A Risky Neighborly Agreement Pt 3

A RISKY NEIGHBORLY AGREEMENT Pt 3 By englishperv I crossed the road to Alison's house with a mixture of excitement and sadness. It was day four of our little pact and it was to be the last. I knew I would be left wanting more after it was all over. Well, you do, don't you? I mean, certainly if you're a male you just want more and more of it once you've had a taste of it. Add adultery into the mix and the effect is intoxicating. Add the issue of pregnancy into the mix, as we were doing, and the effect is something deeper than just intoxicating. I was reflective: I and Alison started out by thinking it was something as non-erotic as it was possible for sex to be ? having a quick fuck clinically 'merely' for the sake of impregnation. But now it had hit me profoundly how sex for that reason is the deepest, hottest, most erotic kind of sex of all. Babies, after all, is what nature has given us sex for. Bleeding obvious really. We were lighting a hell of a firework here, playing with one hell of an atom bomb. Knock, knock. 'Here I am, Alison, ' I thought to myself as I waited. 'I've come to put my cum in your body again.' I felt an aura of sinfulness as I glanced around the nice little neighborhood, and I contemplated what we'd be doing inside her four walls in a few minutes. She didn't keep me waiting long this time, which was good because by now I was feeling distinctly self-conscious about being seen calling at her house for the last 4 consecutive days. This time it was 9.45 am, as arranged, instead of the previous 2 pm visits. Therefore, I safely presumed it was mutually understood we were going to spend all those extra hours today 'at it'. "Last day," I said to her wistfully. "And we're going to have a very nice time, aren't we?" I took the liberty and initiative of embracing her round the shoulder blades and giving her a kiss on each cheek, near to the sides of her sexy mouth. She'd already led me into the kitchen, away from the front door which might have revealed silhouettes to the outside world. "Yes, I believe we are," she replied, responding with a smile and quick but very un-neighborly kiss on my lips. That one moment would have said everything to her husband or my wife if they'd happened to witness it. As for witnessing the things Alison and I would be doing shortly ? that would be their worst, unthinkable nightmares. We held each other for a few moments longer, looking each other face to face and exchanging a few soft kisses on the mouth: my hands round her upper back and her hands low on my sides. "I'll certainly have a nice time if you do what you did to me yesterday," she added. She extracted herself from our embrace and turned away casually but with a guilty and cheeky smile. "What exactly? What bit do you mean?" I reacted with an equally cheeky smile. "You know damn well what I mean!" she said, keeping a straight face but the sinfulness showing in her eyes. I didn't bother to reply to that, but of course I was firmly intending to eat her pussy again anyway. Also, I was brimming with excitement at having the luxury of at least 5 hours to do it, along with lots of other things. "Let's get upstairs then," she said with a relaxed little laugh. "So it's a fuck first, then a coffee?" I said, following up behind her. "Something like that," she replied over her shoulder. "You don't have to keep calling it that, you know?" "Oh, okay, sorry. We 'make love' first, then a drink." "That's maybe a bit too strong too," she said wryly. "We have a bit of 'tender-but-dirty-sex' first." "Better." The thought surfaced in my mind, not for the first time, that what we were doing was the worst possible thing to do to a man ? what with the pregnancy thing and all. Poor hubby Dan. It was marginally not quite as bad on my wife perhaps: it wouldn't be the first time by a long way that a guy cheated on his wife after all. Undoubtedly it was made worse, though, by the fact Alison and Chrissie were good friends and the fact I was prospectively fathering a child by another woman. But I found it easy to swamp these guilty feelings with the excitement of the bedroom ahead. I told myself, not for the first time, that we were simply two adults with needs and having a bit of fun that would not hurt anyone in the long run. "Aughhh, God," I grunted, as 20 minutes into the session my throbbing erection was passing it's load into Alison's vagina. My hands were firmly cupping her breasts as I rolled my hips into her from the rear. It wasn't really my hands that helped her remain on her knees, however, it was the very firm widespread supports of her own outstretched arms reaching to the floor. Alison was merely wincing and gasping as I gave her several final little lunges to accompany my ebbing ejaculation. I had hoped she might be more vocal, but it was fun and I reminded myself to be grateful for the week I was having. She did the thing of looking under her body again as she felt my finish, which was good. It had been my suggestion to do it in this way again. I'd enjoyed it so much the day before and instinctively wanted to repeat it. 