My Neighbor

Authors Note: Literotica defines Loving Wives as 'Married extra-marital fun: swinging, sharing & more.' If you have trouble reading a story/series like this, please don't read any further.

If you do read, I hope you enjoy.

*

I first met Louise at a Christmas party a few years ago. We didn't hit it off that time, merely exchanging pleasantries. I noticed of course her stunning beauty. She had thick wavy blonde hair and striking blue eyes with full luscious lips. Her body was impeccably fit with a heart-stopping smile. She was dressed somewhat demurely, but I was completely captivated by her looks and would have liked nothing better than a chance to hit on her. I'm pretty good-looking, but after chatting with her for a brief 5 minutes, I realized she wasn't the sort of girl to give me a second glance. Perhaps she saw right through me, as I was kind of a hound back then.

When we met again months later, as we bumped into each other at the gym, everything seemed different. Her beauty hadn't changed, but now it didn't seem unattainable. Now she was different. It was like the mutual interest of fitness, and the more casual setting allowed her to act more herself. My image of her as a snooty, aloof princess disappeared. She wasn't into casual hookups and wasn't promiscuous. So we flirted a bit and she was not in the slightest coy or disinterested, in fact, she asked if I wanted to have a beer after finishing our workout, and I eagerly accepted.

So the date happened, and nothing of a sexual nature happened. We merely chatted and exchanged stories of our mutual interests. She told me her ambition for teaching, and that she might become a PE teacher one day and I told her of my business plans, of my aspirations and hopes for a more serious life. And even as we parted with the niceties of giving a goodnight kiss, we still didn't feel particularly shy around each other.

In fact, my boldness began to flourish. The next day, she sent me a text

'nice evening last night. Perhaps we should have some dinner next time, not just alcohol'.

So of course, we went. Dinner was good, the conversation flowed effortlessly and things felt like the progress was quite smooth. One night later, at our "3rd" official meeting, Louise was definitely more eager and willing than usual to express her feelings of our potential relationship. She was forthright.

"Look Johnny, you're an amazing guy and you've got your life together," she said, sitting with me on my worn couch at my old apartment. "It's quite unusual to find a guy with such clarity of purpose as yours. I think we both know where our little thing here is going."

"We do?" I replied, trying to play coy. I didn't want to jump to conclusions yet.

"Well, you're tall and cute, and you're charming," she continued as if I hadn't said anything. "If you want to keep seeing me, I'm open to that, if you're wondering what this means."

So weeks of dating became months of dating, and slowly things did turn more serious. This was a woman I could actually envision a future with, and within a year we moved in together, which turned into marriage, which turned into four years. Louise and I got on splendidly as we soon approached our late twenties. Louise was the proud, confident wife I could only imagine in my dreams, her sense of humor made me laugh, her zest for life was infectious, and her face was perfection itself. The perfect combination for a lively PE teacher, a job she obtained shortly after we got married. We moved to the suburbs of a college town in southern Indiana, because of Louise's new job.

The sex life was just as phenomenal. Louise never wanted to do anything that made her feel demeaned or that she found nasty, which was alright as she made up for it by being an utter bombshell anyway. Honestly, I didn't want to put her in a position where she felt any less than herself anway. While she enjoyed sex just as much as I did, this meant no blow jobs, doggystyle, anal, threesomes and so on. Either she didn't like it because it made her feel dirty or slutty, or because she thought it looked "demeaning." She didn't enjoy me cumming on her either, or us making messes. So nothing too adventurous was possible.

I sound like a complainer, but I swear she was a sexy goddess in bed. Sinking myself between her strong, sexy thighs was nothing short of great. I loved going down on her, one of the things she adored, hearing her moans, her groans, feeling her fingers grabbing at my head, trying to force me down in her pussy. Feeling her clench my head with her strong thighs as I made her cum, and watching her beautiful face sparkle in the process was heavenly. Not only was she extremely beautiful, but her confidence was evident during our lovemaking. I also got to enjoy the physical gifts Louise has given me. One of the more noticeable being the fullness of her chest. Her large and full tits always stood proud on her chest, while her rear was supple and well-formed.

