Neighbors Across The Street

It had just started to snow when I left work. I only had to brush about a quarter of an inch of the early December whiteness off my car before I could start my trek home through the Friday night traffic. Unfortunately, the light snow thickened quickly bringing my half hour commute to a virtual standstill more times than I cared for. My wife was both happy she was in Florida and missing the commute, and sad that she was missing the snow, both of us sure that the changeable Missouri weather would clear it away before she could get home the end of next week.

I made my way down the dead-end road we lived on, the car tires crunching through the almost three inches of undisturbed snow well past dinner time. I parked in the garage and stopped to shovel the sidewalk before it got completely dark and the new snow froze into a solid block of ice. With that task done, I headed inside to build a nice big fire in the wood stove and push the winter chill from my aging bones. At fifty I didn’t take the cold as well as I used to, and even as short time as it took to shovel the walk was enough chill me.

With a TV dinner cooked, a roaring fire pumping heat out of the stove, and an old western on the tube, I settled into my recliner for a relaxing but lonely evening. The wood stove heated the house nicely, but also pushed the temperature in the living room well into the eighties with a fresh fire roaring in the steel chamber. As I sat in just a pair of shorts and a light weight t-shirt, munching on the TV dinner, I lamented that my wife’s new promotion involved as much time away as it did, but then everything in life has its price. In this case, time away from each other in exchange for a challenge she was thoroughly enjoying. Oh yeah, the six figure income doesn’t hurt either.

The movie was almost over when I was startled by the doorbell. I groused to myself about the interruption just at the climax of the movie and climbed from my recliner to pad toward the door, pausing just long enough to slip on my slippers.

I pulled the door open, the cold wind easily pushing through the thin athletic shorts and t-shirt I had on.

“Trina?” I asked in surprise, looking at the young lady that lived across the cul-de-sac, her barely year old little girl in her arms, the two of them wrapped in a blanket, neither appearing to be dressed for the weather.

“Michael! Thank goodness you’re home!” she said in her thick Slavic accent. “The fire alarm in our house is going off and won’t stop, but I don’t see any smoke!”

“Well. Get in here before you freeze,” I said , opening the door farther. “Is Gregor looking at it?” I queried, referring to her husband. The two were recent immigrants from Romania; Gregor a repair specialist in wind turbine equipment. He made very good money climbing the hundreds of feet up the towers to make repairs, but the job had him gone more than home.

“No. He in Kansas again. You look at for me?”

“Sure. Let me grab a coat and boots,” I answered as I closed the door behind her.

“Oh. Thank you! I really don’t know what we do without all your help!” she said as she followed me into the living room.

“No problem. Just make yourself at home while I check things out,” I answered as I rummaged in the closet for my insulated muck boots. Over the last two years I’d become her emergency help on a number of occasions. While my wife and I had only had them over for dinner a couple of times , I’d talked to Trina on a regular basis out front while she was on one of the many walks she took.

I practically ran across to their house, the wind damn cold on my bare legs. It suddenly made me wonder how women wore skirts in this kind of weather. When I walked in the front door I was assaulted by the raucous squalling of not one but at least half a dozen smoke detectors. It took several moments to identify which of the networked alarms was the offending culprit. “Damn,” I muttered as I looked at the carbon monoxide detector, flashing 352 at me. I didn’t stay long before jogging back to my house.

“It’s not a smoke detector. It’s carbon monoxide,” I said as I peeled my coat off. I stopped mid motion and stared at her, sitting on the sofa with the blanket hanging on her shoulders and her little girl Miya laying on her lap. Under the blanket she had on a semi sheer nightgown that was short enough to leave her entire long slender legs bare below where her daughter lay sleepily, and even a portion of her butt. My eyes were drawn to her chest, and her dark areola, easily discernible through the thin material. Her breasts weren’t large, but the b or maybe c cup mounds looked plenty large on her petite frame.

“Carbon monoxide?” she asked, dragging my brain back to reality.

“Yeah. It’s a poisonous gas.”

“Poisonous? Oh lord!”

“Yeah. Maybe furnace. Better call the fire department. They can check it out safely.”

