Ours was a comfortable and safe neighborhood, a small modest middle-class subdivision where families quickly found each other and took turns rotating play dates and sleepovers.  Each child of mine found their favorite family and formed early friendships that would last for years. Of course, the children brought us moms together where we got acquainted and grew to enjoy each other's company in friendship; in some cases creating lasting bonds of camaraderie and connection.

Now, I have always been attracted to beautiful, charismatic, creative women.  I love women who possess charm and self-possession, gracious and poised women who embodied their values and parented from a foundation of faith and virtue.  I have never felt shame or shied away from my attractions as I always felt that it was natural- and for men, too- hence the term, ‘bromance’.  It was exciting to sense this feeling was mutual, though never openly acknowledged.

To me, this was the spice of life that kept my fantasy life alive and my juices flowing, which only served as fodder to unleash my imagination and ravish my husband, who I adore. This, I rationalized, though often a little naughty, only ensured my security and preserved the privilege of being able to stay home and do what I could to keep my husband’s love tank full.

As the years passed and our children grew older, I volunteered to help my neighbor Mary with restarting her cleaning business as she alternated between working for herself and working as a dental assistant.

Mary was petite like me.  I appreciated how her sweet balanced features were always tastefully enhanced.  Her lean and muscular figure showcased a full bosom which I envied. It was proportional and natural looking though I suspect they were enhanced.  Her easy magnetic charm drew me in and in no time convinced me she was one to contend with.  I found her sharp wit and dogged spirit sexy.  She looked so fantastic in her tight tops and wore her perfectly faded, ripped jeans with expensive western boots.  Oh, am I a sucker for eye candy!  I loved to look at her.

She desperately wanted the finer things in life and had at one point betrayed some disappointment that her husband decided not to practice law after all she did to put him through law school.  Read: She was meant to be a trophy wife of a power broker, dammit!

She had told me that they had hit some very rough patches in their marriage but they had gotten stronger through joining a good faith community.  Her religious convictions and sense of justice were unflappably clear.  I always listened and gave her the sense that I was a good friend to have and that I could be trusted with these confidences.  I was true to that.

So we worked together, often at night for her business clients—allowing me to indulge my attraction to her and show her that I was the ‘real deal’, too.  I had long accepted that my identity was somewhat androgynous, distinctly feminine, but with a healthy dose of testosterone, too.  In general, I identified more with thrill-seeking, fear of commitment, and fickle or bold natures historically associated with males.  I learned to play to this as a strength because I enjoyed feeling attractive to both sexes.  While I am distinctly heterosexual, I have always appreciated the beauty and physicality of both sexes.

Late in the day during November, about the time the wind was actively stripping the leaves from trees,  I walked down to meet Mary at the end of the cul de sac of the adjacent block.  She saw me approach and met me outside in knee-high boots and dark jeans with a rich warm scarf layered over a bosom bulging in ivory cashmere.  We stood close together as I handed her my time card.  This was the day I forgot myself.   

“Oh, my goodness, how pretty you look!  Are you going out?”  The wind whipped my hair around as I tried to keep it tucked behind my ear.

“Good Lord ..this sweater looks so good on you I bet it drives your husband to distraction!”  I laughed. She rolled her eyes and smiled at me.

“You’re sweet to say that.  Unfortunately, my husband isn’t at all interested..”

“Really??” I gaped at her.

I told her that it was all I could do— to not resist asking if I could just cup my hands around them and caress them while we stood outside talking.  Her dark eyes opened in an ‘oh my’ fashion and she glanced back at her house. She looked past me, scanned our periphery,  then looked into my eyes.

“Ok”. She took my hands and gently placed them over her breasts with her back-facing house and a tree shielding us from view behind me.  Cupped my hands around her mounds caressing herself with my hands, covering the area all around to discreetly stroking her nipples..with me meditating on how they felt and willing my hands to transmit hot heat through that sweater.  Smiling I looked up and saw her hungry gaze.. she came ravenously, forcing my mouth open with her lips and devouring my mouth with her tongue, I felt my insides engorge as she pressed her body against mine, our breasts mashing together.  She had the raw force and strength of a caged animal..

My hands quickly went to her hips gripping and pressing them against mine so maybe our labia or our clits might touch through the denim ..then I decided to return the intensity of her kiss, allowing myself to taste her..deeply kissing her..oh we were so stiffly pressed against each other, my hands went to her back then I broke away briefly to whisper, “we’d better stop before someone sees us!”

“Oh God I need this, I want you so badly!” Her body trembled violently.

I pulled her as close to me as I could and devoured her mouth in turn, pressing my lips hard as I could against hers —allowing for the deepest drink possible of purely wretched fervor inside of a minute my hand raced down to grab her between her legs probing blindly touching and rubbing all I could down there. She broke our kiss and gasped against my shoulder as she grabbed at my crotch rubbing her fingers across the swollen bulb inside my pants.

Oh, lord, were we going to fall down?  This was my panicked thought as the sound of her garage door started its automated ascent.  We separated immediately and were at once grateful that it began to rain hard, conveniently disguising our wretched state. I shrieked sharply at the sudden downpour, started backing away quickly calling over my shoulder, “Ok let me know!” and she hastily jogged back home.  She texted the next day saying she’d meant to tell me that she would be going away for a few months and that our work would be suspended until further notice, stunning me. It would be spring before we spoke again.