Good Neighbours 6

"Oh, oh, oh!" She bounced against his pelvis, slapping flesh on flesh, then rising up to the head of his erection, supporting herself with her hands on his shoulders – head thrown back. His hands, ineffective on her hips, rose and fell with her. As she tired, he tightened his grip and held her firm on her last downstroke, his cock filling her, knocking against her cervix. After the briefest pause he swung her to the side, allowing their insertion to carry him onto her. Without losing penetration, he hunched his back and seized her right nipple between his teeth. Holding tight, he resumed pounding. Writhing on the bed beneath him, she began to squeal – a sort of inarticulate keening, rising in intensity as she pushed into her orgasm. Her squeezing, throbbing cunt, pulled him along with her, as he slammed one final thrust, and, finally letting go of her nipple, threw his head back in a growling climax, pumping a load of cum into her quivering pussy.

Flopping down beside her, they both lay panting, catching their breath. Finally she spoke, voicing his thoughts exactly. "Another great revenge-fuck, eh?" He nodded in agreement. "Can't meet tomorrow," she said, almost matter-of-factly. "I've an appointment with the investigator – to get his report."

Disappointment surfaced on Daniel's face for an instant, then morphed into a satisfied grin, as he reached out to playfully twiddle Marcia's nipples once more. They had both known, from the very start, that the affair, however brief and intense, would come to some sort of head sooner rather than later. Still it'd been a hell of a ride! Daniel' thoughts wandered back to how it had all started.

– – – – – – – – – – X – – – – – – – – – –

It had begun a few months ago – if that – six or seven weeks, maybe; anyway, it started, Daniel recalled, with his usual afternoon run following his regular early shift at the paper plant. He had just got to the end of the block when he noticed a shapely young woman coming out her front door. She looked rather chic in her designer jeans, tailored denim jacket, and low-heeled pumps. Carrying a gym bag, she walked down her front walk and graced him with a bright smile as she got into her car. To say he had never noticed her before then would have been a lie, but she was just a down-the-street neighbour with whom he had, until then, barely shared more than a passing nod. He returned a smile and watched – maybe sort of stared at – her as he ran past. She was certainly cute, with a nice figure – rather more so than he had determined from their earlier occasional passings. And she was young. He'd put her in her early thirties. That made her ten or fifteen years his junior. He reviewed her physical qualities, replaying her image across his mind's eye as he continued his run.

Better part of an hour later, just as he was completing his route, thoughts of his cute neighbor long since vapourized, she stepped back onto the walk in front of her home, in her exercise gear and carrying her gym bag. It was almost, Daniel thought, as though she were watching for him. "Hi there, neighbour," she'd said as he approached. There was a determined confidence in her voice – a no-bullshit, take-no-prisoners strength underlying her words. "I'm Marcia. How was your run?"

"Oh, hi." Daniel felt inexplicably flustered. "Yeah, good. Yeah, really good!" Embarrassed at himself for his adolescent awkwardness, he continued. "I'm Daniel. We're the gray house," he gestured down the block. "Two from the end, across the street."

"I know," she smiled. Marcia was a lithe, pretty Oriental woman, with a sculpted athletic body. Clad in her Spandex exercise gear – which she filled out very nicely, indeed – it occurred to Daniel that she looked 'spectacular!' Her ass was muscular, and tight, and well defined. Her boobs, while not overly big, were perfectly shaped – pert and firm looking. Legs long and lithe, arms strong, her figure was taut and subtly shapely, without looking anorexic. "Yes," he thought, "a fine specimen!"

"At the gym?" he asked, for lack of anything more lucid to say.

"In a manner of speaking," she replied. "Returning home from work," she explained, then went on to say that she was a fitness instructor and personal trainer at a nearby gym, and she liked to shower at home at the end of a class, hence then workout gear.

"I've seen you run by often."

"Yeah, I try to get out fairly regularly."

"Interested in company?" She smiled a thousand-watt smile at him then subtly, coyly dipped her head before adding, "I find it so much easier to run with someone than alone."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

Then they just chatted a bit, mainly small talk, agreeing that they'd meet on the street outside her house the following day but one. She was easy to talk to, Daniel thought to himself, and very easy to look at, he considered before reprimanding himself for being so crass – so carnal.

