Valerie Gives Our Neighbor A Hand

Wife's handjob for sex starved neighbor

My wife Valerie and I have many shared sexual experiences. She told me about something that happened to her privately, in our home, a few years ago.

I was gone for the weekend with a fishing buddy up to northern California. Val was just puttering about doing house chores when Mike showed up at the door. Mike was a casual friend. A really nice guy. He and his wife, Jackie, were in our circle and we saw them at backyard parties, holiday gatherings and such. They were a few years older than us. Friendly, but not close.

Here is her story.

"Hey, Mike, what's up?"

Mike was at our screen door. and was asking for you.

I was a little surprised at Mike saying he wanted to talk to you about "something personal". I had no problem asking him into the house as I really wanted some detail.

"Tom is gone fishing and won't be back until Sunday. I've got some ice tea, would you like some? Maybe I can help?"

"That would be so nice. I just wanted out of the house for a bit because Jackie and I are a little cool at the moment. Nothing huge, but we've had some issues building. I thought Tom might have some thoughts for me. I know you two have a very special relationship. Everyone sees it."

Val: "That flatters me, Mike, that people notice our relationship. It is true, I suppose, we are a couple of lovebirds."

I took Mike out to the living room and we sat to a relaxed conversation. I was dressed in my daily around-the-house attire, California style. This time it was a pair of fairly short but loose shorts and a light yellow tank top that showed my areolas if you looked closely enough. Mike was certainly looking close enough.

I really don't mind this sort of thing as I love sex and I love to tease with my outfits but for this particular Saturday morning sit down with a neighbor it did occur to me that I was showing off more than was appropriate. He's a good guy, though, so I felt safe enough.

Mike wanted to talk. Tom wasn't there but he had my ear so he just began with something like "Jackie and I are having some bedroom problems."

Not an exact quote but something like that. Of course, that's all you need to know when a guy starts with "bedroom problems". As a female I had to walk a narrow pathway here. I am not a sex counselor nor am I an expert in relationships. You know I'm just a good listener.

He was surprisingly straight forward. While she used to be into it Jackie had cooled off sexually. She wasn't very willing to spice things up and there had long droughts between intercourse. I was getting what was really intended for you, Tom, but Mike just opened up with his sex problems.

I don't know how you would have handled this. Do men discuss this stuff? I never thought so. And I don't think I'm an expert on other peoples sex lives. I know I've got a great one but I also know it is very unique. Very unique. Not applicable to other couples.

"I know you wanted Tom's advise on this, Mike but I'm not sure what

I

can offer you. Do you have any questions that maybe I can answer from a female point of view?"

"Look, Val, I'm just frustrated. I don't see a happy future if my wife keeps going in this direction. I guess I was looking for a magic solution, an idea. Maybe just empathy. Am I to be 'poor ol' Mike', stuck with his hand for the rest of his life?"

Then there was long silence between us, and it was a little uncomfortable. Crap, he started to cry, though more like a tear-up, really. He was so emotional about possibly losing his sex life. I felt awful because I had no answers for him. I was wishing for you, Tommy. I didn't need to be there for this.

So I tried to help. "Mike, are you two still in love? Is it just the physical thing that is missing now? Has your wife told you anything about the changes?"

He told me that she just doesn't seem as interested in sex as before and he is afraid to push it. He keeps waiting for this to blow over. Meanwhile, the problem builds.

We went on and on, way too long, coming up on two hours. I shouldn't be in this position but I finally get bold and pushed some questions.

"Are you struck in a rut, Mike? Do you do different things in bed. Are you playful? Is she just bored?"

God, I even asked if he showered enough. This was awful.

Then I got more personal.

"Do you go down on her? That lights the fire with some women. Do you know how to please a woman down there? Do you ever role play? Do you know her fantasies? Shit man, there is some reason why she's losing interest. Do you ever read any erotic writings? Would your wife? Do you have a porn habit that turns her off?"

He was starting to look a little pathetic at this point as he had no answers but at the same time he was so sincere that I was taking pity on him. I reached out to him, touching his shoulder. We hugged but I felt a little primal spark from my overactive libido.

It was a warm hug, but more. It was a man-woman hug that lingered and felt sexual. My breasts in that thin yellow tee were plastered to his chest. I was concerned something might happen that wasn't supposed to happen.

