Girl Next Door

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I know my husband looks good; I wouldn’t have married him otherwise. In some ways I was accustomed to women flirting with him, though I never fully accepted it. Arguing over it was pointless; he didn’t see harmless flirting as a problem, and I was budging off my point that married people shouldn’t flirt. If I caught it happening, I stopped saying anything to him. Instead I would find the woman who was doing it, and stare her down until she understood that he was my man, period.

I’d tell him all the time about the signals women send — like touching him when they talked, or “unknowingly” leaning over a little too far with a top on that wasn’t meant to contain. He didn’t believe fat meant greasy; he didn’t believe that there were women who just wanted to see how far they could get with him; and he didn’t believe that there were women who would stop at nothing to get him, if they sensed he was interested. In his mind, once a woman knew he was married, she would respect that commitment he made. They may flirt, but they wouldn’t cross that line. I was amazed that such a successful man could be so naive. Being just in his 30s, he had started a retail business, and grew it to three stores around the city. How in the world did he do that, and have no clue as to the minds of women?

Or maybe I was the clueless one? Maybe he did know very well what those women were up to, but played like he didn’t to keep me from suspecting there was more than flirting going on. I was tempted to setup a demonstration to prove my point. The problem was no woman I trusted enough to bring in on my idea. Without that, I’ll just have to wait for a situation to naturally develop that would open his eyes, or bust him in his tracks.

We moved to Arlington Heights a year ago. Our next door neighbor was a single mother, with a teenage daughter. Seventeen year old daughter, to be exact. She turned 18 sometime over the Christmas break. She left for college at the end of the summer, so my radar was on the mother, given the way she bounced over to welcome us. She invited us over to swim in her pool, she told us about the billiard table her ex-husband left in the basement, and she commented that it would be nice to have a man on the grill at her next cookout.

“Provided you let me borrow him,” she said with a phony smile I coulda knocked off her face.

And not to mention the sundress she wore, with half her thigh and almost all of her B-cup chest showing. The material itself didn’t hide much; her nipples were clearly visible when erect, and you could see the outline of her name and address when light caught her right. I knew what she was about 10 minutes after meeting her.

I saw Jeff stealing glances at her now and then as he brought in boxes with the movers. They were looking at her too. I tried not to get angry when he looked, and I never caught him leering. It didn’t do much for my ego to know that other women could grab his attention like that, but I didn’t need to let myself get insecure over it. After all the boxes were in the house and the movers left, I changed from the bra and t-shirt I had on into a cotton tank top — in part because I was hot, but also to see if I could get his attention. I kept unpacking like normal, until he noticed.

“Hey, what’s the tank top for?”

“It’s for getting work done,” I blew him off.

“Yeah, right,” he came over and hugged me from behind.

“Get off,” I laughed, “we got work to do.”

“Then you shouldn’t have put this tank on,” his fingertips touched my nipples. “See, you ain’t thinking of work either.”

Feeling appreciated, and aroused, I turned around and pulled his face to mine for a kiss. “We have to unpack.

“Then why’d you change?”

“I was getting hot,” I backed away.

“Oh, so it had nothing to do with what Vivien had on?”

I shook my head, “I told you last time I wasn’t telling you no more. If you didn’t know she was spreading it out for you, then I can’t help you.”

“Okay,” he laughed. “Okay.”

I went back to unpacking, “Okay, what? Like you didn’t see her high beams on!”

“Yup, I sure did!”

“And you liked it!” I looked at him over my shoulder.

“I like nipples; so what?” He grabbed me from behind again, “I like seeing yours more because I get to play with them.

I pushed back to get him off me when he gave them a little twist, “All right now! We got a lot left to do before Monday.”

“Then you shouldn’t have distracted me,” he reached around and ripped the tank open, and took a big squeeze of my 36Cs before I could protest.

The move knocked me a little off balance, and I put my hands on the counter to steady myself, “Ohhh damn.”

“Yeah, this is why you put on that tank,” he leaned over and kissed my neck as he kept squeezing firmly but slowly.

I felt his erection on my ass, “No its not.”

“Right,” he chuckled. He reached around to unfasten and pull down my shorts and panties. When I kicked them off my feet, he turned me around and drove his tongue into my mouth. His hands roamed over my back and hips, squeezing my ass now and then.

