Hot Sex Instead of Dancing Ch. 01

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Walter masturbates himself while watching his sexy neighbor cleaning her kitchen in her sexy nightgown.

Walter stayed up to watch TV after his wife, Linda, retired to bed. His private time that he's set aside to masturbate himself, he enjoyed this time of night with everything so quiet with no interruptions. With them always going to bed together at the same time every night, staying up late is something he's recently been doing lately, especially on the weekends when he didn't have to get up for work the next day. Too wound up from working all week, and with Linda incessantly talking and constantly complaining in his ear of wanting to go somewhere and do something, he looked forward to an hour or two of quiet time before going to bed.

Too tired to go out to eat, to take her to a movie, to go dancing, and/or even to have sex, once home from work, he just wanted to relax. Once home from work, he just wanted to have a beer, masturbate himself, and go to bed. Besides, his excuse for going to bed later, he couldn't fall asleep right away anyway, especially with Linda snoring and her hogging most of the bed. What's more frustrating about her snoring is her denying that she snores. If he had a tape recorder, he'd record her snoring. With him not having one of those special IPhones, his cheap cell phone only made and received calls.

With her taking up most of the bed, she only gave him about twelve inches of bed space. As if he was a prisoner in jail or a homeless man sleeping in a shelter on a narrow cot, with his arms and legs tucked in as if he was put to rest sideways in a coffin, he had to sleep on his right side while Linda slept on her back like a starfish. Sometimes wishing he never married and lived alone, he wished they had a king sized bed instead of a queen sized bed. He envied his friend Ralph who was a happy, confirmed bachelor.

Sometimes, especially after having had a couple of beers, he'd fall asleep in his reclining chair while watching television. Only the real reasons why he stayed up past his normal bedtime was because of the late, sexy show that Tiffany, his next door neighbor, an ex-stripper, sometimes gave him. If only he had known she was giving free, sexy shows of her hot, black body, he would have stayed up late months ago. On the flipside, if only she knew he was watching her, lusting over her, and masturbating over her shapely body, she'd be so angry and he'd be so embarrassed and ashamed. He'd feel like such a sleazy pervert if she knew he jerks off over her while watching her and while wanting to have sex with her. How could he disrespect her and disrespect his best friend by lusting over his sexy wife?

Only, not all of his fault, in the way that Bill was when he met Tiffany, Walter is just a horny, sexually frustrated, middle-aged man longing to recapture his youth by living vicariously in watching Bill living out his sexual fantasy with Tiffany. Now he knows why so many older, well-to-do men hookup with younger women. Now he knows why his friend divorced his wife to marry a woman nearly half his age. When Bill's wife Connie found out that he was fooling around with Tiffany, a black woman nearly young enough to be his daughter, she was so angry.

With Connie nearly twenty years older than Tiffany, there was no way she could compete with a younger woman, especially a younger woman who had the body of a stripper. With Bill having a penchant for strip clubs, Bill's taste in woman had changed from white meat to dark meat. He used to brag about this beautiful, Nubian princess he met at the strip club but Walter never realized that Bill was serious enough about her to leave his wife and kids to marry her.

Now Walter knows firsthand what Bill saw in Tiffany to divorce his wife, abandon his children, and marry Tiffany. Feeling the same sexually excited way that Bill must have felt the first time he saw Tiffany's naked body wrapped around a pole, she's the type of woman that every man wants but few men can have. In the way she parades around her kitchen in her sexy nightgown without the modesty of wearing a robe, no doubt she doesn't know that he's watching her. With all of his lights out, including the TV, she probably thinks he's in bed sleeping. Then again, with her being an ex-stripper and with so very man having watched her strip off her clothes, maybe she knows he's watching her. After having shown so very many men her naked body, no big deal to her, maybe she doesn't care who sees her in her sexy nightgown.

Then again, with her not closing her kitchen curtain, maybe the real reason why she doesn't wear a bathrobe over her sexy nightgown is because she knows or she's hoping that he's there watching her. Wouldn't that be something if she's a willing player in his game of exhibitionism and voyeurism? A sexy secret they both share, wouldn't it be exciting if they shared the same sexual peccadillo, her having the need to expose herself and him having the need to ogle her while masturbating himself.

