The rain tore from the sky, fat droplets hammering the driveway and bouncing almost to my knees as I rapped on my neighbour's front door. Royal blue, I noted, like those short, summer dresses she favours. Like the polka dot number that barely reached her thighs the other day while I was crouched washing my car wheels.

The memory was as clear as the sky had been ten minutes before. She'd breezed past, all legs, hips and temptation, pushing the pram on her way to the park, barely acknowledging me. When she paused a little further on and bent to coochie-coo her baby girl, I nearly dropped the hose as the hem ascended to reveal cute white tanga panties. They hugged the upper part of her incredible behind, leaving half-moons of tender flesh visible beneath.

Time froze, for how long I couldn't say. Short enough to tease. Long enough for it to surely not be accidental. I knew I shouldn't stare but it was impossible to pass up the voyeuristic opportunity, firming desire immediately beginning to make its presence felt against the fabric of my shorts. She truly was something else. Magnetic.

The spell was only broken when the hose jet caught the Audi's wheel arch, deflecting spray all over me. I spluttered and corrected its angle, water dripping from my chin and the silver paintwork. When she straightened, she threw a glance over her shoulder and flashed a grin before continuing up the street. I think she knew.

We'd not chatted much. Just exchanged a few pleasantries as new neighbours do: welcome to the street, what do you do, I'm James by the way. Yet here I was at her door, wetter than last time she'd seen me.

Although it was still warm, the rain felt like hail, stinging my bare arms beneath the Hollister T-shirt sleeves. The already close-fitting garment was becoming more diaphanous by the moment. I'd been outside less than a minute and already felt rising damp at the base of my jeans.

I reached to knock again just as I heard the key ratchet against the lock and the door swung inwards.

"James!" She flicked those welcoming, natural lashes and liquid brown eyes up and down my sodden form and stepped aside. "Come in quick, you're soaked."

"Thanks." I shook myself off as best I could and stepped into the porch, dripping onto the welcome mat and nudging a corner unit, upon which partially opened mail spilled from a letter rack.

After shutting out the flash storm, Kay eyed me again, part pity, part amusement. "Hell of a summer."

I nodded. "America's got a lot to answer for, giving us the tail end of their hurricanes."

"Let me get you a towel."

"No need, I'll drip dry." But she'd already brushed past me, making me shiver at the unexpected touch. Her strappy monochrome dress clung in all the right places as she paced barefoot through the hallway beyond the mouth of the staircase to the cupboard beneath. Opening it, she rummaged and threw a warm towel my way. I caught it, tousled my mousey hair, patted my drenched shoulders and jeans as best I could and tossed it back. "Thank Harry Potter for me."

Kay laughed, returned it to the airing cupboard and eased the door shut. "So what made you brave the storm?"

"Oh, yeah. I kind of locked myself out."

"Kind of?"

"Well, okay I did. You know that sinking feeling when you hear it click and realise your keys are on the kitchen table. And phone and wallet. All I have is the car key." I dug in my pocket and waved it as proof. "And then the heavens opened."

"Bad timing."

"Yeah. I'd sit in the car and wait for Emilia to get back, but I'm meant to be on a conference call later. Could I phone a locksmith, please?"

"Of course. Come in properly."

She waited as I kicked off my trainers, then indicated the homely living room to my left and followed me in. "Tea?"

"If you don't mind."

"Wouldn't have offered if I did. You look like a white with two sugars guy."

I blinked and raised an eyebrow. "Bookkeeper and clairvoyant?"

Her eyes sparkled like the silver studded cat earrings she wore. "You need to look a number up?"

"Please."

Kay swished past me, dress flowing and settling around her thighs with each step, mere inches of limber leg concealed before the curves began. She padded to the full height pine dresser decked with picture plates and grabbed her phone, swiping the unlock pattern with a practised flick of her fingertips and proffering me the device. "Good to go."

"Magic."

The phone was lighter than it looked. Some Sony thing, swanky and fairly new with a wraparound screen. Navigating the apps, I located the browser and soon found a website with an alphabetic list of locksmiths in the area. Went straight for number three, to avoid both the guy who'd deviously selected a business name starting 'a1', and the second guy who would spend more time worrying about how to compete with him than on his skills. Third, Foxsmiths, seemed a good compromise. I made the call, gave the amiable Carl Fox my details and arranged for him to let me in at his earliest convenience.

