Just Being Neighborly

Then his back started to take on a different shape, arms still
straight, but his back curving, his hips moving toward her.

Penetration.

Withdrew, pushed, again and again and again.

Stopping for a minute, pulling at Lois's legs, getting them on his
shoulders,

bending her,

folding her, her knees almost pressed to her breasts. her feet
straight up,

fucking her!

Bill moved again, tightened the focus, so that there was no doubt,
that was a penis, moving in and out, the camera was documenting his
wife's fucking, being fucked.

It was -- fascinating, sort of repulsive, but hypnotic, watching that,
seeing this woman who was sitting beside me sharing sex with a hired
stranger in front of her husband.

Incredible!

"Like the video, Ed?" Her fingers were stroking my leg.

"Uh, Bill liked doing that, seeing that?"

"Oh, yeah, keep watching, you'll see. Don't you like it?"

"I guess, but. I couldn't do that, not me and Marsha, we'd never . .
."

"You told Marsha she could go to someone else for sex, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah. . ."

"Did you go somewhere else, too?"

"No, I wouldn't, unless, maybe, if Marsha..."

"If Marsha did, would you want to watch, like you watched me?"

"Uh, I don't know, uh.."

"Oh, look, look at the TV!"

Frank was moving faster, then started pushing, holding himself in her,
another thrust, another. I mean, if he wasn't coming it was an awfully
good fake!

"Isn't that sexy?"

"Yeah, yeah it is."

The Frank on the screen withdrew, stood up, let the camera see his
cock, softening.

"That was good," he said. He looked at the camera. "I gave you what
you wanted. Do you guys tip?"

The camera wobbled a bit, the focus zoomed back so most of the room
was visible.

The camera must have been on a tripod, because Bill walked into the
scene with his wallet in is hand. Lois was still on the bed, Frank was
pulling on his pants. Bill handed Frank some more money, and watched
as Frank gathered his stuff, pulled on his shoes, and left.

I heard Lois's voice on the TV. "Do it, Bill, I know you want to."

My God, the Bill on the screen pulled off his clothes, got on the bed
with his wife, he was going to have intercourse with her just after
that guy did!

I was wrong, that's not what happened, at least not at first.

Bill bent over Lois, and they kissed. She had not kissed Frank at all,
I realized.

Then there was movement, it looked like they each knew what the other
wanted. Lois pulled off the robe, pushed Bill's head to her breast.

And in a couple of minutes, pushed his head lower, to her belly.

Until they were in a classic 69, him on top, going down on her, while
she took him. Going down on her just after she had sex with that guy,
that Frank!

"Ed, be honest, I can see that you have a hard on. That video excites
you. Would you like it if Marsha made one like that?"

"Marsha wouldn't ever . .I looked at Lois. "Bill was, uh, . . ."

"Yes, he was going down on me."

"After you, uh..."

"Yes, after I had sex with that guy. Bill likes that."

I was confused, this was all new to me.

"I liked that guy eating me, Ed."

Somehow her robe had pulled partly open -- it was still tied at her
waist, but open from her neck, showing lots of cleavage, then it
tightened to almost closed at her waist where the belt was, and then
open again but twisted to the side, so I could see skin from her waist
and hip all the way down her leg.

"And I sure liked Bill doing that, after that Frank and I had sex. It
proved Bill liked it, too."

Her hand was stroking my leg.

"Ed, you told Marsha she could 'look outside the marriage,' remember?"

"Yeah, but she shouldn't have told you that."

"She said that you could have sex with someone else, too."

"Yes, but . . .."

"But nothing. What about, if Marsha actually did go out?"

"Marsha wouldn't, she doesn't enjoy sex that much."

"Yes she does, she said she just can't get you interested."

"I don't believe that," I told the woman sitting next to me.

"She does, I can prove it. Want proof?"

"How can you prove something like that?"

"What you watched was our second favorite video. This is our
favorite," Lois said, as she stood up and went to the VCR. It did its
clicking, the TV stopped showing Bill and Lois who were now coupling,
it showed the usual spasms when a tape is ejected, then Lois put a new
tape in.

