Our entire block had lost power for the third time that week. There had been terrible storms, and almost everyone was inside or at work. The power company had failed to revive the city's power, so I spent the last Monday of my summer vacation at home looking out at the rain and watching bad daytime television in the back room of my parent's house, eating pizza rolls.

At around 11:15 in the morning I heard a knock on the door. My house, a Ranch with a bay window, doesn't allow one to look out its front windows without being spotted from the front porch; I was forced to open the door and have a conversation with whoever was on the other side.

'Let's make this quick,' I thought to myself, as I unlocked the door and swung it open.

"Hi, Scott!" said Linda, with a sunny smile on her face.

"Oh, Hi," I let out, not really sure what to say to my neighbor of ten years, the Milf with three kids who I'd had a secret crush on since the day they moved in. The woman was completely radiant, a rare beauty of thirty-two years that stood out even on this rainy day.

"Sorry to bother you," she said, with the same smile, "but I was baking cookies and I don't have any butter."

"I-we-I think we have some, lemme look," I said as I turned and walked inside. "You can come in if you want," I said as she followed me in anyway.

"Thanks for your help. The kids are at school and Steve's at work, and I just didn't feel like going out today."

I got four sticks out of the fridge, handed them to her and then stood there awkwardly for a second until she said: "wanna come over for a cookie?" An awkward laugh accompanied the offer, and I said, "sure." Strange. Why is she inviting me over? And only me? Our family and their family had family barbecues, but it was never this personal between her and I.

Cookies. And why not? I had nothing better to do, it was her house, and she offered, so if anything became weird or awkward at least I had that as an out.

I followed her home to get out of the rain, making small talk all the way. When we got inside, I found that all her windows were shut, pretty much isolating us completely from the outside world. It was dark but you could see fairly well.

As soon as I had entered the back pavilion I knew that something had changed about her demeanor. She was just acting differently.

With what I perceived as genuine loneliness, Linda said, "Thanks for coming over to keep me company."

"No problem," I said, all nonchalant.

"I've been pretty lonely, but I can't work right now with all that's going on with the kids, so I stay home and do the housewife thing."

Another smile, the same as the others.

"I bet you get pretty lonely too, without school or work to keep you busy," she said as we walked to the kitchen.

"It's going to end soon for me," I said, making a reference to college starting.

"How's the family," I asked. Genius. I sound like some corny old man.

"Good, the kids are loving the school district. Steve works a lot and we don't get along very well anymore."

Blunt. She definitely wasn't kidding. I found it strange that she would bring up that issue, so I was going to let it slide, when the entire day got weirder.

"He hasn't had sex with me for two years," with another laugh, a frustrated, disbelieving one.

I was shocked. Not only shocked that she had brought it up, so abruptly, but that she had mentioned it to me, the topic of conversation being so starkly different from what we had been talking about seconds earlier. Was this a sexual advance? And what should I say back? There was nothing I could think to say except "Why?"

"I don't know. We've just grown apart. Sometimes I think it would be nice to be reminded that I'm still appreciated."

Damn. This might just have been the golden opportunity I had been waiting for.

"I'm sure Steve still appreciates you. He might have a hard time showing it." I was now playing the role of guidance counselor, and hopefully I was doing it well.

"Maybe you're right, but I still wonder why he doesn't want to have sex." Linda seemed to be pressing the sex issue a lot. I figured I would try a new approach.

"Maybe he's having an affair." I said this with no more emotion than usual, and the implications of what I had said, although lost on me, were certainly not lost on this desperate housewife, who immediately gave me a look of shock and disbelief. I imagine that if I'd looked in a mirror I would have the same face. What had I just suggested?

"Haha, Scott...I...ha," was all she let out. "Scott, I don't know..." with a nervous laugh she slowly shook her head back and forth, looking into my eyes, not sure if she was reading the situation right. "I don't know." A deep breath, while she continued to look at me, as my exterior faded to an obvious loss of confidence.

With a sigh, another shake of the head, she said "Scott I..." and trailed off again. Suddenly she stopped and straightened. "Maybe you're right," she said. "I wonder if we could find out."

"Together?" I asked. "I've got some time to kill." It was true. I had all the time in the world.

