Dillon Court Neighbors Ch. 01

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Romantic1
Romantic1
2,975 Followers

I called Ellen a few days later and asked whether she had time to go to lunch. She did; and we ended up sitting outside with our salads at a sandwich shop downtown opposite the park. I started our conversation after we sat down with our lunches. I whispered, "Ellen, I think Sara was walking her dog and saw us having our goodbyes at your front door. We were pretty passionate and touchy-feely. And, that raises another question, are you and Jim okay with what's happened with our relationship -- our kissing and our touching?" I hoped by the tone of my voice she could tell I surely liked our kissing.

Ellen nodded. "Sara wouldn't say a thing, so don't worry about her. If anything, she's maybe lonely and struggling as a single mother with a full time job. I chatted with Sara a week ago, and she expressed frustration at trying to date. She's not the type to hang out in bars or clubs, isn't involved in any church or club, and doesn't like computer dating; consequently, she's left hoping to bump into someone nice."

Ellen paused, "To your comfort question -- Jim and I are solidly all right and hope you and Mike are too. We both liked what happened and want more. Are you and Mike OK with what you and I did?"

I stammered and stuttered, "Well, Mike knows I experimented with a woman in college, and he's always given me a 'free pass' to do something like that again, but ... well, between us -- you and me -- I felt something else going on Saturday night. It's something deeper that I liked."

Ellen said softly, "I did too. Dory, I like you -- a lot." She reached over and touched my arm. "I liked kissing you. I liked kissing Mike a lot too. I hope we can continue the new closeness that seems to be developing between the four of us. Also, just to be clear, I love my husband, and his happiness and comfort are important to me, and he's fine with all this. We've openly talked about how we feel ... and how we feel about you two."

I spoke, "I sense there's a 'but' coming."

Ellen laughed. "No, it's an 'And' not a 'But.' Since we started our ... I'll say, less restrained kissing, Jim has been the most attentive and ardent lover that he's been for most of the last twenty-five years we've been married. Before he started kissing you, he was ninety-nine percent wrapped up in his work, and I got about one percent of his attention. Now, suddenly, he's concerned about my feelings, whether I'm overworking, my stress level, whether I need something to drink, whether he could make my life easier by helping with one of my books, and things like that. He's even brought me flowers two times in two weeks, and it hasn't been my birthday or our anniversary -- that's an all time record in our relationship. So, do I like our kissing and touching? Yes, doubly so. I enjoy sharing a special intimacy with you and Mike, and I adore the new attention to me that it's inspired in my husband."

I admitted to Ellen that Mike had perked up as well. I'd watched him in more than a few soul kisses with Ellen, but the counterpoint was that he had become more attentive and sensitive to me. Plus, he didn't seem at all worried that I'd been doing the same thing with Jim.

Ellen asked, "Are you or Mike worried about our overall relationship? Should we taper back? Should I not kiss you or only kiss Mike or stop altogether?"

"No, no," I protested on all counts. "Mike's behaving the same way as Jim -- more loving and attentive, and he's become a tiger in the bedroom again." I laughed, "I guess I've been pretty horny too -- very horny actually. The combination has done wonders for our love life."

I could see Ellen visibly relax. She said, "Well, let's keep things going on between us. Maybe even go a little further if you're OK with that. Jim and I want that. We have so much in common. Plus, it's so nice to know someone ten years or so younger that doesn't mind putting up with older folks. We've never kissed anybody like you two ... you know, as a couple. It feels weird, but really good."

I sputtered to get Ellen to retract her thinking that Jim and her ages were 'old' or had any impact on our relationship. Mike and I were early thirties; Jim and Ellen are in their late-forties. So what?

Ellen and I did some more lunches over the next couple of weeks, and shared a minute or two here and there deeply kissing each other. Without Mike being around I didn't want to pursue anything more significant, and I think without Jim's presence Ellen told me she felt the same way. We did a few more weekend dinners too when we could get all four of us together at one time, and things remained static as far as our kissing and modest fondling of each other.

Near the end of the season, Jim scored four tickets to a Boston Red Sox night home game at Fenway Park. We went to the ballgame and had fun with the Russerts. I made a point to sit next to Jim, and made sure Ellen and Mike were together. After the game, Jim led us to a chic bar in the North End for a cocktail and a nighttime view of the harbor and the planes at Logan airport.