So, two days later Marcia came out just as he got to her house, and joined him. "You don't mind, do you? If I join you?"

"Of course not!" he exclaimed, "although I must warn you I may be a little slow."

They had a good run, chatting amicably, and shared a cool-down outside her place. She nipped in and got them water. They parted with a wave and a tentative date to do it again in a few days. For some odd reason – and that puzzled him – Daniel didn't mention meeting the neighbour to his wife.

Marcia joined him again, a few days later, and when they finished, this time, she invited him in to re-hydrate. As she bustled about in the kitchen, getting them water, Daniel duly noticed her camel-toe. He wondered idly if she was aware of it. Once he'd noticed, he had a hard time keeping his eyes from drifting there. It seemed, he mused, almost deliberate. Shorts drawn tight around her puffy lips, pulling deep into her slit. "She must feel that!" He watched her as she moved gracefully around the room, getting some ice and a few healthy cookies. "Is she flirting?" he wondered, but dismissed the idea as simply comfortable innocence. They parted having once again made a tentative date to run together in a couple of days.

Following their fourth run together, having stretched and cooled down, they were sitting in her kitchen chatting, as they guzzled water. Suddenly Marcia stood, and with a little demure waggle of her head, she asked coyly, "Am I attractive?" giving a spin – arms crooked, hands flexed at her hips.

Daniel's first thought was that she should have been wearing a summer dress or a pinafore. His second thought was, "What the hell is she up to?" Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, he muttered, uncertainly, "Sure," adding, after detecting a brief darkening of her eyes, "Absolutely!"

And the truth was she looked fantastic! Weaving and bobbing and turning, she displayed her Lycra-clad charms salaciously, until she finally turned around, and bending at the waist, pretty much presented him with her tight ass. Looking over her shoulder, she asked alluringly if she was succeeding in giving him any ideas. There was, Daniel felt, an almost frightening undercurrent of aggression in the question. The sexual appeal of the pose barely disguised a carnal, rather predatory energy emanating around the room, virtually crackling in the silence. "Well, inasmuch as we're both married we can't go there."

"I know," she agreed, resignedly, standing and turning back to him with an unreadable shrug, the tension almost visibly flowing from her body. Smiling once more, as if it had all been just a little joke, she added, "Under different circumstances, though... tempting? Maybe?"

Daniel nodded, unsure of himself, unsure of the situation, wary. Still, he thought to himself, "Under different circumstances? You bet!" He knew he should have just walked away – there and then, but he had his antennae up; he felt safe – enough; and his curiosity had been piqued. He wanted to know what was going on, and that overruled or overrode his caution or apprehension. So he just sat there and stared at her, intrigued, maybe a little mesmerized.

In an apparently complete change of tack, Marcia suddenly reached for the cordless landline phone, saying, with a somewhat transparent nonchalance, "Your wife is probably – what? – number 1? 2? – speed dial on your cell?"

"2," he acknowledged tentatively, a little confused. Confused, and more than a little scared, he began to rise from his chair, once more. "Well, thanks for the water – and the run. I gotta go." He felt like a teenager, stumbling over his words.

"Wait," she said, stopping, and straightening up. "Let me show you something first. It's kinda funny, really. Do you have your cell?" Puzzled, he pulled it from his fanny pack, and tentatively offered it. She snatched it from his hand with a forced casualness, but really almost like a viper strike.

She hit a speed-dial number on the landline and said, as it rang, "I'm on speaker so don't say anything. Just listen to this – in the background, I expect," then she speed-dialed on his cell. He was, he had to admit, intensely curious, as her husband answered almost breathlessly.

Marcia benignly asked him to pick up something after work. Meanwhile, in the background was his wife's distinctive ringtone! "Weird, eh?" She looked at him and raised her eyebrow. Putting both phones down on the table, she stepped toward him.

Daniel froze. He felt like he'd been sucker-punched in the gut.

