Frank Markser - The Next Door Couple

Medoc Circle is a street like many others in the better class suburbs of Southern California, and, if any street could be called typical of the affluent middle class America, the little cul-de-sac would qualify.

The clean split-level homes and their well-manicured lawns reflected the personality of the clean and well-manicured people who lived within them.

The Stanleys, Joan and John, lived at 1503 Medoc Circle. Next door at 1505 were Bill and Laurie Kent.

Like the furnishings in their houses, the two couples differed. At twenty-seven, Joan Stanley was a breathtakingly sensual platinum blonde whose tall svelte figure turned the heads of men and woman alike. John, her ruggedly handsome husband had a wild thatch of straw-colored hair and a dark tan which reflected his days spent at the harbor as a yacht broker. They were, as practically everyone would testify, happily

married and well adjusted emotionally, sexually and all other ways of importance.

In contrast to Joan’s stunning blondness, Laurie Kent was a petite twenty two year old redhead with green eyes, a pert turned-up nose that was bridged by a rainbow of freckles and a sweetheart face. The vivacious little redhead, in turn, presented a wild contrast to her staid twenty-five year old husband Bill who was -much to her dismay – almost the perfect specimen of the no-nonsense public accountant.

Like many other jobless, childless wives, the two young women spent a lot of time together while their husbands worked. Actually, they could be found at least once a day sitting by the Stanley’s swimming pool smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee and exchanging gossip.

Today was starting out to be pretty typical. In the last half hour the two bored young wives had sat by the pool, the sun streaming down on their lushly ripened, bikini-clad bodies, sipping the black coffee that Joan had brewed for them.

Laurie glanced over toward the blonde languidly lying on her stomach. A thin moustache of perspiration was on Joan’s upper but it was the heavy-lidded expression that drew the younger girl’s attention. She correctly interpreted the look as one of sexual satiation, and she couldn’t resist feeling a sudden pang of envy. Joan had admitted that she and John generally had sex every morning before he went to work… and again at night.

Laurie sighed wistfully and put her thoughts into words, “Honestly, Joan; sometimes I wonder why the hell I ever married Bill. He’s such a drag sometimes. There’d be more excitement with a… a cigar store Indian!”

“Laurie! You shouldn’t say that about your husband.” Joan’s eyes flew open, an expression of her shock at the younger girl’s statement.

“You can say that, but you have a sexy man like John for your husband,” Laurie said, pouting, then added defiantly. “You just can’t imagine what a lousy lay my husband is.”

The blonde lifted one eyebrow. She wasn’t surprised. Not really. Bill was handsome enough, but he seemed so damned proper at times. “That’s too bad, honey,” she answered thoughtfully. “because that’s one of the most important ingredients for a happy marriage.”

Laurie turned over and sat up; her arms wrapped around her knees, “Joan, how do you teach a man to be sexually liberated?” She paused and shrugged, “God knows I’ve tried to liberate him, but he has such old-fashioned ideas about sex.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. John and I have always considered ourselves well adjusted when it comes to love-making.”

“So have I, and I thought Bill was too… until after we were married,” she sighed, looking close to tears. “I guess I screwed it up then. On our wedding night I wanted oral sex. Now he thinks I’m perverted.”

“Laurie, the secret of a happy sex life is doing only the things that make you feel good. If you’re forced into an act that disgusts you, it’s not ‘liberation’…”

“Hell, but what am I supposed to do?” the angry redhead retorted. “Frankly, I like oral sex. I like sex… period! And anything new I might learn to do, but I never get to do anything like that. It’s always the old missionary position, barn-barn, thank you ma’am, for Bill.”

“That really must be awful for you,” Joan said, staring toward the still water of the pool. “We do everything, John and I,” and then added for emphasis, “everything.” She smiled as she thought of her husband and what he had done for her only a couple of hours before. And then, she sighed and said, “You know it’s a strange thing, Laurie, if sex is good between a husband and wife, it’s only ten percent of a marriage, but, if it’s bad, it’s ninety percent.”

“You can sure say that again,” the petite redhead said disgustedly, as she wiped the perspiration from her face and took another sip of coffee. After a moment, she, too, stared toward the blue water of the pool. “I don’t see how I can go on like this, but Bill would kill me if I fucked around.”

Inside the house the shrill peal of the telephone interrupted the chatting wives. Joan quickly got up and padded toward the cool interior. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hey,” Laurie yelled after her retreating figure, “it’s too hot for any more coffee. Got something cold?”

“How about a vodka and tonic?”

“Sounds great.” Laurie sat by the pool, bitterness contorting her usually pleasant face as she thought, Why the hell am I so unlucky? Why can’t I be like Joan and have everything? She’s damned good looking, but so am I, for all the good it does. I’m bored and unhappy with Bill. I don’t know what the hell to do. If I didn’t have Joan to talk to, I’d go completely mad. It’s bad enough now, having to use a fucking vibrator to get my kicks. It’s better than nothing, but I sure would like to feel a man’s nice hard …

She heard the screen door creak open and slowly shut, and turned to see Joan coming toward her with a tray balanced on one hand. “Oh God, that looks good,” she sighed. “It always makes things look a little brighter when I’m laced with booze.” She paused, cocked her head to one side, then asked, “Boyfriend?”

Joan grinned, “No such luck, that was my Aunt Sara on the phone. She’s coming to visit us.” Joan smiled, remembering Sara, her aunt by marriage. She was a sensually alluring brunette and widowed two years ago. She had been a glamorous, free and easy woman ever since, traveling

all over the world in search of something new and different.

“Won’t her being here cramp your style?” Laurie questioned impishly, “Like… ah… no more fun and games on the front room floor…”

“Sara’s as sexually liberated as we are. Even moreso, if what she writes me is true.”

“That’s impossible. I don’t believe it.”

“You should hear her talk,” the attractive blonde wife laughed. “My uncle left her very wealthy, and, evidently, she has one young stud after the other to keep her company.”

“Lucky woman!” the young redheaded girl said, her voice envious.

“She’s thirty seven years old, and she doesn’t have a single male friend that’s over twenty-five… so she tells me.”

“God! That’s not fair! Here I am only twenty-three, and all I’ve got is a bank auditor who acts like he’s a hundred.” Laurie gulped her drink and became more depressed than ever from Joan’s conversation.

“I’m truly sorry, Laurie,” Joan frowned in sympathy. Try to be gentle with Bill, and you might be able to help him overcome his hangups.” Hell, it was pompous to talk like this, but what else was there to say?