I attended a small Division 3 college in the northeast where I studied computer science and played wide receiver on their not very good football team. While I was there, I developed a few gaming apps that were moderately successful, bringing in enough money for beer and my modest living expenses, and one game that I sold to a large gaming distributor for a mid-six figure sum.
When I graduated, I got a job as a software developer with a theme park company, writing programs for planned attractions. Virtual work was new at the time, but they considered themselves to be a cutting-edge company and allowed me to work from my home state in the Midwest. I only occasionally had to visit their various parks and meet face-to-face with my coworkers.
I used the money from my game sale to buy a two-bedroom condo in a town of about ten thousand people. I'm a bit introverted so the hustle and bustle of city life didn't appeal to me, unlike almost all my college classmates. I paid cash for a reasonably priced two-bedroom, one bath top floor condo and moved in a month after graduation. The unit was in a new three story, six-unit building billed as affordable luxury housing for mid-career professionals. The single bath told me it was a little more downscale than that, but it suited my needs, and the price was right.
I was the second resident in the building. The first was Phoebe who lived across the hall from me. She was a fifty-something widow with two grown children who'd long since left home. She told me her children lived nearby, so she didn't need a four-bedroom house, and she had a hard time dealing with her memories of living there with her late husband.
We struck up a friendship despite the more than thirty-year age difference. We'd get together for coffee in the mornings, share meals and have movie nights one or two nights each week. During one particular movie night that included two bottles of wine and a movie that reminded Phoebe of her late husband a little too much, she broke down crying, I consoled her, and we ended up sleeping together.
The next day we talked, and while we regretted how it had happened, neither one of us regretted what we'd done. We also acknowledged that while we enjoyed each other's company and there had always been some physical attraction, we'd never be more than friends with benefits. We sealed the deal with a half hour of frantic sex, and after that our get togethers began to include sex more often than not.
Phoebe was a retired Army officer and a retired teacher. Her husband had also been retired Army and had been working in a federal civil service job when he passed. Because of that, she had four pensions to live on and her military retirement covered her healthcare insurance. Like me, she'd paid cash for her unit, having sold her four-bedroom home in an upscale suburb for about three-quarters of a million when the real estate market was peaking and mortgage rates were still low. She kept herself busy by volunteering in the local schools, being active in a couple of service clubs, and keeping up a workout routine that would have killed me.
Phoebe and her husband had been avid fitness buffs since their Army days, running and lifting weights nearly every day. The first time I saw her naked body in daylight, I'd have sworn she was my age. I tried to keep some of the muscle that I'd carried in my football days, but I wasn't in her league. She could also run circles around me because she trained to run a nearby marathon every year and competed in some smaller triathlons. I started working out with her and immediately achieved noticeable gains.
Sex with Phoebe was interesting. She told me that sex with her husband had been frequent and vigorous, but she admitted that neither of them had been very adventurous. Their sex life had been a variety of oral and vaginal positions, mostly in the bedroom. Kinky for them was doing it after dark on a tropical beach in Aruba.
When Phoebe had started getting over her loss and began taking care of her physical needs on her own, she used porn videos for inspiration. She'd never masturbated much because she hadn't needed to, so she watched women get themselves off. That led to her starting a collection of sex toys.
At first, she bought dildos and vibrators, then anal probes and butt plugs. She told me she'd rubbed her pussy raw the week she discovered nipple clamps. She even had nipple and clit suckers and an e-stim machine. We spent a fun Saturday masturbating in front of each other and she demonstrated most of her toys that day.
It was a natural step for her to start viewing videos with couples, and as she exposed herself to a variety of sex acts that way, she began making a list of things she'd like to try. I learned about her list when I spent some time eating her ass while I was going down on her the second time we had sex. She made a comment afterwards about checking that one off as "want more of it," and when I asked her what she meant she admitted to having a real written down list of fantasies.
She told me anal was at the top of the list, along with piss play, and admitted that throat fucking, spanking and tit slapping were on the list with question marks. When I asked her whether she wanted to give or receive the spankings, she stopped and shivered, never before having considered being the one doing the spanking. She felt the same way about bondage. She liked the idea of domination and submission, but she didn't like the humiliation and coercion aspects of it.
She also likes cum play videos. I know her favorites list includes quite a few composite videos of facials and guys cumming on tits. Those include cum baths with multiple guys. She told me that a couple of guys she dated before her husband liked to cum on her, and she enjoyed it because it made her feel slutty in a good way. Her husband thought it was messy and demeaning and wouldn't do it. He'd occasionally cum on her ass or pussy, but he mostly shot off in her mouth or cunt. She was thrilled when I agreed to let her snowball me, and she was even more excited when I ate a creampie from her pussy the first time.
She admitted she also likes group sex and lesbian videos. She said there were some three-way fantasies on her list and some girl-on-girl things, but she wasn't ready to admit those were anything more than spank-bank material. I laughed when she actually said "spank-bank," never having heard that term used by a female before.
She wouldn't share her whole list with me, but from hints she dropped I know it was a lot longer than that. She also said she has a list of toys, machines and apparatus that excite her, but she wouldn't show me that either. She did ask me once if I thought it would be possible to hang a sex swing in her apartment.
Over a four-month period the rest of the units in our building filled up. Bart, a guy in his early thirties who worked as a design engineer for an electric car company moved into one of the ground floor units. Scott and Maureen lived across the hall from him. They were a married couple, around forty years old, and owned a small travel agency. Guy and Karen, who were an engaged couple in their mid-twenties lived on the second floor. They both worked as middle school teachers. Roger and Natalie, both twice divorced, had the other second floor unit. Roger owned a restaurant and Natalie owned a daycare. So there were three couples and three singles in the building.
We all got along well, and we'd socialize regularly. During the warm months, Bart, Scott and Maureen would host cookouts on their patios. Other times we'd get together in each other's units for meals, game nights and movie nights. We were all fans of the same football team, so we took turns hosting watch parties for every game.
Roger and Natalie had a Persian cat and Bart owned a miniature Husky. We were all happy to look in on them. Bart said Thor went on more walks the first month after he'd gotten to know us than he'd had in his entire life up to then.
When any of us went away, the others would take in their mail, keep an eye on their unit, and care for any pets. We were a close-knit group.
When Roger and Natalie moved into the last unit, the building developer told us we were required by state law to form a condo association to manage the building exterior, common spaces and infrastructure, and to make sure the taxes were paid. We thought it was humorous having to hold elections among our small group and we began to refer to "The Association," in a voice like you'd use if you were talking about the mob. Phoebe was elected president and Roger was the treasurer.
Scott, a fan of 60's music, remembered a group called The Association. They had a hit song called, "Along Comes Mary," but our group adapted it to "Along Comes Phoebe."
Then the pandemic hit.
