I kept my brush wet, in case I walked around and saw touch-ups, or drips, but first I went inside and thoroughly washed my hands, washed up, washed my hands of the albatross of my summer-into-fall project.
The poor house had had a couple crappy spray-on paint jobs over the crumbling and all-chalked-out century-old enamel. This summer I'd taken on the west side of the house, scraping every inch of it down to bare wood. I was intent on doing a very thorough job. I replaced the worst wood. I found the studs and re-nailed every bit of the old wood, pulling all the old dead rusty nails. A case of caulk, two layers of killer primer, and just now I'd finished the last stroke of the $50/gal finish coat. I'd finished a day ahead of the forecast for the fall to fall into the month or two of cold wetness segueing into winter.
I came back for a look, and I was pumped up and feeling cocky. After all the months of lonely toil, it looked that fucking good. I was wanting a friend or neighbor to happen along to join me in my admiration of that which I had wrought with my own two hands. There is a certain satisfaction in that.
But it was early on a Wednesday afternoon, so I stood there by myself. There weren't even cars coming down our little street at that hour.
Then something flashed in my peripheral. It made me stand a little taller and straighter. And I was right. It was the green car coming to the curb at the green house two doors down. And yes, the green girl got out of the green car to go into her green house. I'd learned to like to watch that.
The girl wasn't really green, just slightly olive-complected. With this cute upturned nose, and a crazy mane of curly black hair. She was an active gal, so if she had on a pair of tight running shorts, her breasts were in a tit-mashing sports bra top. They looked pretty nice even like that. But it was her unencumbered ass that just stood out. Even to a non-ass man such as myself. The fucker just read, as though stitched, Squeeze Me!
I could catalogue her so completely because I'd become good at it. The green house, like several others towards the end of the block, had gone rental, housing households of upper class roomies finishing up at the small university a few blocks away. The populations changed annually. The woman who owned the green house tended to favor cute coeds for her tenants--bless her heart!
I've always enjoyed lounging out on my porch swing, hanging out reading while looking around, enjoying the eye candy. But us residents rarely interact with the transients.
Eye candy was just that. A tiny, occasional reward for a job well-done. I had a porch swing habit because I liked watching my scrap of life go by, however slowly.
I didn't know the green girl's name. We'd said hello once months ago when she came by walking her dog. So it had been a shock, the week before last, when I'd come back front to take a break from my labors, and there'd been my neighbor walking to her house from the opposite direction. The shock was that I'd noticed her and she'd noticed me, and then she'd waved and called out, "Your house is looking really good!"
As I said, I was feeling cocky. I caught her eye, and then I made the green girl give a wave back at mine. Then my hand motioned her closer. She took a few steps, looking confused, so I went around to meet her. Her eyebrows were up as a smile twisted along her face. "Hey," she said.
"Hey," I answered. "Listen," I added, "what you said a few weeks ago about my house project ... that was really nice. Here I've been slaving away in solitude, so it was very nice to get an objective remark." I realized I wasn't making much sense, so then I decided to start making sense. "Come see the end result," I smiled.
I was bold enough to pull one of her small soft hands into my grip. But just long enough to lead her on over.
She gave a whistle of appreciation.
I sort of shook my head. "Sorry to pull you in, but I'd just finished, and there was no one around to appreciate it."
"Nice!" she grinned. "And I know. One of my brothers makes great money doing this sort of work."
"Thanks," I patted her shoulder, "thanks for indulging me."
She turned to leave then stopped to hold out a hand. "By the way, I'm Emily?" The question was left hanging.
"I'm Nate," I answered.
"As in Nathan?"
"Well, yea, though no one's called me that in ages."
Maybe I'd given Emily too much information. She was halfway to her house when she came back. She came bearing her hands twined together in front of her. "So, Nathan, if I ask you a question, will you give me an honest answer? And don't worry, I won't get mad about anything."
"Maybe," I ventured, tenuously.
"Do you, like? ... us girls were wondering. I mean, it seems like you're always outside your house, working, or taking a break, or on your porch swing..."