Jim drove us home, and I rode in the passenger seat with my hand stroking his leg, often using my fingernails along his thigh in a way I knew drove Mike crazy. Sometimes, my strokes would get right up to Jim's inflating lump, but then I'd stop and resort to other less sensuous attention.

Mike and Ellen were in the backseat, kissing up a storm. I know Jim checked them out more than occasionally in his rear view mirror; I even watched him adjust the mirror one time for a better view. He winked at me when he did the adjustment.

Ellen and I caught each other's eye at one point as she made out with my husband. She winked at me, and then quite intentionally took one of Mike's hands and slipped it under her Red Sox t-shirt. I almost broke out laughing as I watched Mike's eyes bulge out of his head, but he quickly got in the spirit of things, and I could see the rippling movement of his hand under the material as it switched from breast to breast. Ellen looked more than content, and pulled Mike back into another passionate kiss.

I tested what I felt to see what the pair was doing -- my husband feeling another woman's breasts. I felt aroused and excited again. I didn't feel jealous or even shocked. I knew a hundred other women would react with hysteria and anger, but I didn't feel anything like that. I liked what they were doing and hoped they were both finding pleasure and delight in the kisses and fondling -- from the purring and little sounds Mike was making, I could tell they were up there on the enjoyment scale.

Jim pulled into his own driveway. As we got out of the car, he suggested, "Nightcap?"

Before anyone else could even think of an answer, I said, "Yes, please." Jim smiled at me, and I allowed him to escort me to their front door.

Once inside, I plastered my body against Jim. I teasingly gestured to Mike and Ellen who were right behind us, "Those two have been making out all the way home. I need some kisses too ... and also a glass of white wine." I locked lips with Jim, and even ground my hips into his a little to add some motivation to his personal attention.

Ellen and Mike laughed, but didn't look the least bit apologetic. We all went in the kitchen and got glasses of wine. Jim led me back to the living room; we left Ellen and Mike in the kitchen.

I cuddled up to Jim on the sofa in the darkened room, and after a series of kisses that escalated to French kisses that escalated to having him paw at my breasts from the outside of my t-shirt, I took his hand, and put in under the sports jersey. As I did, I leaned forward, reached back, and unhooked my bra so he'd have unrestricted access.

I hadn't had another man's hands on my breasts for over a dozen years so I felt deliciously naughty and so sexy. Jim was gentle, smoothing, yet knowing just how to stimulate my nipples so I became increasingly turned on. I unbuttoned two buttons on Jim's shirt so I could rub my hand on his bare chest, enjoying the feel of his body hair against my fingertips. I wouldn't let him pull my shirt up to see my puppies, but I let him wander the landscape beneath my shirt to his heart's content -- and to mine, as well. We made out like that for at least an hour, and I didn't want to stop.

Somehow, I finished my wine, but I was so wound up I wanted to make love to someone, and I wasn't ready to go that far with Jim, although I briefly entertained that fantasy. I pulled the two of us apart, and said, "I think Mike and I should be going for tonight. We'll ... yes, we'll definitely continue all this another time for sure." I pecked at Jim's lips, and then pulled him up in a standing French kiss.

I called into the kitchen, "Mike, I think it's time to go." I slowly walked the short distance to the kitchen door.

Mike and Ellen were standing, and Ellen's t-shirt was pushed above her breasts and her bra unhooked. Knowing Mike, he'd been feasting on Ellen's breasts, sucking and arousing each nipple to epic hardness. It was one of his specialties, and when he did it just right for me, he could bring me to an orgasm. Ellen looked glassy eyed, and had obviously loved his attention. Mike had been getting attention too; his pants had an unmistakable lump suggestion a high level of horniness and foreplay.

I felt surprised that they still had their clothing on as much as they did. We'd made a jump in our intimacy with our neighbors, and I felt happy we'd made the advance.

Ellen slowly pulled down her t-shirt. She came to me and gave me a warm and tender kiss. She whispered, "I loved tonight. Thank you for sharing Mike with me tonight. This was special, and I want more of you two. I'm feeling such warmth and affection for you both." She smirked and whispered, "I'm now going to rape my husband about two seconds after you are out the door."