'Suggestion' is not strictly true, because I didn't verbally initiate it. Rather we 'gravitated' to it. I had embraced her from behind, kissing her neck and groping her tits. Then I brought us both down to our knees. Then, still behind her I firmly, but not roughly, got her to bend forward. She knew what it was about and she didn't protest ? quite the contrary, she giggled. "You like your doggy position, don't you?" she said at the time. "It's only twice," I said, truthfully enough. We laughed, and got it in motion from there. I think we both instinctively felt the position kind of symbolized the erotic, non-love but high-lust and good fun nature of our little 4-day fling. It was, appropriate, it was good. It was liberating: I think we both felt like dirty teenagers again without a care in the world, a complete break from years of middle-class manners and frontage of married life. Also it was serving Alison's need. Job done, seeded again. It was looking good for her baby. After the cum I pulled her up into me and endeavored to settle us both onto the floor on our sides, still behind her. She went with it without saying a word, just breathing softly and deep. I wanted to stay pressed into her rear. I wanted her shit-crack pressed against my groin. Also I wanted to keep my satiated penis in her vagina, though in the event the maneuver caused it to slip out. No matter. We laid there naked on her bedroom floor, my front to her back, our bodies curled a little and my arm around her chest. The position felt warm but more lustful than loving. I felt I wanted to caress and fiddle tenderly with her hair against her cheek, however, so I did. Also I kissed her ear. "It's going to work out," I said softly. "I'm doing this for my family," she responded, seemingly in response to me brushing her hair off her cheekbone with my knuckles. "I know that," I said, with an understanding tone. "You know, you're kind of cute, in a way, Mark." "Oh," I laughed. "In a way? Well, that's cool, I'll settle for that. Hey, you're not going to get mushy, are you?" "No, I'm not going to get mushy. Don't worry." "Good. Time for that coffee, huh?" I said. "Yep," she responded, stirring quite quickly from our embrace. "Time for coffee." I watched as she raised herself to a sitting position. I couldn't get too much of seeing her naked. Every different angle and posture had it's own sexiness, as with any good female body. The normal positions in a way are sexier than the sexual ones. She looked great sitting there, gently curved back and the base of her spine and crack close to the floor, butt cheeks spread out against it. Her brunette locks flowed demurely over her naked shoulders and collar bones. Her sexy eyes looked a little bit tired, with the touch of grayness and wrinkles of the over 30?s around them. Oh ? and she smelled great, even greater in the flesh than when clothed. We stood up and proceeded to dress. "Knickers, knickers," she chirped, making light of the seediness of the situation. She looked around the floor for wherever she'd put them. "Here," I said with a boyish smile. I picked them up and held them out to her, loving that I could be so personal and transgress the bounds of intimacy with a woman who was and should only be my neighbor. She flashed me a put-on smile and took them off me. Half an hour had passed. We had, in theory, 4 and a half hours more. We went down for coffee, presenting a proper and clothed face to the world, should anybody call at the house. We talked in her living room, presenting a good show of platonic respectability by sitting across from each other in separate seats just incase we were interrupted. Again, I wondered how comfortable she could possibly feel with her vagina full of my minutes-old semen. That fa?ade was frequently broken by the sensuous way we exchanged looks across to each other, our eyes alive with the (very very nice) sin we were sharing. Of course we would never be able to look each other in the face in the bland mannered way of neighbors ever again, except of course by an effort of the will to act it for the benefit (rather, 'deception') of those around us. "What happens if it doesn't work?" I asked. "We wait and see what the situation is in a month's time," she answered. "Maybe we'll try again. Same rules though, just three or four days of fun and then stop." "Four," I said with a smile. She smirked and said, "Don't push it Mark!" "You know what?" I began. "What?" she asked, over the rim of her coffee cup. There was a gentleness but sexuality in her eyes which I loved, and of course I had now had the privilege of seeing what bedroom behavior lay behind the demure exterior she presented to the world. I took a deep breath. "Why don't we just give ourselves 3 or 4 days each month anyway, regardless? We meet up, just one day even, every month or so and have each other. It would be special. The last 4 days have been good for us both, haven't they? You must admit, you've enjoyed it. What harm is there in it? So long as we don't get cau..." "The harm is that we keep moving the goal posts and sooner or later we'd make a mistake," Alison answered firmly. "You're right, though, it's been fun." Her voice softened and she smiled with a little shrug. I pressed on. "It would be kind of hot, I think, and sweet to have a date for the diary each month. Something to look forward to." She was just looking at me, silently, in between taking sips of her drink. "Maybe we could even get away to a motel, if we both found an excuse that is." "Oh no," Alison responded, shaking her head. "No, no, no. You're being crazy now, Mark. This is precisely what I didn't want to happen ? things getting out of control." "What's getting out of control? We can easily keep a lid on this thing, Alison. Meeting up for a couple of days every month is a very self-contained way of doing things. I think we need each other." Now it was my turn to look earnestly over the rim of my cup. "I think you enjoy living dangerously as much as I do." "I don't know about that." she said. She reflected with a touch of solemnity. "Well, maybe." She shrugged. "I guess I'm cheating bitch." "No, that's not what you are. It's not like that. You're a georgious woman. You've got a healthy sex drive and you just, well, something extrat in life. A bit of extra attention." "Ha ha! 