Dillon Court Neighbors Ch. 01byRomantic1©
Neighbors in four homes enjoy group sex
This is a three part story about a place the author lived for a while. The chapters will be posted on consecutive days. This is a slow build story. Chapter 1 is a warm up for the subsequent two chapters, but Mike and Maddy told me this was 'Way Hot.'
"Dory, Hello." Ellen Russert's cheerful voice caught my ear from next door.
I broke into a smile and walked to meet Ellen halfway between our homes; "It's rare to see you outside. I didn't think our schedules ever allowed us to be away from our computers at the same time." Although we lived next door to each other on a cul-de-sac, we rarely saw our neighbors; the only signs of life were the lights in the houses at night. I'm sure Ellen and her husband Jim felt the same way about us. I liked Ellen, and briefly wondered why I didn't go out of my way to spend more time with her; but I knew the answer, I was too wrapped up in my own work.
Ellen laughed, "Yeah, I know what you mean. I barely know anyone outside work." She gestured to the other three homes on the dead end circle besides her own, "I've resolved to fix that starting now. I just finished another manuscript and emailed it to my publisher. That'll keep them busy for a week or so. They're already pestering me for another."
Ellen was an author and worked from home. I asked, "What's this one about? Another torrid bodice ripper?"
Ellen laughed, "In a word, 'yes;' same as the others generally. In this one, the horses pulling a young maiden's carriage get spooked, and take off running. A rogue sees her plight and saves her life. She steels herself to resist this hunky guy who she is sure is from the wrong side of town. He disappears, but she's smitten; they meet again at a formal ball, dance and make out, and in the end the pair fall madly in love. After much foreplay, they screw their brains out and live happily ever after to the delight of all. Oh, he turns out to be a handsome earl worth millions. The tentative title is 'Runaway Passions. '"
I laughed, "Sounds like a winner. I'll buy this one too. I've loved all your other books. They turn me on. I admire that you can build up the sexual tension from page one right to the end."
Ellen chortled, "Just remember, the author's name is Emily Roberts not mine. I use the nom de plume so I can have a semblance of a normal life here in Massachusetts. The fictitious Emily lives in California according to her bio on the back of my books. It is my picture though."
I said, "Hey, if you just achieved a milestone of some kind and you wanted to get to know the neighbors better, why don't you and Jim come to dinner and celebrate your book? I'll call Mike to get him home at a decent hour."
"Yes, we'd love to. Jim promised to be home from MGH early today." Ellen's husband, Jim Russert, split his time between Massachusetts General Hospital and sitting in front of a computer in his home office. A radiologist, he could decipher x-rays, CT scans, MRIs, and a host of other data that ended digitized and available anywhere in the world. He did work for several rural hospitals far from Boston that couldn't afford a full time radiologist on the payroll. The idea of working in a warmer climate without snow had started to hold increasing appeal to the mid-forties 'hot' doctor.
To my delight, Mike arrived home earlier than usual from his job as an up and coming lawyer at a prestigious Boston law firm. Working to achieve junior partner was taxing his patience, requiring long hours. The long hours didn't keep the athletic thirty-five-year old from a heavy exercise regime that left him trim and muscular even if it meant he had to run and workout in the dawn hours. At his firm, he was a favorite of some women clients valuing his estate management expertise and no doubt his physique and demeanor. He was my favorite husband too, and I told him so frequently; married ten years, we were still madly in love.
As Mike came in from the garage, I said, "Go change clothes. No pin stripes for dinner. Jim and Ellen from next door are due any second. You're cooking steaks on the grill ... and before you go, kiss me."
After a solid smooch, Mike took the stairs two at a time undoing his shirt and tie as he went. A few minutes later, he appeared in the kitchen in shorts and a golf shirt. We kissed for the second time since he got home. He had the nicest pair of lips.
I was putting some icing on cupcakes I'd made for dessert. It seemed natural to offer him a finger of the chocolate spread. It seemed even more natural to put a significant smear of the icing across his upper lip to make a chocolate mustache, so with a giggle he got a broad smear that extended from cheek to cheek.
