Good Fences, Ch. 01

Amber danced away from the kiss, giggling, and pulled Morgan behind her, headed for the house.

Morgan sighed, frustrated. She hadn't been teased like this, since... she couldn't remember ever being this horny, actually, and across multiple days. Frantic masturbation hadn't helped, either, as the golden skinned blonde danced behind her clenched eyes. Just made her want this,her, more.

Amber stayed in the bathroom with her while she showered, waiting her turn. Morgan felt self conscious, somehow, knowing there was someone else on the other side of the glass door. Even if that someone had already seen everything, this felt more intimate.

"Hey. Pro tip?" Amber said loud enough to be heard over the water. "That hand wand? Setting three."

Morgan looked. She'd just been about to reach for it, to rinse out her sweaty puss. Morgan selected setting three, as suggested.

"Now, hold it about six inches away..."

Morgan gasped. The flickering spray felt just like a tounge. "Ohhhh."

"Go ahead. That's a workout, too, you know. Cardio. Core strength. Like it?"

"Yess." Her feet slid apart on the shower floor.

"You're doing great." The same words she'd use to encourage a few more minutes on the treadmill. "Almost there. Just a bit more."

"Almost," she agreed. Morgan edged closer, urged on by Amber's soft voice. The tiles of the stall were cold on her back as she leaned into it and began to shake.Finally.

"There you go. All done." The shower door opened, and Amber presented her with a towel. Morgan stepped into it, and experienced a soft rubdown. The warm glow she'd just quenched started to swell again.

Then Amber pushed past her to get in the shower herself. "Wait for me?"

Morgan nodded, weak in the knees, both from what she'd just done, and the brief slide of the shorter blonde against her. She sat on the toilet, and looked up with interest when Amber started moaning.

While the girl inside the shower masturbated loudly, Morgan wondered just what the hell was going on. It felt like seduction. It also felt like plain physical fitness. It felt like the only time Morgan had ever even considered going down on another girl. It felt like she was the other woman, the homewrecker, too.

Morgan didn't come to any conclusions, because a soft fluffy towel was neatly folded on the counter, and her little blonde workout buddy was going to be done soon, by the sounds of it. She didn't want to miss her chance to give her a rubdown.

***

Morgan walked around a strange house naked. An odd feeling, horny, exposed, and safe, all at once. Amber was putting ice into glasses in the kitchen, and had made it clear she wanted their after workout routine to be the same, tea in her kitchen and inane small talk. Just, nude this time. Morgan briefly spied her blue tote, sitting forlorn out on the lawn. Her phone was in there. So were her clothes. She should probably fetch it before it rains.

A wall of photos caught her eye, and she glanced at the collection. Amber, dainty and perfect, wearing a gold and black cheerleading uniform. Amber, much more grown up and still perfect, clutching the arm of a tuxedoed man, her white dress sparkling. That same man in full winter regalia, arms out for balance on a snowboard. The both of them on a beach, Amber in a teal bikini, the man in a black speedo. That picture looked like it belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine, the pair nothing but gleaming skin, white teeth, and somewhere south of five percent body fat combined.

"Ibiza. Last year. Our first little vacation together. He proposed, right over there." Amber pointed to a black rock thrusting out of the surf. The hand she used to point held a glass of tea, which she passed to Morgan. "God, he's such a hottie. No idea how I landed him."

Morgan sipped tea and gave her neighbor a long up and down look. "I think I know."

Amber blushed. "Well, thanks. I don't have your," she paused to look at Morgan's chest, "charms. But I guess I do all right."

Morgan shook her head, and walked behind her to her kitchen. She was going to ask for some clarification, some definition about their workouts and what to expect going forward. Amber derailed her thoughts, though, as she so often did. "So, we're having a barbecue Sunday. You're invited."

"I. Sure." She blinked. "What do I bring?"

"Just yourself. I'm making deviled eggs and potato salad, and Dale's cooking burgers and hot dogs. Not carb friendly, but we'll work it off next week." Her smile suggested more of the same antics, there was an edge to it Morgan was becoming familiar with.

"There may be wine," Amber offered, with a wink.

Morgan's head suddenly whirled with a vision. That man in the speedo wearing nothing but an apron. 'Kiss the cook' printed on his broad chest. Amber dressed just like she was now, a wine glass in her hand. And Morgan barefoot and bare elsewhere, standing on the lawn. Both of them looking at her. Both of them with that same, hungry smile.