'Healthy sex drive'. Is that how you would put it? Now, 'Gorgeous' ? that I like." She rolled her eyes. It was hot to see her blanching a little bit, it made me want to fuck the living daylights out of her even more. "It's true. And making love to you would be the biggest date in my diary each month." "Oh, come on. Mark. Don't talk like that. Bigger than seeing your kids do well, winnning a prize or something?" "Well, no." But yes ? in a way, I reflected. "But it's special. A very, very nice experience, and I think it livens both our lives up a bit." Finally, with a frank, smiling expression, she said decisively: "Well, I suppose I need my life livening up a bit. I'll think about the monthly thing, in principle. No motels though. And we won't see each other after today, until the next time comes round." "Suits me," I said. "Sensible." "So, I'm that horny am I?" "To me you are. I would think to anyone you are. "Are you ready to go upstairs and let me prove it." --"Er ? yes ? I think I'm thing I'm ready for round two," she said slowly and seductively. She flicked her head and pushed some hair back from her face. We spent most of the rest of our time together that day, from approximately 11 am to 2.30 pm, in the bedroom. It was broken only by a couple of bathroom visits from each of us, Alison returning a message left on her phone (it was her mother, and I heard heard her say 'sorry mom, I was out the back when you called'), and a break for lunch which Alison brought upstairs in the form of sandwiches. For the journey to the kitchen she scrupulously got dressed ? just in case ? and she undressed again on returning, which I stared freely at. I openly pointed out what was happening to my cock during those moments, and she openly looked at it with a coy, sexy expression. Of course she was no teenager seeing these things for the first time, but she got amusement from watching the steady change from flaccid to stiff. For a few minutes we then had a silly game of her doing various standing poses, like a model being photographed, and observing the further effect on my penis. We laughed and smiled a lot: we did feel like teenagers, and I believe this was part of the appeal of what we were doing. The she knelt between my legs and handled it. I believe the bitch was teasing me. Then she started sucking on it. "Uh, Alison," I said, rolling my eyes and breathing deeper, "if you do that, you're going to get my load in the wrong place." She ignored me for a few seconds and carried on sucking. Then she pulled off and said with a naughty smile: "Where do you want me then? I think we're going to have to see to this thing before lunch, aren't we?" She was correct about that. "Up to you," I replied, my voice threatening to go weak. "Do you feel you like you need more seeding ... or do you want it right there?" "You decide, lover-boy." She continued sucking slowly, with one hand on the base. Her mouth was damp and warm and a wonderful place to be. I was genuinely undecided whether to take her doggy position again, or sitting on a chair which is something I wanted to try with her, or... "Oh, fuck," I sighed. "Just carry on. Please." I closed my eyes and leaned back a bit. She chuckled, genuinely amused. "That sounds like a decision." She carried on. Looking down on her demure brunette head between my thighs and her naked form, with her ass sitting on her heels, was almost enough to make me cum in itself. The thing that really drove me crazy was her breaking off a couple of times to ask me, "how's that ? that okay?", even though she clearly knew pretty well how to give head to a man. The only thing I needed to tell her was to slow down a little. When she started making the odd purring noise and her saliva became audible around my shaft, that was it. "Now you can speed up," I gasped. She did, to the tune of increased slopping noises. I made no attempt to restrain my ejaculation or utter a word of warning: it seemed I had permission. With a pained and blissful frown and leaned forward over her, sinking my hands into her hair and gripping the sides of her skull, although I had enough self-discipline to let her keep control of how much shaft she had in her mouth. It would have been bad manners to choke her ? we were lovers after all, she wasn't a hooker. I simply loved her for doing this for me. "Aughhh!" I vocalized. "Aughhh!" My cock squirted, spat and dribbled inside the hot environment of her mouth. She did not pull away: far from it ? she gobbled and sucked with closed eyes. She made some 'mmm' noises which were a strange half-way house between pleasure and the efforts of someone to swallow a bitter medicine. But swallow she did, because she didn't attempt to come off until I gave her the signal I was finished by letting go completely with my hands, one of which was actually stroking her head affectionately