My wife and I decided early in our marriage not to have children. We felt as though it might put the damper on our sexual relationship, and that was very important to us. Besides, neither of us had a burning desire to be parents…so it didn't seem like a real loss.
Well, seventeen years after getting married, some things are still true. We don't have the desire to be parents. Unfortunately, we're also missing another kind of desire. Sexual desire. Between our respective careers and the natural turn of events that befall a relationship, we've come to engage in intimacy with tremendous infrequency. Sadly, neither of us is all that alarmed by the fact. I'm 39, she's 37 and it doesn't matter very much.
I suspect that she has had one affair, but I can't prove it. Not sure what I would so if I could. I've had two brief flings - nothing worth mentioning, and masturbate when the mood strikes me. Mostly, I'm sexually inactive. And it wasn't until earlier this summer that things changed. Changed dramatically.
Although we could have moved from our original house, the need never seemed so great. We were comfortable with the neighbors and chose to improve our existing house rather than buy a new one. Most of our other neighbors felt the same way and this led to a rather social little street. Every summer started with a block party, and ended the same way.
This year was no different and on Memorial Day, the potluck arrangements were made, BBQs fired up and pools cleaned to accommodate the event. As my wife and I are one of only three houses on the block that has a pool, our spot is particularly active. We don't mind, figure it's our duty to the neighborhood.
I spent the early part of the day at the BBQ. I cooked hamburgers, hot dogs, chicken, shrimp and fish - you name it. By the time the mid-afternoon sun beat down, I was ready for a dip in the pool. Four beers also presented an urgent need to piss. As the opportunity presented itself, I handed off the tongs and spatula and made my way inside to our bedroom.
The one thing that I didn't particularly like about this event finding its way into our backyard was the fact that our house became the spot for people to change into suits, change back into clothes and use the facilities. Granted, it was a minor irritation, but an irritation nevertheless. After a year or two we learned our lesson. We opened up the guest bathroom and bedroom for the neighbors, but kept ours closed and off limits…supposedly.
At least that is what I believed as I skipped inside and made my way to the bathroom adjoining our master bedroom. But before I got half a dozen steps into the bedroom, I froze with a completely unexpected sight: a young woman in bikini bottoms, preparing to strap on her bikini top, but at the moment, fully nude from the waist up.
There was a full second that passed as I tried to process what I was seeing and then…who I was seeing. My brain finally told me that it was Corinne Mitchell, the daughter of our next door neighbors.
"I'm sorry," I blurted, as I turned and left the room.
"That's okay, Mr. Breen," she called after me, clearly stilled as surprised as I.
"My mistake, Corinne, I didn't think anyone was using our bedroom to change." I didn't hear anything for a second. Finally, Corinne came out of the room:
"I didn't know we weren't supposed to, somebody else was using the other room."
"Well, we just try to direct the traffic to the other end of the house as a habit. No big deal."
She was wearing the entire bikini now - needless to say - and I found myself thinking about what I'd seen just moments ago. Now, I should give you some important facts that will help to understand the moment. For instance, Corinne. She had just finished high school at that time. If you had proposed the idea of Corinne in a bikini prior to that encounter, I would have given it little or no thought - she's not a real beautiful girl, a little on the plump side actually. She takes after her mother who isn't attractive either and who has gained a great deal of weight in the last few years.
I guess I would say that Corinne is chubby, but not fat. In recent months I had only seen her on her way to and from her job - bagging groceries at the local market. She would wear a red polo shirt and khakis that didn't do a thing for her, but made it clear that she wasn't going to be a lingerie model anytime soon. Her face wasn't unattractive, but it wasn't really all the pretty either - or so I had thought. She had dirty blonde hair and green eyes - and freckles (they covered a good portion of her face).
Perhaps it was the unexpected nature of seeing Corinne topless in my bedroom, maybe it wiped away the prejudice regarding her looks and allowed me to see her fresh. I don't know. What I do know is that I found myself examining her as we stood talking in the hallway outside my bedroom where the new view had occurred. I was also flashing back in my mind to the breasts that I had just seen. They were large - probably 'D' cup (maybe even 'DD').
