A Game of Tease and Please

A Game of Tease and Please

Me and my neighbor’s wife played a little game of ‘show me yours, I’ll show you mine’ for about two months before she let me bang her sweet pussy. For me this was one hell of a lucky situation, taking all factors into consideration; the chief of which being I am a sixty three year old retired black man and she a pretty early thirties buxom Asian (Indian) woman.

Some of you might be thinking that I’m just a dirty, creepy old man, but before you go getting all judgmental, look at it this way. When a guy is over fifty his options in the field of sex and romance become considerably reduced unless he’s a celebrity or has tons of money. At this age if he’s still got the sexual yearnings of a young man, but not the options available, then he’s got to find alternative ways to entertain himself sexually; the way he chooses might not always be conventional, but what the heck!

Savitri, her husband and two kids, moved into the house next door two years ago. Four months ago the husband’s sister Nirmala had come to live with them after her husband deserted her and skipped the country. As the weeks went by I noticed Nirmala’s belly rising; she was now about six or seven months pregnant. Savitri’s husband was a fifty something, almost bald Indian man with a flabby wreck of a body. He was almost always drunk, and would often beat up on his wife and kids and sometimes even his sister despite her pregnancy, for the slightest infringement, imagined or real.

Savitri was on the shortish, plumpish side, pretty as a picture with smooth creamy brown skin and long shiny black hair that reached to her butt which was much bigger than you’d expect on an Indian woman. She had thick rounded thighs and big round firm looking breasts. Pouty lips and hazel eyes fitted nicely into her round face with full dimpled cheeks.

When they first moved in she had been working as a teacher, but a year later he had stopped her from working. The discontent she harbored for the life in which she was stuck was evident on her face and in her body language. Hers had been a traditional arranged Hindu marriage that she had never even remotely tried to make work. Her contempt for her husband was obvious when they were seen together. He was a vulgar, arrogant man from a rich farming family, a black sheep whom they tolerated and settled with a managerial job and generous salary only because he was family. When drunk, he delighted in reminding her that he had brought her from rags to riches.

From the first time I saw her I went into one of those wish I were a young man brooding modes that guys my age experience from time to time; because all I could think of when looking at her is getting her on a bed sprawled out and naked and me between those nice plump light brown thighs slamming my cock into her pussy, hearing her moan and scream as I rode her fat pussy. Savitri is not the kind of woman who stirs decent or tame thoughts in a man; you look at her and all that comes into your mind are visions of fucking, sucking, licking, biting, analising, burying your face between sweaty breasts and thick, soft, wet, hot thighs. You imagine her sitting on your face and grinding all her wet sticky, slushy parts all over it. You thought of her small mouth with its pouty lips engulfing your cock or trying to swallow your aching balls.

At first she was very reserved as is customary with most women of her race, and gave only the briefest of nods, barely audible greetings and smiles so below the surface of her pretty face you had to imagine you’re seeing one. I went out of my way trying to get her to loosen up when we crossed paths on the street or walked pass each other’s yard, but no dice. And it was not only men she was distant with, she was just barely a little more civil with the women in the neighborhood. Usually I don’t have time for people who don’t have time for me; if I greet you a couple of times and your response is lukewarm or if you never greeted me unless I first say something when we pass each other or you keep your head straight and never make eye contact, then I just ignore you. But I liked Savitri, not only because she was fucking sexy, but also because I felt a strange kind of kinship with her, myself being a little introverted. I had this funny feeling whenever our eyes met that we could read each other’s thoughts or that we shared some kinda of binding secret.

Although I’d noticed her sexiness from day one and thought she would be a nice fuck I didn’t really think seriously of actually making it happen until the day a strong wind and a light skirt got into a dispute and exposed her plump ass to my eyes while she was moving about her yard and I happened to be at my window looking out at the right time. She was bending over some old junk her kids had left lying about when the wind got wicked and took advantage of the light cotton skirt. Because of her hands being laden with the junk she was bending over she was unable to respond quick enough to cover her exposed ass. Bending over as she was with her legs spread fairly wide I got a prime view even though there’s a thirty feet distance between our fences due to a drainage canal between our properties. My eyes widened at the sight of her luscious ass cheeks one of which was almost totally revealed because of the lace blue bikini panty having slipped off it and into her crack. The spread legs allowed the clear view of a fat lump of vulva. After she had disentangled her hands she quickly straightened up and struggled to keep the skirt in check from the still raging wind. As if stung by a bee she spun around and looked straight over into my yard checking to see if her goodies had been seen. At that same moment, with one hand pulling at the back and another at her left thigh area, the wind chose to lift the front of the skirt all the way up. What a pussy I thought as I viewed the fluffy crotch. I could see the dark hint of black pubic hair through the light blue material. And I could feel the awakening of my cock.

