Copyright 2008 by A. Wanker. All rights reserved.
It's not surprising that I didn't hear Stacy come in, for I was completely focused on the beautiful, round, back end of my neighbor, Kathy, who was face down on the bed with her pale white ass up in the air, fingering her clit while I drove my rock hard cock into her soaking wet pussy.
Each stroke produced a squeak from the bed, a grunt from me, and an "oh, yeah!" from her. Squeak, grunt, oh yeah! Squeak, grunt, oh yeah! I was on my knees, fucking her doggy-style, and staring intently at her milky white butt, as if in a trance, as I squeezed and massaged it with both hands. Her beautiful ass cheeks felt both soft and firm in my hands as I spread them slightly to get a good view of my glistening cock penetrating her tight pink twat, and an even better view of her wrinkled, pinkish brown asshole puckering just above it.
So the sound of Stacy's angry voice was so close and so startling that my heart skipped a beat.
"Eric! What the FUCK?" At the same instant I felt a cold, sharp steel blade against my neck.
It seemed like I jumped out of my skin, but in reality I don't think I moved at all. If I had, the knife might have done some damage.
"Goddamn it, Eric! What are you doing?"
I hadn't seen her because my back was to the door. How long might she have been there? Very slowly, I tilted my head to look at her.
She looked mad. She also looked ready for business, by which I mean she was nicely dressed for business in a white ruffled blouse, and a gray pleated skirt with a big belt buckle. Her blond hair was pulled back in a bun. Her small silver earrings sparkled against her tanned skin. Her blouse was open just enough to show a hint of cleavage, and a short silver necklace I had just given her for her 31st birthday. She looked elegant, and dangerous.
The sharp blade she held against my jugular only accentuated her beauty. She looked like a modern warrior princess. I felt a sudden wave of regret at what I was doing. I loved her madly. Why in the world did I let her catch me fucking another woman? More to the point, why was I fucking another woman in the first place? How stupid could I be? I was scared to death of what might happen next.
I started to sputter "Stacy, I didn't expect you home yet". Mercifully, she saved me from uttering such banal words. I only got as far as "Stacy I...", before she interrupted.
Her voice was harsh as she pressed the knife a little more firmly into my skin: "Never mind - I can see exactly what you're doing". And well she could. It was obvious that what I was doing was screwing our 21 year old neighbor, doggy style, in our marital bed, and enjoying it immensely up until now.
For a second I thought I might take the knife away from her, but wasn't sure that would be the best approach. I held still and waited for whatever would come next.
I thought for a second she might start to cry, but after a brief pause, she spoke softly. "Kathy, why is my husband fucking you?"
"Cuz I begged him to?" She said it like a question, as people do these days, even if it's a statement.
Stacy glared at me with eyes of steel. I felt myself shrug. I imagine I had a "hey what can I say?" kind of expression on my face, and a guilty half-smile.
"How long has this been going on?"
"About ten minutes", I replied.
She shook the knife about two inches from my nose, causing me to lean back a little. But even though my erection was softening, I was still up to the hilt in Kathy's cunt.
"Not THIS fucking time", she seethed. "You know what I mean. Don't fuck with me!" I wasn't used to hearing Stacy use the F-word so much. Normally she wasn't much given to swearing.
"Really!" I insisted. "This is the first time."
"You mean the first time with this slut."
"No", I said, "with any slut."
"Hey!" Kathy interjected. I had almost forgotten about her for a moment, even though my dick was still firmly ensconced in her twat.
"Shut up, bitch!" Stacy growled, as she put her left hand on the back of Kathy's head and pushed her face roughly down into the mattress. The big carving knife was now at Kathy's throat. Stacy was like some sort of avenging angel, come to meet out justice with a sacred sword of marital fidelity. Kathy shifted her weight like she was trying to escape the pressure Stacy was putting on her head, but I tightened my grip on her ass to hold her still.
I did that partly because I feared what might happen if Kathy tried to get up, but also because I could feel my dick inexplicably starting to get hard again. God only knows how I could have a raging hard-on at a time like this, but I preferred for the moment to keep it concealed. In any case, my strong grip and stiffening cock apparently persuaded Kathy to stay put.
"So you want me to believe that in eight years of marriage you never once cheated on me, and it just happens that the first and only time you try it, I just happen to walk in and catch you at it? You expect me to believe that?"
"Yes, I do - because it's true".
