Thy Neighbor's Wife Ch. 01

Thy Neighbors Wife

"My God, you're a lucky fucker!"

I had to ignore it, pretend it wasn't being said to me, but since Larry was sitting behind and looking over my shoulder, I knew it was. I'd just been dealt pocket bullets, and despite that I'd told Larry multiple times that poker isn't about the cards, it's about the players, at times he still couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Larry wasn't a very good player; essentially, he knew that a pair of aces would beat a pair of anything else. I knew he'd seen the pocket aces, but it was the Ace-King-King that showed up on the flop, giving me a full house, aces full of kings, that had elicited the untoward comment. I wanted to turn around and deck him, but instead I pretended I hadn't heard or that it didn't apply to me. It was my bet, so I hesitated. That I had the top hand, I was virtually certain of. Aces full of kings on the flop? What to do?

"Check." When in doubt, punt, right? That it was all a feint, trying to elicit a thought that I didn't have anything to the other two players was what I was now trying to sell. I passed it on to Pete, the third player, who was the only reason we were still playing.

The eight of us got together every month in my game room for a friendly poker game. We all threw in $100, enough that it stung if you lost, but not enough to kill any of us, and not enough to make the winner have much more than bragging rights. Not that any of us were filthy rich or anything, but none of us lost any sleep by losing a hundred.

Not that I lost all that often, it was pretty obvious that I was the best player -- if nothing else, just that I took home the "big pot" about half the time. There were two others that were pretty decent players, Pete and Dave, Pete being one of the two that were currently left. If I won half the time, Pete, and Dave won about half of the remaining times that I didn't, and the lesser players donated their money most of the time, the five of them sharing the wins that last quarter of the time.

"I'll open," Pete said. I knew he was just "keeping it honest" so that Danny, the last player left, couldn't just "buy" the pot with a huge bid that the rest of us didn't want to chance seeing. I knew I had a strong hand, but an opening weak bid, despite Larry's over the shoulder stab in my back, had to make them wonder.

"I'll see it and raise," Danny said. Danny was a weak player, but even weak players get good cards occasionally. I had to wonder what he had. A king and he'd have trips, but my trip aces beat him. Possibly, I'd have to watch him on the turn and the river -- if another king came out, that could be four of a kind -- the only hand that could beat me. But pocket aces and a full boat on the flop? I called. So did Pete.

Pete dealt the turn, a nine matching the Ace of the flop -- nothing to challenge my full boat. I checked again, Pete bet again, and this time Danny said "All in."

Shit. Nothing like a poor player going all in. Danny was one of those that regularly watched the World Series of Poker on TV, and didn't realize that the 10 guys on the table he was watching had been playing for four straight days and hadn't once in those four days called "all in," exactly why they were still playing They were the final 10 of literally hundreds who had started, and hearing "all in" from one of that group was a far cry from the penny-ante stuff that we played. But -- his bid made me pause. I looked down, my pot was easily twice his in size, but my hand was too good to just fold. I called. Pete folded, and we flipped our cards.

When do pocket kings beat pocket aces? When you get an Ace-King-King on the flop. Four of a kind and I watched Danny's pot go to the largest on the table, while Pete and I were now virtually even. Advantage, Danny.

"Hey Larry, get me another beer?" I asked, pointing at the sign over the bar, "Adam's Pool Hall: Liquor in the Front, Poker in the rear, the Bar is Always Open" trying to let my irritation at his faux pas slip away. The fact was, I wouldn't have won anyway -- Danny was one of those guys that stayed around when he should be dropping out - but tonight the cards had gone his way. Just one of those nights.

Larry slipped another cold one into my spot; I noticed he'd made himself another Jack and Coke. From past experience with Larry, along with his slurred speech and stumbling between the bar and the table, I suspected there was more Jack than Coke in his drink. No worries, but as had happened in the past I knew I'd be walking him home for Lara to put him to bed.