"That is my favorite place to be," I added to her knowledge. "I reserve the right to be hanging out on my porch swing any time I want."
She parried back, "Because it makes it easier? Back to the original question, because we were wondering: Are you like constantly checking us out?"
My secret was discovered, so I lied. "I love my porch. My eyes are pretty shitty, so when I detect motion I look that way. The guys in your house, eh, I admit I dismiss much more quickly."
Emily just looked at me.
"And yea," I continued, staring into her eyes for emphasis, almost as a challenge, "when it's the cutest gal on the block, I do tend to let my looks linger, but not in a bad way."
"Me? The cutest?" she laughed. "But I've got such a big butt!" She shifted her hip to grant me a sideways view.
I was astonished. "You're kidding, right?"
Emily shook her head, not understanding me.
"You don't understand this? Truly? You have the most awesome butt in the entire fucking universe." I made so bold as to give it a hint of a caress and then quick spank.
She let out a squeak and made to move away, though without actually shifting her feet. "Really?" she asked.
I knew enough to keep on. "Maybe in ten or fifteen years, if you have a kid or two, you'll want to lay off the butter on your popcorn, but 'til then totally really."
She moved back against me--my hands fell chastely open, fingers spread across her glorious cheeks.
"Of course," I added, "I can only speak of it as observed under layers of fabric." I quickly moved back away from my bold stance. We were, after all, conversing right out by the street. Deserted for now, but you never know.
Emily's whole face was slashed by a huge smile. "None of my roommates will be home for hours." She let that hang in the air.
"If you want to see more," she turned and crooked a finger, "come follow me."
"Um," I stalled, "but don't you have like a boyfriend?"
"Yea," she nodded back. "And this has nothing to do with him. Don't you have like a wife?" Emily turned and started sashaying across the lawn to her house. Her ass cheeks were like the Sirens. "Follow me if you want," she called back. Who didn't want to follow that song to its motherfucking source?!!
Despite my unblemished marriage, I did just that. A huge fog had descended; I made my way following the glowing twitchings of her ass. We were both just barely over the threshold when she used a foot to slam the front door shut, while pulling me into a deep kiss.
The girl definitely wanted it. As did I. And I'm sure the stiffness of my urgency wasn't lost on her, pressed against her belly as it was while we did our little dance.
"Let's take this up to my room," she decided, breaking away from me. Emily led the way up the stairs, and I followed like a snapping turtle, biting at her squealing ass the whole way.
Once in her room, she continued towards her bed, then turned and faced me. I continued my trajectory, until she did that turn and pushed me back.
She was just giving me proper viewing room.
"I believe you wanted to get a better look at this," she said. She dropped her shorts, and turned her ass my ways. I was so glad she wasn't wearing a thong. I'm not a fan of the thong. It was so much sexier to see how the back stretch of her bikini panties had no hope of containing such a magnificent ass.
I slapped it! Emily recoiled around, and I just advanced upon her. My hands wrapped down the back of her waist to rub my apologies. But then my busy hands came up to her breasts. "I want to see these as well," I upped the ante. "Lose the shirt and the bra," I commanded. "I'm tired of seeing your breasts always squashed down by a sports bra."
Emily lifted her arms straight up in the air. "Make me get more naked."
In such a situation, upon such an illustrated request, as a guy there's really no response not an insult but to do what I did. I gripped the hem of her shirt, and lifted it slowly up over her head. The neck hung on her chin; after gently clearing that, it then got stuck on at the base of her cute upturned nose. Her mouth lay there revealed, her lips curling into a smile at the absurdity of it. I gave those lips a long kiss, kissing her deeply and almost violently while she still remained veiled from the nose up. Then I relaxed and revealed her dancing eyes. I gave it a theatrical toss as I flung the fabric away.
The sports bra was a bit more ticklish, as I accidentally tickled her a bit trying to get the grip to get it off. It was like a chastity tube-top made out of spandex. An iron maiden for the modern world, especially if a little sweaty. Finally, Emily just wriggled her arms and shucked the thing off herself, in like two seconds. It was almost as great a girl-trick as taking your bra off while keeping your shirt on.
