Sean and the Neighbor Lady

Thanks to John for the inspiration.

*****

I was walking home from the local shop, up my street, when, a block ahead of me, I saw my mother, Janet, in the front doorway of a house near ours. A man, about my age, was at the door, and gave my mother a quick kiss before she turned to leave. The door closed, and my mother came down the path to the pavement in front of the house. She turned away from me, hadn't seen me, and walked towards the house where John and I live.

I hurried after her, and caught up with her just in front of my own front path.

"Mum!" I said, sharply.

She turned, startled, and said, "Paula! I was just stopping in to see if you or John was home."

I bustled past her to the door, and let myself in with the latchkey. "Come in, Mum, John's not home right now."

We entered, I closed the door, we took off our coats, and walked into the front room.

"Cup of tea?" my Mum asked.

"I saw you," I said, staring hard at her.

"Saw me?" she asked, puzzled.

"Saw you with a man on this street," I said.

"Oh, I don't think ..." she began.

"Saw you kissing a man on this street," I said.

"Oh, dear," sighed my Mum, eyes widening. She sank into a front room chair. "I thought I was being so careful."

"Kissing a man on this street!" I said.

"You sound so angry," said my Mum, quietly.

"I'm outraged!" I said. "Are you having an affair with that man?"

"His name is Sean," said my Mum.

"Are you having an affair with this Sean," I said. Still standing, staring at my Mum.

"Your father hasn't been well, Paula," Mum said.

"I'm only asking once more, Mum: Are you having an affair with this man Sean, one of my neighbors?"

"I didn't mean it to get this far," said Mum. "Really, I didn't."

"I'll take that as a 'yes,' then," I said. "How could you? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking, maybe just a taste, before my time's up," said Mum quietly, eyes downcast.

"And no thought for me, for Dad?" I stormed on.

"It doesn't really have anything to do with you or your Dad," said Mum.

"How can you say that!" I fumed. "It has everything to do with us, our trust in you."

"Honestly, Paula, I can't see what my private life has to do with you," said Mum.

"My reputation! John's reputation!" I cried.

"I doubt they would be tarnished, without your helping tarnish them, Paula," said Mum, beginning to stand up for herself.

"And Dad?" I asked.

"He knows I've missed it, missed our intimacies," said Mum. "He knows I've been loyal to him."

"Does he know about this Sean?" I asked.

"He knows that ... something ... is happening," replied Mum. "I've asked if he wants to know more, and he said 'no.'"

"You told him?" I was incredulous.

"Not details," said Mum. "But I don't want to have secrets from your Dad."

"But it's OK to have secrets from your daughter, it appears," I said, know I sounded unreasonable.

"It's not a secret any more, is it?" asked my Mum. "What do you want to do about it?"

"I want it to stop, of course!" I said loudly.

"I hear you, Paula, but I don't think that's your choice to make," said Mum.

"How did you even meet this Sean?" I asked.

"Darren knows him," said Mum. "Sean's been helping Darren."

"Oh, that's just perfect!" I cried. "Darren causing me more grief!"

"This really isn't about you, Paula," said Mum. "Really, it isn't."

"Just get out," I said. "I can't talk to you any more right now. Get out."

My Mum, Janet, rose, put on her coat, and let herself out the front door.

I sat down, really steaming, and decided that I needed to confront this 'Sean' ... but first I needed a good stiff drink. Scotch, neat, thank you.

Late the next afternoon, after John had walked down to the local pub, I walked the other direction to that man Sean's house.

I went up the walk, and knocked firmly on the door. I was a bit surprised when it opened almost immediately. Part of me hoped the man wouldn't be home.

"Hello?" asked the pleasant looking man in the doorway.

"I live three doors up, and I need a word with you," I said.

"OK," said the man, Sean. "Come in."

Standing in the hallway, me still in my coat, the man said, "My name's Sean, and you are ...?" He held out his hand to shake.

I ignored the hand. "My name's not important. I need to talk to you about my family."

"You have me at a disadvantage," said Sean. "Do I know your family?"

"Janet and Darren," I said, sneering. "You know them, I think?"

"Ah," said Sean. "You must be Paula. Please come in."

"I don't need your hospitality," I said.

"Well, I'm going to sit down in my front room," said Sean. "You can talk to me from the entry-way, here, or you can join me in there." He turned and walked into his front room ... the house was very like ours.

I frowned and paused, then followed him into the front room. But I wasn't taking off my coat.