Now he wondered, maybe he's not as invisible in the darkened shadows of his living room as he thinks he is. Maybe she's seen him light his cigarette in the dark. Maybe the head of his cigarette is a lit taillight that signals the braking stop to his sexual life with his wife. Perhaps the head of his cigarette is as clearly visible to her as the impressions her big, black nipples make in her nightgown are visible to him.

If only she knew how much he can see of her or imagine he sees of her, he wondered if she'd be embarrassed. If anything, with him supposedly their friend, feeling violated that he was spying on her, she'd probably be grossed out and offended. He wondered if she knew that he was watching her, if she'd stop parading around her kitchen in her sexy nightgown without a robe. At the very least, he wondered if she knew that he was watching her, if she'd pull the kitchen curtain closed to deny him his sexy view.

If she's a willing player in their game of exhibitionism and voyeurism, and in the way he masturbates over what he sees of her body, he wondered if she masturbates over the thoughts of him seeing her body. Maybe after she's stripped naked for so very many men, she enjoys giving him a free show of her nearly naked, bodacious body. Maybe she enjoys sexually teasing him and seductively flashing him in the way she sexually teased and seductively flashed so many of her customers. Maybe she's the slut he imagines she is for to be a stripper and for her to ruin a marriage by marrying his much older friend. Only, not putting the blame on her for breaking up Bill's marriage, if anything, he was jealous that his friend had a woman who looked like her.

Maybe in the way that he's a voyeur, unlike his sometimes prude of a wife Linda, Tiffany is an exhibitionist. No doubt about it, for her to be a stripper, she has to be an exhibitionist. For sure, in the way that Tiffany shows her body to men, Linda would never show her body to men. Maybe in the way that he's sexually frustrated with Linda after being married to her for nearly twenty years, Tiffany's sexually frustrated with Bill after being married to him for nearly seven years. Perhaps in the way that dreaded seven year itch reared its ugly head every year now in Walter's marriage, that seven year itch is proving difficult in Tiffany's marriage too.

Enjoying the titillating thought that some of what he thought may be true, deep down he knew that none of what he thought was true. She was obviously done with all of that and done stripping for men sticking dollar bills in her sexy G-string while copping a feel of her round, firm, black ass. Yet, why would someone who looks like her have the need to flash her nearly naked body to anyone but her husband? Why would someone who looks like her masturbate over someone who looks like him? Why would someone who looks like her give him a free show when she spent her stripping career charging men to ogle her fabulous body?

As if she was just as unattainable as she was when performing on stage, he was pathetic watching her while thinking that he had a chance with her. He was pathetic lusting over his best friend's wife, a woman he could never have. There's just no way that he'd ever have a chance of seeing Tiffany naked. There's just no way that he'd ever have a chance of having sex with Tiffany. Having to suffice himself with the crumbs of lusting over her from afar while masturbating himself, he was glad for the free show.

* * * * *

Alas, Linda wasn't always like this, so morally modest and sexually shy. In the way that he was no longer interested in having sex with her, even though she complains that they didn't have sex anymore, truth be told, she's no longer interested in having sex with him either. Perhaps as a remedy to improve their marriage sexually, he'd love for her to entertain the thought of having sex with other men.

A sexual fantasy come true, he'd love to convince her to try the swinging lifestyle. He'd love to watch her having sex with another man while he had sex with another woman. Only, what she may willingly do while tied to the bed and blindfolded, he knew her well enough to know that she'd never willingly do in an open marriage setting. There's just no way she'd become a swinger.

If he had to put a date to when she changed from being his sexy slut was when she started going to church every Sunday. Her turning away from Satan to believe in God ruined her for hot, passionate sex. Her praying on her knees was the end of her doing other sexy and dirty, nasty things while on her knees. He hated that God came between him having a Devil of a good sexual time with his wife.

Before they were married, when they were first dating, another lifetime ago, they used to have hot, sexy fun in his car, at the movies, on the beach, and in her bedroom whenever her parents weren't home. She be willing to do any sexy, sexual thing. She'd even allow him to flash her body to unsuspecting men. Now after being married to her for nearly twenty years, with the sexual lust he once had for her gone, the words of Peggy Lee rang through his head in such a sad refrain.