The fight was well worth the effort. Emily had the most beautiful breasts I'd ever seen, even in reproduction. There was none of that Double-D nonsense. Just these gorgeous mounds perfect for touching, my hands like metal to their magnets.
When I moved to move my mouth down, Emily pushed me away again. "Hey," she exclaimed. "I'm down to just my panties, but you're still wearing boots."
I stripped to skin in about twenty seconds.
I thought of all the things I wanted to do. Kiss her lightly and sweetly, and then like mouth rape. How the rapture of her breasts required a two-week cruise for full appreciation. But there I stood, totally turgid, so I yanked down her panties and leaned down and stuck it in. My finger, that is. Almost rudely. Testing the waters, so to speak.
I reached a quick conclusion. Emily was so wet, I could suck her pussy for a hundred years, and it wouldn't get any readier. Maybe she felt the same way, as she dragged us backwards onto the bed. Just looking at her spread out before me in all her glory--nothing could make me any harder. I moved up and down onto Emily. Her hand slipped between us and guided the head of my cock to the swollen shut lips of her heaven.
"Good choice," she declared. "Let's just go at it. Save all the touchy-feely, kissy-sucky stuff for next time."
Next time, really?
It took her just one prod to lusciously split those guardian gates. Once opened, her pussy drenched us with its pent up juices. I finally understood the peach metaphor. The cleft, parted--it was exactly that juicy. Having achieved touch-down, her hand slunk away, but I refused to press my position much beyond that. Emily would give a groan as I slipped an inch or so in, but then there was the sigh as I pulled back to just stir the pot, rubbing my head between her lips.
"God," she groaned, grabbing my ass. "Quit being such a cunt-tease. Will you please fuckin' please fucking fuck me please?"
I filled her so fast I left her shattered and panting. As she recovered, Emily looked at me with gleeful eyes. She giggled. "You made me come so good just by sticking it in."
"I know! I was watching."
"And making it happen," she wriggled her hips, humping up at me. We were still very joined. Her surprise hadn't startled me--I was still extra ready to keep on going for awhile yet. I'd filled her with my cock; my first offering was yet to come.
I fucked the shit out of her tight wet cunt. When I finally shot my load, she just came along for the ride again. As I softened and was ready to pull out and roll off to her side, she instead locked me in with her arms and legs. "You're not going anywhere quite yet."
Emily just hugged me down and rocked me in the cradle of her love. She kept biting her lower lip, but then she finally exploded, "That was so fucking fantastic!" She keened up at me. "Best sex of my life, and you haven't even licked my pussy yet!"
Finally she let me slide to her side. I kissed and licked at her ear, down her neck, giving her shivers. Then I whispered in her ear, "I'm glad you liked it as much as I did. I agree: best sex ever. And I can't wait to lick your pussy."
We cuddled for ten or twenty minutes. There was plenty to keep me busy. We twined hands and had cute kissy sessions. With such sexy breasts right beside me, of course I wanted to keep playing. It didn't take very long for my dominant hand to start trailing down her taut tummy. My fingers finally crested the rise between Emily's legs. They spread, welcoming my touch.
I began rubbing Emily, and then Emily was rubbing me. I stayed fairly soft, until Emily bubbled over under my finger tips. Watching that happen as we lay quietly side-by-side was the hottest thing I'd ever witnessed. I responded accordingly, under her expert hand.
"God," she whimpered, "we're gonna do it again?"
"Feels that way."
Emily started shifting, moving up and away, turning onto her hands and knees. She settled with her head on the pillows, turned sideway and looking at me, challenging me. Her rump was raised and wagging in my direction. "Since you like my bottom so much, I was thinking maybe you'd like to do me doggy. Go crazy on me like a wild animal."
Well, let off-leash like that, that is exactly what I did. I was on my knees behind her and plunging in so fast she gasped. You bet I leaned back for the look. My glistening member sliding in and out of Emily's slick snatch. The greedy way her cunt lips kept tugging me back in. I'd never seen a sight so arousing.
