Roger Grayson: A Neighborhood Party

"For God's Sakes, Harry, get away from that window. Haven't you ogled that little bitch next door enough for one day?" Marsha Burns scolded at her husband from across the room where she had the Sunday paper laid out on the floor. "Her husband's going to catch you eyeing her and be over here with a baseball bat in a few minutes."

"Man," he replied, turning toward his wife and smiling. "I'd give a whole month's pay to get a little of that stuff. I haven't seen anything that young and tender since we had that trip to Europe three years ago. I could really go for that little doll."

He turned slowly from the den window where he had been looking out over his new neighbors' back yard, paused for a moment and then stole another quick glance at the young, lithe blonde in the tight shorts pushing the lawn mower next door. He sighed heavily and walked across the room to where his wife was lying in her robe on the thick, soft mohair rug.

"I like 'em with experience too, baby, don't get me wrong," he grinned, dropping to his knees to sit beside her on the floor. "I spent too many years training you the right way not to appreciate it, but you gotta admit a little strange stuff never hurt anyone."

"Well, I'm glad it doesn't." Marsha Burns looked up at him from the floor. "If it did, you'd have been dead and gone a long time ago."

"Baby, that's where I get the experience to keep a nympho like you happy. I couldn't have held on to you for three minutes if I weren't the best. Now could I? Besides, you get your share from the club."

Harry reached down the length of her long, well-shaped legs to the back of her knees and playfully brought his hand up under her robe, pushing the hem abruptly up the backs of her thighs before she could resist.

"Ohhh, you beast," she jumped forward trying to escape the playful fingers coursing their way up along the sensitive parts of her legs. "Stop, stop it, Harry, please, please," she giggled out of control, knocking the cup of coffee she had been drinking into the air and spilling it across the rug, "Look what you done now. Ohhhh, Ohhhh, God stop, Harry, please stop."

Harry grinned above her, placing one hand in the small of her back and pinning her to the floor, continued his rummaging up between his wife's flailing legs and laughing aloud at the same time at her helpless squeals for mercy.

"No pants this morning, eh," he chided loudly as her robe flew up, exposing the lush, white, rounded cheeks of her buttocks. "Don't tell me I don't have a nympho here. Didn't I give you enough last night. Didn't I, didn't I?"

"Ohhhh, yes, Harryeee! Yes, yes, anything you say, just stop it! Stop it, you're driving me crazy!" his wife bucked and twisted beneath the hand holding her tightly to the floor, laughing uncontrollably from the playful tickling he was subjecting her to.

"Anything I say, anything," he demanded playfully, continuing the twisting of her flesh between her legs.

"Yes! Ohhhh, yes, anything, anything!"

"Help me get in those short pants next door?"

"Yes, damn you, yes, just stop, stop!"

He laughed aloud again and released his hold on her squirming body, withdrawing his hand from up under her robe. "That's my baby, knew you wouldn't deny me anything."

"You bastard," his wife grinned up at him as she rolled over and smoothed the wrinkled material back into place. "I might have known you had something in mind when you started playing that little game of hanky panky with me."

"Nonsense, love, you know I would have done that anyway. Besides, after we discuss this little matter and decide how we're going to approach it I just might give you a little reward: You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Mmmmm," she smiled up at him, coquettishly. "I might just accept your offer if you think you're up to it."

"Baby, I'm always up to it." He said rising from the floor. "What about a pick-me-up to stir up the blood a little? After all, it's Sunday and that's as good an excuse as any."

"Since when did you need an excuse to swill that stuff down? If I don't kill you first then one of these days it will."

"I can handle it, Sweetie, you know that," he winked at her. "What'll you have?"

"If you're really serious about that offer," she smiled, "I'd better have a little vitamin with it. Make it a good strong screwdriver and easy on the orange juice."

Harry walked behind the well stocked bar and mixed the drinks quickly and skillfully while he hummed happily to himself. He knew now that as soon as he had Marsha's agreement on the seduction of their young, luscious new neighbor that it wouldn't be long before he was in. She had never failed him yet when she had put her heart in a thing and he knew that she had an interest also in the young punk of a husband the girl had. He and Marsha made a good pair, he mused as he poured two generous shots of vodka into each glass on the bar in front of him. They both liked the innocent, virginal type that took some real work and planning to get at. The triumph was so much greater when it became a real act of seduction and not just one of the swapping things that they had become so involved in. Of course, he enjoyed those too, but the recruiting of new members was the fun part. Taking two young innocents this way and leading them on into a social life that they thought was modern and liberal until all of a sudden, without warning, they were watching each other get screwed silly by someone they hardly knew.

Aside from the fact that his new neighbor was a cute little wench that he'd really like to give it to, he'd enjoy seeing the expression on the face of that punk kid the first time he saw his young wife getting a fuck thrown to her by someone else. This would be half the satisfaction and would be good to take him down a peg or two. Harry smiled in satisfactory anticipation. He had seen a thousand like that kid, fresh in the business world and knowing it all. All dressed alike in their permanent press button-down shirts and Ivy League suits, and all ready to conquer the world. His old man had probably put him through school, too, and maybe even landed him the job. He hadn't had to scrounge the best he could to get ahead like he himself had had to do, starting as a used car salesman during the depression when people could afford a car like they could fly to the moon. Well, he had learned a few things about living and life that he could teach that young punk and all his kind. They thought they knew it all with their constant demonstrations against this and that cause that they hadn't really enough experience to fully understand. Well, maybe he didn't understand those things either as much as he should but he did know about people and enough to understand that there was nothing they wouldn't do if subjected to the right circumstances. By God, he would make certain his new neighbors got their chance to be subjected to those circumstances.

"What's taking so long with those pick-me-ups?" His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the lazy drawling voice of Marsha floating across the room. "You must be stalling. Aren't planning to renege on your promise, I hope. I might change my mind about helping with the little hussy next door."

"Not on your life, baby. You're going to get a working over like you haven't had since last night. I'm gonna practice up a little for the little bitch next door."

"Well, I don't know about that. I'd kinda like to be taken for me, and not some young chick you don't even know will put out."

"Oh, she'll put out all right," Harry grinned, nodding his head positively. "With the plan I've got worked out, we'll have 'em both in the rack within a week."