Horny for the New Neighbor

Disgruntled, I dragged the last boxes through the garden to my half of the house and would have loved to scream with rage. If my ex had been here now, I would have strangled him, but before that I probably would have tortured him, this carrion.

He had done this to me without need, just to annoy me, just to take revenge. For what? For the fact that I couldn't stand him anymore, him, his womanizing, his boozing and dishonesty. Yes, I wanted a divorce, but I had no proof, no photos of him and the girls who had thrown themselves at the successful crime writer's chest, what do you mean chest, dick. I had nothing but my sadness that our dream and our life plan together, born of love, had not come true.

We had bought the house together - a duplex, one half to live in, one to work in, me downstairs, him upstairs. He wrote crime novels and I romantic love stories. Each was successful in his own way, except that I didn't screw my readers - yes, men were part of my readership, too. Only he did that, but of course he denied everything and after a horrible year the judge finally divorced us, on the grounds of marital breakdown. I didn't want any money from him, just peace and the house. I even offered him to buy or rent his half, but he laughed in my face: "Sabine, this is my half, I can do what I want with it and what I certainly don't want is for you to have it. Put that out of your mind, I'd rather give it away to a Turkish family of ten!"

It didn't come to that in the end, but he did sell them. So I had to clear everything out, had to put up the fence in the garden again, although the other half had also been tended and planted by me. Of course, I waited until the end and just as I was putting the last box down on my porch, panting, the front doorbell rang.

The busy author had not found it worth his while to be present when the keys were handed over. He had simply given the new neighbors my number and told them I had the keys and would show them around.

That's why I had had that phone call the night before. A squeaky female voice answered: "Hello, Reimann here, are you the housekeeper of the writer Hoffer? We'll be there tomorrow, be ready at 10 a. m., thank you!"

I hadn't even gotten around to expressing my indignation, let alone noting that I wouldn't be here at ten o'clock.

After all, thanks to modern technology, I could call the number back, which I did by return of post. I was about to vent my anger, but to my surprise, a sonorous, very pleasant male voice suddenly answered: "Good evening, Ziebert!"

I stumbled and pressed the inner reset button: "Excuse me, this is Wieland, the divorced wife of Mr. Hoffer. I just had a call from this number, can you give me...?"

There was silence on the other end for a moment and then the voice cleared its throat. "Oh, I'm sorry, there must have been a misunderstanding, my fiancée thought...!"

"Yes, I understood, she thought I was the housekeeper. That's a mistake, I'm your new neighbor and I won't be home tomorrow at ten. You would either have to come earlier or around twelve!"

"Well, thank you very much, then we'll come at fourteen o'clock, does that suit you, Mrs. Wieland?"

"Yes, it's fine!"

"Good, then thank you very much and have a nice evening!"

"See you tomorrow!", I said and was about to hang up, when I heard him say to someone, "Great, now you have the new neighbor..., beep, beep, beep!"

He had probably continued, ".... offended," which was true. Housekeeper, pah. I wasn't even that when we were married.

But what was I actually? In the beginning, mainly a lover - we fucked every day, often several times. We were constantly on the road, sometimes in Italy, sometimes in Greece, in Sweden, in Austria, it was wonderful. We earned well, he more than I, but we were both content and could afford everything. As the years went by we became more sedentary, he started drinking, quite heavily and in the same proportion as the alcohol level rose, my libido dropped to the bottomless pit and in the end, after 12 years of marriage, we practically didn't sleep together at all. He fucked away and I with my vibrator.

Now I was 36, single again and had been unfucked for a year and a half. The last time Erik, that was my ex's name, had slept with me was even longer ago and had been a disaster. In between I had a short affair with my editor, but when his wife found out that he was cheating, it stopped very quickly. Thank God she had no idea that I was the one with whom her husband had sunk his handsome cock. If she had, I would not only have lost a great editor, but also a friend.

Well, and since then it's been a case of "off the clock" and my life has been pretty straightforward. I wrote, ate and fucked myself with my now five different dildos. The latest acquisition was one for behind. I'm experimenting with it right now.

All this was going through my head after I had hung up and the pleasant voice of this gentleman, what was his name - aja, Ziebert - was echoing in my head.

I sat down on the veranda with a glass of wine, enjoyed the peace and quiet, probably for the last time in a long time, and thought about the fact that I urgently needed to change something in my life. A man had to come along, even if it was only to satisfy my sexual needs. I was gradually fed up with artificial tails and my own fingers in pussy and butt. I finally wanted to feel a piece of hard, vibrating man meat in my pussy and a rough tongue on my clit again.