Now, I never considered myself a breast man - my wife is 'B' cup and I was always happy with that. But something about those large breasts was suddenly very appealing. I had a feeling that I had seen pinkish nipples - but made room for the fact that my memory was faulty. I do know that they were large nipples (something else I'm not accustomed to).
I was noticing other things for the first time. Her eyes, for instance, were beautiful. Bright green and soft. Simply lovely. She also had the straightest teeth I had seen in a long time, maybe ever.
I allowed myself one glance over her body - timed when she was looking elsewhere - and it confirmed that she was a little chubby. But certainly not fat. She had arms and legs that were smooth, but slightly rounded. No cellulite. Her stomach, while a little rounded, was not large. Her bottom - as much of it as I could see from my vantage point - was nicely plump.
And I was excited by this.
I've never been one to idealize women that are overweight…and I still don't. But there was something suddenly very sexy about this young woman with accentuated curves.
"At any rate," I said to her as I began to return to my bedroom, "I'll know to knock next time."
"Okay. Sorry, if I scared you, Mr. Breen." With that, she flashed me a smile and bounded out to the pool.
Once I 'd changed into my trunks and returned to the backyard, I had decided that I needed to control my libido. She was barely eighteen and the daughter of long time neighbors. Despite the fact that I had felt a very real surge at the experience, there were certain realities. I had to remember the realities.
Of course, as I made a point of not looking in her direction, she seemed to be everywhere I looked. I even bumped into her once while talking to another neighbor and turning to retrieve my beer.
"Sorry, Mr. Breen," she said, still dripping with pool water. It was then that I noticed her freckled shoulders and chest. She smiled at me again as she moved past and got a coke from the cooler beside me. Without realizing it, I glanced down at her barefeet and spotted toe rings - one on each second toe. For some reason I found that to be one of the sexiest things I had ever seen. I needed to sit down.
But sitting down wasn't any better. The only available chair was directly in front of the spot that Corinne had chosen to spread out on her stomach and get some sun. The material in her bikini bottom had crept up between the crack in her sweet bottom, and she wasn't in any hurry to fix it. I was nervously approaching an erection.
Desperate measures. I invited another neighbor inside for a couple games of pool. That solved the problem of the moment, but how long could I put off the return to my backyard? As it turned out, for the rest of the evening. The men of the neighborhood slowly made their way into our game room, and the playing continued in earnest for the remainder of the party. I kept my mind occupied enough by the games to prevent anymore close calls with erections, but I did devote some of my thought to the questions of whether it would be better to jerk off that evening and relieve some of the stress, or try to keep from perpetuating the whole thing in any way.
It was ten o'clock when my wife reported to me that she had cleaned up as much as she intended to tonight and made her way into our bedroom to go to sleep. I told her that I'd be in later on and set to cleaning up the kitchen. It was only a few minutes later that I heard a light rapping on the front door.
I don't know what I thought initially as I opened the door and found Corinne standing there. I'm sure that part of me rejoiced and took in the sight before me, but I'm just as certain that I was alarmed at the prospect of this whole thing going on any longer.
"Hi. I left my bathing suit here. In your bathroom."
"Oh, well, Corinne, could it wait until tomorrow? My wife just went in there to go to sleep."
"No, the other bathroom. The one I was supposed to use. When I changed out of my suit, I used that one instead."
"Oh, sure." I said, letting her in. She was in a pair of cut-off sweats and a white t-shirt. I made a point of looking away whenever I could.
"Thanks," she said, sliding by me on her way to the bathroom. She returned in seconds, the suit wrapped in her towel.
"Mr. Breen?" she said, obviously preparing to ask me something that would require some kind of judgment on my part.
"Yes?" I really felt my stomach going into knots. What was she going to ask me?
"Would it be okay if…"
"If what?" I asked, feeling the dread build up.
"…if I had a beer?" I was relieved. But more disappointed. She seemed to have forgotten about the entire incident. Did she think of me as an old man? True, I am 39, and that's more than twenty years older than her, but did I seem that old? I'm a relatively nice looking man - brown hair and eyes, moderately athletic build (underscore moderately).
"Well, Corinne, I really can't. Your father would probably kill me."
"He let me have one at our house last year," she said.
"That's his call. It's also illegal."
"Please?" She smiled at me. I found it impossible to say no.
