Hot Sex Instead of Dancing

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*

With Bill not home and gone for a couple of days, Tiffany invites Walter inside for a drink.

Having seen her nearly naked now, he recalled the time he saw her topless before. A sight to behold, he was so glad that he was standing there at the end of the waterslide ride with his video camera at the ready. Never expecting it to happen, he couldn't believe when it did. She lost her bikini top and right there, if only for a few seconds, her breasts were exposed. He saw her tits. Even more than that, he recorded her losing her top on video.

He recorded her from the time she stood at the top of the slide and waved to the time she slid down to the bottom without her bikini bra. With Bill out of sight and out of mind, Walter was so glad that her husband was already standing in line and around the corner to go down the slide again. When Tiffany saw him standing there with the video camera, with her being the sexy minx she is, she smiled while clutching her bikini bra to her breasts. Then, as if she was back in the VIP room of the strip club, she did something totally unexpected. Giving him a sexy, albeit naughty smile, she moved her hands away from her naked breasts to flash him her tits before putting on her bikini bra.

'Wow! Now that's a set of knockers,' he said to himself.

Accustomed to seeing Linda's shapeless, flabby, B cup breasts, Tiffany had real tits, womanly breasts, and the kind of boobs that would make any man want her. With her being his number one woman to ogle, the entire flash, from the time she lost her top, to the time she deliberately flashed him her tits, and to the time she donned her bikini bra only took twenty seconds. Yet with him being such a voyeur and her apparently being such an exhibitionist that was the best twenty seconds of his life until now. Moreover, able to play her flashing her tits over and again, he had recorded her coming down the slide topless and flashing him her big boobs when she was standing at the bottom of the slide.

With the wind his perfect instrument and his natural accomplice of exhibitionism and voyeurism in lifting her robe to flash him her pussy, he couldn't believe it when a second gust of wind opened the top of her robe to flash him her tits. Then, thinking the show was over when she turned from him, the wind lifted the back of her robe to show him her naked ass. He'll be masturbating over all that he's seen of Tiffany for the rest of his life.

She had a beautiful ass. So round and so shapely, he'd love to touch her ass, feel her ass, fondle her ass, lick her ass, and even fuck her ass. By far, this windblown flash was even better than the waterpark flash. This windblown flash was much better than watching her clean her kitchen in her sexy nightgown. He only wished he had it all on video.

'Wow!'

First he saw her briefly, barely, and perhaps deliberately flashing him while putting on her bathrobe over her naked body as she walked towards him. Then with the cooperation of the unruly, errant wind, he saw her pussy, her tits, and her naked ass when the wind flashed him her naked body again. Never expecting to see anything of her when just inviting Bill out for a beer, he was stunned at seeing so very much of his friend's nearly naked wife. Now with him having seen so much of her, the naked image of her made him want her that much more. He couldn't wait to masturbate tonight while watching her clean her kitchen and recalling all that he's just seen of her.

Only now that he saw an appetizer of her naked body, he wanted to see more. He wanted to do more. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to touch and feel her in all the places that Bill touched and felt her.

As if her robe was the burning bush, as long as she wasn't burned in the fire, he wished her robe would suddenly spontaneously combust into flames. Ready to act fast, he imagined ripping her robe from her naked body to save her from being burned. Her hero, he imagined her pressing her naked body against him while showering him with kisses, long, wet, French kisses. Being so grateful to him for saving her beautiful body, he imagined her giving him permission to touch and feel her where only her husband is allowed to touch and feel her. Then, as his special reward for saving her from certain death, he imagined her falling to her knees while staring up at him and rewarding him with a blowjob, the best blowjob he's ever had in his life.

'May I suck your cock Walter?'

He imagined her giving him the sexy look that she gives Bill.

'Yes you may suck my cock Tiffany,' he imagined responding to her imagined question.