When I opened the door punctually at 2 pm the next day, I knew immediately - it had to be him. About this, and I was quite sure, his companion would not change anything, although she looked very good. Long blond hair framed a pale, somewhat angular face with big blue sleeping eyes, a somewhat pointed nose, and lips that were a little too narrow for my taste. She was slim, tall, and her somewhat skinny legs were in sandals tied tightly with straps halfway up her calves. Jeans - the kind with holes on thighs and knees - and T-shirt also looked extravagant and expensive. She was a dolly that Mr. Ziebert obviously afforded himself, and certainly not for deep conversations by the fireplace, but one hundred percent for fucking. But I knew these things, they were always in my novels - beautiful, willing, but unimaginative, interchangeable and boring. You could do anything with them, but the orgasms were fake and after the blowjob they needed a mouthwash. However, if the sponsor was out of the house, then the pool boy was allowed to the pussy and with him she then became loose. He was even allowed to fuck her in the ass, which she only allowed Daddy to do when he bought her a new car.

Why he had such a doll was unclear to me, because as he looked and literally smelled of testosterone, he could probably have any and me anyway. Short brown hair, three-day beard, bright green eyes, sensual lips and an angular chin - a face like something out of a catalog for male beauty ideals. Even the jacket could not hide the fact that he was strong and well trained. Broad shoulders, a strong, pronounced neck and the narrow waist testified to daily workouts, and the way his jeans stretched over his thighs was indication enough for me that he had to look great in swim trunks or without them altogether.

With a winning smile that gave me goose bumps on my forearms, he held out his hand to me, dry, warm, pleasantly firm, but not so macho that your fingernails flew off: "Good afternoon, Mrs. Wieland, thank you for taking the time to meet us. May I introduce Brigitte, my fiancée!"

We both knew it, that we would not become friends and when she gave me her hand like a cold fish, the goose bumps intensified, but out of disgust. With her squeaky voice she whispered a soft "hello", not looking at my face but at my tits. She was probably jealous that I had some and made no secret of it. I could still afford to take them out without a bra, and enjoyed the way the T-shirt stretched over them. He, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice them, still smiling, and asked, "May we ask you for the key? We want to look around quickly, because tomorrow comes the furniture truck and there we want to go through again, where what should go!"

I had already put it on the little table next to the door ready to hand over and handed it over with a heavy heart. He kind of got that and asked, "You worked there, your husband and you, right?"

I nodded, "Yes, but through the divorce...! Well, that's the way it is. In principle, my half is enough for me now, too. So, here's to being a good neighbor!"

"Oh, come along for a jump," he asked, "maybe you can advise us!"

If his Brigitte hadn't given him a nasty look, along the lines of, "Leave the old woman here," I probably would have refused, but that way I was pleased and agreed.

Once over there, I showed him the fuse box, the gas meter and the main tap for the water, explained the automatic system for the windows in the sloping roof and enjoyed the smell of his tart aftershave.

"What do you actually do for a living?" I asked as we walked back down to the first floor.

"I'm a doctor, specializing in sports injuries, have a small private clinic where I mend collateral ligaments and things like that!" and although I hadn't asked and didn't really care, he continued, "Brigitte is in fashion, prepares fashion shows for an agency, travels a lot!"

"I see," I said, "interesting," making it sound like she was responsible for emptying the trash cans in the public parks. The only thing I liked well was the news that he would apparently be alone more often. That thought was enough to make me feel a familiar and long-missed tug in my loins - a feeling commonly referred to as arousal.

"You're a writer too, aren't you?" he inquired politely, and I smiled, "Well, I write love stories under various pseudonyms. Nothing insanely challenging, but it feeds me!"

"I prefer to read mystery novels," Peep Mouse let himself be heard, and he asked, "Under what pseudonyms, may I ask?"

"Ha ha, I don't think you read that sort of thing," I laughed, enumerating, "Dagmar Steinbrecht, Käthe Silberstein, Katrin...!"

"The Wind is Her Friend, Sun Heart?"

I was flabbergasted, "Yes, exactly! You read that?"

"Yes, I find it good and relaxing. I don't have to deal with problems in my spare time too, and I see enough blood during the day. I like your books. Congratulations!"

"Thanks! That makes me a little more reconciled to your moving in now, honest!"

He looked at me in amazement, "Oh, you were against it?"

I nodded, "Well, what am I going to lie to you about? Actually, I wanted the house all to myself, but my ex had no understanding of that!" Seeing that he seemed somehow affected, I quickly added, "But first of all, that's not your problem, and secondly, I can live with it, don't worry. I wish you all the best here and us a good neighborhood!"

"Thank you, I wish you the same!"

"Honey, we have to!" - Peep Mouse didn't care much for our fraternization and urged departure.

"If it gets loud tomorrow, I'll apologize right away, but you know, movers...!"

"No problem, so, all the best again!"

