Chapter 3 Naughty Neighbours
Author's Note: Thank you all for your comments and I appreciate them. Yes, I am stringing it out. But I am writing a story about a suburban housewife in a long-term happy marriage who explores a side of sexuality she never knew she had.
In the first three chapters, including this one, the loving couple central to this story are attempting to deal with a tension in their lives caused by his frequent business trips. His fiercely loyal wife is subject to boredom and sexual frustration. Bob learns that their neighbour, Jane is trying to seduce his wife into joining a group of housewives who are in a similar situation. He encourages her to let herself be seduced as long as she comes back to him when he at home.
The first three chapters, including this one, describe how they work things out between them at the same time as Jane works at seducing her.
In my view, if the story develops too quickly, it loses plausibility. While this story is pure fiction, I want the characters and plot to be plausible and as realistic as possible. The seduction of a straight wife in a happy marriage would seem to me to take time. Otherwise, the character and the plot lose plausibility.
This story is really about bisexual women. I put it in the lesbian category because the focus of the action in story is on women, especially the main character, Beth, and her neighbour, Jane. Beth's husband, Bob, is the only male character who plays a prominent role.
I can assure my readers that the story will move much faster in the next and subsequent chapters.
* * *
Jane called Beth a couple of days later, a Thursday. She had some shopping to do at the mall and could use the company. They could make a day of it and have a lunch at the food court. That sounded like a good idea and Beth readily agreed. It was an excuse to get out of the house.
After lunch, they picked a few more things and returned by car to Jane's house. So far, it had been just an ordinary day, an outing by two neighbours who were also friends.
"Let's try again," Jane said.
"Try what?"
"Having a drink at a bar," she said. "I promise. This one a reputable. I checked it out. We can walk. It's not far from here," Jane informed her neighbour. "It's early afternoon. I don't think the male bar flies are out yet. If we're unlucky, and they bother us, we'll just swat them away." She made a back-handed gesture like she was dealing with an insect.
Beth chuckled at the dismissive way she brushed off the idea of other men trying to pick her up.
As they walked, Beth thought about her current life, her friend, and the things that had happened in the last few weeks. Both women, who were still very good-looking despite being middle-aged. They could still attract guys of varying ages who regarded unaccompanied MILFs as fair game in their hunt to get laid.
Beth was not interested in cheating on her husband with another man no matter how good he looked or how smooth he talked. Not even alcohol could break down the barrier that separated her marriage from the rest of the male population. She was impervious to their phoney charm, their empty promises, and deceptive blandishments. She was steadfastly in loyal to her Bob. Beth knew that Jane's views on marriage and other men coincided with hers.
The two women arrived in the bar around 2:00. The place was practically empty. The lunchtime crowd had gone back to their jobs while the end of the work day crowd was still hours away. Good, no bar flies to worry about and therefore no harassment. If a bar fly showed up, he would be shooed away. Their preference was to be left to themselves.
They ordered a couple of drinks and talked about all and sundry. They seemed to settle back into the kind of relationship that they had had before the inadvertent visit to the lesbian bar had shaken it.
After her third drink about an hour later, Beth was already becoming tipsy. She drank rarely, her tolerance for alcohol was low and her small frame meant that whatever she drank would have greater and faster effect then it would have on her much larger friend. She started mentally cursing herself for drinking too quickly. She knew better than to do that. Alcohol diminished her inhibitions. Was she doing this subconsciously?
As Beth finished her third drink, Jane placed her hand on Beth's thigh and said, "Tom told me he had a little talk with your husband the other day."
Beth was slightly tipsy. She focussed on Jane's implied question. She knew what Jane wanted to know. In a slightly slurred voice, she said, "He basically said it was up to me. He will agree with whatever I decide."
"Cool! You're a lucky woman," Jane said, "to have such an indulgent husband."
'Lucky?' Beth thought. 'I haven't done anything.'
So far, Beth had not reacted to the touch of Jane's hand on her thigh. Jane didn't try to rub her thigh. So Beth decided to treat her touch as a friendly gesture from a close friend. Her mood had changed and her perceptions had altered under influence of the drinks. But Beth's mindset had also changed over the last few weeks. She wasn't quite sure how. But she was certain there would no repetition of the experience she had had in the lesbian bar. Beth was confident that nothing could or would happen. They were in a public place even if the bar was practically empty.
When Jane stroked her, Beth felt felt the first signs of sexual arousal. She liked the feel of her hand. In sex, touch was the most important of the five senses. Sight, taste, or smell and or hearing were secondary. She pretended not to notice and made no attempt to stop Jane, figuring that Jane could do nothing much more anyway. Besides, maybe she was just being friendly.
Another drink drink later, Beth was feeling a definite buzz. "No more," Beth proclaimed. "Otherwise you'll have to carry me home."
"We wouldn't want that," Jane agreed. "I don't want to sling you over my shoulder and carry you home," she joked. "Okay, just one more for the road. Then we go. That last drink shouldn't hit you until you get home."
Beth started to protest but she was already too late. Jane had already ordered their last drinks. Beth gulped hers down.
"Oh dear," I think you're really feeling it now," Jane observed. "Let's go, sweetie."
The walk back home took a little longer than the walk to the bar because Beth was feeling a little wobbly and needed Jane's help. When they reach Beth's house, they stood in front of the door as Beth fumbled in her purse for her keys. "Here they are," she giggled as she lifted up the keys to show Jane.
She fumbled again while trying to unlock the door.
