Being Neighborly Pt. 01

Thus begins a 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.

It began on the January day she moved in. At some time around seven a.m., my doorbell rang. I was deep into Slumberland when I realized that this was not a dream and that the doorbell was really ringing. I stumbled out of bed, threw my robe on and opened the door.

"Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?"

A strange woman was asking me questions! "Yeah, you did. What can I do for you?"

She started babbling quickly; my fuzzy pre-coffee brain could hardly keep up. "I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm your new neighbor. I live next door. My name is Samantha. Sorry, I woke you. I'll catch up with you later." She turned and went into her apartment. I watched her nice ass in her black bicycle shorts. I closed my door.

My groggy head was trying to work out just what happened. Samantha? New neighbor? I walked down the hall to my bedroom and stripped off my robe. Walking into the bathroom, I took my morning leak and then went back to bed trying to process my new neighbor and her early schedule.

Since then, Samantha and I have become friendly although I kept her at arm's length for a long time. She's a bit nosy and in conversation with her, I am always guarded because...well, that's the way I am with nosy neighbors. I don't like to pry but, over the next few days, she told me that she was a widow, that she didn't know what to do with her life, that she would soon move into a waterfront condominium and like, who cares. Too much information. She was merely a tenant one door over, I only have to know her name to say hello. Nevertheless, she pried persistently, which I always deflected. I saw her occasionally when we both left our apartments at the same time to go somewhere. She always has a comment like "Where are you going?"; when we go to throw out garbage ("Got anything good in there?") or for any reason ("What's up? What are you doing? Where are you going?"). All these questions got on my nerves.

It's not that I'm a grumpy person, it's just that considering the life I lead, I'd rather be aloof to people who get into my business.

Having said all that, I must admit that she's a better-looking neighbor than the last one. Way softer on the eyes, too. I've checked her out quite a few times. She's probably in her forties and looking very good, trim and in shape. She not too tall, maybe five foot four, with curly black hair and kind of pretty. She's got a smoking body with just a few choice, extra pounds. She's always showing off her tits with her deep cleavage. To my trained eye, she's a c-cup. And although, she's eye candy, I still keep my distance. "Don't shit where you eat!" is a good rule to remember.

All of this changed in March when the Coronavirus pandemic hit. After three weeks of quarantine, I began to go stir crazy. I was walking in the park and along the beach, that is, until the municipality shut them down. Now, I was trapped in my apartment. I was eating too much and putting on weight. I was sleeping late every day. I was smoking too much (and spending a lot on pot). I was also masturbating like a maniac. It was obvious that I was soon to go nuts.

As March headed toward April, I began to wear a facemask that I sewed myself when I went out. I walked a lot and kept my distance from people. Basically, my trips were to the market, to the mailbox and just strolling in the outside air. There was nothing else to do and nowhere else to go.

I was heading into my apartment when Samantha came out of hers. Our relationship had developed into a nice neighborly one, sort of a cordial intimacy at a distance.

"So, what are you up to, Ray?"

"I'm just coming back from the mailbox, Sam. No mail. Don't know what to do now...I think I'll read for a while."

"Are you busy later? Let's have a drink and shoot the breeze. I'm going nuts inside. I need people."

"Sure. I'll load up a pipe, too. What time?"

"Ohh, I just got some yesterday. We'll swap smoke! I'll roll one for you. I'm going out to the supermarket. I'll pick up party supplies. I'll knock on your door when I'm ready. See you later." Whew!

Two hours later, she arrived with a bag full of food. I told her that it wasn't necessary but she shushed me, saying it was long overdue. I guided her over to my couch while I sat a socially approved distance away in my recliner. Over the next few hours, I discovered that she had a bubbly personality, she liked to flirt, she was funny and, well, she talked way too much. I hardly got a word in. After a while I just listened to her over-describe and go too deep to simply tell her stories. This was incredibly annoying but I let her go, having unleashed the kraakon. I liked watching her round braless tits move around under her tee. That she was also wearing yoga pants made her ass look oh so sweet. I spent some time silently wondering about her camel-toe while munching on snacks, wondering what her camel-toe was like to munch upon.

Finally, I think she exhausted herself and flamed out. We said our goodbyes and promised to do it again soon. I escorted her out the door, closed it and took a deep breath. Damn, if she hadn't exhausted me, too.