"Hey, do I get to choose where I put the icing on you? I have a few places where I would love to lick and lick." When Mike wasn't wrapped up in work, he was perpetually horny. He was always ready for a romp in the sack if he could coax me away from whatever I was immersed in. He was a very successful coaxer.
'Ding dong.' The front doorbell sounded.
We both walked down the hall to the foyer. I opened to door. Jim and Ellen were there with hands full of food and a couple of wine bottles. Amid greetings and laughter, I welcomed them into the house.
Ellen handed me a large salad bowl and exclaimed with a laugh and glance to be sure I approved, "I just have to kiss your husband. Excuse me."
With that, Ellen pulled Mike into an embrace, and I watched her tongue lash out not only into his mouth, but also across his chocolate covered face. Mike looked pleased and kissed back when he could redirect her tongue to his mouth instead of his upper lip. As the pair got into it, their arms intertwined and their bodies met as their kisses intensified. There was a certain amount of giggling going on despite their ages.
Jim set down two bottles of wine, and said to me, "Well, do you mind if I say hello to my good neighbor the same way although you're not covered in delicious icing?"
I laughed and allowed Jim to pull me into an embrace and a series of kisses that resulted in a passion-laden dip where he lowered me nearly to the floor, holding onto me tightly as we kissed. I felt just the tip of his tongue before we stopped, and made sure he felt mine in return. He kissed nicely. Before he pulled away, I pulled him back for a repeat performance.
Mike and Ellen laughed as they watched our awkward recovery for our exhibitionist kisses.
Ellen said, "Now, THAT's the way good neighbors should always greet each other."
I laughed and said, "But we forgot the other people combinations." I walked up to Ellen, and as our eyes met she guessed what would follow. I pulled her into a passionate kiss, and our hands started to meander around our sides and backs as we carried the kiss on for a full minute much to the delight of Mike and Jim. Even seconds into the kiss, I could feel the sexual tension between us; conservative but sexy Ellen was blowing my socks off with a Sapphic kiss that had some real significance behind it.
When we stopped, Ellen and I were panting. I said, "That's hot. You guys are hot."
Mike said with a laugh, "I am NOT kissing Jim. I don't go that way." He put out his hand, and the two men shook hands as they laughed. Both men gave us sidelong glances with lecherous grins. Jim agreed and felt the same way as Mike. Ellen and I had turned them on.
After drinks were served, Mike disappeared to fire up the grill. Ellen, Jim, and I were in the kitchen as I worked on the last of the meal.
Ellen spied the cupcakes and icing. She laughed, "Hey, maybe I should take some icing and put it back on Mike's upper lip. He tasted good."
I laughed. "Go for it. Kiss him a few times for me too. You're nice to kiss; I know he won't mind, and I don't either." I had briefly pondered the thought about Ellen making out with my husband. The idea excited me more than anything, and I knew it would throw Mike off balance when another woman came onto him. Just to keep the score a little even, I added, "I may invite Jim for a repeat performance too."
Jim's head jerked around to check in with me about my sincerity. His next glance was to Ellen, but she just smiled at him. Ellen reached into the container of icing and took out a finger full of the dark chocolate. She grinned at us and headed out the door to our patio. Over her shoulder, she said, "Have fun, you two."
Jim stood and came around to me so we could both look out the kitchen window to where Mike stood next to the smoking grill.
Ellen walked up to Mike. We couldn't hear the words, but she slowly smeared her finger's worth of the rich cream across his cheeks and lips, and then she sucked on her finger in a lewd gesture suggesting a blowjob of epic proportions.
Jim said, "She loves to tease."
I allowed, "Mike will call her bluff if given half a chance."
Ellen came inside Mike's arms, and the pair kissed again. Between kisses, we could slowly see the brownish smears of chocolate disappearing from Mike's face, some of the chocolate spreading to Ellen's cheeks. That said, the pair was spending more time kissing than cleaning up chocolate.
I turned to Jim, and he held his arms out to me. I was inside them instantly, with my lips on his warm, soft, sensuous lips that kissed me so tenderly this time. There were no games between us now -- no silly dips or theatrics to show off to the others. We moved into the kiss with some latent desire, and our arms wrapped around each other.
After a few minutes of our kissing, Jim and I broke apart. I glanced out the window to where Mike and Ellen were still enjoying their embraces.
