Somewhere a New Life Awaits

"Well, looky there," Mel says.

It's a little past 10AM on a beautiful Saturday morning in late June. My wife is on top of me riding my hard cock for the first time in over a month and, apparently, looking out the damn bedroom window while she's doing it. She pauses, so I prop myself up on my elbows and look across the street. "Must be the new neighbors," I say as I watch a 30-something man and woman get out of their pickup across the street. No kids, I notice. "Can we introduce ourselves later?" I said, feeling slightly frustrated. "Now keep giving me that hot cunt, baby." She put her big tits in my face and her wet snatch was again sliding up and down on my cock as any thoughts of the neighbors disappeared into a rush of orgasmic fucking bliss (at least for me, anyway).

We watched our new neighbors move in over the next two days from the comfort of our front porch swing. The woman, who my wife Melissa spoke to briefly, is named Sherry and is looking pretty damn good working in Daisy Dukes and tank tops, even from across the street. She has blonde hair, a great figure, gorgeous legs (my weakness) and a nice tan. Seems friendly and outgoing, though she's talked only to Mel. Her husband (I assume) reminds me of a well-groomed Neanderthal. He's about the same height as his lovely wife, very stocky with a buzz cut and, from a distance, he appears to be covered in tattoos and piercings. I'm thinking he and I will have nothing in common and likely won't be doing the friendly neighbor cookout scene together. I know I shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but my doubts about our friend potential were confirmed on Day 4 when he rode his big Harley-Davidson home and parked it in his garage. That damn thing will wake the dead, I believe, and there's no doubt that we'll have to hear it come and go at all hours. I've always heard that women love bikers. Must be true. How would an ugly brute like him get a hot little number like Sherry otherwise?

Mel and I are in our 40s. I'm 47 and a retired electrician. I'm slightly over 6 feet tall and 185 pounds. Woman have found me attractive most of my life (not to brag). I play golf for fun and ride a mountain bike to try to stay fit and I still have most of my hair and all my teeth. Mel is 44 and works part-time at her friend's diner in town and doesn't give a damn about outdoor fun or exercise. She's 5'2" and 150 pounds with a nice ass and big tits, which she complains about constantly. Being a guy, I think a little back pain would be worth having very attractive cleavage, but what do I know. Her long brown hair extends down her back almost to her ass and is naturally thick and curly. She has big brown eyes that now require corrective lenses, but I think the glasses make her look hot. She disagrees. She really can be sexy when she wants to be - she just never wants to be. I would describe our sex life as normally boring and frequently mechanical - Mel sees nothing wrong with it and refuses to try anything new or even talk about. Adult discussions between a man and his wife are not something Mel sees any value in. I'm not a sex maniac type of guy, mind you, but I do like to get fucked more than Mel is willing to fuck me, and that's been true for the majority of our marriage. I've resorted over the years to internet porn and motion-lotion workouts with my girlfriend Palma Fingers while Mel is waiting tables at the diner. Absolutely fucking sad, I know. Feel sorry for me if you'd like.

How am I retired at 47, you ask (or even if you didn't)? Well, I had a very forward-thinking businessman father who, in 1960, 12 years before his only child (me) was born, bought a very large plot of land outside of town that nobody thought was worth a nickel. He left it to me in his will, and as sometimes happens, in 2013, that 120 acres was appraised at and sold for 48 million nickels (20Gs an acre) and just like that Home Depot had their first land purchase for a new store location and I was officially retired. Today, the store sits nicely as the anchor of a fairly nice strip mall and it's attracted to the area the normal variety of fast food restaurants and gas stations. Mel doesn't need to work, of course, but she helps her friend, Nancy, in her diner with the breakfast and lunch crowds Monday through Friday to have something to do (and truth be known, to get away from me for a few hours each day).

A few weeks after moving in, Sherry finally says something to me. I'm standing out by the street looking through my mail when she walks out to her mailbox.

"Howdy neighbor! I'm Sherry Dawson! You must be Cal, right? Melissa mentioned your name."