After a quick call to 911, the fire trucks arrived. Two hours later they declared the house safe, though with the faulty furnace turned off. There Anadolu Yakası Escort wasn’t any way she was getting anyone out tonight to work on it, so I offered her the guest room for the night. I showed her the room and put out some fresh towels in the guest bath before returning to the living room to find her again sitting without the blanket, her nightgown pulled up over her right breast to nurse her daughter.

“I should probably leave you alone to do that.”

“Oh. Don’t be silly. This is your house. Besides, I’m not bashful about my boobs anymore.”

“You’re sure?” I asked, standing in front of my recliner, only half a dozen feet from her.

“Of course! Sit down. It be fine!” she answered with a smile.

I sat back down with a shrug and turned the TV to the late night news. I tried not to stare, but couldn’t stop myself from looking as her daughter unlatched from her right breast, leaving it completely exposed. As she moved her from one to the other, she lifted the night gown above her left breast, exposing not only both breasts, but as she moved her daughter, revealing that the nightgown was all she had on.

I tried to focus on the news program while her daughter nursed on her left breast, but couldn’t help but notice that her free right hand had slipped between her slightly spread legs. Her eyes were closed and she let out a soft moan as her fingers moved between her legs. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my dick from hardening and bulging my shorts out obscenely.

“Oh god,” she mumbled softly as she sat stock still, her only motion the slight trembling of her legs.

I had to say I was surprised that she had just fingered herself to orgasm sitting only a long arm’s length away from me on my sofa. She looked over at me a little guiltily, her eyes dropping to my bulging shorts.

“Sorry,” she whispered softly, clearly embarrassed at being caught doing that. Sometimes when she nurses she get me so, how you say, turned on? That I can’t help it.”

“Um. Okay,” I answered, not sure what to say.

“Let me go put her on bed. She’s almost asleep,” she said as she pushed herself up off the sofa. She turned to walk away, the nightgown still hooked above her breasts, leaving her ass completely bare as she walked toward the hallway, her fat round pussy lips flashing into view with each step. I waited until she’d disappeared down the hall before sticking my hand down my shorts to resettle things.

She walked back down the hall toward me, the little nightgown barely long enough to cover the juncture of her legs, her tuft of dark curls showing through as clearly as her areola and hard nipples. “It a bit embarrassing when that happens,” she said after sitting down, her eyes fixed on the TV instead of looking at me. “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

“Um. No. I mean, maybe a little.”

“If you’d rather, I can nurse her in the other room.”

“Uuuu. No. It’s fine,” I answered, having a hard time taking my eyes off of her body. “Does that happen a lot?”

She looked over at me and down to my clearly outlined dick. “Does that?”

“I really can’t control it,” I answered a little defensively.

“Same here,” she said with the slightest of a crooked smile on her lips. “So now you know my secret. I hate to nurse in public anymore because I can no stop it from happening. Sometimes I even, um, climax with just her nursing.”

“Wow. That’s gotta be tough.”

“It is. Can I tell you a secret?”

“I thought you just did.”

“Another secret.”

“Okay,” I answered hesitantly.

“Sometimes after she nurses, I’m still so turned on I have to do it again.”

“Oh?”

“Uh huh. When Gregor is home it make for some great sex.”

“I bet it does.”

“It does. But unfortunately he gone a lot.”

“I know that problem. Nancy is gone a lot too.”

“Makes it hard, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,”

“I have a box of toys I use. Some dildos and vibrators and such. I don’t suppose you need that kind of thing. Do you?” she asked, her eyes clearly staring at my hard-on, which simply refused to go down, and with the sudden thought of her playing with her pussy with a dildo, I could feel it throbbing in my shorts.

“Ummmm. Not exactly, no,” I answered, suddenly feeling more than a little embarrassed. “Is that your secret?”

“No. Not exactly. The secret is that I have a favorite. It’s a vibrating dildo about seven inches long and kind of fat,” she said as she abruptly turned and sat on the edge of the sofa.

“I see.”

“It’s named Michael,” she blurted out suddenly, starting to blush almost as soon as she said it.

“Oh. I see.”

We were both silent for long seconds, staring at the TV but not paying any attention to what was on. “Do you remember that time you came and fixed that shower head for me?”

“Yeah.”

“I took it off on purpose.”

“You did?”

“Uh huh. I planned on letting my towel slip while you put it back on. But you fixed it so fast I not have Pendik Escort enough time to get my courage up.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not sure what I have done anyway.”