Somehow Lois's robe stayed mostly closed as she came back to the sofa.

"Look at me," she demanded.

I did.

"Marsha is a normal woman, with normal needs. She told me you weren't
interested, and it was driving her nuts.

"Bill and me, we want to help the both of you. Bill's been helping
Marsha."

My mouth fell open, I was trying to say something.

"Marsha won't get to Hartford until tomorrow, Ed."

"What?"

"She's with Bill."

"Bill?"

"They're doing right now the same thing they did here when you were
away last week."

"What?"

"Wake up and smell the musk, Ed. You liked seeing me on video, didn't
you?"

"Uh, yeah."

"And you said you'd kind of like to see Marsha do that, too."

"Sort of said that, I guess."

"We thought---"

"We, what we?"

"We. Bill, and me, and your wife. We thought you needed a jolt. This
is the jolt.

"Watch."

The video began.

"I made this video, Ed. We did it this way so no one could be accused
of being sneaky or cheating."

The screen flickered as the VCR and TV struggled to communicate, then
came to life. It was this room, this sofa.

There were two figures on it: Bill, wearing a robe, Marsha was in a
dress -- a light summer dress, sort of a smock. I knew that dress! She
was wearing it this morning.

Lois's fingers were stroking my knee. "We taped it so no one could
deny what happened, and maybe so we could use it like this."

Marsha was speaking. "I trust you, both of you," she said, looking
from Bill to the camera.

"And?"

"And I really want to feel like a woman."

"So you told Lois?" Bill prompted.

"Yes, and she told you."

"And here we are."

"Here we are, yes."

Lois's hand was creeping up my leg. " Ed, is this something you want
to see?"

It must be like having a snake stare at you, you can't take your eyes
off it, it was hypnotic.

"Yes."

I felt the pressure of Lois's hand on my leg increase, but I couldn't
take my eyes off the screen.

The scene wobbled as the camera was adjusted, until it was just right.
The sofa filled the high definition screen from side to side, and the
frame was high enough to capture their feet and heads. Tripod and
focus adjustment", the analytical part of my mind told me, as Lois
came into the scene.

"I was a bad, bad girl, Ed, watch," the woman sitting next to me said,
as her image moved in front of the camera until she was sitting on the
sofa on the other side of Bill. The Lois on the screen was wearing the
same robe the Lois next to me was!

Bill had a happy smile on his face, he had his arms out along the
sofa, behind each of the women.

"I treat my man like this, Marsha," the videoed Lois said. "Come here,
lover!" she commanded, and pulled Bill to her -- they kissed.

"Now you do it, Marsha." Bill pulled at Marsha's shoulder, and there
was another kiss, a husband kissing someone else's wife, under his own
wife's supervision.

The Lois sitting beside me was staring at the screen too, her hand
moved further up my leg, until she was cupping me!

"Like it, Ed?"

I was speechless. Like what, being fondled? Seeing my neighbor kiss my
wife? I was liking everything!

"Are you upset?"

"No," I croaked, "not upset."

"You just watched Marsha kissing Bill. I'm going to treat you the same
way. Come here!"

She leaned to me, I to her, our lips met, and her hand's pressure
increased.

I liked the kiss, I liked being touched, but the TV -- that was
compelling!

That Lois was tugging at her husband's robe. "Help me, Marsha," that
Lois said.

The two women spread the robe.

Then Bill was sitting there, grinning, his arms along the back of the
sofa again, robe open, exposed.

Naked.

His cock poked out from between his outstretched legs, attracting my
wife's attention. She was staring at it -- at him.

"Just like that?" she asked.

"It's that simple, just like that," Lois said. "Why pretend?"

"Yes, why pretend?" my wife replied. She looked at the camera.
"This'll work, or it won't. It'll give my marriage life, or it's dead
anyway."

The Lois on the screen was talking. "Kiss him again, Marsha. Kiss him
while he's like that, that'll be really sexy. Kiss him and touch him
at the same time."

