Her tits were driving me crazy. They weren’t huge; not quite apple sized. It was they was they hung on her.

The woman never wore a bra except when she went to work, and they were bouncing around my head every time I saw her. She lived next door with Vern. He was ok, I wouldn’t have described him as a friend. They seemed like a happy young African American couple, I was the one with the problem.

“Shit Claude, wear shades when you go outside.” My wife told me, “Or learn how to unglue your eyeballs from Andrea’s tits! It’s starting to get embarrassing.”

“Yeah, sorry.” I said, “They’re just so, um, well, you know.”

“Yeah, firm and fruity.” Leandra said. “Look, you don’t have a chance with her, so just get over it. Here, these you can have.” She pulled off her shirt and opened her bra. “Yeah I know, they’re not firm or fruity anymore, but look on the bright side; they are available.”

I wrapped my arms around her from behind and lifted her generously offered generous white breasts.

“Thanks.” I said. “It’s very understanding of you.”

“You have to face the facts, darling.” She said as I fondled her, “That girl is 20-something and lives with a gorgeous six foot tall airline pilot. You’re just a horny old white man apartment manager. What about that Ginger woman? Did you ask her out?”

“Shot me down.” I said. It’s difficult to get a date for a married guy who shares a bed with his wife.

“I’m feeling a little bit needy too. Simon broke up with me last week.” She said.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me. Sorry, he seemed nice.” I said, realizing that Leandra was going to let me have more than a fondle. “Who were you out with last night then?”

“Just some guy who asked me to dinner. I don’t know if I like him or if I’m just horny.”

I kissed her neck, she turned to face me, and then we went to bed together.

We’d been a married couple, broken up, gotten back together, broken up, and then Leandra got into a fight that went too far, and ended up in jail for a few years. Now on probation, she needed a steady place. So we weren’t a couple even though we lived together and were married, and slept in one bed, and had occasional sex. Leandra made it clear that it was temporary; we’d tried and failed too many times.

I was a bit worried that we’d end up together again. I suppose having sex was a bad idea, it was just always good with her. It was everything else that was the problem.

She got out of bed and took a shower as I lay there thinking of the cute black cock-teaser next door.

Man, even after fucking my wife I couldn’t get Andrea’s tits out of my head. Sometimes, she’d lie topless in the sun on their balcony, where no one could see in. Except through my back window. She was outside the week before wearing a t-shirt that was scissored off just under her tits, so the lower surfaces poked out every now and then. Or she wore a blouse so thin that it might as well not have been there, because her apple-sized boobs could almost be tasted through it.

I pretended not to be obsessed; she pretended not to notice that I was. She had a little exhibitionist steak; she liked to tease me, the horny old neighbor, I liked to be teased, that was as far as it was going to go.

“Hey, you’re looking sharp.” I noted as Leandra put on her highest heels. She was wearing net stockings and a short skirt too. “You have a gig tonight?”

She did standup at a club in town some nights, and sang with a band every now and then, and still hoped to act again one day. She’d only ever had a few bit parts.

“No, second date with the new guy.” She said. “Can I still get away with this outfit?”

“Yes, you can.” I told her, “You’ve still got great legs.”

“Thanks.” She said, “I should have had my hair done, I have roots showing. Give me a call around eleven, ok? I might need an excuse.”

“Sure thing.” I said, “Have fun.”

I wished she’d either stay with me or move out. Yeah, I still loved her. She was a powerful woman, and good looking too. At the same time, I knew we were a disaster. When we got into one of our fights, it was hell month. Or year.

I washed off and got dressed. I looked out through the balcony door, and saw Andrea out in the yard standing still in the moonlight, in her habitual half T-shirt and short shorts. It was a bit cold out there to be dressed like that. I stepped outside. She turned her face to me; the whites of her eyes seemed exaggerated in the dim light of the half moon. Her tits looked at me longingly.

I knew Leandra was right; why would a hot young black woman with a good job and a hot boyfriend have any interest in a washed up middle-aged man like me? She just like to flirt.

And so did I.

I wanted to say something, but nothing clever came to mind as I stepped closer. I could feel her heat in the cold night air. I stepped even closer. She just stared at me in silence that screamed for more.

Her nipples were showing through the thin cotton that failed to cover her irresistible little breasts. Was it just the cold?

Her face tilted up, her mouth parted. She was so pretty, so young, so black. Her hair stuck out in wide wild rebellious coils.

I’d been with a few women. Quite a few actually. Only white women though; it was actually a bit odd. What was this unspoken invisible barrier of color?

There seemed to be some sort of vacuum between us, sucking us towards each other. I was just 2 inches from her now, and the force was too strong to resist. My hands found her ribs, her semi-naked body hot in the cold night air. Her tits, her irresistible tits pulled my palms inexorably upward. She was hot, so hot. Her face seemed blank, her eyes staring at me as my hands slowly lifted higher, under her flimsy covering, until they connected.

She gasped; or maybe that was me. Anyway, I had them! The delectable, wonderful weight. The warm squishy firmness of human female breast. The nipples were between my thumbs and forefingers, stiff and eager to be mine.

I could smell that she’d had a drink. Was she drunk? Did it matter?

Since I had to do something, I kissed her. And man, did she ever kiss me back. Yeah, hands on my head, tongue in my mouth, the hot little girl from next door was all over me.

Why? Hell, I don’t know. Maybe just for the naughtiness of it. She’d seen me looking, she’d bounced those tits around in the yard behind the building, she liked to be seen. She kept bouncing those wonderful boobs at me, and it seemed like her nipples poked through her clothing whenever my eyes landed there. Which happened often. She’s be out in the yard, lying in the sun, or doing some gardening in the tiny fenced lot we shared. Always in short shorts and a cutoff T shirt or almost-open blouse that drove me crazy.

And now I realized that somewhere along the line, she’d become turned on by me too.

Her warm little body was consuming me, eating me alive; or maybe that was the mosquitoes. Anyway, I fondled her and kissed her, and her hand went down my pants and grabbed my cock, just like that.

That was when I realized she was wearing a miniskirt instead of her usual shorts. And my hands were on her naked ass; she wasn’t wearing panties!

We didn’t speak. My pants fell around my ankles, I lifted her up with my hands under her ass as her legs went around my hips, she held my dick in one hand as I lowered her hairy groin over it. She gasped, or we both did. FUCK!!

She was tight and wet, she heaved up and down, her tits crushed against my chest in the starlight, her arms around my neck, my hands on her tight little ass as she squeezed and heaved in grunting panting pleasure, as she destroyed me.

I’d fucked a girl that hot once; back when I was a boy that hot. Even then, I wasn’t enough to keep her.

And I knew it was the same with Andrea. It was just a shot on the dark, one shot up her dark hairy pussy was all I could hope for. Actually a lot more than I could have ever hoped for.

The sensation of her body, so young, strong, light, lean, sexy, tight, juicy, sweet ... If I hadn’t just had sex with my wife a couple of hours earlier, I wouldn’t have stood a chance.