I rapped on the window and pointed at the grill. Mike got the message, and flew into action, pulling the steaks off the sizzling grill. He and Ellen were laughing at how they'd gotten carried away. I think I liked 'carried away' too; kissing Jim had really made my evening special.
Despite the slightly overcooked meat, dinner went well and we had a fun talking with the Russerts. At the end of the evening, we bid them goodnight at our door, ending with another round of kisses that were so enjoyable we all regretted stopping in the name of propriety.
After some clean up and put away, Mike and I were soon in bed together and in each other's arms.
I kissed Mike passionately; "So, did you like making out with Ellen?"
"Hell, yes. I'm surprised you didn't react more. I was glad you kissed Jim that way too; it mitigated my guilt."
"I did like it. I hope we do a little more of it the next time we're together, and don't worry I'm not going to lay a guilt trip on you for stuff like that."
Mike said, "Err, you should know that Ellen took my hand and put it over one of her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra, and I could feel the swell of her breast and her nipple through the material."
I smiled, "Oh, goody. I bet you liked that a lot. So you're extra horny by now, right?"
"Well, you better come and unveil my breasts, suck on them, eat my pussy, and then make love to me because I'm horny too." As an afterthought I added, "Maybe the next time, I'll let Jim cop a feel too."
Being horny seriously understated the way I felt after our dinner with the Russerts next door. The kissing with someone other than Mike had set off my imagination, and I took things to extremes in my dreams and daydreams. I suspected Mike was having similar thoughts.
Working on the computer, I took breaks and visited a couple of porn sites searching for foursomes and watching the couples fuck side by side in various overdone and underacted situations. I also checked out some lesbian interactions. The falseness of the acting didn't deter me from jilling off to the scenes and thinking about what it would be like.
Mike benefitted from my renewed zest for sex, or was it the other way around. Either way, we returned to a state in our marriage where we jumped each other's bones every night, and over the weekends Mike proved to me he had the same stamina and recovery ability he'd had in college when we'd met and fucked our brains out.
Ellen called and invited Mike and me to dinner again on the following Saturday. All her invitation did was fire me up further. That said, I expected that she and Jim would have had second thoughts, and would be especially reserved and not want to kiss at the coming dinner. My fantasy world and reality were often miles apart, and I had to remind myself of that fact daily to avoid disappointment.
Far from the modest expectations I'd talked myself into, as we arrived next door with our part of the meal, Jim pulled me into a passionate embrace, and we started some significant kisses. I was into Jim in a big way by then, my fantasy world building him up as an Adonis in my life.
We would have been making out in the doorway, except Mike and Ellen were there making out and swapping French kisses as they ground their hips together so Jim and I had to move into the foyer. Despite Ellen being about ten-years older than Mike, the two looked as though they were made for each other and that they'd been a loving pair for years.
We spent about ten minutes in the foyer and entry making out with our host and hostess. I didn't even worry about anyone seeing us; our street had almost no traffic being a cul-de-sac. I couldn't help notice that Ellen took Mike's hand and openly pulled it to her chest, inviting him to further feel her up. I also watched her hand at one point drop and run it along the front of Mike's jeans. The pair had clearly passed first base and was headed to second at a run. Those interactions didn't make me jealous; instead, they fired up my arousal and desire for similar interactions with Jim.
Without a second thought other than my own desire, I pulled Jim's hand to my breasts. As we French kissed, he massaged my taut breasts through the material of my shirt and a thin bra, bringing my left nipple to a state of high excitement. When I pushed my groin into his, I could tell he was an excited man.
After a timer in the kitchen chimed, Ellen pulled away from Mike and in a voice tinged with regret announced, "We can do more of this later. If we don't stop now, we'll spend all weekend here -- and I'd like to. We have good wine, a great meal, and good company." She led us all through the house and to their back patio and screened in deck. Like ours, the back of their house faced state forestland and a pretty view of a small river and thick trees beyond. Jim held my hand and led me to the patio behind the other two. Dinner was ready.
Dinner and our conversation flew by. Afterwards, I helped Ellen clear away the last of the dinner dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. Jim and Mike sat outside talking in the light from a Tiki torch on a corner of the deck.
