Who Was It? (mf)
By OneIdleHand
Hayley had been pulling weeds from her flower garden when the
moving truck pulled in to the house next door. The house had
been sold a month earlier and had been vacant for the past two
weeks. Their previous neighbors had been nice enough, but no
common interests, other than kids of similar ages, had kept the
relationship pleasant but superficial.
Hayley had hoped that the new neighbors would also have kids, and
that the would stay at home during the day so that they
could do things together.
She shortly realized, however, that the size of the U-Haul
indicated that the new neighbors were probably moving in from an
apartment, and that the amount of furniture probably meant that
there were not any kids. As some friends, apparently, of the
owners helped moved the furniture and boxes into the house, she
walked up to the guy that she presumed was the husband. He was
about 6'2", about 30 years old, with brown hair, blue eyes, and
an athletic build. As evidenced by the weights, bicycles, golf
clubs, and other sporting equipment temporarily placed in the
driveway, she knew that he was active physically.
She introduced herself, and he said that his name was Craig. In
the course of discussion, she found out that he was a
pharmaceutical salesman and often would be out-of-town. She
asked if his worked, and he indicated that she was between
jobs, as she had to quit to care for her that lived in Texas.
As airfare costs between North Carolina and Texas were
substantial, they had not been meeting often, and she probably
wouldn't be back permanently for several more months until her
mom recovered from her illness.
A week later, Craig rang the doorbell and introduced his wife,
Kim. She was in town for the weekend to help get the house
sorted and basically make a list of "honey, do" items for Craig
to complete while she was away. They also met Hayley's husband,
Steven, as well as their kids, and it seemed like they would be
enjoyable neighbors once Kim was able to return. Kim was about
5'5", with black hair, blue eyes, slender, and with the kind of
smile that could light up the room. Hayley knew that she was the
type that her husband found very attractive.
Over the next several weeks, Steven and Craig got together often,
with Steven helping him around the house as he moved furniture,
painted, hung shelves, and other projects. As Steven had helped
unpack, he had found several photos of Kim in a beauty pageant,
and found out that she had been first runner-up as Miss Texas.
Craig and Kim had only several months previous, and most
of Kim's furniture was still at her apartment in Texas, where
they had met. Craig had been transferred to Charlotte, causing
the move. But, because Kim's was ill, they had never been
able to move their belongings together as she had been needed at
home, basically since they had returned from their honeymoon.
Steven had said to Craig that it must be tough to be and
yet be living apart. Craig was comfortable enough with Steven to
hint that they had used letters and phone calls, and lately home
videos, to keep each other excited about their next reunion.
When Steven told Hayley this, she wondered how much Steven had
shared about their own sex lives.
One late afternoon while Steven was out of town, Hayley saw Craig
mowing his yard. It was hot outside, and he was wearing long gym
shorts and tennis shoes. His skin was tanned, and she was
mesmerized watching the rippling muscles in his arms, shoulders,
and torso as he pushed his mower around the yard. He was
sweating, and his body looked wonderfully slick as he glistened
in the sunlight. The sweat had dampened his gray shorts along
his waist, seeming to form a dark triangle pointing to the
conspicuous bulge between his legs. She suddenly returned to
her senses when Craig turned a corner, and she looked up to find
him returning her gaze. She had not realized that she was
staring, and she quickly waved, looked away and began planting a
flat of pansies by her doorstep.
A short time later, she went to her bathroom to shower, and
decided to take a bath instead. Her thoughts quickly left the
"Reader's Digest" article she was reading to the physique she had
been watching earlier. Noiselessly, she brought herself to
climax, her fingers between her legs, amazed that she had been in
the tub long enough for the water to turn cool. She dressed,
cooked supper and fed the kids, helped them with their homework,
and tucked them in.
Her husband called from Nashville, where he was working, and she
realized she missed more than his presence. Her general mood was
quickly perceived, and they made an "appointment" for each other
in two more nights, when he would return.
At bedtime, she changed into a light nightgown and climbed into
bed. Still warmed by her conversation with her husband, she
again began to play with herself when she was interrupted by her
dog, a Labrador, jumping on the bed. Clearly, he needed to go
outside, and she had forgotten to take him.