As I returned the device to the sideboard, my finger brushed one of the sea of icons along the edge of the home screen and I stopped. Lifted the phone again. Gallery was open and there was no mistaking a few of the thumbnails.

My heart began to thump and warmth spread through my cheeks. I scanned over my shoulder. Heard the kettle boiling. Kay opening cupboards. Spoons against mugs. Turning back to the phone I dared to tap on a photo and took an involuntary breath as it zoomed to fill the screen.

Kay. Kneeling in another dress the same colour as her front door, eyes choked with lust, looking straight up at the camera, its operator's fat cock wedged in her mouth. Probably just the final third or so was visible, glistening beneath the harsh flash.

I felt a lump rise in my throat that matched the one in my jeans. I swiped. The next shot was similar but she wasn't looking up, nose instead buried into the pubic hair of the owner of the enormous phallus. The cock was wide. I had no idea how she fit it all in. Didn't seem possible.

Again I swiped. She was sat back on her haunches, elated, a loop of spit between her Cupid's bow and the impressive shimmering length inches from her face. It looked almost as long as her forearm.

My hands were trembling, blood whooshing through my veins but I couldn't stop. It was just me and this window into her world. What followed was Kay on her hands and knees, facing away from the camera, dress hiked up to her waist, the most tantalising, pert derriere presented to the lens in a cute black thong the same shade as the mane of hair cascading over her back. The base of an elaborate colourful tattoo was visible on her sacrum. Tail of a dragon? Intertwined flower stems? I couldn't tell, but ached to find out.

Holding my breath I strained my hearing to be sure Kay was still occupied in the kitchen, then eagerly thumbed the screen. The panty material had been pulled aside and the same wide cock was half buried in her body. Next it was fully inserted, a pair of hands holding her butt cheeks slightly agape, her head swivelled to look back at the camera, ecstasy painted across her faraway gaze. I stared at the picture, hardening fully at the sight of her sexy arsehole on display. Incredible.

The flicker book continued, my thumb on autopilot as she was royally fucked by the enormous pole, splotches of her white come gradually peppering the shaft with each successive picture. I paused at the shot of a reddening handprint on her left bum cheek, cock poised at her wet entrance. Kay was biting her lip, with pleading eyes.

"Tea is served," she announced behind me and I nearly dropped the phone. With no time to quit the app properly, I frantically tapped back to the Home screen, cheeks burning. Kay eyed me as my mind whirled for some excuses, and I prayed my expression wasn't as panicked as I felt. She paused then smiled. "Found everything you need?"

"Uhhh, yeah." I checked the phone display and set the device down fast, like I'd discovered it was made of magma. "Guy said he was on a job and would be here in an hour or so."

"Time to kill then." She handed me a steaming mug and I perched on the nearby sofa with it, wrapping my hands around its curvature. Kay selected the plain chocolate armchair diagonally across from me and curled her legs up under herself, feet protruding from one side of the chair. My mind reeling, morals in disarray, I had to fight my instinct to stare at where her legs converged.

I focused instead on the cup and blew the surface of the drink, watching the liquid wrinkle away from me. Even that reminded me of the way her dress had been hiked off her flawless, milky behind. I tried to clear my head and took a sip. "Perfect, thank you."

She waved the compliment away. "Think nothing of it. You'd do the same for me." I nodded. "So when's Emilia due?"

"January."

She burst out laughing. "I meant what time today."

"Oh, right." Having just felt the colour drain from my cheeks, the glow returned. "About half seven I think. She's with a client in York."

Kay dared a sip of her tea and I watched the way her throat moved as the hot liquid slithered down. I found myself wondering if it undulated in a similar manner when it was filled with a massive cock. Moreso how she avoided the gag reflex. She brought me from my reverie. "Good thing about working from home is there's no traffic."

"Mmmm. Wouldn't go back to that unless I had to."

"Me neither."

There was a companionable silence accompanied only by the thrumming of the rain behind me against the windows of the cosily furnished living room. The carpet felt plush beneath my damp Simpsons socks, an oversize fluffy sheepskin rug a few feet away before the hearth punctuated the opposite wall. Family photos lined the mantelpiece beneath a large hexagonal mirror. She broke the silence again.

"So how long have you been up here?"

I swallowed my mouthful of tea. "About five years, give or take."

"And you like it?"

"Love it. People up here are so friendly. Still can't get used to saying 'morning' to strangers in the street. If I did that down South I'd get knifed."

Even the lilting laugh and simple act of flicking her hair back over one shoulder were somehow enticing. "Never thought of it like that."