"How can we find out?" asked Linda, and I realized I didn't know either. Then she had an idea. "How about phone records? His cell phone bill has to be around here somewhere," and on this suggestion, we began the hunt.

***

Bitterness. Anger. Resentment. Hurt pride. All these emotions she wore on her face, and they clouded the radiance that had been there earlier.

"I can't believe he's been doing this to me. I'm going to kill, KILL that son of a bitch," her tone intense, her eyes burning with fire and rage. For the first time in a few hours of my encounter with my neighbor I was at a loss for words. At least she wasn't crying. Yet.

We sat there, in her kitchen, for a few more moments, in silence. The phone record search had proven to be almost too good of an idea; it only took us two hours to find out that the number Steve called every day after work belonged to one of his female coworkers. This coworker we then found on the internet, and Linda's ease at opening Steve's e-mail and finding out that they had been having correspondences (of a sexual nature, of course), proved to her, beyond a reasonable doubt, that Steve had been cheating.

After a few more moments of silence, I said, "maybe you shouldn't think about killing him just yet."

"Why not?" was her angry reply.

"You could get even. Cheat on him. That way you can get your revenge AND have sex," casually slipped this in, in case she didn't think of it herself.

She turned her head, her head only, and looked me in the eye. Maybe I had pushed it with the sex comment.

"So I got my point across about being horny. Interesting." She was using more and more sexually explicit language, and directing it straight at me.

"Alright. Ok." That was all I got. No questions about what I had said. She knew what she wanted, and she was going to get it. "That does actually sound like a good idea." Excitement was just barely audible in her voice.

"Come to the basement," she motioned with her hand and a nod of her head. Jackpot.

The neighbor's basement had a back room with washer and dryer, and this is where she led me. She immediately knelt in front of me and started to unbutton my pants. Her forwardness at this point was astounding. It was if a switch had been flipped; her husband was going to get more than he bargained for with his infidelity, as Linda was seeing to it. She unzipped my jeans and quickly pulled them and my boxers down to about mid-thigh. My half-hard cock hung out in front of her face, and she gazed at it, mystified at what was probably the first cock she had seen in a few years.

Suddenly she laughed. "They're so much bigger than I remember," she said. Without any hesitation she took my shaft into her hands and started tugging gently on it, massaging it from base to tip with her smooth, cool hands. My cock grew the entire time in response to her gentle but firm kneading. Her right hand played with my cock while her left moved down to hold my sac.

"Do you like how that feels?" she asked, already knowing the answer that I couldn't give. She kept pulling on my dick, kneading the flesh between her experienced hands.

She stopped abruptly. "Let me get some supplies," she said with a dirty look in her eye, a mischievous smile spread across her lips. "We're going to make this worthwhile."

Still not fully believing what was happening to me, I just nodded and said, "Ok."

I stood in the laundry room while she went up the stairs. There were perhaps hundreds of kids toys and various other items related to living with three children strewn about the basement, but in the area of the dryer there was little more than a garbage can in the corner and a shelf containing dryer sheets and the like.

I heard footsteps on the stairs and pretended I hadn't been looking around. Linda entered the room with several items. The first looked like a tub of lube, and when she set it down on the shelf next to the detergent I could make out the word HANDJOB among various others on the side. A dark green towel and a cock ring were the other two items. I began to get excited again.

Linda walked over to where I was standing by the washing machine and turned me to face the garbage can in the corner. She asked, "are you ready?" while displaying her grin, flirty eyes, and perfect mouth.

"For what?" I was on a roll today with the brilliant lines.

"For this," she said as spun me around and put her face next to mine. She was standing behind me with her right hand on my cock, full and erect, and opening the jar of lube with her left. I felt her start to roll the cock ring onto the tip of my hard member, and heard the words 'you're going to love this,' whispered in my ear. I somehow knew that she was going to be right.

The cock ring got tighter and tighter as it neared the base of my dick. It pulled the skin tight at the tip, which allowed my masseuse to rub her fingers, still dry, all over my extremely sensitive shaft. The more aroused I became, the harder my cock got, thanks to the ring Linda had. When the stimulation became almost unbearable, she switched to the lube.