Their yard was not fenced, but her dog, Jessie, would do his
business if she stood on the patio. He wandered off slightly
while she stood watching, noticing fireflies getting higher in
the trees. Jessie returned after a couple of minutes, and as she
held the door open, she saw a light from Craig's screened back
porch, apparently his laptop, although she could not see any
indication of him, because his lights were off. As she turned
to go in the door, she realized that the yard spotlight from her
other neighbor's house was on. If he had been on the back
porch, he probably could have seen right through her nightgown.
As she closed the door and ran up the steps, wishing for a home
with privacy, she realized that she was incredibly turned on, and
picked up where she left off before the had so rudely
interrupted her.
She didn't see Craig the next day, and she wasn't sure if she
would be embarrassed or not if and when she did. But, she was
very happy when her husband returned the following afternoon.
The sex that evening was much hotter than usual, with her husband
struggling to keep up with her needs. Afterwards, he asked her
if there was a reason for her sensual state.
Running her fingers up and down his softened shaft, hoping for a
second round, she realized, she began to describe what was going
on in her head, as they had shared fantasies before.
"Well, I was out working in the Garden Wednesday afternoon, and I
sat on the front porch steps just to sit a minute and drink some
water, because it was hot. I heard Craig start up his lawnmower,
so I looked his way. He's got a nice body, you know, and he
wasn't wearing a shirt, so I looked. He has that small waist and
he was wearing tight gym shorts. It's not that he was turned on,
or anything, but I could tell there was a good-sized lump in his
shorts. I'm afraid he caught me looking, but I don't know for
how long."
Steven replied, "So, you were turned on by our new neighbor, and
then, what?"
"Nothing. I finished with the flowers and went inside and
bathed." She decided not to tell him about the possible
nightgown view.
"Come on," Steven said, "I know you. What, you climbed into bed
and masturbated thinking about him?"
"No, actually, I was still in the tub."
"So, what were you fantasizing?"
"Oh, nothing specific about Craig. I don't even know him,
really. I just imagined what it might be like with another guy
who happened to look like him. It wasn't like `cheating' was
included. I kind of had the idea that you knew, or that you were
there." She could feel Steven's cock hardening in her hand.
Steven moved behind her back, lying on their sides, and inserted
himself between her legs. He now could whisper in her ear.
"So, what was it like? Was it a fast, hard thing? Or was it a
slow screwing?"
The feel of Steven's cock in her and the lingering fantasy
in her mind combined to form words that were said without
thinking. "Oh, it was slow, like he knew he had one opportunity,
and he wanted it to last. I wish there were a way of having sex
with someone you knew without knowing you were. If that makes
any sense."
Steven removed his hand from her breast, and placed it over her
eyes, saying "SSShhhhhussshhh" as he increased the tempo of his
thrusts. Hayley quickly picked up on the idea that he was
pretending to blindfold her, and her sex went into high gear with
the thought of a nameless (well wait, he had a name, Craig!)
stranger screwing her cunt, with the comfort in her passion that
her husband knew about it.
By the time they both came, both were exhausted, but knew that
the fantasy had really set Hayley's sex drive skyrocketing. She
indicated her desire to repeat the fantasy, and soon.
The next day, Steven had again helped Craig, this time moving an
interior wall, which became a major project. Hayley had worked
outside, disappointed that there was no sight of "her men." That
night, Steven was watching a baseball game on when he heard
the bath water drain from the tub upstairs. He went upstairs,
found Hayley dried but naked, and led her down from their bedroom
into their den. Hayley smelled wonderful with a floral
fragrance, and as the heavy petting began, her sexual juices on
his fingers added to the aroma.
"Remember what you asked for last night?"
She nodded. He raised her off the couch, and removed a blindfold
from beneath the pillow. Placing it on her face, he led her to
the kitchen, to the end of the kitchen counter. He placed a soft
blanket on the countertop, and bent her over the counter. He
pulled her arms behind her back, and fastened them together with
handcuffs, not too tightly, but tight enough to ensure that she
was secure. The blindfold they had played with before; she
hadn't seen the handcuffs.
"Now, just wait there. I've got to go to the garage to get
something." She heard him open the door to their basement, where
their garage was, and heard him descend the steps.
About a minute later, she heard the front door of the house open.