"And everything's on the doorstep. Sports centre in town, I can be in the city in fifteen minutes or in the countryside fifteen minutes the other way."

Kay finished another mouth of tea, focusing past me at the rain streaming down the windowpane. "Best of both worlds."

"Is that why you bought the place?"

She thought a moment. "We liked the area. Quiet. Good amenities like you say. Lovely neighbours." Her eyes briefly met mine and I looked away. "We just fell in love with the house. It's got character the way old houses do. Felt… right, you know?"

I took in the crisp ceilings, plaster coving and thick wallpaper that, like our own house, probably served as much for warmth as it did for covering up the rugged finish of the hundred-year-old stone walls beneath.

"So where's home? I mean, before here."

"Harrogate."

"Ah, a posh local girl."

Her cheekbones lifted with the smile. The hometown explained her accent. Far flatter vowels than mine. She had an acutely feminine register, yet strong like she was used to projecting her voice, a pleasing cadence to her inflection.

I finished my tea and glanced for a place to put the mug. She saw me.

"No coffee table yet. We're looking. I can take that."

Kay held out her hand and I reached to pass it over. Our fingertips brushed for a fleeting moment but the effect was like a thunderclap inside me. I felt supercharged. Tingly. Why was something so insignificant amplified beyond its proportions? How could I be affected to this degree by someone I hardly knew? Someone who wasn't my wife. It didn't make any sense.

She drained the last of her drink and untucked her feet. Yet again, I tried hard not to look up her dress as she shuffled off the armchair and padded past me to the kitchen. She smelled great. Soap and a light perfume I couldn't place.

I spun my wedding ring. Glanced over at her phone on the dresser and its scorching hot contents, wondering if I could find a way to see more. It was unholy to even consider it. A one-way ticket to hell, for sure. But on the flipside, I couldn't unsee what I'd seen already. Was a little more of the same thing so bad? The lyrics from a song I'd heard on the radio swam through my head. Something about coming back Sunday morning to sell your soul.

I sensed Kay in the doorway and looked up, her head cocked, one arm on the frame.

"You've not seen the place yet have you?" I shook my head. "Maisie's taking her nap." She put her finger to her lips and lowered her volume. "Want the grand tour?"

"Sure. Time to kill."

She beamed and I rose, following her to the kitchen. It was well specified. Silver fridge-freezer like something off Cribs, built-in cooker, plenty of black, flecked workspace shimmering in the sunken spotlights. A gleaming breakfast bar with a well-stocked fruit bowl as its centrepiece finished it off, stools along the central island. A pine dining table in the far corner overlooked the garden, a swing and a greenhouse in view. "Nice."

"We like the space."

"It’s certainly big."

She twirled to prove it, the dress billowing a fraction, yet retaining her modesty. Then she glided past me to the hallway and started up the stairs. I followed, her scent drifting behind and filling me.

At the foot of the staircase I stopped at a picture frame with a handful of prints in it. A mixture of portrait and landscape shots of the family out and about. A park. A windswept beach. Someone's garden, a chuffed female relative sat on a sun lounger bouncing the baby on her knee. Kay hugging her daughter on a picnic bench. And one of those pro shots on a stark white background of Maisie playing with primary coloured ABC bricks.

When I'd finished, Kay was over halfway upstairs. I started after her and froze on the first step. I could practically see up her dress. Each stair revealed more of her trim thighs, nearly the crease where the tantalising behind I'd seen in the photos joined them.

Kay stopped, almost at the top, and turned. "What's up?"

"I…" I looked at the floor sharply.

For the umpteenth time I felt myself reddening and returned my attention up at her. Didn't know where to look. Everything was so damn alluring. Settled on her eyes after probably too long elsewhere. "It's not what you think. I just…" I took a breath. "By the time I'd looked at your phot… these photos, " I indicated. "Well, it was," I dropped my gaze to her hem and gulped, "too late."

Kay waited for my eyes to settle back on hers and tipped her head to one side coquettishly. "Too late for what?"

Clearly she liked making me squirm. "Too late to not seem. Umm." I didn't even know how to finish the sentence without incriminating myself. My heart was racing.

"Seem what, James?" She turned to face the upper landing and put one foot forward, up a step, three from the top. Called over her shoulder: "What do you see?"

I took another deep breath. "You."

She paused. "Anything-" her other foot moved to the second stair, "-in particular?"

"Your…"

"My what?"

