Chapter One
Peggy looked up from her Monday morning coffee, directly into Donna's questioning eyes.
"Yeah, all right," she sighed, "I am bored. But so what? What should I do about it?"
Donna smiled at her.
"Depends on what you find boring," she answered sassily. "Is it because hubby's away too much?"
"Partly," Peggy answered grudgingly.
"And partly because when he is here, you're not gettin' enough, right?" Donna grinned.
Peggy blushed. She looked at Donna with a rueful smile of her own.
"Let's just say I'm a little frustrated with my life."
She found that she couldn't tell Donna why. Donna might have been her neighbor and friend, but Peggy was afraid that Donna would laugh.
At age 42, in the tenth year of a childless marriage, Peggy was often afraid that life was passing her by. Oh sure, Peter had a good job, with an income high enough that Peggy didn't have to work. But her life was so boring. And, as Donna had reminded her, sex wasn't part of the solution.
Peter seemed to enjoy it. Judging from his moans when he erupted inside of her, he seemed to do just fine. But he didn't care at all whether Peggy enjoyed it. And she didn't; simply spreading her legs for a few minutes once a week, as she'd been doing since they were first married, was not all that stimulating.
Peggy didn't think Donna would understand any of it. Although Donna had been a highly successful marketing consultant, she was "between jobs" now, as she liked to say. And she was in no hurry to get back to work, since she was also "between husbands," having just gotten a fat divorce settlement from her attorney husband. She seemed to be spending most of her time this summer lounging around the pool in her carefully landscaped backyard.
"What you need is a good lover," Donna said. Peggy blushed again. Easy enough for Donna. Her neighbor's blonde All-American looks were the envy of all of the other women in the neighborhood. And Donna's voluptuous body showed no signs of 36 years of use. Most of the neighborhood women would have sworn that the attractive divorcee was in her mid-twenties. As a result, Donna didn't lack for male companionship. On several occasions during the last few months, Peggy, waiting for Peter to come home from yet another late night at the office, had seen various cars parked in Donna's driveway. Once she'd caught herself looking wistfully at her neighbor's bedroom window.
Donna leaned forward conspiratorially.
"What's the weirdest place you've ever fucked?" she asked.
"Excuse me?" Peggy asked.
"You know," Donna said. "Ever done it on the subway? Or on a plane?"
"No," Peggy blurted out. How could she admit that the weirdest place was the bed she'd grown up in, the one with her stuffed animals on it? She remembered when she and her newly married husband had visited her parents for the first time, and he'd insisted that they make love while her parents were at church.
"Oh, I don't know," Peggy said breezily. "Nothing special. Probably an Amtrak sleeper."
"I did that," Donna smiled. "Isn't that great?"
"So was that your weirdest place?" Peggy asked.
"God, no," Donna said. "The weirdest was -- well, there was that time my boss and I did it behind a partition while there was a stockholder's meeting going on. Or the time Jim and I did it in an elevator on the way up to our hotel room while other people were getting on and off."
Peggy's eyes grew wide as Donna continued.
"But I'd have to say the weirdest was when I was, like, seventeen years old. This boy and I did it while I was sitting on a urinal in the boy's locker room in the middle of a basketball game."
"Gross," Peggy said.
"Yeah, I guess it was," Donna said, with a faraway look in her eyes, "but boy was he hung. Well, thanks again for the coffee. I'd better get back home."
"Busy day?" Peggy asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. Fortunately, Donna was oblivious.
"My older sister's son just graduated from high school," Donna said, "and I mentioned to my brother-in-law that I needed some yard work done this year. So Ken, my nephew, called me up and asked if he could earn a little extra money for college."
"Gee, you must pay pretty well," Peggy laughed.
"Oh, he doesn't need it for tuition," Donna explained. "He has a full athletic scholarship to Stanford. This is extra spending money."
"Wow," Peggy said. "He must be some athlete."
"I guess so," Donna said. "He's a swimmer. What with his schedule and mine, though, I actually haven't seen him for about four years now. He lives over in Centerville, but he's got his own truck, and he actually worked at a landscaping company last summer."
"Send him over here when you're done with him," Peggy said. "Peter's never home enough to work in the yard and I've got some plans for improving the place."
"I'll let him know," Donna agreed. "See 'ya, Peggy."
"Bye," Peggy said as she began to clean up. After she had finished her housework for the day in mid-afternoon, Peggy decided to take a shower. She quickly stripped off the sweat suit she'd put on when she'd gotten up, followed by her bra and panties. Before she reached the bathroom, though, she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the closet door. She playfully struck an exaggerated pose, standing with one leg in front of the other, her hands clasped behind her, and her shoulders thrown back.
Not too shabby, she thought. Her boobs were just as big as Donna's, and nice and firm. Her body curved in all the right places, inviting the eye's attention to the thick, dark triangle between her toned legs. And her face was still damned attractive. Shoulder length dark hair, brown eyes, pert nose, thick lips -- maybe she could catch one of Donna's castoffs. The two girls were exactly the same size, as Donna's continued borrowing of Peggy's best gowns demonstrated.
Suddenly the roar of a gasoline engine brought her out of her reverie. Peggy wheeled around, noticing for the first time that she'd forgotten to draw the shades before removing her clothes. Through the window, she could see a well-muscled youth cutting Donna's lawn with a riding mower. She quickly moved to the side of the window and pulled the shade down after one last look. She failed to notice the young man's eyes return to the same window, this time seeing only the white shade.
Peggy stayed in the shower a long time, letting the hot water cascade down her body. She found it relaxing, and soon found her thoughts straying to Donna's nephew. She had dated a swimmer a few times in college, and remembered his strong upper body muscles and trim waist. He had dumped after their second date for a top-heavy cheerleader who was known around campus to have gone down on most of her professors. Peggy found herself wondering what it would have been like to have her arms around that thin waist, her hands with nowhere to rest during sex except on top of his sculpted ass. She wondered if Donna's nephew -- Ken, was it? -- was built like that.
Her mind filled with a vivid image of his naked, young body just as she began to wash between her legs with her soap-covered washcloth.
"Oh!" she cried. Her carnal thoughts had primed her hair-trigger sexual response, and now the pressure of the washcloth against her swollen mound was making it fire.
"Oh, God," she moaned, slumping back against the stall as she lost her grip on the cloth. Her body began trembling. She bit her lip.
"Kenny!" she whispered, her mind filling once again with the image of her neighbor's young nephew. Too shocked and ashamed at what had happened to touch herself, Peggy simply squeezed her legs together. But that was enough.
"OH! OH! OH! OH!" she screamed, sinking to the floor as the water continued to pour off of her face and body. Her body shook with passion as her orgasm overcame her, stronger than she ever remembered feeling it during sex.
"OH, GOD, YES!" she shouted, her voice finally becoming little more than a guttural moan.
When she finally subsided, an embarassed Peggy hurriedly dried herself off and changed into jeans and a T-shirt. She was standing in her kitchen, contemplating dinner, when she heard a knock on the kitchen door. Her heart stopped as she opened the door to find Donna's nephew, wearing his shirt now, standing on her porch.
"Um, hi," she said nervously.
