Very Good Neighbors

I don't know why I'm bothering with this note here. This story is FICTION. If you don't like fiction, go somewhere else. I will delete comments that make personal attacks on me or any other reviewer.

The Players

The Boxers, Liz (43) and Walt (46), and the Coles, Wanda (42) and Tim (46), had been neighbors for years. They raised their families together and were almost like one family. Walt Jr. (Wally) and the Cole's daughter, Nancy had been friends throughout their childhood and now were both attending the same university about one-hundred miles from home.

With the youngsters, there had never been any romantic involvement. They were just good friends. In fact Nancy (19) was presently going with a boy two years her senior who lived in town and had recently graduated from college. Wally (18) was dating a pretty young woman who was two years his senior.

The Story

It's Thanksgiving weekend and it's homecoming weekend at the university. The kids are at home on break. Tickets have been obtained and both families including the girlfriend and the boy friend are going to the game.

The four young people were in the Boxer's car with Wally driving, and the parents were in the Cole's car with Tim driving and they spent a wonderful day together. It was chilly but they had brought blankets and cover-ups to make themselves comfortable. But all in all, it turned out to be a great day and the home team won.

After the game they went to one of their favorite restaurants for dinner and then headed home. It was almost dark and the skies were turning ugly. As they were leaving the restaurant they heard that there had been a bad accident on the Interstate. They decided to take the alternate route home. A good road but much less traveled since the Interstate was built.

About forty-five minutes from home, the skies opened up and torrential rain poured down along with thunder and lightning. Unusual at this time of year, but not unheard of. A sudden terrible loud crash and flash of intense light made everyone jump as the hair on their necks raised. Lightning had struck a tree not fifteen feet from them and there was that acrid smell in the air and some small flames up the trunk of the tree. The Cole's car, which was following the kids in the Boxer's immediately experienced a loss of power and in a moment, the engine died as the instrument panel lit up. Tim braked to a stop and tried to start the car, but to no avail.

Wally, having seen them drop back and stop, backed up to ascertain what happened. Walt and Tim agreed that there was not much sense in getting soaked trying to find a problem they probably couldn't fix even if they found it. Tim knew of an old hunting lodge that was just a few miles behind them.

The plan was to get everyone to the lodge. It was old and hadn't been use for years but it would provide a shelter and maybe even some firewood. They could not all ride home in one car so once at the lodge, the kids would drive home drop off the boyfriend and the girlfriend and then Wally would return and bring a tow bar with him.

Two trips to the lodge were made and then the youngsters headed for home. The parents kept the blankets and set themselves up for the wait. Unfortunately, even with moving swiftly and expeditiously as possible, everyone was soaking wet by the time everything was done and the kids were on their way. It was also approaching midnight. Walt told Wally not to attempt a return if was too tired when they got home.

There was a little wood and trash that enabled them to build a small fire. Everyone stripped to their underwear, bundled up, and cuddled close together. The conversation, mostly recollections of times past, was interrupted by Walt's cell phone ringing.

The kids were almost home. But, there was an old bridge, about twenty miles from here. The Highway Patrol had let them across just before they closed it down. The normally small river was already beginning wash across the roadbed. They probably wouldn't be able to get back to us before morning.

There was no problem. Things weren't the most comfortable but there was a large area in front of the fireplace where the roof wasn't leaking so they had a dry place to stay. There were blankets, there was the cooler that had drinks, a thermos with a fair amount of coffee, and a reasonable supply of snacks. And to everyone's delight, there was over a half bottle of scotch. Everyone would be fine until tomorrow.

They were not able to get right off to sleep. So they talked and shared the scotch which warmed them internally and created that nice warm and comfortable glow. The conversation slowly moved to more personal subjects and finally it drifted into little secrets, secret wishes, and fantasies.

The talk was nothing blatant, but mostly little suggestive thoughts or innuendos. The two women lay next to each other with the men to the outside. Everyone had been bundled in their own blanket, but as the talk warmed up and the scotch took effect, it was not long before each couple was sharing their blankets and hands were becoming active.