"Is that all there is? Is that all there is? If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing. Let's break out the booze and have a ball, if that's all there is."

Then, the voice of Connie Francis singing "Who's Sorry Now," filled his head with sadness. Sorry that Linda had changed, he was sorry that he didn't stay single. He was sorry that he hadn't married someone else, his old love lost, and the one who got away. He was sorry that he wasn't married to someone like Tiffany.

* * * * *

Now, every time he sees Tiffany his heart races and his step quickens in the way it once did whenever he saw Linda. In the way that Linda used to be, Tiffany is so beautiful. In the way that Linda never was, Tiffany is so stacked. In the way that he wished Linda was, Tiffany is so sexy.

A nightly occurrence now, he'd sit there in the dark with his lube and with his tissue and masturbate himself while watching her clean her kitchen. Something as innocuous as cleaning her kitchen, he never thought he'd be masturbating over someone cleaning their kitchen. Surely, something he's never been sexually aroused to do, he's never masturbated while watching Linda clean the kitchen. Yet, anything that Tiffany did, in the suggestive way that she did it, even sweeping the kitchen floor was sexually arousing, especially when she was wearing her short, low cut nightgown.

"God, I just want to bite her nipples," he said for no one to him.

Only, she just wasn't anyone cleaning her kitchen. She was his beautiful, sexy, next door neighbor cleaning her kitchen. Perfectly fine with him that she does, seemingly, she prefers doing her housework in the evening when her husband isn't home. Only, he wished she enjoyed cleaning her house in the nude. How hot would that be? He'd love to watch her cleaning her kitchen naked...naked, naked, naked.

If she cleaned her kitchen naked, he'd buy a video camera and he'd be recording her cleaning naked so that he could watch her over and again while masturbating himself. Nonetheless, whether cleaning her kitchen in her sexy nightgown, cleaning her kitchen naked, or standing still while fully dressed, she didn't have to do anything for him to be sexually excited over her. She didn't have to do anything for him to want to masturbate himself with the sexy thoughts of imagining what she looks like naked and what it would feel like to have sex with her. No matter what she did or didn't do, it was just the beautiful and sexy way that she looked that drove him mad with sexual desire for her.

He only wished he had a chance to see her when she was onstage naked and making love to a pole. As if she was a celebrity instead of his next door neighbor, he'd have a better chance of bedding a celebrity than he would have in bedding her. Perhaps part of the reason why he sexually wanted her so very much was because she was unattainable. Perhaps part of the reason why he sexually wanted her so very much was because she was his best friend's wife.

Perhaps with him having broken bread and eaten at the same table as Bill and Tiffany, he felt that he could share their bed too. A stretch of the appropriateness of their friendship, he read that the Eskimos and American Indians offered their squaws to their overnight guests. Wouldn't it be wonderful if he could have sex with Tiffany while Bill had sex with Linda? Yet, why would Tiffany want to have sex with him, when she had Bill and why would Bill want to have sex with Linda when he had Tiffany?

* * * * *

Unable to get enough of looking at her, ogling her, and staring at her, he just liked watching her cleaning the kitchen in her nearly see through nightgown. When he didn't see her cleaning the kitchen in her sexy nightgown, as if he was addicted to a drug and on forced withdrawal, he was in a foul mood. Vice versa, whenever he watched her cleaning her kitchen while wearing her sexy nightgown, the image of her put him in a good mood until he needed another fix of Tiffany the next night. Whenever she appeared in the kitchen wearing her short, sheer, sexy nightgown, he couldn't help himself from pulling out his cock and stroking himself to an erection.

If only she knew he masturbated over her, he wondered what she'd say. He wondered what she'd do. He'd love for her to watch him masturbate himself. If only he was a fly on her bedroom wall, he'd love to watch her masturbate herself. He was tempted to turn on a living room light with the hopes that Tiffany would stop cleaning her kitchen to watch him stroke himself and cum. Only, not wanting to ruin the nightly show, she may be horrified that he was masturbating, possibly over her, while she cleaned her kitchen in her sexy nightgown.

Moreover, a fate equal to death, what if she told Bill that he was masturbating himself while watching her. Nothing more than a sexual fantasy, he'd love nothing better than for her to strip off her nightgown and clean the kitchen naked. Nothing more than a sexual fantasy, he'd love nothing better than for her to strip off her nightgown and masturbate with him. He'd like nothing better than to invite him over so that they could masturbate together. Only, he'd be humiliated if he offended his best friend's wife by allowing her to see him masturbating and watch him cumming.

