Sara and I held each other in the pool upon completion of our getting to know one another on a more intimate level. The turbulent waters began to calm, and the soothing sounds of the backyard reappeared. Birds chirping. The rolling sounds of the waterfall. Leaves rustling in the summer breeze.
Sara noted that she should head home to take a shower.
“Well, you cannot very well go home looking like that.” I chortled.
Sara’s shorts and shirt were lying on the pool deck, thankfully still bone dry. I hopped out of the pool, my dick flopping around having spent its usefulness, and I grabbed Sara a towel. I lent her a hand to pull her from the pool and wrapped her up. After giving her a peck on the cheek, I handed the clothes to Sara, and she quickly dressed. She looked sexy as hell in her shirt with no bra underneath and knowing that she had no panties beneath her shorts was a real turn on.
“Since we are both alone this fine weekend, would you like to join me for dinner later tonight? I can throw some steak and shrimp on the grill.” I extended an invitation to Sara, hoping for some company to stave off another boring night of being alone. To say that other ulterior motives were involved would be an understatement.
Sara agreed to meet later, gathered her belongings, and headed home next door. She hoped that no one saw her walking with wet hair from my house as that would certainly arouse suspicion. Sara dropped her wet undergarments in the utility sink and went straight for the shower. Even though she had been in the pool, a small amount of cum leaked from her insides, making her crotch wet.
The shower was steaming hot and warmed Sara from the chill of the air. She ran her fingers through her hair thinking about what had just happened. Sara was no whore by any means, so why did she just have sex with her next-door neighbor? Although Sara was often seen as a bully, it was because she always wanted to be in control of her situation. Control meant elimination of the unknown. Elimination of the unknown meant safety. Sara just wanted to feel safe in her life. This likely stemmed from events in her childhood that are not appropriate for this story.
While Sara’s husband was kind, caring, and a solid provider, he was not what one would call and Alpha male. Throughout their entire relationship, it was Sara who dominated. It was Sara that ran the household. It was Sara that established their social circles. Sometimes she felt more like a mother than a wife with her husband acquiescing to her every whim. Why did he never stand up for himself?
She sighed when she acknowledged that her next-door neighbor Jake was right about her sex life with Alan. It sucked. On a schedule like clockwork. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am and then he fell asleep. Sara rarely came with Alan, so her vibrator had become a good friend.
Sara and Alan had been together since college, and time was beginning to chip away at her. She felt that life was beginning to pass her by. She was growing weary of always being in command. For once, she wanted to have no responsibilities. She wanted to be the one taken care of and not the other way around. These concerns and changes often come to many at this age. Some call it a mid-life crisis. Others call it a life change. It is nothing new. Sara still loved Alan, but she needed a change. The person she is today is not the same person that she was twenty years ago.
Sara turned off the shower and dried herself. Her mind raced with mixed emotions and was making her tired. She took a few pills to calm the ache in her head and laid upon the bed to take a much-needed nap.
After Sara headed home, I grabbed my shorts and got dressed. Believe it or not, I don’t typically walk around with my cock hanging about. I could not believe what had just happened between Sara and myself. It’s not like I woke up this morning planning to fuck my neighbor. Far from it. As a matter of fact, six hours ago, I couldn’t stand that bitch. It’s crazy how a few hours can change things.
I took a shower and dressed for the day. Having invited Sara over for dinner, I cleaned the house and began my prep. I took some New York strips from the fridge and seasoned them with my secret rub. I de-veined the shrimp, because seriously, who wants to eat shrimp shit? My famous arugula salad for an appetizer and the main course will be accompanied by steamed broccoli. I’ve watched a number of cooking shows and decided to give crème brulee a shot.
As the hours passed, I decided to purchase a pay-per-view UFC event. I could have it playing in the background as I cooked and occasionally look in when the crowd got loud. With the television offering a sympathetic distraction, I forged ahead with preparing dinner.
Sara and I agreed to meet at six o’clock, and I was eager to see her. In addition to having this pretty woman at my dinner table, I was genuinely curious if she would like my cooking. Fifteen minutes passed. No Sara. Thirty minutes had gone by, and I was still alone. At this point, I figured that my little pool escapade with Sara may just be a onetime fling and she was going to no show.
Seeing that I had a UFC pay-per-view event already purchased and dinner on the table, I called my buddies Steve and Jeff to hang out. There was no need for all of this to go to waste. If Sara was not going to come over, I was not going to let it ruin my night.
It was eight o’clock when Sara awoke from her deep slumber. She looked at the clock and said, “Oh shit!” Sara was supposed to be next door two hours ago and she was still lying in bed, her hair a mess. Sara sprang into action, put her hair into a ponytail, and threw on some makeup. She quickly dressed and ran out the door.
