Two Couple's Suspicions

All of my writing is fiction, and the stories and characters are all products of my imagination. They were created for my fun and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Some of the events in the stories are not particularly condoned nor encouraged by the author but are there to create and enhance the story of the imaginary characters and their lives. Comments are always encouraged and carefully reviewed. All characters within the story that need to be are 18 years of age or older. I hope you enjoy! And take a second to vote and comment.

This story is hopefully the first of a series about a small neighborhood, Conestoga Court, eight homes around a semi-circular court, and the perils and adventures that take place there. There are six couples, five of them married and one pair living together, and a single man and single woman. Hope they turn out to be enjoyable.

"Football games on today, honey?" Adel asked as she bent to stack the lunch dishes in the dishwasher.

"Baseball today," he replied, shaking his head. She had no clue. He gave her a hard smack on the butt extended toward him. It was nearly as alluring as the two giant breasts hanging unfettered in her blouse. It was half playful and half something else.

Adel squealed. "Ouch," she said. "That was kind of hard."

"Sorry," he apologized as she went back to stacking the dishes.

It hadn't always been that way. Married eight years ago, she knew every detail of what was on TV and what game he might want to watch. That was eight years ago. Then, she would have responded to the smack by grabbing his crotch and making him suffer a little. Somewhere between then and now, it seemed the fire had cooled a little, although sex with his big-breasted wife was still satisfying, and he wasn't sure what he was looking for.

"I'm meeting Sally for lunch and then some shopping. I should be home in time for dinner." A typical Saturday for Adel. Typical, at least for the last month or two.

She and her sister often "went shopping." A couple of times, Carsten had checked with his brother-in-law and found that Sally had not gone shopping and was at home. On a hunch, he'd gone to their bedroom and checked her jewelry box. In the third drawer he opened, he'd found her wedding ring. It made him wonder.

Somehow he'd survived the seven-year-itch, but apparently, she hadn't. Or at least that's what Carsten was thinking. He still loved her, but that love was being nipped at by what he imagined she was up to. When you leave your wedding ring at home, it doesn't take much imagining.

"If you need anything, I have my cell phone, but it will be in my purse, and sometimes I can't hear it ring. I'll try to check every-so-often. We'll probably be a little late." She gave him a quick kiss and headed out the back door. He heard the car start and back out of the driveway. She hadn't wanted a cell phone before, but two or three months ago, she'd gotten one of those grocery store phones that you restock with minutes periodically.

The rest of the day to kill, somehow.

He went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer, then rummaged through the cabinet till he found the sack of pretzel sticks, grabbing three of them. He choked on his first bite of pretzel and downed a big gulp of beer to stifle the choking. Since it was a warm and sunny day, he headed out the back door and, from the porch, spotted Fiona Vincent in the yard next door. The Vincents had moved in fairly recently, and Fiona's beautiful red hair fit right into his fetish. Well, he loved red hair, and some said it was a fetish if it went too far. He'd always wondered how far that would be.

"Hey, Fiona," he called, waving.

"Hi, Carsten," was her smiling reply as she turned and headed his direction.

He looked around. "Where's the old man?"

"Fishing," she answered, still heading toward him.

"Want a beer?"

"Sure," she said, "and a pretzel too, if you have more," she added, eying the two still left in his hand. "I'm greedy if you haven't guessed," she laughed.

Quickly back inside, Carsten had another beer and the sack of pretzels. If she was greedy, he was willing to feed the greed.

"So, Barrett likes to fish?" he asked, handing her the beer and offering pretzels.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Shit, yes. I hate it. I used to go with him, but, you know, after a while, it gets to stinking, and it's fucking boring the whole time, so now I just stay home and ... whatever." She took a long swig of her beer, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Good," she said, smiling at him and tossing her red hair.

Carsten was trying to get a good look at Fiona, but it was difficult since she always wore baggy clothing and dresses. He had guessed what might be hiding under all those layers and folds but was more than anxious to confirm his guesses.

Karma was smiling on him.

"Adel around?" Fiona asked, looking toward the house.

"Shopping with her sister," he answered, chomping off a piece of pretzel and washing it down with beer.

"Listen," she said, gesturing toward her yard. "The swimming pool is repaired and is working well if you're interested."