"What are you waiting for?" she muttered, almost to herself, and, dazed, Daniel stepped toward her, and, as if in a trance, lifted her top and went for her boobs with his hands and mouth. Relatively quickly his demeanour became deliberate

"What's good for the goose...," he thought, wryly, but let the idea dangle as he plunged into the task at hand. Licking and sucking, nibbling her nipples, he reveled in the succulence of her breasts, and the warm smoothness of her flawless mocha skin. His right hand delved into her tights, in tactile exploration of her trimmed, shaped bush, before dragging his fingertip in circles around her clit, and plowing her slick furrow all the way to her rosebud; then returning to fiddle with her engorged clitoris. Marcia orgasmed as he sucked her nipples, as he dipped his fingers in to randomly brush her G-spot. She orgasmed again as he ate her.

Daniel was strenuously fucking Marcia – on the table, in her kitchen – when his cell rang. He slowed up slightly to answer. His wife claimed to have been driving. Because of what he now knew, he thought he could detect a tinge of worry in her voice. He said he had phoned to ask where the shed key was, but then had found it. That was as far as his planned story went, but he'd correctly figured that she would be too concerned with her situation to question him further about what he wanted in the shed.

He had fucked Marcia to a third orgasm, after he'd hung up, and had given her a fourth by eating her creampie. And thus began a bit of a marathon affair.

It surprised Daniel how quickly their rendezvouses had fallen into an established routine. Most week days as his shifts allowed. Always at the Chang residence. They always began with a run, followed by water, active sex, a shared shower, and generally ended with a companionable discussion of their situation. Although one day, early on, Marcia had had to bail immediately following the run, because, she'd explained, she'd had to meet and retain a PI; and, in fact, she'd just bailed again, to meet the PI for the delivery of his report.

– – – – – – – – – – X – – – – – – – – – –

Through the whirlwind, Daniel was amazed at how exciting it all was – the thrill of illicit sex, the kick of secretive, surreptitious fornication, the exhilaration of taking the risk. He marveled at how different it could be. Marcia was all edges and angles, where his wife, Penny, was comfortable curves. Marcia was hard and rough compared to Penny's easy smoothness. Marcia was loud and guttural where Penny would be softly mewling. Marcia was active and tough rather than gentle and rolling – taut and violent over accepting and peaceful; young and vibrant over mature and sedate.

But was it just because she was so much younger? That was part of it, for sure but definitely not all. And the differences were as enthralling as they were novel. But interestingly enough, as intense and delightful the pleasure was, Daniel realized that he and Marcia weren't 'making love'; they were just fucking. It was carnal sex, pure and simple – very pure, although maybe not so simple.

Furthermore, Daniel wondered about Penny's young stud, Marcia's husband, Craig – why on earth would he stray? Was he simply curious about older women – or was it more of a conquest thing? "Is he more virile than me?" Daniel wondered aloud one afternoon, as they basked in their afterglow.

"Not at all," Marcia assured him in a voice that suggested she was just as puzzled as him. "I don't know why he would even consider cheating." She paused and smiled at Daniel, then went on. "Maybe he just wanted to... what? – taste a more mature perspective on sex? Learn from one more experienced? I know I'm learning – and enjoying it every bit of the way." They were still for a while, while Daniel processed what she'd said. It was, he realized, a rather nice, if somewhat oblique compliment. His reverie was, however, interrupted as Marcia sat up and said, without tempering the vitriol in her voice, "Maybe the bastard just seized the opportunity; saw, in your wife, a vulnerability he could exploit."

"I don't understand," Daniel mused, as he considered Penny's transgressions. "I thought we had a great sex life."

Marcia soothed his growing insecurity. "Maybe – probably – this has nothing to do with you. Her stepping out is likely completely – completely separate from her sex life with you. That's why you haven't suspected anything."

"How long has it been going on?" Daniel wondered.

"I've suspected something for the past umpteen weeks," Marcia observed, "maybe coming on two months now."

"Well, Penny started chiropractic treatment five or six months ago. She'd strained her back at work – or so she said." Daniel pondered that for a moment before continuing, "Sex at home has been rather tentative and careful since then – and continues to be. We've been – she's been favouring her back ever since, but it obviously isn't that sore!"

Penny had neglected, for some odd reason, to mention that her chiro was a neighbor. Daniel had to grin to himself at that realization. "Kind of a neat symmetry, all things considered."