My boys Steve and Jeff were chilling on the couch, watching UFC, when the doorbell rang. I was surprised to see Sara standing in the doorway, out of breath.
Sara breathlessly said, “I am so sorry. I overslept! I guess I was worn out from earlier today.”
I was relieved to see Sara and smiled at her. “I thought that maybe I did something to make you mad. I am so happy you are here! Please, come in.”
In Sara’s haste to get next door, she did not notice the extra cars in the driveway. Sara entered the house expecting a quiet dinner with Jake and was surprised to see two men sitting on the couch in the living room.
I could see Sara’s surprise upon encountering a roomful of guys watching TV, so I made the necessary introductions. “Sara, this is Jeff and Steve. Guys, this is Sara, my next-door neighbor.” They exchanged pleasantries, and I informed Sara that when she failed to show, I invited the boys over to watch the fights.
Sara meekly noted, “No problem. I understand. I was the one who was over two hours late. I can come back another time. I don’t want to disrupt your night together.”
The boys protested her retreat and invited her to stay.
I supported their encouragement by telling Sara, “No, it’s fine, really. Please feel free to hang out with us. I wouldn’t want you sitting home alone in that big empty house.”
Dinner was a huge hit with the boys, but there were some leftovers. Unsurprisingly, the carnivores ate all the steak but left most of the arugula salad (go figure) and some of the shrimp. I prepared a plate for Sara, and she polished it off with ease. Having slept all day, she was famished. For the pièce de résistance, I brought out the crème brûlée and a bottle of champagne.
When the boys heard the champagne cork pop, they asked for a taste. I jokingly told them, “Fuck off you two. This bubbly and fine desert are for me and the lady.”
They grumbled a bit and hit the fridge for a few beers instead.
Sara and I sat alone at the dining room table, eating our dessert, and getting tipsy on champagne. After finishing off the bottle, we joined Jeff and Steve in the living room. The pile of beer cans on the floor proved the boys were enjoying their night as they watched men pummel the shit out of one another in the steel octagon.
Sara, being a bit buzzed from the champagne, began a playful back and forth with the boys by talking about the uncivilized savagery of UFC fighting.
Jeff retorted, “There is nothing better than watching two dudes beat the crap out of one another. What would you suggest we watch instead, figure skating?” Steve and Jeff yucked it up.
A bit miffed at their misogynistic comments, Sara noted, “Tennis is a much more refined sport that involves skill, strategy, and athleticism. UFC is just brute strength and landing a good blow.”
Steve smiled and loudly said, “I would like to land a good blow.” The boys in the room all started laughing hysterically.
The alcohol had released Sara’s inhibitions, and she could not let such another sexist comment go unchecked. With her inner-Karen beginning to rear its ugly head, Sara protested, “You would need someone who wanted to blow you for that to happen and if you had anyone, you surely would not be here, would you!”
Upon hearing this burn, Jeff and I looked at one another and bellowed with laughter. We both pointed at Steve and jointly said, “Oooh, burn motherfucker!”
Satisfied with her triumph, Sara smirked at Steve and turned to head back to the table. Steve could not help but to notice that although Sara could be a cold bitch, she did have a nice ass. He watched her saunter to the dining room table and the wheels began to turn in his head.
“Hey Sara, I know a game that involves both skill and strategy, just like your tennis. Only this one is better,” said Steve.
Sara rolled her eyes and replied, “What game is that, tying your shoes? I see that you failed that one as well.” Sara pointed at Steve’s shoe, which was, indeed, untied.
Jeff laughed so hard at this last insult that beer shot from his nose.
Steve’s face was red with embarrassment, and he could not believe that Queen Bitch had gotten the best of him yet again. Steve had a plan, however, to deal with this Karen. He was an excellent poker player and knew that he could get one of two results out of playing with Sara. Number one, she loses quickly and leaves. Number two, he gets a strip poker game going and has a chance to see her goods, if he is lucky. Either way, he wins.
“Yes, yes, another good one, missy. I am talking about poker. It’s a man’s game, so I wouldn’t expect you to know much about it.” Steve smiled wryly, feeling that he had the upper hand in this situation.
Sara was steamed by Steve’s latest dig. “A man’s game, huh? Look, you sexist pig…”
I grabbed Sara by the arm and pulled her back as I thought she was going to bite Steve’s head off. Sara composed herself and shook my hand from her arm. Little did anyone know, but Sara was no poker slouch herself, having played poker with her bunko club on many occasions. As usual, Sara would typically win these poker games with the ladies.
