I crept down the stairs like a ninja assassin, careful to avoid making any sound that would disturb my wife's slumber. I had promised to wake her the same way she woke me the previous morning, which would be difficult to pull off with my head on the stairs and not between her legs.
She had a bit of a temper. Especially when it came to unfulfilled sexual promises. I didn't dare fuck around there, if I knew what was good for me.
However, I'd been eagerly anticipating an encrypted text message from my development team and couldn't wait to come downstairs to get my phone. We didn't keep our cell phones in the bedroom. Ever. I knew better.
I activated my phone, opened the app my company designed for sending secure communications, and saw the message I'd been waiting for.
It works!
I silently pumped my fist, then set my phone back down. It was time to head back upstairs and fulfill my promise to my wife, my libido now supercharged on account of the big news.
Just as I set my foot on the first stair, the doorbell rang. I froze, listening for any hint that my fiery goddess had stirred. I backed away from the stairs slowly, padding toward the front door wearing only a black ribbed tank top and light gray athletic shorts.
I opened the massive wooden front door to find standing on my porch, a smoking hot twenty-something blue-eyed blonde, whose smile could light up a sports stadium. She looked like an advertisement for Lululemon, with her royal blue yoga pants and white racerback shirt both bearing the brand's logo. Wearing a pair of white Adidas trainers, and with her hair back in a ponytail, she appeared to have dropped by on her way to the gym. She truly looked like the prototypical Orange County trophy wife.
"Hi, neighbor," she greeted me, flashing me that incredible smile. "I'm Sydney Jacobs. I live a few doors down and wanted to come by to say hello."
"Hi, Sydney," I returned her greeting, trying to keep my voice down while one ear stayed alert for sounds that might trumpet my demise. "I'm Damien. Damien Hughes. Thank you for welcoming us. It's nice to meet you."
Thinking back on it, I recalled seeing Sydney a few days earlier when the moving and delivery trucks were dropping off belongings, new and old. She stood on the driveway of a house nearby with a guy who appeared to be in his fifties; they seemed to be checking out the new neighbors. She stood out to me when I saw her because she appeared to be the only face I'd seen in our gated community who was under the age of forty other than me and my wife.
"Of course," she continued. "You're not going to get a welcome wagon in this neighborhood. Half the houses are vacation homes, so they're empty half the year. And the ones that are lived in, well, it's mostly older couples and they're not really interested in socializing with people in their twenties. You and your... wife?"
"Wife," I confirmed.
"You and your wife are the only people around here who seem to be around my age. I figured I'd try to make a good first impression in the hope that we could be friends."
"Where the fuck are you?!" I cringed as I heard the shout from the bedroom upstairs. I glanced at Sydney apologetically, while her eyes went wide. She must have been wondering what she'd stepped in.
"You promised I'd wake up to your head between my legs this morning!" the angry female voice continued. "If you ever want to wake up to another blowjob, you better get your ass back here!"
Sydney's eyes went from wide and shocked, to narrow and amused. I shrugged.
"Where the fuck are you?!"
I shouted back up the stairs. "I'm at the front door saying hi to our new neighbor, Syndey Jacobs."
"Oh." The voice was softer, barely audible. The shouting voice returned. "Say hello for me and invite her over for a barbeque tonight. Then get your ass back up here. And bring coffee. You have ten minutes."
I smiled abashedly at Sydney who was grinning at me like the cat who ate the canary. "Would you like to come over for a barbecue tonight? Say five o'clock?"
"Charles and I would be delighted," she answered in a mocking fancy voice. "Can we bring anything?"
"Nah, we'll take care of it. Any food allergies or drink preferences?"
"No food allergies," she said. "I prefer white wine. Charles prefers beer or scotch, but I'll warn you he's a bit snobby about both."
"I think we can accommodate you," I responded with a smile. "Um, I better get going. I'm on the clock," I added quietly.
The blinding smile returned. "We'll see you tonight." As I was about to close the door, the smile shifted to a mischievous grin and she added softly, "Don't forget the coffee."
Eight minutes later, I walked up the stairs briskly, skipping every other step, with a latte in hand. When I entered the bedroom, my heart skipped a beat and my jaw fell open.
Lying in our California king-sized bed, naked as the day she was born, with her knees up and toned legs spread wide, was the hottest woman I'd ever seen. Her long reddish-copper hair was fanned out on the pillow behind her, a perfect complement to her fair complexion. Her left hand cupped a perky, pale breast, rolling a light pink nipple between teal-painted fingernails.
Glancing down, I saw the fingers of her right hand moving lazily as she toyed with her glistening sex, her palm resting atop a copper-tinted bush. Expecting that I would be going down on her, she'd groomed appropriately, shaving and trimming the excess to leave a wonderful triangle of her fiery red curls above her slit. She knew how much a red bush turned me on.
"Fuck, you're sexy," I exhaled.
"Uh-uh," she rebuked, her striking aquamarine eyes narrowing and locking me into her gaze. "I don't want to hear anything out of that mouth until it's made me come. Twice."
I grinned, then made my way quickly to her. I tossed the coffee behind me. We had hardwood floors. The cleaners could handle it.
I jumped on the bed and dove in, my hands wrapping under and around her firm thighs, yanking them apart. She gasped as I spread her forcefully. I lapped her already wet channel, repeatedly gliding my tongue from her entrance to her clit as she gently gyrated her hips, moaning softly.
My lips and tongue locked in on her nub, while I simultaneously penetrated her slick tunnel with my fingers. She rolled her head back and closed her eyes, letting out soft, submissive moans while she ran her fingers through my blonde hair.
I knew my wife. Knew her body, knew her pleasure points, and knew her signs. She was so worked up; it wasn't going to take much to get her to come.
"You fucking bastard," she said breathily, hips rolling more urgently while her hands began to pull at my short hair. "Talking with the neighbor when you should have been licking my pussy."
She gave a squeak that made my hard cock throb, then she continued. "Was she hot?"
"Mmhmm," I moaned, my lips and tongue preoccupied with sucking, licking and flicking her magic button.
"Fucking bastard," she panted out, no real anger behind the words. She was too close to climaxing. "I bet you wanted to fuck her."
I pulled up for a second, knowing it would piss her off. "There's only one woman I want to fuck." I quickly got back to work.
"I didn't give you permission to speak," she moaned as I flicked her clit and stroked the sensitive spot on her inner walls. She writhed and moaned as I continued to take her to the brink. "You only want to fuck one woman, huh?"
