Janet McCoy - The wife next door

Helen decided it would probably be as good for Harry to know he was attractive to other women as it had been for Emma to test herself with other men. And Helen knew just the woman to help Harry out.

The first day she noticed Harry at home at a reasonable hour was Wednesday afternoon. He came back from work about six. Helen watched his car pull into the driveway. She was alone for the evening. Sam had an unexplained "appointment". He would be late.

The situation seemed custom-made for Helen's plan.

She went into the bedroom and rummaged through her closet. She picked out a floor-length pink at-home gown. It was slinky and slit up both sides almost as far as her ass. She hadn't met a man yet who was immune to it.

Next she made up her face, with just a subtle amount of makeup – enough to make her irresistible. "Mmm-hmm!" she told her minor. "You are ready, honey!" She went to the kitchen and took a casserole out of the fridge. This was her reason for visiting Harry. Events would take their natural course from there.

Harry looked genuinely surprised when he opened his front door. "Helen! Why… hello, how are you?"

"Just fine, Harry. As always. Emma was a bit worried about you making it on your own. I brought you a casserole to keep you fed till she gets back."

"Why, thank you, Helen. I'm sure it'll be much better than the hamburger I bought on the way home tonight." He grinned ruefully. He was still standing in the doorway, Helen on the landing.

"Do you mind if I come in for a minute, Harry? I'm alone for the evening, too. I'd appreciate a few minutes' conversation."

He moved to one side to let her pass. His face flushed with embarrassment. "Gee, I'm sorry, Helen. I didn't mean to be rude. Of course, come in. I was just reading the latest edition of Scientific American."

Helen made herself comfortable on the couch. "How interesting. How did you enjoy your trip away from home?"

"Oh… it was fascinating. It gave me a wealth of new ideas."

"How was Chicago?"

He smiled like an errant schoolboy. "I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea. I spent all my time in the hotel where we held our meetings."

"Oh, that's too bad. Chicago's a fun town, Harry, once you learn your way around."

"Yes… I got to know the place when I was an undergraduate there. The town never really was my scene though. I'm kind of a stick-in-the-mud when it comes to night life."

Helen was feeling the strain of trying to make conversation with the man. Their interests were worlds apart. She decided it was time to search for common ground.

"Well, I don't know, Helen… You go ahead. I have to go to work tomorrow."

"Ah, come on! You can't let a lady drink alone!"

"I can't?" He grinned at her. He was beginning to notice the way her gown clung to Helen's lush curves. "Okay… just one."

"Good. I make a great manhattan. How will that be?"

"Just fine."

Helen had chosen manhattans because they were one of the surest ways she knew to get happy fast. She and her friend's husband made slightly strained conversation as they drank. Gradually, though, Harry seemed to grow more comfortable with Helen. He showed no sign of discomfort when she sat close beside him on the couch. In fact, she caught him sneaking sideways glances at her half-exposed tits more than once.

"You know, Harry, you're a very attractive man. Sometimes I think you don't appreciate that about yourself."

He flushed slightly. He didn't look at her as he replied. "I know my limitations, Helen. I've never exactly been a sex symbol. I'm too serious for most women. They think I have no sense of humor."

"Nonsense, Harry. You have a wonderful sense of humor. And you're so intelligent. A woman appreciates a man with a good intelligence."

He brightened. He looked the redhead right in the eyes this time. "Really? It doesn't bore them?"

"The ones who are too stupid to appreciate intelligence, sure, it bores them. But there are plenty of intelligent women around." She moved her chest the slightest bit closer to Harry. "I've always thought you were very… sexy, Harry."

He flushed a bright red. Helen was almost afraid she had gone too far too fast. But the extra-strong drink she had mixed was doing its job. He turned toward her and grabbed a tit.

"Hey, that's great, Helen. I've always thought you were sexy, too. You always look so damned good. You should have been a model, Helen."

The redhead thrust her chest directly into his grasp. His strong hands felt good on her. She experienced a surge of excitement that shot all the way down to her cunt and ricocheted back up. "Oooohh, Harry. It's awfully nice of you to say so, Harry."

"Beautiful tits! You've got beautiful tits, Helen." Her long nipples were standing erect against the thin material of her gown. He had been watching her breasts all evening. She never wore a bra and the soft sway of her tits reminded him he hadn't been laid for a week.

"Thank you, Harry." She brought her face close to his and waited. He looked at her for a moment, then his mouth bore down on hers. His tongue searched boldly inside the hot cavern of her mouth, challenging her tongue to a duel.

Helen was flabbergasted and delighted. From Emma's complaints, she had not expected Harry to be an aggressive lover. She had expected to have to do most of the seducing herself Harry was proving her all wrong. He was hungry, and he didn't mind showing it.

She was discovering the truth of the old adage, those who should know us best often know us least. In day-to-day proximity to someone, it's often the minute flaws we see, and not the whole person.

Harry somewhat startled himself by his behavior. In the three years of their marriage, he had never once even thought of fucking a woman other than Emma. Only now did he realize what had been missing from their relationship lately it was the thrill of discovery, the magnetism of being close to another sexual creature and deciding to explore that sexuality. Sex with Emma was mechanical. He guiltily recalled the night Emma had tried to vary their routine. He had balked. He had been unable to accept the kind of free sexuality in a wife that he could appreciate in the next-door neighbor.

He now realized there had been severe gaps in communication between himself and Emma. It was as much his fault as hers. He had grown to accept his wife as a certain kind of person. He had been afraid to see her change. The known was so much safer than the unknown.

Except when it came to sexy next-door neighbors.

For the first time in his life, Harry saw an opportunity to really let go sexually. To throw all caution and rules to the wind. He wanted to fuck this woman. And she obviously wanted to fuck him. He could tell by the way she was clawing at his body, opening the buttons of his shirt and wrestling with his fly.

"Oh, Harry! You're so strong! So… masterful!" He picked Helen up and laid her full-length on the couch. He grabbed hold of her robe and drew it up over her head. She was naked underneath. Her round ripe tits poked saucily up at him. Her belly flowed out firm and fiat from her taut waist. What beckoned him most was the bright red thatch of her cunt-hair. He wanted to eat her pussy! He wanted to taste her cunt-flesh!

He hastily undressed, scattering his clothes to left and right. He grinned with satisfaction to see Helen's eyes fixed on his erection. His tock had become hard the instant he touched her tit, and it had been throbbing with desire ever since.

"Ooohh, Harry… what a lovely cock you have!"

"Oooohh Helen what a beautiful little pussy you have!"

She parted her legs in invitation. He accepted at once. He knelt between her thighs and bent toward the beckoning triangle. His fingers spread her cunt-lips. The flesh inside was pink and inflamed, moist with passion. His tongue longed for the taste. He extended it and stabbed her hard little clitoris.