Being Neighborly

I was a little drunk when I saw her.

She was the demonic soon-to-be ex-wife of my buddy Tommy, and I supported his decision to get the hell out of there wholeheartedly. Theresa was an Olympic-caliber bitch, who constantly was up and all over Tommy’s ass for no good reason, incessantly complaining about him to my wife and all the other yentas in the neighborhood, and generally going out of her way to make his life a living hell during every hour spent awake.

I helped him move out. Hell, it was time for Tommy to get going before she did him in.

Tommy was my boy and all, but I couldn’t even begin to understand his attraction to Theresa in the first place. I mean, when he proposed to her, she callously pushed the ring he’d proudly purchased right back at him, saying “THIS isn’t the one that I want! Go get me MINE!”

He shoulda cut bait and scrammed right then and there.

Besides, Theresa wasn’t even that good looking. She was on the big side, not fat, but definitely not shopping in the petite section at Macy’s either. In fact, her only saving grace was the massive 40 double Ds on her chest. These tits were phenomenal, I’m talking absolutely magnificent, and were likely the source of her control over Tommy. Poor guy.

But it was that same pair of perfect juggs that caught my eye as she rode her bike past our basketball game, and had me jogging over to say hi. Hell, it was time for a break anyway.

I DID mention that I’d downed a few, right?

She had a yellow, form-fitting Lycra jogging suit on, and the valley below her neckline was tremendous. Yowza! Luckily I had sunglasses on, because I couldn’t help but stare hungrily.

Of course Theresa started right in with the usual Tommy-bashing, but I just ignored her and concentrated on the shiny beads of sweat that were resting on the tops of her breasts. They were hypnotic. Then, when she stopped to catch her breath and reload with more anti-Tommy ammo, and my buddies started yelling for me to come back to the game, I temporarily lost my mind.

I put my hand on her shoulder, and looked her straight in the eye. “Look Theresa, you know that Tommy and I are tight, but I’ve always thought of you as a friend as well (lie #1). And now that he’s moved out, I want you to know that I wanna do what I can to make things easier for you (lie #2). So if you ever need anything when you’re home alone, and I do mean ANYTHING at all, you just gimme a call. Any time, day or night, I’ll take good care of you. I mean, hell, you’re right across the street! You’re a good person who deserves a helping hand, and I mean that (lie #3–the Trifecta). So please don’t hesitate to ask, okay?” And then I ran my hand lightly down the length of her arm, backing away as I smiled at her.

What the hell was I doing? Oh yeah, dreaming about life in tit land!

Theresa looked a bit taken aback, like she wasn’t quite sure if I was really saying what she thought I was saying. But she smiled at me, and got back on her Cannondale. “Wow, what an offer,” she said, with no small amount of sarcasm in her voice. “ANY time, huh? Hmmm, I might just have you come do my laundry!” And then she rode off, and I made my way back to our game with a hard-on.

The next week was jammed busy at work, and I’d all but forgotten about my encounter with queen bitch. Then on Tuesday, my wife Chrissie left for a two day work seminar in DC, so I was all alone when the phone rang just after 10pm.

“Hey Randy,” said Theresa, with an interestingly playful lilt in her voice. “Is Chrissy still awake?”

“Um, no dear, she’s in DC for that teacher’s seminar thing, remember? It’s just Lil ole me sitting here, watching ESPN.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot,” she said, with a definite smile in her voice. “You know, I think I could use your help tonight. Can you come help me?”

I decided to mess with her a bit. “Have you been drinking?” I asked with mock seriousness.

“Why don’t you come on over and find out?” she smiled.

Wow, I thought. I think it’s ON!

“So, what do you need help with tonight, ma’am?” I asked, with a playful lilt of my own.

“Oh, I have a….um….something down here in my kitchen that needs to be taken upstairs and stuck in the bedroom. I can’t carry it, but you probably can.”

I stopped and surveyed the situation for a moment. Yes, I do believe that she wants me to come over and bang her brains out. But I really am in love with my wife, and our neighborhood is a total gossip epicenter. This may not be such a smart idea, after all. The repercussions could be very bad.

