Chapter 1
"Jess, you're the only one I could say this to," my friend Marie said a hushed and rather conspiratorial tone, "But I'm so damned glad that golf season is here."
We were having coffee on Saturday morning, Marie Lefevre, my next door neighbor and I, as we had almost every Saturday morning for the past seven or eight years. Her husband, Chris, sat in the next room, polishing up his clubs, preparing for tomorrow morning, when, along with three of his friends, he would head to the golf course for the first round of the spring.
I cocked my head and looked at her. "Why is that?" I asked.
She moved her head as if to whisper in my ear. "Maybe he," turning her eyes to her hubby, "will stop thinking about sex for a while and concentrate on improving his game .
Now Marie never struck me as someone who might not be interested in sex, but then I assumed that most women in their late thirties and early forties, like me, couldn't get enough. I knew I sure couldn't. The phrase "in her sexual prime" fit me to a tee, and the whole idea of not wanting sex was foreign to me.
"I'm not sure I follow you, Marie."
She looked at me and shrugged. "I've never been a very sexual person, and just lately I seem to be even more put off by it than ever. But Chris, he's always wanted more than I've been inclined to give, and lately, over the past year or so, since Jan moved out and got her own apartment, he's been like a horny teenager. It's caused a fair bit of friction, I can tell you."
I chuckled, but it wasn't one prompted by any funny thoughts. "Do you find it funny?" she looked at me as if I insulted her.
"Funny, no. Ironic, yes." I said. "Here you are complaining about Chris wanting sex, and I'm aching inside because Walter hasn't made love to me in six weeks. I'm buying batteries for my vibrator in bulk. Say," I said with a real laugh this time. "can I borrow your husband for a couple of hours later tonight?" She looked at me, wondering if I was serious or not. "Just kidding." I said.
She knew about Walter's heart attack scare. My husband, ten years older than me, had experienced some chest pains several weeks ago. Even though his doctor had reassured him that nothing at all showed up in the battery of tests that they'd put him through, he had been frightened by it and was convinced that he would die of a massive heart attack if he exerted himself at all. Exertion included sex with his wife.
"He'll get over it, I'm sure." She said, trying to make me feel better.
It was three weeks later, on a Saturday night, that I thought about Marie, Chris, and sex again at the same time. We were at a neighborhood party, a dozen or so couples gathered at Deb and Barry Tyler's big home. Theirs was one of the largest houses on the block and the site of what had become an annual get-together. It was fairly late in the evening, and those who enjoyed their wine had consumed a few glasses. I certainly had. I was hanging onto Walter's arm as he talked shop with Barry, who was in the same business as Walter, real estate. I was bored and was gazing around the room when my eyes stopped on Chris and Marie. They were sitting together on one of the big couches in the living room, and as I watched it appeared that Chris was trying to cop a feel of one of Marie's breasts. I'm sure my eyebrows went up when she yanked his hand away and said something to him that was plainly intended to put him off. He looked at her, obviously irritated, got up and walked off into the kitchen. I wondered to myself which of them I should feel sorry for, and decided that he deserved my sympathy more than her. He and I appeared to be in the same boat, as far as getting much was concerned.
Several minutes later, Deb sidled up to me and took my hand. "Jess, would you be a sweetie and grab some sandwiches out of the basement fridge sometime soon? There's no rush, there are still a few left up here. I have to go and mix up some more dip for the veggies, everyone seems to like that new recipe that my sister e-mailed me."
"Sure, be glad to help." I told her. She returned to her kitchen, and seeing that the conversation that Walter and Barry were having wasn't getting any less tedious, I decided to do my bit to help out. I nudged Walter. "I'm going to help Deb for a while. See ya."
I got halfway down the stairs as Chris rounded the corner coming up, hands full of beer cans. I guess my sudden appearance startled him, because he was suddenly attempting to juggle six or eight beers, without success. I helped him pick them up. "I saw some empty cases here earlier....", looking around, trying to remember where it was I had seen them. I looked up to find him staring at me.
"Jess, you look great tonight." There was an awkward silence as we looked into each other's eyes. I stepped toward him, then hesitated just a second before leaning into him and giving him a light kiss. It felt wonderful, and went straight to my pussy. I'd had enough wine to drink to lower any inhibitions I might have had about kissing my neighbor, and kissed him again. His arms enclosed me and I opened my mouth to let his tongue slide against mine. I didn't resist when his hands came around to cup my breasts. My nipples were erect and he found them and rolled them between his fingers through my thin bra. God, I was on the verge of losing it. I was so damned horny, still not getting fucked by my husband. My breasts are always sensitive and he was making me crazy. I reached down and felt for his cock. It was hard and ready as I knew it would be.
"Christ, Jess, if we don't stop soon, I'm going to have to fuck you. You know that that, don't you?"