I'm looking at her and I can't take my eyes off the cleavage she's displaying with her tightly fitting, low cut tank top. I'm a dog, I know, but she's putting it out there. Sherry looks to be about 5'5" tall and probably weighs 120 lbs. soaking wet. Her shoulder length blonde hair looks shiny and healthy even in the ponytail she has it in. Her breasts are large for her size, but do not look store-bought. Her teeth are as straight and white as any I've ever seen, and I always, always, always notice a woman's teeth. If a woman won't take care of her mouth, she won't take care of anything else either (guys, too, by the way). "Nice to meet you, Sherry Dawson," I said. "How are you liking your new house?"

"Liking it so far, but there's a lot to do, still," she said. "I'm getting things situated, but it's slow going. Doug isn't much help after the boxes and furniture are inside the house." She laughs at her admission and tosses her blond ponytail. I notice her brilliant blue eyes and her very sexy mouth that seems to pout, even when she's smiling. She reminds me of a young Goldie Hawn. I was totally mesmerized.

"I'm guessing Doug is your husband?" Are all cavemen named Doug, I wondered.

"Boyfriend. Don't imagine you've met. He's not the most outgoing guy around, for sure." She's trying to make eye contact with me, but my eyes are on her chest and I just can't move them up. She smiles at me. "So, Cal, you lived here long?"

"We've been in this house for 16 years now, so we've seen a few neighbors come and go. We still love this old place in the suburbs and this old neighborhood, even though the urban sprawl seems to be creeping closer and closer every year. So, where did you and your husband live before?"

"Syracuse, New York for the last 9 years. Doug's a long haul truck driver. Believe it or not, we actually met at a truck stop in Greensboro, where I was working. I was born and raised in Greensboro. We saw each other every time he was in town and liked spending time together, so I quit my dead end job and moved to New York to be with him. I'm really liking being back in small town North Carolina, though."

"Columbus really is a nice place to live." We're talking, but I'm having a hard time concentrating on our conversation because there's just so much good stuff to draw my attention. "So Doug got transferred here?" I asked.

"Well, no, not exactly. He got laid off at the company he was driving for and decided to buy his own truck and be his own boss. We moved here because his younger brother and his family moved here 3 years ago and love it. His brother has a small horse farm over in Landrum, South Carolina." (Landrum is a small town right over the state line.)

"Will he be parking his truck on the street here?" I ask. Their driveway is much too small for a truck that size and, again, I'm wondering how much noise this dude will be making coming and going.

"No," she said. "His brother told him he could park the truck at his place since he has so much room. Doug likes to work, so I doubt the dang thing will be parked anywhere for very long."

She turned and finally opened her mailbox, saying she was glad that they were finally getting their mail here. I got a better look at her fine ass wrapped tightly in her short shorts and her legs were to die for. "It's really good to meet you, Cal. Don't be like my boyfriend - say hello once in a while!"

"Well, thank you," I said. "It's not often I get to meet a beautiful and sexy neighbor, so I'll be saying hello a lot."

She blushed and smiled. "Well, thank you back". She started to walk away, but stopped. "So Cal, what do you do for fun here in exotic Columbus?"

"Well Sherry Dawson, there is all kinds of fun to be had around here. You'll see," I said playfully.

She smiled at me and I believe she glanced down at the slight bulge in my shorts. "Maybe when I get to know you better, I'll fill you in on what I think is fun. Right now, I can tell you that I love to jog when it's not so hot. I like to play tennis and ride a bicycle, too. I love gardening and being outside. You'll see me outside a lot."

With that, she turned and walked back to her house, leaving me with several obvious questions and a woody. I liked this sexy girl already.

I told Mel that I had met Sherry and I suggested she might want to drop by and see if she could help with the unpacking. Caveman Doug didn't seem to be home much since they moved in, and I suppose that's to be expected of a long haul truck driver. Mel went over the next afternoon and spent a couple of hours with Sherry emptying boxes and hanging pictures and making the place homey. When she returned, she mentioned to me that they had an electrical problem in their kitchen and suggested I offer my services. Sherry told her that Doug is not very handy around the house. Big surprise there - he's a fuckin' caveman.

The next day, after the mail was delivered, I waited for Sherry to venture out to her mailbox. I met her there when she finally came out and I offered to have a look at her electrical issue. She smiled sweetly at me and invited me over. The problem turned out to be a broken light socket, which even a grunt like Doug could have fixed if he stayed home long enough to do anything. She waited as I drove over to my favorite Home Depot and bought the new socket. Afterwards, we sat in her kitchen and had a cold beer together.