The conversation had taken a turn and was beginning to become more suggestive and risqué. Walt was shocked when Liz announced that she was really enjoying the stories she found in Literotica after finding the site in Walt's bookmarks. What was really shocking was the reluctant admission that all of them had read stories on the site from time-to-time.

They all had a good laugh and whatever embarrassment there may have been melted in the warm glow they were feeling. As the new found subject blossomed, Walt was actually somewhat shocked with what Liz was saying. He had never suspected the sexuality that seemed to be hidden in that beautiful woman he called his wife.

Liz was really into it when she started to relate one story she had read of two couples who had been friends for a very long time and were caught in a situation much like the four of them were in right now.

* * * * * *

The Author Takes a Break

Honey, I don't think I am going to finish this story. In fact, I don't think I'll write any more stories."

"What's wrong sweet? You having writer's block?"

"No, nothing like that. I was just looking at the comments I have received on the story I submitted a few weeks ago and just think it is a waste of time. So many comments are so rude, nasty, and personal. I don't need that."

"Well don't just abandon ship, let's talk about it."

"I don't see anything to talk about."

"Well there is. You're letting a few ignorant asses talk you down. They would be thrilled if they thought their remarks made you quit."

"But here, look for yourself at some of the horrible comments."

"Yeah, I see them. I recognize the same trash talk that I always receive on mine. But look down here at these wonderful comments you have received also. Now let's analyze the situation. We are submitting stories to a free Internet site. If we allow it, people are permitted to make comments. Unfortunately, where there are perks, such as being published for free, there are also assholes who will try to ruin them.

"Now let's consider what you want. You want to write erotic stories that people will read and enjoy. And you would like constructive criticism and maybe a few pats on the back. Right?"

"Yes."

"OK, now of course, you could not allow comments and that would get rid of the asshole comments. But it also deprives you of the help provided in the good comments. And you deprive the people who like the stories of a chance to express themselves to you. So turning off the comments is not really a viable option.

"So let's look at the situation. First, you can tell by the nasty comments that they have no idea that you are a woman. They don't know if you're squat and fat, or tall and willowy. They don't know if you're eighteen or one-hundred and eighty years old. In short, if you could walk right up to one and tell them your real name, they would simply look at you with a 'so what' expression.

If you went on and told them your author name they would probably beat a cowardly retreat because the last thing they are capable of doing is saying to your face what they have said in their comments.

"OK, now let's look at your score. Wow, 4.65. Honey, that's a 93% approval. That's damned good. Now look at the number of persons who have gone to your story. We don't know how many read the entire story, we also don't know how many of them graded the story but we can see that the total number who have written comments is a very small percentage. We can also see that the nasty comments represent less than twenty-five percent of the comments. From those facts, the only thing we can know for a certainty is that of those who graded the story, a very significant percentage of them rated the story as a five."

"How do we know that?"

"Think sweetie. Your score is 4.65. If the majority of the scores were only four and you factor in the zero's, one's, and two's, and a few five's, your score wouldn't reach 4.00."

"You're right."

"Now, let's go back and look at the comments. You see, there are a lot of good or well meaning comments. Note that most of the trash came soon after the story was released. That tells me we have a group of sickies who perch on a branch like vultures waiting for a new story to appear. This gives them the opportunity to unleash a torrent of crap that they wouldn't do to your face and wouldn't do it in any situation where they could be accountable. In short, you are being harassed by a small bunch of sick-o's.

"So, just ignore them and keep writing for that much larger audience who loves your work. What do you think the sick-o's would say if they ever found out that a male and a female are writing and submitting stories under the same name?"

"Thanks honey. You're right. I just have never given thought to the fact that there are lots of sick-o's out there and what safer place for them to roost than under the cover of the comments."

