Husband cheats with the pretty neighbor wife who’s as horny as a cat on a hot tin roof

My next-door neighbor Patty reminded me a lot of Carol.
Both had beautiful dark hair and exceptionally pretty
faces, and although Carol was tall and Patty short, there
was still something about both of them that somehow made
them sisters. And while Carol, with her almond-shaped
green eyes and long fine legs looked erotic, Patty was
the very definition of erotic.

“Do you like to masturbate?” Patty asked me softly, her
voice barely audible over the hum of the fan. We were
sitting next door on her screened porch on a hot and
humid Saturday afternoon sipping tall glasses of
Lynchburg lemonade. I had just finished mowing my lawn
when Patty called out from her porch and offered me a
drink. I accepted, glad for the opportunity to cool off.
My wife, Joy, was out grocery shopping and Patty’s
husband “Howie” had gone to play tennis.

As I entered the cool of her porch area through the
screen-door, Patty smiled at me and handed me a towel,
which I used to wipe the sweat from my face and neck, and
then she went back into her kitchen to bring the drinks
while I admired her porch. It was furnished with a large
straw mat rug and white rattan furniture, cushioned in
greens, the overhead fan humming and gently rustling the
fronds of the huge ferns suspended from the beams under
the roof.

She returned with a round tray bearing a pitcher filled
with ice and sliced lemons and the light brown concoction
made from Sprite, sweet and sour mix, and Jack Daniels,
and poured the drinks into tall glasses, and then sat
down across from me, her eyes looking at me from over the
top of her glass. I could hear strains of “Afternoon
Delight” playing softly from a radio somewhere in her
house.

Patty was wearing blue jeans cut-offs and a light blue
wrap-around top which tied behind her back, obviously no
bra, and sandals on her bare feet. She was about thirty-
five at the time, and was a very striking and fine
looking woman, her dark auburn-black hair full and
shinny, and seductive dark green eyes that gave her the
appearance of a cover girl. She had nice tits – not too
big, and wonderfully cute sexy legs, soft but well
muscled from frequent jogging. Her upper lip was soft and
full, like Ali McGraw’s, and it bore a fine line of
perspiration because of the heat of the day. Her eyes did
not miss the fact that my eyes were eating her up, and
the corners of her mouth turned up into a kind of smug
knowing smile as she watched my eyes devour her.

We started chatting and somehow got philosophical,
talking about how things in our lives had not turned out
to be what we thought they would be, and the conversation
moved along and became focused on our respective
marriages. Patty offered the opinion that her sex life
was one thing that fell into the group of things that
hadn’t turned out like she thought it would. “Thank God
for masturbation,” she giggled, flashing her seductive
eyes at me, “the housewife’s sanctuary.”

We had been just “good friends” up to that point, but
there was something between us and we both knew it. The
mutual attraction was undeniable, and I had thought many
times about what it would be like to feel her in my arms
and make love to her, especially when I jerked off,
needing a little relief when my wife wasn’t around.
Patty’s fantasies ran parallel as I found out from this
conversation.

I was intrigued rather than shocked with her question,
and didn’t answer her right away. She squirmed a little
bit with the shamelessness of her expression of
curiosity, but she saw that my eyes were already
answering for me.

“Well…do you?” she asked a little more directly,
knowing from my expression, but wanting to hear me say it
anyway.

“Sometimes,” I admitted, not sure enough of myself to
tell her that I probably jerked off more than most guys.
It wasn’t from any lack of sexual satisfaction from my
wife, but rather that I was just highly sexed, and it was
something I had done since I was a kid, liking the sexual
variety that I could conjure up as I fantasized about a
variety of sexual situations.

She looked at me and smiled deviously. “If I didn’t
masturbate, I’d hardly have any sex life at all,” she
confided, without even the slightest hint of
embarrassment. “I’d probably go crazy without it,” she
went on. “The trouble is, I’m starting to get hooked on
it,” she admitted, “And lately I’ve been thinking about
you a lot… when I do it,” she added, her eyes flashing.

The thought of her lying naked on her bed with her
fingers playing between her incredibly sexy legs flashed
through my mind. I thought it was pretty ironic that I
might be jerking off too, while I fantasized about her,
and not fifty feet away; separated by layers of drywall
and vinyl siding, she might be diddling herself with the
same fantasy at the same time.

“Well I wouldn’t worry about it,” I said. “I think almost
everybody does it when they feel horny and just need a
little quick relief,” I said reasonably.

“Do you do it a lot?…uh, I mean, well, like as much as
I do?” she stammered. “I mean, well, like several times a
week?” She was gazing at me, her hooded eyes looking
directly into mine. I wondered why she was asking me
these questions. Was she just trying to put her
particular sexual vice in perspective? Or was this
leading up to something?