Another long silence, almost a stare down as we looked at each other for direction. Then I spoke up, "Look, Mike. I'm not going to solve your problems with your wife but this morning's talk about sex has got me more than a little stirred up."

I pointed to the tent in his pants, "I've noticed you are a little aroused, too. Is that from thinking about my tits that you keep staring at? You like my breasts, Mike?"

"Look... I'm going to shock you. I'm going to give you a gift. A gift from a woman to a man. I'll be right back."

I went to the bath and returned with a box of tissue and some lotion.

"Take off your pants, Mike. I'm going to give you a hand job. It's not a mercy fuck but you can pretend you're getting laid and maybe it can send some sexual energy into your own bedroom."

Can you believe this, Tommy? It was a combination of sympathy and my own lust. I thought I could help him out with some fantasy material and, you know me, I like grabbing a strange cock now and again.

Mike was on the couch with his kinda stubby cock straight up and an "I can't believe this is happening" look on his face. I sat beside him, lathered up my hands and slid both on his prick. After a few long strokes I realized this guy was going to cum quickly. I stopped for a moment and pulled off my shirt.

"You can look at them now, Mike, but don't touch. I just don't want to get any of your stuff on my T-shirt and on top of that it adds to the sexy mood, don't ya' think?"

I gave him a classic hand job taking ol' Mike off in less than 5 minutes. He squirted a couple of globs onto his stomach then oozed quite a large amount down onto my hand. It was my left hand and I took notice of the fact it was running down over my wedding ring.

Nasty? Yeah, you might think. Then I went even nastier and licked my fingers very deliberately, seductively, while looking straight at him. What a slut I can be.

This will get you, Tommy. I took it much further at this point, mostly for me. Seeing his sperm covered dick just compelled me to go down on him. For a few seconds I swallowed the head and cleaned him up. I washed him with my mouth.

"That's a bonus, Mike. I didn't plan to do that."

I tossed him the tissue box and told him to finish the clean up, that the party was over. I pulled my shirt back on and told him to go home, to go home to his wife and think of all the sexy things he could do to her. That's where he should direct his sexual energy, that this was like a massage parlor experience. He and I were not ever going to be sexual again.

And...this is important. I told him this will not happen again. I told him that this was going to be a secret...forever. No other human being was going to know what happened here. He was not going to be able to tell his wife. That would surely wreck their already rocky marriage and explode all over the neighborhood. When we are at a party or get together we will know about this intimacy but only we will know what I did to your cock today.

I wasn't even going to share this with my husband who normally gets told of everything but I won't this time. Every time you two made contact, at every party, at the park, it would be remembered. Mike needed to understand the certainty of keeping this secret; that I would do everything to ruin his life if he didn't.

"Go home now and good luck. When we meet in the future we are not going to be any different than we were before this happened."

He understood. And although he was thrilled with my "gesture" he looked a little afraid of my threats. As it turned out we had no problem. He was silent the whole time we lived there. And it looked like his marriage improved, at least from the outside. Or maybe I just hoped it improved. Maybe they started reading erotica and learned something.

When the door closed I rushed up to our bedroom and pulled out my dildo, "Mr. Brown". I was raging hot from the downstairs sex performance and I couldn't wait for my fisherman to return. Mr. Brown has a suction cup base for mounting on a chair seat and that's where it went. I straddled it and it slipped in deeply. I was wet. I fucked that chair fantasizing it was Mike from just before, just as if I had crawled up on him in the living room.

I rode "Mike Brown" until I came all over him. Wow! I was there in my bedroom really unleashing some sexual fantasies, yelling, "Fuck me, Mike. I'll be your wife tonight, Mike. Cum in me, Mike, your wife will never know."

Well, that's it. I didn't want to tell you because I knew it would affect any interaction you would have with Mike. It wasn't something that would damage our relationship. We know how to handle sex. Hell, we've done a lot of raunchy shit before and after and I guess this was kind of stupid to beat off the neighbor because I felt sorry for him. Maybe my primitive sex brain took over. It wouldn't be the first time.

Can you imagine a professional sex therapist handling it like your wife literally

handling

Mike? Probably not.