Part One

Over the last six months, my neighbor's marriage seems to have taken a turn for the worse. I moved next door to them about a year ago after my divorce settled, so I can't say that I know what the benchmark for their relationship should be, but they seem more stressed than when I first met them. What used to be infrequent arguing had now become a regular occurrence that occasionally spilled out onto their screened sunroom, where the windows were always open to my eavesdropping ears.

She is a pretty, young, brunette woman in her late twenties with a slender frame. She was a nice enough girl but had always come across as a bit of a bimbo to me in our limited conversations. He is about the same age as her with the same color hair and a beer gut. Despite their shortcomings, they seem to be good people and for the most part, they were good neighbors, when they aren't fighting.

Most of the arguments take place inside their house. Those aren't so bad, as all I can hear were muffled, raised voices. On the occasions that they ended up in the sunroom, it was usually from one of them trying to walk away and being chased by the other who insisted on having the last word. It was during these times that I inadvertently got more insight into their issues. Normally, relationship stuff would bore the hell out of me but having gone through a divorce recently, my mind was drawn to the growing tension between them.

He is a quiet man and usually maintains an awareness of the proximity of the neighbors and how far voices travel, but when she gets riled up and angry, he doesn't mind behaving accordingly. She tended to be the one to escalate things, but I knew enough to know that wasn’t always the same thing as being the cause of the escalation. He was more patient than she was and he used it like a weapon, baiting her into overreacting to situations in an attempt to make her look irrational compared to himself. Most of the time he tended to avoid her when things weren't friendly between them, instead of confronting an awkward silence and initiating a hard conversation.

He worked a lot. He worked in construction full-time, but also did some work on evenings and weekends with friends as often as he could get the extra jobs. He was a hard worker and seemed to be good at what he did from the various crafts and projects he would tinker with in the garage in his spare time. I tried to avoid thinking the obvious thought about him in regards to their relationship as of late, that he was taking her for granted. It wasn't my place to judge him, and I didn't know the whole story, but regrets from my failed marriage were still on my mind and it was a thought I couldn't avoid for long when I saw the two of them interact.

I like to think of myself as a good neighbor, good enough at least, so I ignore as much as I can. I pretend I can't hear her complain about how much he worked, or how little time he spent with her recently. In my past relationships, I was always careful to keep my dirty laundry inside the house, so my annoyance with them perhaps has more to do with a clash of personalities than anything else. I am less than a year and a half away from my divorce being finalized so perhaps I am not the best judge of a healthy situation.

It was a Saturday morning when my relationship with them would take an interesting turn. I had just finished hanging wet clothes on a laundry rack on my deck and was about to enjoy a joint with the last few sips of coffee I had left when I overheard their latest ruckus.

“We were supposed to spend the day together! You're never home anymore. How are we supposed to?...” Her frustrated words were cut off by his curt reply.

“Goddammit, Jane! Not today with that shit, please. I need a break.” He was walking away from her as he spoke, his body language told her he was done participating in the conversation.

Though she wasn’t happy with this response, she had no choice but to let it go as he nonchalantly got into his truck and left. I tried to stay still, hoping she wouldn't see me, but it was impossible to ignore her gaze from where I was sitting on my deck stairs as she spun angrily away from her driveway.

She seemed like she wanted to scream before she saw me and got a little embarrassed that I had overheard. She chuckled in a frustrated tone and then an odd look came over her face as she asked if I would share the joint in my hand.

'Fuck.' The word echoed around my skull as she took a step towards me. The last thing I wanted to do that morning was listen to her venting or a re-enactment of the argument. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt because she looked like she could use a smoke and I didn't feel like being an asshole on such a fine day. So I agreed to share.

She pointed her head towards the open garage side door, I had seen the two of them go to their detached garage to smoke before, so I finished the last of my coffee and got up to join her. She explained that she wanted to stay out of sight since her husband's parents lived nearby. If they drove past and saw her smoking a joint, she would never hear the end of it. While this seemed like an odd thing for a grown woman to worry about, I understood what it was like to be nervous about one's in-laws, so I didn't push the matter.