Hell yes, he was interested if it would get Fiona in a bathing suit.

"Oh, hell yes," he said enthusiastically. "Sounds great."

"To me too. "Let's change and get out there. I'll bring the beer this time."

This might be working out better than he could have planned it. In the house, he undressed and pulled on his only pair of bathing trunks. Adel teased him about a tiny spare tire he was developing, and he worked to suck it in as he checked the results in the mirror. Not bad, he decided. He could suck it up until they were in the water, where he'd be able to relax. Maybe a T-shirt would help. He had an old Ohio U shirt, and he put it on. No good since it was skin-tight. Finally deciding a towel would have to do, he headed back outside.

He was sitting on the edge of the pool, his feet splashing in the water when he heard footsteps behind him. Suddenly hands were over his eyes.

"Guess who," she said.

Carsten laughed. "It better be Fiona."

"Good guess," she said, sitting beside him, feet in the water.

He'd never seen her from this close, and he took in the hair, the green eyes, the surprising lack of freckles ... and the full red lips smiling at him.

"Water is amazingly warm," he said, splashing a little on her legs, which gave him a chance to check them out. Fiona was not tall and slender nor short and fat. She was nicely in the middle of both of those. He could see her tight waist and a pair of breasts that filled the suit to the fullest. He decided she was better than his guessing had been.

"We had the heater repaired too, and I guess it's done a good job." She slid off the edge into the waist-deep water. "Nice and warm," she said, gesturing for Carsten to join her.

Not needing much encouragement, he jumped in, splashing water in her face.

"Carsten," she giggled, throwing water in his face.

Now the battle was on, arms flailing, water flying, lots of sputtering and laughing until Carsten launched himself at Fiona, hands on her head, pushing her under the water. She came up gasping, and before he could apologize, she was on top of him, her breasts in his face, and he was going down. His feet were off the pool floor, and he was floundering, Fiona holding his head and not relenting. He threw his arms around her, struggling to get to his feet, and finally stood, lifting her out of the water, her arms still around his head, his face buried in her cleavage.

He let go of her, and she slid slowly down the front of him.

"I'm pretty tough, aren't I," she said. "You can't bully me."

Right at the moment, with her face six inches from his, bullying was the furthest thing from his mind. He took a step backward, wondering if she'd felt the bulge that had quickly formed in his bathing suit.

The playful look on her face gave him no answer.

"You ever skinny dip," she asked suddenly, biting her lower lip.

The biting let him know it wasn't a question about past experiences. His bathing suit was suddenly even tighter and more uncomfortable.

"You need more beer to answer?" she teased quickly.

"When I was in college," he said. "Who didn't?"

"Me," she answered. The innocent look on her face was not what he expected.

He saw the red hair, wet and clinging to her cheeks, the smooth complexion highlighted by the sun, the drops of water meandering their way down the fullness of her breasts, her green eyes locked with his.

"I don't know," she continued. "You're here, Adel and Barrett are gone, the Riddell's next door are on vacation, and the pool is warm and inviting us to be daring, don't you think?"

She had a point. Everything was lined up perfectly. It was an invitation he couldn't have dreamed up earlier. Adel's wedding ring in the jewel box upstairs decided for him.

"I'm game if you are," he replied softly.

"I've always wanted to be a little nasty, kinky, or something like that. And to be that way with someone who's also being that way makes it doubly exciting."

They were looking at each other, waiting for a first move from someone.

"I'm a nickname person," Fiona ventured. "Carsten is too long but, since your last name is Fisher and Barrett is off fishing, I'm going to call you Fish, and when I say it, this will be our little secret." She giggled. "So, Fish. What do we do now?"

Fish wanted no changing of minds here, specifically Fiona's mind, so he reached under the water, untied his suit, and took it off. He tossed it out of the pool.

"Oh my gosh," she said, shifting her eyes to the rippling surface of the water. "So, your naked junk is right down there?" She pointed.

"Yes, hidden until ..."

"But if I take my suit off, you'll be able to see some of my, um, goodies." The teasing tone of her voice was compelling, as was the thought of seeing her goodies.

"That's the plan," he answered, anxious for that to happen.

"But no touching," she added. "That could get us in trouble."

