Desire 


Oh, yes it felt good. I pulled on my knees until my rear was
practically off the bed. I looked at Conner as much as I could, given
my state. I managed to keep my eyes steady and watched his face as he
slid in and out of me--it was so easy to tell he was overcome. Yes it's
nice to be appreciated. And especially nice with your husband like
that. All in all, a fine way to start the day.

I have to admit I was feeling good that day and I'm hoping not many of
my coworkers thought too much about my gratuitous smiles. In fact,
knowing Conner was getting off work early, I knew I was just going to
have to manage to get home early myself.

I walked through the house to find it empty, spotted Conner in the back
yard, and headed out to ambush him. But just before I reached the door,
I noticed he was talking to Patricia. Our next door neighbor.

I should have gone out anyway, but something in me made me stop. The
devil inside me, no doubt: Patricia is certainly something to look at
and I must admit that part of me didn't like her and Conner talking
like that. I stood inside the door, watching.

And watched her lead Conner into her own house! I *knew* it had to be
innocent, but obviously the back of my mind wasn't going to sit still
for *that*. Once again I yielded to temptation and quietly followed
them to Patricia's back door. I stood at the door, finding I had a
clear view of them and could hear them too. So I hid myself as best I
could while continuing to watch.

*What was I thinking*? Yes, it was stupid of me, but my worries were
not without foundation, it turned out. They *weren't talking*. They
should have been, but they were just standing there, looking at each
other. No, it didn't quite make sense to me: they should either be
conversing or, well, getting on with it--as it was, they just looked at
each other strangely.

"Come on, get with it," Patricia finally said.

"No," was Conner's reply, uncharacteristically mumbled.

Patricia started to laugh, but stopped abruptly. "You know you will."
Conner didn't reply, but just stood there. I realized that he wasn't
really meeting her eyes. "You'd better not keep him waiting. You *know*
you like it." I could almost hear the smile in her voice even though I
couldn't see her face that clearly.

"No, please!" Conner's voice was low and pleading. I stayed hidden,
confused.

"Now! You *like* it." Nothing. Then: "Don't make him angry."

Then it happened. Conner just started unbuckling his belt! In fact, he
got completely undressed right there in front of her. It was strange
because she just stood there, watching and he looked so embarrassed
about it. I couldn't believe it was Conner I was watching doing this!
"Good boy," I heard Patricia say with a slight giggle.

Then Jim came downstairs! Conner was just standing there, naked as Jim
came in the room. "You rarin' to go?" he asked, obviously to Conner.
Conner still stood there, silent. Then Jim took hold of Conner by the
neck and pushed him over to their table and leaned him over it! I
couldn't believe the way Conner just let him do that: it just wasn't
like him. Even if Jim was bigger than him, I couldn't imagine Conner
letting anyone push him around like that.

And there was Conner, leaning over the table, naked! Jim unzipped
himself! "You ready, Darlin?" he said. Patricia walked over to the
table right up to Jim. Suddenly she grabbed his head and pulled him
into a kiss! She'd grabbed him by the hair! I realized as they
continued to kiss that he was holding her hair too and he finally
pulled her head away, still by the hair. As they separated, she still
had her tongue out which she licked his lips with until she could no
longer reach him.

She giggled again, and said "Have fun," and they separated. Then she
grabbed Conner by the hair and lifted his head. "You be a good boy and
you'll get what *you* want," she said. She lowered his head again, then
put her hand on the back of his neck for a second. They just stood
there like that and she giggled again. Then she walked out through the
front of the house.

"OK, Darlin', you ready?" said Jim as soon as she was gone. Conner
didn't make a sound, and suddenly Jim slapped his rear. The sound
startled me. Then he was leaning over Conner's back, grabbing his hair,
and talking almost into his ear: "I don't hear you."

Then he was standing again, and he grabbed both Conner's hips with his
hands. "I said: you ready?"

"Yes," came Conner's voice.

"You want this?" No answer. "We both know the answer's 'yes'."

"Yes."

Suddenly there was another slap, then Jim immediately shoved himself
into Conner's rear! I could hardly believe my eyes: it was the last
thing I ever expected of Conner. "What's your choice? Rough or easy?"
Nothing. "Come on, I haven't got all day!"

"Rough." There was something weakish about Conner's voice. It was so
uncharacteristic.

"That's my Darlin'. You'd better beg." As he said the last sentence, he
grabbed Conner's hair again, lifting his head. "Start beggin'."

"Please!"

"Please do what?"

"Please fuck me rough!"

"You need that?"

"Yes! Yes, fuck me!"

Jim started moving. But he moved slowly. "I'm going to give it to you
nice and slow at first, just because I want to." He slowly drew and
pushed, over and over. "You like that, Darlin'?"

"Yes!"

"But you want it rough?"

"Yes!"

"I *like* to hear you beg."