His handshake was even a touch more pleasant, and the look from his green eyes hit me right to the heart, so intense it was and somehow also questioning, curious and, but I was surely only imagining that, promising. In addition, he now roamed over my tits and I let him the second before I turned around and pushed off. I could literally feel him enjoying the sight of my tight butt, which was also really bulging quite horny under the skimpy stretch jeans. I wouldn't have needed confirmation that he was checking me out, but the nagging, "Honey, will you please come," spoke volumes and I had to grin as I unlocked the patio door and entered the living room, which suddenly seemed much brighter than it had an hour before.

"How old might this little mouse be?", I pondered, estimating her at 27, tops, while he was certainly my age. "I wonder how long it will last with these two. After all, they are engaged!" Secretly, I promised myself to do everything I could to get rid of this blonde poison. When I googled Doctor Ziebert in the evening, the whole thing became an oath, he looked so great in his white coat, surrounded by colleagues, nurses and prominent athletes on his clinic's website.

In the evening, under the covers, naked as always, I kept thinking about him, imagining what it would be like if he were lying next to me right now and what he would look like stretched out on the sheet with his tail up. Tenderly I caressed my breasts, stimulated the little warmth with my fingertips and soon a hand slid between my legs, over the smooth Venus mountain, into my wet womb. Carefully, I pushed a finger between the dainty labia and moaned as I plunged into the wet, tight hole of my pussy. I had long been lying on my back, the blanket bunched down, my legs erect and spread. I fucked myself with two fingers of my right while I kneaded my tits with my left, alternately pushing up to lick at the nipples. Faster and faster they whizzed out and in and while doing so I imagined the new neighbor lying on top of me and ramming his magic wand into my cunt. Whenever I was close to orgasm, I interrupted, shoved half my hand into my mouth, licked off the juice, meticulously and with great pleasure, imagined I was sucking on his cock and then, when the level had dropped, I continued.

After the fourth repetition, however, all was no use, I pushed my fingers into my pussy, pressed my thighs together and came. I reared back, hissing and whimpering, watching my abdominal wall twitch and bulge in time with the spasms raging inside me....

Exhausted, I let myself fall back, relaxed breathing heavily, and began to formulate a plan, a plan that required patience and had only one goal. The man had to get into my bed!

********

The first week had already shown that I truly could have done worse, with the new neighbors. He left the house at nine in the morning and didn't come back until seven. She was obviously on vacation, because she was constantly rumbling around or driving her sleek Golf convertible into town. Of course, I had googled the beeping mouse, too. She worked at an event agency in the fashion department and was described in the team on the website as an organizational talent who only didn't float down the catwalk herself because she loved the job behind the scenes much more and it demanded more of her. Well, apparently she was doing really quite well, because, as I gathered from the event calendar on the homepage, she was soon to be in Milan for two weeks, where she was helping to organize fashion week for a major designer.

When we met, the doctor and I - either in the garden or in front of the garage - we greeted each other in a friendly way, even exchanged a few words, but otherwise not much happened in the first days. The weekend was rainy, so there were hardly any opportunities to touch. Sometimes at night I heard the mouse beeping, that was probably when he was allowed to fuck her. Her bedroom bordered mine and I knew the acoustics were actually quite good. This suggested that she enjoyed rather quietly or just didn't get off on fucking as much as I did, for example.

In the middle of the second week, I think it was Thursday, I saw in the morning that Mr. Ziebert, his name was Frank by the way, was dragging two huge suitcases out of the house, and Beep Mouse was following him with a handbag. While he was guarding the luggage, she was constantly walking up and down on the phone. That didn't change when the cab pulled up. She gave him a perfunctory kiss on the cheek during the conversation, got in and didn't even wave as the Benz turned around and drove away. He watched her go until the first turn and disappeared into the house. I rubbed my hands together - here we go!

In the evening I waited until he came home. It was half past seven, a little later than usual, but logical, he was a straw widower. I thanked the Lord that he had come home at all and wasn't hanging out somewhere with friends or worse, some chick.

I gave him twenty minutes, then marched up to his front door and rang the bell.

He was in shorts and a T-shirt when he opened and looked at me a little surprised, "Mrs. Wieland, what can I do for you?"

"Oh Mr. Ziebert, I thought now that you've settled in a bit, I'd like to invite you and your fiancée to dinner. If you have time and feel like it, tomorrow around seven!"

"Thank you, you're very kind, but please, come in first!"

"No, no, I don't want to disturb you, you and your fian...!"

He waved off, "Brigitte is in Milan, I'm solo for two weeks, please come on!"

"Oh," I made in amazement as I followed him into the living room, "well then you'll just have to... alone, that is, if that's what you...!"