Now that he's seen so much of her, more than he's ever seen and more than he's imagined he would ever see, as if she was standing there naked, he could more clearly imagine that she was. Later tonight, while recalling her walking down her hall and putting her bathrobe over her naked body, he'll pull out his prick. Later tonight, after replaying the role of the errant wind in his mind, he'll sexually fantasize about her naked pussy, her naked breasts, and her naked ass before going to bed. Later tonight, after dreaming about removing her robe while kissing her and feeling her, he'll dream about her naked. Later tonight, with his wife in bed sleeping and with him watching Tiffany clean her kitchen in her sexy nightgown while wearing her pink, rubber gloves, he'll masturbate himself while thinking of having sex with Tiffany's naked body.

He'd love to take her in his arms and kiss her while touching and feeling her everywhere. He'd love to make love to her before fucking her. He'd love to promise her the world, if only she'd leave Bill for him. Only Bill would kill him if he ever dared kiss, touch, and feel his wife in such a disrespectful way, and there's no way she'd have a sexual affair with him when she's married to someone like Bill.

* * * * *

"Hi, Tiff, how are you?"

Unable to help himself from controlling his leering stare, after seeing her pussy, her tits, and her naked ass with the help of the gusty wind, he looked at her as if she was standing there naked.

'I need you. I want you. I must have you,' he imagined her saying in answer to his question. 'I'm so very lonely without you,' he imagined her telling him. 'I'm sexually unsatisfied without you sharing my bed,' he imagined her confessing. 'I'm nothing but a sexually frustrated woman without your love,' he imagined her saying what he longed to hear. 'I love you,' he imagined her finally telling him.

Instead, she said what he figured she'd say.

"I'm good," said Tiffany giving him a big, warm smile. "And you?"

He wished she'd hug him so that he could feel her nearly naked body through the thin, satin material of her robe. He wished the wind would blow up again and lift her robe over her head as if the wind was a Japanese sexual assaulter lifting a woman's dress over her head in the street or on the crowded subway. Alas, if only his imagination was his reality, he'd be such a happy man.

Seemingly, he was granted part of his wish when the tie on her robe suddenly loosened by the action of her merely struggling to open the sticking backdoor. Showing him more of her cleavage, perhaps trusting him not to ogle her, she didn't bother tightening her robe. Maybe she figured with him already seeing her tits last summer and her pussy, her tits, and her ass just a few moments ago, why bother fixing her robe now? Moreover, with her being an ex-stripper, she was used to walking around nearly naked and naked in front of men. Only with him being human and her so mesmerizing to look at, he couldn't help himself from staring at all that she was showing and at all that he was seeing.

"I'm good," said Walter. Instead he wanted to tell her how much he wanted her and had to have her.

With Tiffany standing two steps lower on the back stoop and with him raised on the crest of the incline in their driveway, with his eyes level with the top of her black, pretty head, she was giving him a great down bathrobe view of her spectacular breasts. Walter stared at Tiffany's cleavage while wishing his wife Linda had breasts like her breasts. Nearly forgetting why he was there, nearly forgetting he was married, and even what his wife's name was, he blurted out his question finally.

"Is Bill home?"

He felt uncomfortable lusting over his best friend's wife and silently berated himself for being such a despicable pig. He had to make a real effort to stare in her big brown eyes that were the color of caramel. Instead of staring at her long line of expose cleavage and the impressions her nipples made in her robe, mesmerized by her cat like eyes, he stared in her eyes. After the wind had acted as his sexual exhibitionistic partner in helping to expose more of her breasts, she was showing him a lot of cleavage, more cleavage than he's ever seen of her since she lost her bikini top at the waterpark.

He loved her sexy cleavage. He loved her shapely breasts. He wondered if her mother looked anything like her. He wondered if her mother had big tits, too. Hoping big, shapely tits ran in her family, she had amazing breasts.

He'd give his right arm to be the one who gave her a mammogram. Alas, they only hired women for that job. He wondered if he volunteered to do that job for free, if the hospital would hire him. Only, with his luck, the hospital probably already has a long list of perverted men offering to do that job without pay.

"So, what do you do for a living?"

"I give women mammogram tests," said a man to his friend.

"No shit. You lucky bastard," said his friend. "How'd you get that job? I've been trying to get that job for years. The last time I applied, security escorted me out the door. Tell me, if you don't mind my asking, how much does that job pay?"