It made all pornography dry up into dust. The problem with porn is that it's never really your dick, and the hotness is never someone you'll even pass on the streets. I was watching my cock thrusting in and out of the lovely cunt of this total hotty two-doors down. It wasn't reality t.v.--this was me, on my own street, no cameras involved.
As I played, I began to realize that this position wasn't particularly orgasmic for Emily. She was rewarding me. But, really, the only reward I wanted was her juices trickling down my thighs. I enjoyed the position for awhile, but when I started feeling serious, I pulled out and rolled her onto her back.
Her legs held fast at first, then she opened them slowly, like a flower showing its petals. Sparkled with dew drops.
"Are you getting ready to pound me?" she asked coyly.
"It may well come to that," I nuzzled her neck, sliding back in. "Who knows? Maybe what you need is a good spanking."
"Oh god, yes," she groaned.
"But mostly," I leaned down, sinking all the way in, then rubbing noses with Emily, as my lips burned back to hers, "mostly I just wanted to kiss while we fucked."
She pulled me all the way down, and we kissed sexy kisses while working it. The wonder was that we didn't bite off each others tongues when we exploded together.
After the period of laying there side-by-side just gasping, we both realized how late it'd gotten. I was the one who had to get dressed quick. And get the hell out of there. If the front door opened, Emily could always pull up the covers and pretend to be napping. To remain anonymous, I'd have to crawl out a small window onto the porch roof, riding a downspout to the ground.
Since she hadn't even bothered to put on her panties, I grabbed them and shoved them in a pocket. While she watched. "Sorry," I shrugged, "but I'm stealing your panties."
"Just make sure to return them next time, extra crusty," she cooed in return.
Back in my house, I took a reluctant shower. I really wanted to keep the smell of Emily wafting around me, but maybe that was something to keep from my wife. So I compromised. I mopped my crotch with her panties, hiding them away for later. Then I took that quick shower.
It was terrible. I kept pretending I wasn't crushed, but the crush was too big to crush. I felt foolish, wondering, it being Wednesday, so I got everything I needed to get done out of the way by lunch. After that, I lounged around out on the porch swing reading. Wondering if maybe I'd get a glimpse of the girl I liked.
I was about to give up and go inside when a car came down the street and became Emily's, slamming in to the curb. She got out of the car wearing scrubs. I'd guessed well before our pillow talk that she was doing the program where a hospital pays the tuition in exchange for shifts and a 2-year contract.
I thought about hailing out, as my heart beat went like a timpani. But she was off a shift, in her dowdies, and moving fast from car to house to shed that skin. I kept my quiet. Even though she looked totally hot in her thin cotton hospital scrubs. I'd pay for a nurse like that for the rest of my life.
But then Emily noticed me. She not only changed direction, but she switched her stride. Her downcast face was suddenly aglow with a huge smile. She walked right up to me. Maybe it was the slant of the sun, but no one--to my eye--had ever looked so sexy wearing hospital scrubs. Above the drabness, her head rose like the motherfucking sun.
"If you want," she spoke, "give me ten minutes for a shower. Then ... you know which room is mine."
I gave her fifteen. My first inclination was seconds, but I gave her the full minutes. Skip the stupid shower scene; let the girl have a nice warm after-shift splash-down.
Actually, it was about twenty minutes later that I stepped out on my front porch, and surveyed my neighborhood. Not seeing any snoops around, I took a casual little trip down the sidewalk. About two houses down. I stopped there, and gave another glance around.
Then I raced up the steps and gained the porch. The door opened with the knob. Once inside, I shut the door and locked it.
And I did remember the way, the room, the way to her room. The route was hard-wired in my brain; I could find her blind.
I entered Emily's room. She lay in the middle of her bed, with the bedding scooted away. She'd come wrapped in towels, but they'd fallen away. She lay there naked, squirming a little in her loosened swaddling. She had one hand entertaining a breast, the other a finger below for a little rubbin' of the nubbin.
Emily looked at me with heavy-lidded eyes. "I'm sorry. But I was so excited, I just had to start the party without you."
I grabbed at an ankle, and started sucking her freshly washed toes, one at a time. Unless I was feeling daring.
