Cindy's Offering

I went straight to my bathroom, cleaned my hands, pulled my pants down, and masturbated as I recalled the vision of Cindy in her wet clothes but for some reason I couldn't ejaculate. I fell asleep and had a curious dream about Cindy removing her wet clothes, drying off her body with a towel then tantalizing her front while inserting a finger into her rectum. I instantly woke and realized I had a whet dream, changed the sheets then got down on my knees and prayed for God's forgiveness like a scared little boy.

With as much time as we spent together, strangely Cindy never asked about my past or anything about me, and she never invited me into her home even to relieve myself. We always went our separate ways even to eat lunch, then we'd return to potting plants. She always went inside by herself and on occasion emerged with the best lemonade I had ever tasted. On Fridays I drove to the market to pick up groceries for the week, but never invited her to come with me. I always waved to her as I backed the car out of the driveway and she always stood and waved back. If she were in her yard when I returned, she'd stand and wave as if she was welcoming me back to our home. It was as wholesome as living on the farm again, only much more risqué.

I began to realize Cindy was different than other women I had met. She spoke with refreshing energy as if she was internally happy all the time and she wasn't fascinated with being holy but she never swore. She didn't appear to be interested in my body like most other women had been, and she didn't shun my touches like Kathy. I was accustomed to the smell of the soil and plants but there was always an unidentifiable fragrance when she was close to me. I dared not ask what her perfume was for fear she might think me too forward, but she did chat more about herself after some days had passed.

I discovered the boy who showed up at Cindy's place and stayed for two nights was indeed her husband. They had been married just over a year. He worked out of town with his father and was only home a short time. She said she was comfortable with the arrangement because it gave her free space to do what she enjoyed. We quickly became the mysterious couple the curious in the neighborhood whispered about. The same scenario played out for three more weeks. We worked in her yard from morning to noon, broke for separate lunches then returned to planting until sundown, said goodnight and went our separate ways for the evening. Cindy went inside her place and I went to my place. I showered, ate, read the news, typed an article or two then went to sleep in anticipation of the next day. I never even thought about masturbating or having sex with Cindy.

On the fourth Friday the jigsaw puzzle started to come together even more. I needed to send a letter to another job prospect and had to get it into any mailbox before noon. I walked outside, and out of habit, I glanced into Cindy's yard. I knew she wouldn't be there because it was a tad too early but as I walked down the stone path toward the squeaky gate, I noticed Cindy was on the street side of the fence on the opposite side of my yard talking with another girl. When Cindy noticed me she girlishly motioned for me to join them.

As if being drawn by Cindy's spell, I shoved the envelope into one of the mailboxes and automatically stepped toward Cindy without raising the flag. As I approached the girls I felt uneasy as the other girl scanned my body. She was looking straight at my crotch and didn't look up until I reached out to shake the girl's hand. It was my duplex neighbor and Cindy introduced her as Carol, her best friend forever.

As it turned out, Cindy and Carol had been friends since they were youngsters. They had nearly the same birthday, which made them twenty years and a few months old. They knew each other very well and I felt they might be more than just childhood friends as I watched them look at each other in constant adoration as they talked, moved their bodies and gently touched each other. It was sensual to the point of nearing lesbianism, a subject I understood to mean when women were together and men were not required.

Suddenly a tall lanky guy came out of the door and stood behind Carol, put his hands on her waist and gave her a kiss on her shoulder. Carol reached behind her and gently cupped the side of the guy's unshaven face and he turned his head and softly kissed her palm. Their affection toward one another was so delightful they instantly became my new friends and it was enough evidence for me to be convinced Cindy and Carol were really just best friends and not lesbian lovers.

That ideology was solidified when Carol introduced me to her guy as Cindy's plant buddy and him to me as her fuck buddy, Bob. The girls giggled coyly like children who had just heard a bad word, and I chimed in as I realized Bob wore Carol's comment like a lucky charm. After Carol's introduction, for some reason Cindy stepped very close to me, gently held onto my bicep with both hands and rested her head against my shoulder. As my nostrils filled with her fragrance and my arm felt a soft breast pressing against it, Carol looked at Cindy with a cautioning gaze and said in a hushed singing voice, "Oh ... my ... God."

At first I thought it a mysterious comment but then I began to understand. I felt Cindy wanted to be closer to me, how close, I wasn't sure but I sensed Carol saw something a little more then Cindy being physically close. It was the first time she had actually held onto me, and it made me a bit nervous. She was, after all, a married woman and technically, I was still a married man. I thought I had cleared my mind of my first analysis of her but her touch and Carol's comment made me start to think again.