"Legs," I blurted.

Kay stopped. "You like my legs, James?" I nodded, even though she wasn't looking. "What do you like about them?"

I wasn't sure how to play this. What was acceptable banter and what crossed the line? I frantically searched for something to say. Something neutral yet flattering.

"Your muscle tone."

It sounded shit the moment it tumbled from my mouth and I wished I could take it back. I could hear the smile in her voice. "My muscle tone? Nothing else?" She took another step. The base of her panties, smooth and yellow like lemon curd, became visible clinging to the lower curve of her wonderful bottom and framing it. Best piece of artwork I'd ever seen. "How about now?"

"Kay…" there was both warning and pleading in my tone.

"Yes, James?" She looked back over her shoulder and I traced my gaze up every sumptuous arc to reach her eyes.

"We're-"

"Adults? Neighbours?"

"No," I shot back. "Well, yes. But you shouldn't. We shouldn't."

Kay seemed amused. "Shouldn't look at each other? Why? Do you not like my body?"

I swallowed. Prayed it wasn't a trick question. "Come on, Kay, you know the answer to that."

She nodded. "I've seen the way you look at me. Downstairs just now. In the street."

I looked away. "Sorry."

"Don't be." She gave a little chuckle. "Honestly, I'd be a tiny bit offended if you didn't find me attractive."

"R… Really?" I braved another glance up at her statuesque form.

She took the final stair to the landing. I felt so weak, but electrified. Conflicted. I loved my wife with all my heart. Had sworn an oath to her in front of seventy-eight witnesses. Seventy-nine including God. And yet, here I was leering at another man's wife two doors and thirteen steps away.

I had to fight a sudden urge to race over every single one and sweep her off her feet, carry her to the bedroom and take my time discovering what else was under that gloriously short dress. The unexpectedness of the thought scared me. Thrilled me.

Kay's fingertips brushed her thighs beneath the thin fabric. She caught the hem at both sides and gingerly lifted it. Each millimetre of her beautiful behind that was revealed felt like someone had my heart in a rack, cranking it tighter, stretching me to breaking point. She must have heard my breathing stop.

"Is that better, James? See anything more than muscle tone now?"

"It's… you're magnificent, Kay."

She let the hem drop. Turned, trailing her finger up one side of her body, tracing every curve until it reached her mouth and she hung the tip from her parted lips for a moment. An innocent tease with such connotations.

"What would you do if you were up here alongside me?"

I opened and closed my mouth like a damn guppy. "Kay, that's not…"

Her stare brimmed with mischief. "Don't be a spoilsport. You chose me, didn't you?"

"W-what?"

"Come on, James. You had the pick of all the houses in the street and you knocked on mine. Why?"

"I was… It was-"

"An accident you turned up here? Knowing my husband was out and your wife was miles away."

"No! Kay, I swear it wasn't like that. Look, I should go."

My eyes flicked to hers. Saw unexpected desire ablaze behind them and all of a sudden it fell into place. She needed it. Wanted to be wanted. It was some kind of game to her. A power trip.

She stared me down, burning a hole in my resolve. "So what would you do?"

I tried to calm. Told myself it was only a game. Just words. Convinced myself that playing along was a harmless pursuit. I swallowed. "If I was up there? You honestly want to know?"

"Wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

I drew a deep breath. Cast my gaze up and down her amazing legs, formulating a sentence. Wondering how far I could go. "I'd start by… running my hands up and down your body."

"Mmmm. I think I'd like that as a start. Anything else?"

"I'd step in for a kiss." I saw her eyes widen, and pressed on. "A deep kiss. Starting slow then becoming more intense. Until our hands couldn't keep off one another. Grabbing, holding, pulling each other together. Tongues entwining."

"Oh, James. That'd be so wrong. So naughty."

"I'd especially like to lift the hem of your dress and cup your beautiful behind. Would that… please you?"

Her exhalation answered on her behalf, hands moving to outline the curvature of her lissom form and running the full length of her torso, each touch exciting me as much as it appeared to do her. I watched, mesmerised, as her palms came to rest at her small breasts and she cupped them, gave a gentle squeeze and breathed out again. "What would you do with these?"

I saw the want in her eyes. The pleading. Cleared my throat. "Wouldn't be able to keep my hands off them. I'd draw circles around them. Gradually work my way upwards and inwards to the peaks. Close in on your nipples."