“Uh…well, yeah, I probably do it that much on average,”
I answered. My dick was stirring in my shorts with this
turn of conversation. “And I also like to think about you
when I do it,” I admitted. Her eyes shown, the corners of
her mouth turned up in a cherubic smile.

“Oh, God, that turns me on,” she blurted out in a hushed
voice, her cheeks turning pink. “I’m getting wet right
now, thinking about it,” she said matter-of-factly, and
rather breathlessly.

There was a pause in the conversation and her sexy eyes
were pleading with me to make the next move. I wondered
if she was wishing she were alone right now so she could
masturbate, or if she was feeling horny enough to
masturbate right now, right here in front of me. I
certainly was feeling aroused, and I couldn’t help
picturing her fingering her hot little slit while she
watched me jerk off.

My cock was now fully erected, tenting the front of my
shorts, and Patty’s eyes hadn’t missed the spectacle
either. “Would you like to show me how you do it?” I
asked softly. “I’d love to watch you do it for me.”

Patty smiled, calculating, her eyes cutting away to
survey the distant homes across our back yards, and then
she scrunched the back of her perfect ass down to the
edge of her chair and looked back at me, the movement
causing her cut-offs to ride up, and I could see the
puffy outline cunt-lips pressing against the material of
her cut-offs. She knew I could see it, her eyes following
mine, and then falling to my crotch as my cock throbbed,
lifting the front of my shorts to the rhythm of my
heartbeat.

“And what would you do if I did?” she asked coquettishly.

What would I do? I thought quickly…sensing that my
answer might be critical. The answer was obvious. She had
started the direction of this conversation by telling me
that she masturbated, and we had both just admitted that
we jerked off fantasizing about each other. Fuck, she
WANTED to do it right now, but she wanted complicity. She
was unwilling to gamble; to take it further without my
taking the lead. That would indemnify her against being
embarrassed if I turned her down.

“I’d have to do it with you?” I said quietly, my cock
applauding by raising itself up again, tenting the front
of my shorts even more. Her eyes were zeroed in on the
swelling between my legs, and she wet her pouty lips with
a swish of her pointy pink tongue. When she raised her
eyes up to look at my face, I could see that they had
grown sleepy with lust, the corners of her mouth turned
up in a smile of understanding, and she drew a deep
breath and let it out slowly. She readjusted herself,
squirming nervously in her chair and I saw that her
nipples had grown taunt, sticking out through the
material of her halter.

She frowned then, as if making a difficult decision, or
perhaps at the kinkiness of the whole idea, like someone
would frown when tasting something delicious for the
first time and savoring the taste.

“Well then…” she sighed and reached for the buttons of
her cut-offs; opening them with her delicate fingers one-
by-one. She wasn’t wearing any panties and that became
immediately evident as she exposed the smooth skin of her
abdomen and the dark muff of her crotch. She lifted her
hips, momentarily suspending herself between her
shoulders and her feet, and let the cut-offs slide down
her smooth shapely legs to rest around her ankles. Her
eyes were on me again, watching for my reaction, and then
she spread her delicious thighs apart and I found myself
looking directly at the exposed puffy gash of her
splendid naked snatch.

I momentarily thought about her husband Howie. He was a
big man, probably twice the weight of Patty, and I knew
without really knowing that his equipment must be in the
same proportion as his body. I envisioned as I stared at
her wonderful sex; Howie’s big long cock working its way
in and out of the hot pink hole.

I was brought back to the moment when she reached for the
gathering of the clear nectar at her opening with the
middle finger of her other hand and drew it upward
through her cleft and spread it over her clitoris as if
she were spreading lemon-butter over a pealed shrimp, and
I watched, fascinated, as she teased herself with her
slippery fingers. It was clear by the expression on her
face, the turned-up corners of her mouth and the hunger
in her eyes that she was enjoying masturbating in front
of me.

I have seen my wife, Joy, masturbating again and again,
and I can’t count how often I’ve done it with her. That
was one of the things that my wife and I found we had in
common back when we were dating. And I had watched girls
do it in sex videos and it always made my cock get hard.
The idea of watching my delicious sexy neighbor Patty
doing it right in front of me was making my cock
painfully hard, throbbing with the need to be squeezed
and stroked.

“Well…?” she said expectantly. I reached down and
pulled the leg band of my sweaty shorts to one side, and
then my sweaty briefs, and dug my cock out. It stood
straight up, proud and erect, and she looked at it and
spread her legs a little further apart, thrusting her
hips forward as if her body was reaching for me. Her
fingers continued to gloss over her shiny clit,
pleasuring it as I closed my fingers around my hard-on
and squeezed it, beginning to pull it up and down,
jerking off for her and at the sight of her masturbating
in unison.