"Nothing. I do it for nothing. I volunteered to squish women's between two pieces of glass," he said pausing to smile. "The benefits are twofold and when monograming a big breasted, the benefits are huge."

* * * * *

With her visible cleavage putting him in a dreamlike state, he imagined her donning her pink, rubber gloves to masturbate him. He could only imagine what it would feel like to fuck her big tits with his hard cock while she leaned her mouth down to suck him. Bill is such a lucky man to have such a hot wife, the hottest wife in the whole neighborhood, perhaps in the entire city.

Tiffany gave Walter a sexy smile that made him wish he was in bed with her and kissing her while touching her, feeling her, and fondling her everywhere a friend should never feel the wife of another friend. Ready to break the seventh commandment, Thou shall not commit adultery, he was ready to break the tenth commandment too, Thou shall not covet thy neighbor's wife. Moreover, if it's what he had to do to run away with Tiffany, ready to kill Bill, he'd break the sixth commandment too, Thou shall not kill. Obviously, after having seen so very much of her naked body, he was out of control with sexual lust for her.

"Sorry Walter. Bill's not home. He's gone for a couple of days visiting his sick mother," she said.

Walter felt bad for his friend and for his ailing mother but he felt good for himself that he was there alone with Tiffany, if even for only a few more seconds. Maybe the wind would pick up again to show him more of her beautiful body. Only, with the naked images of Tiffany holding his thoughts hostage, he couldn't think of what else to say to keep her there long enough for the wind to pick up again. After seeing her nearly naked body, his sexual lust for her had kidnapped his brain and he couldn't think of what else to say to keep her there.

"Oh," he said.

So beautiful to look at, he wished he could prolong their conversation so that he could stare at her longer. Only, tongue tied after seeing her pussy, her tits, and her naked ass, he couldn't think of anything else to say. Disappointed and wishing that he could spend some quality time with Bill and Tiffany, especially with Tiffany wearing that short, sheer robe, he was about to leave when she invited him inside. Instead of him having to make a play for her, she took the ball and ran with it and, as far as he was concerned, she scored a touchdown with her invitation for him to come inside.

"I was just about to have a drink," she said. "Would you like to join me? I hate drinking alone."

Huh? What? Seriously? Did she just say what he thought she said? She was about to have a drink? She's inviting him inside to join her? She hates drinking alone? Tempted to invite her to go for a drink with him, he'd much rather be alone with her in her house than in some crowded bar with him vying for her attention from other interested, horny men.

Suddenly, with his imagination working overtime, he imagined her drunk. He imagined her naked. He imagined her drunk and naked. He wished he knew what Bill Cosby's trick was to get his women naked and ready for sex. Only, he'd not a rapist. Not the type of man who'd drug a woman into having sex with him, just one step away from necrophilia, he'd rather have sex with a woman who was conscious instead of unconscious. He'd much rather have a willing partner and a woman who wanted to have sex with him as much as he wanted to have sex with her.

Now that Bill was away for a couple of days, he pondered the thought while wondering the possibilities. Is inviting him to have a drink with her the secret, extramarital code that she wants him to give her sex? Nah, she's his friend's wife. Someone who looks like her would never sexually proposition someone who looks like him. Someone with her great body would never want someone with his bad body.

"Sure," he said grabbing at the chance to be alone with Bill's hot, young, sexy wife, especially with her in that skimpy, little bathrobe.

Knowing full well that it wouldn't be, he only wished it was windy in her house. Maybe they had a fan. Maybe he could claim that he's hot and accidentally point the fan at the bottom of her bathrobe.

'Oops, sorry Tiffany. I didn't mean to blow your robe up in your face,' he imagined saying. 'How do I turn off the fan? No, that only turns the fan higher. Wow! You look as if you're a supermodel aboard a sailing ship on a windy day. Is that a mole on your ass? It's in the shape of a penis,' he imagined saying to her.