Morgan liked the imaginary attention. "I'm in."

"Oop." Amber had dribbled tea on her chest. "Getting me all wet again." She wiped the droplets with a finger then put it in her mouth. "That came out wrong."

***

Dale came home Friday, and found his wife naked on the couch, watching cooking videos on the TV. She was idly fingering herself, and barely looked up to flash him a grin. His suit hit the ground before he made it across the living room to her, clothes strewn on the carpet in a line. She kissed the tip of his dick and told him to chill. "You'll make a mess of me, I just showered. And we're going out tonight, remember?"

She loved to tease. He loved letting her. A few more teasing licks and kisses, and they headed upstairs to get ready for a night in the town. Her dress was new, he noticed. White, short, and practically backless.

She bared her tits the entire drive to the nightclub, taking her straps down the second he pushed the button to start the car. Once she'd gotten him stiffened up, and she'd figured out which leg of his trousers he was pointing down, Amber's hot little hand rubbed him through his slacks. At the club, they danced themselves breathless, showing off to each other and damn near committing indecent acts on the dance floor. She loved the display. He loved displaying her.

The restaurant was packed. Her foot stayed in his lap, hidden by a tablecloth, the whole meal. They both flirted with the waitress, a cute young thing that giggled and blushed and got a hell of a tip for her participation. She loved flirting, with him, with anyone. Dale just loved her.

The drive home was frantic. The little black dress she wore had nothing underneath it, a fact Dale had seen with his own eyes more than once, and he'd marked the shock and desire of that fact registering on other faces tonight. The dress came off easily, stretchy straps lowered by her own thumbs, then a hip wiggle to get it over her hips. She fingered herself and writhed under the seatbelt while he tried to watch her and the road both. When he parked the car, her dash to their front door in nothing but heels was something he'd remember the rest of his life.

He was inside her before they'd managed to shut the door, Dale pinning her to a wall in the foyer. They fucked their way up the stairs, she came once in the hallway, and they both finished on the bed.

Dale made a mental note to tighten up the bed frame. That headboard was going to go through the wall one of these nights.

She sucked him back to full hardness, and round two began. Less urgent, no less primal. She was a screamer. He loved making her scream.

After, he came back downstairs for some juice. He saw the front door standing open, and shut it with a chuckle. Good thing this neighborhood was so new, in his old apartment, someone would have wandered away with his TV while he was distracted.

***

Saturday passed like most weekends. They ate breakfast, he fucked her on the countertop. They did the dishes, watched some TV. He licked her on the couch before lunch. She made him a sandwich, and knelt under the table, opting for a couple teaspoons of protein for her meal.

The afternoon, they settled the last of the moving mess, got everything squared away. She wanted to sunbathe. He joined her, and they spent a languid half hour on the lounge chairs before she got on top and rode him to another finish, this time she screamed at the sky.

She wanted to cook dinner, something elaborate. He helped, and the meal turned out wonderful. Dessert was Amber, on the stairs. She hadn't put clothes on all day, and when she stopped and bent over, thrusting her ass in his face, his tongue had instinctively gone to her bare muff, and he'd made her come before walking up the steps to plant his cock in her dripping, quivering pussy. She only let him have a couple of pumps before she squirmed up a stair. He chuckled, let his dick lead him forward. He lined up, pulled back slightly, and Amber moved. She tilted her hips, spread her legs a little wider, and his cock slipped into her asshole, lubed up with her own juices. Dale grinned, and gentled his stroke into her.

God, he loved her. Not just for this, for so many other things, but her affinity for anal sex was definitely a highlight. He took his time, enjoying the hard, tight ring of her ass on his cock. He felt her hand below him, fingering herself. She would occasionally bring up dripping fingerfuls of her juices to spread on his shaft, keeping them nice and lubed up.

She came, screaming into the carpeted stairs while flicking her clit. He picked up her jittering body, draped her over a shoulder, and climbed the second flight to the bed. He had a sense she wasn't done yet, and he was right.

She took him to the shower once she was back on her feet, they cleaned each other up very thoroughly. They cuddled on top of the comforter while they dried off, cuddling that turned into Amber riding him again. She came, then didn't give up the seat, concentrating and slamming into him as fast as she could, giving herself a tiny grind on his pelvis every stoke. Frenzied and wild, he watched her grimace and flex through two more orgasms in rapid succession, then she fell atop him, limp as a rag doll. He'd pumped her full of his cum somewhere in between the first and the third primal howl... he wasn't sure exactly when. She'd just gone feral above him, and he'd just held on until she was done with his cock. He felt used. He felt loved. He hoped she'd do that again, some night.

