Home Owner's Association

I laughed, "Oh goodness, for someone so young you're a prude. I can't think of a single married woman my age who hasn't taken someone in a corner for a quick kiss or had a night with a boy toy. It's hardly the end of the world."

Rose shook her head, "I'm better than that."

The hell you are, I thought in my head, the hell you are, you stupid bitch.

"Rose honey, look up the statistics in Cosmo. More than 70% of women cheat in their marriages. And that means full-on sex or even long-term affairs. If you want to stay in the good graces of the classier 30%, you've got to play along the edges. Tow the line. Have a thrill once in awhile. Make it fever hot in the bedroom with your husband the day after. Keep swimming when you stop floating, it's the only way not to sink. Take it from me."

Rose shook her head, "I doubt it."

I shuffled in my seat and waited for her to look me in the eye.

"Take it from someone who's dealt with death: you're going to die some day," I said harrowingly. I had her attention, "And if you tell me you don't think giving a man like that a deep, long, harmless kiss isn't is on your bucket list, then you'll probably try to sell me the Brooklyn Bridge as well. You told me you guys are trying to get pregnant, if you want to have enough sex with your husband to get the job done, now is the time to push your libido into overdrive. Nobody has to know."

Damn, I was almost proud of myself for condemning her so harshly while staying in the realm of harmless girl-talk. She smiled, and then sort of faded inside her head. I laid some bait.

Tamyra walked up, and the same-ol-same-ol began. Steve said hi and shot the breeze with us. Everything went back to boring.

-

The next Monday, I was somehow on my own. Rose had to run errands and Tamyra was out of town. Steve came to talk to me and I decided to probe.

"You have taken a real liking to Rose," I said, "She's a sweet girl."

He nodded, "I try to stay away from the married ones, but it's tough when they're that sexy."

I shrugged, "So far just harmless flirting," I said, preparing for the killshot, "But it doesn't have to be just flirting. I think we can help each other."

Steve seemed taken aback, "Helen, I..."

"Tell me Steve," I asked, "I know I'm not your first choice, but do you like what you see here?"

He nodded his head, "You're a very attractive woman, Helen," he said, with relative conviction.

I smiled, "I want you two kids to have a good time together. Just for fun. Do you know how you get that to happen?"

He looked perplexed, still feigning innocence, "I'm not sure what you..."

"Jealousy. Now listen to me, and listen good. You build it slow. We build it over weeks and not days but not months. You talk to me, you take interest in me. We get a little touchy feely. And when the time is right, I'll get a little touchy feely, and she'll pop. Then she'll open up and everybody is happy."

I didn't know if he'd swallow my downright amoral dialogue, but he nodded.

"OK, sure. Play it cool."

"And don't lay a hand on her unless she guides you. You're not the aggressor. We have to make her fall into it. Otherwise she'll fold and tell her husband what a victim she is, and you'll just have an angry little man at your doorstep. Understand?"

He nodded, "Yea, yea, for sure."

I nodded, "Good, Steve. Good. We're going to make this happen, I promise."

He half-turned away from me, "I'm not sure why you're so above the level with this, but...I always knew you were a cool cat, Helen."

He smiled and dove into the water.

-

The next "Happy Hour" was fun. I laughed at everything he said and he talked almost solely to me, giving Rose only cursory attention. I pointed out his stereo and we enjoyed music. After half my drink was gone, we danced a little, with him twirling me and the two of us openly flirting. It was a long, agonizing week before I could make progress again. I could tell it was making Rose churn a little, but I wasn't sure if it would have the desired effect.

Another "Happy Hour" passed and we upped the ante. The music came on again, and we danced, but this time to a slow song. I had a smile plastered on my face and we were close enough to feel each other's breath. A couple of times his hand drifted across my unclothed ass and I didn't stop him. Rose just sat in the corner, only an occasional participant in our chatter. When we left this time, she was visibly flustered.

He was doing his part. As luck would have it, she yammered on about a horrible fight she had on her husband the following Tuesday. She was downright disturbed, once again about something involving flying her precious mother out to see her. I smelled blood in the water and went in for the kill.

I guided Steve back to our close-up dancing. I pretended to be more drunk than I was, and I went beyond the pale. I removed my top and let it slide down so that my breasts were exposed. Rose tried to laugh and play it off like a drunken mistake, but I smiled and looked Steve in the eye.