* * * * * *

Back to the story

Liz then proceeded to recount what happened in the story she read. Of course it culminated in a wife swap. She was not too graphic in recounting the story, but she included enough detail to let everyone know that the experience was very erotic for the characters involved and none of them regretted their actions later. Also the language she was using and her mannerisms was telling the other three that Liz was past her limit on alcohol. It is doubtful she normally would have related the story to Walt, let alone anyone else.

As she finished the story, there were several knowing snickers and then everything was quiet for a few moments. Only the snapping of the small fire and the rain on the roof broke the silence. Suddenly, Wanda grabbed a blanket, stood up, and headed for what used to be the bathroom. "I've got to go pee."

Once more, all was quiet again, obviously with everyone having their private thoughts while Wanda was gone. Probably two or three minutes passed and then, what happened shocked both Walt and Tim. It happened so fast that neither knew what to say or how to react.

Liz rolled away from Walt. As she did, she rolled out from under the blankets they were sharing, lifted the blanket covering Tim, and rolled up next to him. Using both hands she pulled his face to hers and planted a hot, wet kiss on him.

She broke the kiss, pulled her face from his and asked in a rather sexy, soft voice, "Did you like that Tim?"

Before he could answer, she pulled his face to her again and planted another kiss; this time her tongue was probing. More as a natural reflex than any intent, Tim opened his mouth and dueled her tongue with his.

The kiss was broken by an ear piercing scream, "Tim, what in the hell are you doing?" as Wanda stood over them.

They broke the kiss and Liz rolled over and looked up at her and in a coy little voice slurred, "Why Wanda, I'm surprised you had to ask. I'm kissing your husband."

"Liz, you're drunk. Now move over so I can lie down. And you get to sleep."

"Wanda, there's room behind me (indicating the space she had vacated minutes ago). Lie down there and take care of poor Walt. I know he would love for you to kiss him."

Walt had found his voice and his senses by now and told Liz to stop being silly and to move back to him.

Liz wasn't yielding and was trying to get another kiss. Wanda was getting cold with the strong breeze whipping her blanket and she got down on the floor where Liz had been and then from the back tried to pull Liz off her husband.

They all became involved in the tussle trying to get Liz back where she belonged. They finally succeeded in restoring order. But when the conversation resumed it became funny as the three tried to put Liz in her place as the monster witch after having 'attacked' Tim.

Liz was fairly good natured about it and tried to offer some rationale for old neighbors getting to know each other better. But finally she said she wanted to go to sleep. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief and started to kiss goodnight and adjust for sleeping.

However, the adjusting was not entirely meant for sleeping. The story had kindled some sparks. Liz was lightly stroking Tim's cock and he had the palm of one hand rubbing her pussy and the other was caressing her tit; she had unfastened her bra . Tim had two fingers in Wanda whose panties were down about her knees and she was thinking of taking him in her mouth.

Just as things appeared to be getting quiet again, Liz spoke up sounding somewhat contrite. "Wanda, would you mind if I gave you and Tim a kiss goodnight?"

Wanda, wanting to humor her, and thinking she wanted to make amends, sighed and indicated it would be alright.

Liz turned over and gave Wanda a soft gentle kiss on the lips. At this point the various love connections had been broken. But it became obvious in the next few seconds that Liz was not as drunk as they thought she was. To kiss Tim she had to go over the top of Wanda.

Her movement was a copy of what she did before. As she slipped from under her blanket and under Wanda and Tim's blanket she dragged Walt's hand with her as she rolled and pushed his hand down into Wanda's crotch, not realizing there were no panties there. One of her breast came to rest in Wanda's face. She then released Walt's hand and reached over and grabbed Tim's cock as her lips met his.

The effect of her actions was like a bomb exploding in the midst of them. They had all been playing around and they were all aroused to some degree. Walt, although shocked, did not remove his hand from Wanda when Liz let his hand go. In fact he found himself pressing down and rubbing just ever so slightly over her smooth, hot, and damp pussy.

Since Tim's hand had been there just moments ago, Wanda didn't react immediately when another hand rested there. Something made her slip her tongue out and lightly lick Liz's nipple.

