We had already lived in the neighborhood for a few years when Jessica and Craig bought the house down the street. We didn’t meet formally until the end of summer block party a few months later. A brief chat revealed that our kids going to be in school together: our boys were just a year apart and our younger daughters were going into the same grade. Not only that, but Mara, my wife, and Craig worked at the same company. This was not particularly surprising — they worked for a large software company that seemingly half of our neighborhood had ties to in one way or another. Carrie worked for the in-house legal counsel and Craig managed an IT team. It was clear we were going to be seeing a lot of these people.
Craig did not break any IT guy stereotypes: he was confident, a little geeky, and hinted at libertarian political leanings. He was also passionate about British soccer. I liked him fine, but didn’t think we were destined for close friendship. Jessica was more personable, good-natured and curious, and clearly enjoyed motherhood. She worked as a freelance graphic designer, mostly from home. She was a physical contrast to my wife. Carrie was nearly my height and had been a distance runner for as long as I had known her, with the corresponding athletic figure. Jessica was shorter and curvier, with shoulder-length brown hair and an open face with bright eyes and a kind, genuine smile. I don’t remember feeling attracted to her at the time. I was at the point in parenthood and life where I was getting by on coffee and obligation and even my erotic imagination had been dulled by routine.
Over the next year our families got together a few times for dinners and cookouts and our daughters developed a tight friendship. I saw more of Jessica as she and I had the bulk of the parental duties and often ran into each other in the school pickup line, at the playground, and on a few occasions in the grocery store. I always found her easy to talk to and commiserate with about the never-ending grind of activities and chores.
Each summer, the company where our spouses worked had an employee retreat. This wasn’t the kind of casual gathering where families tagged along — it was a serious, team-building effort that the CEO took very seriously. It felt a little too much like an indoctrination camp to me, but I was biased by having worked only in non-profits and education and was naturally suspicious of corporate doings. On the other hand, I had no problems enjoying the comfortable lifestyle my wife’s salary enabled and kept my jokes to myself.
When Craig and Mara went off for their retreat, Jessica and I made plans to get the kids together as much as possible not only to keep them busy but to ease the burden of single parent life, even if only for a week. They had alternating sleepovers and we arranged carpools to their summer day camps. It was a nice break, in a way. Our normal weekly routine was pretty regimented, albeit by necessity. I also enjoyed having the time to chat casually with Jessica. She was very easy to talk to, and had a terrific laugh, but I still didn’t know her that well and our conversations rarely dipped below the surface. By the end of the week we both eagerly agreed to combine forces again for the retreat week next year.
As the following spring turned into summer, I found myself looking forward to the week when Mara would be away. Some of it was just a need for a break; our marriage was perfectly fine, but everyone needs time apart now and then. But it also dawned on me that I was looking forward to being able to spend time with Jessica apart from our spouses. I still wasn’t thinking of her sexually at all. Whenever I ran into her she was usually in a hurry, dressed in baggy clothing, her hair pushed back in a headband, little or no makeup. Of course, there were times when my mind wandered that way, but mostly I just genuinely enjoyed her company. I felt like we could relax with each other in a way that you couldn’t with your spouse, especially at this point in our lives when we were constantly planning and negotiating responsibilities.
The second year, during the retreat week, instead of dashing off home for alone time after dropping the kids, we lingered in each others’ kitchens to chat. We talked more about our childhoods, had an honest conversation about what it was like for our careers to be secondary to our spouses’, and we made jokes about the company they worked for that we never would if they’d been around. Still, I always felt like I was intruding on her time when I stayed too long at her place, and whenever she started to leave mine, I was too hesitant to invite her to stay.
The third year, with our kids a little older and needing less of our attention, our conversations deepened. One evening, while the kids were in the basement watching movies and playing video games, Jessica and I were chatting while I had the TV on in the background. Even in the streaming area I still liked to flip around on broadcast TV, escort watching bits of movies I liked whenever they showed up. The movie I had been half-watching ended, and as Jessica was making motions to leave, the next one started: it was Out of Sight, the crime drama with George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez.