He tried palming my chest, but I pushed his hand away and whispered "No, you bad boy..." I kept flirting with the idea of kissing him and instead directed his advancing lips towards my neck.

As we held each other and started to seduce one another, I closed my eyes and sighed. When I opened them, I saw Rose, pale as a ghost, lips locked tight, brimming with emotion. We were competing for the same man, even if she didn't acknowledge it. She was far more attractive, but her timidity was making her "lose" the battle. When I felt like he'd rummaged around my body long enough, I turned to him and hinted I was ready for a kiss before pulling away. We were getting closer to connecting.

I heard the music stop, and Rose cooed in joy.

"Oh! You have Sweet Jane on your iPod. I love this song. Can we dance to it?"

And this is what I had waited for. Sinful, sad behavior, wrapped in a little levity and kept in the dark. Under the self-serving delusion that she was helping her marriage.

Steve pulled away from me and smiled, walking towards her. The gravity of her actions was weighing on her, so she put her hands up and said "No touching. Let me touch. Nothing dirty. Keep it classy. You two are so bad! I'm not going that far."

She was all smiles like a teenager playing spin the bottle. Her song started. I had never heard it before, but it was a floaty melody with a female singer. She took his wrists and placed them around her waist.

Like a kid in a candy store she stroked his beard and smiled as he smiled back. It was like some kind of prom dance in an illegal speakeasy. Eventually she moved down to his pecs, and her breath shuddered. I couldn't blame her. The man was practically built out of concrete.

They swayed back and forth and she kept her head tilted down. He was adhering to her "rules" as best he could, not moving his hands from where they were placed. She kept rubbing into his pecs, looking up at him and then breaking eye contact when he would return it. His erection had grown and it was pressing against her thin bikini bottom. Nothing to worry about though. They were just "dancing" after all.

I decided to up the ante and placed a soft hand on her back. She looked to me, and didn't break eye contact as I untied the back of her shoulderless bikini top.

"Baaad..." was all she whispered. I backed away.

It was something natural and rhythmic as they swayed and the top slowly lost the battle to cling to her breasts. It eventually fell and they placed their heads together, temple to temple, as they danced. Every endorphin in both their bodies was on full throttle. Two youthful, gorgeous people, ready to mate, with only a thin slice of cloth and her drab belief system keeping him from ripping into her and filling her with cum.

When the song ended, I expected her to kiss him. Instead she backed away from him, grabbed her top, and walked off. I tried to follow her, but she was in a hurry, obviously embarrassed. I turned to my co-conspirator.

"That's a start," I said slyly.

He shook his head, "She's pissed. I get pussy every other night and I never need to work this hard."

I laughed, "You know full well the whores you pick up at a bar aren't going to feel as good as when you wipe that wide-eyed look off her face."

With a crossed brow he looked at me, "What did she ever do to you?"

I shrugged. "I'd help you out with your little problem but...I think the longer you go without a good fuck, the more motivated you'll be."

I turned and started walking towards the door.

"See you next tuesday!"

-

I didn't see Rose for a couple of days. Tamyra was as cordial as ever, but I think she suspected something was afoot. After pool time on Thursday, I started to worry that we pushed too hard. Luckily, Rose showed up on Friday before Tamyra came to the pool. I inquired where she had been.

"I know, I know, sorry I didn't tell you. I'm not mad at you. I just needed a break from all this."

I shook my head, "What happened? I haven't seen Steve either."

She crossed her arms, "I went over there, fully clothed, and apologized to him. It isn't right to lead him on. I don't know what came over me. He's an attractive guy but he's just my friend. I can't just use him like that and it feels like I'm lying to my husband."

I nodded, "And how did talking to him go?"

She squirmed, "Really good. It was hard to not see him."

For two whole days? You missed your 'friendly neighbor' because you didn't get to gock at his body for two whole days?

"It was just nice to talk to him with clothes on, sober, and get back on good terms. I gave him my number too and we've been texting."

Just when I thought a door had closed, another opened. And then another...

"Can I ask you a question?" she said.

"Sure."

She took a deep breath, "When you have sex with someone new...don't you feel attached? How do you walk away?"

