don_jetman
Moderator
Nosy Neighbor
by Don Jetman
L and I were surprisingly promoted within the same week at our workplaces.
Mine was to fill a vacancy created by a long-time colleague's retirement,
but L's was more mysterious, a merit promotion before annual reviews were
even started. That said, she deserved it, working through part of our
vacation on the road to complete a critical project before year's end.
It didn't hurt that her boss had always shown signs of attraction toward
her, but there was never an overt attempt by him to act on it. Did she
tease him a little now and then? Show a little cleavage after she
unbuttoned her suit jacket and leaned over the conference table?
Especially on days when she wore one of her clingy blouses that might
fall open a bit for others to sneak a peek? She admits she did. "The
younger guys are always looking," she told me, "but he's my father's age,
and for the longest time I assumed he liked me because I was like a daughter
to him. Eventually I realized it was something more. I'd catch him in the
mirror staring at my body as I walked away from him, and sometimes he'd
forget to look away when he stared at my breasts in meetings. He never
made a pass, and I thought it was kind of cute. It must have been
frustrating for him though. I began to wonder if I made him hard when he
watched me, and that made me wet."
Anyway, her promotion had her leading a different function in another
building on the campus - which is the real story.
My new position was just a step up in the pecking order managing former
peers, which carried its own difficulties, but there was a comfort zone
created by familiar surroundings and local corporate culture. L had a
completely new and much larger group of reports, ones she had never met.
Was her confidence ever shaken? Not that I could tell.
L works closely with an additional group in the same building, which
means she works closely with that group's manager, Frank. Initially there
were a few late nights and weekends spent at her workplace, usually with
Frank, planning goals and assigning projects for the new year. Although L
spoke highly of him at first, and then more often warmly of his friendly
style and soft-spoken manner, there was nothing sexual in the air at all
according to L. Of course I teased her about it every time she went on
about how great he was to work with. But I knew L well enough to at least
guess whether she was hot for a guy, and she just didn't show the signs.
Besides, she was always reluctant to play with people she worked with,
even though this time she was his equal and not a report. I knew he'd
become more than a coworker and friend when she finally told me in bed
one night that she'd like to fuck him. I told her she didn't need to ask,
but I was glad she did. She fucked him the following night, then she
invited him to dinner so I could get to know him. It was then I knew that
he wasn't to be one her her "one-and-done" lovers.
Frank's a stunning guy. I answered the door when he arrived, and had to
hide my surprise when I first saw him. The guy was a head taller than I,
and I wondered if he would have to duck slightly to get through the door.
I'm a head taller than L's five-foot-two inches, and I smiled a little
inside imagining how Frank and L would look side-by-side at work. She had
never mentioned his height.
I liked Frank immediately. His infectious smile was disarming, and his
sense of humor was as dry as my own. He was easy to talk to over dinner,
and wasn't afraid to lead the conversation after an awkward pause left
me wanting for words. We went to the living room for drinks after dessert,
and I let him pick music from my collection. I was impressed when he chose
my favorite Monk CD, and we found we had even more in common than I expected.
Predictably, L had had enough by the time the CD played out, and we
compromised with Robert Cray's easy blues. Then the doorbell...
Dee was our neighbor, a friendly, but nosy woman in her sixties who lost
her husband to a heart attack the year before. L invited her in and
offered her a glass of wine. Dee accepted and took a seat with us, but
kept staring at Frank as though she had never seen a six-foot-eight Black
man before. Maybe she hadn't, or at least hadn't been in the same room. She
wanted to gossip about the neighborhood with L, something she never tired
of. L never had the nerve to tell her we didn't care. I told her once, but
it didn't seem to register. I hesitate to paint Dee as just a busybody -
she did keep L company when I was on the road, and I know she was lonely.
But sometimes she just didn't know when to leave. This was one of those
times.
After an hour, I went to the kitchen to escape for a few minutes. I
poured two more scotches for Frank and me, and found L standing behind
me, waiting. I turned, ready to give her my 'can't-you-get-rid-of-her?'
frown, when I saw a sly smile grow at the corners of her mouth. I know
that smile. I was a little drunk, and L had just finished her second glass
of wine - one glass over her usual limit.
"You want him to stay, don't you?" I asked.
L nodded, smiling wider.
Just then Dee appeared behind L, in time to hear L answer, "If he
wants to..." Dee looked a bit surprised and was as flustered as Dee gets,
but all that passed in a seconds just as Dee asked me if I'd mind driving
her home. She lived just around the corner, but it was bitterly cold and
the sidewalks were icy. I enthusiastically agreed. Enthusiastically. Glad
to do it, Dee. Absolutely. Sometimes the stars do align in my favor. This
was one of those times.