She mirrored what I said, languorously circling each mound in concentric hoops, then took a sharp breath as her fingertips brushed the caps. I could see her judder. "Sensitive. Hard. Definitely wanting."

I braved switching the balance to being questioner. "Wanting what, Kay?"

Her eyes fluttered shut then opened again. "Your touch. Pinching." She did just that and gasped. "Yesss, pinching."

Even though I couldn't see the detail of her nipples in the half-light of the staircase it didn't affect my imagination. I went all out, unable to keep the quiver from my voice. "Would you let me do more than that? Use my lips. My tongue. My teeth?"

Kay groaned. "Yes, I'd like that. I'd love that." I watched her fingers become more animated over her tits, tweaking each nipple, and having to catch her bottom lip between her teeth to mute the soft moans that bounced their way down the stairs to me. I was fully hard, desperate to rearrange my underwear.

"This can't be happening."

"Why not?"

"Because it's wrong. Because I know thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife." I paused and breathed in hard as she stroked her body through her clothes. "Damn, you make it so hard not to sin."

Her fingers continued to play with her tits, clearly igniting something beneath the fabric. "Sin," she breathed, "is just a word, open to interpretation. One man's sin is another's escapism."

I was stunned. "Is that what you think this is? Me escaping?"

"Come on, James. You have needs. Desires. How much attention have you had in the last few months? How much release?"

I brushed off the insinuation. "That's not the point."

Her smile grew. "But it's exactly the point. Sometimes fantasy is healthy. Sometimes fantasy is… necessary."

"Necessary?"

"To let off steam, even in a stable relationship." Her tone hardened. Became almost urgent. "You've thought about me, haven't you, James? At home. When Emilia's asleep alongside you. You've thought about touching me. About kissing me. About biting my-" her voice caught as she gave her gorgeous breasts a squeeze, "-my plump little tits and hard nipples, until I cry out your name. Beg you for more."

My defences were gradually eroding and she knew it. Could probably sense my desperation even if she couldn't see how hard I was in my jeans. I felt a void inside me fill as I allowed her words to infect me. A hunger I didn't want to acknowledge because I'd prayed faith would keep me strong.

She was right of course about my thoughts. Uncannily accurate, but I fought for my sense of decency. To not admit I'd betrayed Emilia, even if it was only in my head. But the visions flooded back, swirled in response to the sight of Kay turning herself on above me. And moment-by-moment, what little resolve I had shrank, becoming more distant, harder to cling to, then evaporated.

I clenched my fist and hissed, "Yes, Kay. Yes I've thought about you next to me. Letting me kiss you. Letting me touch your tits." I lowered my voice to a hoarse whisper. "What else would you allow me to touch?"

"Everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes, everything."

"Such as?"

She trailed her fingers from the swell of her breasts all the way down the front of her dress, stopping at the base. In a provocatively slow movement, she raised the front, inch by inch, bunching the material in one hand at her midriff so the other could glide to the waistband of her underwear.

"Here," she breathed.

"Your knickers?"

"Yes. I want you to touch my knickers, James."

I swallowed. "They're so pretty on you."

Her eyes burned into mine. "They're also pretty off me."

My belly fluttered. "You'd like that? Like me to take them off? Slide them down your sexy legs so you can step out of them? Leave nothing under your dress except air?"

"God, yes. So exciting."

I watched another now familiar twinkle form in her eye. My gaze was drawn downward as her fingertips crept below the waistband. Her wedding ring disappeared. Knuckles followed, until only her wrist was visible. She breathed out heavily as the outline of her fingers gave away what was happening beneath the thin material. I could barely believe it. My sexy neighbour masturbating right before my bug-eyed stare. I didn't dare blink. Didn't want to miss a second.

Kay whimpered softly and her head tipped back a little as her fingertips explored. My erection tried to burst from my still damp jeans as the whimper turned to a groan. "Sooo good," she exhaled. "I'll be wet soon if I keep this up. You'll be able to see how much. Should I stop, James?"

I almost had to grab the newel post for support, my voice hollow. Broken. "No. Don't stop. Please."

Kay's fingers moved beneath the flimsy material. Circling for the most part, knuckles occasionally stretching the material as she dipped inside her folds for lubrication. Her mouth fell open and she breathed out, eyes drifting shut.

I listened to the faint rustle of the fabric and gentle clicks of the moistening folds beneath. Couldn't remember ever being as excited. Wasn't sure if the rising temperature in the hallway was due to the storm passing and the sun coming out again, or the blood thundering through my body and turning every part of me on at once.