Sometime in the middle of the night, they coupled again, a softer, loving coupling that may have lasted hours.

A good Saturday.

***

Morgan hesitated by the side gate, her hand on the latch. No big deal, just a cookout. Why was she so nervous? She felt like she was going to a job interview, a level of scrutiny she'd avoided by becoming her own boss five years back. Maybe, it was an interview, of sorts. She'd spent yesterday doing research on thrupples and polyamory, and had devolved into watching a documentary on sex cults.

This wasn't one of those. Amber was too genuine, too innocent. But she still felt like she was being sized up for something. Unlike her interview for a corporate job, she was pretty sure she actually wanted this position. Or positions. Last night, while the headboard had kept up a soft rhythm on the other side of her bedroom wall, her research had taken her to pornhub.

Some of those arrangements looked really fun.

Well, first impressions were key. She'd spent all morning on her hair, braiding pigtails in. The green ties at the ends matched her shorts, her shirt was cut low, but not so low it was scandalous. She'd feel mildly self conscious in public wearing this, but very mildly. She'd put on makeup for the first time in a couple years, just a light natural look that had nonetheless taken an hour. She should be good to go.

Something sizzled on the grill. Amber giggled, unseen. Morgan took a deep breath and opened the gate.

***

Dale looked up. A gate he hadn't known was there swung in, and a curvy, pigtailed girl walked into his yard. When he'd heard she was a web developer, he'd assumed shy and geeky, a picture in his head of... well, whatever it was, the beauty walking toward him didn't match it. Blue eyes he could see sparkling from a distance, a warm smile on her face, a sway in her ample hips that was hard to look away from.

He looked away anyway, he was married now. To a beautiful, blonde former gymnast who fucked him multiple times a day. He shouldn't be even remotely interested in anyone else. The aforementioned gymnast let go of his waist and skipped across the grass, planting a kiss on the new girl's cheek, making the brunette blush in a very cute way.

Amber had elected to dress today in a minimal bikini. From behind, only a couple of blue strings kept her from looking completely naked. Her bubble butt wiggled when she went up on tiptoes for the kiss. He forcefully looked back at the grill. His almost nude wife kissing another girl was an image he'd store away, though, to revisit during boring office hours.

"I told you not to bring anything. What's in the bag?" Amber peeked in the tote bag the other girl was carrying.

Morgan swept it behind her with a laugh. "Nothing healthy, for sure. But I figured, everybody likes s'mores..." Amber made an excited little squeak.

She danced around his wife and made it to within handshake distance of Dale. "Hi. I'm Morgan."

"Dale, a pleasure to meet you." Her eyes were mesmerizing, a grayish hue one moment, clear and bright blue the next. He was glad to have something so fascinating to pull his focus from the deep swells of her low cut shirt. Amber wasn't deficient in the chest department, but this girl overflowed with pale, sun freckled bounty.

She looked past him. "Weiner's on fire." He returned to grill master duties with a mix of relief and regret.

Only a moment later, his wife elbowed him. He followed her gesture and eye flick. The neighbor was bent, laying s'mores supplies on the table, her butt presented in all its glory. With wide eyes and a bottom lip caught in her teeth, Amber made a two handed cupping maneuver. Translation: did you see those honkers?

Dangerous territory here, but he nodded and lifted his eyebrows. She did a double lift with hers and dropped him a wink. He didn't know how to translate that one.

***

Two glasses of wine down and the bulk of the meal behind them, Morgan figured she was nailing the interview. Poor Dale's eyes seemed torn between his scantily clad gorgeous wife and choice bits of her own anatomy. Amber was giggly, flirty, and handsy, practically draping herself on Morgan at various times throughout the meal. Dale had to turn his head to look away more than once, although Morgan was sure he was still stealing glimpses out of the side of his eyes.

And when he wasn't nervously looking away, he was laughing at something Morgan had said. Or getting mauled by an increasingly tipsy Amber. Which was happening now, and it was Morgan's turn to stare at the vinyl siding to their right.

"Okay, honey. We're being rude to our guest." Dale gently unentwined himself from the blonde. "Besides, I heard something about s'mores?"