Sean was sitting, and pouring himself a glass of red wine. "Join me?" he asked.

"No," I said. "What have you been doing with my Mum, with Janet?"

"I don't think that's any of your business," smiled Sean.

"I'm making it my business!" I said. "I know you two have been up to ... things. I want to know why ... why you would be interested in a pensioner, at your age."

"Your mother is a beautiful woman," said Sean. "We enjoy spending a bit of time together."

"I'll bet you do," I said. "What are you after?"

"Friendship, love, happiness," said Sean.

"Don't be flippant with me!" I raged. "What do you do with my Mum?"

"I wasn't being flippant," said Sean. "I was honestly answering your question. As to what I do with your Mum, I think that's a question you'd better put to her."

"And what about my Dad?" I cried.

"Janet told me that Ray knows," said Sean. "I don't like secrets, much. I told Janet she had to be open with Ray."

"Oh, my God!" I said. "And what about Darren, what have you got to do with him?"

"Darren and I met in a support group I help with," said Sean. "I know he's come out to you as gay."

"Are you gay, too?" I demanded.

"That doesn't make any sense," said Sean. "But I do like women and men."

"Uggh!" I said. "You're disgusting!"

"Darren and I just talk," said Sean. "The support group is for those struggling with their sexuality, or whose family might be struggling."

"And he introduced you to my Mum?" I asked, still angry.

"I've met your Dad, too," said Sean. "You should talk with your mother."

"I intend to!" I said loudly, turning to leave.

"You might try a gentler tone with her," suggested Sean, politely. "I find people are more likely to be open with you if you're generous and open with them."

"I don't need your advice," I said. Feeling a little conflicted. Generally, I would agree with what Sean had just said, but I was too upset to accept it.

"Good-bye!" I said loudly.

"I look forward to our next meeting," said Sean. "Here's my contact information." He held out a business card to me.

I stomped out of his house, slamming the front door behind me. But I'd taken the card from his hand.

I became obsessed, thinking about what Mum was doing. I had all sorts of wild images flashing through my mind, and I took to drinking a bit too much, to calm my racing, raging imagination. I began keeping an eye out in the afternoons and evenings, after I got home from work. Peeking out my window, watching to see if Mum came back to Sean's. My husband, John, asked what was wrong. I told him "neighborhood watch," then shut up.

But it was a week, a week of obsessed watching an over-indulging, before I finally caught Mum walking up the path to Sean's front door, early in the evening. John was at the pub, again. I raced out, in my trainers, jeans, and sweatshirt, to see what was going on at Sean's.

It was nippy out, and the cold was making my nipples harden. I was also a little tipsy ... maybe I really was drinking too much. At Sean's house, rather than going to the door, I snuck around the side, to the sliding glass door in back, which I knew would be there. Same layout as our place.

I was very quiet, and very chilly, and I was happy to find that back glass slider unlatched. I paused for a second - what was I doing, sneaking into a neighbor's home? - but my intoxication, both the alcohol and my desperate desire to know what Mum was doing with Sean, emboldened me, and I slid open the door and slipped silently into Sean's dining area, next to the kitchen.

Everything seemed quiet. I trod carefully through the dining area and into the hall. I could hear something in one bedroom, but the door was closed ... and not quite all the way closed, I noticed. I got down on my hands and knees, and gently pushed the door, which opened quietly to give me a couple of inches to peer through.

I put my eye to the gap in time to see Sean unfasten my Mum's bra, letting her full breasts sag free down to the waist of her skirt, which covered her modest round tummy. I stifled a gasp.

My Mum is 73 years old, taller than five-and-a-half feet, and weighs about 180 pounds. She is not a fashion model. She is a mature, matronly, Mum. I had never thought about her sexually, until my imagination ran rampant this past week, and now I was seeing ... something ... something sexual ... happening.

Sean unzipped her skirt at the side, and slid it down, over her tummy and bottom and hips. Mum stepped out of her shoes, and sat down on the bed. She pulled off her knee-high stockings, then lifted her bum and slid off her slip and granny panties. My Mum, the grandmother of my children, lay back on the bed, her breasts falling to each side of her rib-cage, her knees bent at the bottom edge of the mattress, her feet still on the floor. Her legs looked a bit veiny and lumpy to me, and her pubic hair was matted and graying. She looked soft, cuddly, and grandmotherly, and naked.

"Tell me I'm beautiful, Sean," said my Mum.

"You're beautiful, Janet," said Sean. "May I taste you?"