This was ataşehir escort the going beyond the reaction I wanted, but I was all for it. I opened and pushed down his shorts. I rubbed his dick through his boxers for a moment, then pushed them down too. When they hit the floor, he lifted me up on to the marble counter. It was cold, but I didn’t care. I pulled a drawer out to put my foot on, and rubbed myself as I watched him free himself from his shorts, boxers, and shirt — oh yeah, my body was ready for this. He stepped to me, and went in on two thrusts. I love that feeling of being penetrated, and almost wished he’d pull out and do it again. But to make sure he didn’t pull out, I grabbed two handfuls of his ass as his mouth went back to my neck.

After a while, he pushed me back, so he could palm my bouncing tits. I locked my ankles around his waist. This new angle felt even better, and my louder moans told him so. He began groaning right along with me, and soon we released together. I wrapped my arms around his neck and told him I loved him as we kissed through the waves. He held me to him and told me the same.

He backed up and sat in a chair, kinda angled toward me. He was still mostly erect, and coated with our juices. I rested my elbows on the counter, and caught my breath — until I felt his deposit start to withdraw. Since my tank was already ruined, I took it off, and used it as a towel between my legs. He laughed at me for trying to be so neat after such a messy act.

“Hey, our food will eventually be on this counter!”

“My food already was!”

“Shut up!” I was laughing with him, until I caught something out of the corner of my eye and nearly jumped out of my skin. It was our neighbor’s daughter standing at our patio door with something in her hands. She looked like she was in a trance, until I screamed. She shot from the porch; I shot from the kitchen. My clueless husband sat there, asking , “What?”

“You didn’t see her standing there?” I asked halfway up the stairs.

He followed me, “My eyes were closed.”

I made it to our bedroom, and jumped over boxes until I got to the bathroom, “Curtains are going up on every window we have right now!”

“What do you think she saw?”

“EVERY THING, the way you were sprawled out! And it’s not funny!” I suppressed my laugh. “She saw us; you all sprawled out on the chair, and me laid up on the counter! She’ll tell her mother, and she’ll think we are freaks!”

“Maybe she’ll want to join us!”

I couldn’t help letting out my laugh when he wouldn’t stop, “Uh huh, see?!”

“Look, we’re in our house, not out on the sidewalk,” he stopped laughing. “It’s our business what we do in here. If she thinks we’re freaks, tell her to keep her peeping Tomisita daughter off our patio!”

I came out the bathroom, “You just like people looking at you, freakin’ exhibitionist!”

“I could give a class,” he kissed my cheek on his way into the bathroom.

I kept expecting the phone to ring as I changed. I went downstairs, and back into the kitchen. I looked out the patio door, and saw a dropped cake where her daughter stood. “Great! Not only do I have to clean that up, but how am I going to thank her without bringing up what Rihanna saw?”

______

In the months we had been there since, Vivien never said a word. When I thanked her for the cake, she just said, “Glad you liked it.” I didn’t know if that’s because Rihanna didn’t tell her or if she didn’t know how to talk about it either. What would she say? “So, my daughter saw you having sex in your kitchen…” How awkward that be? She didn’t act any different, so neither did I. She was overly friendly toward Jeff, but she was like that from the start. When she was walking her dog when he pulled up, I’d watch from the window as she laughed too hard at whatever he said, bent over to get something off the ground, or send out some other signal that he wasn’t picking up on — or at least acting like he wasn’t picking up on.

Vivien threw a cookout for Rihanna when she came home on her summer break. She did ask if Jeff could work the grill, and she asked if I could help her in the kitchen. We were the only three adults at the party. Everyone else there was Rihanna’s age. You could certainly tell it was summer time; guys in tanks or shirtless, and girls in halter or bikini tops. Vivien commented on a few of the guys while we were getting trays together — wondering how much they could lift, and nudging me as she laughed. A long as her attention was off of Jeff, she could fantasize all she wanted to.

I even got a little kick out of egging her on, “Imagine how much two of them together could lift?”

“Ohhhhh, girl!” she howled. “You about to send me up to my little black box!”

As she laughed, I noticed Rihanna standing a little too close to Jeff. I kept the joke running with Vivien for a few more minutes, then decided to make an appearance by Jeff’s side. I excused myself to take him some water, “Here baby, you look thirsty,” I said clear enough for her to hear me.

“Thanks, baby, but I got a bottle right here,” he kadıköy escort moved to the music as he spread sauce on the ribs. When I didn’t move or retract my hand, he looked at me and noted my expression. “Well, it has gotten a little warm,” he took the bottle from my hand.

