“Let’s go for a walk,” she said suddenly.
“A walk,” I moaned, “why can’t we keep laying here in the hammock and snuggle?”
She guffawed due to me changing my voice to sound like a spoiled brat.
“I am serious,” she said as she turned and sat her feet on the ground.
“Ok, ok, you big bully. We will go for a walk.”
I had to admit, it was a good day for a walk. I am not a cold-weather person, fighting fires in the wintertime, helped me determine my love of warmer weather.
Don’t get me wrong, wearing all of the gear, and performing all of the tasks on the fire ground in the warmer weather drains all of your strength. But, nothing a little water or sports drink can’t fix.
The cold weather is a different story.
Once you exit the structure after fighting a fire, the gear is drenching wet, insulation and whatever else people use to keep the cold out and the heat in the home is clinging to every part of your body, and your face mask is usually fogged up and covered with soot and grime.
The cold air comes in contact with the wet fire gear and creates an instant firefighter popsicle. While on the scene, firefighters will begin to walk around stiff-legged, arms held out, with air tanks frozen. Typically on the first fire that creates the walking popsicles, someone will walk around with their arms held out to their sides saying; “I can’t put my arms down,” à la Randy from The Christmas Story.
However, it was a nice warm autumn day to take a walk and that is what we did, hand in hand.
It appeared that everyone on the block decided to take advantage of the weather and complete yard work. The sounds of leaf blowers whining, rakes scrapping, kids yelling, and parents chastising filled the air.
We had walked two blocks, crossed the street, and began to walk back towards our houses when we heard, “Hey, neighbors!”
Mommy neighbor was standing next to a pile of leaves with a rake in her hands.
I stood back as the two ladies embraced and exchanged, “How are you and you look so cute.”
Both were wearing leggings, an oversized sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. I enjoyed the view of seeing them stand together talking. Fortunately, there was no jealousy between the two of them. They knew I found both of them attractive but mommy neighbor was married and I would not do anything without the consent of my girl and mommy neighbor.
As I stood watching them talk, my mind began to reminisce about the past few weeks.
The three of us had masturbated while in the same room on a few occasions. No one touched the other per mommy neighbor’s request. She said it did not feel like she was cheating on her husband if we were touching ourselves.
There were times we stroked and rubbed ourselves at the same time, reaching orgasms one after another. Each one triggering the other to cross the apex of sexual bliss.
Other times, I would stay clothed, sit in a chair at the end of my bed, and they would lay down and let their juices flow knowing I would sleep in the wet spots they created. They thought it was strange and had even said it was gross until I explained my thoughts.
“I have two sexy, erotic, beautiful, sensual, and horny women in my life. To have you excited in front of me and willing to show me your sexual desires is beyond belief. What is the difference between laying in a bed after sex and the two of you leaving your scent and sex for me to enjoy overnight?”
“I wish my husband would talk to me and express his feelings,” mommy neighbor said, “Knowing your thoughts makes many things not seem odd. I actually enjoy being seen naked by the two of you. You both look at me and with pleasure and without judgment.”
My thoughts were interrupted by an overly loud voice saying; “Who have we here?”
I am surprised I did not get an instant migraine headache with how far I rolled my eyes in my head. Both ladies chuckled at my actions, then mommy neighbor turned and introduced us to her husband. She explained how she and my girl are good friends and we are neighbors from down the street and we were seeing one another.
Typically, when I am introduced to someone I am meeting for the first time, I don’t blurt out that I am a firefighter. Women, for the most part, do not ask what I do for a living after introductions. Men, however, ask soon thereafter so they can begin the bragging and chest-puffing ritual of male dominance.
One thing I have learned with my tenure in the fire service, there will always be someone better, tougher, smarter, and has experienced more harrowing situations than me. Just ask them.
Mommy neighbor’s husband was no exception.
We did the customary shaking of hands and nice to me you. Without a pause, he asked what I did for a living.
“I work with an independent contractor doing handyman work and light construction,” I answered.
“Well, people gotta make a living I guess,” he huffed, “I am a regional sales rep for an internationally known business machine company.”
“That is just his part-time job, he is a career firefighter. He pretty much works two full-time jobs,” My girl retorted.
I inwardly winced at her trying to defend and protect my honor. I made a mental note to tell her how I couldn’t care less what that guy or any person thought of me or what I do. However, I did appreciate her desire to show how proud she is of me and what I do.
I tried to apologize and let mommy neighbor know I did not blame her for what was about to follow, with my look.
It felt as if all of the surrounding air were being pulled into his lungs creating a cyclonic effect. He was gathering breath in order to proclaim all of the life saving heroic deeds he had accomplished throughout his lifetime. Many times the exploits vomited from the mouths of men like this included how they had to tell the firefighters what to do because they stood around and did nothing. It never failed, in their rendition of the story, they saved the person’s life.