I laughed and said in a low voice, "Me too, and I want more too." With that we left and walked next door holding hands and kissing each other.

Once inside our house, there was a trail of clothing from the front door up the stairs to the master bedroom. Mike drove his cock into my pleading body immediately, and we made frantic and wild love to each other, rolling around the bed, vocalizing our needs, and driving each other higher and higher up the ladder of sexual excitement until there was a supernova explosion of two bodies that must have lit up our corner of the universe.

We lay there panting after our climaxes. I chuckled, "We're both a bit worked up after being with Jim and Ellen, right?"

"I'll say." Mike paused, "You're OK with this right? I hope they are too. I'm finding a large attraction to the two of them -- Ellen especially. And, Honey, that's not to take anything away from you. I love you just as much ... even more."

"I know. I feel the same way about both of them. They're both so special, and my fondness for them grows everyday." I'd told Mike about my conversations with Ellen, so he felt reassured that they were all right with our intimacies.

Mike ventured, "We should again check in with them to make sure we didn't go too far tonight. Maybe tomorrow, I should touch base with Jim to make sure he's all right with me making out with his wife and fondling her tits the way I did. I would miss the new closeness with her, but I would stop in a flash if I felt what we were doing was adversely impacting our relationship or theirs."

I rubbed my erect nipples across Mike's chest. I knew just the question to mess with his mind. In a taunting tone I asked, "Mike, whose pussy did you wish you were fucking a few minutes ago?"

Mike shot me his evil eye that I get when he knows I'm toying with him. He said with a smirk, "Charlize Theron; why, who were you thinking of?"

I laughed and poked him in the ribs. I speculated, "I think we were both thinking about each other and our next door neighbors at the same time -- a most interesting situation."

Late Sunday morning, Mike mowed the lawn. I glanced out when I heard the lawnmower go quiet, and saw Mike and Jim talking where our backyards met. Besides getting a warm and fuzzy feeling about both men that stirred my heart, I studied their body language. Both were smiling, and being open and non-confrontational with each other; I could tell they'd each left their egos elsewhere. I read concern for a friend in Mike, and reassurance that things were all right from Jim, and then the roles reversed. After a few minutes, I saw them give each other a manly handshake, and then Mike went back to mowing, and Jim went off to do something in his garage.

* * * * *

A month later, our other neighbor, Liz Winslow, came by the house. With a big smile, she handed me an invitation to an autumn Pool Party in three weeks. She told me she and Eric, her husband, hoped for one of those rare warm or even hot autumn days so we could swim, but rain or shine the party was on. We chatted for a few minutes about what Mike and I could bring, who else was coming, and how we could help. Liz was exceptionally friendly and for the first time since I'd met her, I felt glad that we'd have an opportunity to socialize with her and her family.

The invitation list for the party had been limited to everyone in the four homes on Dillon Court, - ten people in our isolated cul-de-sac. Our four homes were hidden down a long narrow lane.

Only Eric and Liz Winslow's home had a swimming pool, in part due to lot size and partly due to the extra trouble of having a pool in a northern climate when it had to be shut down and reopened in fall and spring. I loved to swim, so their party would be a welcome opportunity for me to get at least one swim in before the really chilly autumn days started.

The following Saturday, Mike and I went to the beach with Jim and Ellen. The day was warm, but as usual in New England, the water was too cold to really swim; we could brace ourselves and wade in up to our knees without much suffering. We brought blankets, a picnic, and I have to admit both Ellen and I dressed provocatively.

I wore my fluorescent pink bikini that did little to hide my charms, and a lot to stimulate Mike and Jim's libidos. Ellen's two-piece suit was only slightly more conservative, but certainly displayed her curvy figure. Mike turned the tables on Ellen and me by wearing a Speedo that proved he either had a potato stuck down his bathing suit, or he was well endowed even in a relaxed state. I knew for a fact he didn't need potatoes to advertise his jewels. More than once, I caught Ellen checking out the lump in his tight trunks.

We lay on the blanket with an umbrella to block a little of the sun from our oiled up bodies. I'd had Jim lather me up with sunscreen; Mike did Ellen. Amid laughter, both men had been a little naughty; sneaking in feels of our boobs and running their hands up our legs right to our pussies. I was sure I'd made a wet spot in my suit from my sexual excitement.

