This is my first attempt at erotica. Feedback, comments, and constructive criticism are welcome. This story contains cuckolding, cheating (sort of), rough sex, and some male on male action. Feel free to skip over this submission if any of these offend you.
1.
Jack dropped the box with a finality that he felt adequately expressed how sick of moving he was. It was the last box, one of the heavy ones containing books he couldn't bear to part with. Most of his other possessions and accoutrement of the past 13 years of his life had either had been offloaded through a garage sales and outright donations to homeless shelters. He had split from his wife, Amanda, amicably enough: she had abruptly decided to start fucking her coach at the gym and, hey, who was he to stop her. Their sex life had gotten stale over the years and, if he were honest with himself, he would miss her body but wasn't too fussed about losing her as a person. They had simply grown apart and maybe it was just inertia that had kept them together anyway.
This was his fresh start, a new beginning that he would use to re-invent himself. Since the bombshell of discovering the existence of her extracurricular horizontal aerobics he realized that he had often fantasized about completely uprooting his life and starting over. He suspected that many other people had the same fantasies. Either way, he had fled the bitter winters of the northeast for the warmer climes of Florida, settling into a house on a cozy cul-de-sac with surprisingly large lots just outside of Naples. The beach was all white sand with blue green water, and to the east were large tracks of undeveloped land apparently protecting panthers and big cypresses. His backyard had the requisite pool, hot tub, and trellis full of bougainvillea that were almost garish over the top of the outdoor bar. The house itself was of recent construction, a large open floor plan with a fantastic kitchen and a third bedroom that begged to be renovated into a man cave.
Jack noticed a few curious neighbors peeking out from behind curtains or watering flowers for too long, hoping to catch a glimpse of the new tenant but he was too busy directing the movers on where to place the few items of furniture that he'd brought along to start the herculean task of introductions. As the movers packed up to leave Jack busied himself throwing cups and dishes into the dishwasher, dumping clothes into the closet and dresser, and stacking entirely too many empty, broken down boxes in the garage. As the afternoon wore on and the shadows lengthened he saw a few kids riding bikes under the watchful eyes of parents and heard more than one mower roar to life. Suburban life has its own rhythms Jack mused. Back home, he had to stop thinking like that, they had only ever lived in apartments, cloistered away from neighbors and any sense of community other than the brief nods to each other in the halls or on the elevators. He supposed that the new Jack would need to become a much more social animal than the old Jack and wondered how many missteps he would make before he learned the routine.
He almost bounced out of bed the next morning, determined to make more headway on turning the house into his home. He had unpacked everything last night and realized that the house felt empty. There were no pictures on the walls, no art on sideboards, no rugs on the hickory floors: nothing but the fierce sterility of the stainless-steel kitchen appliances reflected in the gleaming granite of the counters. He took his morning cup of coffee out to the back deck and watched the sky change from midnight blue to gray and finally to pink. The weak sunlight brought the features of the yard into relief: he'd have to get someone to maintain it. But no, he thought, the new Jack cuts his own grass and gets his hands dirty. He'd never had a lawn to take care of before but figured it couldn't be that hard. It was Florida in the spring time after all: how hard could it be to make stuff grow?
He dressed for a morning jog, figuring to get a better idea about the layout of the neighborhood and feel for how the community handled Sunday mornings. He had kept in shape, opting to forgo the dad bods that seemed so popular with men in their thirties. He had been a swimmer when he was younger, not good enough for the college team and as an adult with little time he had taken up jogging on a treadmill. How sterile was that, he thought to himself as he watched the sky take on a light blue hue, winding his way down the curving streets amidst the almost tropical vegetation in the well-manicured lawns.
Half an hour later found him turning back onto his own street, sweating profusely. He hadn't expected the humidity, though he should have, he chided himself. As he cooled down and approached his house he was hailed from a porch on his right.
"So you're the house on the end now, eh?" a high, though not unpleasant male voice called.
"That's me" Jack replied, sizing up his interlocutor, a guy in his mid-30's (Jack guessed) with straight, light brown hair that was thinning on top and one of the aforementioned dad bods.
"I'm Bill, nice to meet you" offered the man and extended his hand.
"Jack. It's a pleasure" he replied.
"So Jack, how'd you get so lucky as to land here?" Bill asked. He stood as he talked, displaying a frame about 4 inches shorter than Jack's 6' that clearly spent too much time indoors in front of a desk.
"I haven't been able to decide whether it was luck or not yet" Jack chuckled. "My marriage of over a decade just crashed and burned, so I figured it was time to get the hell away from the cold winters and get some more sun in my life."
"Damn. Well they say no good marriages end in divorce. I'll confess that mine is a happy one. Debbie and I have been together almost 10 years ourselves. You'll have to meet her later -- she's one of the social butterflies of our little group here." As Bill talked Jack couldn't help but notice a curvy figure pass through the translucent curtains and mentally agreed that he and Debbie would have to meet. Not that he was looking to come between Bill and his wife, but who doesn't like to meet curvy women?