"Yes, gladly! I'm bored anyway when she's not around. What to bring?"

"Nothing! Just tell me what you like to drink?"

He laughed, "I'll go with you on that one. I eat everything and I drink everything and I'm happy. May I offer you something? A glass of wine perhaps, or coffee?"

"If, then wine, but I really didn't want to disturb you!"

But not at all. I was just about to turn on the TV!"

"Has your fiancée arrived yet?", I asked decently and he shrugged, "I don't know, she hasn't let me hear anything and the cell phone is turned off. The reporting thing is not so yours. Besides, things are awfully hectic in this business!"

"Yeah, yeah," I thought, "she's probably fucking her designer right now, you clueless fool!" I nodded my head in understanding and said, "Yeah, I'd rather have my quiet writer's life. There's no hustle and bustle there, as long as you halfway meet the deadlines your publisher gives you."

"What are you working on right now?"

"Oh, as usual, love, love, love! If you'd like, I can read something to you tomorrow - little private reading?"

"Oh yes, how nice. I'll be glad to!" And then he said thoughtfully, "You're a real love expert. How comes it didn't work out in real life?"

"It's probably just the same as bad teacher kids or unhealthy living doctors. Just because you know how to do it doesn't mean you're going to do it!"

"Yeah, you're right about that. So, cheers and here's to love!"

I took a sip of the excellent red and asked in turn, "And when are the wedding bells ringing for you?"

"Oh, you mean because we are engaged? That's what Brigitte wanted. She thought it would be more appropriate to say we were engaged, but we haven't talked about marriage yet. She's still too young for that and too..." and after a pause for thought, "too volatile!"

"How old is she?"

Twenty-five!" and before I could drill any further, he confessed it of his own accord, "and I thirty-six!"

"Ah, then we are the same age! I was born in October, and you?"

"In December, hi, hi, then I'm the younger one!"

I grinned, "Well, then you may also call me "you", I am Sabine!"

"And I'm Frank" - we clinked glasses and when he looked at me questioningly, I waved him off: "No, no, not today. I don't cuddle with fiancés in their apartments!"

"Oh, and you do in yours?"

"Let's see!", I said laughing and putting all the seduction and charm I could muster into my gaze. This seemed to fall on fertile ground, because he swallowed hard and his voice sounded a little rougher than before: "Well, then I'll let myself be surprised!"

Two hours later I went to bed and when I heard footsteps behind the wall that separated us, I knocked on it with all my might and shouted at the top of my lungs, "Good Niiight!"

It didn't take two seconds, the greeting came back, knocking and loud laughter, followed by a shout, "Sleep weeeell!"

*******

Satisfied, I stood in front of the mirror and looked closely at my freshly showered, creamed, naked body. In profile, the tits really still looked great, pencil test no problem, and the round butt should also be able to bring Frank's blood to boil. Also the front was still quite sweet. The nipples were quite small, but they could become rock hard. The courts, almost black and circular, contracted so violently around them when I got horny that it hurt and looked incredibly exciting. Pussy was shaved, fresh of course. No hairs would disturb any movements of fingers or tongue and butt was bleached. I had been doing this for a couple of weeks now and in fact there was no longer any difference in color between crack and cheeks - a super horny sight.

I had chosen a dress, tight-fitting and quite short, with a nice neckline. Not daring, but decidedly sexy. He should quietly know that I was keen on him - it was his problem, how he solved the situation. That's why I did without a bra and the panties were tiny, just about the size of my pubic mound and, of course, thong. If he should see me in my underwear, his cock would do an air jump when I showed him my almost naked ass.

The first thing I saw of him was a huge bunch of lilies. He must have noticed that I liked them, there were quite a few growing in my garden. The second thing was the radiant smile when he saw me. "Wow, Sabine, you look fantastic. If I had known you were going out...!"

"Ha ha, it's like going out for me when I have visitors. It needs to be appreciated accordingly. Besides, you're not exactly underdressed either!"

He was wearing dark slacks, a sandy yellow polo and a light blue sweater draped over his shoulders, looking like an Italian playboy and simply scrumptious. I would have loved to kiss him off and drag him to bed, but I had to be patient. If it was going to work, I couldn't rush things. After all, I didn't want to stand there as a cock-hungry slut, but let myself be seduced. Let's see if that worked.

Anyway, when I presented the meat - there was Saltimbocca - I allowed him a glimpse into my cleavage, which, with the right posture, exposed a considerable part of my tits and with a little luck you could even see the nipples. Apparently he had, because when I straightened up and smiled obligingly at him, he swallowed and his eyes looked a little glassy. That they then burned into my butt as I walked into the kitchen I sensed, and how complacently he looked at my legs I could see when I returned.

