We See You...

We See You...

Chapter 1

My wife Colleen and I moved from Oregon to Texas two years ago. Oddly, it was for her work, not mine, unlike our first two moves. She worked for a manufacturing plant took over as Training & Safety Supervisor for the Southwest. She was now based in Houston, overseeing a small building of four training rooms, behind the main office complex, itself a low two-story building where Accounting and HR were housed for the region.

Our children Michael and Madison left for college a few years ago; Maddie moved to the Midwest with her new husband after graduation, while Michael worked in Virginia, dating a young woman we had not yet met. All four were invited for Thanksgiving in a couple of months.

We arrived in Texas in February of 2020, a little over a month after we heard the first whispers of a new strain of flu making its way around the world. Within six weeks, we were experiencing a completely different world, an 'emerging paradigm' she called it. She still trained everyone from Brain Central, which was the unofficial title of the training rooms, but now virtually.

I had accepted a promotion around the end of 2019, working from home out of our home in the Portland suburbs, and it was a no-brainer to move nearer to the corporate hub just north of Galveston, in Pasadena, Texas. Since I was now head of Logistics, I could direct business shipments, and seldom had to be in an office, especially once the pandemic started. We set up our upstairs game room, a large open space bounded by a wooden banister, as my workspace, where I could look down into the living room easily from my perch.

Many couples we knew grew weary of having only each other to see, and their happiness often suffered, along with their sex lives, but Colleen felt the opposite. Of course, so did I as a consequence. With the house all to ourselves, my wife was very lustful now, and we often dispensed with any covering but each other. There wasn't a single room we were now forbidden to use for lovemaking.

She is a ravishing redhead in her mid-forties, long curls flowing past her shoulders, slightly frizzy, especially with the humid Gulf air. At work she keeps it bound up, a fluffy auburn bun atop her head. Even in middle age, she is as young and sexy in bed as ever. She has a spray of freckles on her pale skin, across her nose and down her neck reaching to the swell of her ample, heavy breasts. Her pubic bush is a darker reddish-brown, as curly and wild as the hair on top of her head, and her blue eyes still give me a thrill when they meet mine. MILF isn't a term I use, but Colleen definitely qualifies, head to toe.

Just over one year in our new state, the pandemic finally winding almost all the way down, Colleen found new ways to surprise me.

My personal computer announced an incoming call; Colleen and I have a very firm rule about not using our company laptops, either of them, for anything personal. She didn't want anyone to be able to eavesdrop, if the conversation became more intimate, as it often did, verbal foreplay that led inevitably to joyful sex play as soon as we were again together. As for me, I suffer from a little bit of institutional paranoia, not wanting anyone to hear a damn thing, ever, by accident or design.

I answered, and saw Colleen, much closer than usual to the camera. Our Friday evening was only a couple of nights away, our weekly Naked Night (Saturday and Sunday too!), had me eager for her velvety skin beneath my fingertips and tongue, her breasts against me, the comforting moist warmth of her pussy engulfing my rigid cock, or humping my face, and our combined moans when we came for the first or third time of the evening.

The right bottom corner of the video window gave the time as just after 2:30. "Sweetheart! Didn't expect a call from you. Is everything alright?" She only called very rarely during the daytime, was usually kept quite busy with various classes or testing. She was wearing her mask, a pink one with a luscious pair of lips printed on it, so she wasn't alone. I made a mental note to keep our conversation clean, or at worst PG.

"Everything's great, babe!" Her shoulder-length brown hair, dark and sensuous, was the ideal frame for her face, and her deep blue eyes crinkled in amusement. It was all I could see of her features, and I wanted more, as always. Her skin was lightly tanned but still pale. She now tanned in the nude as often as not, on the weekends and on vacation.

"So, what occasions this unexpected electronic visitation from my paramour?"

Her eyes crinkled again, and the pink mask twitched. I knew she was grinning broadly beneath it, and my mouth did the same. "Actually, I have some free time... My last session today was on the East Coast, nothing on the West, and they knock off around 4:30, so it's all asses and elbows trying to get off work."

"Mmmm... Time zones rock..."

"They do..." She scratched behind her left ear, a quick swipe of her nails that I knew wasn't due to an itch, but a feeling of nervousness, or excitement.

"You alone?"

"I am, Derek..."

"So, why the mask?"