But then I had a mental image of those major mountains of soft flesh, and how sensational they must look without a shirt covering them. How big are her nipples? Do they get nice and hard? What color are her areolas? I had to know. In fact, I had to know NOW.

“So?” she asked. Are you on your way?”

Three minutes later, I was knocking on the side door that led into her laundry room. It was dark on that side of the house as I approached, which allowed me more cover from the prying eyes of our watchdog neighbors.

Theresa turned her back on me as she let me in, and I followed her slowly into the kitchen. There, next to the sink, was an empty bottle of Pinot Noir, with another one next to it that had maybe two glasses remaining.

Aha! That’s what I figured.

She leaned back against the island, and looked at me hazily. I knew I was a goner. She wore a sort of half-shirt that exposed what looked like a fairly tight and flat belly, and a pair of black Lycra bike shorts that hugged her hips tight. Yum! She stood barefoot, with pink painted toenails and a gold toe ring on her right foot, and I noticed a small rose tattoo on her ankle. Standing there like that, she looked as sexy as any woman I’d ever seen, which honestly surprised the hell out of me, since I was stone cold sober.

Theresa reached behind her and clumsily poured us each a glass of wine. She walked to me slowly across the kitchen and deliberately put the stem of the glass between my fingers.

“So, Mr. Helping Hand,” she purred. “Just how handy ARE you?” She stood so close that I could feel her breath on my lips as she spoke. Already my cock was getting hard.

“Well, that depends on what needs fixing,” I managed. I had a sip of wine, and she took the glass right back out of my hand and set it down on the table beside us. Then she reached out and grabbed the front of my cargo shorts and pulled me right up against her, hard. She moved her face inches from mine, and I awaited her kiss.

Silly me.

“I know you think I’m a big fucking bitch,” she said roughly, looking me straight in the eye. “All you little assholes think that. And maybe I am a big fucking bitch, but I think that I deserve the best. And that asshole that I’m almost-not-married-to anymore never gave me what I wanted. He never gave me jack shit. He didn’t send me flowers on my birthday, he didn’t take care of me when I was sick, he never cleaned up after his sloppy ass, and he NEVER made me cum! That lame-o couldn’t last for more than 30 damn seconds before he was shooting his little water pistol all over the damn place!”

She was getting herself worked up now, and it was dawning on me that I’d likely made a BIG mistake by coming over.

“Well, fuck him,” she spat. “Good riddance. I hope his tiny cock falls off,” she huffed, and leaned back against the island again. Me, I was beating my brain, desperately trying to come up with an excuse to get the hell out of there, and fast.

“Do you think I’m hot?” she asked, almost guiltily.

That totally caught me off guard. “Wh-what?” I stammered.

“Do-You-Think-I’m HOT?” she repeated, with rising anger and volume.

Actually I think you’re a fucking psycho, I thought.

But that’s not what I said.

“Yes. I think you are an extremely attractive woman. Hot as hell, actually.” I may have been lying again, but I wasn’t at all sure at that point.

Theresa softened up a bit, and smiled. “I see the way you’re always checking out my boobies, you naughty boy,” she grinned, thrusting her chest out and making them bounce. I was transfixed, and just nodded in agreement. If a cuckoo bird suddenly popped out of her forehead at that moment, I wouldn’t have been surprised in the least.

“You wanna see them, bad boy? Wanna play with them?” she asked coyly, squeezing them seductively through her half-shirt. Again, all I could do was nod. This way she shifted gears was just way too fucking bizarre.

And kinda hot, too.

“I don’t think that Chrissy would approve of this,” she said, as she lifted her shirt over her head and revealed two massive globes straining against an enormous bra. “Come here, baby. Come to momma,” she said, wagging her finger.

I sort of floated across the kitchen to her, hesitating for just a moment before I reached up and scooped two big handfuls of nirvana. I stroked and caressed them, slowly, savoring the moment. Theresa seemed to be savoring it as well, as she let loose with a sexy little moan and giggle.