“Oh.”

“So do you want to know why my favorite is called Michael?”

“Okay.”

“Because you always rescue me.”

“I see.”

“So I have some little fantasies where you rescue me and I end up naked and you make me come.”

“Trina, are you suggesting that we…,”

“No. Definitely not! I’d never ask you to cheat on your wife,” she said quickly.

“Okay. That’s good.”

“But here we are again, me getting rescued. I certainly didn’t plan this, but here I am, almost naked, and there you are with a hard-on.”

“Trina. I’m not going…”

“I’m not asking you to,” she interrupted. “But I was wondering if you’d do me one much smaller favor.”

“Such as?”

“Let me see it?”

“Let you see it?”

“Uh huh. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me look at it. I’ll even get all the way naked and you can watch me.”

“Watch you?”

“While I come.”

“You want me to just let you look at my dick while you masturbate?”

“Sound silly when you put it that way.”

“Kinda,” I agreed. Neither of us made a sound as we sat, each with our own thoughts. “Just look?”

“Just look,” she said with a nod.

I took a nervous breath and pushed out of my chair. Before I could allow myself second thoughts, I pushed my shorts down and stepped out of them. I skimmed off my t-shirt, trying not to think of how embarrassing it would be if anyone found out what I was doing. I sat back down, completely naked, my hard dick sticking up like a pole from my lap.

“Wow,” she said quietly as she stood up. She pulled the nightgown over her head, leaving her as naked as I was. She took a step closer and whispered, “It is bigger.”

“Bigger?”

“Than my toy,” she said, stepping closer and leaning part way over my lap. “Can I touch it? Just for a second?”

“Just for a second,” I agreed, suddenly realizing that if she wanted to do more I was going to have a hard time refusing. She reached her right hand to my dick and closed her hand around it. She moved her body around to the side of my chair and lifted her left leg, resting her knee on the arm of the chair. Her right hand slipped between her legs and started to stroke over and between her full round pussy lips, her hand on my dick moving up and down, her delicate hand wrapping around my mushroom head with each stroke.

“God. It is so big,” she whispered as she stroked me. I could smell her arousal as the fingers between her legs became slick with her juices. I watched her fingers curl up and push deep into her own pussy, little moans and groans escaping her. I could feel my own orgasm build as she pushed her leg off the arm of the chair and across my lap, pushing more of her body over mine. She changed her grip on my dick to allow her hand to point my hard-on toward her wet lips, my head now only a couple short inches away from her wet pussy. She moved her fingers from her pussy and pushed her body forward, closer to me, until she could rub the tip of my head between her lips, using it to tease her clit.

“Oh fuck. Gonna come,” she moaned as her legs started to tremble. My shaft quickly grew slick with the juices leaking from her pussy, her hand spreading them up and down my shaft as she stroked me and at the same time rubbed the tip of my mushroom head between her wet lips and across her hard little clit. I could feel my own orgasm building, but couldn’t tear my eyes from my dick slipping back and forth between her lips.

“Oh damn!” I grunted loudly as I belated realized my body was about to unload on her. I was so intent on watching her that I failed to see my own climax grow to this level, or I did and my mind had other plans for me. I did my best to hold still as my body tried to lift and buck my cock toward her pussy, shot after shot of cum spewing up between her lips only to leak down over my head and shaft.

“Guess I do more than look,” she said apologetically as she let go of my cum covered shaft and moved away from me. “Sorry,” she added with a weak smile before walking away, the guest bath door closing behind her.

I sat silently until she left the bathroom and the guest room door quietly clicked closed. Only then did I head to my own room and climb in bed, still naked. I was torn with a lot of mixed feelings. Technically I could consider what I did cheating. At the same time I was arguing with myself that I didn’t because we hadn’t actually had sex and I didn’t really do anything but sit there. I was pretty sure how my wife would look at it, even if she hadn’t done anything like that with me in years. Hopefully she wouldn’t find out about this one small transgression.

I woke to the sound of Miya crying. Light was already filtering in around the edges of the curtains. I climbed out of bed and looked out at the thick blanket of snow coating the Kurtköy Escort ground and the small flakes still gently wafting toward the ground from the thick clouds above. I pulled on a robe and padded barefoot to the living room to load the wood stove, an almost continuous chore in the cold winter months.