I told Emily, "Baby, I am going to kiss and lick and suck and touch every square inch of your beautiful body." She gave out a dog-like whimper.
Starting with her toes, I slowly undressed myself, as I made my way up her calves. Of course, I was naked by the time I got to her knees. It was when I attended to the back of her knees that I discovered a secret even Emily didn't know.
An erogenous zone I did lightly with a shy tongue and a finger tip. Hearing her groans, of course I kept at it.
"Jesus! I can't believe this--oh god, ohhhhh fuck!"
I couldn't believe it. Apparently I'd made this hot girl come just by licking behind her knees. Maybe indeed the world was a glorious place, home to great wonders.
Well, once you're past the knees, it's a straight shot up the old thighway. There was so much nice butt to attend to, and then I'd slip up past her hips, rudely bypassing the main valley. Up past the abdominal plains, I stayed to feast on her breasts, biting up her neck then to gain her lips.
"Missed a spot," she squirmed and humped.
"Who says I'm done?" I lent a hand to lay sprawled right above the missed spot, sending tingles through her tummy. "I'm saving the best for last. It's called leaving room for dessert."
And then I began kissing my way back down to her cunt. Like an old painting. The Moth, Returning to the Flame. Like a sad old bastard hoping to be not left out.
Because good things come in threes, I was out on my porch the following Wednesday. Even though it was nippy, a chilly drizzle coming down all day--and it was pretty miserable--I stayed out there the whole damn afternoon. I only gave up when her roomies started coming home. I went in and made a big pot of strong coffee. Nothing like a major caffeine buzz to aid in feeling like a total fool.
Do you even have to ask? If I set my alarm, eat lunch way early, and spend the rest of my time out of the porch swing ... it must be Wednesday again. And there I sat, feeling like a stupid old schmuck, until Emily's car glided down the street and parked at the curb.
I about had a heart attack when the first thing she did after getting out of the car was to peer in my direction. When she saw me, her face was cleaved by a huge smile. And then she gave a delicate wave, which I promptly returned. Emily turned and fished several bags out of her car, which she carried and deposited on the sidewalk. And then she was walking towards me, dressed in those cute scrubs.
"Hey," she called out as she neared me.
Emily stood there, smiling up at me. I was shifted around on the swing, smiling back down at her, waiting for what she had to say next. But she kept her mouth closed. I just wanted to leap off the porch and take her right there on that little scrap of lawn.
Right then, Emily suddenly shuddered a little yawn. It was the sexiest yawn I'd ever seen. "I'm so sorry," she immediately followed.
Emily nodded. "This girl is so tired and sore."
I nodded in sympathy.
"But also kind of pretty horny," she added. "It's like last Wednesday. I got so excited knowing my shift was ending that my panties were getting all wet. Hmm, wonder why?"
She let that hang. "But then some dumb bitch called in sick, and I got tapped for a double shift."
"That must've totally sucked," I agreed.
"Especially when you're wanting to be the one doing the sucking."
My crotch swelled with the explanation. "So what's a girl's plans for today?" I wondered aloud.
"A nice hot shower, followed by a good long nap. And, ideally," she gave her head a shake, "as a transition, some wonderful loving to make me sleep all the better."
"So?" I sang the question.
"So, give me half an hour to shower and stuff, then come over."
"Need any help, like, say, washing your back?"
Emily grinned. "Not this time. I want you to find me all fresh and ready and waiting for you." With that, she blew me a kiss, and turned to walk back to her own house. That sweet ass sauntered away, with added twitches because she knew damn well what I was watching. She kept glancing over her shoulder to make sure I was believing what I was seeing.
I gave her forty minutes, and then I found her. In her bed, and, indeed, waiting. I'd see those risqué underwear catalogues for women, and those stores in the malls where the manikins are enough to get a guy stiff. But I'd never been with a gal who took that stuff seriously. Sure, my wife kept her panty drawer stocked with a collection of every guy's wet dream ... but nothing I'd ever personally experienced vis-à-vis lingerie prepared me for the sight of Emily, lolling around in her opened bed.
She was in the full sexy almost-nothing uniform. Some of the scraps she was wearing I didn't even know the names for, except they were surely French.
