"Well, she wouldn't be all wet and fragrant if I hadn't!"
"I'd do it, Alan. The thought, all that hot wetness."
"And I do the same to Jenny another night." He raised his eyebrows.
"Of course, Alan. Be my guest - and Jenny is as fair down there as she is on her head. Tidied but furry. Nice and springy."
"Have you a photo?"
But neither had photos to hand, even holiday photos to exchange. Neither was going to see the other's wife's pubic hair - and more - any time soon. Nor were they going to be burying their faces in the other man's wife's quim. They were happy to reveal a lot about their wives but, alas, that included they were not deep sleepers. The girls did not go 'out for the count' and staying that way until the next morning, allowing all sorts of male fantasies to be performed in and upon their bodies whilst far away in the 'Land of Nod.'
The men could fantasise about that as they stood either side of the fence and neither could see if the other was wanking without peering over and down. They did not do that, did not 'peer,' because it seemed impolite to look - but, both were stroking. They veered off from talking about Megan and Jenny to young Chrissie a few doors down. They could hear her in her garden, though not see her. It prompted Dave to make some comment about how enjoyable it would be to visit her if she slept absurdly soundly - and her parents and siblings were 'away.' It was rather pleasant to imagine creeping in upon her, the two men together. So much the male fantasy of having a sleeping girl at their disposal to play with her unresisting body. To undress her - they imagined cotton pyjamas; to examine her, they imagined their pleasure at finding her rather wet, and realising she had been playing with her hairbrush handle before sleep; they imagined their delight at finding her hole not tight and virginal but pleasingly eased, no doubt by the hairbrush. They certainly imagined smelling her young girl scent all over the handle.
"I might not want to suck your cock, Alan, but I'd be happy to suck that plastic handle!"
But there would be her sex all open for the feasting - and they certainly discussed that. No real need to suck a plastic handle, any more than a need to suck each other's wet cock if they could go directly to the wet pudenda.
They talked of sucking her young breasts, resting their penises upon her lips, even better if they were a little open - or more.
"Lip gloss!" said Alan.
"You do the top lip and I'll apply to the lower!" The men leant upon the fence despite its precarious nature, one hand each resting on the wood. Their other hands were not to be seen.
Cunnilingus featured strongly for the next couple of minutes. A rather detailed description of what they would like to do.
And would they fuck her? Where the hairbrush handle had gone, they both agreed, they should follow. Had they remembered the condoms?
"Would we want to cum inside or upon her body?"
"Best to keep our stuff away from her sex - though the thought of leaving some matted in her pubic hair..."
"Nice. Spurting all over her mound and little slit."
"Then tidy her up - mostly - and creep away. Shall we take a souvenir?"
"The hairbrush?"
"No, her knickers discarded on the chair."
"Still warm and scented. Need a pair each really... talking of which, I'm feeling like a wank and I just wonder if..."
Alan looked at Dave and Dave looked at Alan. Talk of Chrissie's imagined panties took them rather easily to another idea...
"You'd like to borrow a pair of Jenny's panties?"
The two men stood looking at each other across the fence. They knew each other's mind. Great minds think alike - perhaps. Doing up their belts as they each walked back to their respective houses both could see the other's penis hard and upright sticking out of their flies. They were no different when each returned clutching a scrap of material - from their laundry baskets.
A strange ritual exchange across the fence. "I'll bring them back," said in unison. Both men then disappearing up to their respective bedrooms, shedding clothes and lying upon the sheets where barely an hour ago they had been maritally fucking; their thoughts now not upon their own but another's wife; stark naked on their own double bed, not a stitch on but clutched in their fists a scrap of clothing which was not their own wife's property. Lying there with their erections so hard; each then relaxed his fingers and looked at the underwear. Jenny's a pair of cotton briefs in a pretty chalk blue with little white flowers and a thin white border; Megan's silk, French knickers, so light and floaty, in a dark red. The two men lay staring at them and then each simply draped them over their faces. So strange their actions exactly the same and almost to the second. Each breathed deeply through his nose taking in the scent, the better for the material having been warmed by their hands; the material rather cutting out the light; each of them lying there, face under the soft stuff as their hands reached downwards and they imagined.
