Victory Was Hers, Not Mine

Being an at home worker I have close quarter issues with neighbors in my complex. For example, a woman who lives in my block chose to expose herself to me. I'm jo catch, late thirties, overweight, intellectual. Not a sex hound by any means. But, after months behind my walls, this woman played on my mind. I knocked on her door and asked to come in.

Like me, late thirties, not hot by any means, we talked for the first time. Whether she had exposed herself on purpose or by accident didn't matter, I had seen her with nothing on but a cup of coffee. And I was hungry. I pressed my purpose, but she ignored my advances. After an hour it was time to pack up and go home.

Some days later, being late summer I saw her leave for a walk. I put on some shorts and headed the other way, setting my pace to run into her on the way back. She was surprised, and she accepted my offer to fix dinner that night. One thing about this pandemic, I practiced cooking a casserole and went home to prepare it. I had a bottle of Lambrusco and took that out as well.

Her dress was jeans and a pullover top, the most difficult things to take off. She stood on the other side of the island, small talk, never an opening. Frustration grew, the wine was gone, she leaned over and told me she missed her girlfriend. What? But she said, she liked a man now and then. Now might be the day.

For someone who thinks way too long, more of thought than action her bare breasts took my breath away. Her stripped panties took me by surprise. Her warm hand on my penis, her soft lips on mine, her moist vagina as she straddled me and let herself down. Because I like girls, she said, doesn't mean I don't know how to fuck. She did, she did all the work, she was the one that fucked me.

It was a one time thing, we are friends of sorts, she introduced her new girlfriend to me. But once was enough, she took my manhood away that night. Knowing her as I did I had no doubt who was in charge and that her girlfriend was in for a rough ride.