As great as things were between me and Louise, there was always this nagging fantasy I couldn't get out of my mind. Something she simply would never do. For 4 years, I hid that nagging little secret of a dark cuckold desire. I didn't hide it from just Louise though. I was still a shy person who only thought about it secretly in the depths of my mind, and spoke to none.

But you can't keep those sorts of things buried forever. Perhaps the floodgates of our psyche are determined by genetics, or something we picked up in childhood. Perhaps Louise herself was the key. As our 5th anniversary neared, I spilled the beans. She wasn't exactly thrilled by my ideas, even as I assured her it was just a fantasy I had.

"I don't understand it," said Louise. "Why would I want another man inside of me? What do you want me to do? Bang him right in front of you while you watch or something like that?"

"Look, Louise," I said, as she stared angrily at me. I knew that I'd messed things up here. "Look, let's forget it. I don't

want

you to do anything. It's just a fantasy. Not something we ever need to think about, but sometimes guys get these dark thoughts, and it's kind of an aphrodisiac. Just ignore the whole thing."

"Well, I'm never doing it. It would be disrespectful to our marriage. It would make me feel cheap, like some whore. What kind of a wife do you think I'd be? My body is yours, and none others!" she finished as she spat these last words out. I was crestfallen.

Things changed that weekend after I had told her. We took a mini holiday for our anniversary and even as the weekend got off to a great start, there was definitely something strange between me and Louise. Maybe my stupid confession earlier had unsettled something in her mind, maybe it had awakened something in her. When we had sex at night on Friday, her cries of pleasure felt muted, and the glow on her face seemed almost forced. Perhaps I was going crazy, or I was already reading way too much into her behavior.

"What's the matter?" I asked. Louise and I could talk about anything, so if I had fucked things up or something was amiss, we could always hash things out.

"Nothing Johnny. I'm fine. Just fine," she muttered, staring back at the TV. "It's that damn fantasy of yours. I don't like it, but it keeps rolling through my head whenever we have sex. I can't help myself from thinking about it. And I get sorta distracted."

"God, look Louise, let's put it to bed. I love you and just us, together. We don't have to revisit it at all, and I certainly don't want to cause you any sort of torment," I said. Louise's eyes glittered, and she got a distant, thoughtful expression.

"Well," she said slowly. "You've already mentioned it, so I guess you wouldn't be so keen to forget it. Just what about this cuckold stuff that turns you on so much? It can't just be about the humiliation or having your wife called a slut. Do you truly think about me with other men?"

"Well," I said uncertainly. "Look, Louise. Cuckold stuff. Well, there's so many things that come under that. One, that a wife's body belongs to her husband. So the idea that another man gets to feel what I feel makes me a bit excited. Another person knows what his dear wife feels like."

Louise didn't make any sign to chime in so I went on, "As we've said, the degradation part, the humiliating aspect also arouses me. The hurt, the pain... It arouses me. You called cuckold fantasies dirty and unrefined, well it is, I'm not denying that, but then, I am a 'man.' A guy like me and a woman as hot as you, us as a couple, we shouldn't get cucked. It would be the biggest insult to the universe itself, but that is why a guy feels aroused by it. Something's so dirty about it, the insult of getting cucked makes it so tantalizing, even though we hate it."

I took a deep breath. "All this makes me sound like a man obsessed. I just find it hot to think about sometimes. You doing stuff you should only do with me with some stranger asshole or whatever... even doing stuff you wouldn't do with me..."

"I think I understand. I kinda guess it is fine as a fantasy... I guess... It would be nuts to do something like that though. Someone else than you would know me... intimately. And what if we regret it? What if it destroys our happiness? Look, I can't deny that when we're making love, and we're both into it, nothing is better than those moments. The heat, the closeness, our souls seem to meld. We become one, and nothing can destroy that," said Louise in a distant voice, like she was remembering something. "When we're into each other and into having sex, nothing is finer in this world. Just two people sharing themselves in a bed. Why would you want me to experience that with another man? A foreign object inside your home? It seems like a silly idea."

"To me as well, but a thought of you being fucked by another guy is like a constant lurking idea I can never fully escape from," I replied. "But it's just a fantasy. Nothing is more important than us, and our marriage. Let's not worry about it."