With her eyes still closed, Kay whispered, "Don't stop talking. Tell me what you want to do to me. Every filthy thought."

My voice was edgy. "I want to kneel in front of you while you're doing that."

"Doing what, James? Say it."

"While you're… masturbating. I want to be up close as you circle your hard clit. I want to be so close I can smell your arousal through your underwear."

"Ohhhh, that sounds naughty." She opened her eyes and bore them into mine. "Is that all you want to do?"

I gulped. Flicked my eyes to her panties and back. "No. When I peel your knickers off, I want to keep them."

Kay's eyes widened and her fingers circled furiously. "Kinky. You want to take my knickers home with you?"

"Yes."

"Would you lie in bed next to your wife, take them out and sniff them? Have the lingering scent of my hot pussy against your nose?"

I exhaled hard. "Yes, I would."

"And would you jack off, thinking of me, imagining my pussy writhing against you?"

"Yes." My cock surged. I felt the tip leak a dot of fluid into my boxers. "I want to push you back where you are now, crawl forward and slide my tongue inside you. Taste every drop. Tease your clit until you come on my face."

"You'd do that for me?"

I was becoming bolder now, emotion overtaking common sense. "Absolutely. I'd lick you until you couldn't stand any more. Until you were spent."

"Oh, James. I'd love that. I don't think I'd be able to control myself though. I might have to sit on your face. Grind my slick pussy against your nose and mouth. Really make you work for the taste of my little hot, wet, cunt."

I almost lost it in my jeans when she swore. It was so erotic. I breathed hard and squeezed my eyes shut to reduce the visual stimulation. She was incredible. A dirty live wire, just two doors from me. As the sensation subsided and eventually passed, only the clicking sound of her juices meeting my ears, I locked eyes with her again.

"You're too hot, Kay."

She smiled. "I know." Her mouth went slack a moment as she drove her fingers inside herself and used the other hand to tweak her nipples. "Does that mean you'd fuck me, James? Please, tell me you would."

The answer came more easily than I expected. "In an instant." I recalled the photo of her on her knees. Those longing eyes, imagining they were looking back at me. "I'd flip you onto all fours, grab your hips and thrust inside your soaking pussy. Fill you with cock, because that's what you like isn't it?"

"More than you know. The harder the better." I shook my head and let out a low whistle. She seemed amused. "What is it? You don't think innocent little moi could want sex that much?"

"Something like that."

Kay drew in another sharp breath as her fingers continued to tease. "Appearances can be deceptive."

"So I see."

"God, I want you to fuck me, James. Slam into me from behind. Treat me like the slut I am."

The button on my jeans felt like it was about to ping up the stairs. The sight of her curvy rear from the photo flashed in my mind. And the handprint. "I ought to put you over my knee for even thinking that."

Her fingers picked up pace and eyes shone. "Oh would you, James? I have been very bad lately."

"You need spanking, Kay? Discipline?"

"Yessss."

"What for?"

She bit her lip. "I fucked another man."

That floored me. "What?!"

"Oh I think you know. You saw the photos, yes?"

I looked away, the action itself admission. When I returned, she was staring down at me, eyes brimming with lust. "What did you think?"

"That… that wasn't your husband?"

"No. He was behind the camera."

"Never! Kay!" It hadn't occurred to me at the time, but as I replayed the photos in my mind I remembered the owner of the massive tool had both his hands on her bum. Couldn't wrap my brain around it. To even have the gall to introduce someone else. The strength of their relationship. "How does he…? I'd be so jealous."

She chuckled. "It was his idea. He loves watching me take big dicks. It's his turn straight after when I'm stretched and full of slippery come." Her twinkling eyes briefly glazed before focusing back on me. "I think he'd like to watch you fuck me."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Really."

"You want to be treated badly? Think you deserve me to slap your butt while I fuck you? Make a mark so he can see how dirty his horny wife is?"

"Ohhhh," Kay's fingers worked overtime in her panties. "So close," she hissed, the darker circle on their surface demonstrating the level of her excitement as if there was any doubt. "Show me your cock, James."

I didn't have anything to say to that. Just solidified.

Kay continued. "Let me see it. Show me what you're going to put inside me. Please, James. I want to see your fat cock."

Her gaze bore into me. The same pleading expression from the photos on her phone. The same pent up energy.

I told myself again it was only a game, even if it was a lame excuse to justify my actions. The thought of someone other than Emilia appraising me, sizing me up, filled me with equal parts dread as excitement. But Kay's wanton expression and raw need in the moment won.