Lovely to lie, rather quietly, with the scent of their neighbours so in their nostrils; so arousing - quite remarkable how powerful is the sense of smell; the men imagining Jenny and Megan hovering above them, thighs spread and knees either side of their heads; soft, wet, so scented flesh just hanging above them, open, perhaps quivering and ready to be lowered. Maybe the girls would drip, perfumed liquid dropping upon their faces, into their mouths. As one the two men opened their mouths and extended their tongues touching the material, stroking cotton and silk with their tongues.
It was Dave more than Alan, who imagined knickers being stuffed into his mouth. His thought of Megan, Alan's wife, stuffing her silk knickers into his mouth, gagging him, preventing protest; perhaps he had been tied to the bed - by Jenny or even Alan - so Megan could have her way with him, force him to have sexual intercourse. His lips scrabbled as he tried to pull the silk into his mouth, not just taking in Megan's scent but her taste as well, imagining her lowering her so wet quim onto his helpless but so hard cock, taking him as he struggled to resist.
Alan, in his own room, had put Jenny's cotton knickers over his head, was right inside them stretching them, very much imagining himself between her thighs, her scent would be even stronger. How he wanted to do that, bury his face in Dave's wife's wetness; perhaps even the wetter from Dave's semen dripping from her, the product of their sexual activity. His hand was moving his foreskin enthusiastically imagining. Suddenly he stopped. Almost he had come.
Both men had almost come, but now, as if telepathically connected, they both removed the knickers from their mouths and faces and slowly lowered them downwards towards their penises. Soft cotton to sheath Alan's curving cock; exotic silk to be wrapped around Dave's very firm ruler straight penis. Feminine undergarments as a masturbatory aid - perhaps the most popular masturbatory aid across the world, after the hand!
Softly wrapped, the twin penises now untouched by hand, were exercised once more; swollen penile knobs appearing and disappearing within folds of female frippery. Should they - they were both thinking it - should they come into the borrowed underwear? It just seemed so the right thing - at the time. Not merely to use as a stroking aid but to deposit in and maybe through the material. A connection with the woman - and, yes, imagining actually inseminating the neighbour's wife. Dave moved the red silk, pressing it close around his knob and shaft so it was moulded by the material, his so familiar cock's shape, even the swollen veins and certainly the flare of his corona, perfectly shaped in silk as if within a tight condom - a condom without a teat. Already seeping through the thin material, he could see his pre-cum forming a wet patch, darkening the silk, at his knob end. It would leave a white mark when it dried. He stroked the silk with his fingers, running them along the sensitive shape of his erection, stroking his knob through the silk. He was very close. Didn't his cock look so fine in Megan's silk - how much better if it was tucked up one silken leg whilst she was wearing them and into her hot wetness. It was going to happen - he tugged the silk harder against himself, the red material tight over his knob.
Next door, feet away through brick and plaster Alan was holding his curving cock up into the air; it was clutched tightly within Jenny's cotton panties and his fist, the opening of his pink and full glans just appearing out of the blue fabric, sort of winking at him before disappearing again. He too was close to coming, his thighs spread wide and one part of the pair of panties even fluttering against his balls as he wanked with enthusiasm. He was thinking - imagining - it was Jenny doing the wanking; insisting she wasn't really having sexual relations with him if she didn't touch his cock but used her warm panties against it. Alan had imagined her reaching up into her skirt and bringing them out for that very purpose. Telling him to lie down and she would 'help him' get rid of his 'nasty swelling.' The feel of warm cotton, warm from her body, perhaps even damp - from arousal, yes, that was best - and perhaps from Dave doing his marital duty or simply with her 'wee.' All exciting, all in his mind. He closed his eyes tight shut and imagined himself being taken over the edge by Jenny - as it happened for real.