Louise was silent for a long moment, before nodding. I hoped we could forget all about this stupid fantasy of mine, and move forward. I knew she was a dedicated wife and it would nag her that I had such desires and there was nothing we could do about it. But that is life.

"Maybe I'll indulge some of your... wishes... one day. But not that one," Louise assured. "As your wife, I want to fulfill your sexual desires, but that one sits deep. I'd almost wish it was just a threesome with a girl or something."

"Hey, I wouldn't mind that either," I chuckled, defusing the situation. "Whatever you're comfortable with. I'm a happy man as it is."

*

A week later, things had returned to normal. Louise was a bit more playful, a bit more willing to engage in her kinkier side, a bit more interested in making love. She even started riding me, which we both found great delight in. Her tits bouncing in my face as she got to control the pace and stimulation herself? It was a game changer in the bedroom.

"See? Some variation can be fun," I panted.

"You're not wrong, mister," Louise panted right back, her hands pushed into my chest as she bounced on my dick.

But everything seemed normal, and I felt no need to dwell on the subject further. On a Saturday morning, we were enjoying some coffee on the veranda. Louise was in a thoughtful mood, and her eyes were gazing somewhere off in the distance, like she was remembering something.

"Johnny, that idea, the cuckold stuff. I was wondering," she began.

I didn't reply, because I didn't know what was coming. This was the second time she brought it up on her own.

"How do you even get into this kind of a thing? How did it come to you?" Louise asked. "I'm just trying to wrap my head around it. Some guys want threesomes, some want this and that, but your fantasy is so... weird. What do you get out of it?"

"Oh, I guess I just found it arousing for no real reason. Sometimes, I guess people have a fetish, and they find it hard to explain," I answered. "It's like a thrill thing. Doing something you're not supposed to. See you satisfied, contort with pleasure, but due to another man. It's the ultimate taboo, sort of."

"Yeah, but, well, have you been looking at porn or something like that? Is that how you discovered this?" Louise asked.

"No. Not really. I mean, I did at first, but now I don't have a need for porn anymore. You're more than enough. I guess I read some stories and dived into a rabbit hole of sorts," I said, playing it cool, but inside my heart was thudding in anticipation of where Louise was going with this.

"Hmm," Louise looked thoughtful. "I'm not saying I'm interested, because I'm not, and neither should you be, but is it something you ever envision doing for real? This is not a proposition, I'm just wondering."

My heart pounded hard at that. The thought of my proud wife thinking of defiling herself with something so preposterous made my chest burn and a pit burned in my stomach. Did she truly consider it? I was almost afraid to answer her, if this was truly her broaching the possibility.

"Uh, yeah. I suppose. If you were ever okay with it, if you could ever enjoy it, then yes, I would want you to do it. But you're not into that, are you?" I wanted to give her every out, but just her asking that was such a giant leap for mankind.

"Well," Louise looked away. "I think you know the answer to that. I would never do it normally. But maybe if it were a special circumstance. I'm not sure. I don't want to hurt you. But I also want to be able to fulfill your... fetishes or whatever..."

"There's no pressure. It's just a thing I sometimes like to think about," I said, feeling almost unsure how I hoped for her to reply.

"But as your wife I want to satisfy your needs, even if they're a bit... fucked," Louise said.

"You've done that, and you do," I said, as we stared into each other's eyes, a warm silence enveloping us.

"When do you think about it?" Louise asked. Normally admitting to let your mind wander during sex with someone was not a good thing, but I was dedicated to keeping things honest.

"When I read mostly. But also sometimes... when we make love," I answered, trailing off.

Louise didn't reply right away. She sat back as if in thought, recollecting the things I had said.

"It's just, the thought is still rolling around in my mind," Louise eventually said. "I don't get turned on by the idea of another guy touching me, but if you're watching, and if we do it safely, then, maybe. Maybe. Perhaps if it were a special occasion. I'm not sure. You can't rush into these things. They have consequences," finished Louise. I felt her hand on my chest. She could be very sensual, when she was in the mood.

"Thanks for being honest," was all I could think to say. "And thanks for giving it so much thought."