I had to contain my joy at her line of questioning. "Well...remember when everyone you ever met told you that having a drink when you were a teenager was the end of the world? And now look...look at how that was all a big fib to 'protect' you from something. Having a drink is no big deal."

She paused. "It's really like that?"

I nodded, "Even easier to put down and walk away from," I said, lying.

Things were silent until I chimed in.

"I'm glad you guys worked stuff out. I never wanted to ruin our whole little situation here."

She nodded, "Yea I'll still come to the pool but I don't think drinks at his house feels right anymore."

Rose also shared her disappointment that their pregnancy plans hadn't come to fruition for yet another month. She admitted that she hadn't been as attracted to her husband lately, so they weren't trying as often. To me, this was good news. Getting knocked up would only derail my efforts.

Sometime that week I had a consult with Steve and told him to build her dread even more. He started showing up at the pool only sparingly. Some time later, when Rose was about ready to explode from lack of his attention, he showed up on an idle Tuesday and after an intensely friendly conversation, invited us all over. Rose said yes "in the moment" as I expected. He was the light in her boring, repetitive life. He was chaos in a universe filled with manicured lawns and walk-in closets.

Tamyra tapped me on the shoulder as Rose and Steve walked away from the pool on that fateful Tuesday.

"I am done with this. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

After that, I never spoke to Tamyra again.

-

Drinks, the bar, music...it was the same as it ever was. They started another slow dance. I acted my part in taking her little top off, helping her to feel blameless somehow. This was all a formality. She knew this was going to escalate. The question was how far we could push her.

It was electric for me. They were close enough for her eyelashes to touch his cheek. All in one motion, he reached down and put his hand above her ass and lowered his lips to her. She moved her head and he followed her lips, pursuing her. She put her hand on the side of his face and the sunlight hit the diamond on her wedding ring in such a way that it flared against my eyes. They kissed. It grew into short little feverish pecks and his hands snuck towards her breasts.

"No sex, just have fun..." she mumbled. With that, he really started to lay into her.

-

I could bore you with details, but eventually precious Rose was sitting on his bar stool with his tongue down her throat. Steve began sucking on her neck and I made my move. My hand brought down one side of her bikini bottom and I started to finger her pussy. Her clit was easy to find. I had a million fantasies about her and her husband fumbling about in high school in some innocent petting contest. And here I was, some depraved old drunk being the second person in the door. I laid into her furiously. She looked up at me with deep confusion as Steve suckled at her tits. She moaned a little and began mouthing to me to stop.

Steve read the situation and brought down his trunks. His cock flailed out and danced erect against the skin below her navel.

"Nnnoo," she said, resisting. Steve took her nipple in his mouth again and she cooed. For a moment she pressed against him trying to change course, but the pleasure was making her relent. A flood was bristling and she was a shirking levee, ready to break. The more I worked her clit, the more she became wet. Steve moved his lips to her neck and her eyes were completely washed over with lust. Rose's panting was almost scary. She was near hyperventilation and her lips almost looked frozen from the air huffing out of her lungs. He breasts swayed with each heave of her chest.

The other side of her bottoms came down like the toppling of a great wall. Steve began sliding his cock over the tiny smidgen of her exposed pussy lips and my assaulting hand. She tried to make eye contact with me but she might as well have been on another planet. It wasn't until he slid the head into her that she moved her eyes back towards him. Her panicked face locked eyes with his as reality broke through the fog of pleasure. She let out a panicked grunt as he began disappearing into her. I pulled her hair back and comforted her. "It's ok," I nearly whispered, "It's alright."

As he pushed his way and stretched her, she put her head back and yelled out. Through the pain and pleasure, I lovingly caressed her cheek and "ssshhh'd" her with a calm tone. When he nearly bottomed out, and the sliver of cock still visible between their two bodies foamed over with her juices, I could tell the last walls within her were crumbling. He pistoned all the way inside and completed the start of the endgame.

The more strokes he put into her, the more she ceased any visible signs of protest. It felt so natural to watch the two beautiful people fuck. I could only guess the sheer dichotomy between Steve and her husband was giving her physical pleasure I couldn't understand. His cock was pressing against the walls of a pussy molded to fit one man, stretching her in ways she'd never imagined. They alternated between long, tender kisses mixed with moans and an intense, deep eye contact.