As it was, now with the large pot in front of him, it took another two hours for Danny to finally shoot himself in the foot so that Pete and I split the winnings. We'd long ago given up on the back and forth of guts when there were just two of us left -- which could go on for hours if we were both pretty evenly matched. Our "rule" was that once we got down to two of us left, unless one of us was about to clear out the other, we just threw in, counted the individual pots, and the big pot took $500 which we reasoned was about 2/3's, the smaller pot got $300 and we called it a night. It wasn't really 2/3's and 1/3, which would have been $533 and $266, but most of us threw in a hundred-dollar bill and since it was about the playing and bragging rights more than the actual money, we were all happy with that. Most of the time by then it was pretty much a moot point in that the "big" stash was about ten times the "small" stash -- but occasionally it came down to just a few chips difference. There had been a few times where someone had gone ahead with the "guts" play and won everything, but usually that mutually beneficial ending was about midnight. But with Danny's luck, tonight it was 2 am.

"Come on, buddy, let's walk you home," I said to Larry, stepping back over to the couch where he'd laid down and putting out a hand to help him.

"My god you're a fucky lucker," he said, sticking out his hand but making no effort to rise from where he was laying down, and broke into laughter as his word inversion. "Gimme a minute," he said.

"Nah, get up. If I give you a minute, you'll never get up and you'll still be here in the morning." I pulled on his hand and he sat up. Another pull and he stood, and then virtually fell against me. I draped his arm over my shoulder, and we started walking toward the stairs.

"You're such a lucky fucker," he said, managing to say it correctly this time. "I tell ya, buddy, I'd give my left nut to spend the night with her. You get to go upstairs and suck on those beautiful nipples... you'll do that won't you... go upstairs and suck those babies..."

"You're drunk, Larry."

"Yeah, I am. And horny. You're going to go upstairs and suck on those gorgeous nipples and get laid and I'll not get anything. I'd give my left nut to trade with you. You take me upstairs and I'll fuck the shit out of Suzie and then you go over and climb in bed with Lara... She'll never know. Did I tell you that I love your wife's nipples? They just drive me crazy."

Larry and Lara, our next-door neighbors, had become best friends with Suzie and me over the four years that we'd lived next to each other. When we moved in, Suzie recognized Lara worked for the same company she did and, with the same working hours, ended up becoming carpool buddies immediately. Half an hour together in the morning and again in the evening, and soon enough they were hitting the gym together daily and sharing everything as best girlfriends did.

Larry and I also had a lot in common, including poker, but it hadn't ever, until now, included talking about fucking each other's wife -- or in this case him talking about fucking mine. If he hadn't been drunk on his butt and probably had no idea of what he was saying, I probably would have decked him. As it was, again I said, "You're drunk. How about we get you to bed and you sleep it off?"

Larry almost always got drunk on poker nights, as he usually lost early. Once he got eliminated from the game, he'd sit and drink his Jack and Coke, but with tonight's extra couple of hours, he'd gotten extra soused. I don't think I'd ever seen him quite this drunk, and never in our years had he ever said anything untoward about my wife. I ignored it, passing it off as the ramblings of a raving drunk.

The lights were off at their house. I knew that usually Lara would stay up until he came home, but apparently, she'd given up tonight. And as staggering drunk as Larry was, he couldn't make it up the outside stairs, let alone the inside staircase, alone.

"Come on," I said, "let's get you to bed."

The lights were out everywhere except for one in the bedroom next to Larry's side of the bed. Lara was asleep, lying on her back, with earplugs and an eye cover on. I didn't pay any attention to her with Larry practically dragging me to the ground, other than to notice she had bed clothes showing above the sheet. I wasn't paying attention, but didn't sense her even stirring to our intrusion. Lara had complained to Suzie about Larry snoring once when she came out to go to work one morning looking like hell warmed over. She told about how she always had to go to bed before Larry as she couldn't fall asleep with him snoring, but the night before that day, she hadn't. She said that once she was asleep nothing bothered her, but if he was snoring, she'd toss and turn until - maybe - eventually she'd fall asleep. Suzie had suggested ear plugs and the mask, and it had worked.

I got Larry into the chair by the wall and knelt to untie his shoes. He got them and his socks off with my help, and then I helped with his shirt. A polo, it was a chore to get him to put his arms up without falling over -- and he almost did that three times before we got that off. I got him to stand, undid his belt and pants, again nearly losing him before I got him set back down. I worked his pants off his legs, leaving him in just his boxers. I pulled the sheets back, got him up and over to the bed where I no longer tried to help him. He swung his legs up in bed, and collapsed onto the pillow. "Do you think Suzie would suck my cock? She's got the greatest nipples, doesn't she?"

