The best part of walking your dog in this neighborhood is that you meet other people out doing the same thing. Almost everyone is friendly and we all stop to chat, but two stand out. Leslie is a tall, thin blonde with a crazy white boxer dog, and Karen has an enormous malamute. They stand out because they don't just stand and chat-they flirt. In fact, I had fooled around with at different points in the past year, which made the flirting even more fun. On this day, however...
============================
My family went on vacation last month. They left Wednesday and took the car over to Montauk, making the long drive from here in 5 hours. I had to finish the work-week, so I planned to take the train to New London and then the ferry across Long Island Sound to join them late Friday night. Wednesday went as planned-work, eat dinner, and watch Netflix until I fell asleep. Thursday started out the same. It was strange waking up in a quiet house, though. My wife is usually up before me, but there was no early-morning chat over coffee, and the background noise of the kid and the dog were missing as well. The only benefit was that I didn't have to walk the dog.
I did, however, have to bring in the mail and get ready to leave on Friday. Thursday, I worked hard to clear my desk for the coming week. I got home just after six and had a sandwich, trying to empty the fridge before vacation. That's when I remembered the mail. I had cruised right by the line of mailboxes, wrapped up in singing "Drift Away" as I got home. With a sigh, I set out down the long private road to collect it. With no dog to keep me company, the evening was quiet and I enjoyed the green, cool light as I walked. The weather was cool and dry for once after a month of sweltering days or torrential rain.
Up ahead, though, I heard voices. Rounding a curve, I felt my heart skip a beat-clearly the sign of a guilty conscience. Well, not really, but momentary panic...you'll see in a minute!
Just around the curve, two neighbors were walking their dogs after dinner. Actually, they were standing there talking while the dogs sniffed each other, but you know what I mean. People walking their dogs is a pretty normal sight in the suburbs, but this pair of women was problematic for me. In the last year, I had hooked up with each one. Seeing them together talking and laughing had my mind racing. Still, they had been discreet since then, and aside from a twinkle in their eyes occasionally, had given no hint to anyone of what had gone on between us. They acted normal around my wife, which I appreciated, and continued to be their usual good-natured selves.
"Hey there!" said Leslie as I came into sight. "No dog today?"
"She's on vacation already," I explained.
"Oh, that's right! I heard you've been abandoned."
Karen jumped in at that point: "Yeah, we told your wife we'd keep an eye on you!"
Her eyes sparkled when she said that. Leslie was watching the dogs and hadn't noticed, but jumped right on that bandwagon as well.
"Yeah-we have to protect you from all the bad women in the neighborhood," Leslie chimed in.
There were no bad women in the neighborhood, but last summer, Leslie gave me an amazing blowjob in her garage. She was blunt and horny all the time, and knew how to get what she wanted. That day, apparently, she wanted me. Karen, on the other hand, was quiet and shy. Back in the fall, however, she invited me in when her husband and kids were out at the Science Center for the afternoon. We spent a few hours in her bed making each other happy, and I treasure the memory of her holding me tightly while I ejaculated inside her-the first man other than her husband to do so.
"We can protect you at my house," Leslie said with an innocent grin. "I've got pizza and wine and beer, and Ned took the kids to the concert on the downtown, so Karen can stay and guard you, too!"
The idea of spending time with both of them sounded good, even if I was a little worried about keeping two secrets at the same time. Pizza sounded good as well.
"Let's go," I said. With that, the three of us turned up Leslie's driveway and let their dogs run free in the backyard. We went in through the sliding glass doors on the deck and made our way to the kitchen. Leslie flicked on the lights, then poured three glasses of red wine. The pizza was warming in the oven, so we stood around sipping our drinks and talking about neighbor stuff.
"It's going to be about five more minutes," Leslie informed us after checking the pizza. "Let's go outside and watch the sunset."
That sounded fine, so we trailed outside and settled into her deep-cushioned deck chairs. Karen sat next to me, and Leslie faced us across the table.
"Thanks for protecting me," I said to both of them, raising my glass in a toast. We all clinked and took another sip before sinking back again.
"Well, we can't have you sitting around the house all alone, can we? You'd probably be on Tinder all night trying to get a horny 18-year old in a cheerleader outfit to come over and help you pack or something!" said Leslie with a wicked grin.
Karen smiled nervously, unaccustomed to Leslie's blunt way of speaking.
"I would never go after an 18-year old," I said with a straight face. "I'm holding out for a desperate 80-year old woman with a heart condition!"
That broke the tension, and Karen laughed in a relieved way.
"Besides-you're the Tinder expert, right?" I asked Leslie. She was the only single one there, after all. "That's got to be a huge hassle!"
"It is," she replied without a hint of embarrassment. "I spend all day swiping right just to see who's out there, and then all night deleting the stupid messages I get!"
"So no luck lately?" I asked her.
"Nada. If I wanted to be someone's MILF dream, I'm sure I could have three guys over here right now, or three women even, but then I'd definitely have to order some more pizza! I'm much happier sitting here with you guys. Besides," she said in a serious tone, catching Karen's eye, "we have a sacred duty to protect Steve from all the immoral women in the neighborhood, remember? We can't have women sneaking over all night to take advantage of him just because his wife is away!"
With that, she got up to check the pizza.
Karen, predictably, was stunned by Leslie's revelations. She had led a sheltered life, clearly, and hearing about Leslie's bisexual dating habits and all the teasing about protecting me from loose women was making her blush. In an effort to recover, she asked me shyly what Tinder was.
"It's a dating app for your phone," I told her. "You put up your profile, and you check out other people's pictures and stuff. If you like what you see, you swipe right. If you don't, you swipe left. Swiping right kinda means you're interested in hooking up, though, so you have to be selective."
"Unlike Leslie," she said somewhat disapprovingly.
"Leslie is selective," I told her. "She just like to throw herself out there to get a response!"
