The story of two neighbors and their friendship. There are scenes of one-on-one romantic sex (MF), group sex and bisexual sex (MM and FF). If this is not your thing, move on. Otherwise, enjoy, comment and vote.
I woke the next morning and quietly slipped out of bed. I ventured into the kitchen and made a big pot of coffee. When I went into the bedroom, Sam was rousing. "How do you like your coffee?"
"Milk and two sugars, babe." I prepared her coffee and returned to the bedroom where we quietly sipped. "What a mess we made. I have to strip this bed." She got up, placed the linens in the washing machine and turned it on. "Take a shower with me?"
We showered and tenderly scrubbed each other. No sex, no talking but it was sensual nonetheless. After, we dried off and sat in the living room to drink more coffee. "So, let's talk more about yesterday, it's been on my mind. I want to work this out," she said. "I liked the sex but only for a while. Then I got a funny vibe and signaled you that it was time to leave. What was going on there? And tell me about what triggered you about East Hampton?"
"I don't know exactly but I do know that they were liars. Look, I lived in East Hampton for over forty years so I knew the place and most of the residents. It's a small town and a very wealthy one with artists, celebrities, writers and every now and then a scam artist. First off, they described where they lived in East Hampton and it was all wrong. I threw in some streets and locations that were nowhere near where they said the lived. The street that they claimed to live on was in one of the glitzier sections of town with houses going from five million to fifty million. It was in the western part of East Hampton, too. So I knew that they were making it up when they changed the subject quickly. They were poseurs or scammers."
"I knew that you had caught him in a lie. And I agree about the so-called inexperience. I call bullshit. But, to tell you the truth, I really didn't care at that moment. I was about to go down on her and I really wanted the experience. I wanted to taste her and I did. I'm proud of myself. Let me ask you something, do you prefer a penis or a vagina?"
"Oh, definitely a vagina but occasionally, I do like to suck and swallow cock. It feels good in my mouth. Don't you agree about how that feels?"
"Oh, I do. I was never really into oral though. Harold was smaller than you and wasn't a very creative lover. Neither was I, for that matter. Do you know how long I wanted to discover why men like to go down on women? And now, I learned why - because it is delicious and empowering and exciting and..."
"Good for you. And I saw how you really got into it and enjoyed it. I could tell how much you really liked it. I should tell you that every vagina is different; the way they feel, the way they smell and the texture. Vicky had a beautiful pussy for you to have your first taste. But we don't have to see them again. You know, after we left, I had the weirdest vibe about them. I wondered what they were really doing down here. I thought that maybe they were embedded Russian spies observing the Navy Base."
"You're letting your imagination run away. Do not give them any more thought. Now, let's talk about us and this incredible sex we are having. Did you sleep well?"
"Indeed, I did. I haven't slept like that in a very long time. I don't think I got up in the middle of the night to pee. I was out."
"So was I...and very contented. Why do you think our sex is so good?"
"For one thing, we are having sex with our minds and not thinking of how our bodies react, they just do. It is a natural response. I call this 'gourmet sex.' That is when you transcend the mundane and experience a totality, completely submitting to creating something shared. Last night, in your bed, was exceptional, gourmet sex."
"Gourmet sex. I like that. It was completely different from anything I have ever felt and it was awesome. I didn't even know that my vagina could do tricks like that. When I was married to Harold, we never had sex like that. Never, not even in the beginning of our relationship. To be honest, I never knew any better. Sex was sex. Close your eyes and do it. Last night, you moved me up a few pegs. Thank you."
"When I was married, I didn't know any better either. My wife laid on her back, spread her legs and I simply waited on her and served her pleasure. Fortunately, for me, after my divorce I met people who taught me how good sex can be. Last night was an illustration. Sexually, we click."
"Oh, that is the truth, Ray. I'll follow you anywhere if I can feel that again."
"Now don't place any pressure on yourself. This is not a performance test. If you just let yourself flow, and you stay in the moment, you can have a satisfying encounter. And, probably the most important aspect is that there is trust between us, and that is true, there does seems to be trust."
"Oh, yeah. I felt that, too. I trust you. We're on the same side."
I left a little while later and started my workday at my computer. She drove off to tend to errands. I thought about her a lot. It occurred to me that she was no longer annoying. Apparently, it was nerves that made her jabber so much and now that her nerves had eased, she settled down. Over the next few weeks, we had stumbled into an easy relationship despite the coronavirus lockdown. We had great sex a few times a week, we had trust and honesty and we reveled in our comfort. We explored Sam's curiosity over many aspects of sex. For example, one night, Sam asked me to explore her ass. Well lubricated, she sat down on my cock and managed to get it in a few inches. However, it hurt her and we stopped. I figured that there would be more opportunities to come.