“Oh my god, I love this movie,” Jessica said as the opening credits came on.
“Are you serious? It’s one of my favorites. This is surely J. Lo’s finest work.”
“Really? I always thought she was better in Maid in Manhattan.”
“Um… ” as I considered a reply she burst out laughing.
“Did you think I was serious?” she smiled.
“Well,” I stammered, “I mean… “
“I would hope you know me better than that by now,” touching my arm lightly as she said it. I didn’t look down where she’d touched me, but I still felt the warmth of her hand.
“Care to join me?” I said, nodding at the TV. “I didn’t have any other plans.”
“Really?” Her eyes wide, smiling. “Are you sure?”
“Please,” I said, gesturing to the couch. “I think we deserve a break.”
I didn’t do the math, but it was around twenty years since I’d sat on a couch watching a movie with a woman other than Mara. It felt like I’d regressed to high school. We weren’t close enough to be touching but I was aware of her presence the whole time, watching her out of the corner of my eye every time she moved, noticing the clean smell of her shampoo, forcing myself to keep my eyes locked on the screen when she lifted her arms above her head for a long stretch. Feeling her go quiet during the quite hot sex scene in the movie. We chatted some, but mostly just sat quietly and watched. After it ended she smiled shyly and thanked me and left for her house soon after. I had a hard time sleeping that night, turning the afternoon over in my head, trying to decide whether it was just an innocent thing or if something had really changed.
I thought about that night many times through the following fall and winter. I wondered what would have happened if I would have tried something, made some kind of move to show that I was interested in… in what? The thoughts were incoherent in my own head. I didn’t want to pursue a tryst or affair with Jessica, right? Even voicing the idea silently in my mind sounded absurd. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The warmth of her body next to mine, the way she breathed as we watched the sex scenes of the movie together. I played it over and over in my head, trying to figure out why I was lingering on what was on the surface nothing more than an innocent get together. I spent as much time wondering whether she felt something, too, or if I was just driving myself crazy over nothing. Either way, I was more anxious then ever for the retreat week to come.
Then the pandemic hit. We saw plenty of Jessica and Craig, but almost always as a group. We had nervous dinners on each other’s back decks while the kids played outside. The company retreat still happened (of course it did) but it was moved to Zoom so instead of having time alone, Jessica and I each spent the week wrangling kids to try to avoid disrupting the endless conference calls. Even after the vaccines came the retreat stayed on Zoom for the next year and I began to despair that those weeks — what I referred to in my imagination as my weeks with Jessica — would never return.
The pandemic changed people in different ways. For me it came in the form of burnout and increased anxiety. I had never thought about retirement before, but now the idea of a post-work life, even it was a ways away, began to occupy more of my thoughts. For Mara, she spoke about a different, more family-focused work-life balance, though as things returned to what we were calling normal, old habits began to return. I didn’t blame her at all — I was even a little jealous that I didn’t have work that was that consuming.
Perhaps Jessica and Craig were going through similar experiences with their mental health and balance, but they also began to change outwardly. Craig got into CrossFit. He was intense about it, as so many of its adherents are, wearing the t-shirts almost every day and talking at length about his workout routines. My exercise routine consisted of jogging a few times a week to keep the beer gut at bay (it wasn’t working), so I just nodded along. With Jessica the changes were more subtle. She grew her hair longer (as did many of us in the early days of the pandemic, but she kept going) and streaks of gray began to appear. I don’t think these were new; my guess is that she simply decided to stop coloring it. She also seem to gain weight, but that’s not really the right way of describing it. It was like she just filled out — her hips, her chest, and her face seemed a little fuller — but not in an unhealthy way. I know this sounds strange to say but it felt like she was coming into her natural body shape. Whatever was happening, I liked it. To some extent this was reflected in her personality, escort bayan as well; she seemed more relaxed, quicker to laugh, and quicker (I was sure I wasn’t making this up) to let her eyes linger on mine.
