When I was looking for a new neighborhood following my divorce, I wasn't interested in a young people's hip urban vibe. I was thirty-five years old, had been married for fifteen years and I felt like my youthful partying days were behind me. I wanted a mature neighborhood, one with towering trees, nice yards and neighbors who waved at each other and shared chit-chat over the back fence.
As I settled into my new ranch-style home, I got to know the neighbors. There was a single dad across the street. Never home. On one side of me was a young couple with two school-aged children who were running day and night. On the other, a set of newlyweds expecting their first baby in six months. They seemed so young. Out back, there was the gay couple with two kids (the older husband's from a previous marriage) who were fun to talk to. Next to them, with a large yard and a greenhouse lived a woman a few years older than me and her two older teen daughters.
These three really caught my attention. It had been months since I had been with a woman -- and the last year of my marriage was sex free except for occasional hand relief -- so I found myself sitting on the back deck watching my neighbors with lascivious thoughts.
As I got to know the neighbor lady, Debbie, she let me know that she and her husband were separated and getting a divorce but were technically married.
"So, I'm still Mrs. Jensen for the time being," she told me one day as I leered down her loose-fitting t-shirt during a break from her yard work. We shared a cold beer in our adjoining backyards. "I think it helps the girls. They love their daddy and I try not to say anything bad about him, even if he was an unfaithful prick to me."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "But I'm glad you are looking out for what is best with the girls. From what I can tell, they're good girls. I'm so glad my ex and I didn't have kids. The way she fucked around on me -- and with her damn boss -- I don't know if I could do what you're doing."
"It sounds like we have some things in common," Debbie said, wrapping her lips around the neck of the beer bottle and pouring the sudsy juices down her throat. "Maybe you can come over some night when the girls are away or asleep and we can share some stories about what we'd really like to do to our cheating spouses."
I felt my cock surge in my pants as she talked, sucked and swallowed the beer. "Well, that would be great. I can't wait to hear the details."
As she walked back to her house, I watched ass swaying. Her hips, widened by childbirth, were tight in her jean shorts and the bottom of her buttocks peaked out the bottom of the fringe. Her dark curly hair fell below her shoulders and was usually in a ponytail. I imagined myself behind her, thrusting, pulling her hair while she rocked back and forth. I was hoping my throbbing cock was not showing through my sweats. I barely slept that night and when I woke, my cock was rock hard, and my thoughts were on my new neighbor.
A couple of days later, I was in the back mowing the lawn wearing a tight-fitting t-shirt and shorts. I was in attractive shape and liked to wear as little as possible. I rarely wore underwear, so my cock was free to sway and swell as much as possible. I admit, I was hoping to catch the eye of the next-door missus as I sweated away.
Debbie and the older of her daughters, Diana, came into the yard to work in the garden just as I was finishing. We waved and my eyes were drawn to Debbie's top: a bright red cotton halter that tied just below the breasts. Her nipples were clearly visible, and the top worked hard to contain ample cleavage. She had on black spandex shorts that gripped her hips and ass. From the look of her crotch, she'd gone without underwear today, too. I wondered if this outfit was for me.
"Hi there, neighbor boy," Debbie called as Diana -- dressed similarly to her mom, except with black on top, slightly less cleavage and blue covering her nineteen-year-old ass -- loosened the garden soil with a rake. "Nice day for a workout, don't you think?"
I strolled over to the fence and jumped over, noticing that the tip of my semi-engorged cock was peeking out of the bottom of my short shorts. I saw the look on Diana's face as I walked over, and she was clearly staring at my crotch. I watched her hand slide up and down the handle of the rake.
A man couldn't be so lucky as to have a mom-daughter combo, could he, I thought as my thoughts turned from being a good neighbor to being the neighborhood stud.
"Diana, I think it's time for you to go pick up your sister," Debbie said. "Why don't you run along, and I'll visit with Tom until you get back."