Love Thy Neighbors Ch. 01

The Bullocks

Robert Crane slowly panned his head around the table taking in each of his neighbors who had attended the first outing of their neighborhood dinner club. They had all bought homes in a unique new housing development with only twenty-five garden/patio homes. It was built in a square with seven homes each on three sides and four dwellings along the front side, two on either side of the entrance. In the middle was a small fitness center and pool. Seven households were members of this dinner club for a total of eleven people, four couples and three single women. The remaining eighteen households seemed to want to keep to themselves.

The eleven were like-minded people who had moved into the subdivision looking to meet people like themselves. Two couples, Brad and Roxanne Bullock and Don and Kara Brown, were in their early forties; one, Robert and Joan Crane, in their early fifties; and one, Darrel and Maude Burke, in their late fifties, early sixties—it was hard to tell. One of the single women, Peg Small, was early forty; and the other two, Gale Lang and Lorna Goodman, somewhere in their fifties.

They gathered informally from time to time on a temperate evening on someone's patio to drink wine and chat, and out of several of those evenings their dinner club was born.

Roxanne Bullock leaned into Robert, ostensibly to talk to Peg Small on his other side, but she managed to press herself against him rather well, causing his wife, Joan, who was sitting across from him, to raise her eyebrows. He returned a slight shrug with a facial expression that said he had no idea what Roxanne was doing . . . but the truth was, he knew. On Mrs. Bullock's other side, her husband, Brad, was not as oblivious as he appeared.

The Bullocks were the first people that the Cranes had met in the development. Their two houses were the first two that were built and the couples ran into each other every few days after work at the construction site to see the progress of their homes. They became friendly and exchanged phone numbers to keep each other appraised of how things were going. Eventually, after meeting on site, they would go to dinner together.

As Robert and Joan got to know their future neighbors better, though likeable, they found Brad and Roxanne to be somewhat eccentric. Brad was easygoing and made poor attempts at being funny, which sometimes could be mistaken for unfriendliness. Roxanne was loud, but as far as Robert was concerned, she was very attractive, so he could overlook the rest.

Once the two couples moved into their new homes, within two weeks of each other, Robert gradually learned that the Bullocks' eccentricity, though somewhat real, was really more to disguise another secret.

Robert Crane was a web designer who created and managed a number of websites for clients. He worked from home, and so, was in the neighborhood all the time. To break the monotony, he took frequent walks around the development to see what the others were doing in their homes. All of the houses were basically the same floor plan, but people were doing little things differently, which made each structure somewhat unique, at least to its owner. During one of his walks, Robert discovered that Roxanne, who worked for a computer hardware repair shop, came home for lunch every day. From then on, the timing of his midday walk became more calculated.

At first, Roxanne would sometimes just wave, but occasionally she would stop, roll her window down and chat for a minute or two. As time went on, these little visits got longer, but never more than five or ten minutes. Robert also noticed that her tops became lower and her skirts shorter. So, as he stood talking to her he was able to glance down at her nicely rounded breasts and her shapely thighs. At first, he was discreet as he looked, but there were times when she caught him, and not too surprisingly, she seemed more thrilled than angry. In fact, it appeared the more obvious he was the harder her nipples became and she rubbed her thighs together as though squeezing her pussy lips.

This was not a daily occurrence as there were days when he was actually working when she arrived home for lunch. However, one day, after their talk as she drove off and pulled into her garage, Robert remembered something he wanted to tell her so he walked down to catch her before she closed the garage door. But as he was about to enter, he thought he heard her moaning. At first, it sounded as though she might be crying, yet just as he was about to step in to see what was the matter, he detected a change in the sounds escaping her lips. To be sure, Roxanne was moaning, but it was the sort associated with pleasure. And when he saw that she was slumped in her seat, he could tell that she was masturbating. He was desperate to see for sure, but there was no place he could get closer without getting caught. But he did stay and listen until she achieved a pretty sizeable orgasm. She then staggered from her car into the house carrying her panties in her hand.

The thought that him being obvious about watching her as they talked had excited her enough not only to make herself come but to do it so urgently instead of waiting until she went inside was more than he could take. He had to go home and whack off himself.