"Group?" asked Jack, thrown a little. "What group?"
"Oh, nothing formal" Bill replied with a chuckle. "Several folks in the neighborhood like to hang out socially on the weekends, especially the ones not chasing their kids all over. Think rotating dinners with courses being served at different houses. Some of the ladies also have a book club and go to the gym together. The guys don't really have anything so regular, but we do occasionally get together to watch the Dolphins lose" he said with a wry grin and a chuckle.
"I'm a bit of a gym rat and book worm myself, though I can't see myself joining any clubs" Jack said with a laugh of his own. "And I'd be happy to watch the Dolphins lose. It'd be a nice change of pace. All there was back up north was talk of the Pats and I couldn't stand it. Maybe I can host one of the games. I've got a big to-do list, but making a safe space for the guys to watch the game is towards the top of my list. Right after I figure out keep the yard at bay."
"New to this, eh?" Bill said with a bark of laughter. "What equipment do you have?"
Jack held up his hands and looked at them as Bill shook with laughter again. "I'm happy to help. I'll tell Debbie that I'm heading out and we'll get you all set up."
Fifteen minutes later, a freshly showered Jack picked Bill up and they followed Bill's directions to the local big box hardware store. Their conversation had flowed easily enough, both men filling in the details of their lives to the extent possible in a short time. Bill's suggestions on landscaping equipment made sense and Jack followed his advice, arranging for the larger items to be delivered later in the week.
"If only it would be that easy to fill the damn house" Jack grumbled.
"I may be able to help you there as well neighbor" Bill said. "Debbie runs a small art gallery and her best friend Allison is a freelance interior decorator. I'm sure they'll treat you right."
The phrasing seemed a bit odd to Jack but he didn't comment other than to agree to meet with both women if Bill could arrange it. Bill explained that Allison and her husband Tony were currently traveling to visit Allison's family but would be back by the following weekend. "The Millers used to live in your house. Nice family. We didn't know them well but they had a pack of young kids that kept them busy. I think you'll fit it well with our circle of friends: we all have similar interests and share a lot of the same activities."
As Jack dropped him off, Bill said he'd have Debbie text him to arrange a meeting about his future artwork. Jack readily agreed and thanked Bill for his help. "I'm wondering whether I'm biting off more than I can chew!" he exclaimed as he put the car in gear.
"I'm sure that Debbie will make you feel right at home. Please feel free to let her know exactly what you want. I'm sure she'll let you know what she'd like to see you do as well. She's definitely not afraid to speak her mind and I've learned to let her do what she wants." Bill's words again had a bit of an odd phrasing, but Jack just raised a hand in farewell as before slowly driving the few hundred feet to his own house.
2.
Debbie's text arrived as Jack passed into the house proper from the garage. Apparently she had time this afternoon and wondered if he would be available to chat about his ideas. Having no plans of his own he agreed and shortly before 1 o'clock he heard the doorbell chime. Opening the door to the humidity and sunshine he found a woman of about 5'7", the same height as her husband whose face was obscured by overly large sunglasses and a broad floppy hat. Her sundress danced lazily around her figure in the warm breeze, hinting at curves that Jack couldn't quite keep his eyes from searching out.
"Debbie" she said, extending her hand. "I've heard all about you from Bill and am so glad you two have hit it off. He could use some outside influence. Most of the guys around here spend too much money paying other people to do the work that they should in the yard and too much time in the office. I'm hoping that you can provide the example for what us women want in their men." Her eyes had held his until the last few words at which point she gave him a less-than-quick once over.
With that, she swept off her hat, revealing straight, silky, shoulder length dark brown hair. As the sunglasses disappeared into her purse he found her bright green eyes flashing mischievously at him. "So," she said, "tell me about your preferences." He attempted to, talking about his love for books, oddities such as hourglasses and fossils, his love of the simple abstract art, and his desire to create a warm yet masculine space. Her eyes never left his face as he spoke. She took no notes but seemed to drink him in as he rambled on.
Beginning to feel a bit embarrassed by how long he had droned on, he abruptly asked her if she'd like to take a look around. She readily agreed and as they walked from room to room she scrutinized the layout and space, making suggestions and continuing to probe him on his likes and dislikes. For Jack's part, being in such close proximity to a striking, self-confident woman was a balm that he hadn't realized he needed. He hadn't dated anyone since Amanda. He couldn't justify the effort once his mind had been made up to move.
"What are all of these?" her question broke him from his reverie and he realized she was looking at the heavy boxes of books.
"Books" he said, a bit guiltily. "I couldn't seem to let them go after the divorce. I got rid of most of my stuff before coming down here. I suppose I'm not so much on an eastern ascetic journey as a southern one. Seems to be more my style" he finished with a grin.