He smiled at that. If she thought that touching could lead to more, then she wasn't rejecting the idea of "more." He wasn't quite ready for that yet, but he'd learned not to burn his bridges.

She slipped the straps of her suit off her shoulders, and they tumbled down her arms, the top of the suit staying in place.

"That's all skinny dipping is really about, you know. Seeing each other naked. Being in the water just makes it seem legitimate. And being 'daring' makes it more permissible."

It was difficult to disagree with that, particularly with Fiona about to shed her suit. He was nearly ready to tell her to get on with it; he was so anxious to see the breasts that were about to escape their confinement.

Fiona was obviously enjoying tormenting her next-door neighbor as the top of her suit was lowering very slowly. At last, one nipple was exposed, then the second. She bent over, and the suit was off and tossed out of the pool.

"You're seein', but I'm not," she giggled.

She began walking toward the shallower water, Carsten right behind. When she was knee-deep, she turned and faced him.

Carsten took a deep breath. She was way more than he had imagined. Large breasts with pale nipples, narrow waist, and broad hips along with legs much more shapely than he expected. The big smile, green eyes, and wet red hair were affecting his breathing.

Of course, Fiona's eyes were busy checking on Carsten's junk. The big smile said she approved.

"Haven't seen too many of those," she said, a seductive look on her face." Almost instinctively, she changed the subject. "We need more beer," she quipped and headed for deeper water and their abandoned six-pack of beer.

Carsten knew they'd agree to no touching, but watching her twitching butt disappearing into the deeper water was making it very difficult to maintain that restriction. When they were back to the deeper water, each took a swallow of beer.

"We need more," she said, climbing out of the pool and heading toward the house. During her climb, he'd gotten a good view of that secret place, not so secret now. Thinking about it as she walked toward the house, he decided she hadn't made any effort to maintain her modesty and made note of that for possible future use.

Carsten watched her, wondering if he had fallen asleep and was dreaming. This was beyond reality. The big question was, what comes next? Fiona coming back with more beer was the answer to that. She bent and handed him his, her breasts dangling in front of his face. She straightened and opened her can, standing on the edge of the pool directly above him. He looked up directly at her very puffy labia, clearly visible through the fuzzy reddish muff that barely concealed them. Again, no attempt at modesty.

He looked away quickly, feeling himself reacting under the water. Thankfully, she sat down, then slipped into the water.

"This is weird, isn't it?" she asked with a giggle. "I mean, us in the pool together, naked."

"And not touching," Carsten added.

"But still teasing," she said, throwing a handful of water in his face.

Immediately a spray of water came in her direction.

More splashing and Carsten's hands were on her head, dunking her once more. The "no touching rule" seemed to apply to only certain parts of the anatomy. Her arms were flailing as she grabbed him, pulling his head under with hers.

When they finally surfaced, Carsten had inhaled a little water and was coughing. Almost instantly, Fiona's hands were on his head, pushing him under again, his face buried once again in her cleavage, this time sputtering as the coughing hadn't subsided.. Her body was full length against his, her leg pressed against his erection. He was struggling, finally rolling her over, his feet finding the pool floor. Now he was coughing even harder, struggling to catch his breath.

"That was cruel," he sputtered, wiping the water from his eyes.

"I kind of enjoyed it," she countered, stepping away from him slightly. "While you recover, I'm going to round up the beer. Stupid cans roll away if you're not careful."

Carsten had recovered enough to watch her bounce up onto the side of the pool. He did enjoy watching her breasts bouncing as she walked around gathering up the errant cans. He stayed in the water, transfixed by the sight of her ass swinging from side to side along with the swaying breasts. She returned, the red triangle whose point disappeared between her legs holding his eyes as she approached the edge.

Fiona sat down very gracefully and directly opposite where Carsten was standing. Her feet dangled in the water, but she had neglected to pull her legs together, and it was apparent to him now where the point of the reddish triangle ended. She seemed very nonchalant about it, though.

"Looks like you've recovered," she said, offering him a beer from the six-pack. As she took one for herself, Carsten pressed his against her thigh.

"Oh, shit, that's cold," she squealed, jerking that thigh away, which only spread her legs further. Nothing much left to his imagination as he couldn't keep from staring.

