[ Hi everyone,
First off, I want to say thank you for your patronage and reading my stories and enjoying them. My goal simply is to make fun engaging stories that people can enjoy and I'm always aiming to become better at this craft.
That being said, sometimes the creative process doesn't go the way we think or want. When I set out to write, I don't do so with an outline or much of a plan. I simply have a vision and a direction, and I go. That's how I started off with this series. As I've moved forward with it though, I have come to the conclusion that... I have done it wrong.
Progress on this series has been difficult and I kept wondering why. When I finally sat down and thought about it, I realized that the story was fine, but it was the way I was writing it that was wrong. The structure in which I was telling the story wasn't working. Maybe this makes sense to some of you, maybe it doesn't. Maybe you agree, maybe you don't. I understand if you don't, I was resistant to this conclusion, but as a writer, sometimes you have to "start over" because what you've put down doesn't flow or work quite right.
So, what I've decided to do is essentially "Restart" the story.
What does this mean?
It means I'm going to go back to the beginning and start to restructure how this story flows and how it progresses. This does NOT mean I'm going to re-write everything and start a whole different story/series. This does NOT mean I'm abandoning the story and doing something completely new. The story is the same. What is going to be different is how I put it together. Sorry if that's a bit confusing, but once I get out the new version, you'll probably understand better. The current 0-2 Chapters are going to be pulled apart. Pieces moved around. Some additions, maybe some subtractions, but ultimately the same story.
Think of stories as lego pieces. Sometimes when putting it together you think it's right, but then you realize you forgot a piece, or the colors you used were wrong, or you did it backwards. I've been putting this 'set' together wrong, and I need to dismantle it and start back over so that it doesn't collapse.
I know this can be frustrating and annoying, believe me, it's the last thing I want to do. But I believe in putting out the best product possible and to move forward with something that doesn't feel right or work is a betrayal of my creativity.]
Chapter 1
Tara came down the stairs, an old pink gym bag over her shoulder and dressed in worn black yoga pants and a Hello Kitty t-shirt she liked to wear when she was relaxing. Her deep red hair was in a ponytail swishing at her neck as she went to grab the car keys from their hook.
"Okay, I'm gonna head out." Her voice was cheery and nonchalant.
James looked over at his wife from his place on the couch. He took a sip of his soda watching her. This was the fifth time she'd gone out to the gym lately. A flimsy excuse now that he was paying attention.
"I'll be out late. I'm going out with Sarah after for a drink." Tara said. "Don't wait up, okay?" She blew James a kiss and gave him a wink before heading to the garage.
That wink screamed at him as he watched her backside swaying in her yoga pants. A tight handful of an ass that always turned a head.
Before she disappeared into the garage, her t-shirt fluttered and a flash of purple lace appeared. A little whale tale from her panties. When had she gotten purple underwear? James hadn't seen anything in the laundry like it before.
In a flash she was out the door, the sound of the garage and the car backing out filled the quiet before it faded and everything was silent again.
James's mind waged a war. His curiosity was piqued. More than piqued, it was a full-blown siren. What was she doing? Where was she going? The possibilities ran through his mind, but he didn't want to accept the most likely answer. But it had been weeks since this behavior had become truly noticeable, and he couldn't just ignore it anymore.
Curiosity may have killed the cat, but James thought he could weather the truth better than some mangy feline.
Picking up the phone, he quickly called his next-door neighbor, Joni. She was a lovely older woman whose husband had passed away a few years ago. In her early sixties, she was still very energetic and didn't look a day over forty, despite her silver hair. Since moving to the neighborhood, she'd been a great resource, willing to babysit at the drop of a hat. Retired, she was more than willing to come over on almost any occasion so Tara and James could have a night out to themselves.
His excuse tonight was that Tara was going out with a friend to the gym, and he needed to make a quick run to his office. He'd forgotten something and needed to get it. No, it couldn't wait till Monday. Joni wasn't one to pry, so she came over quickly, allowing James to hop into his car. He'd activated Tara's 'Find My Phone' feature and was going to track her. Hopefully, he was wrong. Hopefully she was telling the truth and James was just being a jealous, over protective husband.
Near the end of Terrace Street, which led out of the cul-de-sac, James pulled out his phone and looked at the map.
The indicator said his wife was... wait, that couldn't be right. It was indicating a house that was literally right across the community circle, in the middle of the cul-de-sac. It said she was at Daryl's house.