Mike lay with Ellen, and I lay with Jim. The guys ran their hands slowly over our skin, occasionally dipping a finger into the cups of our bras to tease a nipple or just to feel the heft and shape of our tits. Once my nipples hardened from Jim's teasing, they never retreated; so, I spent the entire day announcing my arousal and inner feelings.

We kissed a lot too: long kisses, French kisses, open mouth tongue on tongue kisses, and short pecks on the lips or cheeks or other body part to show approval of something being said or done.

I took the initiative the most of any of us. After checking up and down the beach for walkers, I ran my fingernails along the pronounced bulge Jim's cock made in his conservative bathing suit. Before long, he had practically swelled out of his trunks. I could actually wrap my hand around his cock through the material of his bathing suit.

After about five minutes of my attention to him this way, he pulled my hand away. "I don't want to make a mess in there. You're too much." He leaned forward and French kissed me.

I took Jim's hand, captured his middle finger, and sucked it into my mouth. I used my tongue, lips, and sucked on the digit in a pseudo-blowjob that made Jim's eyes bulge out of his head as he watched me. After that, we kissed again, and he rolled onto his stomach, his distended cock making a dent in the sand. He didn't say anything for a long time after my teasing, but I could guess the direction his thoughts took.

In that moment, I would have stripped off my clothing and had Jim make love to me right there on the beach with our spouses next to us. I wanted that to happen.

I liked the idea that two men found me exciting: Mike and Jim. Sure, Mike was engaged in a serious make out session with Ellen, but I knew once we got home I could count on him pouncing on my lithe body and ravaging me with his cock. I positively knew after that day, that Jim must feel the same way. I wondered how close to making Jim cum in his bathing suit I'd come -- or that he'd allowed himself to get.

We discretely changed clothes at the car, and drove up the coast a little to a seafood restaurant where we had dinner. This time Mike was the designated driver, so Jim and I got to make out in the back seat as we drove home in the darkness. I hadn't even brought a bra, so when Jim reached under my shirt he had unrestricted access to both breasts. I still didn't reveal them, even in the darkness; that just seemed some kind of a line to cross for me, and I realized how my feelings had moderated from a few hours earlier.

When we got home it was late, we were each a little groggy from the combination of beach, salt air, drinks at dinner, and the soporific drive home. We said goodnight with some serious kisses and a little groping on our front lawn.

Mike made tender and sweet love to me that night, and I made sure he knew how much I loved him too. Even as we made love, I couldn't help but think of Jim and how I'd teased his 'package' to hardness and nearly to release. I chuckled to myself.

The next day, I confessed to Mike about toying with Jim's shaft at the beach. He laughed and sympathized with Jim about having to stop me lest he'd cum in his bathing suit, which in turn would have required him to swim in the icy ocean to clean himself. As a counterpart, Mike confessed to stroking Ellen's mons while they petted on the beach, and having his Speedo stroked by her in strategic locations. For certain, we were four horny people when we'd gotten home the night before.

* * * * *

We all arrived at Eric and Liz's home for the pool party about the same time mid-afternoon. Their home was next door to ours; however, a heavily wooded area lay between our houses. The day was perfect, warm, and sunny. I immediately stripped off my cover and jumped in the pool. Soon, I enjoyed the company of six-year-old Rachel who I promised to watch for Sara. Jim, Ellen, and Mike took a quick dip in the pool, but then the guys opted to stand around chatting with Eric, Liz, and Sara.

My florescent pink bikini was the hit of the afternoon, but after my swim I ran back next door and changed into dry cutoffs and a t-shirt to match the casual style of the others. I was back in the Winslow's back yard in ten minutes. I thought how convenient it was that we lived so close to each other.

As we broke into smaller groups to talk, Sara strongly suggested to me that I accompany her across the street so she could get her iPad for Rachel to play with while the adults sat around. I sensed there was some other agenda, so psyched myself up to see what it was.

As soon as we were clear of the backyard, Sara said in a shy tone, "I ... this is hard for me to ask ... well, I've ... you know ..." I could tell she was embarrassed by something that made her have trouble forming a cogent sentence.

I laughed and hugged her my side as we walked. "Sara, I'm here for you. Whatever it is, I'll try to help."

Romantic1
Romantic1
2,975 Followers