I slipped away quietly, not able to take it any more. Back in the
house, I got something to drink and just sat there in the living room,
the image still in my mind. Something was making me want to go back and
watch some more, but something else kept me glued to that chair. I sat
there for about ten minutes, then went out the front door, got back in
my car and left.

I returned to show up at my usual time, or perhaps a few minutes late.
I looked at Conner. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He kissed me.
He has a way. Though my mind was racing with its memories, everything
was exactly right and I not only went through the motions, but felt
everything I should with him. It seemed like a different man than the
one I'd seen that afternoon. I was probably seeming a little distracted
that evening, but amazingly enough, it didn't seem to be bothering me
in any way that mattered to us. We did it that night.

The next day was Saturday and I found myself weeding my garden in the
back and there was Jim in their backyard. Conner was off somewhere. Jim
was working for a while and then sat down, apparently just to sunbathe
or something. He was in shorts with no shirt. I couldn't help glancing
at him a few times-- those memories still stirred in my mind. He was
definitely muscular, making Conner look ordinary by comparison. I
glanced over again to find him standing right at the fence looking at
me!

"You checking me out?" he asked.

"Uh, no!"

"Now I *saw* those glances," he said and laughed a little. I didn't
know what to say: I should have smiled brazenly or joked or something,
but I just knelt there tongue-tied for three seconds too long. Suddenly
he had vaulted over the fence and was coming my way. "You interested in
me?" he asked.

"No!" I replied. I started to stand. I backed up a step as he
approached, but he came right up to a foot away from me. I had to look
almost straight up to face him.

"I think you are," he said. He had this smirk about him--as if he just
knew I couldn't resist him or something. A part of me wanted to slap
his face. I felt his hand on my chin--he was holding my chin!

I backed off and headed for the house. I felt like a coward, but I just
wanted to get away from him. But as I walked into the back door, he was
coming in with me. I found myself in the kitchen, backed against the
table, looking up at him again, though he wasn't so close as before.

"You want me, don't you?" he said.

"No!"

"Yes you do. Admit it."

It was time to refuse again--to insist. But I just stared at him. I
detected just a slight smile on his face which he seemed to hide. "Say:
'yes'" he said.

I still just stared at him. "Say 'yes'" he repeated, in a slightly
vocal whisper.

"Uh..." I *should be saying no*! I was so tongue tied. Then he smiled
what looked like a satisfied smile and approached me. I stared up at
him, still backed against the table. I should have moved sideways, away
from there. Then he had my head in his hands.

"Do you like it rough?" he asked. I still didn't answer. He put a
finger on my lips and sort of played with them a second. Then he lifted
me onto the table and pulled off my shorts. And my underpants. "Your
choice: rough or easy? *Answer*!"

"Rough!" He'd nearly screamed the last word at me and I answered before
I'd thought! Suddenly I found myself face-down over the edge of the
table. Then his cock pressed against my rear!

I felt him press a little, but not hard. Then his voice was in my ear:
"You'd better beg me."

Nothing. I didn't answer. But he started pressing harder. I felt it,
there, pressing. "Aren't you going to beg me?"

Still just pressing, but not hard enough to enter me. I couldn't stand
just lying there, him just pressing like that. "Please!" I said.

"Please what?"

"Please fuck my ass!"

"Hard?"

"Yes, yes, hard!"

He pressed harder and I felt him enter. But he was still so slow. He
slid into me. I realized that somehow he had to be lubricated--was he
prepared for this? "*I* want to take it *slow* for a while," he said.

He slipped into me slowly, then started to draw out slowly. Then in,
then out, all ever-so-slowly. "Want more?" he whispered.

"Yes!"

"More what?"

"Fuck me! Hard! Now, please!"

"No," and he giggled softly, still going so slowly. Then I found myself
reaching behind myself to grab his hips and pulling him hard into me,
and making him do me faster. He laughed again, and started going fast
himself: "That's my little neighbor-slut," he said, over and over
again.

I came. And came--I never would have though I could come from that.
"Oh, you *definitely* like it," he said, obviously detecting my state.
I felt him coming in me at the same time.

Then he was out of me. He pulled me back up by the hair and then was
whispering in my ear: "you *definitely* like it rough, don't you?"
Suddenly my ass stung and I realized he'd slapped it, hard.

He was out the door before I turned around. I cleaned up and showered
before Conner returned.

That night Conner and I lay in bed. I knew we were going to make love.
Once again, somehow those other memories didn't affect how I felt about
him. He'd kissed me. Yes, he can definitely kiss. He was lying on his
side next to me, toying with my breasts, looking at them. I looked at
his face.

I was struck by a though and found myself talking before I knew it:
"Ever wonder about Jim and Patricia?" I asked.

"What."

"Well, how they do it?" He didn't answer. "You think he does it rough
with her?"

"Jim and Patricia?" I could see his mind racing--he'd repeated their
names just to stall for time.

"Yes," I answered.

"Yeah, they do it rough." I wondered if he were speculating. Something
in me really wanted to know.

"How do you know? Are you sure?"

"Trust me. They *definitely* do it rough."