Over the next week, she knocked on my door regularly. Since we were both home all the time, I was easy to find, sort of a captive audience. We shared a few lunches, a few dinners, a couple of bottles of wine, a few joints and a lot of one-sided conversation. Our conversations had loosened up and a kind of intimacy was building. One night, she asked me why I was so quiet.

"You do enough talking for both of us. I can't get a word in and so I just listen. You ask me questions but then you answer them yourself. You could say that I'm an audience for you."

She became quiet. "So you think I talk too much. I'm not surprised. I've heard that all my life."

"Well, yes, you do. You have a way of giving too many details and of giving too much background, you begin to drone. A story has a beginning, a middle and an end. Sometimes, it takes you forever to get to the middle - you give too much background. And then, it takes you forever to get to the end of the story. You know, sometimes you don't have to talk at all."

"I'm sorry. Maybe I'm too nervous or too self-centered or something. I'm really sorry, Ray."

"Don't be sorry. That is who you are. There's no need to be nervous around me."

"Yeah, but I talk too much."

"You know, they say that brevity is the soul of wit. You know that you could tell a joke with just two lines?"

"Okay, I'll bite"

"Okay, I'll start. Knock, knock."

She quickly responded and said, "Who's there?"

I waited a dramatic pause before we broke into laughter. "See?" I said.

"You got me."

"Hey, I have an idea. Want to watch a movie? Have popcorn? I have a bunch of movies that I just downloaded. Want to watch the new Star Wars flick or Parasite or Once Upon A Time in Hollywood?"

I made two bowls of popcorn and set up my big screen TV to show the computer file. I refilled our glasses with wine and then we sat back to watch the movie.

"Can you see from there?" she asked. "Come sit on this side of the couch. And you know, we've both self-quarantined for a few weeks, I don't think we're carriers, do you?"

"No, I don't. It's been weeks." I sat down on the other side of the couch, about three feet away. The movie was great and Samantha was quiet. After about an hour, she began to yawn.

"Can we finish the movie tomorrow? I'm passing out."

"Sure. I'll stop it there."

"I'm sorry but I don't know why I got so tired? I did nothing today."

"It's okay. Sometimes doing nothing is exhausting. Go back into your apartment and collapse. I'll see you tomorrow."

We got up and she did an odd thing, she turned and hugged me tightly. "Oh dear, what am I thinking?" she said and released me. Good thing because I felt my dick up against her. I pushed her back.

"That felt nice. Thank you. I haven't felt a body next to me in some time."

"Yes, that's true, me neither. I, too, miss that. Well, I must be punchy. I'll see you tomorrow."

After she left, all I could think about was the feeling of her breasts pressing into me. I popped a woody and promptly beat my meat until it dripped.

The next day, I saw her as I went out to my car she pulled in to her spot. She looked particularly good in a small, tight halter-top. Her daisy duke shorts showed plenty of ass. She must have noticed me ogling her.

"See anything you like, sailor?"

"Choice...Prime... Where'd you go, to work the streets? Hustling?"

"Yeah, I was hustling. Got four customers. Made some money, made a whole dollar. Where you goin', Mr. Wise Guy?"

"I did have plans but now I think I'll go to the sex toy store. I think it is an essential service and must be open."

"Would you do me a favor? Pick up some c-cells for me? My vibrator is losing steam."

"Will four do?" Enough of this coy banter, I got in my car and backed out. I drove over to the car washing area next to the complex' maintenance building. I spent about an hour washing my car and killing time.

As I returned and was unlocking my apartment, Samantha opened her door and came out carrying a big bag of garbage.

My door was open. When she returned, she came right in. "So, did you get me batteries?"

"No. I thought we were kidding each other. I just went down and washed my car."

"Oh, I was serious about the batteries." She pouted.

"What a second..." I went over to my hall closet and pulled out a package of c-cells. I like to be prepared. "Here."

'Thanks. I'll pay you back." She turned and left. I wondered if the batteries were really for her vibrator. Ah, too much information! Now I was doing it!

That evening, I invited her for dinner; carried away with myself, I made too much Italian food. She came over a few minutes later with a bottle of red wine, a dry sangiovese.

"Good choice. I made Italian sausages from the butcher shop, peppers and onions with some pasta and some garlic bread."