I turned to Ellen and shyly asked, "Did you like it when we kissed two weeks ago?" I tried to sound upbeat and enthusiastic about what I'd felt after our Sapphic kiss. I had just subtly admitted that kissing her turned me on as much as kissing Jim.
Ellen didn't say anything. She merely turned into me, and we embraced each other and started to kiss ... and those kisses became French kisses, and Ellen tasted really good, and I liked kissing her and tonguing with her. Soon, our midsections were tight against each other.
Ellen took the initiative and brought her hand to my breast. I more than welcomed the approach and pushed my chest into her hand hoping that she would find my nipple. Ellen knew what she was doing; she made my sexual temperature rise ten thousand degrees. I couldn't resist feeling Ellen; I brought my hand up to her breast -- the first breast I'd felt in over twelve years since some experimentation in college before I married Mike.
Ellen wormed her hand under my blouse and then under my bra. There was something especially erotic about having a bare hand other than my husband's cup my bare breast, even under the tightness of my bra. As we continued to kiss, I snaked my hand under Ellen's colorful top; she wasn't wearing a bra, and I easily fondled both of her breasts as I ran my tongue into her mouth.
A shout from the back deck shattered the moment for the two of us. "Ladies, please bring two beers when you come back."
Ellen and I withdrew our hands, pecked at each other's lips, broke apart, and then each of us got a guilty look on our face.
I whispered, "I'll take the beers out to the guys."
Nothing else happened that night other than a long goodbye including some passionate kisses at their front door as we departed for the short walk next door.
Just as we got to the end of the driveway and started to circle the cul-de-sac to our home, a figure emerged from the darkness with a flashlight that suddenly clicked on. "Hi there, Franklins. Don't let me scare you. It's Sara Knight, and I'm out walking Max." Sara, who lived on the other side of the Russerts, was a divorced single mother with a six-year-old named Rachel who was chatty and a delight to have as a young neighbor. Rachel would start the first grade at the end of the summer.
We both paused and greeted Sara by the Russert's mailbox. I bent down and patted Max, a small Australian Shepherd. We stood in the relative darkness, our eyes adjusting to the limited light. When my eyes adjusted to the night I looked back at the Russert's home; their single yard light made everything around the front door so clearly visible.
We bid Sara good night, and walked up our own driveway to our front door. As we went inside, I speculated to Mike, "You don't suppose Sara saw us saying goodnight to Jim and Ellen do you? We were pretty wrapped up in each other."
Mike nodded, "Maybe. She seemed cordial enough. Sara wouldn't have said anything anyway. After all, she's the one eligible female on the circle, so I'm sure she's dating and going out, and probably the last to want to throw any stones around."
I chuckled, "No, I don't think she's the only person dating and going out on the circle. We have two young adults -- the Winslow's kids, plus I think Eric and Liz allow each other discrete little flings on the side."
Mike turned and asked, "Now, how the heck do you know that?"
I responded, "I don't get out much, but a month ago I was stopped at a traffic light, and I saw Eric escorting a pretty woman about my age into La Grenouille -- that adorable romantic restaurant near the shopping mall. It was late, the lunch crowd had left, and from the way he and the blond were touching each other and holding hands; I don't think it was a business lunch."
Mike shook his head, "And Liz?"
"I was sitting in the living room reading my iPad when I noticed a real hunk of a guy, about forty, get out of a Porsche in front of their house. He was in a suit and tie. She welcomed him inside with kisses like we just shared with the Russerts. Two hours later, he leaves carrying his coat and tie. Hunk and Liz have another fiery kiss at the door before he departs."
Mike shrugged, "There are innocent explanations for those situations. Eric does high-end financial portfolio management; of course, he's going to take his clients to lunch on their schedule, and he's going to be hyper attentive to them too. As for Liz, remember she has a studio in her house as well as in that loft downtown; she was probably doing a whole series of portraits for some business executive who was also a friend." As an afterthought, Mike added, "Just so you know; I've always liked them since we met. I'd like to do more with them as neighbors too."
I shrugged, but I did wonder if Sara had seen anything when we were putting a little extra effort into kissing the Russerts goodnight.