After Robert shot a satisfying and surprisingly heavy load, he came to his senses and realized that only his own ego could make him believe that he was the cause of Roxanne's need to masturbate in her car. Still, he was a pretty horny guy so he allowed himself the fantasy.

However, that did not prevent him two days later when they saw each other again from sneaking near her garage and listening after she pulled in. Not surprisingly, it happened again. She masturbated and he went home and did the same. Needless to say, Robert was quite pleased with himself. But not as much as when it happened again the next day.

Of course, it was inevitable that Robert would get caught. His quest to actually see Roxanne pleasure herself became an exercise in carelessness.

"Robert, what are you doing?"

Robert had never done anything like this before. He had never been so obsessed with anything that he had gone to such lengths to accomplish something so devious. He was, therefore, quite embarrassed to be compromised in such a manner; so much so, he was speechless.

"Were you watching me?" Roxanne asked.

But Robert was so busy being embarrassed that he didn't notice that there was no anger in her voice, nor did she really seem appalled. He tried to cover up. "I thought I heard something."

"I'll bet you did," she smirked.

"I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I . . . I—"

"Was I really loud?"

"You drew my attention," he fibbed.

"Well, then maybe neither of us is at fault."

"I'm really sorry, Rox. You and Brad are good friends and—"

"And you might want to quit while you're ahead."

"Enough said."

But the next day, when Roxanne stopped, she said, "I have a confession. Would you mind getting in so I can explain?"

Robert was hesitant, but she scratched her thigh pulling her already short skirt up higher. He was a guy who liked women, liked to look at them, even enjoyed a little porn, much to his wife's chagrin, and even though he had never cheated on Joan, the lure of a beautiful woman inviting him into her car, even though in all likelihood innocent, was more than he could resist.

Once in, Roxanne drove the few yards to her garage and pulled in. She twisted in her seat to face him, knowing that the position was pushing her breasts up to more exposure and her skirt slid higher displaying more thigh. She expected him to look at both, and he did not disappoint.

"So, what is this confession?" Robert asked.

"First, I want to say that I think you're a terrific man, a complete gentleman. Brad and I like you very much. All of the people we've talked to who are building here that you've met say the same."

"We'll, you certainly know how to disarm a guy," Robert said with a blush. "But thanks nonetheless."

"My purpose in telling you that, aside from the obvious, is to further say that what I'm about to say I wouldn't just tell to anyone—even Joan, I should add."

"Uh-oh. Now I'm worried." He said it jokingly, but it wasn't far from the truth.

Roxanne took a deep breath. "This is probably as unnerving for me as for you."

"Now I'm really worried."

She smiled nervously. "The fact is I'm something of an exhibitionist. But before you get the wrong impression, let me clarify that I do not go around exposing myself to just anyone. It's really more of a game with Brad when we're out that I show off a little more leg and cleavage, but only for him."

"But certainly others see also," Robert pointed out.

"Yes, I'm sure they do," Roxanne admitted. "But that's where the turn on is for me; knowing other men are looking at me, maybe even ogling over me."

"I have to ask, does Brad not satisfy you?"

"Brad is a good husband and provider. I love him very much." With a grimace, she added, "But I would not go quite so far as to say he does not satisfy me. We both need a little something extra to . . . help us along."

Robert nodded his understanding. "I'd like to think that I'm open-minded, so I get your need for the stimulus exercises. But what does that have to do with me?" Although he had a pretty good idea.

"As I gradually discovered you checking me out as we've talked over the last few weeks, I also realized that I was getting turned on by it. So, I got a little bolder in what I let show. And the more interest you displayed, the more excited I became until, as you witnessed, I had to . . . to . . . take care of myself right away. And knowing you were lurking as I did aroused me as I've never been."

"So, are you saying you want me to keep lurking?"

With a sheepish grin, Roxanne said, "Well, I can't stop you from walking around the neighborhood. And if it happens to be when I . . ."

"And if Brad finds out?"

"You just leave him to me."