In their discussions, Marcia and Daniel pondered the probable logistics. Guessed at how it all went down. Craig had probably begun taking small liberties early in Penny's treatment – testing the waters, as it were. And she'd responded. She was probably flattered by the interest of a younger man – at least initially. "But regardless of the details," Marcia observed, barely holding back her bitterness, "Craig is an idiot! He has transgressed professional ethics by sleeping with her, and put himself at risk of professional disciplinary action! The twit!"

One time, Daniel asked, rhetorically, if, indeed, this was even her first affair – or his, he'd added, raising an eyebrow at Marcia. "Maybe not," he answered himself, "And if not, then how many before? How many others?" The questions pummeled his brain, "Who, where, when?" Curiously, he felt a sort of titillation imagining the details – the scenarios. That, in itself, was rather confusing, too.

– – – – – – – – – – X – – – – – – – – – –

"I think Penny has begun to get suspicious," Daniel commented, as they dried after another pleasantly active post-sex shower. "But she's reluctant to say anything because of her own guilt, I imagine."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I can feel her watching me closely – just lately." Daniel chuckled, softly.

"What?" Marcia asked, puzzled by his quiet mirth.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess she's struggling. It must be quite the quandary. Won't she be surprised when it all comes out?" Once again he laughed quietly to himself. Daniel wasn't at all sure about how he felt about his wife's transgression – nor about her impending come-uppance – nor, when it comes to that, about his wife, at all – now.

A few days after picking up the PI's report Marcia shared it with Daniel. She handed him a manila envelope containing a copy of the full report, including reprints of the pictures. "Peruse that and we'll talk in a day or so," she said as she handed it to him. She was almost business-like – betraying no emotions. "Don't let the wife see!" she added, unnecessarily.

The report was, Daniel had to admit to himself, very good for what it was. It was very professional, and very thorough. There was no ambiguity.

The following day, after their run – and their unbridled sex – while standing in the shower, Marcia became suddenly restless. Turning to face Daniel, she raised her chin and stood for a moment, water cascading over her face. A look of determination settled over her visage, and her steely eyes drilled into Daniel's.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"This is it," Marcia announced. "Today is D-day for Craig. You can do what you will, whenever, but I'm tired of waiting." Then a softness melted into her gaze. "I don't know when we can run again." Then she turned, stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel, and left the room. Daniel watched her leave, his mind in a turmoil.

That afternoon he returned home to find Penny waiting for him – he in his wet running gear, but freshly showered, his hair still wet. She had, somehow, coincidentally, chosen that afternoon to confront him with her suspicions.

"Are you having an affair?" she demanded, getting right to the point.

He thought she had balls, considering what she was or had been up to. He smiled as he replied, "Affair? What do you mean?" Looking at her all innocent, he raised the envelope in his hand and opened it. Pausing a moment, he returned his full attention to his wife. The angry, aggressive look on her face wavered, as fear and confusion threatened to replace the strength she had summoned for the confrontation.

Daniel began to speak as his hand delved into the envelope, pulling out a stack of photos. "I wouldn't exactly call it an affair."

"What would you call it then?" There was a quiet desperation creeping into Penny's voice, as she struggled to maintain control of the situation.

As they were talking he'd begun laying out copies of the pictures Marcia's PI had taken. "Acquaintanceship, friendship, perhaps. Shared interest. Running partner." Flipping them over, one at a time, as if he were dealing cards, Daniel revealed pictures of Marcia's husband and, surprise, surprise, his own wife.

Penny froze. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at the photographs slowly turning over before her. The pictures showed: Penny and Craig holding hands; kissing at a car window; entering what looks like an office – together; kissing at the same office door.

"Just getting to know the neighbours," Daniel continued, closely watching Penny's reaction. "The Changs up the street seem nice. We should have them over for dinner some time. I think you know Mr. Chang – Craig, isn't it?" As much as he tried, Daniel couldn't prevent a note of sarcasm from creeping into his voice. Neither could he suppress the smug grin that curled the corners of his mouth.

The last picture he tapped, before flipping over, saying, more or less to himself, "This is the best. It's a video screen shot." It was taken through a window, apparently through a gap in the blinds, at a mirror behind a desk. Reflected in that mirror was Penny, bent over the front of the desk, resting on her forearms, her hair tousled, her bare tits hanging down; with Marcia's husband Craig gripping her hips, and pumping into her rear. Both had orgasmically intense looks on their faces.