“…so I yanked open the door, undid her seatbelt, I picked her up and carried her away from the car. I knew it was going to blow up because it was catching fire. I saw the smoke coming from the dashboard. The idiot firemen didn’t even spray the car when they got there, so I went and grabbed the big gulp cup from my truck, I filled it up with water from the ditch and I splashed it on the dashboard.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him, his efforts were useless. The smoke that usually rises from a dashboard after an accident is typically the dust and residual powder from the airbag deployment. No need to worry about spontaneous infernos that would melt the eyelids. Plus, if the lady had hurt her neck, he would have caused more damage when he moved her without the proper techniques in stabilizing her spine.
But, I have been through this song and dance numerous times in my life. I stood and listened to the puffy chested, narcissistic, sales rep spew forth his exploits with patience and a smile.
After he ended his heroic proclamations, he attempted to talk about more “manly” topics that included his high school sports achievements. Between his self indulging and self complimenting words, he would demean and degrade mommy neighbor.
“Don’t you think you are kinda too big to be wearing leggings,” or, “Maybe you should get a bigger sweatshirt so it will cover that big butt?”
He would laugh at his words and nudge me in a jovial way after making his degrading remarks.
Typically, I keep my comments to myself but, I could not let him say those things and demean her that way in front of us. Plus, my girl and mommy neighbor were very close in size. Neither one could be considered skinny. They were healthy, both had a tummy that was not flat, waists that gave them a sensual curve, and meaty, spankable bottoms.
“Being married to such an attractive wife,” I began, “I would be careful with what you say. There are many guys out there that would try to sweep her off of her feet. Plus, talk like that could make it pretty cold under the sheets.”
He guffawed and responded with, “She is lucky she has me, no-one would make an effort to try and get her.”
The two ladies had been talking to one another a few feet away, however, I was quite sure they heard everything we had said.
“Well, don’t let us keep you from your walk,” said mommy neighbor, “We need to finish yard work then figure out what we will have for dinner.”
Begrudgingly I shook her husband’s hand, gave her a quick hug, then with a quick wink I said, “Be seeing you.”
Later that evening, as I was walking my girl to her door, she got a text message from mommy neighbor. She laughed, replied, then turned the phone to me so I could read the message.
“That was so mean! When he said, ‘Be seeing you’ then winked at me, my knees went weak and I lost my breath. Bite his sack for me as punishment. kisses.”
“Lol, he likes the pain so we will have to come up with another idea for a punishment. kisses.” She replied.
We laughed at the text and joked about how she could not punish me because I found everything she did erotic and exciting.
We kissed goodnight and before I turned to leave she reached out and pulled my hand causing me to turn towards her.
“Thank you for what you said,” she said quickly.
“Said about what,” I questioned.
“About how he needs to be careful with what he says about her. She really is a beautiful, sexy, and wonderful person. He just doesn’t see that.”
“Well, it’s hard for him to see her when all he sees is himself. I try not to say anything negative about anyone, but, that guy is a douchebag. I have felt a little guilt in watching another man’s wife and allowing her to see me, but now, there is no guilt. I thought he was trying to count in Roman numerals with the amount of “I’s” he was saying.”
She laughed and said, “I noticed that. Plus the way he tried to one-up you about all of his life-saving heroics.”
“Yeah, about that, if you wouldn’t mind, try not to put it out there so quickly that I am a firefighter. That is the common response to those that feel their manhood is being threatened by the presence of someone that does my line of work. Typically I stand there and smile.”
“Sorry about that,” she said, “but he really bothered me with how he wrote you off as a nobody and started talking about how important he thought he was.”
“You know me, she knows me. Why would I worry about what he thinks of me? Do you think he will change her opinion of me with his words?”
“No, I don’t think he could change her opinion of anything.” She said laughing.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” I said as I leaned down to kiss her.
“Goodnight, babe,” she replied.
The next week was filled with fun and flirty group texts between the three of us. They would send silly and sometimes sexy pictures while I was on shift, trying to make me so excited I would have to go to the bathroom and stroke myself. I let them know it worked a few times and told them they will be punished for teasing me that way.
On Wednesday of the following week, mommy neighbor sent us a text saying she needed a date night.
“Hubby will be gone on business. He leaves Friday morning and will not be back until Sunday morning. I can get a baby sitter for Friday and Friday night.”
We decided to go out to dinner instead of making it ourselves. I insisted that dinner was on me and they had no say in the matter.
When it was time to leave, I walked over, knocked on the front door, and waited. A few seconds passed then I heard, “Come in.”