He enjoyed the wine, a Rioja, and we ate, drank and laughed about our nightly Morse code. "I didn't realize that the house was so light hearted," he commented and continued, "you have to think about that, in certain situations!"

I laughed insinuatingly, "It's already too late, but your fiancée is very reserved anyway. I haven't heard much from her, don't worry!"

Smiling a little painfully, he leaned back, placed the fingers of his strong hands against each other and said, "Yeah, she's not very exalted, more the cuddle type!"

"Yes, yes, everyone is different, it's nice that way too!" He had to understand, he had to grasp what I was trying to say and I added, "You probably loosen up as you get older too!"

"Well, then I still have hope!" he grinned and then asked, "Do you want me to help you clear the table. I'm already so curious about the reading!"

"No, out of the question. Make yourself comfortable on the couch there, take the wine with you. I'll make this quick and be right with you!"

With a sigh and the manuscript tucked under my arm, I plopped down next to him on the couch, pulled my legs under me and he handed me my glass. "Cheers, the food was excellent!"

"Cheers and now you may kiss me too!"

He stumbled for a moment and I laughed, "On "you"! Did you forget?"

"No, but I thought you didn't cuddle with fiancés!"

"Oh, when they're sitting on the couch with me, I don't take it so hard. After all, we know how to take it."

I turned to him and he grinned, "Well, one more glass of wine and one more look at your cleavage and I could forget all kinds of things!"

I said softly, "You're an adult, I'm an adult, no one sees us...!"

He smiled, "Don't you have a boyfriend?" And at that he put a warm hand on the back of my neck.

I moved my head back and forth, rubbing my strong fingers and shook my head, "No, Frank, not for a long time, for far too long!"

My lips were already half open when they met his and it was easy for him to slide his tongue down my throat. I sucked it in, pressed it against the roof of my mouth, sucked on it and entwined it with mine. The second hand wrapped around my waist and I dropped against his shoulder, smelling the cologne and lightly touching his thigh with the fingers of my right.

A little out of breath, we detached from each other for a moment and he looked deep into my eyes, "I want you, Sabine, I've wanted you from the first moment I saw you. Can we postpone the reading?"

I put my legs on the floor, probably noticing how far my dress slid up in the process, and smiled, "If you know something better, I'd love to!"

I turned fully toward him now, intertwining my hands in his neck and pressing him against the back of the chair, letting myself fall on top of him and seeking his mouth, greedy and hot.

Neither of us sank into a kiss and this time I felt a hand steal under my dress, travel up my thigh to the curve of my ass cheeks, linger there and begin to caress them tenderly. I sought the hem of his polo and slid under it. Gently I let my fingers wander up the flat belly to the jungle of his dense chest hair, while we chewed on each other incessantly and let our tongues play with each other.

By now he had exposed my butt, kneading his cheeks with great fervor and when I felt the flat hand slowly push between my legs, I groaned and raised my head, "Frank, come on, let's not do it here, I want to have it nice. It's been so long, two minutes doesn't matter anymore either! Let's go upstairs!"

I detached myself from him, stood up, tugged the dress into place and pulled him up. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were shining. He took me in his arms, pressed me against his broad chest and whispered, "Not that you think I do this sort of thing all the time. It's the first time I've cheated on Brigitte, but I feel it has to be done!"

I raised my head, "Don't think about it, come on!"

As soon as we entered the bedroom and saw the inviting bed, there was no stopping us, we fell over each other, I yanked on his zipper, he buried himself in my butt with both hands, then pushed my dress higher and higher and finally I gasped, "Wait, I'll do it myself!"

While I was pulling the good piece over my head, he already had the fly open and was letting the pants slide down, but froze in his movement when he saw me standing there, naked except for the panties, with swinging tits and hungry eyes.

"My God, you're beautiful!" he exclaimed, kicking himself free of shoes, pants and socks and then we were facing each other and I smiled, "Aren't you going to unwrap it?" I was really curious to see what kind of device created that sizable bulge in his boxers and the big wet spot.

He shook his head, "No, you first, please, let me look at you!"

Slowly, I reached down by my hips under the narrow ribbon that held the tiny triangle in place, pulling it down and exposing the mound of Venus. When the tender cleft became visible, he moaned softly, "My God," he said, "turn around, please!"

I gladly did him the favor, just at the moment when the band of the thong came loose from the crack and I slowly pulled it down, out of the crease between the rounded cheeks.

I slipped it off and there he was already standing behind me, embracing me with his muscular arms, putting his hands on my tits and pressing me against him. His lips slid over my neck, paused there and there and and kissed me, nibbled my ears and softly he said, "I want you, lie down!"