Bill used the arm he had along the sofa's back to pull my wife toward
him, he used his other hand to take hers, moved it to his crotch. Hand
met cock, lips met lips, all at the same time. I could see mouths
working, and my wife's hand fondling his cock.. It was a very serious
kiss, not a loving kiss, an erotic sexy kiss.

Made more so because Bill let her hand go, caressed her face.

I saw his fingers close to her lips,

saw her head turn, breaking the contact with his lips, kiss his
fingers instead.

Suck on his fingers!

I couldn't help myself -- Lois was caressing my crotch, my wife was
acting like a whore in a video -- it was close to an emotional
overload.

The Bill on the video was standing now, pulling my wife upright, too.

Somehow the Lois in the video was behind my wife..

Somehow both of them were lifting her dress.

And she helped, she raised her arms, the dress went up, turning inside
out, covering her face, then up over her arms,

then off.

Marsha looked so vulnerable, so exposed, standing there in high cut
panties, a little bra.

"Just like that?" her image asked. "You do things like this, just like
that?"

Bill shrugged off his robe. "It's that easy, Marsha. Take off your bra
for me. For us."

My shy Marsha, the Marsha I thought wasn't interested in sex, that
Marsha, reached behind her, did that thing women do, and I saw the
back straps hanging free, the bra being supported only by its shoulder
straps.

Bill moved closer, kissed at her neck. The Lois in the video moved
Marsha's straps from her shoulders, down her arms, and Bill's head and
lips followed the material as it slid off, until he was at her breast,
bending from the waist, suckling at my wife's breast.

The high definition TV was sharp enough so that I could see Marsha's
nipple, the one not in Bill's mouth, was erect. She was liking this!

The Lois on the screen was busy, pulling cushions from the sofa. Oh --
that sofa, the one I was sitting on, converted into a bed. That Lois
was pulling at it, unfolding it, while Bill enjoyed my wife's breast.

Somehow they got turned around, somehow the sofa that turned into a
bed got behind Marsha, and somehow she was sitting, Bill still in
front of her, but now kneeling, between her knees, still fastened to
her tit!

"Like it, Marsha?" the videoed Lois asked.

Marsha wasn't talking, but the expression on her face said everything
that needed saying.

"She did like it, Ed," the Lois sitting next to me said.

"Bill and me, we're oral people," the Lois next to me said, as the
image of her husband moved on the screen, moving down, releasing my
wife's breast, down, lower than her diaphragm, down, to her navel.

Down, until he was at the hem of her panties.

"You gotta help, Marsha," his voice said, and Marsha, my unsexy Marsha
lifted her hips, bringing her crotch closer to Bill's face, while her
hands pushed at her panties, pushing them off her hips.. Her legs
moved -- I had no idea she could move that gracefully -- so that both
were to Bill's side, then she extended them, toes pointed, and pushed
those panties to her knees.

The Lois on screen took them from there, took them and moved them down
her legs, over her calves, her ankles, her feet, and off.

My wife, nude now, was sitting, legs together to the side, with Bill
kneeling in front of her.

"That's the way, Marsha," that Bill said, and Marsha moved again --
how could she be so graceful? -- moved one leg up, in front of Bill,
and down again, so that again Bill was in front of her, between her
legs.

"Much better, much nicer," he said, bending forward, his head moving
between her legs, blocking my view, but the expression on Marsha's
face didn't leave me imagining what he was doing. Her face first
showed hesitation, then her mouth went open, her head went back, her
tongue was wetting her lips, and her body was moving in little spasms,
as Bill, that neighbor Bill, the neighbor I trusted, went down on my
wife!

The Lois next to me was busy, no longer content with stroking my penis
through my trousers. She was pulling at my shirt.

"I hate it when guys just open their pants, I like them to be as naked
as I am," she said.

Somehow I knew enough to lift my arms, and she pulled my shirt off --
I resented missing that few seconds of activity on the screen, but
stared while my wife enjoyed the more than neighborly ministrations
she was getting.

"Come on, help me here," Lois said to me, pulling at my belt.

It took me just a moment to get my belt open, and to push down at my
pants and briefs, until I was as nude as her husband was with my wife.

The Lois on the screen, and the Lois next to me both stood.

Both pulled at their robe.