Reaching for the waistband, I unsnapped the button and felt the pressure ease immediately, then drew down the zip. Kay became more animated as I slowly pulled the elastic of my boxers first out, then down. My erection bobbed into view, full and hard.

Her fingering stepped up to warp speed. The sound of her wet arousal echoed down the stairs. "Such a beautiful cock. I want you to push me back so I can feel that pounding inside me. Filling me, stretching me while you bite and slap my tits and call me your dirty fucking whore. I want you to mistreat me. Make me your slut, James. I'll do anything you ask."

I don’t know how I held off as she talked herself into an orgasm while her gaze ate up my throbbing pole. Her whimpers increased in intensity and head tipped back as her moans tailed off and she froze. I committed the scene to memory, knowing the statue of her high above me would haunt my nights for months, maybe longer.

Three seconds. Four. Five. She didn't move until, without warning, a gasp rang out, body jerking, hand crushed against her pubic bone inside her panties. I focused on the growing dark patch in her knickers then had to squeeze my eyes shut again to stop myself from ejaculating all over the evergreen stair carpet.

I fought against the orgasm, the vision of her wet underwear refusing to fade. I thought of ice cream. Penguins. The arctic. Anything cold, and somehow began to bring my body under some semblance of control despite Kay's staccato exhalations through gritted teeth threatening to undo my hard work and tip me over the edge. I willed myself to keep it together until her moans became further apart as her climax gripped, flowed and ultimately began to tail off.

When I deemed it safe to open my eyes I found her focused on my groin again. "Fuck, James, that was intense. Thank you."

"Any time."

"I hope so. Sorry to jump ahead but I couldn't help myself." She gave a weak grin. "According to the alphabet, J should come before K."

I laughed, "It's fine, honestly."

"No." She eyed my solid prick. "It's not fair I should have all the fun and leave you hanging. Come on. Touch yourself."

"But… I wouldn't want to ruin your carpet."

Kay chuckled, slid her hand from pussy to hip, the other one moving to mirror it, then yanked her knickers down those amazing, long legs and straightened up. I caught a glimpse of her neatly trimmed snatch, the sparse hair glistening around her distended lips before the dress floated to cover the beautiful mess.

I almost didn't have time to react as she balled her underwear up and threw them down the stairs to me, but I caught them. They were hot in my hands. I did nothing. Just stared at the lemon material like it was some kind of holy relic.

"Open your present," she insisted.

Slowly I undid them. The light streaming from the front door behind me caught the glistening silver splotches that coated the gusset. My breath jammed in my throat and my cock throbbed involuntarily, the previous arctic thoughts abandoned; they instantly turned volcanic.

I could hear the excitement in Kay's voice. "Aren't you going to find out what I smell like?"

I didn't know if I could, if I should, but my fingers roamed to the sticky centre of their own accord. Smoothed the fabric either side. Bringing my eyes up to seek her, I gently drew the material towards my face. With gazes locked, I parked the material just in front of my nose and inhaled deeply.

It was like an electric shock to my senses, body flooding with some kind of chemical release I wasn't qualified to understand but never wanted to stop. She was earthy and raw. High notes delivered a brief sweetness that danced through my nostrils but it was the long draw, like a full-bodied red, that captured my complete attention. The musk of her wet pussy invaded my very core and fresh blood surged to my cock. I felt it swell, harder than I could ever imagine.

One shot wasn't enough. I breathed in again. And again, each time learning something new until I was reduced to a frenzy of lust, a slave to her scent. Unable to resist, I pressed the material to my nose, felt her essence coat it, her tacky juices my drug.

Kay urged me on. "Is that good? Can you imagine what it's like to taste me from the source? To have me sit on your face and grind my sticky wet cunt all over your nose and mouth. To smother you. Dominate you. Use you to bring myself off. Flood your face then glide down your body and impale myself on your massive prick. Fuck you wildly as you pinch my nipples. Let you play with my-"

"Kay… fuck… no, I'm..." I felt it rising past the point of no return, her intoxicating aroma and erotic imagery too much to bear.

"Come in my knickers, James. Come all over them."

In a daze, I yanked the material from my face, cupped it, gusset up, in my palm and grabbed my shaft with the other. The touch was a jolt to my system. I angled my cock down, pumped furiously with a series of short strokes and every one of my senses lit up.