"Ooh, that's great. I love spicy Italian. Have you ever been to Italy?"

"Yes, several times. I love Florence and Tuscany the most...also Lake Como."

"I loved Italy, too. I've only been to Rome and I loved it. Although I wasn't too crazy about Italian men!"

"What's wrong with Italian men?"

"What a bunch of rude and crude people. Once, when Harold and I were at The Spanish Steps, some guy on the street grabbed my ass and squeezed it. When I turned around, he smiled at me and blended into the crowd. It also happened to me when we were touring the Colosseum. Such nervy people, I swear."

I laughed. "Yeah, Italian men are pretty nervy. I must have heard 'hey, bay-bee' a hundred times. However, you have to admit that Italian men have great taste in ass." I laughed again.

"So, you like my ass, too?"

I filled my mouth with food and couldn't talk. She smiled. And, dinner was delicious. After, as we cleaned the kitchen, she suggested that we take a walk. I thought that a good idea since I felt like farting.

We weren't more than five minutes out when she let one rip. "That's exactly what I was thinking..." as I also let one rip.

"Oh God, we are so disgusting. It stinks! Keep moving." We laughed halfway down the street. "I think we are getting too familiar."

"So let me ask you, did you really need the batteries for your vibrator?"

"Indeed I did. I have a beauty. It's a magic wand. And being stuck in the house, I use it a lot and it runs down." She said this so matter-of-factly. "So, you don't masturbate?"

"I do and yes, I've been jerking off a lot. Probably too much...but it sure feels good."

"Yes, it does." We were quiet for a few minutes as we walked. "So, what do you do to get off? Do you watch porn on your computer?"

"That's kind of personal, isn't it?"

"Just being curious...and honest. My husband was a prude, a 'lights off" kind of guy. Since he died, I haven't dated or hooked up or anything. My imagination goes wild. I watch porn."

"I watch it sometimes."

"What kind?"

"Again, that's so personal."

"It is. True. You don't have to answer. In fact, we can drop this conversation now. It's making me horny." We were approaching our apartments. "I can't help it. Now, I'm horny. Would it surprise you that I like to watch group sex? I like threesomes."

We entered my apartment and I immediately poured another glass of wine. "Here, let's get ripped." I went over to my desk and rolled a spliff. "So I like threesomes, too. MFM, MMF, FMF or FFM?"

Wow, she knew the vocabulary. "Yeah, I like all of that but mostly MMF and FFM."

She paused a moment in thought. "It makes me very wet."

She must have noticed the tent in my shorts as I leaned over and passed her the joint.

"Are you bi or bi-curious? I am definitely bi-curious. I've never acted upon any of this. It's all just fantasy."

"I would say that when I am with a couple, I like uninhibited sex, so I can be bi. I like oral. Does that satisfy your curiosity? I've done it all, okay?"

"Wow. I am impressed. What fantasy do you have that you want to do?"

"I have no fantasies left. What fantasies do you have?"

"I want to do a threesome. With another woman or another man. How would I find someone for that?"

"Why not write an ad on an online sex site? Say what you're looking for and then sort through the replies. Say that you want to meet first and that you want to see some pictures. You will have plenty of responses. That's how I found partners when I first came down here."

"I've never had the nerve to do that. I'll think about it but only if you'll help me write it. This is a secret thing between us, right. I want to maintain my privacy."

"Ha," I said. "Of course, it stays here. Obviously, I like to keep things very private. I tell you what, you think about it. When are you ever going to live out your fantasies? You have no one to judge you. Do it and if the other couple is coming from the same place, it will be great. I'm a little jealous."

"Jealous? Why?"

"I'm just imagining the other couple ravishing your hot body."

"You like it."

"Sam, everything about your body is choice." My cock was pushing against my shorts and I noticed a wet spot appearing on her shorts. Her nipples were poking out of her halter.

"This is making me very hot. And, I can see that you are, too. Do you want to watch some porn together or not?"

"I don't think it's wise. I mean, neighbors should keep some walls between them. Don't you agree?"

"I agree and I disagree. I haven't had sex in a long time so I'm very horny and my hormones are raging. However, you're probably right, It's better if we don't. Things could get strange between us." As if.