Her smile broadened, stretching the pink fabric more. "Just making sure..." Colleen leaned back from the camera, pulling back so I could see her, then she stood and my breath caught in my throat.

"You're...naked!" I felt a little dull for stating the obvious, because she was, save for her tennis shoes. The large brown nipples surmounting her breasts were erect now, the aureoles curdled with her horniness. Her dark brown bush was exposed, with the rest of her, and my cock stirred at the welcome and very unexpected sight. She smiled over the top of her mask, turning to show off her pert buttocks and firm thighs. She peeled the mask off and tossed it next to her laptop.

"Everyone's gone from the building, and I locked everything up, including my office. We won't be interrupted at all..." Her smoky whisper seemed unnecessary, except it made my dick quiver again. She turned to me and dropped into her chair facing the camera.

"You could have come home early, babe..." It sounded like a criticism, but it wasn't. I wanted her in my arms right now, and her eyes told me she knew it.

Before speaking, Colleen sat back in her chair, an executive model in rich, dark leather, with a high back and a pair of armrests on either side. She lifted her knees and settled her calves on either side of the chair, knees bent, legs draped over the armrests, her gash spread wide, displaying the pink labia and pinker hole at their center. Even without high resolution, I could see my wife was wet, ready.

"I wanted to do this for you

now

, hon. Besides, I have a meeting in a couple of hours, so coming home to ride you for a few minutes then heading back out would be

such

a tease! For both of us..."

I watched transfixed as she placed her left middle and index fingers on either side of her clitoris, still looking into the camera, and brought her right index finger to rest on the delicate nub. She started rubbing on either side of her clit, the other finger tracing a slow, deliberate oval around it. She moaned once, quietly, her eyes steady on the camera. She continued for a while, not that I could tell any time was passing.

Closing her eyes, Colleen leaned her head back onto the leather headrest, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, another low gasp leaving her throat. Moving both hands to the sides of her pussy, she spread her labia, sneaking one index finger inside, tracing the outlines of the hole for me.

"You look gorgeous, Colleen..."

"Thank you... You know what got me so hot, baby?"

"No..." My eyes were riveted to the screen, keenly watching every motion of her fingers, each pass of her index finger teasing the opening.

"I was thinking of you..."--another moan escaped, this one louder--"...licking my pussy, sticking your tongue up inside me... If you were here I'd fuck you so hard." Her eyes fluttered open. "Let's do it tonight. After my meeting I'll come home and we can do it right in the hall by the front door..." Pausing to let another moan pass her lips, she slipped her index and middle fingers inside to the second knuckle.

"I can't wait, baby..." My cock was stiff, tight against the crotch of my blue jeans, my usual pants for working at home. "I want you right now too..."

When I reached for my belt, she waggled a finger at me, the tips shiny with her moisture. "No, baby. I want you to think of me, all naked and wet and fingering myself, without getting yourself off. A delicious torture for my hubby, and I'm sure you'll...

uhhh

...cum the instant you penetrate me, put that gorgeous, big cock inside me tonight..." She accented her statement by raising her legs further, removing the fingers rubbing either side of her clit and inserting them. I heard the faint squelching sound as her fingers plunged inside, her labia and hole sopping wet, and my breath caught in my throat.

Colleen was panting in time to her masturbation. "Derek, baby, tell me you'll be

good

"--that word was stretched out, pronounced as anything but virtuous--"until I come home to you...." Her mouth opened, stretched wide as she threw her head back, a sensuous moan blasting out into the air. She looked at the camera again. "Promise me, baby..."

"I promise," I murmured, consumed by the show she was presenting.

"Fuck... Good boy, baby... Good boy... No touching until I'm there...to...touch..." She didn't finish the sentence, her orgasm robbing her of the last word, replacing a feminine, sexy scream of ecstasy with it, but I understood perfectly.

At last, the remains of her orgasm fading, she finally finished playing, then leaned forward and blew me a kiss, full breasts dangling in front of her, almost grazing the keyboard with the motion. "I love you Derek. I'll touch you the

minute

I get home baby. 'Round six-thirty or so."

I told her I loved her too, and she grabbed her sweater and bra just before winking and hanging up. I spent the next four hours working diligently and trying not to dwell on my wife's mid-day show.

