"...Without a word, I stood up in front of her. The blanket, which now was around my shoulders, came with me, exposing her again. My cock waved back and forth in front of me as I straightened up to my full height. Her eyes widened as if she expected a renewed assault on her now sensitive sex. I turned, picked up my clothes and began dressing. It was difficult to zip up with a protruding hard on and no underwear, but I managed and began walking towards the door. As I reached for the knob, I turned and looked back at her where she sat, exhausted, and spent. Her mouth hung open in surprise that I wasn't staying to "get mine" and she clearly was at a loss for words.
I checked to see that my clothes were straight, turned back to her, and said, 'That'll leave ya with plenty to think about until next time.'"
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I've been lax in adding on to this series. The second installment of this story was submitted almost a year ago today, but even though Joyce and I have had other encounters since then, I just didn't take the time to detail them for your enjoyment. I apologize...or maybe I'm flattering myself in thinking that you'd want to read more about Joyce's hot little body and my interest in it.
Twice more Joyce and I had had our fun and once, Sheila even joined in. Joyce's drinking buddy got involved after a day of oddities that ended with everyone in the sack and the two women having their first chance at lesbian love. It started when Sheila one day angrily confronted me in my garage. I looked around to see who else might see this, afraid that she would announce something inappropriate to the neighborhood and ruin what I had at home, let alone what I had with Joyce.
Sheila had started in on the drinking early it seemed and as she marched across the street in her heels, I saw her stagger a bit and almost twist an ankle on the curb as she stepped out of the road into my yard.
"What's wrong with you, asshole?" she fired at me.
I looked up from the V-8 engine I was putting the finishing touches on and stood up straight to see what the issue was. She slowed her purposeful walk and stopped in front of me, the fire still in her eyes.
"Whatever it is, lower your voice, please." I looked over my shoulder at the house, trying to make her think that my girl would hear if she had a violent outburst. Hopefully, whatever she was mad about wasn't so bad that she would jeopardize everything for me.
"Oh, fuck off," she said, emphasizing the "off". "I know that your girlfriend left twenty minutes ago. 'Matter o' fact, I just saw her up at the store getting' gas." Her hands made fists and rested on her hips as she waited expectantly for me to apologize even though I still didn't know what I'd done. A mental catalogue of my wrong doings started to form in my head, or at least the wrong doings that had happened in Joyce's house that Sheila might know about.
I thought to myself, "Let's see: There's the cumstain on the edge of the couch, the destroyed thong, the violation of Joyce's tiny asshole with my cock, the death of her son's fish from when Joyce's son's aquarium was once in the way of our enthusiastic fuck session, and the only other thing that I could think of was something that Joyce had told me about and we'd gotten a good laugh about. I'd gotten good at getting Joyce to secrete huge amounts of girl cum and she'd soaked a couch cushion once. Later, she told me that before she could stop her, Sheila had unknowingly sat on the wet spot, getting her skirt and ass wet in the process.
But none of these justified Sheila coming into my garage and making this scene. It had to be something else than what was on my list.
Well, it turned out that Sheila is a Literotica reader and was angry that I'd described in detail the two different times that Joyce and I had gotten naked. Through sheer luck, she'd found the stories and read with growing interest as she'd realized that I was describing her friend, the house, and its contents. From my descriptions, she'd concluded that I was the writer and therefore the one fucking her friend, a secret that Joyce had not shared with her. The "concern" she was currently showing was based on her initial anger at being cut out of the details of Joyce's escapades and then the anxiety towards my stories which she claimed, could also "out" Joyce and me to our neighborhood.
Once I'd realized that the issue wasn't really an issue, I made the mistake of laughing at her. "That's all?" I thought. "This can't be such a huge issue that she'd march over here and confront me over it." My barely concealed laugh angered her more. Her eyes reddened but I wasn't sure if this was from the booze she'd obviously already imbibed or out of genuine frustration.
"You can't be writing about her like that. Her son might see it, the neighbors might see it, hell, I saw it." I stopped laughing but I still wasn't taking it very seriously.
"Don't you think? What if you had ruined her life with that crazy story?"
"Crazy?" Now it was my turn to ask the questions. "What's so crazy about it? And let me ask you something now. What are you doing reading Literotica? You certainly don't scour every erotic site on the web in an effort to protect your friend. Did you get a good session out of it? Did you enjoy my writing or do you think I'm a hack?" I figured that I'd turn it back on her just to deflect all the criticism that she was aiming at me.
She opened her mouth as if to speak, she stopped, and then her cheeks turned red. "Sounds to me like if you were able to find those two stories about Joyce on a site that literally has thousands of erotic tales, you might spend a bit too much time on the bed with your fingers between your legs."
Her eyes widened, but I didn't let her off the hook. "Or do you use a tool? Dildo? Vibrator?" I watched her face; she wouldn't look up at me. "Maybe a knobby glass something or other sliding over and over into your slippery snatch?"
Her breath caught in her throat.
"Ever taste yourself? Maybe push a little something up your own butt? Do you like that? What do you fantasize about when you get yourself off? Is it a big cock ramming into you or a pretty girl sucking on your clit? What pushes your buttons, Sheila?"
Apparently, she was not used to strangers speaking so frankly to her about her masturbatory habits. (Come on, I'm not a stranger. I'm her best friend's secret fuck buddy. We're practically friends.) I stepped towards her, mainly to scare her a little into thinking that it was her I wanted. Without thinking, she stepped back quickly. Too quickly in fact, because she lost her already questionable balance and started to fall backwards. I moved quickly and caught her before she fell against the Ranchero. (I'll be damned if she was going to mess up the original paint job.)