Maybe I'm fucked up more than I realized, because I wasn't focused on the eroticism at all. I thought about how hard her parents worked, driving home so many lessons and so many edicts into their precious little girl. I'm sure they thought they dodged most of the bullets when she made it out of high school without a major addiction or incident, married to a "nice guy." And it was gone. All gone. I was watching the Taj Mahal burn to the ground.

I imagined that every hard-throated "Oooohhh" and "Uunngghh" coming from her was little bits of panic and mourning escaping from her deepest consciousness. Somewhere in her mind she had to feel herself slipping into a new darkness. I could almost see some wide-eyed, innocent little girl crying her eyes out, deep inside her heart, with the gasps of her death throes puffing out of her moaning lips while everything she used to be was fucked into oblivion.

When Steve's ball slaps grew in intensity and she dug her heels into his ass, she briefly made eye contact with me. You would think the decision to let someone other than your husband impregnate you would be a "crossroad," but that wasn't where Rose truly went another direction. Not in a society with the morning after pill and rape accusations. Not yet, anyways.

The last moments before Rose crossed the final line were intense. Her pert little tits bounced supernaturally fast as she cried out into the echoing, empty room of the McMansion. Fingernails sunk deep into Steve's back and he put his thumbs into the sides of her torso as if he was trying to rip her in two. With his strong arms, he very nearly could. It was a formal miracle that her tiny body could withstand his thrusts.

Steve bottomed out inside her and tensed. If Rose hadn't cum earlier, she was close enough for it to count when he started emptying himself inside her. He fell into her a bit and they sat, breathing deeply and kissing each other for a moment.

He backed away and his cock fell out of her sodden pussy. Cream poured out of her ever so slowly and pooled on the end of the bar stool. She kept her arm draped around him and left her eyes shut, recovering. Steve had never asked if she was on the pill...he just went for it.

He scooped her up in his arms and they went to the bedroom down the hall. I wiped off the stool with a paper towel and poured myself some brandy. Steve must have recovered very quickly as it wasn't long until she was moaning and groaning again. I waltzed down the hall with my drink in hand and stood as far out of eyeshot as I could while peering into the doorway.

His huge body draped over her and she looked completely devoured. He held onto her bony hips with his palms and drove his thumbs into her tight little tummy. When he would rise up, I could see her little breasts gyrating as she rose higher and higher into another orgasm. HIs second load entered her, and he collapsed beside her.

I waited, patiently, for nearly a half hour as they recovered from their lovemaking. They made lovey dovey talk and both were all smiles. I didn't even need to hear the conversation...it was full of "I can't believe we did this," "I've wanted this for a long time," "I'll never tell anyone" type of patter. Kisses were interceded here and there. I think I heard Rose ask if Steve wanted to have kids some day. He enthusiastically replied and she was gleeful. In her world, men didn't do things like that unless they had intentions. She felt she could "choose" between him and her husband.

Then Steve went for it. What I've been waiting for. What Rose didn't see coming.

He leaned over to his side drawer and took out a small silver container. He untwisted the lid and laid a line of cocaine across his hand. I could see the shock and dismay in Rose's eyes as he did it, and she covered her exposed breasts with the sheet in a vain attempt to regain timidity.

"It's great, it's not like you've heard. I just do it when I have sex. It's like a drink at the pool, really."

I knew all along Steve never had an "inheritance." That he wasn't some nice farm boy from Iowa. That he lived in an unassuming neighborhood close to the city but away from the cops so he could conduct his business without scrutiny. I'd dragged my son out of McMansions like his at least a dozen times before he died. Steve was lucky that he had walked into my life just when I needed him most.

And there was the crossroads. At that point, a morning after pill or an ashamed run home to her unknowing husband would have saved Rose from her deep dive into forbidden fruit. But ingesting cocaine, a major self-destructing life decision by any standard, would be the decision that gave me the deepest sense of miserable victory. It went against everything in her nature, so if she proceeded, she was surely enraptured by Steve. She loved him in the feral, unstoppable way I needed her to. The one that would rip her agonizingly from her husband and her family and make her a glazed over disillusioned sadist like the rest of us. Or...even worse.