Linda dipped two of her fingers in the open jar on the shelf, and I watched as she reached around and started to spread it gently, first on the head, but the top only. Then she worked her way down the top of my cock to the base, leaving my sensitive underside to yearn for her soft caress. When she had worked her way down to the base, she started back up, all the way to the tip, and over to the bottom in one fluid motion. She repeated this on the bottom, making small circles down and then back up to make a circle with her fingers around the tip of my throbbing dickhead. The thumb-forefinger circle on my cock head became two fingers, her hand gyrating in steady rhythm around my most sensitive area like a hand juicing a lemon; the same hands had surely made lemonade in this fashion before, being the mother that she was. Her hand job slowly turned into the familiar pumping that I was expecting, but I was already so horny that I was sure to cum soon. She seemed to sense this and she stopped, wanting to get more out of what we were doing than a handful of semen.

"We'll continue this later," she said. Was I going to fuck this beautiful woman?

"I want to you to fuck me," she continued, apparently I was.

The tits I had fantasized about for years, the pussy that my hand had turned into in my dreams, were both about to be exposed to me for the first time, and this thought made me wild with desire. Linda stood across the room from me, taking her shirt off first, and then her bra. The tits that swung in front of me were the most perfect I had ever laid my eyes on. Looking at the glorious mounds of flesh and the pink nipples reminded me how good a fabulous set of breasts could look. Next off were her jeans, and the perfection of her pussy convinced me that her naked beauty would forever be etched in my memory.

She turned and faced the dryer. "Why don't you come over here?" She asked, and I moved behind her and started kissing her neck. She let out a sigh of pleasure as my arms wrapped around her waist. I massaged one hand up to her tits and the other down to her pussy, stroking the immaculate skin in between my fingers. Her soft breasts yielded to my grasping, and her pussy lips opened to invite my touch. I fingered her relentlessly, thumbed her clit, and enjoyed the moist pressure her insides could put on my groping fingers.

She put one knee on the washing machine, our bodies separating briefly. Her pussy displayed for me, I basked in its glory before aligning my hips with hers. Slowly, I placed the tip of my penis against her lips. I let go with my hand, and moved forward to put pressure behind my cock. I felt the warmth as she gasped; I was entering her. We were one. I pushed in further, my cock straining, and she couldn't resist pushing her hips back against mine, trying to get more of me inside, deeper. I was more than willing to acquiesce, and once I was inside I began to form a rhythm, pumping, moistening, fucking. Linda put her head down on the machine, and I lost all control. I fucked her wildly, hard and fast, before I realized I wanted to watch our conjoined genitals in this most carnal of acts.

I stopped, and she recommended we go upstairs to continue. I went first, and she followed after getting the supplies from the shelf. She lay down on the bed first, and I pulled her hips to the edge. I entered her perfect pussy, her legs spread, and we fucked like animals. She made noises I had never heard before and have never heard since. I had once read that a woman's sexual peak was in her forties, and I could only imagine what she would be like in ten years, being the animal she was now.

I fucked her standing next, with her right leg draped over my shoulder. Her legs were spread wide, fucking back against me.

"Scott, I'm going to...Oh, God, I'm cumming!" She orgasmed wildly amidst a series of hip spasms that almost knocked me over. This was too much for me, and I told her I needed to get off. We parted, and she knelt in front of me.

"I guess I'll finish what I started earlier," Linda said as her hand wrapped around my straining shaft, stroking, spitting on my cock to lube it up.

"Oh, God...I'm going to cum soon" was all I could say, as her hand job was much more to the point this time. Her gaze was fixed on my cock, and I could tell she was fascinated by what was about to happen.

Her pumping continued until she felt me swell with the anticipation of impending orgasm, and her motion slowed in speed but continued in intensity. As I shot my load against her chest in the first shot, she jerked a little, surprised at how violently I came, but continued her steady pumping nonetheless. She focused on the head of my dick, going hand over hand, milking another huge shot onto her breasts, which were now dripping in cum. I strained forward, and finished cumming, entirely spent.

"Thanks for letting me do that to you," she said as she wiped off her hands on a towel. I was wiping myself off, when she said, "maybe you should go soon, but I'd like to see you again this week. Before you go to school."

"I can't wait," I said as I smiled, and she kissed me on the lips, fully. I had the feeling that great things were in store for the next few days.