“You want to see my clit?” she breathed, and before I
could react, she pursed her lips in a kiss and reached
down with her other hand and spread the flat lips of her
sweet sex, and with her fingers, pulled the skin of her
mons upward so that her clitoris stood up, peeking out
from under her clitoral hood. She had a rather large
clit, much larger than my wife’s, about the size of the
end of my little finger, and almost a half-inch long, I
wondered for a moment if girl’s clits get enlarged from
frequent masturbation.

I wanted to get down between her sexy legs and kiss and
lick her there, but held back, not wanting to go too far.
The opening of her vagina clenched as she watched my eyes
do what I had thought about doing. Then she began to rub
her clitoris again, masturbating wantonly as I jacked my
cock watching her, her finger alternately pressing
against her lips and then running down into the valley
between the wide petals of her cunt.

“You’ve got a nice dick Brad,” she whispered admiringly,
“just like I pictured it,” her eyes glazing with the
erotic enjoyment of what we were doing.

I was glad that she thought I was big, and wanted to
return the complement. “You’ve got a really nice body,” I
whispered in return. Then inspiration hit, “Show me your
tits,” I said, and immediately she tugged the cross-tied
material of her top up and exposed her breasts to me.
They were really nice, firm, and rounded on the
undersides, her pink aureole smooth and not too large,
supporting her small but up-turned hard nipples. Teenage
size tits, just like I thought they would be. I’d
imagined seeing them in the flesh every time I’d seen her
in a tight top, or out back at the pool in her skimpy
swimsuit.

She cupped one in her left hand and gently squeezed her
nipple between thumb and forefinger as the fingers of her
other hand continued to work at her clitoris. Almost
every time I’ve watched my wife masturbate, she has
played with her nipples while she did it. That has been a
strong clue for me about how to get my wife to climax
when I do it for her.

“I want to see you…come for me,” she whispered. “Pump
your cock and make your jizz squirt out for me.”

Her words were hardly out of her mouth before my cock
seized up and surged out the precum that lubricates the
passage for the real thing. I grasped my dick at the root
and squeezed hard, stemming the sensation of my orgasm,
and when the tremendous need to squirt off had passed, I
slicked the slippery jizz over my cock and jacked it up
and down, my hand making little “slick-slick-slick”
sounds as I stroked it back and forth.

“I almost came,” I muttered.

“Yeah…I saw,” she answered, her eyes glistening, and
she dinked her finger into the opening of her vagina,
masturbating faster now and with more purpose.

“Now you can watch me come,” she said, her voice quaking,
the pad of her middle finger rubbing incessantly over her
rigid clit. We watched each other masturbate for several
more minutes like that, Patty holding her breast with one
hand and flicking her clit with the other while I jerked
off watching her.

We didn’t talk any more. There was no need for it. We
were both getting off on watching each other live out the
fantasy of jerking off while watching each other
masturbate.

Then she leaned back in her chair, intent on making
herself orgasm, and spread her labia apart with her
fingers as she aroused herself faster and faster. I
noticed a blush forming across her chest as she brought
herself closer, straining to reach her climax.

Watching her masturbate so uninhibitedly made me want to
come with her, and my fist started to go into overdrive
on my dick, jerking faster now, and I felt my climax
coming again.

“Ohhhh….,” Patty breathed, “…cumming…” she panted,
and then her face wrinkled as the convulsions of her
climax welled up in her body and she began to experience
the sweet release of her orgasm. Her eyes glazed,
exposing the depth of her pleasure, and then her mouth
formed the long letter “O” as her climax came full force,
her pelvis jerking, and as I watched her masturbate to
her feeling, I came too, my fist pumping out a large
squirt of semen as I came with her.

At the last moment, I grabbed the damp towel she had
given me and held it in front of my dick and squirted off
into it, jetting off gobs of cum into the cloth so that I
wouldn’t spoil her straw rug, groaning as my hand pumped
the jizz out of my cock. She watched me jerk out the
spurts of cum as she had her climax, each of us taking
our pleasure from watching the other orgasm.

When it was over, Patty smiled at me, flushed from her
having had her gratification and said, breathlessly, her
face flushed, “That was fun…,” and then she simply
pulled her top back down and adjusted it, and pulled her
cut-offs back up and refastened them as I stuffed my
spent dick back into my shorts. In just minutes it was
over, like it had never happened at all.

She took a long sip from her glass as she looked at me
again.

“I’d like to do that again sometime,” she paused,
“…when we have more time.”

I lifted my glass in a toast. “Anytime,” I answered
simply, astonished at what had just happened.

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