(Author's note: Even as I am writing this story, I still don't have a clue what category it should fit into. Whichever category I choose, several others would be appropriate as well, so forgive me if I don't make the perfect choice.)
Norma was nineteen in her final year of high school when the sex witch came to the neighborhood and moved in next door. Of course, Norma had no idea at the time that Carly Shelaugh was a sex witch. She appeared to be a tall, lushly built redheaded divorcee, and that was all that Carly, the sex witch, had claimed to be. Norma had never met anyone that she wanted to be except herself, but from the moment she met the sex witch, she wanted to be Carly Shelaugh. But then, Carly affected everyone like that.
Norma lived with her parents and her younger sister Lisa who was eighteen and didn't consider herself significantly younger. Her father, Bill, was thirty-eight and worked at a bank. Her mother, Jane, was thirty-four and was self-employed as an accountant.
Carly moved in on a Saturday when everyone was home, or rather the movers moved her things in. All day, men in overalls hurried to and fro carrying boxes and furniture, but the family saw no sign of the occupant, and they were naturally very curious. Finally, the movers left around four, and around five, a sleek red sports car pulled into the drive. Lisa glanced out the living room window and called out to the others, "She's here! It's a woman moving in next door!"
Norma hurried over to the window for a peek. Bill looked up with amusement from the television to regard his daughter's open interest. Norma, he noticed a trifle uneasily, was for all practical purposes a woman, and a damn fine specimen at that!
Norma stood five nine, fairly tall for a girl; she was a natural blonde, like himself, although his hair had darkened to light brown. Her body was supple and curved, with long, well-muscled legs and medium sized breasts. Her face was angelic and open with bright blue eyes and deep smile-lines and dimples – the smile and dimples inherited from her mother.
Lisa looked as old as her sister, and her body was even riper. She had long brown hair, sparkling blue-green eyes and friendly freckles sprinkled across her nose. Lisa had incredibly cute dimples and classic features. She was as tall as Norma, but there the similarity ended.
Lisa had large breasts, wide hips, thick calves and thighs, giving her an over all chunky, plump impression what with the way she dressed – boyishly, usually wearing jeans and an overlarge man's shirt. It carefully hid the narrow points of her body; the ankles, knees, and waist.
Bill sighed to himself; both of his daughters were nubile beauty queens, perfect potentials for disaster. But at least Lisa hid her assets, whereas Norma tended to flaunt them; it's a wonder they weren't both already pregnant! He sighed again, of course, when Lisa wore her bikini at the beach, her disguise didn't hold up so well...
Hell, it seemed like just yesterday that he was changing their diapers and burping them, and now it was hard to look at them sometimes without feeling a stirring in his groin. He turned away from them and gazed at his wife to shock him from the forbidden line of thought.
Jane was wearing her reading glasses and was bent over some office work spread out on the kitchen table. He was really lucky to have such a beautiful wife. Neither daughter had inherited their mother's dark, nearly black hair or her bottle-green eyes, although Lisa's eyes came close in certain lights.
But the girls had come by their height honestly, for both of their parents were tall. Jane had dusky skin that tanned easily as did Lisa, whereas Norma had her father's fair skin. He wondered at the way his wife had kept her figure, even after two children, but he suspected that her career had been as much or more responsible than their sex life.
He was still attracted to her, but over the years, she had become indifferent to sex, or, he thought unhappily, indifferent to him. She always accommodated him with a nearly maddening compliance, but she rarely initiated sex or pressed for more once he'd come.
"Oh look, she saw us and waved," exclaimed Lisa, waving back cheerily, as did Norma.
Jane looked up from her work and frowned over her glasses, "Get away from the window, girls. Do you want the new neighbor to think she's moving next door to window peepers?"
"Oh mom!" said Norma as the girls moved away, "Window peepers are always guys, and they look in windows, not out of them!" Jane ignored the accurate technicalities of her daughter's objections and returned to her work.
Lisa looked thoughtful, "I think that was the most beautiful woman that I've ever seen! Can we go next door to meet her, dad?"