When I apologized to Frank for leaving, he stood and began to make an
excuse to go as well. I urged him to stay a while, that I also had to run
back to work for something I forgot to bring home over the weekend. "It's
still early," I told him, "and we're really enjoying your company. Help
yourself to the scotch, and I'll be back in a little while." He seemed a
little puzzled, but sat back down and thanked me, agreeing the night was
'good times'. I kissed L on the cheek and whispered "Have fun," in her
ear. L glanced at Dee to see if she noticed, then gave me her wicked
little-girl smile and silently mouthed the words, "We will."
I drove around for a while after dropping Dee at her house. If things
went L's way, I doubted that she'd have to make an excuse for my delayed
return. When I got home an while later, the house was quiet, lights still
on, and our bedroom door was closed. Frank's car was still in the driveway.
Now this is typically the place in my recollections where I wax
philosophical, as you might know from my other accounts. God knows I had
all night to do it. I spent the night in one of our other bedrooms
(masturbating, of course), trying to imagine them together. He was
just so much taller than L, so different than any of her past lovers.
His body was athletic and very lean. He was so controlled, beautifully
graceful in the way he moved. Was he as graceful in bed with L? Did she
find herself lost in a tangle of those long arms and legs? Could he do
extraordinary things with his body, take her places no one had taken her
before? Was he big, everywhere? I knew L liked him. And I was glad he was
very likely pleasing her, probably as much or more than she had fantasized.
She had certainly kept her fantasy a secret, at least from me. But
anticipating her surprises is what I've come to love as L's hotwife husband.
Still, I think I'd be disappointed if L didn't offer up a few secrets
now and then. It's what she does best, and what I love most about her.
Frank was gone when I woke the next morning. L was showing her afterglow, as
usual, and offered as much detail as I wanted. "He was wonderful," she
told me. "Is he big? Well, maybe a little bigger than you, but hopefully
you'll get to see for yourself someday. We talked about that. He'd consider
it, maybe, after he gets to know you better."
We showered together, then fucked in the very same spot where Frank and L
had their fun. Later, I found a used condom and a nearly empty glass of
warm scotch by my side of the bed. I'm sure L had a part in arranging it.
Touche, sweetheart. Touche.
Don
by Don Jetman
L and I were surprisingly promoted within the same week at our workplaces.
Mine was to fill a vacancy created by a long-time colleague's retirement,
but L's was more mysterious, a merit promotion before annual reviews were
even started. That said, she deserved it, working through part of our
vacation on the road to complete a critical project before year's end.
It didn't hurt that her boss had always shown signs of attraction toward
her, but there was never an overt attempt by him to act on it. Did she
tease him a little now and then? Show a little cleavage after she
unbuttoned her suit jacket and leaned over the conference table?
Especially on days when she wore one of her clingy blouses that might
fall open a bit for others to sneak a peek? She admits she did. "The
younger guys are always looking," she told me, "but he's my father's age,
and for the longest time I assumed he liked me because I was like a daughter
to him. Eventually I realized it was something more. I'd catch him in the
mirror staring at my body as I walked away from him, and sometimes he'd
forget to look away when he stared at my breasts in meetings. He never
made a pass, and I thought it was kind of cute. It must have been
frustrating for him though. I began to wonder if I made him hard when he
watched me, and that made me wet."
Anyway, her promotion had her leading a different function in another
building on the campus - which is the real story.
My new position was just a step up in the pecking order managing former
peers, which carried its own difficulties, but there was a comfort zone
created by familiar surroundings and local corporate culture. L had a
completely new and much larger group of reports, ones she had never met.
Was her confidence ever shaken? Not that I could tell.
L works closely with an additional group in the same building, which
means she works closely with that group's manager, Frank. Initially there
were a few late nights and weekends spent at her workplace, usually with
Frank, planning goals and assigning projects for the new year. Although L
spoke highly of him at first, and then more often warmly of his friendly
style and soft-spoken manner, there was nothing sexual in the air at all
according to L. Of course I teased her about it every time she went on
about how great he was to work with. But I knew L well enough to at least
guess whether she was hot for a guy, and she just didn't show the signs.
Besides, she was always reluctant to play with people she worked with,
even though this time she was his equal and not a report. I knew he'd
become more than a coworker and friend when she finally told me in bed
one night that she'd like to fuck him. I told her she didn't need to ask,
but I was glad she did. She fucked him the following night, then she
invited him to dinner so I could get to know him. It was then I knew that
he wasn't to be one her her "one-and-done" lovers.