I looked at Rihanna, who was looking back at me over the rim of the cup she was drinking from. She was a lighter, fuller-figured version of her mother. Where Vivien was a B-cup, Rihanna was a solid, firm C. She accentuated the red tinge of her skin by lightening and highlighting her hair. Her stomach was flat, and her thighs were toned from running track. She left the button of her Daisy Dukes open to draw a little more attention to her belly ring. When I was her age, I guess I would have flaunted a shape like hers too. However, at that moment, I wanted to knock her head off!

She lowered the cups from her lightly lip-sticked lips. “Do you like it saucy?

“Excuse me?!?”

“I asked Mr. Jeff to put sauce on mine. Sauce makes everything taste better to me. I could eat a good sauce all by itself — no meat necessary,” she laughed.

I looked at Jeff, who started chugging the water I gave him.

“Mom caught me a few times eating sauces right out of a bowl, and got so mad!”

I cut my eyes back to her, “Yes, I like sauce, but its lacking without my meat — meat that I’ve picked out and have taken the time to prepare. Nobody better mess with my meat.”

“Hey baby,” Jeff interrupted my staredown, “Didn’t you want a tattoo when you were young–ER — younger? Ria’s got two?”

“Ria?” I looked at him. As in ghonna-ria?

“My friends at college started calling me that,” she smiled. “Look, she turned around and held up her hair to show me an Ankh design at the nape of her neck. “You like it?”

“It’s nice,” I nodded.

“You really think so?”

I relaxed a little. Maybe she was just a bubbly, friendly girl. “Where’s the other?”

“Her butt.”

“Stop!” she hit Jeff’s shoulder, laughing. “I said I thought about getting one there. It’s on my foot; see?” She put her foot forward to show a rose tattooed on it.

“Pretty. Didn’t it hurt?”

“A little, but not really.” She was about to go on, but someone called her for a picture. She looked back as she went away, “Remember, I like it saucy.”

It was a full minute before Jeff acknowledged I was standing there looking at him. “What?!?”

I slapped his other shoulder, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Baby, I’m just grilling!”

“Right, Sauce Man.”

“Okay, yeah okay — THAT was her flirting with me! I clearly saw that.”

“Finally! But she couldn’t have been any more in your face with it.”

He chucked, “Yeah she could’ve!”

I pinched his butt — hard.

“Hey, what you doin’? Gonna make me burn my meat!”

“Your saucy meat?”

“My meat won’t be saucy until later,” he leaned in for a kiss.

“You think so, huh?”

“You gonna leave me hangin’ here? With dry meat?”

I looked at him, “You’re an idiot,” I laughed and kissed him. He grabbed me and gave me a deeper kiss. “Don’t set no bad examples out here in front of all these kids,” I smiled.

“We’s murry’d!”

I noticed Rihanna’s face in our direction, but I couldn’t see through her glasses to tell if she was looking at us. I kept looking at her as I rubbed Jeff’s butt where I had pinched him, then kissed his cheek before going inside. You’re daughter has some nice tattoos,” I said to Vivien.

“You think that nonsense is nice? Hmpf, I wouldn’t let her get any while she lived here, and look what she went and did as soon as she got away from here.”

“They’re tasteful at least; nothing outlandish.”

“Tattoos themselves are outlandish, and my wildchild has two!”

We finished getting the food on platters, and took it outside. It was inhaled! Vivien set aside plates for me and Jeff, and the three of us found a corner to watch the frenzy. I made sure to be in between Jeff and Vivien. Once the food was nearly gone, the kids started dancing to the music. One of Rihanna’s guy friends came over and pulled Vivien up, which didn’t take much coaxing. Soon after, another one came over and asked Jeff if he could dance with me.

“No bumping and grinding allowed,” Jeff winked at me.

“No what?” the guy asked.

I laughed as I got up, “Just behave yourself.”

No sooner than I was out there did one of her friends pull Jeff up. They showed us some new dances, and we showed them some old ones. Even though Vivien had been fantasizing about these guys inside, she didn’t do anything off the wall while she danced. Despite the fun we were having, I kept my eye on Rihanna. She kept moving closer to where we were, and was dancing with Jeff by the third song. I wasn’t having an issue with it, until she turned her butt to him. I thanked my partner, and got my husband away from her. We said our good-bys, to Vivien’s protestations, and went home.

Jeff was on me as soon as the door closed behind us! From behind me, he pulled my pants and panties down — making me stumble. He got me bostancı escort to my hands and knees, and drove into me.

Ignoring the fact that I was wet enough for him to go in so easily, I wondered how he got in so fast, “Did you take it out while we were walking?”

“Sure did,” he pumped.