It started at her toes, encased in hose, slinky stockings held up by frilly garters. Underneath some gossamer top, I could see how the little lacy demi-bra didn't do much except put her gorgeous breasts on display. There were panties up under there, hiding really nothing.
"Like what you see?" she asked.
I couldn't get my mouth to shut. My jaw stayed dropped. I didn't remember stepping on a rusty nail, but I certainly had a full-blown case of lock jaw.
"You look surprised," she giggled, "or shocked."
Finally I recovered. "I thought you were tired. I certainly wasn't expecting dress-up mode. Though it is very excellent. And makes me think some rather naughty thoughts."
"Never too tired to make my lover want me even more. Look," she said, rolling her hips and spreading her legs. A hand of hers trailed down there. An extended finger began rubbing her pussy through her panties, but the thing was it then slid up inside her cunt. Without slipping under some elastic. "Crotchless panties," she murmured, "how convenient."
I could see her juiciness, its dripping like a bad washer.
That was enough. That was definitely enough. I was naked in like thirty seconds. It didn't take but a few more to be on her and then in her.
There was the expected gasp as I penetrated her, and then a long low groan as I sunk deep inside. They came from Emily, and then I nudged her quickly to a sweet little orgasm. A matching gasp and groan came out of my mouth, which Emily grabbed onto as she recovered. She squirmed and thrust back up, clutching me with her arms and legs. "So how do you like fucking your hot little whore?"
I liked it enough, as always, so tremendously, that I fucked with abandon. I was her hot little whore. We fucked like wildfires in California combining and burning the whole goddamn state down to the waterline.
And then, after some post-game kissing and cooing, I got hard again. I stripped her naked, leaving flimsy filmy garments flung all over the goddamn room! That's ... that's just what happens when two hot little whores collide, I suppose.
I hadn't lied to Emily. To get out of ever wearing a rubber, I'd told the absolute truth. From our very first kiss, and then over the long haul, I'd never before been remotely unfaithful to the girl who became my wife.
I was that rarest of the male breed--certified STD-free.
"You're the only one who's ever tempted me," I whispered. I kissed and nibbled at her ear, knowing how she loved it. "I'm so glad I succumbed to your temptations," I sang like I was motherfucking Barry White. Because it was true. Emily was on the pill, but I was the first guy to get to ride her bareback.
My jism alone had the honor to drip from her cunt. I could see one of her boyfriend's dead rubbers draped like a Dali clock atop the stuff in a little wastebasket. His leavings from last night's loving, the poor schmuck. I wanted to leave a crumpled note sprawled atop his note. It's so much better without the rubber.
Spring started skidding towards summer, and that brought the semester to an end, as well as the year's lease. Lying curled together on her bed after our Wednesday afternoon exertions, or during a break, the impending reality lay over us like a sad little sheet. Emily and her friends would be out of the green house by the end of May. Emily had her degree, and grad school lined up in the fall.
It was just the tectonics of life, two plates having to shift apart. But still, we were both so sad that our lovely Wednesday afternoons would have to come to an end.
Fate did nod upon us. The long weekend they all moved out happened to coincide with my wife getting dragged down, hissing and spitting, to this five day conference in Dallas. She had no clue; she just didn't want to have to deal with a stupid trip.
Emily spent her last three nights living on our street sleeping in my bed. We lived and consorted for three days and nights as dedicated lovers. It was like my dream vacation--tons of hot sex, without ever leaving the neighborhood! We dined in restaurants, and fed each other food. We had nightcaps at the popular corner bar, drinking enough to grope each other in public. We didn't care who saw us. By then we were tired of the place, wanting to be naked in bed again. And hoping we could last the little alley walk to that bed without just ripping off clothes and having a fast garage bang.
It's an entire novel to accurately detail those three days of sex. I'd shown up with Emily to help her pack, both of us too exhausted to have bothered with a shower, so just reeking of it. Whatever her roommates wondered we just ignored. There I was, with sweet Emily, bumping about her old room. Shifting stuff into boxes. We'd already disassembled the bed and hauled out the parts. The mattress and box spring still lay where they'd been dropped, poking into the middle of the room.