It occurred to Robert that if he remained in her car long enough, Roxanne would probably have masturbated herself right in front of him to feed her exhibitionist hunger. Would he allow himself to stay and watch something like that? The discussion so far had gone way beyond anything he had previously experienced, and just the roundabout request for him to keep "watching" made him think he was living out some Literotica story.

Even after he had returned home and had his own handjob, Robert still could not stop thinking about it. On the one hand he was perplexed by it; on the other, he was intrigued.

The other consideration was where this was all headed. As it was, it had escalated to where it was rather quickly. It was mostly harmless and was certainly better stimulation than internet porn, but he didn't really know Brad and Roxanne well enough to know what secrets they harbored. Ostensibly, they seemed to be decent people, but who knew if there were sordid skeletons in their closet.

And then there was Joan. He'd honestly never cheated on her, but that's not to say he had never thought about it—not that he'd had that many opportunities. Besides, they'd always had a good, active, wild and crazy sex life. There were few things they had not done sexually. But then, somewhere along the way it started to get mundane, less exciting—as though they'd done it all and there was nothing new left to try. This was about when they'd hit their late 40s. They both chalked it off to being older and not needing as much sex as they used to have. Four to five times a week turned into four to five times a month, which could evolve into four to five times a year. He loved her and knew she loved him, and while the sex they still had was satisfying, he didn't particularly like how it had evolved. Internet porn and his hand had compensated somewhat. But it wasn't the same as a warm, wet pussy.

But how far was he willing to let it go with Roxanne? And if it went farther, how much could he resist?

Still, it didn't stop him from playing their little game the next day; and the day after.

But on the third day, they took the inevitable next step.

Once again, she invited him into her car and pulled into her garage. Then, to his complete surprise, she closed the garage door.

"You kidnaping me?"

"I . . . have another confession to make."

"I thought I was your voyeur, not your priest," Robert joked.

"You've given me new life. I've been feeling great, and, good about myself."

"All because of this little . . . game . . . we've been playing?

"Nothing else I can attribute it to."

For lack of anything better to say: "Glad I could be of help."

"Good, because I need more help."

Robert rolled his eyes ever so slightly, more because he had walked into this rather than what she said. "And that would be?"

"Could you just sit here?" Roxanne asked, somewhat hesitantly.

"Just sit here?" Robert asked, confused, even though he had an inkling where this was going. "Do you want to talk more?"

"I'm done talking. I need something else." Roxanne pulled her skirt up slowly. As it was already pretty high up, it didn't have far to go before her bare, shaved pussy was revealed.

A mixture of scary and exciting thoughts flooded Robert's head. "I was wondering if it would come to this."

"Coming is exactly what I had in mind."

"You want me to sit here while you . . ."

"I want you to sit here while I . . ." she nodded, matter-of-factly.

"And watch." A multitude of thoughts—fear, excitement and everything in between—ran through Robert's mind, yet he was mesmerized by the sight of Roxanne as she was already fingering her glistening clit, a look of utter contentment on her face. So, he thought, what harm was there in watching? It was live porn. No different than what he watched on the internet. What was wrong with that; particularly as she reached up to fondle one of her breasts?

His cock pulsed, already having achieved rock hardness at the first appearance of her vaginal lips. He could feel pre-cum ooze out as she unbuttoned a couple of buttons on her shirt and lifted her nicely rounded tit out of its cup so she could squeeze her nipple.

Roxanne was so keyed up; she was squirming and moaning in seconds. He'd never really seen a woman masturbate herself, but this looked intense. She came and she came hard. At one point, he thought she might even pass out. He felt more liquid seep from his cock, and it was nearly all he could do not to take it out and jerk it mercilessly.

Before her breathing could even return to normal, she opened her eyes and stared at him for a moment, and then as though embarrassed, she hurriedly exited her car and ran inside.

With a shrug, Robert just as quickly returned home to relieve the aching in his balls.

* * *

Robert also took afternoon walks, and on occasion, he was out and about when Brad Bullock was coming home from work, though not as often as he seemed to catch Roxanne. Like his wife, Brad would stop, roll down his window and talk to his neighbor.