by now. "I warned you," I sighed. She was giving a little wince as she wiped her mouth, scoffed a bit and gulped. "Quite alright dear. I think I owed you that one." I didn't want to ask how much she actually enjoyed it. I settled for simply having done it. "I suppose you did." We laughed. Well, it was true, after the previous days cunt-eating I'd done in addition to some I'd done already that day too. It was after that we took one of our toilet breaks which included washing our hands for eating and, in Alison's case her mouth. Naturally we went back to sex shortly after eating. Everything we did was intense and wantonly dirty. Really, our bodies belonged to each other. The two hours after lunch were a kind of blur, a haze of pleasure where the various activities merged, repeated, developed and extended. Oral was a thing we returned to a lot, including one or two very lengthy 69s on the bed. I did not cum in her mouth again, but I feasted on her juices (plus, unavoidably, pussy hairs), and at moments I was practically 'drinking' from her. "You're not kissing me like that," she said once, on seeing me sat up with her slime all around my mouth. We laughed. "No problem. I'll just keep kissing you down here." I managed two more cums. One of them was at the culmination of a very energetic and passionate missionary fuck on the bed, which had developed and built very spontaneously out of the general feeling and kissing. The bed squeaked. Her long smooth feminine legs were up in the air, sometimes just poised up there sexily, other times curled around me in wide-open erotic receipt of my fuck. My hands went t her ass a loot, but were on her head at the moment of climax, pulling down on her. Alison had become more vocal, but it was mostly moans or gentle laughing. Her usual was to close her eyes at the moment of seeding. The second cum was at the end of carrying out my desire to fuck her on a chair. She was game for this. I was sat on it while she was facing me with her sexy thighs around my waist and her ass on my lap. This brought out the most laughs, grinning into each other's eyes as we tried to establish balance and rhythm. In the end we found it easier for her to keep her feet off the floor and support her own riding movements by holding hard onto my shoulders. "Be bloody careful not to scratch me," I gasped at one point, not because I was worried about it hurting, but because of the fear of evidence. "I know," she answered breathlessly. We gazed each other in the face, enjoying our sin and devoid of practically all inhibition now. Her lips curled in a sexy kind of lisp that was far from the everyday persona she projected. My hands moved all over her back, on and off the back of her head, on and off her hips and buttocks. During one particular deep kiss I slid a finger daringly past the bottom of her spine and deeply into the crevice of her soft ass. I dared to probe for her hole, which drew a gasp from her in my mouth. I withdrew my finger, suspecting this to be a bit too dirty for her demure style. I came soon after that, not a lot since it was my 4th of the day, but I managed to pass a little jet and a dribble up into her. We stared at each other, smiling sensuously while it happened, and then put our lips together for a little kiss which became full-on tongues. It was the last main act of the day. I could have stayed until 3 pm technically, but we both knew we'd better get a shower, which for safety reasons we would do in our own homes afterwards. We no doubt had each other's smell, which included not just sexual juices but also cosmetic scents, all over us. We parted company at 2.30 pm. We agreed to make a date in approximately a month's time, whatever was the safest and most convenient day, regardless of whether she had conceived or not. Alison said she would keep me informed if there was any 'news'. Epilogue Alison and I became lovers. We both decided we could not, or did not want, to do without each other. At times I was truly not sure whether it was love or lust, or what proportion of both. What it certainly was something that we did not have in either of our marriages. We kept those monthly appointments, alternating whose home we did it in. Occasionally we have even managed a 'motel day'. We kept up a magnificent fa?ade of ordinariness between us whenever we were in company. Now, 5 years on, we have never been caught, nor, I think, seriously suspected even. We will never leave our respective partners because we know that 'something' that we have between us is good for sex, but is not good for marriage. They say 'your sin will find you out'. It hasn't, but in mitigation of our wickedness consider this: Alison never did have that baby by me. She conceived on that first month, but her conscience finally could not bear to do such a thing to her husband. She aborted in private in the early stages. Two years later she and hubby managed a child of their own by medical help. In a way I was sad but relieved about this: I did like the idea of her having child, and I felt some pain of jealousy that she had one by him, but it may have been one deception too far. The main thing is, I continued to have her sex, even though it was only 10 to 15 days out of each year ? and I kept my own family. I never did fuck Alison up the ass. It was not in her persona, and it would have tainted the sweetness that had arisen between us. You can't have everything. 6484 1.73/512345