This is a true story, a bit long. Still not sure if I feel bad about it or not.
It all started at a block party in the old neighborhood where I lived while between marriages. Or between divorces.
My next-door neighbor Pam and I and her husband Bill usually hosted the parties in our neighborhood, which everyone called Divorcee Acres. Pam and Bill were one of the few married couples still together.
Pam worked from home a lot during the day, as I did. Bill was an airline pilot and gone constantly. So Pam and I became best friends, always at each other's house, each other's pool, taking and picking up kids to Little League or school functions or sleepovers.
We'd spend the afternoons on my deck, talking about my ex wife or Bill or the kids or whatever. We even talked about sex. She was very interested in my sex life as a divorced dad. She made it very clear she and Bill were no longer intimate, in part because Bill was borderline impotent, and as Pam said "and he has a pitiful little cock."
That became a running inside joke between us. I made it known that all she had to do was say when, and she could be my personal sex slave and my cock would be all hers. As far as she knew.
We would laugh about it, but deep down we both wanted each other.
Over time, we became bolder about our sex lives, her telling me that before they were married she was quite the slut behind closed doors. I would get her to tell me more and more, and little by little, we'd revealed more to each other than anyone else on earth.
It became our bond. And it became wildly erotic.
We were both in our late 30s, in great shape and in our prime, and we both knew it. So there was more than a little frustrations that we seemed to alleviate by flirting and talking, but it also created more pent-up sexual tension.
Eventually, it had to break. We both knew that, too.
So it came to a head at one of our block parties one summer. My kids were with their mom, and Pam's kids were at camp or something. Bill had just come home from a long trip, and I'm pretty sure they were fighting in the hours leading up to the party.
Pam and I spent most of the afternoon getting everything ready. Bill mostly stayed inside drinking.
As the evening began, and neighbors started showing up with hamburgers and hot dogs and potato salad and coolers full of beer and wine, it was just another normal gathering of friends. Bill had come out onto their deck and spent a couple hours bragging and bellowing about how big a deal he was. Neither Pam nor I liked him all that much.
He was the kind of guy who talked a big game but had nothing. He didn't mow his own lawn. Didn't do anything around the house. Couldn't work a screw driver, much less fix anything that needed fixing.
That's where I came in.
The party was going well, and everyone was laughing and getting tipsy, and no one noticed the wind picking up or the dark clouds gathering over the trees, until suddenly a bolt of lightning and a crack of thunder sent everyone scurrying for cover.
Pam and I quickly gathered all the stuff we could, putting out grills and covering up food as the rains came and sent everyone running for home. Pam and I ran into her kitchen through the back door, soaking wet. Bill was at the kitchen table, drinking and swaying and garbling his words, laughing at us but sort of in a mean way.
He said something about Pam's tits, which were indeed showing through her white pullover, and he asked me if I liked his wife's tits.
I ignored him and went into their hall closet where I knew their towels were and brought out a couple, tossing one to Pam and I dried off the best I could.
Bill was mad and kept repeating the same thing.
"Just show him your tits, Pam," he slurred.
To my surprise and to Bill's shock, she finally said "OK."
Pam slowly slid the top off, throwing it at Bill, then reached behind her and undid her bra, letting it fall to the floor.