I didn’t learn until later what was behind these changes. According to Mara, who had had a heartfelt conversation with Jessica, Craig had a cancer scare early in the pandemic. Everything turned out to be fine, but it was a lot to handle, especially as the whole world seemed to be falling apart around us. Even after everything cleared up, they remained shaken and responded to it in different ways. Craig became much more health-conscious with the aforementioned CrossFit and a new diet that seemed to involve a lot of green smoothies. Jessica, on the other hand, saw it as a sign that they needed to enjoy life while they could. To her that meant stopping her habitual efforts to fight off the indignities that come inevitably with aging. She stopped dying her hair, she savored food instead of obsessing about what she ate, she made more time to talk, laugh, and relax. If this meant more gray hair and a fuller figure, so be it — she was determined to be herself.
After two years of Zoom retreats, the in-person meetings came back and Craig and Mara again made plans to be away for the week. It had been three years since the evening on the couch with Jessica and so much had changed. Not only had we gone through a lot but the kids were older and were all going to be away at a sleep-away camp that week, so there was no need for Jessica and I to combine forces on child care. As glad as I was for the empty house, I missed having the ready-made excuse to spend time with Jessica. It felt too forward to suggest something and I also didn’t want to intrude on her alone time.
We dropped the kids at camp on Sunday afternoon and I took Mara to the airport on Monday morning. I spent the rest of the day drinking coffee, pretending to work, and mostly just wandering from room to room, marveling at the silence. Late in the afternoon, as I was pondering my takeout options for dinner, the phone rang. It was Jessica.
“Is your house eerily quiet now, too?” she said, skipping hello.
“I haven’t gotten used to it yet. I don’t even know what to do with myself.”
She laughed. “I keep having to remind myself that they’re not going to burst through the door any minute now.”
“I know. It doesn’t feel real.”
“Do you have dinner plans?”
“Um… ” I paused in surprise at her question, but realized it sounded like I was hesitating.
“I made fresh pasta and it looks too good to just eat by myself.”
“Wow,” I finally got out. “That sounds amazing. Way better than the takeout I was planning on.”
“Great. Takeout can wait — care to join me?”
“I um… yes, I’d love to. Can I bring anything? A bottle of wine?”
“Perfect,” she said, pausing a second before adding, “bring two.” And then hung up.
Bring two — the words echoed in my mind for a moment. Was she being forward or just looking to relax? I dug two bottles of Italian red wine out of the pantry and dusted them off. This was just a casual dinner with a neighbor, I reminded myself, not anything more. Still, my thoughts kept turning to Jessica’s curvier figure, her smile, “Bring two,” and I felt myself getting aroused. Hoping to stave off on awkward situation later on I took advantage of the empty house slipped into the bathroom to masturbate, feeling more relieved and clear-headed after, ready to face the evening.
It felt decadent showing up with two bottles of wine, but she received them happily, giving me a quick hug when she welcomed me at the door. She was dressed for the warm weather, wearing a black tank top and shorts. She looked amazing. The tank top was snug, accentuating her chest, and with more cleavage than I’d seen on her before. I had to make a conscious effort to keep my eyes from lingering. Her hair was loosely pulled back in a ponytail, her cheeks were flushed, and she had white spots on her shirt from the flour.
“Been doing a little baking?” I smiled.
“What? Oh,” she laughed as she roughly brushed off her shirt, which made her breasts jiggle in the process. “It’s what I get for wearing black. I just don’t like aprons — they make me feel a little too domestic. Come in — I hope you’re hungry.”
In the kitchen she had quite a spread laid out: bread with a couple of cheeses, prosciutto, olives, almonds, roasted red peppers, and plenty of everything.
“Wow.”
“Maybe I went overboard? Craig doesn’t eat any of this stuff any more so I went a little crazy.” She shrugged. “Help yourself while I just finish the pasta. Corkscrew is in the drawer.”
She dropped the pasta in the already boiling water while I opened the wine, poured two generous glasses, and began to sample everything. When the pasta was cooking she took a glass and held it up for a toast.
“Here’s to a quiet week,” I said.
“I think we’ve bayan escort earned it,” she said. “To enjoying a quiet week. To us.”
We clinked glasses and drank. To us?