Likewise, Tim didn't react when a hand took his cock again. It really didn't register that it was another hand. Liz's soft lips and searching tongue just seemed to fit the overall mood.

The action didn't last more than four or five seconds. Liz broke the kiss, let go of Tim's cock and picked herself up off of Wanda. Looking down at her, "Why don't you let me slip in here and you move over to Walt? Walt, would you be OK with that?"

"What? What are you asking Liz? What's wrong with you? I've never seen you act like this."

"I'm asking, if it's OK with Tim, if we wouldn't all like to be better neighbors and get to know each other a little better."

Instead of the outcry one might have expected from Liz's outrageous acts and request, there was absolute silence. No one, except for maybe Liz, could even hear the fire or the rain. A muddle of thoughts were running around and no one wanted to be the first to answer fearing they would be the odd ball no matter which way they answered.

Liz had sat up and pulled the blanket around her. After a few minutes she piped up, "Hey guys. I'm sorry, but this isn't the end of the world. Now let's be truthful. You don't

have to answer out loud but Walt have you never thought about what Wanda would look like if she lost her bikini? Wanda, I'm sure you have never wondered about Tim and what it would be like to have him in you. Tim, have you ever wondered what it would be like to be intimate with me? I have to admit that I have wondered about that large bulge you carry in your swim trunks."

Now, all three started to protest and deny any wayward thoughts. Liz held up her hand. "OK quit trying to excuse the naughty thoughts. We are adults and good friends. Considering the circumstances, what would be so terrible about knowing our neighbors better."

Explanations, excuses, moral issues, all sorts of things were voiced. But no one took a stand for or against Liz's proposition which obviously was to swap partners.

Liz, who by now had been roaming around finally broke in again. "Tell you what, let's take a vote. The vote will have to be unanimous if we want to explore any new possibilities."

Wanda: "But we need to vote in private. I don't see how we can do that and I don't want anyone seeing how I vote."

"I've already figured that out." Liz held out and opened one hand. "I have four pieces of broken brown beer bottle glass." She held out and opened her other hand. "I also have four pieces of green beer bottle glass. I also found a beer can. You will put the green piece in the can if you're willing to proceed. You drop a brown piece in the can if you want to stop. It will take four green pieces to go ahead."

"But others may see what we put in the can or what we have left in our hand."

"No problem, each person will take the can in turn and go over to the right of the fireplace. See all the broken glass there? While there you drop one piece of glass into the can and discard the unused piece in the liter over there. I guarantee that there are lots of broken beer bottles there so no one will be able to tell what we discard. The rest of us will stay here with our backs turned to the fireplace. Of course if we end up with three pieces of brown glass and one piece of green, we'll all know who dropped it in, but I'm OK with that. Is everyone OK with my method?"

In agreement, they took the can, one by one, to the side of the fire place. You could hear a piece of glass rattle into the can and you could hear a piece of glass join the other litter on the floor.

Liz was the last one and bringing the can back, everyone waited, almost holding their breath as she shook out one green piece of glass onto the blanket, then a second, then a third, and then "Well one more to go," and she shook a fourth green piece onto the blanket.

No one said a word for several moments as the realization that they had agreed to swap partners swept over them. Each was a little embarrassed, a little apprehensive, a little unsure, but each was in reality rather excited; though they never would have admitted it right then. In the quiet, it took several moments also to realize that the wind had died down and the rain had stopped.

Gently and quietly they lay down on the floor together only the position of the two women was exchanged. Hands began to probe, kisses were exchanged, and with the body heat on the rise, the remaining clothing was quickly shed.

What followed was an event like new lovers coming together for the first time. Gentle touches all over the body, attention to the erotic senses, and ultimately, the sexual union of a man and a woman with a new partner. The next couple of hours the lodge was filled with the sounds of bodies moving around and somewhat muffled moans. It was after four a.m. when the activities died down and they went to sleep.

Just before eight, Walt's phone began to ring. It was Wally. The river had subsided, he had gotten the tow bar and would be out in about an hour.