While stroking himself faster, he imagining himself there in her kitchen with her. While stroking himself faster, he imagined kissing her and feeling her breasts and her ass through her nightgown in the way that Bill must kiss her while feeling her through her nightgown. While stroking himself faster, he imagined reaching beneath her nightgown to finger her wet, black pussy before reaching behind her to feel her shapely, black ass. While stroking himself faster, he imagined her enjoying being touched and felt by him as much as he enjoyed touching and feeling her.

While stroking himself harder, he imagined her feeling his growing erection through his pajama bottom while kissing him. While stroking himself harder, he imagined kissing her, French kissing her, while feeling her big tits and fingering her black nipples. Then, as soon as he imagined her falling to her knees to pull his pajama bottom down to suck him, he was ready to cum. As soon as he imagined her blowing him and as soon as he imagined cumming in her beautiful mouth, he ejaculated his lust for her in a tissue.

'May I suck your cock Walter?'

Playing them over and again in his head, he imagined her saying those six, magical words while looking up at him with her big, brown eyes while he felt and fondled her big tits and fingered, pulled, turned, and twisted her erect nipples. With his preferred sexual fantasy never changing, always it was the same, sexy scene when masturbating himself. He imagined her cleaning the kitchen with him coming up behind her to hug her while rubbing his cock against her ass. He imagined holding her while touching and feeling her everywhere he imagined Bill touched and felt her. Then, spinning her around to kiss her, French kiss her, he imagined lifting the back of her nightgown to feel and squeeze her naked, shapely ass while she felt his cock through his pajama.

'May I suck your cock Walter?"

* * * * *

If only he was married to Tiffany instead of to Linda, he'd be such a happy man instead of being such a miserable man. If only he was married to Tiffany, he'd want to go everywhere and do everything with her. If only he was married to Tiffany, he'd have sex with her night and day. If only he was married to Tiffany, he'd never look at or masturbate over another woman for the rest of his sad, sexually frustrating life.

Only, with her such forbidden fruit, she was his best friend's wife. Bill, a Boston cop, who worked the graveyard shift, not comfortable leaving her alone and wanting to keep her safe, asked him to keep an eye on her. How could he ruin the friendship and trust that his friend gave him by spying on his sexy wife. Actually, in his defense, Bill did tell him to keep an eye on her and it's not his fault that she's wearing her sexy nightgown when he's keeping two bulging eyes on her.

Nonetheless the friendship that his best friend gave him, he'd love to see Tiffany naked. Nonetheless the trust that his best friend placed in him, he'd love to have sex with Tiffany. If he couldn't have sex with Bill's wife, at the very least, he'd love to see Tiffany naked.

With him having never cheated on his wife, even though Linda has had sex with other men, three of his friends that he arranged for her to screw while tied to the bed and blindfolded, he's never had sex with any other woman but Linda. He's never wanted to see any other woman naked but for Tiffany. He's never wanted to have sex with any other woman but for Tiffany. For sure, an understatement, Bill wouldn't be happy if he knew that he sexually lusted and masturbated over his gorgeous wife.

Only, in the sexy way Bill's wife looked, unless they were gay men, how could he not know that every man, friend or foe, lusted over Tiffany? In the way that he enjoyed seeing her naked when she was stripping, how could he not know, especially once they knew she was a stripper that all men wanted to see his wife naked? In the way that he couldn't wait to have sex with her, how could he not know that all men wanted to have sex with his wife? The epitome of sex, she was the definition of the word. When looking sex up in the dictionary, 'Tiffany' was the only meaning.

With her being an ex-stripper that so many men lusted over as she stripped off her clothes, how could he not know that she was such a minx? If he owned a tavern in the 18th century, despite the fact that she was a black woman, a beautiful, black woman, he'd hire Tiffany as his personal wench. As part of her job duties, he'd take her to bed every night for hot sex. If he was married to Tiffany, he'd never have to masturbate ever again. Glad that he lived across from her and ruing the day when they bought a house and moved, he was content to watch her from afar.