Sam spent her days on the computer. She was searching for a waterfront condominium to move into and was busy checking different ones out online. Some looked promising but walk-throughs were put on hold during the pandemic. It seemed that life outside had not progressed. Although the government was trying to restart the economy by reopening businesses, the doctors were telling us to stay quarantined, that the virus had yet to peak. Whom are you supposed to believe? We stayed indoors and went masked on the few times we went outside. Everyone was wearing masks and many wore gloves, too. Several of my neighbors went through the hospital experience and survived. A few did not. I lost some people with whom I had been close. This was a motherfucker. We stayed inside mostly.
On one boring day, I was feeling ambitious so I called Sam and asked her if she would like a creole-cajun meal that night. Most of the day, I spent preparing. The red beans had set in water overnight. The shrimp marinated for a few hours. The house smelled like a bayou town. I'd been listening to Louisiana music all day and so the mood was set. I even went out and picked up some Abita Beer.
When she walked in, I held two bottles of beer and a few strands of beads. "Hey lady, show me your tits!" I yelled. In the best Bourbon Street tradition, she lifted up her shirt and shook her tits. I threw the beads and handed her a beer. Our little party had started. "Laissez les bon temps roulez!". A Buckwheat Zydeco record played and it made for an instant party.
"What are we celebrating? Mardi Gras?"
"No. Today is usually the second weekend of Jazzfest but this year, it was cancelled. So, in the spirit of New Orleans and Jazzfest, let's party."
"I've never been to New Orleans. Is it a cool place?"
"During Jazzfest is the best. The weather is perfect, the music is sublime, the food is unbelievable and the sex is explosive. Is it a cool place. Very." We clinked bottles. "Bottoms up. Are you ready for some fine dining, Madame?"
"Mais oui, monsieur."
I served up some blackened shrimp in a raspberry aioli with it's tail stuck in a piece of cornbread, not a lot, just enough to turn on the taste buds. "Wow, this is delicious."
"In New Orleans, they call this a lagniappe, a little taste, a little extra to make your mouth water."
Next was red beans and rice with andouille sausage. "You know, this was Louis Armstrong's favorite mean. He used to sign autographs with 'Red Beans and Ricely Yours, Louis Armstrong.' Here's to Louis, Dig in."
It was a major yum. While The Neville Brothers were wailing, we scarfed it up.
"Fabulous, Ray. Where's you learn to cook like this?"
"Ah, it's a long story but it involved close friends in New Orleans. I love to cook creole and cajun. The sweet and the hot, the textures, this food is alive. And now for dessert, some store bought bread pudding, slightly modified by the chef, and a cup of coffee."
We were both satisfied with the meal and I especially liked how we cleaned the plates. However, as meals like this go, I was ready to play some New Orleans jazz, that is, I was ready to toot ass trumpet. "Now, I think we should go for a walk before I have to fumigate this apartment."
"I hear that!"
As we walked and farted, she told me about her dating profile. "Most of my responses are pictures of penises, lots of penises in every color of the rainbow. As if that is the guy's sole attraction. Well, I have to say that it doesn't work for me. They're fun to look at but they don't attract me to the person connected to it. Seen one picture, seen them all. Very few seem sincere. I've also received a few from women. Two stood out to me but for different reasons."
"How so?"
"Well, mainly I felt an honesty in the note. If that comes through, I look twice. One was from a married black woman in a loveless marriage. She had a spectacular body; she was like a sexual playground. I am telling you, she was hot, she turned me on big time. She wrote me this long letter telling me her story and pleading with me to have sex with her. Her letter touched me but I turned her down. Don't worry, I was very gentle. I turned her down for at least a number of reasons. First, I said I wouldn't meet with a married person unless the mate was good with it and I got their okay. I don't need the grief. Another reason was that I got this vibe that I couldn't place. The fact that she was pleading with me turned me off. And why is such a beautiful woman pleading with me? She seemed too needy, if you know what I mean. I mean me, of all the naked women on the site. The whole dynamic was potentially too...too..."
"...lethal, if you ask me. I think it's good that your defense mechanism alerted you. It sounds like it may be a scam of some kind. When someone begs...it's not a good sign. It's good that you passed."
"Her letter seemed so honest, I felt bad. But the more I thought about it, it smelled. And you should excuse yourself when you rip a smelly one. Or warn me so I can run upwind."
"Sorry," I said ruefully. "Tell me about the other one."
"Now, she turned me on, too, but for a whole different set of reasons. She's young, nineteen. She's in college full time, pre-med. She's gorgeous - looks a little like me, ha ha - no, not really. She asked first that we meet and talk face-to-face first. She told me that she's never been with a woman but she has thought and dreamed about it since she was twelve. She said that while she likes and dates men and has had sex several times, she doesn't cum. She fakes it. She only cums when she masturbates. That saddened me and I felt for her. I wrote her asking where she would like to meet. I haven't heard back yet. What do you think?"