The ghost bed looked so sad, so forlorn, so bereft, so empty. And Emily looked so hot. It all happened so fast there was no thought about shutting the door. We were as stripped as the mattress, down on it like hammers. For all the world to see. Her housemates, at least, and all their friends and family helping them move. Emily had her family there, with a long bed to move the big items; thank god we'd filled it up and sent them all on their way. We both knew it was probably the last time, so we fucked like animals, roaring like tigers, cooing like doves.
Her family came back with the truck emptied. Emily and I grinned at each other when we loaded in the mattress. No one else seemed to notice the small darkened oval that was still damp with our juices.
After that, it didn't take but another twenty minutes to load the rest of her life into the back of her parents' truck. The same was basically the same with her fellow housemates. Yet again, another generation of the green house was evaporating.
I took a few steps back, away from the upcoming mushy sidewalk goodbyes. I was, in fact, inching back towards my own goddamn house. Sexy interlude over--back to my old goddamn life.
Emily was suddenly looking around, looking a little lost. Until she spied me. She charged down the sidewalk, finding me. She fucking grabbed me tight and pulled me close.
"I'll be an ancient old woman when I die," she whispered, "but I'll die happy and content, and totally well-fucked, remembering our Wednesday afternoons." The way she pulled me into a kiss left no doubt with her friends and family. Particularly when she cocked a leg up around my waist. Especially when I held it up, squeezing at her ass to get a good hold. There, but for some layers of clothing, was our final, sidewalk, fuck.
We waved as this episode drove away. And there I stood on my quiet little street. Kind of happy to be back to the way things were before. Without having been discovered. I'd been with Emily. I couldn't otherwise imagine being with anyone other than my wife. My indiscretion made me a kinder mate, gentler, more willing to just throw her down and take her the way she liked.
It was the last week of August, a Wednesday in fact, when I heard a knocking on the front door. I'd just finished a little late lunch, so it was in fact afternoon. It was a surprise. I was a little leery, but I opened the door in genuine delight. There stood Emily, in the same tight running shorts and similar top as had first caught my eye.
"What a surprise!" I exclaimed, perhaps a little too loud. She just stood there smiling, knowing exactly how goddamn good she looked. Hands on her hips, arms akimbo.
I started spluttering, but then recovered. "To what do I owe the honor of your appearance? The sight, as they say, of your lovely visage."
Emily cracked up and broke her pose.
"So what's up?" I opened the door more and flattened myself against the jamb in an opening gesture. "You wanna come in?" I asked, "or should I step out? Or is talking through the screen door fine for you?"
Emily stepped into my house exuding a confidence like the most evil pheromone of all. I led her into a further room equipped with chairs and a sofa. "So what's up?" I repeated, giving her a swift kiss on the forehead.
She gave her jaw a jaunty lift. "I go off to grad-school next week."
"Excellent," I nodded like a bobble-head. I knew I looked like a retard, so I touched her hand, and held it. I held her hand in mine, stroking it lightly. "I hope you know I wish you the best in everything you do."
Emily squeezed a huge smile into a tight prim one. "I know. And I can't tell you how much that means to me." She gave a savage nod. "Your vote of confidence."
"So what's up?" I asked yet again. "I'm flattered you came by to say your good-byes."
"Shut up," she said giving me a sharp shove. I was a little shocked, and then she hissed at me, like a snake, but more like a tiger. She advanced upon me more like a tiger than a snake. She moved until the tips of our noses were touching, but nothing else.
"It's Wednesday afternoon," she cooed. We traded little lip kisses that just hinted at the imminent explosion. "Despite the summer away, well, it's Pavlovian. Every Wednesday morning, I still wake up so goddamn horny for you!"
Okay, so we were going to have one last one-last time. I wasn't complaining.
"What do you want me to do?" she whispered. "I'm all yours."
I wasn't used to that option. But then I decided. I led Emily from the livingroom into the bedroom. I reached past her to turn down the bed. Then I straightened up and looked right at her. "I want you to take off your clothes, slowly. When you're down to just your panties, I want you to clamber into the bed and start pleasuring yourself. I want you to soak your panties with an orgasm."
