Frank Brown: The naughty neighbor wives

A shaft of late-afternoon sunshine burst through the overcast and shot down between the tops of the tall spruces that sheltered Liz's house from the street. Liz jumped up and looked out the picture window of her living room, feeling the sun's warmth on her cheeks.

"Well, it's about time!" she exclaimed. "I was beginning to wonder whether we'd ever see the sun again."

Carmen, still resting on the couch, chuckled.

"And I was beginning to wonder whether the sun had ever shone in Fullerton. I was just telling my husband Lester last night, if it gets any drearier around here, I'm going back to Chicago. Chicago weather might also be a little glum at this time of year, but at least there's enough excitement there to take your mind off it."

Liz reseated herself at the end of the couch opposite Carmen, pulling her bare feet up under her to warm her toes. "Give Fullerton a chance, dear. You haven't even been here a week."

"One of the longest weeks of my life," Carmen complained.

"Oh, come on! Give yourself time to adjust. Granted, you won't find the big-city excitement here that you would in Chicago, but you won't have to worry about being mugged, either. And, believe it or not, the sun does shine here most of the time. April showers are just about over with May flowers will be here any day."

Carmen smiled. "Why is it that all you small-town folk think of nothing but muggings and murders whenever you hear the name of a big city? Darling, I was born in Chicago and spent all thirty-eight years of my life there, and never once was I mugged or raped or shot."

"But don't you find Fullerton so much more peaceful, so much cleaner and more quiet?"

"It is a quaint little town, I'll admit. But I think I'm more likely to die of boredom here than I ever was of being murdered in Chicago. You know, you're the first person I've been able to have any kind of conversation with since I got here? I thought people in these small towns were supposed to be overly friendly, nosy, in fact. All I seem to get from anybody is an indifferent glance."

Liz laughed. Now it was her turn. "Why is it that all you big-city folk think small towns are always friendly and nosy? Some may be, but not all, and surely not Fullerton. My hometown had only three thousand people – ten times smaller than Fullerton – and people there were even less friendly than they are here. And as for boredom, look at me: I've lived all thirty-five years of my life in towns like Fullerton or worse, and I'm quite content. So I get a little bored at times – so what? I'm sure you got a little bored every once in awhile even in Chicago."

Carmen stretched, extending her long legs out along the seat of the couch until her bare feet nearly touched Liz's curled-up legs. "I suppose people get bored everywhere, but at least in a place like Chicago things are more liberal – if you know what I mean." She simpered at Liz. "You know, more open, freer."

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"Less prudish. Sexually liberated."

Liz felt herself flush. "More wine?"

"Certainly, darling. I thought you'd never ask."

Liz got up and went to the kitchen for the wine bottle. She was beginning to find her new neighbor's conversation annoying. In the hour since Carmen had appeared at the door, her black hair in waist-length braids like some schoolgirl, her feet bare, Carmen had insulted Fullerton more than once and had brought the conversation repeatedly around to sex. Liz was about ready to tell Carmen that she had work to do, that Carmen would have to leave. There was something strange about Carmen's glinting hazel eyes, something devilish, something that made Liz uneasy. Liz returned to the living room.

"Here we are." She poured the wine into the glass Carmen held out. Liz refilled her own glass, set the wine bottle on the end-table, and resumed her seat, pulling her feet up under her once again. "Now, where were we? Discussing boredom, if I remember."

Carmen toasted Liz. "To us. To a long, lively friendship." She put the glass to her lips and drained over half the wine in one gulp.

"Right," Liz said, sipping her wine, annoyed by Carmen's guzzling.

"Tell me," Carmen said, "is there a swingers club in Fullerton?"

The wine pinched Liz's throat. She coughed. "A what?" She didn't know whether she had heard Carmen correctly.

Carmen smiled. "Down the wrong pipe? A swingers club."

Liz had heard correctly. "I wouldn't know."

"You're not into swinging, then?"

"I'm afraid not." Liz looked at her watch. "Getting late. I should be starting supper."

"Stan must be some stud to keep you so satisfied."

"And he'll be hungry when he gets home. I really should get supper going." Liz couldn't believe Carmen's shameless talk.

Carmen caressed Liz's thigh with her bare toes. "Tell me the truth, Liz don't you ever get a little itchy for some fresh meat?"

Liz was shocked. She moved to get up. The wine, the conversation, the cramped position of her legs, all made her attempt to stand a struggle. When she did get up, she felt faint, dizzy. Carmen jumped up and caught her.

"Easy, Liz! Here, sit back down. What's the matter?"

Liz was embarrassed. "Got up too fast." She closed her eyes, letting the faintness pass.

Carmen sat next to her, hugging her. "I do that myself every so often. Did you see stars?"

Liz nodded, opening her eyes. She forced a smile. "Thank you, Carmen. I'd better try and get up again. I really have to start supper."

"Of course," Carmen said. She pinched Liz's chin, turned Liz's face toward her, and kissed Liz on the lips.

Liz tasted Carmen's saliva, felt Carmen's breath on her upper lip. A thrill passed through Liz's lips as if she had just been kissed by a man. Her pussy tingled. She remembered the first kiss she had ever received from a boy. She had been a young girl then and the boy had kissed her just as suddenly.

Carmen's warm, slippery tongue slid into Liz's mouth. It slid across her own tongue, then tickled the back of her throat. A shower of tingles passed down Liz's throat. Her cunt contracted. Carmen's hand groped the crotch of Liz's jeans.

Aware suddenly of what was happening, Liz fought to push Carmen away. "No! Carmen! No! What are you doing? No!"

Carmen grabbed her wrists, forced her down on the couch, and fell on her. Carmen was strong, like a man. She writhed on top of Liz, grinding her big tits at Liz, biting Liz's chin and neck.

With all her strength, Liz struggled to push Carmen off. Her heart sledge-hammered her breastbone. Her muscles ached and were trembling from the exertion, nearly cramping.

"Carmen, please! Get off me!"

Carmen's demonic eyes glared at her, glazed with lust – lust like a man's. "You're hot," Carmen said. "Pretty blue eyes. Lovely blond hair. I love it, Liz. You're hot, and now you've got me hot. Let's do it, honey. Oh, let's do it." She started to unbutton Liz's blouse.

The woman was crazy! Liz squirmed under her, feeling herself becoming weaker by the moment. "Carmen, no! Please!"

Carmen got her hand on Liz's right tit. She squeezed hard. She felt the crotch of her jeans getting wet.

"That's it, honey – relax." Carmen kissed her gently up and down her cheeks. She licked Liz's nose. "Beautiful, the way you're panting, your tits rising and falling. Mmmmm!" Carmen slid down. She pulled Liz's blouse wide open and buried her face between Liz's swelling tits, kissing her way up and down Liz's tits and all around Liz's nipples. All at once, she closed her hot mouth over Liz's left nipple.

Liz moaned. She felt herself melting into the couch, felt her flesh becoming all soft and sensitive. Her eyes were closed now. She was a teenage girl again, being seduced for the first time. She was out of her head now, helpless.