At around 11:15 in the morning I heard a knock on the door. My house, a Ranch with a bay window, doesn't allow one to look out its front windows without being spotted from the front porch; I was forced to open the door and have a conversation with whoever was on the other side.
'Let's make this quick,' I thought to myself, as I unlocked the door and swung it open.
"Hi, Scott!" said Linda, with a sunny smile on her face.
"Oh, Hi," I let out, not really sure what to say to my neighbor of ten years, the Milf with three kids who I'd had a secret crush on since the day they moved in. The woman was completely radiant, a rare beauty of thirty-two years that stood out even on this rainy day.
"Sorry to bother you," she said, with the same smile, "but I was baking cookies and I don't have any butter."
"I-we-I think we have some, lemme look," I said as I turned and walked inside. "You can come in if you want," I said as she followed me in anyway.
"Thanks for your help. The kids are at school and Steve's at work, and I just didn't feel like going out today."
I got four sticks out of the fridge, handed them to her and then stood there awkwardly for a second until she said: "wanna come over for a cookie?" An awkward laugh accompanied the offer, and I said, "sure." Strange. Why is she inviting me over? And only me? Our family and their family had family barbecues, but it was never this personal between her and I.
Cookies. And why not? I had nothing better to do, it was her house, and she offered, so if anything became weird or awkward at least I had that as an out.
I followed her home to get out of the rain, making small talk all the way. When we got inside, I found that all her windows were shut, pretty much isolating us completely from the outside world. It was dark but you could see fairly well.
As soon as I had entered the back pavilion I knew that something had changed about her demeanor. She was just acting differently.
With what I perceived as genuine loneliness, Linda said, "Thanks for coming over to keep me company."
"No problem," I said, all nonchalant.
"I've been pretty lonely, but I can't work right now with all that's going on with the kids, so I stay home and do the housewife thing."
Another smile, the same as the others.
"I bet you get pretty lonely too, without school or work to keep you busy," she said as we walked to the kitchen.
"It's going to end soon for me," I said, making a reference to college starting.
"How's the family," I asked. Genius. I sound like some corny old man.
"Good, the kids are loving the school district. Steve works a lot and we don't get along very well anymore."
Blunt. She definitely wasn't kidding. I found it strange that she would bring up that issue, so I was going to let it slide, when the entire day got weirder.
"He hasn't had sex with me for two years," with another laugh, a frustrated, disbelieving one.
I was shocked. Not only shocked that she had brought it up, so abruptly, but that she had mentioned it to me, the topic of conversation being so starkly different from what we had been talking about seconds earlier. Was this a sexual advance? And what should I say back? There was nothing I could think to say except "Why?"
"I don't know. We've just grown apart. Sometimes I think it would be nice to be reminded that I'm still appreciated."
Damn. This might just have been the golden opportunity I had been waiting for.
"I'm sure Steve still appreciates you. He might have a hard time showing it." I was now playing the role of guidance counselor, and hopefully I was doing it well.
"Maybe you're right, but I still wonder why he doesn't want to have sex." Linda seemed to be pressing the sex issue a lot. I figured I would try a new approach.
"Maybe he's having an affair." I said this with no more emotion than usual, and the implications of what I had said, although lost on me, were certainly not lost on this desperate housewife, who immediately gave me a look of shock and disbelief. I imagine that if I'd looked in a mirror I would have the same face. What had I just suggested?
"Haha, Scott...I...ha," was all she let out. "Scott, I don't know..." with a nervous laugh she slowly shook her head back and forth, looking into my eyes, not sure if she was reading the situation right. "I don't know." A deep breath, while she continued to look at me, as my exterior faded to an obvious loss of confidence.
With a sigh, another shake of the head, she said "Scott I..." and trailed off again. Suddenly she stopped and straightened. "Maybe you're right," she said. "I wonder if we could find out."
"Together?" I asked. "I've got some time to kill." It was true. I had all the time in the world.
"How can we find out?" asked Linda, and I realized I didn't know either. Then she had an idea. "How about phone records? His cell phone bill has to be around here somewhere," and on this suggestion, we began the hunt.
***
Bitterness. Anger. Resentment. Hurt pride. All these emotions she wore on her face, and they clouded the radiance that had been there earlier.
"I can't believe he's been doing this to me. I'm going to kill, KILL that son of a bitch," her tone intense, her eyes burning with fire and rage. For the first time in a few hours of my encounter with my neighbor I was at a loss for words. At least she wasn't crying. Yet.
We sat there, in her kitchen, for a few more moments, in silence. The phone record search had proven to be almost too good of an idea; it only took us two hours to find out that the number Steve called every day after work belonged to one of his female coworkers. This coworker we then found on the internet, and Linda's ease at opening Steve's e-mail and finding out that they had been having correspondences (of a sexual nature, of course), proved to her, beyond a reasonable doubt, that Steve had been cheating.
After a few more moments of silence, I said, "maybe you shouldn't think about killing him just yet."
"Why not?" was her angry reply.
"You could get even. Cheat on him. That way you can get your revenge AND have sex," casually slipped this in, in case she didn't think of it herself.
She turned her head, her head only, and looked me in the eye. Maybe I had pushed it with the sex comment.
"So I got my point across about being horny. Interesting." She was using more and more sexually explicit language, and directing it straight at me.
"Alright. Ok." That was all I got. No questions about what I had said. She knew what she wanted, and she was going to get it. "That does actually sound like a good idea." Excitement was just barely audible in her voice.
"Come to the basement," she motioned with her hand and a nod of her head. Jackpot.
The neighbor's basement had a back room with washer and dryer, and this is where she led me. She immediately knelt in front of me and started to unbutton my pants. Her forwardness at this point was astounding. It was if a switch had been flipped; her husband was going to get more than he bargained for with his infidelity, as Linda was seeing to it. She unzipped my jeans and quickly pulled them and my boxers down to about mid-thigh. My half-hard cock hung out in front of her face, and she gazed at it, mystified at what was probably the first cock she had seen in a few years.