Things changed dramatically the instant Carol asked if we wanted to come over that night and have dinner and cocktails. Cindy gently tugged on my bicep, lightly bounced and begged me like a little girl pleading for a new doll. Those little tugs changed everything for me. I couldn't resist Cindy's girlish playfulness and agreed to a date with Cindy, the married woman next door. I also got the feeling Carol was onto something but I wasn't sure what it was.

I stood comfortably with Cindy by my side with her hands still holding my bicep while we all discussed a type of fare to be prepared. As it turned out, Bob was an assistant chef and he offered to prepare a seafood meal. He refused to take any money so no one questioned his choice of fare. Although I had never taken a drink of alcohol in my life, we all agreed beer would be a more frugal choice of libations in lieu of liquor cocktails. The time to get together would be around 6 o'clock and Cindy asked in a girlish way if we could show up together. I felt her bounce a little and heard a faint squeak in her throat when I told her it would be perfectly fine with me.

We decided she would come to my place first and then we would go from there. I caught a glimpse of Cindy and Carol looking at each other in approval of our plans almost as if the girls had planned the entire affair from the beginning. When it appeared everything was settled we all said goodbye, Carol and Bob went inside their place and Cindy and I went our separate ways as if we both secretly had something to do. It was a delightful gathering of humanity but a strange separation for Cindy and me. We simply said, "See you later," at the same time then went our separate ways.

Having been a separated man living next to Cindy for weeks was indeed a picnic, so much so, I spent more time with her and never took the time to clean my place. I frantically ran around picking up dirty clothes and stuffing them in the washer and dryer until the machines were packed solid just as my sisters had taught me. As I ran around picking up tossed sheets of paper with typewriting on them, dishes and cups and glasses and used paper towels I realized there was no time left to clean everything so I crammed everything not nailed down into the dishwasher, oven and any cabinet with space enough to accept even a toothpick.

I had no idea what to wear or what I was going to do. I was so nervous I paced the floor periodically spraying air freshener into the air from an aerosol can. I was so frustrated I had to get some relief so I went to my bedroom, pulled my shorts off, sat on the rug then toyed with my penis while thinking of Cindy in her wet shirt and tight white gym shorts. When I ejaculated, I dumbly watched the semen as it sprayed the rug and waited for the sensation to stop. Feeling relieved, I asked God to forgive me, got up, finished undressing, took a shower, brushed my teeth, combed my hair, got dressed then sat on the couch and calmly waited for Cindy to arrive as I glanced every two minutes at the wall clock.

An hour passed and promptly at 5:50 pm, I heard the squeaky gate and a few seconds later the doorbell rang. My heart began to pound profusely in my chest as I went to the door and opened it. Cindy was standing on my porch, and I was stunned by the vision before me.

Cindy had a completely different look to her face than I was accustomed to and I realized she had applied a small amount of eyeliner around her eyes and her eyelashes looked longer. The light pink of her lipstick went perfectly with her pure skin and her hair was puffier then normal and gently rested on her shoulders, which framed the sweet portrait. Even her fingernails and toes were painted to match her lipstick. Cindy was so gorgeous she could have been, hands down, a movie star or a fashion model.

She was wearing tan pleaded slacks and a black sweater vest over a white, high collared long sleeved shirt with the cuffs folded back. It was obvious she was wearing a bra because her breasts were held up and pointed outward, besides I could see the bra lines under her sweater and shirt. She looked slightly taller and I noticed she was wearing dainty black sandal type heels increasing her height about three inches. She was wearing her usual earrings, her wedding rings and a gold thin bracelet watch but no other jewelry. She looked very clean, very professional, and to me, very desirable.

Her fragrance was as usual and I recognized it instantly. I decided to finally ask her what her perfume was by somehow working it into our conversation.

"You look really, really nice Cindy," I said with complete honesty as I gazed into her big blue eyes, "I hope I'm not too under dressed."

"Thank you Danny." She responded as she nodded her head quickly scanning my torso. "Shorts and a Hawaiian shirt ... it's perfect for a beer and fish party." She added.