Frank's a stunning guy. I answered the door when he arrived, and had to
hide my surprise when I first saw him. The guy was a head taller than I,
and I wondered if he would have to duck slightly to get through the door.
I'm a head taller than L's five-foot-two inches, and I smiled a little
inside imagining how Frank and L would look side-by-side at work. She had
never mentioned his height.
I liked Frank immediately. His infectious smile was disarming, and his
sense of humor was as dry as my own. He was easy to talk to over dinner,
and wasn't afraid to lead the conversation after an awkward pause left
me wanting for words. We went to the living room for drinks after dessert,
and I let him pick music from my collection. I was impressed when he chose
my favorite Monk CD, and we found we had even more in common than I expected.
Predictably, L had had enough by the time the CD played out, and we
compromised with Robert Cray's easy blues. Then the doorbell...
Dee was our neighbor, a friendly, but nosy woman in her sixties who lost
her husband to a heart attack the year before. L invited her in and
offered her a glass of wine. Dee accepted and took a seat with us, but
kept staring at Frank as though she had never seen a six-foot-eight Black
man before. Maybe she hadn't, or at least hadn't been in the same room. She
wanted to gossip about the neighborhood with L, something she never tired
of. L never had the nerve to tell her we didn't care. I told her once, but
it didn't seem to register. I hesitate to paint Dee as just a busybody -
she did keep L company when I was on the road, and I know she was lonely.
But sometimes she just didn't know when to leave. This was one of those
times.
After an hour, I went to the kitchen to escape for a few minutes. I
poured two more scotches for Frank and me, and found L standing behind
me, waiting. I turned, ready to give her my 'can't-you-get-rid-of-her?'
frown, when I saw a sly smile grow at the corners of her mouth. I know
that smile. I was a little drunk, and L had just finished her second glass
of wine - one glass over her usual limit.
"You want him to stay, don't you?" I asked.
L nodded, smiling wider.
Just then Dee appeared behind L, in time to hear L answer, "If he
wants to..." Dee looked a bit surprised and was as flustered as Dee gets,
but all that passed in a seconds just as Dee asked me if I'd mind driving
her home. She lived just around the corner, but it was bitterly cold and
the sidewalks were icy. I enthusiastically agreed. Enthusiastically. Glad
to do it, Dee. Absolutely. Sometimes the stars do align in my favor. This
was one of those times.
When I apologized to Frank for leaving, he stood and began to make an
excuse to go as well. I urged him to stay a while, that I also had to run
back to work for something I forgot to bring home over the weekend. "It's
still early," I told him, "and we're really enjoying your company. Help
yourself to the scotch, and I'll be back in a little while." He seemed a
little puzzled, but sat back down and thanked me, agreeing the night was
'good times'. I kissed L on the cheek and whispered "Have fun," in her
ear. L glanced at Dee to see if she noticed, then gave me her wicked
little-girl smile and silently mouthed the words, "We will."
I drove around for a while after dropping Dee at her house. If things
went L's way, I doubted that she'd have to make an excuse for my delayed
return. When I got home an while later, the house was quiet, lights still
on, and our bedroom door was closed. Frank's car was still in the driveway.
Now this is typically the place in my recollections where I wax
philosophical, as you might know from my other accounts. God knows I had
all night to do it. I spent the night in one of our other bedrooms
(masturbating, of course), trying to imagine them together. He was
just so much taller than L, so different than any of her past lovers.
His body was athletic and very lean. He was so controlled, beautifully
graceful in the way he moved. Was he as graceful in bed with L? Did she
find herself lost in a tangle of those long arms and legs? Could he do
extraordinary things with his body, take her places no one had taken her
before? Was he big, everywhere? I knew L liked him. And I was glad he was
very likely pleasing her, probably as much or more than she had fantasized.
She had certainly kept her fantasy a secret, at least from me. But
anticipating her surprises is what I've come to love as L's hotwife husband.
Still, I think I'd be disappointed if L didn't offer up a few secrets
now and then. It's what she does best, and what I love most about her.
Frank was gone when I woke the next morning. L was showing her afterglow, as
usual, and offered as much detail as I wanted. "He was wonderful," she
told me. "Is he big? Well, maybe a little bigger than you, but hopefully
you'll get to see for yourself someday. We talked about that. He'd consider
it, maybe, after he gets to know you better."
We showered together, then fucked in the very same spot where Frank and L
had their fun. Later, I found a used condom and a nearly empty glass of
warm scotch by my side of the bed. I'm sure L had a part in arranging it.
Touche, sweetheart. Touche.
Don