"How come you never go to work?" she asked. I explained to her that I was retired and that Mel works part time just to have something to keep her busy.

"You and Mel seem like a nicely matched couple," she said. "How long have you two been married?"

"Twenty years last month," I replied. "Met her at a strip club, if you can believe that." Sherry's eyes got bigger. I laughed and elaborated. "I tell people that because I know they'll immediately think Mel was a stripper at one time, but the night we met she was actually there with some girlfriends for a Bachelorette party. Male strippers were in town. I bought her a few beers and we hit it off. She let me drive her home that night, and we've been together ever since."

Sherry giggled. "So, you like to hang out at clubs watching male strippers, then, Cal?"

I laughed at her teasing. "That's not how I roll, pretty lady, but I've always liked hanging out where there are beautiful women who are interested in men getting undressed. And the place had the coldest beer in town, too, I should mention."

"I bet that made all the difference then, huh?" Her eyes were laughing at me and I felt an attraction developing quickly. I've never once fooled around on my wife, and never would, but this girl had me thinking things I should not have been thinking. I nursed that beer as long as I could.

Two weeks later, our sleep was interrupted at 1 o'clock in the morning with flashing red and blue lights from two police cars parked on the street in front of the Dawson house. Mel and I heard shouting and watched as the cops separated and talked to Sherry and Doug individually in their front yard. After about 20 minutes of this, Sherry went back into her house and Doug hopped on his Harley and loudly left the neighborhood. The cops left shortly after. Mel and I eventually went back to sleep and hoped this wasn't going to be a regular thing.

The next morning, I noticed Sherry outside on her front steps with a cup of coffee. Mel had left a little earlier for her job at the diner, so I walked over to see if Sherry was alright. As I approached, I could see a smile appear on her face and she extended her arm so I could help her to her feet.

"Nice to see you this morning, Cal," she said as she gave me a hug. "I'm sorry about all the ruckus last night. Doug got into the Jack Daniels and got all pissy thinking about the past. He always gets a little nasty when he drinks too much."

"Don't worry about us, Sherry. We were just concerned that it might have gotten violent. Did he hurt you?"

"Well, no, not last night, but he has before. In Syracuse, he'd get drunk and start accusing me of fucking every guy at my job. Sometimes I can calm him down, but sometimes, like last night, his anger boils over and somebody within earshot calls the cops on us. The city cops knew our names well in Syracuse. And I don't know why I'm even telling you this." She cast her eyes down with a look of embarrassment. "It wasn't you who called the cops, was it Cal?"

I pulled her to me for a hug. "We're friends, aren't we? I wouldn't call the cops on you, but I'd hate to see you in any type of danger, Sherry. If you need anything at all, let me know. If you need a safe place to escape to, just walk across the street. Okay?" She nodded her head and hugged me back. She offered me a cup of coffee and we sat and talked on her front porch for an hour or so.

The following week, my world exploded.

I jumped on the riding mower early Friday morning, wanting to get the grass cut before it got too hot. Sherry had the same idea, I guess, and was pushing a mower around her front yard with those short shorts over what appeared to be a bathing suit. Her breasts were straining against the small bikini top and I could just imagine her sweat running down between those gorgeous mounds as she worked. I almost wrecked my damn mower several times looking at the sexy scenery across the street. Watching her got me all hard and horny and Mel and I had not had sex since the day our new neighbors arrived almost 5 weeks prior. So, I had an idea. I got the grass cut as quickly as I could and took a shower. I threw a change of clothes for Mel and myself into an over-night bag, along with a few toiletries and some lube, and hopped in the truck to go see Mel at the diner. I thought I'd hang around until she got off, then take her to a nice hotel in Asheville where we could fuck the afternoon away. We could have a nice steak dinner later and then go back and fuck the night away too. She used to love to do that when we were dating and we have not done it in a long time. Great surprise, I thought!