"Ooh, right. I haven't had one since summer camp. Like, I was twelve?" Amber ripped open the box of graham crackers. "Great idea, girlfriend."

Morgan grinned. She'd been using that word a lot today. So much that Morgan had been compelled to use her own internal nickname for the other girl. "Slow down there, firecracker. You'll break 'em, and then we'll have to have our marshmallows with cracker crumbs." Dale grabbed the sack of marshmallows and headed for the grill.

"I'll get these going."

"No, we're supposed to roast our own. Some people like em black, some like em just toasted. We gotta set up the chocolate first."

Moments later he handed out skewers, and the three of them clustered around the gas flame. Not much room, they were shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip, holding the white blobs out on sticks. Morgan got jostled into Drew's solid frame, Amber was a little unsteady on her feet. He apologized and didn't quite look down her shirt.

Marshmallows toasted to taste, the three returned to the picnic table and finished assembling their dessert. Amber cackled like a child, even Dale let out a girlish giggle. Morgan just picked hers up and bit in.

Something hot hit her chest and moved toward the center of her cleavage. She looked down, chewing. A drip of chocolate. "Mm. Mapkin?"

"I got it," Amber said, and stuck out her dainty pink tongue, licking the brown streak off the brunette's tits. Morgan was shocked into silence. Amber licked her lips and blinked her brown eyes slowly.

"Haah." The noise came from across the table. Both girls looked at Drew. "Um. Hot." He blinked. "I mean. The s'more. It's hot. Not that thing you did. The s'more. Well, that thingwas pretty, um... I meant the s'more." He was beet red, and put down the cracker sandwich.

Morgan giggled. Poor guy.

"You can mean both, honey." Amber knelt on the bench, rising up in front of Morgan. "Here. Just for you." She put a finger into the gooey part of her dessert, then painted a streak on her own breast. "Oh no, I'll be all sticky, unless someone helps me." She laid the sarcasm on thick and leaned forward to put her chest into Morgan's face.

Morgan helped. Her tongue ran across soft skin, tasting sweet and salty. She wondered which flavor was Amber, and giggled again. Maybe too much wine, she always got the giggles when she drank it.

"You misshed a shpot..." Amber slurred, and one hand went to the back of her own neck, the other to the back of Morgan's head. The supporting strings fell away, the blue triangles of her bathing suit slipped down. She guided Morgan's surprised, open mouth to her nipple.

Both girls moaned. Morgan, not knowing where to put her hands, settled with one on each of Amber's slim hips. Under her tongue, the nubbin stiffened and swelled. She looked up, expecting to see Amber looking down at her. The blonde had her head turned, staring at Drew. Morgan followed her gaze and saw a man as shocked and turned on as she'd ever seen.

Still, a man with very strong willpower. He stood up and walked around the table. "Sorry, gonna borrow your chew toy for a sec." He easily picked up Amber, put her on his hip, and walked to the far corner of the yard. He softly asked her a question, setting the topless girl onto unsteady feet.

Oh. Morgan could see the issue. Amber's arms pinwheeled, trying to keep her balance. She would have failed, if Dale hadn't steadied her. Morgan watched the exchange, and realized that the little blonde was beyond tipsy, somewhere pretty close to fall-down drunk.

She started to gather her things.

She approached the couple, Amber gesturing broadly and sounding whiny. "Hey, guys, this has been great and all, but I think I'm gonna go ahead and get out of here. Little too much wine for me."

"Nooo." Amber whined. "We were just... hic." She put a hand to her mouth and changed color. Pale and greenish.

Dale nodded at her. "It was great to meet you. Thanks for coming. Next weekend?"

"Um. Yeah?" Morgan walked backwards to the gate. "Better get her inside. I think she's gonna blow."

Amber went limp as Dale carried her to the patio. She was making moaning sounds, and not pleasurable ones.

On the other side of the fence, Morgan took stock. Fricking wonderful man, Dale. And maybe, if the girl hadn't drank quite so much, this would have been a very different night for all of them.

Oh, well. Next time. Let the couple have a nice, sober talk, and Morgan would see how things went.

***

The next morning, Morgan got dressed, by force of will. She'd spent the last few days running around her home naked. Odd that she'd never really done that before. Odd how horny it got her, textures kissing skin directly, air in sensitive places. But, tank top and panties, the bare minimum, seemed best.