A little before seven, I heard the garage door open and close, then a couple of minutes later the door into our kitchen where it connected. "Baby, I'm ho-ooome...," she half-whispered in her sexy contralto. I stepped out of the bathroom, and stopped short when I saw her completely naked except for her laptop bag, which she deposited swiftly and gingerly by the door. I swept her into my arms and kissed her passionately.

"You didn't drive home like that, did you?" I didn't quite believe she would have, but calling me from work for daytime exhibition and pussy play had been very unexpected too.

Colleen chuckled. "What if I did?" At my look of surprised desire, she kissed me again. "Of course not! My clothes are in the front seat." She got out of my arms and took my hand, leading me to the front of the house, behind the front door, and lay back on the cool white tile. "Eat my pussy," she breathed, and I was down on the tile, full length on the floor, still clothed.

If her masturbatory call had taken any kind of erotic pressure off her, it wasn't apparent. Her pussy was wet, slick, and I went down on her without any hesitation, licking her swiftly to another orgasm, my jeans tight around my awakened cock. Colleen's back arched, and she moaned more loudly than on the call. "Yes, Derek, yes! Fuck my pussy with your tongue... Do it, baby!"

I buried my tongue inside her as far as I could, felt the sides of her labia pressing in on it, hot and sweet, and I moaned myself. My upper lip was against her clit, and I rocked my head, rubbing my mouth against it.

Colleen moaned again and brought her torso up from the tile floor, holding it there, arms out and extended behind her. "I'm cumming baby... Keep licking..." She gripped the sides of my head, and let a low groan escape. "That's it, baby, that's it..." I was rewarded with a splash of her pussy juices on my face and tongue, her back arching with each squirt.

I kept going and the tremor of her belly on my forehead was a clear revelation when she came again. She released my head, and I looked into her eyes from my vantage point. "In me," she panted. "Put it in me, honey..." It was almost a prayer.

I opened my belt and pulled my jeans down just past my ass, unable to wait any longer, then thrust my quivering hard-on forward into her waiting hole. Colleen leaned back again, and she felt wonderful, hot and wet and slick, her pussy fragrant with longing and desire. We said nothing while we fucked, and she put her legs over my back, pinning me to her.

My climax rose quickly, had been waiting to emerge four whole hours before my beautiful girl arrived home. My voice was little more than a series of panting groans. "I'm going to cum, baby."

She whispered to me with a smile, "Then cum, Derek. Fill me up..."

I started thrusting faster, lifted myself on my arms for maximum penetration. "Oh, fuck, baby, I wanted you so much earlier. I didn't..."

"I'm so glad you saved yourself for me!" She smiled again, draping her arms around my neck. "Your turn to cum, sweetheart...," she purred seductively.

Humping her hard and fast, nothing was going to stop me, or even slow me down. When the first pulse of my hard-on inside her heralded the rush of thick semen, I yelled out my orgasm, and she squealed in delight, giving way to her own loud and satisfied moans.

Then we heard it. We'd actually heard it the instant before I came, we came. A quiet, polite

knock

on the front door. It wasn't followed by another, and I glanced behind me. There are two tall, narrow windows on either side of the front door, with sheer curtains for privacy. I saw the top of a head, with blonde curls withdrawing quickly. Whoever it was hadn't seen me see them.

Then I heard their voices. The first was a woman's, soft and quivering with emotion. "No! We'll come back later..."

"You sure, sweetheart?" The second voice was deeper, masculine, less certain than the other.

"Positive!" The voices receded, and I thought I heard her say, "They're busy. Later!"

I turned back to Colleen, whose mouth was open in happy shock. She covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, my God! Just as we came!" She looked obscenely pleased and aroused, and I pulled out very slowly, cum dripping out of her onto the tile.

"Yeah..." It was all I could manage for the moment.

"You think they saw anything? Who were they? What did they want?" The questions tumbled out of her, but I noticed with satisfaction she didn't move to cover herself up, or look embarrassed at being heard or discovered in the throes of passion.

"I...don't know." I levered myself onto my knees and stood, offering her a hand to get up. She took it and grinned, pulling herself to her feet. She kissed me long and hard, and it occurred to me my wife might have liked being seen with me inside her, naked for all to see.

After making out for a little longer, she helped me the rest of the way out of my clothes, and we carefully avoided the slippery spot in the foyer on our way to the master bedroom and a hot shower for two.