Their garage was only single car size, and mostly full of her husband's woodworking equipment. She turned the light on, and my eyes were drawn to her. I had never really spent much time checking her out before. While she was certainly an attractive woman, she was a bit skinny for my taste. This combined with the fact that she seemed kind of annoying, led me to ignore her for the most part but once I got a good look at her, I was reminded how sexy she was.

I probably hadn't been this close to her in months. She leaned back against a workbench. She had more curves than my biased eyes gave her credit for, she wore dark blue sweatpants that hugged her hips in a way that made me almost forget why I could ever be annoyed at her. She wore a red tank top; at this distance, it was hard to miss her perky breasts. She pushed her chest out slightly, encouraging my eyes to wander about her body. There was no doubt she was a beautiful woman.

After a moment of silent gazing, she teasingly asked if I had brought a lighter. I held up the one in my hand as I put the joint in my mouth and lit it. She looked at me with dark brown eyes that were even more suggestive than the way she pushed her chest out at me. I took a deep puff and handed it to her as I gently coughed the first smoke of the day into the crook of my arm.

I looked at her as she inhaled. She looked sexy as she took a hit and held it in briefly before exhaling. She looked me in the eyes in an inquisitive manner as she took a small, second puff. She handed the joint back to me with a light cough, her gaze made me think she wanted me to make a move. I took another big hit and held it in before passing it back.

Since my divorce, I had spent a lot of time working out in my basement gym to fill up the empty time and deal with stress. Her husband spent no time at the gym, I never judged the man for it though, as he was busy and had a full life. For the most part, I work out to feel better, not to look better, but it was at times like this that I would let my ego sink into my outward behavior more than normal. I could feel her eyes on my biceps, chest, and shoulders and I flexed them more than usual. She took a hit of the joint and handed it back to me.

Her fingertips lingered on my hand after I grasped the joint from her; I held it there to stretch the moment out a bit longer before bending my elbow to bring the joint to my lips. She smiled at me and gracefully slipped her fingers down the back of my hand and up my arm without hindering my movements at all. I took a hit and let her fingers slide up my arm.

Her move wasn't at all subtle, but it had been well played. The way that she looked at me with a slightly raised eyebrow and mischievous grin, she looked so damned cute that I was putty in her hands. I stepped a bit closer so that she didn't have to reach for my shoulders.

Her touches quickly moved past suggestive to blatantly sexual as her hands explored my upper body. My senses were reeling, partially from the joint but mostly from her attention. I wanted this to continue, but against the advice of the devil on my shoulder, I hesitated and spoke up. Albeit in a tone that I knew would make my interest obvious.

“What's going on here?” I asked in a low tone. My divorce had left me rather cynical, I had no qualms about fooling around with a married woman, but I wanted to hear her say it, for my pride and also to ease my conscience for the next time that her husband invited me over for a beer in this very same garage.

“Having some fun, I hope.” She spoke in a sultry voice that sounded filthy yet innocent at the same time. Her hands had become stationary on my chest now, as she waited for my response. I leaned closer to her and put the unfinished joint into a nearby ashtray. I put a hand on either side of her on the workbench, an inch or two away from her hips while I searched for the right words.

“Is that so?” I asked teasingly, as I moved my left hand to her hip while I ran the other upwards across her back, stopping when I hit bare skin where the tank top ended. The warmth and smoothness of her skin was comforting and arousing. She moved her hand down my chest and slowly turned her fingertips from pointing up to down in a way that almost made me beg her to continue. Instead of begging, I leaned in to kiss her.

I was trying not to rush into her panties too quickly, but she had no such hesitancy about reaching into my pants. She hummed with a tone of enjoyment and satisfaction as she pushed my flannel pajama pants as far down as her reach would allow.

She jerked me off slowly and sensually while we kissed. She slipped a bit of her tongue into my mouth and gingerly teased my own with it, I was enthralled by her at this point, and I gripped her ass firmly while we kissed. Soon she pushed me back and dropped down to her knees in front of me, I had stepped out of my pants altogether, so I stood in just my shirt while she began to kiss and lick my now fully erect penis. I could tell she was horny and excited, but she wasn't rushing. She gently licked the head and teased a little bit of it into her mouth, making me want more, but it felt so good I dared not interfere with her pace.