Bill cocked an eyebrow, "Lying child! No one is as beautiful as your mother! But, I guess it's okay with me, just don't get in the lady's hair."
"Is he calling us ticks or lice or what?" asked Norma with mock asperity as the girls headed for the door.
After the door shut behind them, Jane looked up, "That was sweet of you, Bill, to say I'm still beautiful," she permitted herself a small smile, "but maybe I should be jealous if the most beautiful woman in the world has just moved next door!" From her grin, it was obvious where Lisa and Norma got their dimples.
He laughed and crossed the room to rub her shoulders, "All you have to do is keep me happy, and then you won't have to worry. Uhm, as a matter of fact, why don't we go upstairs right now?"
Jane set down her glasses and rubbed her eyes, "Very well, Bill, but the girls may not be gone very long."
When they reached the bedroom, she put her arms around his neck, "How do you want me?" She asked in a friendly but cool manner.
He was irritated, but swallowed it and said, "Why don't you choose this time? Surprise me!"
She gave a little smile and said, "All right." She reached under her dress and pushed down her panties until they dropped loosely around her ankles. Then sat down on the edge of the bed to remove her shoes and slip the panties over her feet. She rose, giving him a sultry, almost insulting look and turned her back on him. She pulled the hem of her dress up to her hips to bare her bottom and leaned over the bed, resting her head on her arms.
Bill caught his breath at the unusually wanton maneuver and the sight of the long, still shapely legs, the round bare bottom, and the dark, black-furred split-pouch that hung at the juncture of her legs. He dropped his pants without preamble and shuffled forward, his penis already erect and eager. He put his hands on the plump, round cheeks of her ass, spreading them wider than necessary as he nosed his penis into the hot slash of her vagina.
Panting, he looked down at the brown pucker of her asshole hungrily as he began to thrust his hips. It was the only liberty that she'd never permitted him, which of course, made him want it even more. He'd asked her if he could take her up the rear; he'd asked on several occasions. But she would just primly remind him that some things were sacred. God! He'd love to fuck her ass!
Jane felt his dick drive in to the hilt, slapping the cheeks of her ass with his hips. She was wet inside, so the shaft slid easily in and out. She was wet because she still enjoyed getting it from Bill even though she hated him for doing it. He'd never know, but she secretly despised him for getting her pregnant at sixteen, making her miss out on most of the joys and experiences of youth, well, the variety anyway. And then he'd persuaded her to have another child at just seventeen!
She loved her daughters, but since she'd turned thirty, she had begun to wish that she'd waited until her mid-twenties for children, at least her earlier twenties, for Christ's sake! So, for the last four years, she had begun blaming Bill for her misspent youth. Somehow, it got worse every time that he fucked her.
Oh, she would enjoy it, remembering bitterly that she'd always enjoyed it, but she didn't place any blame on herself. He had been older and more sophisticated than her, and she had just done whatever he wanted. He had wanted a child; she had given him one. Then another. But she'd been too young to realize what she was doing, she thought furiously, and it was his fault! He should have been old enough to know better!
Her revenge was subtle, but terrible. She gave him whatever he asked for, but asked for nothing, slowly deteriorating his confidence. He'd just about given up trying to make her come, although she still did, but seldom when he was around, preferring to masturbate herself in private. Sometimes he tried so stubbornly that he succeeded, but if she could control her body, she would hide it from him.
On those few occasions that he managed to make her come, and she was unable to hide it, she would pretend to fall immediately deeply asleep to at least deny him the afterglow. Later, if he referred to the experience, she would act as if she couldn't quite remember it.
She smiled as she felt him spread her cheeks with his hands between each energetic thrust. She knew what looking at her asshole did to him, in fact, she swore to herself for the thousandth time: someday I'll have an affair, and I'll let my lover fuck me there; I might even like it, but I'll never, never give it to Bill! Look, but don't touch, honey! Ha!
Actually, it was the reason she had chosen this position. Aside from the mildly sadistic thrill that she got out of his frustration, she knew that the sight of her open ass would make him come faster, and the sooner he came, the sooner she could go back to work.