I parked the truck in front of the diner, noticing that the breakfast crowd had already come and gone. I walked to the front entrance, but the doors were locked. What the hell? The diner isn't normally closed at this time of day. I tried looking through the windows and couldn't see anyone in the dining area at all. I walked to the side of the building to make sure my wife's car was parked where she always parks it, and it was. Nancy's car was also there and there was another parked car that I didn't recognize. Serious concerns starting running through my head. Is everything okay? Has there been a crime? Why would they lock the doors? I thought about getting my .38 out of the glove compartment of my truck.

Instead, I circled around the building and checked the rear door. It was unlocked, so I slowly walked in, trying to be as quiet as possible in case there was something serious or dangerous going on. I immediately heard sounds that no one would think had anything to do with the fucking restaurant business, moans and grunts that probably didn't mix well at all with scrambled eggs or biscuits and gravy. I peeked around the corner and looked into the kitchen area. There, on a wide aluminum prep table was my wife, blouse wide open and naked from the waist down with her legs spread wide. A large black man I'd never seen before, also naked from the waist down and his bald head dripping with sweat, was standing between her legs and pounding his hard cock in and out of my wife's pussy. She was moaning like I hadn't heard her moan in years. Nancy was also on the table, leaned over the two of them on her knees, taking the large black cock into her mouth between strokes and rubbing my wife's clit as she fucked. If Nancy had looked up, she would have easily seen me. I continued watching as the big man pounded my wife like a stallion, his cock hard and shiny and her hot cunt making squishy sounds with her wetness. I don't know why, but I actually looked down and noticed that the prep table was bolted to the floor - otherwise if would be slamming up against the far wall with the power of this man's strokes. The man started telling my wife he was going to "bust his nut" in her. "Do it Marcus! Do it!" she cried. He slammed his huge cock into her over and over again as he filled her with his hot load. Sweat glistened on his head and neck and he roared like a beast as he came. He finally backed away, and to my utter amazement, Nancy was suddenly between my wife's legs, eating her soaked and used pussy for all it was worth. My wife kept saying "Oh my God, oh my God" as I quietly departed through the same door I entered through.

As I drove home, I remembered Mel telling me of a new cook Nancy hired back in March or April. She didn't say his name or mention that he was black, but I'm sure it was he who was doing the "cooking" in the kitchen just then. I never thought my wife would cheat. I never knew her to lust after black men, either. She's never complained about the size of my cock, but it is nothing like the one she just got fucked with. I drove home in shock, really, but knew deep down that my life had just went to shit. I cried like a baby once I got home.

That night at home, Mel was her usual self - attentive to me, but intentionally non-sexual. I didn't confront her about what I saw. I just sat there in front of the TV with a beer and thought about the last 5 or 6 months. Was there a change in Mel that I should have noticed? How long has she been fucking Marcus in the kitchen? Was she so damn bored with our sex life that she felt like she had to fuck around? Was Marcus her only lover? What was Nancy's role in the whole thing? After pondering for a while, I finally decided that I didn't really give a damn. What's done is done. My options were now open, and I considered that to be the only bright spot in the whole shitty situation.

Mel doesn't work at the diner on Saturdays. In the very infrequent times she wants to fuck me, it's usually on Saturday mornings right after we have our coffee. The Saturday following my discovery, she sat across from me in the kitchen and asked if I wanted to fool around. I think she sensed a disturbing change in me that morning and she thought sex would put things back to normal between us. She had just fucked the cook at the diner less than 24 hours ago, so I knew she wasn't all hot and horny for me. After letting her question hang in the air for a minute or two, I told her I had some errands to run. The look on her face was part shocked confusion, part pissed off wife. "You could run your errands after," she said to my back as I walked away. I had never said no before, and this time I would not have said yes if my life depended on it.

My errand that day, of course, was to go to the diner and talk to Nancy. We've been dear friends for a very long time, and I remember her seeking me out to talk right after her husband, Jack, died with cancer. That was 2 years ago. I was there for her then, so I felt like I should be able to talk to her about this. I waited until I knew the Saturday morning breakfast crowd would be finished and Nancy would be available to chat. As I got there, once again I noticed that the parking lot was empty. The front door was also locked. Oddly, the "Open" neon sign in the window was still on and flashing. I knocked on the front entrance. Looking through the glass door, I saw Nancy come around the counter from the back. She saw me and smiled as she unlocked the door.