She hoped it was her husband, realizing that, bent over as she
was, her naked was pointing towards the front door.
The sound of his shoes in the hallway sounded heavy in an
otherwise quiet house. She heard him unzip his jeans. A hand
reached under her and felt her warm wet cunt. His rock hard cock
thrust into her, as he held her pelvis with both hands, rocking
her backwards to meet each stroke. He continued thrusting
noiselessly, she supposed to keep this "anonymous" fuck
anonymous. By their quickening speed, she could tell that he was
about to cum. Being mindful of the kids asleep upstairs, she was
straining not to scream with the feel of his massive cockhead
plunging in and out of her. Knowing that her husband was doing
her fantasy right, she responded in her orgasm, with "Yes, give
me that cock! Craig, I love your cock so much!"
She felt him quickly withdraw, and then felt his hot fluids shoot
across her butt and up her back. Her heart was pounding in her
ears, but she could tell that he was breathing heavily. The
excitement of her need wearing off, she was aware that the cock
that had been within her felt good, of course, but somehow
slightly different. Thinking, and hoping, that the anonymous
fantasy was the cause, she was now looking for some clues that it
was her husband, or, more specifically, that it wasn't Craig.
She felt his hands wipe the from her back, then he
straightened her up and rubbed it on her breasts, slowly, as if
making a painting. That was something her husband would not have
done. He would have grabbed her and pinched her nipples.
The nervous excitement that it was possible that this was Craig
(surely her husband would never set this up!), she began to
respond to the fondling of her breasts. As she began
deeper breaths with her mouth open, she very much wanted to be
fucked again, but at the same time, to cover herself up from
embarrassment. She could tell that her mystery lover had moved
to her side, where he could see her face, breasts, and cunt. He
grabbed her shoulders to lower her back down, so that she was
again bent over the counter. She heard him pull his jeans up,
re-zip them, and felt him take one last plunge into her cunt,
this time with a finger. He wiped the juices on her butt, and
then he retreated for the front door. As he opened the door, she
added, "You can fuck me anytime, Craig," hoping that it just had
to be Steven, and knowing that her playing along would likely
entice Steven into repeating this fantasy again. But, with her
hands still secured, she had no way of moving her blindfold to
try to get a parting glance at him.
A minute or so later, she heard her husband come up the stairs
from the basement, and shut the door behind him. "Look at you;
you're a mess!"
Just to light him up further, she said, "Yeah, Craig's much
better at fucking me than you are."
There was a strange silence, then he moved forward to remove her
handcuffs. As she began to straighten he placed a hand on her
back to keep her bent over. She heard him lower his sweatpants,
then he slipped his cock between her legs. He had recovered
quickly, and as he fucked her, she forgot about removing the
blindfold, needing her hands to steady herself against the
countertop. It wasn't long before he emptied himself inside her,
and as he pulled out, she could feel the wetness between her
legs.
The next morning, as she was looking into the bathroom mirror
before taking a shower, she noticed the dull reflection of dried
cum on her breasts, and, turning, on her butt. Really, the
amount of on her, and in her, had been tremendous. She
couldn't stop her alarming thought that maybe it really was Craig
that had first fucked her. That would explain why Steven had
been hard so quickly after coming from the garage. And, come to
think of it, "Craig" had worn some sort of shoes with heels, by
the sound on the hardwood floor. Steven had been wearing tennis
shoes when he came in. And Steven hadn't worn jeans, but she had
heard a zipper. This wasn't beyond her clever husband's ability
to fake. Really, it was a job well done. It just had to be a
job well done.
After she showered, she dried off and found her husband, down in
the den, who was reading. She asked Steven, "It was you, both
times, right?"
His grin, combined with his slow, lustful look that passed over
her robed body, did nothing to comfort her. Neither did his
reply. "Why don't you ask Craig?"
Comments and suggestions desired, especially from those who have
shared it with their spouses. It would only take a few moments
to make an author very happy...
E-mail to: OneIdleHand@hotmail.com
See my other at www.asstr.org/~IdleHand
(case sensitive)
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(c) Copyright 2000
This work is copyrighted to the author, with all rights
reserved. -- This work may be archived and displayed on
non-commercial web sites without permission, but please
do not remove the author name or e-mail address.
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