But I had another plan, reached behind me, with both hands inside the cotton prison and angling for the hot swollen cock. My knees buckled as I grasped it. For the first time in a year and a half, I held a flesh-and-blood cock in my hands again, and a magnificent specimen at that. Tenderly I squeezed and stroked it, turned around in a flash and sat down on the bed. With a quick movement of my hand, I slipped the shorts down and then I looked at the dick and felt my heart pounding. It was long and thick, curved upward, like a faun's. The sack with the heavy balls and his entire private parts were shaved, smooth like mine - an incredibly horny sight. Never before had I had a depilated man, and he seemed to have noticed my surprise, for he said, almost apologetically, "She insists, for hygienic reasons!"

I looked up at him, "Why, I don't care, but it looks great and," stroking the scrotum, "it feels great. Now the only question is how it tastes!"

I bent down and covered the lollipop with lots of little kisses, starting at the root, where it was covered in thick adrenaline, growing out of the soft, naked, smooth skin, all the way up to the shiny, upturned glans, wet with the drops of pleasure that seeped incessantly from the piss hole. They became my first prey. I tongued inside the urethra, retrieving silvery strands and slurping them away, licking over the silky skin again and again. Finally, I put my lips over it and shoved the magnificent cock down my throat as far as I could manage. It felt so wonderful, warm, velvety and tasted so good. I could feel my pussy getting wet and glowing and I longed for that glorious part, but I couldn't part with it. I circled it with my tongue, licked it, kissed it and stuck it deep into my gullet again and again.

"Sabine, stop it or it's too late! You're doing so well, I can't take much more!"

"Oh you stupid, then don't hold it back, come on, give me your juice! Or don't you want to!"

"I want to, but then you'll have to wait a bit!"

"Ha ha, as far as I can see you have hands and a tongue - you'll think of something to do with it. So, and now let it come. Go on, squirt in my mouth, Frank!"

Now I put my hand to it, began to jerk it tenderly but firmly, while I let my tongue run over the glans, always ready to open my mouth to let in his semen. He grabbed me by the cheeks, began to moan softly and I saw his legs begin to tremble, "Sabine," he gasped and cried out, throwing his head back and spraying the first fountains of his hot lava between my lips. I collected the charges, left them in my mouth and dipped my tongue into the hot lake. I bathed in it with pleasure and only when I realized that he had shot his powder, I let the sauce run down my gullet and enjoyed the fantastic, long-forgotten taste. No sooner had the big gulp been made than I shoved the cock of the still moaning man into my mouth, sucked the last drops out of his piss hole, kissed and licked him until he went limp and Frank was breathing normally again.

Only now I slid back onto the bed and smiled, "There, now I'm yours - do whatever you want, anything goes!"

"Really anything?" he asked with a lustful twinkle in his eye and I specified, "Anything that's fun and doesn't hurt!"

"Then I think it would be best if I check out what you taste like, don't you?"

"Yes, do that and don't hold back, I love having my pussy licked!"

With that, I spread my legs and the sight that met his eyes was obviously to his liking. He literally buried his eyes in my lap before lying down, clasping my thighs and getting his face so close to my pussy that I could feel his breath as he said, "I love it already, your lovely bud!"

When the tip of the tongue touched the labia and parted them, I cried out. All the long-awaited feelings were suddenly there - the hands on my skin, the hot breath and the velvety tongue that penetrated the pussy. All this assaulted me so strongly that I came as if out of the blue. I pressed my thighs together, wedged Frank's head between them and tore my ass off the sheet. Wildly I reared up, moaning loudly and enjoying the wild twitches in my pussy and belly. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was deliciously intense and a beautiful prelude. He lifted his head as I released him from the grip of my legs and I stammered, "Sorry, but it's been so long. My body reacts a bit quickly!"

"It doesn't matter, it was the same with me. Moving on?"

I nodded, "Yes, yes, please, you haven't really started yet!"

He dove back down, first pressing his lips to the crack and slurping away the pussy juice that had seeped copiously from my cunt during my climax. His tongue circled the clit and made me scream again. He nibbled on it, he sucked on it and he pressed his tongue against it that I already felt the first signs of total arousal again. Impetuously I kneaded the tits, licked over the nipples and enjoyed the tongue, which finally disappeared in full length in the hot column, licked along the walls and slurped my juice like wild. When he then also took two fingers to help, moving them first carefully and then more and more violently back and forth in the gap, there was no stopping him. Again an orgasm tore me off the bed, made me press my pelvis against his face and shriek like a spit.

Now he came up and I clutched him with my arms and legs. Impetuously I pressed my heels into his buttocks and whispered frantically in his ear, "What is it, can you already!"

"Yes, of course! For a long time, you exciting woman!"

"Then what are you waiting for? Come to me, I've been waiting so eagerly!"