“Hmmm, maybe YOU can give me what I want, Randy,” she purred, and reached for the front clasp, unsnapping her bra. I slipped it over her shoulders and it fell to the floor. And then there they were, live and in person, looking even more delicious than I’d imagined. They stood tall, with no hint of sag, and had a great weight and firmness to them. Her areolas were light pink, and they encircled dark nipples that were growing harder right before my very eyes.

I snatched my t-shirt off in an instant, and pulled her to me. Our tongues met with a spark of electricity, and our mouths battled as I felt the weight of her beautiful tits pressing against my chest. I couldn’t wait any longer, and kissed my way down her neck, taking her right nipple into my mouth. It was nice and hard as I flicked my tongue around it and sucked it greedily with my lips. I buried my face between her mounds as I grabbed her ass and pulled her closer. I totally lost myself in her breasts, and have no idea how long I stood there, devoting myself to them. She put her hands around the back of my neck and held my head firmly in place.

My cock was granite hard in my pants and I knew that I was in for the fuck of my life. All I could think about was how awesome it was gonna be to get between her legs and make sweet love with her–the bitchy, almost ex-wife of my best friend. I couldn’t wait.

Theresa seemed to be sensing my thoughts.

“Come on, lover, let’s take this upstairs,” she said quietly, and I followed. On the stairs I pulled hard on her bike shorts and they slid down and came right off, revealing a tasty bubble-butt ascending the stairs right in front of me. I followed her into her bedroom and kicked off my own shorts before taking her into my arms in an amazing naked embrace. Her body felt incredible against mine as we kissed like long-lost lovers.

Finally, after a fiery extended moment, she pushed me back on her bed, and climbed on top of me, her double Ds dangling in my face. I reached up and pulled them down to me, burying my face between them again. I was totally ready to fuck her, and lined my cock up to her wet pussy, aiming below her light blonde landing strip.

“No, not yet, lover,” she whispered. “I want that fat cock someplace else first, before I take you there.” Theresa reached into a drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a small bottle of lotion. She lay on her back and squirted some onto her breasts, and then into her hands, before rubbing them erotically all over my cock. I’m surprised that I didn’t cum right then and there.

And then it hit me–she wanted to fuck her sweet boobs! I wasted no time in straddling her, as she pushed her melons tightly together and I lined up my cock to meet them. I started slowly at first, but the sensation of having my shaft pressed between those absolutely perfect breasts, and the tantalizing smile of satisfaction on her face was just too much, and soon I was pumping her like a jackhammer.

I reached back and began to stroke her sopping pussy with one hand as I fucked her chest with all that I had. The scent of her juices was strong in the air, permeating my brain. She looked like the most beautiful creature on the earth, lying there under me. It startled me to think about how badly I wanted her right then.

“That’s it, fuck my big boobies, lover,” she whispered. “Ooh, you feel so good!” My hand was covered in sticky wetness as I continued to make her sweet pussy dribble.

“Oh, yes! Fuck yes!” she screamed. I brought my hand to her mouth and she licked my fingers greedily.

“Does Chrissy do this for you?” she asked, panting.

“Does Chrissy make you feel this good?” she asked.

“No way,” I confessed, and went back to stroking her engorged clit. “Nobody makes me feel this good, baby.”

Now where did THAT come from? I wondered.

“So, who is the woman for you?” she whispered. I just couldn’t wait any longer, and slid down and plunged my cock deep in her waiting pussy.

“Who do you want?” she asked, louder this time, as my rod fired in and out of her like a piston.

“Who is your woman?” she asked loudly, biting my lower lip, hard, with her ass wriggling under me, driving me wild.

“WHO DO YOU BELONG TO?” she belted, at the top of her lungs.

“YOU! I’M YOURS!” I answered, and exploded like a pipe bomb, the world getting fuzzy as I filled her with wave after wave of my seed. She responded with a massive orgasm of her own, her voice cracking as she tightly wrapped herself around me.

We lay there, drenched in sweat, trying to catch our breath. Then she rolled over, half on top of me, and kissed me a long, wet, wonderful kiss.

“We’re gonna be very happy together, lover,” she smiled.

Tags straight female   straight male   adult female   adult male   romance