Nonetheless the lack of wind inside of her house, he imagined her sitting across from him while giving him down bathrobe views of her breasts and up bathrobe views of her pussy. After her having enough drinks to become tipsy, with her sitting across from him with her legs spread and her breasts exposed, he imagined kissing her while feeling her nearly naked body. He imagined her laying on the living room carpet with her robe flayed wide open and her inviting him to give her hot sex. Only, knowing better, the most he'd get from Bill's hot, young, sexy wife is a cold beer and a slap across the face should he say anything inappropriate or a knee in the balls should he make a pass at her. With her an ex-stripper, she's had to defend herself in all kinds of sexual encounters and against all types of sexual deviates.

* * * * *

He entered the house and she closed the door behind him. It felt weird to be in Bill's house without him. With his empty beer bottle collection, his sword collection, his die cast car collection, and the photos of him and his Harley hog on nearly every wall, his presence was stamped and imbedded all over that house. As if he was there, he could feel him. Bill's son and daughter didn't live with him. They lived with their mother in another state. It was just Tiffany and Bill and now just Tiffany and Walter.

Walter wished Tiffany was his wife. Suddenly he envied Bill. Tiffany was Bill's second wife. Correcting all of the mistakes he made when marrying his first wife, his second wife is the woman that guys would choose if they could have a second chance of having a second wife and a better life. Black, busty, and beautiful with big, brown eyes, she was everything Walter's wife wasn't. In the way his wife, Linda, wreaked of Ben Gay mixed with Jean Nate, Tiffany wreaked of sexual pheromones mixed with the sweat scent of peach, strawberry body lotion.

Being alone with Tiffany now was like being alone with a pretty woman from the cosmetic counter of a large department store while wishing he was buying perfume for her instead of for his wife. Being alone with her now was like being with the beautiful woman from the car show and being told that he can leave with her and with any car he wants on the showroom floor for free. Only my God, better than any cosmetician at the department store and better than any model at the auto show, he'd willingly give up a free automobile to spend quality time with Bill's wife. He was so happy to be alone with her and the fact that he saw her black, trimmed pussy, her big tits, and her naked ass was an added, priceless bonus. He'll be masturbating over all that he saw of her for the rest of his sad, little life.

While imagining she was crazy about him, being alone with Tiffany now was like being with a porn star who not only knew but also was okay with the fact that he got off watching her having sex with other men. Being alone with Tiffany now was as if being taken to the private VIP room with a stripper who didn't just like him for just his money but also for his smile. Being alone with Tiffany now was something that he wished he could experience every day for the rest of his pitiful life. Being alone with Tiffany now was something that he'll remember for the rest of his life and a memory he'll forever recall over and again while masturbating.

"What would you like?"

What would he like? A loaded question, he already had a two page, pre-written, sexual list formulated in his mind with all the things that he'd like from Tiffany, starting with a blowjob. Oh, yeah, he'd love to look down to see her looking up at him with those big, baby brown eyes with his hard, hairy cock in her mouth. He'd love nothing more than to feel her big tits and finger her erect nipples while she sucked his prick. Filled with all of the voyeuristic and exhibitionistic things he'd like to do with her, he'd like to run away with her.

He'd love to stand on a stepstool while peering at her beautiful breasts down her open bathrobe. He'd love to lay on the floor with her straddling over him while he stared at her naked pussy up her open bathrobe. With him never tiring of the sexy show, as if he was caught in the Twilight Zone, he'd love to watch her undress and dress over and again. He loved to see her parading around him in her panty and bra. He loved to see her topless. He'd love to see her naked. He'd just love to see her, talk to her, and be with her every day.

He'd love to watch her sleeping. He'd love to watch her taking a shower. He'd love to watch her masturbate her naked body in front of him and without modesty. With her sucking him and fucking him, he'd love to watch her having sex with Bill. He loved to see all of the naked photos and videos she must have hidden away on her computer. What would he like? He'd love to kiss her, lick her, and fuck her. Instead of asking her for what he really wanted, he'd settled for a beer.

"I'll have a beer if you have one," he said knowing that Bill always had beer in the fridge.

She opened the fridge and handed him a beer. Then, as if using it for courage, she poured herself a shot of vodka, drank that, poured a second one, drank that, and poured herself a third one. She gulped down that one too. Surprised by her drinking shots, he never saw her drinking a shot of anything before. When she wasn't drinking wine, she always drank mixed drinks, drinks with fancy fruit and little umbrellas in special glasses.