I did nothing, I just held him, kissed him on the neck, shoulders and mouth and felt full of horniness how the cock was looking for my pussy. I came to meet him and when the glans landed between my labia, I gasped, "Thrust, Frank, thrust!"

That wonderful feeling of being impaled, that penetration of the pulsating tail into the hot hole, oh God, how I had missed and longed for that. Only now did I feel what a poor alternative such a rubber cock was, what a horrible prosthesis compared to this pulsating, hard piece of flesh that was now inside my pussy, hot and vibrating. He had enjoyed a long, passionate kiss and my intimate embrace before he began to move. At first it was only short thrusts from his hips, but they became longer and longer. Up to the glans he pulled out the dick, only to ram it deep into my pussy again and stake me. I jerked my legs up and put them over his shoulder, whereupon he straightened up and pressed them against my tits as he fucked me relentlessly. My cunt opened wide, stretched full of pleasure and gave secretion of itself as it had not in a long time.

We came at the same time and when I felt the impacts of his milk in my steaming cunt, I cried out completely uninhibited, drumming my heels against his ass and clawing hard into the protruding muscles of his broad back.

Panting and moaning, we rolled across the bed, tightly interlocked and absorbed in passionate, wet kisses. With tongues stretched wide, we licked our faces, necks and shoulders. He kissed my nipples, nibbled them tenderly and finally groaned, his face between my tits: "What an exciting woman you are. I'm enjoying this so much!"

"Ha, ha, I'm just ravenous and passionate. I don't think much of noble restraint in sex. Where are you supposed to let yourself go if not here!!!"

"Yeah," he sighed, "I guess you're right!"

"And your Brigitte, I guess she's not so loose?"

He rolled off me and stayed on his side, his head on my shoulder, "No, she's always a little uptight and well, I kind of get the impression she's really only sleeping with me because I want her to, but she doesn't care much herself!"

"Strange. Doesn't she like it when she comes or when you cum?"

"Ha, ha, we make love only with condom and swallow, she doesn't like that at all...!"

"Oh, I see, for hygienic reasons?"

"Yes, exactly, she has such a beautiful and well-groomed body. Well, too bad!"

I turned to him, "Then you'll just have to let off steam while she's not here!"

Then he suddenly became serious: "Thank you, that's sweet of you, but Sabine, I can't. I'm with her and I can't just go behind her back like that. We have to consider this a one-time thing, please!"

For a moment, I thought, my stomach turning. This couldn't be happening. There I had finally found a man with whom sleeping was pure pleasure and then this. He backed out and pulled in the cock that I had just had in my pussy. Shit, shit, shit.

I swallowed hard a few times and couldn't stop tears from welling up in my eyes. At least they weren't running down my cheeks as I picked myself up and got out of bed.

"Quite what you think, Frank, too bad. I was hoping for a little more, but I'm not going to come between you. I'm not ready for that, and I'm too old besides. I don't need that either, in spite of everything!"

Once again I stroked his cheek, "Still, it was very nice!" then I turned and said softly, "I'm going to the bathroom!"

"Sabine, please...!", I still heard, but by then I was already in the bathroom and had turned the key.

I leaned against the door and put my hands in front of my face: "Did you need that, you stupid cow?", I thought and let the tears run free. Sobbing quietly, I stood under the shower, the hot water splashing down on me and I felt his semen making its way down my thighs. Disgusted, I wiped away the traces of this ill-fated night, washed my pussy and dried myself. When I came back to the sheep room after 20 minutes, Frank had disappeared and on the dining table I found a message - he had taken a note from my shopping block in the corridor: "Dear Sabine, please try to understand me. I can't live with two women. Don't be angry. It was beautiful, Frank!"

Enraged, I crumpled up the wipe and threw it in the trash. Torn between anger, disappointment and self-pity, I poured myself a glass of wine, drank it in one go. Finally, I immediately put the bottle to my mouth and took another hearty swig.

"What do you want? It's your own fault. You just don't make a pass at a forgiven man!"

"But then he should have left right away, but first fucking me and then running away, that's the limit!"

"Man, don't you understand, you seduced him. You wanted to fuck him and you let him see your tits. What man can resist a bitch in heat like that?"

"Well, that's true again. It's just a shame, it would have been so nice with him!"

"Don't worry, you'll find another one!"

"Yeah, sure, you see how super I am at such things. Oh, leave me alone!"

Not wanting to converse with my inner voice any longer, I went to sleep, pressed my head into the pillow and fell asleep, the smell of Frank's aftershave in my nose.

******

It was hell. We avoided each other during the next few days. I only left the house when I knew he was at the clinic, which was between ten and eighteen o'clock, and he looked longingly at my windows every time he left or came home.