Still in a daze from the lunch time show, Robert did not consider that he might run into Brad the same day. So, he was caught off guard when the younger man stopped to exchange pleasantries. Robert was nervous, but Brad seemed none the wiser, so they talked.

Then, just as Robert was beginning to relax, Brad threw him another curve. "Let's all go to dinner tomorrow evening."

Robert didn't answer right away. After the car incident today, was he ready to spend more than just a few minutes with Brad? Roxanne had become unpredictable. But he quickly remembered that Joan was going out of town tomorrow for the weekend to visit her elderly mother, which she did every few weeks. He conveyed this to Brad.

"So, you're going to be alone this weekend?" Brad asked.

"Yes. Happens periodically."

"Then all the more reason. No need for you eat by yourself."

Robert didn't see that one coming. "Thanks, but I don't want to be the third wheel."

"Don't be ridiculous. We don't care about that."

It might almost just be quite interesting to see how this couple would behave.

"Just come over. We'll cook. Roxanne has wanted to try some new dish. I insist."

"Shouldn't you talk to her first?"

"Trust me. She'll be thrilled."

With a shrug, Robert surrendered. "Okay. Thanks."

* * *

Joan thought it was a terrific idea for him to have dinner with the Bullocks. Of course, he couldn't tell her why he wasn't sure he wanted to go, so he had to pretend that he was looking forward to it, and to some extent, he was. But to play it safe, he skipped his noon walk to avoid Roxanne. Oddly enough, just after the time she would have left home to return to work after lunch, Brad called to confirm that dinner was on and that his wife was excited to be cooking for him. Robert bet that was not all she was excited about.

As the appointed hour arrived, Robert tried to get himself in a mental place to be prepared for anything from Roxanne. But then he realized: what could she do with Brad there? Still, for extra fortification, he mixed himself a martini and drank it slowly. As a result, he knocked on the Bullocks' door ten minutes late.

"Well, we were beginning to get worried," Brad remarked as he admitted their guest.

"Thought I'd be fashionably late," Robert quipped.

"Hi, Rob," Roxanne called from the kitchen.

Rob? No one called him that. "Hey," he shouted back. The martini was kicking in, but it lasted only seconds until he saw Roxanne. He stopped short to avoid tripping over his jaw as it hit the floor.

She was dressed in what looked like a combination tennis outfit (as far as he knew she didn't play—tennis, that is) and cheerleader uniform: all white, short, flared skirt about mid-thigh length, but it was the connected top that was most stunning. It was sleeveless and cut in a deep V all the way down to her waist and there were no buttons, zipper, snaps or other method of fastening it together. The knit material clung to her breasts defining their nearly perfect roundness, which, given the probability she wore no bra, was quite impressive.

Robert was brought back to reality when he felt Brad push up on his jaw to close his mouth. Upon realizing he'd been caught staring, he apologized to his host.

"That's alright. I would have been disappointed had you not. Actually, I should have warned you," Brad noted. "She likes to be comfortable around the house."

"Even with company?" Robert couldn't help asking.

Brad shrugged. "No. But with certain close friends."

Robert nodded slowly, thinking about what "close" friends might mean.

By now, Roxanne had come to a stopping point so she walked over to the two men. On closer inspection, Robert's belief that she wore no bra was confirmed, not that he could have imagined any kind she could have worn given the openness of her top, and something told him that she probably had nothing on under her skirt either. She leaned over and gave Robert a casual hug, making sure to press her breasts firmly against him. He wondered if she'd had a boob job.

"What can I get you to drink?" she asked.

"Whatever the two of you are having."

"Brad's drinking beer. I've made a shrimp pasta dish, so I'm having white wine."

"White wine will be fine."

As she walked back to the kitchen to fetch his wine, Brad was grinning. "Hope you're not offended. She just likes to show off."

"I guess if it doesn't bother you, it shouldn't bother me."

"Good. And don't feel bad about looking. She also loves the attention."

With eyebrows raised in amazement, Robert asked, "And you don't have a problem with that?"

"I'm secure in our relationship." He poked his neighbor in the bicep and winked. "Sometimes it makes for some exciting things in the bedroom."