"Please," said my Mum. And I watched, as Sean, still dressed, gently spread my Mum's legs apart, kneeled between them, and began to lick her ... there.

I couldn't tear my eyes away. And they kept at it for some time. Sean eventually stood, undressed, he was quite good looking, I thought, helplessly. My Mum scooched up onto the bed, raised her knees, and then they fucked.

I couldn't stay until they finished. I just couldn't. It was just as I had imagined, no - worse, better, than I imagined. As I sneaked back out the sliding glass door, I gave my crotch a little squeeze. I was going to have to change my moist panties.

Later that evening, after another drink or two, and after John had gone to bed, I rang my Mum. She answered after the fifth ring.

"Hello?" said my Mum.

"It's me, Mum," I said.

"It's very late, Paula," she said. "Is everything alright?"

"I watched you," I said. "I watched you with Sean."

"What?" said my Mum.

"I snuck into his house and I watched you," I said, now beginning to feel a guilty and foolish.

"Oh, dear," said Mum. "Why would you do that?"

"I had to know what you were doing with him, Mum!" I said, slurring a little.

"You've been drinking, haven't you, Paula?"

"So, what!" I replied. "I saw you naked. I saw him lick you ... there. I saw him naked. I saw you ... fucking!"

"Oh, my," said my Mum quietly. "What do you want me to say, Paula?"

"That you're sorry!" I said, into the telephone.

"But I'm not sorry," said my Mum. "I enjoyed it."

"You enjoyed some ... some ... BOY, young enough to be your son?" I blurted. "Licking you! Fucking you! You're my mother! You're a grandmother!"

"I still enjoyed it," said my Mum.

"And Dad?" I slurred. "He knows?"

"He knows what I'm doing, just not the details," said Mum. "He isn't interested in a blow-by-blow description. He just wants me to be happy."

"Are you going to run away with this Sean?" I asked.

"I'm in love with your father, Paula," said Mum. "I'm not going anywhere. There are just some things he can't do any more, things I'd like, and things he'd like me to enjoy."

"But you were naked!" I said. "Sean touched your breasts, your nipples, your ... your pussy! What else have you two been doing?"

"Just oral sex and intercourse, Paula," said Mum. "Do you really need to know more than that?"

"Oral sex!" I said. "I suppose you've taken him in your mouth, too!"

"Yes," said my Mum. "I think I'm pretty good at that."

"Mum!" I shouted into the telephone.

"Paula, dear," said my Mum. "You're sounding jealous."

I hung up the phone. I had another drink. And went to bed. But my fevered sex dream images were back in force.

It was another week before I could collect myself enough to ring Sean, at the number he'd given me on his card. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I knew I wasn't finished.

"Oh, hi, Paula," said Sean. "What can I do for you?"

"Can I come over and talk to you?" I asked.

"Well, I'm busy right now," said Sean. "I'm with someone ... but wait, it might be OK if we ..." and Sean's hand must have covered the telephone mouthpiece, as if he was talking to someone else, in the room with him.

"I'm back," said Sean. "If you want to come over, we think that might be a good idea."

"I'm on my way," I said, hanging up the telephone. We?

I walked quickly to Sean's house, anticipating a confrontation with Sean and my mother ... who else might be there?

But it wasn't Mum. It was my brother, Darren.

"Hi, Paula," said Darren, as I came into the front room, after Sean had welcomed me and taken my coat at the front door.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Sean and I meet to talk every couple of weeks," said Darren. "More often than you and I talk."

"You know why," I said.

"And so do I," said Sean.

"What?" I said. "Are you his therapist now?"

"No," said Sean. "I'm Darren's friend. And he's told me some of his history."

"Does Darren know what you've been doing with our mother?" I demanded, looking triumphantly at Darren.

"Yes, I know," said Darren. "Mum doesn't share details, but I know that she and Sean are friendly."

"Especially friendly," I said. "Naked in the bedroom friendly."

"I know," said Darren. "And Sean does know why we don't talk much."

"What did you tell him," I asked, suspiciously.

"I told him that when we were younger, I climbed into your bed, and tried to do things with you," said Darren. "I told him how, at first, you seemed OK with it, but then you got really upset."

"And you've not been very friendly since," said Sean.

"That's our personal, family business," I said. "Not any business of Sean's."

"But we never talked about it," said Darren. "I never came to terms with what was happening, to me, to us."

"But you're gay!" I almost shouted.