I opened the door to find them both standing in the living room, hands on their hips, one knee cocked, and sultry looks on their faces. They both wore strapless dresses that were mid-thigh in length. I wore a comfortable fitting suit with a necktie. They had helped one another with their hair and makeup at my girl’s house.
“Do we even have to leave,” I asked as I walked over and gave them a kiss on their cheeks?
“You both look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Sir,” they replied in unison.
“Yes we have to leave,” said my girl, “I am hungry.”
She laughed, picked up her purse then wrapped her arm in mine as I escorted them to the car.
We were careful when we were seen in public. I never got too close to mommy neighbor or did anything that could be construed as anything intimate while we were out. Even though I couldn’t care less what her husband thought, I did care about her and didn’t want her to have the stress and grief of neighbors talking and gossiping.
After dinner, I walked them to the door of my girl’s house, told them good night then went to my house via the front door. The neighbors across the street were voyeurs in their own way. They were the “Nosy newsy neighbors”. Whenever they heard a noise, car door, or voices, they were at their window looking out to ascertain all information available.
So, I made sure I was seen dropping the two ladies off and walking back to my house.
Once inside, I changed clothes into something comfortable and waited on the text letting me know when they were ready for me to come back over.
About thirty minutes elapsed when I received, “Back door is unlocked. She wants to watch you enter me tonight.”
Each time we have had a date night, it had always consisted of masturbation or naughty talk. Sometimes we were all naked and playing with ourselves, other times one or two played with themselves while the other watched. This was a different dynamic and I was excited.
I heard them in the guest bedroom once I closed and locked the back door. Instantly my hand went to my crotch and adjusted myself. Pavlov was a genius, I thought.
As I stood in the doorway to the guest bedroom, I decided I could not enter the room clothed due to the scene I witnessed.
Mommy neighbor was on the bed, legs open, slowly pushing and pulling a dildo in her wet lips. She had her face turned towards my girl that was sitting in a chair next to the bed, inserting her plug while rubbing her clit.
I walked over and stood behind the chair, lowered one hand to her chin, tilting it back, then leaned down, and explored her mouth with my lips and tongue.
After I pulled away I heard my girl emit a slight grunt then “oh”, indicating the plug was in place.
Mommy neighbor had increased the tempo of pushing and pulling when I stood next to the chair and my girl began to kiss, lick, and suck the head of my wet cock. My hips were thrusting in short movements pushing myself farther and farther into her mouth and throat.
Her rubbing became intense the longer she sucked and my hardness increased due to her mouth and the sound of her wetness. I looked over to mommy neighbor in time to watch her lift her legs, curl her toes, and allow herself to reach her first of many orgasms she would have that night.
My girl stood, grabbed my hands, and directed me to sit in the chair. Fortunately, the chair was not very high off the floor and did not have any sides which allowed her to straddle me and rest her feet on the floor.
Once she directed my hardness into her swollen, wet lips, mommy neighbor moaned and returned to her self probing while adding a small vibe on her clit.
I would look into my girl’s eyes, then over at mommy neighbor, then my girl’s hard nipples as her bouncing breasts teased me.
“I want to see her,” said my girl as she stood up.
She turned around, rested her hands on my bent knees, then lowered herself onto me once again.
This time, my eyes were able to enjoy the view of mommy neighbor, a blue sparkling plug, and my girl’s lips stretching as she continued to ride me.
The sounds and smells of sex filled the air. It was an intoxicating affront to the senses.
My fingers dug deeply into her hips as I slammed her down on me when I could not hold back any longer. She leaned forward and rested one hand on the bed as she rubbed herself to a climax with her other hand. Mommy neighbor joined us in the orgasmic bliss as she pressed her feet into the bed, lifted her hips, and held the dildo deep inside her as she droned, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming”.
The results of our union dripped out of my girl, onto my thighs, cock, and sack when she stood. I laid back and welcomed the kiss she offered as she leaned over the chair. She kissed my lips, licked then kissed my neck, licked, kissed, and bit my nipples, then positioned herself between my legs as she kissed and licked my throbbing cock.
Mommy neighbor was sitting on the side of the bed at this time, legs open, slowly rubbing her swollen clit. I looked at her and winked. She gave a shudder and licked her lips.
After swirling her tongue around my head as well as inserting and flicking her tongue in my slit, my girl swiped our mixture of sex on her finger and coated my cock with it.
She moved her body from between my legs and moved to the side. While looking at mommy neighbor, she licked the wetness on my now hard cock from base to tip. Mommy neighbor responded with shaking legs and a head tilting, eyes closed, orgasm.
When she returned from the land of orgasmic wonder, my girl recoated my cock with our residual cream, turned to her, and asked, “Would you like a taste?”
“Yes, ma’am,” was all she said as she lowered herself to her knees.