Rope after rope of thick spunk fired from the flared tip, lining the central strip of her underwear. The release was like nothing I'd ever felt. Powerful and wrong, yet so right. It felt like it would never end, the pent-up pressure of weeks with barely a hint of interest from Emilia flooding from me, pooling hot in my neighbour's knickers.

Kay cooed with delight as the pulsing continued then ultimately waned to pearlescent drops oozing from the tip. My legs turned to rubber and I leant against the wall for support, suddenly unable to believe what I'd done. I stared down into her panties, then up at Kay, radiant and alive at our recklessness.

"You're not keeping those, they're my favourites."

"Uhhh, of course."

I carefully parcelled them up to enclose my seed and tossed them up the stairs. She lunged to catch them, unrolled the fabric and ran her finger through my spunk, scooping a drop and bringing it to her tongue.

"Mmmm."

Even after everything that had happened, I was mesmerised at her brazenness. Moreso when she nonchalantly unfurled the panties fully and stepped back into them, gliding the cotton up those legs to die for and snapping the material back in place. She squirmed against our mixture of come, breaking out a broad smile.

"That'll keep me on edge until Ben gets home."

"You're going to tell him?"

"Don't you want me to?"

"I… I'm not sure." I suddenly felt shame at being exposed and scrabbled to return my withering cock to my boxers and jeans. "Uhhh, Kay?"

"Yes?"

"Have we… have I just cheated on Emilia?"

"Define cheating." She paused and I wasn't sure if it was rhetorical until she continued. "If she asked if you've slept with another woman, what would you say?"

"Well, no of course."

"What if she asked if you'd touched another woman sexually?"

"No."

"Then, have we cheated?"

"I… I don't think so. Have we?"

She breathed out. "We took advantage of a situation to blow off some steam. My conscience is clear. Yours should be too." I wasn't convinced and she sensed my unease. "Relax, James. You're not an adulterer."

"Then why do I feel guilty?"

She pursed her lips. "It'll pass."

I was still tingling but there was something else alongside it. Hollow excitement, perhaps. Guilt and euphoria. A need fulfilled, but at what cost? I looked up at Kay again. Tried to draw strength from her unabashed behaviour that had challenged my faith, beaten it and driven me off-piste. Her comfort at what she'd done. Her lascivious lifestyle.

She broke my thought train. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, bring Emilia over one night." My eyes widened but she ploughed on. "Just dinner. Plenty of wine. If you're supportive, she might surprise you."

"No way. She's stronger than me. She wouldn't."

Kay flicked a strand of hair from her face. "And half an hour ago, nor would you."

My mind spun. Possibilities. Exploration. I needed space to think. "I should go. Wait for the locksmith."

"As you wish, James."

"Yeah. Go. Uhhh…" I started to reverse from the staircase. "Thank you. For the drink. And use of your phone. And… well… everything."

Kay's radiance glowed from the top of the stairs, a wicked glint in her eye. "My pleasure. Come again soon."

It wasn't until I'd backed into the porch, tussled with my still soaked trainers like I'd never worn shoes before and let myself out into the now beating sunshine that I breathed out fully. I paused with my back to her front door, the blue now forever synonymous with her dresses and the treasures I had seen beneath. Visions indelibly imprinted on my mind.

I launched myself up the driveway to the sanctity of the road where the patches of rain were already beginning to dry. Made my way the short distance to my car, blipped the locks and settled into the driver's seat for the wait.

My mind was a whirling hurricane of emotions. I had no idea what to do or think. Part of me wanted to own up, part wanted to keep it a secret. Another part of me was intrigued about Kay's offer of dinner and the possibilities it afforded. The thought of Emilia being seduced. Fucked while I watched her unravel, and how I thought about that. Perhaps joining in to really blow her mind, watching her suck my cock as she was being pumped full.

Thoughts tumbled. I imagined seeing her eyes roll back the way she does when she comes. The sight of her hairy pussy dribbling another man's hot come. Shoving my steel into the slick mess and adding to it.

Next, the two women together. Kissing one another. Touching. Groping. Then Emilia shedding her top, lifting her skirt and riding my neighbour's face while I sank to my knees in front of Kay's beautiful pussy. Drowning in her exquisite juices. Watching both girls come before flipping my neighbour over, my cock sliding home and burying deep inside her as my wife urged me on.

I shuffled in the seat, twitching inside my underwear. It was going to be a long wait for the locksmith. Longer still until Emilia returned and I had some hard decisions to face.