The dinner was amazing. We polished off the pasta, kept returning to the charcuterie, and kept the wine glasses full. It was so easy to talk with Jessica. After all these years she was like family but without the added pressures and complications. With so many similarities with our kids and spouses I felt like we really understood each other and were opening up in ways we hadn’t ever before — not because we didn’t want to but because we simply never had the time like this.
“I’m stuffed,” she said, after we had polished off the cannolis from the bakery.
“I’m going to have to undo a button,” I joked.
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”
We both laughed and took the second bottle of wine with us as we moved to the couch. I resisted my tendency to over-analyze everything and just enjoyed the evening together. We sat close together, talking, laughing. Her lips and teeth were stained from the wine and I loved how relaxed and decadent it made her look. I did my best to resist staring but I was hyper-conscious of the way her breasts moved every time she shift positions on the couch.
I put my empty glass on the coffee table and sat so that I was facing her. See was sitting casually, one arm resting on the cushions. Without much forethought I put my arm up on the back of the couch so that my hand was resting on hers. “Thank you,” I said “this was really nice.”
She looked at me for a moment, her expression soft and sincere.
“Was nice?” She said softly. “Is the night over?”
“Is it?” I asked.
She smiled and shook her head, her tongue touching her lips playfully. “It doesn’t have to be.”
I didn’t feel anxious at all, just calmness and warmth and anticipation as I leaned in slowly, watching to see if she’d move to meet me, knowing she would. She did. Our lips met lightly — hers felt so soft — and we kissed, gentle movements at first and then harder, wetter, letting our tongues find each other’s in what must have been the first first kiss in decades for either of us. I moved in closer and she did too, putting one of my hands on the back of her head, the other on her hip as we kissed deeply, passionately.
I held her head as we kissed, our tongues exploring. I felt like I could have done that forever but she was the one who seemed anxious for more, taking my hand and sliding it up over her breast, letting out a soft moan as I squeezed, her round, full, heavy breast too big for my hand. It felt amazing to finally touch her like that, to feel her nipple harden under my touch as I rubbed it with my thumb. I could feel her patterned fabric of her bra under her shirt, tightly holding her breasts. I slipped my hand under her shirt, touching her warm, sensitive, soft skin, reach up to cup her breast again over her bra, still kissing deeply.
Her hands were on me now, rubbing my back and then along my sides and between my legs, quickly finding my cock and feeling me starting to grow quite hard. She undid the button on my jeans and started to unzip. I reached behind her back with both hands trying to be cool about quickly releasing her bra but failing miserably. She smiled and broke the kiss. “Let me get it.” She sat back and pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it aside and revealing a quite sexy and quite large black bra over her huge breasts, which looked ready to burst free. “Too many hooks,” she said, smiling, as she undid the bra, and then held it in place for a second, watching me as she let it drop. She had bigger breasts than any woman I’d been with, and though they hung heavily on her frame, I thought they were perfect. I took them eagerly in my hands, squeezing them gently, pushing them together, then leaning in to kiss one then the other, feeling and tasting her stiff nipples as I greedily licked and sucked.
“You like them,” she said, smiling, a surprised statement, not a question.
“I love them,” I said, before diving back in.
“You can suck harder,” she whispered and then I heard a sharp intake of breath as I squeezed with more force, sucking her nipple into my mouth and teasing it with my teeth. I was more aggressive: biting, sucking, waiting for for to tell me to stop but instead she put her hand on the back of my head and pushed me into her.
I wanted to get a better angle so put my hands on her hips and guided her onto my lap as I relaxed deeper into the couch. I returned to her breasts, now filling my face, as she slid back enough to finish with my zipper, reaching in my pants to grasp my now fully hard cock for the first time. “Oh,” she said, as she wrapped her hand around it and slid my pants down just enough to be able to pull it out. “It’s so big,” she whispered, almost as if to herself. I don’t know if she was telling the truth or maybe was just inexperienced — I thought I was probably bigger than average but not huge — but either way I loved hearing it and felt like cock swelled even bigger in her hand. She started to slide her hand up and down as I continued to suck on her tits, already feeling my precum at the tip.
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