Between the Sheets

Anyway…there I was last night handing out candy to the neighborhood kids and hoping that they’d be done soon so I could grab a drink at the bar, when I caught a glimpse of the girl next door also handing out candy. She was dressed in almost nothing (I’m sure the neighborhood moms will be talking about that one…), and her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, the fluffy curls bouncing down to her shoulders. She was wearing a leopard print bra and undies, with a green sarong tied around her waist and fake ivy snaking around her arms. Jane? Which meant that J* must be dressed as…

I gasped as I saw him in the light of the doorway and couldn’t take my eyes off of him as a chorus of children yelled “Trick or Treat!” and grabs handfuls of Milky Ways and Dum-Dums from my outstretch bowl. There he stood, Tarzan, wearing just a (bulging) loin cloth outfit that slung over one shoulder. I instantly felt like turning off my damn porch light and running across the yard to pounce on those six-pack abs. With an outfit like that, I didn’t even car that his wife was watching me stare.

J*’s eyes locked to mine and we both beamed at one another. It has been impossible not to think about J* ever since our brief meeting (aka janitor’s closet fuck) at the football game, but I was still nervous about being too friendly with his wife around. In the beginning, the three of us got along well, but it was she who called the shots. The girl next door invited me over for threesomes, held me on the edge until commanding me to cum, and watched as J* used every hole on my body before cumming on my face. But she knew. She knew that I had fallen for her husband, and that I kept coming back because I was in love (well, love is strong…in lust) with J*, not because I enjoyed time with both of them. And when she began to suspect that I was pursuing him, she closed me out of her life.

He had not been able to close me out of his. Oh, and he tried, but nevertheless, there we were, fucking at the football game, which was clearly against the rules of their marriage. Threesomes were fine. Affairs were not. J* was officially cheating.

And oh, I love that power. The girl next door is raw beauty, driven, successful, eloquent. She’s what I’m not. But, she no longer had a successful relationship. I felt better than her.

Last night, I saw her eyes narrow a bit, watching her husband look at me. I walked back inside and turned my lights off at around 10. A few minutes later, the phone rang. It was her, and she was panting, out of breath, moaning.

“Roooori, darling. Uhhhhh…what are you doing?” she gasped.

J* was fucking her. He was fucking her and she called me.

“Nothing.” I replied

“Oohhh, fuck, yes. Ohh…Rori, can you come over? FUCK! Ah! Ah! The door’s open. Come over, darling, we miss you.”

Click.

Until that moment, my night had been all about the treats. Now it was time for some tricks.