I caught my breath, “Is this for Ria?”

“Is your wetness for whoever you were dancing with?”

I didn’t answer.

“Yeah, I got in with no foreplay, didn’t I?”

“Shut up!” I went down to my elbows after my first orgasm. Jeff was still going good after my second, so I put my head on my crossed hands. I heard him groan at the new angle, and felt him smack my ass, before we both finished. When he caught his breath, he pulled out. I got my shoes, panties, and shorts off, then went to the kitchen for something to drink. “So, was I Rihanna?” I poured a glass of my favorite wine.

Jeff stopped at the foot of the stairs, “What are you talking about?”

“Were you with Rihanna just now, in your head? You were awful intense.”

“You’re asking about here again?”

“Yes,” I leaned in the doorway.

“Why?”

“You don’t think about her, or even Vivien?”

“Why do you ask so much about who I think about?”

“I’m curious.”

“You’re insecure.”

“Do I have a reason to be?”

He looked at me, then turned and went upstairs. By the time I finished that glass, poured and drank another, he had the shower water running. By the time I came out of the shower, he was covered up sleep — but I know my husband.

I left my panties in the drawer, and climbed under the cover to snuggle up behind him. I pressed my naked body to his, and slid my hand over his hip. He usually sleeps without a shirt during the summer, and he usually sleeps without underwear after a shower — and this time was no different, despite our dust-up. I kissed his shoulder, and rubbed his half-erection. It wasn’t long before it was a full erection.

“What are you doing,” he grumbled.

“This,” I moved so I could pull him to his back and straddle him. “I love you, Jeff,” I whispered as I started moving on his erection. “I love you, Jeff.”

He groaned and rubbed his face to wake up more.

“I love you, Jeff,” I said a little more urgently.

“I love you too.”

“Then do it,” I rode harder.

“Do what?”

“Love me.”

“I do.”

“No,” I shook my head. “Love me, Jeff!” I grinded on him.

He groaned a couple more times, “I love you!”

“Love me, Jeff!”

“I do! What do you want?”

I rode harder, “I want you to love me, Jeff.”

“Oh shit! Damn! I love you!” his face contorted to my gyrations.

I rode even harder, “Love me, Jeff!”

“Shit!” he moved his hands to my dancing hips.

“Love me, Jeff!”

He moved his hands over my hips and thighs, “I love you!”

“You’re starting to,” I grinned evilly.

He tightened his grip on my hips.

“Yes! Love me, Jeff!”

He moved his hands up to my breasts and squeezed. As good as he felt inside me, I held back when I felt an orgasm getting close — even when he gave my nipples a pinch.

“That’s it!” I looked into his eyes and rode harder.

He squeezed harder, then moved his hands back to my hips and smacked both cheeks. The cold sting sent a charge through me, and I started riding harder. The bed was moving, I was sweating, and Jeff was grunting and groaning as he either pawed my tits, twisted my nipples, or smacked my ass. As hard as it was to keep my eyes open, I kept watching his face contort, and it made me grin more. I was working him over so good, he couldn’t keep his eyes open — let alone look at me. I was loving it, until I felt his finger push in my other hole.

“Hey!” I lost a bit of my control. He pushed a little further, and I almost let my orgasm slip. “Don’t do that!”

“Don’t love you?” he pushed in to his knuckle.

I lost my rhythm and my concentration,” Stop!”

“No,” he pushed his whole finger inside, and moved it around.

The orgasm erupted through me, making my body jerk and shake. Trying to make it stop only seemed to make it more intense. I fell over to Jeff’s chest, and let it run its course. “I love you, Jeff. Now get your finger out my ass.

He busted out laughing, and so did I. I winced as he worked it out, then made sure he kept it away from me.

While he went to wash his hand, I thought about how I had to trust that Vivien wasn’t in Jeff’s sights; Rihanna either. He was committed to me, even though that didn’t stop them from being overly friendly that whole summer, with their energetic waves, broad smiles, tight/short clothes. And apparently they didn’t care that they were flirting with the same man. How sick was that? If my mother were single, there’s no way I’d look twice at a man she was interested in. Eww!

I could see the freaks next door having plans to double-team Jeff; give him a little mother-daughter action. That’s a place I shouldn’t have gone, because once I had that image in my head I couldn’t get it out. It still bothered me that they didn’t respect me enough to not flirt with him, but from then on whenever I saw one of them, in my mind I saw the three of them in some combination. It got to the point that I thought it was funny. I had to hold back laughing when I saw the two of them together.

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