"What?" He muttered.
Why would she be at Daryl's? The man was a bit of a recluse. A nerdy fellow who worked from home and seemed to be very well off, doing whatever it was he did. He was nice enough. Standoffish, but funny. Shy but with a sort of arrogant presence that was hard to describe. Despite being a bit overweight with oily dark hair, he didn't seem to take up much space. It was easy to overlook him unless he wanted to be seen. He was a regular attendee at the community game nights and was overall, a decent person to be around.
But why would Tara lie about going to his house? Why go there at all?
James pulled his car around the corner and noticed Tara's car parked at the end of the block. So she'd driven here, gotten out, and walked back to Daryl's. It made James's stomach clench. What was going on?
Something in the back of his mind screamed the answer, but he ignored it. There was no way... Daryl was... well it seemed mean to say he was unattractive. Unappealing. Out of Tara's league. But... if the shoe fits...
There had to be some other explanation.
He sat in the car for a few minutes, looking at his phone, wondering if maybe the location was off. But the icon didn't move. He turned off his phone and turned it back. The indicator continued to hover over Daryl's home.
With a pit in his stomach, James slipped out of his car and jogged back into the cul-de-sac towards Daryl's. He kept to the shadows as best he could, not wanting one of his neighbors to see him and ask what he was doing. Not that it was odd for him to be out, he could easily just say he was out for a late night jog. However, it was dark, and he hadn't brought a flashlight and wasn't wearing anything reflective, just a dark pair of sweatpants and t-shirt. It might raise suspicion and he didn't want to get the whole place gossiping.
Please let it just be a misunderstanding. He thought as he snuck across Daryl's lawn towards the side of the house. The hedges were thick, but not impossible to get through, though he did scratch his arms a little. No blood thankfully. The first window he came to was looking into the dining room. It was furnished with a large table and chairs, no evidence of his wife or Daryl.
The next window had a patch of flowers under it that he had to step around carefully so as not to crush them as he eased himself up to look inside. This one looked into Daryl's living room. It was brightly lit with a dark leather couch and two high-backed chairs. There was a fireplace that was crackling and snapping with a fire that added to the heat in the room. Daryl was sitting on the couch, his side facing the window, arms crossed over his head as he leaned back, sinking deep into the couch. His D&D t-shirt was old and stretched out, barely covering his hairy, rotund stomach. The shirt was all he was wearing. If he'd had pants, they weren't anywhere in sight.
James stared transfixed. Not on Daryl, his presence was incidental. It was who was with him.
While Daryl was slumped on his couch, drinking a beer with satisfied grin, beneath him, were two women. One was Sarah, a woman who lived a couple houses down from James and Tara. She worked at the church day care on sundays. Was a regular at the PTA meetings and had become good friends with Tara in short order after they'd moved in. The other was Tara. And they were both worshipping Daryl's cock.
They were squatting down in front of him. Tara had her hair up in pigtails and was wearing an intricate lace eye mask. The yoga pants and shirt she'd left in were gone, replaced by the tiniest black plaid skit James had ever seen. It was barely six inches long and didn't cover a single inch of her ass. The purple thong he'd suspected her of wearing was pulled up tight between her cheeks, straining tightly and wedged between her labia. She was shaven clean and her skin was shining with a thin layer of oil.
Tara's breasts hung free under a sheer purple top that only went a couple of inches past her hard pink nipples. Her under boob was shining and dripping with slow rivers of oil, like she'd been drenched in it from the neck down. The skirt was cinched around her waist so tight, it made her stomach pudge out just a bit, an erotic muffin top.
Sarah was dressed almost identically, however her mask was green and her dark blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her skirt was the traditional red and black plaid, and her thong was an emerald green pulled just as tightly up between her cheeks and smooth labia. Along her lower back was a small Celtic Cross tattoo with an eye mask similar to the one she was wearing to cover her eyes.
With a soft sigh and burp, Daryl leaned his head back and grinned. The girls adjusted their positions and James finally caught a glimpse of Daryl's penis. It was huge. Long and girthy and shining with oil and spit as the girl trailed their tongues along the shaft, lips sucking and kissing lewdly and wet at the tip. Their asses jiggled as they moved, covering the entirety of the man's cock with their lips and tongues.
Even from this distance, and the window between them, James could hear Daryl's deep satisfied moans. He was experiencing every man's dream.