"Well, I care about you. We're soon in our thirties and I want us to have a full life together, in the bedroom too," she explained. "So who would be the ideal partner? In the stories you read, what is the men like?"

"Normally, in like ninety percent of the stories, the so-called 'bull' is some adonis, the ultimate chad or something corny like that. But honestly, I find it way hotter if it is some guy where you're way out of his league. Like almost like a fat slob, bully or something like that," I explained.

"The fuck? Really? You'd want me to have sex with someone you don't even like?" Louise asked, slightly dumbfounded.

"In fiction the guys are not real," I started. "But yes, there is something so sexy about your wife, a beauty like you, having sex with this, just... ugly man. Having his way with her. A goody two shoes white picket fence girl, the daughter of a cop, having his sperm pumped in her, defiled by his dick, just totally rewritten by some loser or fat dude or whatever. And no, not you. The people in the stories I read. It's a fantasy," I reassured.

"But you want it to be real, right?" Louise asked.

"It's a dangerous thing to admit, but I think I do," I answered. "You're so proper, so sexy and hot, beautiful from your heart to your ass (Louise smiled at that), and the thought of someone defiling you... that's the wrong word. I mean, having his way with you, forcing you into a position where you can't deny the pleasures he gives you..."

I realized that I was rambling, sounding foolish, and immediately went quiet.

"Maybe I can think about it. If it will make you happy," said Louise, giving me an encouraging smile. "You shouldn't hold this stuff in Johnny. This is all totally normal, no matter what society would lead you to think. Let's agree that we will not jump into anything crazy. Now we both know it's out there. Okay?"

"Okay. Yeah. You're right," I said, slowly pulling my head out of the gutter.

I then noticed the sun peeking past the curtain of our bedroom. It was likely one of the last nice, warm days before the fall. As much as I wanted this conversation to continue, we also had a life to live, and the things about any fetish, BDSM, cuckoldry, and so on, one had to tread carefully and together. Letting it linger was probably for the best.

"We shouldn't spoil a nice day talking about depraved stuff like that though," I smiled weakly. "Speaking of nice days, today is the big neighborhood party. Let's not worry about it and instead enjoy the rest of the day."

Louise was smiling and looked relieved, perhaps that we weren't discussing the cuckold thing anymore, or that I was so cool about the whole thing.

Later, we got ready and made our way over to the neighbor's house. It was a big house, and the entire cul-de-sac was there. It was a nice, sunny afternoon and the mood was upbeat. We went around the back, where there was a huge grill, and a massive table. A dozen different foods were available, and people were milling around, chatting and eating. Our hosts were an elderly couple. Mrs. Anderson was a very nice lady, and her husband was a jolly sort. They had moved here a few years ago, and were always the life and soul of the neighborhood.

After we helped ourselves to some food, we began mingling. Louise went to hers, and I went to mine. We spent so much time together that when we were at parties we tended to separate and then reconnect throughout the night. The neighbors were quite friendly, and there were a few new faces, but most were familiar. Even some of the students who lived in the neighborhood had dropped by, namely Lana and Mary, two 18 year old teenagers who lived a few houses down the street.

After an hour, I spotted Louise at the other end of the backyard, talking to a young guy. I recognized him from the neighbors directly across the street, but didn't know him personally. He was not a very good-looking kid. I knew he was either 18 or 19. Quite girthy and stocky, not really a muscular guy, a bit chunky. His face was bland and his black hair was a mess. More ogre than anything. It didn't look like the talk was any kind of nefarious, but that didn't stop my mind from wandering.

Perhaps I was a bit tipsy, and getting slightly horny, but I decided to give them some privacy and headed to the bathroom. It was a big house and had an upstairs bathroom. As I walked towards the staircase, I glanced at the living room. Through the bay window, I could see Louise and the kid. She was keeping it cordial and at arm's length, but I couldn't help but imagine her doing something inappropriate with him especially due to our conversation earlier. My heart began to pound, and my mouth became dry. I imagined his hands running over her body, him taking in her delicious forms. Groping her, licking her giant t-

"No, no, no, no, stop thinking those sorts of things. You're a married man and your wife is a goddess," I muttered. "You don't want her fucking some chump. Or anyone. It's just a silly fantasy, nothing more. Just ignore it."