"Shhh! Go to sleep," I said, and when I reached for the bedside light, for the first time my eyes crossed over the bed to Lara.

I stopped, stunned. Lara hadn't moved since we'd come in, apparently that she could sleep through a freight train going by was absolutely true.

Suzie and Lara had become best friends, but physically they were as far apart as night and day. Suzie was five-eight, had an athlete's body. Strong, supple legs, a gorgeous firm ass and skinny. A firm belly led to a virtually tit-less torso. She'd never needed a bra, seldom wore one, despite that her nipples were half an inch long all the time, and when aroused were twice that long. That Larry had, in his out of control drunken stupor, been saying that he wanted to suck them hadn't been that much of a surprise. Many had been the time when I'd heard the "Oh My God, it must be cold outside" or similar comments from men when Suzie came to join me somewhere, where whoever said it didn't know that she was mine. Many was the "Oh shit, I didn't realize..." apology of a man who had just been admiring her most delectable assets.

Suzie said she'd gotten used to the looks and comments from boys, she'd been getting them since high school, and felt no need to hide that portion of her body any more than she wanted to hide her legs or bottom. She was especially dynamite in her swimsuit, always a tight fitting one piece, that left little to the imagination. Gorgeous bare legs that reached from the ground clear to heaven, with pouty pussy lips that always gave a great camel toe and long nips that couldn't be hidden even if she wanted to hide them. She'd never worn bikini's as long as I'd known her as she couldn't fill out the tops, they just didn't fit right, and she always turned heads from drooling males on the beach.

Lara on the other hand was just barely 5 foot tall. She always said she was "five foot and one quarter inch," but Larry always laughed when she did that and added, "Yeah, and that one quarter inch is more important than the other 5 feet." She'd then slap him, and giggling say, "Stop that."

But what Lara lacked in height, she more than made up for in curves. Whereas Suzie was tall and lanky, Lara was short and rounded. Where Suzie wore a one-piece swimsuit, Lara had bikini's that she filled out both top and bottom. Where Suzie was proud of her nipples and unashamed to let them be seen, Lara was rightly proud of both her bottom and her boobs, and had shown them off over the years in her own way. She'd had multiple different bikini's, a new one every year, and although she'd never had a full butt-floss thong bottom that I knew of, I did know she currently had a Brazilian cut that left about half of her ass bare when she wore it. She didn't show the camel toe that Suzie did, but her bare bottom more than made up for it. Lara also turned heads on the beach, but for different assets.

I'd seen Lara's bikini tops vary from year to year. Normally she had large full coverage cups as her boobs, as full as a pair of grapefruit, needed the support, but at least once she'd had a "barely there" bikini top that couldn't have much more than covered her nipples leaving most of her breasts both above and below the "cups" exposed. I know they'd made a trip to Spain and France, and she had it when they came back. It didn't cover much, and didn't do much to stop the bounce as she walked. With that top, most of her boobs were exposed, although even then I hadn't been able to detect her nipples, as they'd remained flat. Suzie just thought about sex and her nipples grew, Lara either never thought of sex, or her nipples just didn't respond that way.

But now, with Larry already beginning to snore, I found myself looking at his virtually topless wife beside him. The sheet was just over her lower body, stopping a few inches below her breasts. Her nightie was a diaphanous baby doll, her large breasts totally visible through the thin material. Despite their size they appeared to rest comfortably on her chest with no appreciable sag. Large pinkish areolas were surrounded by a miniscule amount of untanned flesh, confirming that, even though I hadn't seen her wear it recently, her small bikini really hadn't covered much more than her nipples.

As if in a trance, I left the light on and walked around the bed until I was standing next to Lara.

Just as Larry had apparently lusted over my wife's nipples, I had also lusted over his wife's body and breasts, truthfully her whole tiny package with the oversized assets front and back.

I guess we always wish for what we don't have, or perhaps we always think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.

I should have walked away. I should have stepped back over to the light, turned it off, and let myself out. Instead, I stood there admiring my neighbor's wife's beautiful tits.