I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of Trina sitting in my recliner, a bath towel spread across the seat under her bare bottom. She had her legs splayed wide, hanging one over each arm of the chair. Miya lay across her partially reclined body, nestled against one breast, her tiny hand pushing and grabbing Trina’s other clearly full breast, little dribbles of her milk leaking from her nipple. Trina’s free hand was below Miya, her fingers stroking up and down her clearly wet pussy lips. As I stood and watched, I could feel my cock growing harder by the second. I couldn’t help but reach down and give my suddenly firm member a few of the strokes it was demanding.

I stood watching her play with herself, her hips starting to rock in time with the slow sliding strokes of her fingers, as she moved them up and down her teenage looking pussy.

“Please fuck me Michael!” she begged in a whisper. “Stop teasing me and push it in!” With her eyes closed, I was pretty sure she was unaware that I was standing there watching and her request was aimed at some fantasy me in her mind. “Yes. Push it in my cunt!” she moaned as first one and then a second finger pushed deep into her pussy. In and out she plunged her fingers, her hips keeping time. She mumbled something in a language I didn’t even begin to understand moments before her whole body jerked and stiffened.

“Oh fuck!” I grunted in surprise as a stream of clear fluid squirted toward me from her pussy, its arc making it fly nearly as far as the huge squirt of my own cum as I stood with my cock in my hand and my robe inexplicably open. I was so engrossed in the sight in front of me that I had lost myself into the fantasy that it was my cock inside her, my hand stroking my own shaft toward climax with her.

She opened her eyes and stared as we again squirted together, our individual gushes landing on the floor only feet apart.

“I’m sorry,” I grunted, trying to close my robe around my still squirting cock. I stood there breathing heavily, feeling incredibly embarrassed for long silent seconds before I could make myself move. “Just needed to put more wood on the stove!” I said awkwardly as I walked past her. My robe spread apart once again as I opened the stove and put both hands to work stuffing logs into the firebox. “I didn’t mean to spy on you,” I added as I squatted in front of the stove to poke the coals and bring life back to the fire.

“It’s okay. I thought you were still in bed or I’d have done this in my room.”

“Well. Um. I’ll make some breakfast as soon as I get showered,” I said as I stood and closed the firebox door. I turned to walk past and felt her reach out and grab my robe, stopping me.

“Michael. It’s alright, really,” she said quietly. “You know, you don’t have to wear this. I mean we’ve seen each other naked now.” She pulled gently on the robe, clearly trying to coax it off of me. I started to protest and stopped, letting her pull it until it slid off my shoulder. “I know you like my boobs. I’ve seen how you look at them last night,” she said as she reached for my hand. She gently pulled my hand to her still full breast, placing my palm on the warm soft orb. “You can feel,” she whispered as I gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I shouldn’t,” I whispered back as I felt some of her milk express onto my palm as I squeezed.

“I don’t think it hurt anything to have little feel,” she said as her hand closed around my mostly flaccid dick. “Does it?”

“Um. I guess not,” I answered, not really sure if I should be doing this at all.

She let go of my dick when Miya unlatched. She quickly moved and resettled her on the full breast I had just been holding.

As soon as Miya had started nursing on her right breast, she found my hand and pulled it gently down, coaxing me to bend over in order to reach as she pulled my hand down past her breast and between her legs. “You should touch this too,” she cooed softly as she pressed my fingers against her wet pussy. “Oh yes!” She practically gasped as I let my fingers press between her firm full lips.

“I don’t know how something that big managed to come out of this,” I whispered as I pressed one finger into her hot wet tunnel, her vaginal walls clinging to my finger.

“She wasn’t all this big when she came out,” she said breathlessly as I stroked my finger in and out of her a few times. “You could make me come again.”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

“Yesssss,” she hissed softly. “Please!”

I hesitated a few heartbeats and then knelt next to the chair, pulling my hand away. I switched hands and slowly pushed two fingers back inside her, pressing my thumb between her lips to find her clit. I moved in front of her as I stroked in and out with my fingers, rubbing her clit in time with my strokes. “Oh fuck yes,” she moaned, her hips rocking gently in time with my strokes. “That’s it Michael. Fuck me. Fuck my little pussy. God I want you inside me sooooo deep! Please. Push it in deeper!”

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