A few minutes later, she went back to her apartment. It took me about five minutes to jerk off. I imagine it was the same for her. We were pretty turned on.

Over the next week, our banter turned more sexual and bawdy. One afternoon, she was out in the back tending to her garden. I was in my apartment, unseen and watching discreetly through a window. She was wearing a two-piece thong bathing suit, as it was quite hot and humid. I watched her big tits. When she bent over, I watched them hang. They were definitely handfuls. I watched her ass, her cheeks hanging out and completely exposed by the back of the suit that was hardly bigger than a sneeze, it was just a little patch. I wondered if she might be into butt fucking. When she turned around, her camel-toe was prominent, showing her puffy vaginal lips. Of course, I jerked off.

On Saturday, she invited me to dinner. She told me to bring wine and a few joints. Dinner was burgers, brats and fries. Afterwards, we sat out on the lanai porch overlooking all the birds swimming in the lake. There were mallard ducks, Muscovy ducks, Canadian geese, egrets, ibises, hawks and osprey. It was very tranquil.

"I have to ask you something," she said. "The other day when I was out in the back, I thought you might be watching me. Were you? Tell me the truth."

"Guilty as charged. I watched you for a while."

"So what did you think?"

"So I think you keep yourself in good shape. I appreciated the view. All of it."

"Thank you. I thought you might be watching me so I showed off a bit. I'm glad you liked. What did you like most?"

I was tongue-tied. I managed to get out, "I liked it all."

"Hmmm, waffling. Did I turn you on?"

"You mean, did I jerk off? Yes, I did."

"Good. I did, too. I felt very naughty."

"You know, I think that's your nature...naughty by nature."

"I don't have any tattoos but I think I'll get that...where should I put it?"

"I don't know. Maybe on your wrist."

"Yeah, that's a good place. Maybe I'll put it right above my pussy so when I pull down my panties, there will be a surprise!"

I gagged. "I think just pulling down your panties would be a surprise enough!"

She giggled. "You know, I've been thinking about putting up an ad. I've been thinking about it since you mentioned it. But, I'm afraid. I'm afraid of being defenseless with strangers. I don't know these people. Maybe, they will hurt me. Anyway, it scares me. It's out of my element. I don't think it's a good idea."

"That you have no control, right? That bothers you. That can be very scary, I agree. Which is why you have to feel comfortable with them. There has to be a certain level of trust. You know that everybody involved wants to feel great and to cum, so you have this shared trust in each other to do the right thing. If everyone is not on the same page then it is no good. And, you have to discriminate - weed out the odd ones. Every guy wants to get into your pants. Some guys will trade their wives. When the time comes to meet, it's "Oh, she couldn't make it" and blah. blah. blah. She probably had no clue as to what he was up to. You've got to weed the bullshit out."

"So where do I place this ad? What language would I use? Would you help me write it?"

"I'll show you my profile on a sex site, if you like and I know you would, you can build a profile for yourself. You need some pictures."

"What kind of pictures?"

"The obvious kind. Sexy. You can lock up some of your pictures - the nudes, face pictures and the suggestive ones - from other visitors. No faces either, don't be recognized by people you know. They must request to see the pictures from you. You can choose what to unlock and to whom. You can be very specific about what you want and don't even bother with the rest. Are you sure that you want to do this?"

"Yeah, I'd like to see what kind of response I get. Jesus, am I vain or what? But I am curious to see what happens. Show me your profile."

"Where's your computer?" She brought out a MacBook and connected to the web. I entered a dating site heavily geared to swingers and groups. I pulled up the home page and pointed out the links to find similar souls. I pulled up my profile. She pulled the computer from me and began to read.

"Gee, like you said, you like to score multiple partners."

"I wasn't lying. I said exactly what I was looking for. Cut to the chase."

She clicked onto my pictures. There was only one gallery open, my innocent one. She looked at the pictures of me in different kinds of clothes, showing my height, weight and build.

"That sucks. I can't see the good pictures."

"No. You have to request it. After you become a member, I can open the other galleries. You can do it now and put pictures up later. For a single woman, it's free plus you get all sorts of free shit that guys have to pay for."

"Okay, let's do it. I'm excited to do this. No names and no faces, right?"

"If you want, you can put face pictures in a locked gallery. This way you can show yourself to the right people. It's an option."