Feeling that she could play just as well as Steve, if not better, Sara said, “Challenge accepted, asshole.”
The boys all loved poker, and the room erupted with hoots and hollers when they heard that a game was on. I grabbed my poker gear and set up the table.
“Ok, $50 buy-in and to keep it simple we will play seven card stud.” I said as I doled out chips to everyone at the table. Of course, no poker game would be complete without booze, so I set that up as well. The guys wanted whiskey and I made Sara a gin & tonic.
After a few hands, it was apparent that Sara was quite skilled at poker. Between her and Steve, Jeff quickly lost his chips and was out of the game.
Being busted, Jeff stood from the table and said, “Well, looks like I am broke. I am going to head out before I do something stupid like pull out more money.”
Everyone said goodbye to Jeff, and the game continued. The pot went back and forth as the game went on. Whiskey and more gin & tonics kept spirits high. I hung with the card sharks for a while, but soon followed Jeff in losing all my chips.
“Looks like it is just you two remaining. A duel to the death!” I laughed and poured a few more drinks.
Being down to the last two people, these games went quickly. Before long, Steve’s superior poker playing wore Sara down, and she lost her last chip.
Steve raised his hands in triumph and proclaimed, “I am the champion! No offense, but no woman was ever going to beat me.” He tried to add insult to injury by winking at Sara.
Sara could not believe she had lost to this officious prick. She hated losing, but losing to this asshole took the cake. She thought about it for a second and devised a way to get back into the game. Sara reached under her shirt and removed her bra.
As Steve was celebrating, Sara interrupted him, saying, “Hey champ! I still have something to bet. The game is not over.”
Steve turned his attention to Sara to see what she was talking about. He was sure that she was out of chips, so how could the game continue?
When Steve scanned the table for any remaining chips Sara may have had, he finally saw her twirling her bra around her finger.
It was likely the alcohol talking in combination with her hatred of losing, but Sara decided to press on by noting, “I may be out of chips, but I would like to bet this.”
Steve grinned and said, “So you want to bet clothes now? I have a big stack of chips, and you don’t have too many items of clothing to lose.”
Sara was sure that she could win a few hands to get some chips back. Her pride and hubris blinded her from the possibility of losing. Without much thought, Sara said, “Let’s go.”
Sara won the next hand and collected a few chips. She felt that her plan was working. Unfortunately, the next few hands were a loss. With all her chips once again lost, she stepped into the bathroom and emerged with her panties in hand. She threw them on the table and pressed on with the game.
Sara was shocked when she lost the next hand. She could either admit defeat or remove another article of clothing. Losing another piece of clothing, however, would mean that she would be half-naked.
I touched Sara on the shoulder and said, “Hey Sara, why don’t you admit defeat? You don’t have anything to prove. You outlasted all the guys here except Steve, and he is an expert poker player.”
Sara had her hands on her shirt as if to take it off, but dropped them to her sides after my comment. She took a deep sigh, seemingly ready to admit that Steve was the winner.
Steve reveled in his victory and noted, “That’s right. You put up a good fight, but in the end, the male brain will always triumph. It’s just a fact of nature. Nature made us hunters, so we were given the better brains. Nature made you for reproducing, so your best assets were provided…elsewhere.” Steve made sure to slowly enunciate the last word and looked Sara up and down as he said this.
This infuriated Sara. “Fuck you, cocksucker!” Sara quickly grabbed her top, and it was soon sitting on the table in the pot. She put her left hand and arm over her exposed breasts to cover them as best she could. Playing cards with just one hand, she asked me for another gin and tonic. On top of the bottle of champagne she and I had at dinner, this must have been her fifth G&T of the night.
As the next hand was dealt, Steve’s internal dialogue menacingly lamented, “Yes, we will soon see who the cocksucker is little lady…” He looked at his hand and prepared for his next move.
Sara’s fortunes did not improve, and she quickly lost yet again.
Steve smiled and did not say a word. He stared at Sara and pointed to her shorts. “So, are you finished, or are we going to take this further?”
Sara was not used to losing, and this streak of bad luck was frustrating her beyond belief. Her frustration was exacerbated by the fact that she was losing to a misogynistic asshole. With the knowledge that her lower body would be covered by the table, Sara reached down with her free hand and pulled off her shorts. They were soon in the pot on the table. Sara now sat completely naked, trying to maintain any remnant of modesty by covering her bosom with one hand and hiding her pussy beneath the table. If not for the fact that she needed a free hand to hold her cards, she would have certainly used it to cover her neatly trimmed bush.