****************

That Saturday, mid-afternoon, Colleen and I were reading in the living room when we heard the knock again, exactly the same knock as a few nights before. She clearly recognized it also, favoring me with a little dip of her shoulders and a sheepish grin. We were both dressed this time, and I got up to answer the door.

Pulling it open, I saw our callers for the first time. My first impression was that he was military or a cop, and she was a stay-at-home wife. She was dressed demurely in a gingham dress of blue and white, soft-looking lace at her short sleeves, collar and hem, and a basket nestled in her arms. Her hair was blonde, almost platinum, hanging down to her shoulders, wavy and stirring in the wind. Her glasses were in a blue frame almost matching her eyes, and her face was delicate, almost elfin as she smiled at me.

He was taller by about six inches, putting his eyes even with mine. His brown hair was coarse and combed, cut short, "high and tight" I remembered they called it. His eyes were clear and grey, and he looked like a serious Jim Carrey. His polo shirt was aqua, and the muscles beneath rippled when he extended his hand to shake mine. "I'm Roger, this is my wife Paula, your new neighbors next door. May we come in?"

Colleen stood up barefoot, and joined me at the door. "Certainly, Roger! Paula."

They stepped in and I closed the door while Colleen lead them to our living room. After we had all sat down, my wife and I on one couch and our guests on the one opposite us, the glass and chrome coffee table between us, I leaned back, trying to relax. "What brings you over?"

"We moved in a few days ago, wanted to introduce ourselves. We move fairly often, so we like to get acquainted quickly with our neighbors."

Colleen has a wicked streak a mile long and almost that deep, and she gave them a sassy laugh. "You came by Wednesday night, didn't you!"

Roger said nothing, but reddened visibly. His bride did the same, turning an appealing shade of pink that I noticed ran down her neck to, and likely beyond, the collar of her dress. Colleen laughed again. "Nothing to be embarrassed about! Married couples do that, sometimes a lot." She covered her grin, trying not to enjoy their discomfiture too much.

Paula spoke up first. "Yeah, we figured. I...uh...I looked in the window for just a second. We thought it would be better to come back..."

"When we weren't naked and screwing on the floor?" My wife was clearly enjoying this.

Paula nodded. "Yes," she said carefully, drawing out the syllable as if ready to say more, but didn't.

"So, what's in the basket?" I was eager to change the subject, make our guests feel a little bit less uncomfortable.

"Oh, this. We move around a lot. Roger's in the Air Force, and this is our latest billet. We don't like to be strangers, so we bring a basket of my baking to the closest neighbors. Since you're right next door, you were on the list." She set the basket on the table precisely, then sat back, her hands folded primly in her lap, a placid but slightly, it seemed to me, anxious smile on her lips.

"Well, thank you both, Roger and Paula." Colleen echoed the sentiments, and we chatted for a couple of hours. We shared one of their gifts, a very good loaf of bread that tasted of cinnamon, apple and pecans, with them, and invited them to stay for dinner. They accepted graciously, and we served up the leftover lasagna from the night before, with a bottle of red wine.

Our guests loosened up considerably, and Roger even cracked a smile a couple of times. Paula was less staid (it's tempting to say

less sober

), and it was clear they enjoyed breaking bread with another couple, literally and figuratively. By the time the evening ended, the four of us made tentative plans for another dinner, at their house, and maybe a movie or show in the next couple of weeks.

As they left, Colleen gave them both a warm hug, which Roger had the good manners not to bristle at, and Paula leaned in too. Roger and I shook hands, and Paula gave me a quick hug, flushed with alcohol, or so I thought at the time.

The following Friday, the four of us went out for sushi. I ordered a bottle of plum wine for the table, and it was delicious. Paula's cheeks were rosy part way through her second glass, and her eyes jumped animatedly as she joined the conversation, and lit with undiluted attention anytime someone else spoke. Roger drank very little, nursing one glass of the wine throughout dinner, nodding with masculine approval when I did the same.

Colleen and Paula got very giggly, and behaved like old friends, chattering away about their days and interests, ignoring their men for now. Roger leaned over the table towards me. "She gets this way sometimes. Loves a good wine, but hasn't the constitution for it, really." It wasn't critical, just an observation, and his eyes took her in with obvious love.