That Lara was a "fantasy" of mine, apparently the same as Suzie being a fantasy of Larry, I could not deny. I'd masturbated to thoughts of fucking her several times, even so far as standing behind the curtains of our upstairs window admiring her by their pool where Suzie and Larry and Lara were lying in the sun. I'd been there with them just minutes before, but had not been able to control my mind or my cock so had made an excuse to go home and take care of myself. Just a few minutes later I was back, pressure relieved.

Lara's one hand was under the sheet next to Larry, her other hand underneath the sheet on her belly. Like I said, I should have walked away. Instead, I reached down and gently cupped her breast.

Maybe it's being married to a woman with virtually no breasts. Maybe it's the remembrance of playing with the neighbor girl as a youth, the one who developed breasts early and had loved to have them fondled. Maybe it was that every other girlfriend I'd ever had was better endowed than my wife. Or maybe it was just that I was a dick. Whatever the reason, I found myself standing there feeling the wonderful mound on the chest of Lara. I gently moved my hand to her far breast, allowing my thumb to gently stroke across her nipple. I felt it expand immediately, going from flat to a barely perceptible bump, but I recognized her body had responded to my touch. I lifted my hand off her breast and stepped back, reaching down to reposition my cock which had expanded totally in my pants, now extending down a pant leg.

I had just fondled my neighbor's wife, my wife's best friend, and she had barely responded. She hadn't known it at all.

How was it that Larry could come to bed with this minx day after day and be lusting after my wife? The baby doll that she was wearing did nothing to hide her body, in fact it only enhanced it. Was this something she wore every night? I don't know why, but suddenly realized it probably wasn't, this was something she wore when she wanted to get laid. Normally Larry would have been home about midnight. Lara had gone to bed waiting for him, Lara had been waiting for him to come home and take care of her... he could have come home at midnight but instead he'd stayed at my house and gotten even more wasted. A shame, such a beautiful wife who had obviously prepared herself to get laid.

I looked again at the hand laid across her stomach. More like, the arm, as her hand was further down. I couldn't help but wonder if she was naked otherwise, and how I'd always dreamed not just of seeing her breasts, but seeing her naked. What if I just lifted the sheet? Pulled it back a bit...

I should have walked away.

I should have stepped back over to the light, turned it off, and let myself out. Instead, I reached down and gently lifted the edge of the sheet, pulling it further down her legs and exposing the rest of her body.

She wasn't naked as I'd imagined, but the sexy little see through panties that she had on hid nothing. I knew this because her hand, that I'd imagined just lying there, was inside her panties. Her fingers tips were about where her clit should be, and I realized that Lara must have masturbated herself to sleep.

For the first time, Lara moved. Her left hand, inside her panties, pulled out, moving up to her belly where it again came to rest. That her panties really didn't hide anything was now totally proven.

Lara's pussy lips were shaven, although she had a triangular patch of pubic hair above. That her fingers had been resting directly on her clit was also now proven. Unlike Suzie, whose clit hid behind a hood that was barely visible at the top of her slit, Lara's protruded above the edge just slightly. To pleasure my wife, I had to spread her labia, even pull the hood back a bit to get directly to her clit, whereas Lara's was plainly visible. Suzie had nipples that never hid, and a clit that never showed; Lara had nipples that never showed and a clit that never hid.

Oh Fuck. I just stood there admiring Lara's nearly naked body, my cock straining in my pant leg. I shouldn't be here, but I was. I shouldn't have touched her, but I did. I should just go home... instead I reached down and filled my hand with her breast once again, allowing my thumb to caress her nipple a second time.

This time, she moved. I stopped my thumb, afraid to withdraw my hand too fast, but at first it was just a rearranging of her body on the bed, followed by an "ummm" moan and her hand resting on her body suddenly lowered, slipped back inside her panties and her finger again rested on her clit. I realized it must have been a pleasant feeling as she again didn't move.

Slowly I lifted my hand from her breast, and kicking myself for taking such a chance, forced myself away. I thought about turning the light off and decided that it really didn't matter, and quietly walked back to the door, avoided the stair that had creaked when I'd helped Larry up, and let myself out. I made sure the back door was locked when I let myself out.