Both let it slide down their arms, to the floor.

And both were naked.

The videoed Bill, the Bill who at this moment was probably enjoying my
wife in Providence, got up from in front of her, crawled on to the
unfolded bed while Marsha sat on its edge.

She looked to her side, over her shoulder, at this naked man laying
there on his side, waiting for her to move next to him. I wanted to
see her do that, to move next to him, I wanted to see her submit to
him, to let him fuck her.

I wanted to see that.

I didn't.

That Marsha, the one sitting there, looked at that man, the man whose
face was wet with her, the man who had just spent minutes sucking her
breast, sucking her cunt, while his wife watched, encouraged him --
them -- to do that.

That Marsha, that woman who was my wife, didn't turn, didn't move up
the bed and spread her legs as I wanted her to. No, not that Marsha.

That Marsha looked at Bill, at his body.

At his erection.

That Marsha turned a little,

bent from her waist a little,

bent towards that penis,

took it into her hand,

and into her mouth.

She was giving him oral sex, a blow job, right there, in front of my
eyes!

Her lips, the ones I casually kissed just this morning, were around
his cock!

Just as the real life Lois's lips were on mine.

The Lois in front of me stopped for a minute, looked at the screen to
see what I was watching.

"I was very very bad, Ed, you'll see," she said to me, bending over my
cock again.

The Lois on the screen moved onto the bed, behind the sitting, twisted
Marsha, moving her, adjusting her, until she was prone, her head still
in Bill's lap, her body turned, almost on her side, still pleasuring
Bill.

"I'm very oral," the Lois sucking at me said, but she didn't have to
say that, I could see that she was, could feel that she was,

then I understood more fully, because the Lois on the screen was
bending over my wife's hip, her lips were on her hip,

until they moved, and Marsha did, too, tuning, lifting her upper leg.

There was a final move on the screen, Bill moving too, and the image
was of three bodies, a triangle, each head buried in the vee of the
next body's legs.

The sensations I was feeling, the ones the Lois in front of me was
causing, were too urgent to control -- I knew it, so did she. She
pushed at me until I was on my back, she climbed over me, and I
couldn't watch the TV anymore, I had to watch this woman squat over
me, lower herself, until I felt that other encompassing feeling, a
feeling I hadn't had with my own wife for a long time, that feeling of
my cock being in that wonderful, warm, wet place in a woman, feeling
those little tremors a woman has as she surrounds a penis.

We fucked.

At some point I looked at the screen, to see Bill over my wife, to see
Bill moving in her, on her,

but that didn't hold my attention.

My attention was controlled by the woman on me, watching her move,
watching her lift up, seeing my cock come from her, then seeing her
lower herself on it.

As we fucked.

"Sex is fun, Ed, you have to do it more often."

"It'll prove to Marsha that you love her."

"And it's fun."

"And you can do it with us, too."

"It's fun!"

The TV went black, that tape was over.

And I, the guy who wasn't interested in sex, was satiated with it.
Overloaded with it. Thinking. Feeling. My wife, with Bill. With Bill
and Lois. Me, with Lois.

It was fun.

I lasted longer than I thought possible, lasted longer with Lois than
I do with my wife. Wanted to last longer, didn't want it to end
quickly the way I usually did.

The the things going on in my mind, of Bill, of Lois, of Marsha, were
too much. I exploded.

Later, after Lois said "No, you can't stay all night, the kids, no,
you can't sleep here," after that, somehow, I got back to our house,
it wasn't even midnight, but I got back to our house, knowing
everything had changed.

Somehow I got to bed.

I had enough left to be stoking myself, hardening myself, thinking of
what I just did, of what I just saw, of what my wife might be doing,
exciting myself.

The phone rang. It never rings this late.

"Hello?"

A familiar soft voice said "Honey, are we all right? Did it work? Do
we have a marriage?"

I had been in overload, hadn't thought about the consequences of the
night, of what I did, of what she did, what she was doing. Hadn't
though about it consciously, anyway. But I must have thought about it
on some level because I heard myself say "Come home soon, Marsha,
don't stay away until the weekend. I need you here."