Like a Good Neighbor_(0)

Boyd, our neighbor, had stopped over to return our paint sprayer. My Wife Anna and I were joking with him about “honey-do” lists. His wife was traveling for the weekend and he was happy to have his one chore done and be able to relax.

I noticed Boyd eyeing my wife; checking out her finer points as we all chatted – I could hardly blame him, and it certainly wasn’t the first time. She was wearing a tight-fitting black sweater and a grey skirt that, while not very short, was slit most of the way to her hip – I don’t know where she buys these things. She’s very beautiful by any standard, and we both do our best to stay healthy.

We easily convinced him to stay for a few drinks and all moved into the living room. When he sat, Anna sat next to him. She and Boyd were a little closer than might otherwise seem sociable since our dog was hogging half of the couch. Anna rubbed the mutt’s belly affectionately, so I wasn’t inclined to shoo him away, and chose the wicker chair opposite them. Naturally, as soon as I sat down, the stupid dog flopped down and padded off – but I noted with interest that my wife stayed saddled up close to Boyd.

We’d already each had a drink while talking earlier and I’d just handed out a second round. In fact, it was the third for my wife as she’d had a glass just before Boyd arrived.

We soon had a lively conversation about the hoops we humans go through to satisfy our pets, what we put up with – simple small talk. More wine for the missus, and a duo of fresh beers, and soon the topics broadened while the jokes and inevitable sexual innuendo were in full swing.

Anna’s long amber hair was tied back, highlighting the curves of her neck. Her shoes were off and one of her legs was folded under her so she could get a good angle for close conversation with Boyd. The arrangement caused her skirt to ride even more generously up her smooth thigh.

My wife is a very expressive talker, and she was patting Boyd’s thigh as she spoke, using that hand to form sentences then letting it rest on him in the pauses. Anna is curvy enough to give anyone lusty thoughts just by being in the room, but throw some touch into the mix and it’s not a fair game. Boyd was sneaking glances as much as he could, naturally. I don’t typically notice a man’s crotch, but from my vantage I couldn’t help notice he had a definite bulge showing. She spoke and sipped from her wine glass, lipstick and nails matching the merlot, and didn’t seem to notice the effect she was having on him, or so I thought.

I was growing excited too, admiring those grapefruit-sized breasts and the trace of her nipples pushing against the tight fabric; the way the material clung to each orb like paint. Add of course, her hand on his leg was having an obvious effect on the three of us.

The thing is, she and I have had some pillow-talk about implied threesomes, just fantasies though. Like after she’d cum two or three times and I could have my way with her, she’d suck and lick along my offered thumb while I continued to fuck her tight pussy. Sometimes I’d whisper, “I wish I could be in two places at once…” and she’d respond, “Would you like that honey, to see me with one cock in my pussy and one in my bad little mouth?”

Her eyes would be smoke and she’d continue breathily, “You’d love that I bet… mmm… I bet *I’d* love that …” and drive her hips up to meet my thrusting. Naturally, I’d soon blow my wad, and she’d often cum again, too. But this was barely an occasional script and we’d never made any real plans, or discussed the idea outside of the bedroom.

Then here she was, touch-talking to Boyd and toying with the poor man. I saw her glance at my own hard-on and she smiled slyly as she let her hand move higher up his khakis. Still casual contact, but her hand rested a little longer and gradually a little higher while she continued the conversation.