I wasn't lying. My transgressions had begun only a few hours earlier, while I was fetching the mail out of our mailbox at the end of the driveway. Kathy came out her front door and into her front yard, yelling into her cell phone. She ended an obscenity-laced conversation with a loud "no, fuck you" and hung up.
She was well within speaking distance, so I felt it would be rude to walk away without saying something. But I hadn't gotten to know her very well, in the year or so since she moved in next door with some other college-aged girls.
"Hi Kathy, how's it going?" was the best I could come up with. She scowled and gave me the finger.
"Sorry," I said. "I never know what to say". She just stared at me.
"Well, then, is there anything I can do to help?"
She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. She glared at me for a moment, then blurted out a long string of cuss words, some of which I don't think I had ever heard before. When understandable words came out they came in a torrent.
"What is it about men? Fucking goddamned men! You fuckin' say you want sex ... fuckin' want it every fuckin' day, or twice a day, or all day long. But you really don't. For a week or two, OK, but then you get tired or something. Your goddamn dicks get tired. You're all talk and no action. In the end I always have to beg for it. It's humiliating."
"That jerk called me a nympho, like they always do. Why do they always call me a nympho, like that's a friggin' goddamned insult? And then they fuckin' call me a slut. Nobody ever calls a guy a nympho, or a slut. Bastards! Where's the man who can match up to his fuckin' bravado? Huh? Tell me that?"
As she stood there shaking her fist at me, I wasn't sure if she really expected an answer or had just run out of breath.
I started to laugh. I couldn't help it. "Not me, I'm sure", I said, trying to stifle a laugh. I certainly wasn't going to engage in any sort of bravado after that diatribe.
I smiled at her dumbly as we stood staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity. I observed that she was wearing a pair of unraveling denim shorts, a vintage tee shirt that said "KISS" and "Detroit Rock City" on it, and pink flip-flops. I had noticed before, of course, that she was young and very pretty. She had long dark curly hair and very pale skin, mysterious squinty eyes, pouty lips, and perky little tits. I hadn't really noticed the tits so much before. Today they were poking against her tee shirt like they wanted desperately to be free. Her nipples were clearly evident beneath the fabric.
But in spite of her attractiveness, I had never thought about her in a sexual way. Seriously! I was still totally in love with Stacy and had no interest in anyone else.
She put her hands on her hips and walked up to me with purposeful strides, and stopped like a marine drill sergeant with her nose right in front of mine, except she's about six inches shorter than I am, so her face, and its little nose, were turned up at me as I looked down into her dark squinty mysterious eyes.
"Is that all you are going to say?" she asked. "No words to defend your miserable kind?" Her soft, pink lips looked very kissable as she spoke with her pretty face turned up at me.
"No" I said.
She poked her finger into my chest with a "humph", and then spun around on her heel, losing a flip flop. She kicked the other one off into the yard with it, and stomped off barefoot into her house. As she departed across the lawn I watched her tight little butt wagging above her perfectly shaped legs. It's surprising how a man's mind can change gears, and start to go in an entirely different direction than it had been inclined to go, with just a little provocation. By which I mean to say, I could feel myself getting a stiffy.
I went back in the house and opened the mail, made myself a cup of coffee, and was just getting ready to turn on the ballgame. I had forgotten about Kathy, when I heard her "hello", accompanied by a knock at the screen door. I looked up to see her peering in at me through the screen, silhouetted by the bright sunlight. She was backlit like a Hollywood movie star; the effect made her long dark hair seem to glow.
"Hello", I said.
She opened the door and strolled in, even though I hadn't invited her and she had never been in the house before. She gazed around the room as I gazed at her.
She had on the same fraying shorts, but the tee shirt had been replaced by one that said Suicide Girls, and the flip-flops had been replaced by a pair of high-heel summer sandals - the kind that tie around the ankles, Roman style. Something about them just made her look even more smokin' hot than she did in flip flops. What is it about shoes like that on a woman?
"It's laid out just like my house!" she remarked.
"Not surprising, since it looks just like your house on the outside", I observed.
"Except for the color," she said.
"Yes, they are different colors," I agreed.
She sat down on the sofa and put her feet up on the glass coffee table. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a joint. "Got a light?" she asked?
"No," I said.
She got up and went to the kitchen. I didn't follow. I heard the electric starter on the gas stove click-clicking. When she came back, she plunked herself back down on the sofa and took a long drag before offering me the joint. I shook my head.