Emily was just watching me, her mouth agape, hanging on my words, clearly eager to please. "Then I'm gonna yank your panties down and steal them, like a final award. And then I'm gonna just fuck your brains out one last time."
Maybe I should've emphasized the implied strip-tease aspect. I'd never watched a fully dressed girl get that fast down to just panties. With that, she bounded into bed and began playing with her pussy. "This is what I like to do," she giggled, "when I'm thinking of you."
Just as fast, those panties were soaked and off, and my cock was sliding into her cunt. I certainly took advantage of a brand-new and totally unexpected last time. I made Emily wait, and kept leaving her gasping and mewling. Once she finally started to totally roar, I added the sensation of my cock giving the final swelling as I rigorously shot deep inside her.
Eventually we dressed, and finally parted for good, both of us rather stunned from the encounter. Somehow I remembered to steal her panties.
The smell of her eventually faded, but I still kept that last pair of panties stuck away in a secret spot. It was a precious, secret memory. My wife and I had gotten our groove back on, so it was a faded memory.
So I was shocked several years later to answer the door and find it Emily.
"So what's up?" yet again.
She'd gotten her postgraduate degree, had a great job in the healthcare field ... and she'd met this guy. She showed me a photo. A swarthy handsome Greek-looking dude with a big hook nose. I gave her all my best, while wondering why she was there. Turned out she was in town because that's where they'd be getting married this weekend.
All that was great, and I enthused, but still I had to ask once more, "So what's up?"
I stood there like a grinning goof, filling the doorway. All I could think of was that I so hoped she wasn't there to invite me to the wedding. I didn't know how I could explain that social obligation to my wife.
This time Emily pushed into my house, shoving me out of the way by bulldozing me inside. "It's Wednesday afternoon, silly. And I want you to be my private bachelorette party."
I ... I wasn't expecting that. Except maybe in my fantasyland. I ... I gave her a send-off to remember. I was certainly shocked when she inspired a third erection. I was happy to escape with a fresh pair of damp panties.
A couple years later, Emily came knocking once again. She was living a good life. She and Dom were thinking about starting a family. They were in town visiting her family, and she'd managed to sneak away for an hour. I was speaking all my best wishes for them, when she just threw me down. "It's Wednesday afternoon," she hissed. Our clothes came off, though I'm not really sure it was consensual sex. Emily never gave me the chance to say yes.
I didn't win a new pair of panties, because she wasn't wearing any.
And that was the last I saw of Emily, in that sense at least. A few years later there was an awkward ten minutes when she showed up and knocked and it was obvious that I should step out on the porch, where she showed me a few wallet-shots of her tiny lovely little daughter, and then a few more of the rest of the Sears Studio session with Mom and Dad included. I fawned, even knowing that once the display was over, she'd be gone for good. I was relieved, if saddened, when I realized right away that sex was not in the afternoon's equation.
After all, her time in town was very brief, and all she could spare were a few minutes on a Monday morning.
The years passed, and Emily settled into a very pleasant memory I'd revisit now and again. If I was in bed with my wife and feeling less than inspired, I might think of Emily. Most the time I didn't need to. I did keep the few pairs of her panties I'd snatched carefully hidden away, rolled up inside a pair of woolen dress socks I never wore, stashed in the back of my sock drawer. A time or two a year, there'd be a Wednesday afternoon where I'd be feeling nostalgic. And yea, I'd pull them out, pretending I could still smell her on them.
I was enjoying my decline into my 40s with my wife right there beside me. But then one evening she was driving home from work and got killed in a crash. Some drunk off-duty cop in his take-home decided he was responding. Between the insurances and the lawsuit against the city, my house was paid off and I never needed to work a job again, if I was prudent.
They say that money can't buy happiness. Everyone who's never had much money knows that that's a lie. Except in a case like mine. Perhaps it would've been better if I'd had to go off each day to some stupid job. Something to occupy me. Something to anchor me.
Instead, I drifted, and started really drinking.