The story of two neighbors and their friendship. There are scenes of one-on-one romantic sex (MF), group sex and bisexual sex (MM and FF). If this is not your thing, move on. Otherwise, enjoy, comment and vote.
I woke the next morning and quietly slipped out of bed. I ventured into the kitchen and made a big pot of coffee. When I went into the bedroom, Sam was rousing. "How do you like your coffee?"
"Milk and two sugars, babe." I prepared her coffee and returned to the bedroom where we quietly sipped. "What a mess we made. I have to strip this bed." She got up, placed the linens in the washing machine and turned it on. "Take a shower with me?"
We showered and tenderly scrubbed each other. No sex, no talking but it was sensual nonetheless. After, we dried off and sat in the living room to drink more coffee. "So, let's talk more about yesterday, it's been on my mind. I want to work this out," she said. "I liked the sex but only for a while. Then I got a funny vibe and signaled you that it was time to leave. What was going on there? And tell me about what triggered you about East Hampton?"
"I don't know exactly but I do know that they were liars. Look, I lived in East Hampton for over forty years so I knew the place and most of the residents. It's a small town and a very wealthy one with artists, celebrities, writers and every now and then a scam artist. First off, they described where they lived in East Hampton and it was all wrong. I threw in some streets and locations that were nowhere near where they said the lived. The street that they claimed to live on was in one of the glitzier sections of town with houses going from five million to fifty million. It was in the western part of East Hampton, too. So I knew that they were making it up when they changed the subject quickly. They were poseurs or scammers."
"I knew that you had caught him in a lie. And I agree about the so-called inexperience. I call bullshit. But, to tell you the truth, I really didn't care at that moment. I was about to go down on her and I really wanted the experience. I wanted to taste her and I did. I'm proud of myself. Let me ask you something, do you prefer a penis or a vagina?"
"Oh, definitely a vagina but occasionally, I do like to suck and swallow cock. It feels good in my mouth. Don't you agree about how that feels?"
"Oh, I do. I was never really into oral though. Harold was smaller than you and wasn't a very creative lover. Neither was I, for that matter. Do you know how long I wanted to discover why men like to go down on women? And now, I learned why - because it is delicious and empowering and exciting and..."
"Good for you. And I saw how you really got into it and enjoyed it. I could tell how much you really liked it. I should tell you that every vagina is different; the way they feel, the way they smell and the texture. Vicky had a beautiful pussy for you to have your first taste. But we don't have to see them again. You know, after we left, I had the weirdest vibe about them. I wondered what they were really doing down here. I thought that maybe they were embedded Russian spies observing the Navy Base."
"You're letting your imagination run away. Do not give them any more thought. Now, let's talk about us and this incredible sex we are having. Did you sleep well?"
"Indeed, I did. I haven't slept like that in a very long time. I don't think I got up in the middle of the night to pee. I was out."
"So was I...and very contented. Why do you think our sex is so good?"
"For one thing, we are having sex with our minds and not thinking of how our bodies react, they just do. It is a natural response. I call this 'gourmet sex.' That is when you transcend the mundane and experience a totality, completely submitting to creating something shared. Last night, in your bed, was exceptional, gourmet sex."
"Gourmet sex. I like that. It was completely different from anything I have ever felt and it was awesome. I didn't even know that my vagina could do tricks like that. When I was married to Harold, we never had sex like that. Never, not even in the beginning of our relationship. To be honest, I never knew any better. Sex was sex. Close your eyes and do it. Last night, you moved me up a few pegs. Thank you."
"When I was married, I didn't know any better either. My wife laid on her back, spread her legs and I simply waited on her and served her pleasure. Fortunately, for me, after my divorce I met people who taught me how good sex can be. Last night was an illustration. Sexually, we click."
"Oh, that is the truth, Ray. I'll follow you anywhere if I can feel that again."
"Now don't place any pressure on yourself. This is not a performance test. If you just let yourself flow, and you stay in the moment, you can have a satisfying encounter. And, probably the most important aspect is that there is trust between us, and that is true, there does seems to be trust."
"Oh, yeah. I felt that, too. I trust you. We're on the same side."
I left a little while later and started my workday at my computer. She drove off to tend to errands. I thought about her a lot. It occurred to me that she was no longer annoying. Apparently, it was nerves that made her jabber so much and now that her nerves had eased, she settled down. Over the next few weeks, we had stumbled into an easy relationship despite the coronavirus lockdown. We had great sex a few times a week, we had trust and honesty and we reveled in our comfort. We explored Sam's curiosity over many aspects of sex. For example, one night, Sam asked me to explore her ass. Well lubricated, she sat down on my cock and managed to get it in a few inches. However, it hurt her and we stopped. I figured that there would be more opportunities to come.
Sam spent her days on the computer. She was searching for a waterfront condominium to move into and was busy checking different ones out online. Some looked promising but walk-throughs were put on hold during the pandemic. It seemed that life outside had not progressed. Although the government was trying to restart the economy by reopening businesses, the doctors were telling us to stay quarantined, that the virus had yet to peak. Whom are you supposed to believe? We stayed indoors and went masked on the few times we went outside. Everyone was wearing masks and many wore gloves, too. Several of my neighbors went through the hospital experience and survived. A few did not. I lost some people with whom I had been close. This was a motherfucker. We stayed inside mostly.
On one boring day, I was feeling ambitious so I called Sam and asked her if she would like a creole-cajun meal that night. Most of the day, I spent preparing. The red beans had set in water overnight. The shrimp marinated for a few hours. The house smelled like a bayou town. I'd been listening to Louisiana music all day and so the mood was set. I even went out and picked up some Abita Beer.
When she walked in, I held two bottles of beer and a few strands of beads. "Hey lady, show me your tits!" I yelled. In the best Bourbon Street tradition, she lifted up her shirt and shook her tits. I threw the beads and handed her a beer. Our little party had started. "Laissez les bon temps roulez!". A Buckwheat Zydeco record played and it made for an instant party.
"What are we celebrating? Mardi Gras?"
"No. Today is usually the second weekend of Jazzfest but this year, it was cancelled. So, in the spirit of New Orleans and Jazzfest, let's party."
"I've never been to New Orleans. Is it a cool place?"
"During Jazzfest is the best. The weather is perfect, the music is sublime, the food is unbelievable and the sex is explosive. Is it a cool place. Very." We clinked bottles. "Bottoms up. Are you ready for some fine dining, Madame?"
"Mais oui, monsieur."
I served up some blackened shrimp in a raspberry aioli with it's tail stuck in a piece of cornbread, not a lot, just enough to turn on the taste buds. "Wow, this is delicious."