I let her continue, while I started to work my hands through her hair. It had a slept-on, then brushed-out look and feel to it that was a bit disheveled but drove me wild. I had lived alone since my divorce, and it had been too long since I had been with an 'everyday woman'. I had met some ladies through various dating apps who were all lovely people, with whom I had some fun and sexy times. Those women had spent time and effort to look how they did but Jane had probably put on the first semi-clean clothes she found after rolling out of bed. It had a sense of real life to it, and I loved it.

She slipped the full head of my dick into her mouth and slowly worked her way as far down to the base as she could. I pulled my shirt off and dropped it next to my pants as she started working back up to the head again. She kept a slow pace, and it accentuated the feeling of her lips as they slid across each centimeter of my shaft, she moaned softly while I was inside her mouth, and it turned me on more and more with each sexy noise she made.

I tugged at the shoulder strap of her tank top and told her to take it off. She was happy to comply and quickly placed it with my clothes. Her breasts looked amazing out in the open, smaller than I was used to, but they were well-rounded and big enough to have a slight jiggle when she moved. I could have stared at them longer, but my gaze was diverted back to her lips, as she wrapped them around my dick again and started to speed up.

She sucked me off as if she hadn't seen a cock in weeks, the sound of her wet lips sliding relentlessly over my dick was almost drowned out by her moaning on it. I could have let her keep going until I finished, but she was so worked up and horny now that she couldn't deny herself any longer.

She stood up and pulled her sweatpants and panties off in one quick motion as soon as she was on her feet. The workbench behind her was clean so I picked her up, sat her on it, and pulled her to the edge. She eagerly spread her thighs for me and welcomed my fingers into her loins. I slowly worked my index up and down her moist labia while I listened to her increasing moaning.

She moaned quietly at first as I savored her growing wetness. I rubbed small, gentle circles on her clitoris with my right hand while I stroked her nipples with my left. After they were fully stiff, I moved my hand down and slowly inserted my index finger halfway inside. Her moaning sounded more urgent with each passing second, as my fingers continued their work on her.

“That feels so good. Tom never touches me like that.” Her words reached into the darkest parts of my mind and fed into the jealous, petty, and selfish thoughts I had been dealing with since my divorce. Hearing her praise for my finger work, and how it was better than her husband's gave me an immense amount of satisfaction and left me wanting more.

“I'll bet he doesn't eat pussy like I do either,” I spoke with a cocky attitude, as I crouched down a bit to get my face at the right height to lick that sweet clit of hers.

I put my mouth on her, and she moaned louder as my tongue found its way to her clitoris. I put a finger back inside and gently worked it in and out while I licked. Once my tongue and finger synchronized with each other a little better, she leaned back on her hands to brace herself.

“Oh! Yes. That's a good spot. I can't remember the last time Tom made me feel this good.” Her dismissive attitude toward her husband made my dick even harder. I had never fooled around with another man's wife before. While I was a little disturbed by how horny it had made me. I couldn't ignore the intense desire I had to fuck this woman.

I pulled myself away from her, the disappointment in her eyes vanished when she saw me grab my dick by the base and step towards her. I rubbed the head on her labia to feel its wetness while she moaned softly. After a few more seconds of teasing, I slowly slipped it inside her.

She hummed and moaned while I began a slow thrusting pace into her. We held each other in an intimate embrace while I slowly fucked her, the warmth of her body and her breathing on my neck welcomed me deeper into her depths.

“Push a little faster.” She whispered in a tone that wasn't pleading but was urgent. I loosened my hug around her and placed one hand on her back while the other slid down to her waist, I started to thrust at a moderate pace. She moaned without any care about whoever may hear, it was a sweet sound, I could listen to her lusty moaning all morning. Each little noise she made seeped away at my stamina.

I could feel an orgasm coming that I wouldn't be able to hold off for long. I wanted to wait until after she finished, but the reality of the situation wouldn't allow for such pleasantries. I continued for another couple of thrusts before I announced my orgasm.

As I started to step away to pull out of her, she brought her legs up and locked them around my waist to prevent me.

“No,” she whispered breathlessly to me. I was confused by this, but my window of opportunity to refuse her was short-lived and I gladly let...