Twice he rang my front doorbell, first thing in the morning after our messed up night and then again, the following weekend, I think Saturday night. I didn't open the door, why should I? It was a matter of waiting out the few days until Piepmaus was back. He would fuck her hygienically clean and everything would go its course. Then I could also let myself be seen again and give him a friendly wave when we met in the garden or in the driveway. But at the moment that wasn't possible. I was simply afraid of bursting into tears or falling around his neck. Not a night went by that I didn't think about him, about him and his magnificent cock. Not once was I tempted to bang on the wall when he went to bed, but since he didn't either, I refrained.

I wondered what was going on inside him, if he was sorry, if he was proud of the fact that he had gotten me laid and of the fact that he had proven himself to be a faithful, well, semi-faithful fiancé? I didn't know and I didn't care. No, I didn't. I really would have liked to know, but I couldn't very well ask him.

From Thursday of the second week I was almost constantly hanging around the window - I wanted to know when hygienic Brigitte was coming home, but she kept me on tenterhooks. It became Friday, it became Saturday and yes, only on Sunday towards evening a cab stopped in front of her door.

I would have missed it by a hair if it hadn't been for her voice, which was loud: "Honey, I'm home!"

She was standing in the driveway, and the two suitcases had been joined by lots of plastic bags. Piepmaus had probably done some shopping in Milan and the master of the house did not appear to greet her. What a pity.

Only after the shouting had already turned into hysterical screeching did the door open and Frank came out. Even at a distance I could see that he looked pale and his movements seemed somehow choppy, almost wooden. The kiss of welcome was also strange. She put her hands on the back of his neck, but he bent around the suitcases at that moment and lifted them up, forcing her to let go of him again and merely give him an unsuccessful smack on the cheek.

He marched into the house, she followed him with the bags, and away they went.

"Well," I sighed, "I guess there'll be a good welcome fuck now. I hope he at least has a guilty conscience!"

Forgetting myself, I stared at the setting sun and thought sad thoughts, when a sudden loud scream reached my ear and at about the same time a cab drove up.

I quickly tilted the window at my lookout in the kitchen and heard how Piepmaus now not beeped at all, but hysterically nagged: "... go but to the old cow with her tits, you ass. There are enough men waiting for me, younger ones like you and richer ones, I can choose, you wanker, I'll get the stuff tomorrow, make sure you're not at home. Go on, run to the bitch!"

Then she gave him the middle finger and threw herself into the cab, which, not at all in keeping with the scene, drove away leisurely.

I thought I was dreaming. Could this really be? Did the bitch and the cow with tits mean me? What had he done?

When I saw that he was heading for my front door with a grim face, my heart suddenly started to race and I didn't know what to do. Seconds later the doorbell rang and at the same time I heard Frank's voice: "Sabine, open up, I know you're there. Please, open up!"

With soft knees, I staggered to the door and unlocked it. He stood there, jaws grinding on each other, but his eyes had a suspicious gleam.

"What do you want, Frank, what happened?"

He looked at me piercingly, "I told you, I can't live with two women. One is gone. Does your request still apply that I can do anything with you that's fun and doesn't hurt?"

I fell around his neck and he lifted me up, hugging me to him and giving me just enough time to lock up.

Five minutes later we were naked, rolling tightly on the sheet, and I gasped after a first, incredibly passionate and tender kiss, "What did you tell her, for God's sake?"

"The truth! That I slept with you, that it was classes better than with her and I don't want to do without it anymore. I wanted to tell you all this before, but you weren't available to me anymore!"

"And how did you know it would be me now?"

"I didn't know, I hoped and figured you weren't an actress and both your passion and tears were real. So I had to do it, besides I was going to break up with Brigitte anyway. That night with you opened my eyes!"

But then it was the end of talking, almost roughly he turned me around, threw me on my stomach and started kissing and licking me from top to bottom, from neck to toes. This lasted almost an hour and brought me two really horny climaxes. When he then asked me, "So, Sabine, and now kneel down," I shuddered and asked in a trembling voice, "What are you up to?" but he just laughed, "You'll experience it, and don't worry, it's fun and doesn't hurt!"

That wasn't quite true, because the moment when he broke through the ring muscle with his magnificent spanking, that made me cry out briefly, but then it was pure fun. After the first load of sperm landed in the intestine, I knew my nights would no longer be boring and I could throw the dildos in the trash. I had the cock of my dreams.

******

My study is now back in the other half of the house, Frank lives with me and we sleep in my bed, every night and it's a treat every night. I wonder if it's love. I have no idea, but back when I thought it was love, I was terribly disappointed. I decided to stop thinking about it and enjoy sex instead. I do that to the fullest and if that fits, then there must be something like affection involved. Who sleeps with someone so intense and without taboo if he does not like the other very much?