A more decent man would have looked away and saved her the embarrassment, but not me; I stared boldly in wide eyed admiration of the sweet thing. Her eyes met mine and I could see the shame in hers which quickly turned to anger when she saw me smile lecherously at her misfortune. She pouted her lips and her stout legs made a hasty retreat along the side of the house as she headed for her backdoor. At her back door she looked around and seeing me still standing at my window looking over at her, she gave me a cross look and slammed the door behind her.

The next day after all my family members had departed for work and school; I quickly dressed and stood peeking through the side of a window blind waiting and hoping to see Savitri emerge and head for the little supermarket around the corner as she did sometimes. I stood there for about forty five minutes before I was rewarded with the sight of the plump Indian goddess striding across her front lawn headed for the gate. I waited until she had opened her gate, stepped out and closed it behind her. She was already drawing close to my gate when I shut my front door and headed out. She passed by, head straight just as I was opening my gate which I didn’t even bother to close. I quickened my steps and caught up to her.

“Good morning, Savitri.” She did not answer, just edged further onto the grass parapet and kept her head straight as she walked.
“I know you’re not big on manners, the whole neighborhood knows, but we’ve become accustomed to at least getting a little nod or a little squeak out of you.”
“I don’t give a damn what the neighborhood thinks and you should be the last one to talk about manners. Men with manners, especially men your age, don’t stand at their window and stare at young women.”
“Some men my age do, men with certain feelings, especially when the particular young woman is beautiful enough to stir those feelings. So that’s what has you worked up, because I got a look at your goodies. I can tell you it was a beautiful sight. Everything I saw was perfect, you can be proud of what you have; there’s no other woman in this street half as good looking or sexy as you.” Her face reddened and she almost tripped over.
“Sir I must remind you that I am a married woman,” she held up her ring finger. “Is this how you speak to other men’s wives?”
“I notice you didn’t say happily married as most women would.” She flinched at that. “And no, I don’t usually speak like this to other wives. I’ve never met a wife who looks like you.”
“You are very rude, you know, and you’re harassing me. Please stop before I have to tell your wife and my husband.”
“My wife would only laugh and call you a pretentious little bitch; and your husband would accuse you of encouraging me and beat the shit out of you. Everybody knows he beats you for nothing at all.”
“If you don’t stop harassing me I’ll tell the police.”
That nearly stopped me in my tracks, but I decided to call her bluff, guessing she would be too bashful to do that.
“And tell them what, that your dress blew up while I was looking your way and you are angry because I saw your juicy ass and nice crotch. Because that is what I will tell them.”
She started to speak, but no words came out her mouth, and she was as red as a cherry and fit to burst at the prick of a pin.
“Listen, I’m truly sorry that I saw you in that condition, okay, I know it must be embarrassing and I can understand your feelings. But I must also let you know that I couldn’t help staring; you are an extremely beautiful and sexy woman. You should be proud that you have what it takes to awaken sexual feelings and admiration in an old man like me. I can’t remember ever wanting to fuck a woman so badly. But I’m sorry if I displeased you, please forgive me.”
She turned sideways and looked at me wide eyed and her mouth open. She was obviously shocked by my frankness and its erotic nature.
“I hope you can forgive me and we can talk again in a more cordial manner sometime soon. Good day.” I said and quickened my steps.
I was surprised when I heard behind me a very soft almost inaudible “good day.”

I didn’t see her for five days, which was unusual, because I would usually see her several times a day; if not moving about the yard tending her garden, or stepping out to go to the shop, she would be at a window or the backdoor.