But Fiona wasn't through. With a big smile, she leaned back and retrieved a pretzel stick from the bag. Her lips puckered around it as her eyelids lowered. Very slowly, the pretzel made its way into her mouth. Carsten was amazed at how much disappeared. She allowed it to slide back out and then in again, closing her eyes as she did. With pursed lips, she slid it in and out again, her eyes on Carsten this time.

A half-smile from him as he asked, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm sucking the salt off," she said seductively, emphasizing the one word.

His erection, which had drooped a bit during her trip to retrieve the beer, was now at full-hard again.

More than before, he was wondering where this was heading. He was certainly ready for more, at least physically, but was working hard to decide if she was just a huge tease and was getting her rocks off by tormenting him. If that's what she wanted, he was at the point of being willing to help. Wherever they were heading, he was enjoying the trip, the first time he had been raunchy like this for years.

Now though, the pretzel was out of her mouth, and she was extending it toward him.

"You want to suck some salt too," she said, barely above a whisper.

Carsten smiled. "Maybe I'll just lick it off if you'll hold it there for me."

"Oh, yes," she said and held the pretzel in front of his face. "Is this okay?" she asked, sliding her hand down the pretzel till just the nub on the end was still visible.

"Perfect," he said, extending his tongue and carefully licking the nub. A few more flicks with the tongue, and his lips surrounded the nub, and he sucked, allowing his lips to caress her fingers too.

"Ooohh," she cooed. You are good at that."

"Never had a pretzel complain," he replied, loosening his lip lock on the nub.

"I bet."

"You looked like an expert as well," Carsten said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I have lots of experience sucking salt," she said with a very throaty voice, her still-parted legs in front of his face. How far was she going to go? How far was she willing to go? Too many questions.

"When will Adel get home?" she questioned, dampening his enthusiasm.

"Late, she said, but I don't know." He wasn't in the mood to talk about Adel.

"Barrett, too," Fiona frowned. She bit her lower lip, looking hard at Carsten. "I'm not sure he'll be coming home from fishing, though."

Carsten's eyes widened. Did he want to go there? If he wanted to end up where he was hoping he might, this could be the path to take. He might even have something to add.

"I thought he was fishing."

"It's what he says, and sometimes he comes home with a fish. The other times there's no smell, and that's fishy." She said the last part with a tiny giggle.

"So, you're suspicious?"

"The seven-year-itch, you know."

"Does he leave his wedding ring at home when he fishes?"

"He's never worn one. Why?"

"Adel leaves hers in the jewelry box when she goes shopping.

They were looking at each other, minds whirring.

"You don't suppose ..." she said, tentatively.

"That would be bizarre," was his reply.

She thought a second. "No more so than what we're doing."

"I suppose not." He knew he was enjoying what he was doing and wondered if Adel was having equal enjoyment.

Fiona's thoughts were very similar.

She pushed herself off the side and splashed into the water, ready for more.

"Remember," she reminded him. "No touching."

"When we dunk each other, we've kind of been touching," he countered, smiling suggestively at her.

"That's incidental touching. Touching with the hands is what I'm talking about."

"How about the lips, or maybe something else?"

"Fish, what are you suggesting?"

"It was a question, not a suggestion."

"Bull shit. I know a suggestion when I hear it."

He put his hands on top of her head. "One more time?"

"If you have to ask, then —"

Too late as her head was under the water again. Conscious of the "no hands" rule, he locked his hands in her hair as he did his imitation of the crocodile-roll with her. Legs tangled, knees banged, bodies rubbed together in the warm water. After long seconds, Carsten was able to get his feet down and lift Fiona out of the water by her hair.

"I thought you were trying to drown me," she sputtered, the red hair covering her face.

He laughed. "No way. Having too much fun for that."

"Me too," she replied, gathering her hair to the back of her head. "Is all skinny dipping like this?"

"I'm not an expert, but it's never been like this for me before."

"One more," he heard as her hands were on his head again and, as he opened his mouth for a last desperate breath, it was blocked by a breast that covered his lips as he felt her legs scissoring around him. His tongue caressed a very hard nipple as he let her have her way with him. More flicking of his tongue, and finally, he struggled to stand, her legs still locked around him, her breast against his mouth.