"I didn't know that then," said Darren. "All I knew is that I wanted to be with my sister, and I thought she wanted to be with me, then everything went wrong. And stayed wrong. All these years."

"I could never, ever, be with my own brother," I cried. "My hormones were raging, too, and I wanted ... wanted ... something. But, then, I thought 'NO,' not with my own brother!"

"But you never told him that, Paula," said Sean.

"I was confused," I said. "I couldn't."

"Then why are you able to say it now?" asked Darren.

"Because everything is crazy, now," I said. "Mum's having an affair with this man. You know it. Dad knows it. Mum likes it. And I don't know what to think. I sort of wish ..."

"Wish what?" asked Darren.

"That we had done something, when we were younger, got it out of our systems, stayed friends, somehow," I blathered. "I know it's wrong, and bad ... and ... and there's something else."

"Something else?" encouraged Sean.

"Mum said I sounded jealous," I said. "And she's sort of right. Everybody feeling good, trying to feel good, except for me."

Darren said, "But you and John seem fine."

"We are fine," I said. "But we could be better. Things happen. We judge one another. We feel wronged. We behave as we think we ought to, rather than the way we want to."

"I wish we could go back in time," said Darren. "I wish you could do it with me now. I've never stopped thinking about you."

"It's still wrong, Darren," I said. "Wrong for me. I can't make love with my own brother. I just can't. Even if you want to, even if it seems arousing to me, sort of."

"Well, maybe I could watch you make love," said Darren. "Spy on you and John, maybe?"

"You're just being silly, now," I said. "I want you to get over this obsession, that's all. Just get over it."

"I don't think I will," said Darren. "But I'd still like to watch you, sometime."

"Well, not with John," I said. "That would be too weird. And I don't know who else."

"Is there someone else?" asked Darren.

"No! Who else could I trust?" I said.

"You could trust Sean," said Darren.

"Are you suggesting that I make love with Sean, so you can watch us?" I asked. "How could I do that? He's having an affair with Mum!"

"All in the family, I guess," said Darren.

"I feel a bit left out of this conversation," said Sean.

"Sorry!" I said sarcastically. "Do you think we should make love, and let Darren watch?"

"It might be fun," said Sean.

"Everything can't be fun!" I protested. "Some things just have to make us feel bad!"

"But this could be something that makes us feel good," smiled Sean.

I thought for a moment. So many erotic images flooding my imagination. Talking like this was getting me aroused, even if I thought I shouldn't be feeling this way.

"I need something to drink," I said.

Sean got up and fetched a bottle of red wine and three wine glasses. He opened the bottle, and poured us each a full glass. I drank off my glass in one big gulp.

"And John can never know," I said. "Can I have another glass of wine, please?"

Sean poured me another glass of Dutch courage. "That's your choice," he said. "I'm not happy about it. What about Janet?"

"Oh, Mum can know," I said, draining my glass quickly again. "We can compare notes. OK, so, where's the bedroom, before I change my mind?"

Sean led the way into the bedroom, the room where I'd watched him with Mum. He smoothed out the covers of the bed and undressed, then sat on the bed, naked, and looked at me.

I pulled my sweatshirt off over my head. I pulled my feet out of my trainers, and used my toes and heels to pull off my socks, so I could hold Sean's eyes with mine as I undressed. I unfastened the waist of my jeans, and wriggled out of them. Darren was standing in the doorway now, watching.

I love my matching bra and panty sets. The sheer panties I was wearing now showed my untrimmed pussy hair clearly, the hair down there so much darker than the shoulder-length blonde hair on my head. The bra allowed the deeper pink color of the nipples on my breasts to show through.

"Ohhh," said Darren. He had sat down in a chair by the bedroom door, and was squeezing his penis through his trousers.

"Masturbate, if you want," I said. "I'm too far gone now to worry about that." I unfastened my bra at the front, and let my breasts sag free. By the time I had my panties off, Darren's trousers and underpants were around his ankles, and his hard penis was in his hand.

Sean stood up. His uncircumcised penis was hard, too. Not too big, not too small. He stepped to me, and swept me up in his arms, I clasped my hands at the back of his neck, and he kissed me. Sean turned and set me gently on the bed.

"What if I come in from behind?" said Sean. "You could face Darren and watch him, if you like."

"OK," I said. "OK." I got on hands and knees, facing my brother, who was staring at me, rubbing his penis. My breasts were swinging free, when I felt Sean probing me for entrance.

"OK, Paula?" said Sean.

"I'm not very tight," I said. "I've had children."