I felt she was disappointed in my choice of clothing, but she reminded me none of us had brought up the subject of dress while making plans. Cindy and I chuckled about our situation and I offered to change into clothes more suited to Cindy's outfit but she wouldn't let me. I thanked God in my mind, because I had no clean clothes, not even a pair of underwear to put on, or even clothes professional enough to compliment her attire. The only thing left to do was step onto the porch next to her, reach for the door handle and close the door behind us. Feeling it the right time, I said cautiously, "That's an alluring perfume you wear."

"Oh darn," she said as she raised her hands and tilted her head back, "I was in such a rush I totally forgot perfume."

"I guess it's a secret fragrance." I offered with a low soft assuring voice as we stepped side by side down the steps and onto the stone path.

"Funny you noticed that," she said almost as if she didn't want me to hear the words.

After that exchange, we didn't talk as we walked slowly down the path beside each other. It was as if we were treasuring the moment of being together at dawn. I had a unique feeling of being closer to her then I had been over the past weeks and wanted to enjoy every second. When we got to the gate I stepped slightly forward of Cindy and reached for the latch.

As I opened the gate for her to pass in front of me she responded with a professional voice in unison with the squeak, "Thank you, it's nice to be around a real gentleman for a change."

As Cindy stepped through the open gate in front of me I deeply inhaled her fragrance, then exhaled and said, "I definitely have to have that squeak fixed ... and thank you for the compliment."

"You're welcome, but why fix it? ... You always know when angels are coming," offered Cindy as I closed the gate behind us.

I thought her comment about the squeaky gate so simple and so perfect I didn't know how to respond, so I just nodded my head in agreement as we turned to walk down the sidewalk.

Cindy and I only had time to talk about how dry the evening was and how much we both enjoyed cool spring nights as we walked side by side down the sidewalk to the very next gate. Our destination was thirty feet away so we didn't even have time to hold hands like real daters. I thought it inappropriate to hold hands anyway, since I had just been dubbed a gentleman, and I kept kicking myself so I wouldn't forget we were married, to other people.

After Carol greeted us at the door we were ushered into the kitchen where Bob was standing at the oven placing a dishtowel over the oven door handle. Carol made a comment to Bob about how awesome Cindy looked and Bob agreed with Carol's comment adding, Cindy was the only one who had the decency to dress up for the occasion. I thought Cindy not only looked decent, she was downright beautiful. After the giggles filled the room about everyone forgetting to discuss the dress code for a beer and fish dinner, the subject changed to Bob's cooking.

The food in the oven smelled wonderful and Bob proudly explained the type of fish he was cooking and how he was preparing the meal. Cindy and I were asked to sit on a bench with our backs to the wall at a small table similar to a picnic table covered with a tablecloth large enough for a full size table then I realized it was a bed sheet. Cindy and I sat so close to one another our legs and shoulders touched even though there was ample space for another adult to sit between us. It was close quarters, but I didn't mind touching her and it seemed she didn't mind touching me either.

After Cindy and I settled in our spot, Carol and Bob sat on the opposite side of the table with genders facing each other. I noticed Carol's left hand disappear under the table almost immediately, but it was no surprise. When we all settled down Bob offered everyone a bear while pulling cans out of a cooler full of ice and beer placed on the floor next to him. Bob popped open two beers for the girls and placed an unopened beer in front of me. I watched Bob pop the top of his can to learn how to open a beer as Cindy and Carol simultaneously lit up cigarettes. After I popped the top of my can we all toasted friendship and the conversation began.

At first the discussion was light and zoomed around the room like a spirit seeking a home. Then the topics flipped from weather to professions, from favorite sodas to favorite movie stars then from clothes to shoes and accessories, to football and finally to a subject I knew little of, pornography. After three beers I was completely comfortable with the setting and enjoyed being aroused by the insanely affectionate couple sitting across the table constantly fondling each other. Somehow the conversation about a particular feature of an actor named John Holmes morphed into Cindy's marital issues and it peaked my interest, but at the same time caught me totally off guard. I knew nothing about pornography and even less about a Mr. Holmes. When the girls giggled about the physical attribute John was apparently famous for I began to understand what might be driving Cindy towards me.

Cindy asked for her fourth beer and lit up another cigarette before she started talking about her marriage. I had no idea how she would respond to Carol's question regarding Cindy's inability to have orgasms but my curiosity was aroused because I had never participated in a conversation about such matters. As Cindy opened her beer, Bob commented about Carol's inability to control her screaming during orgasms and we all chuckled after I mentioned I heard the muffled noises through the walls every night.

When Cindy started to answer Carol's question she suddenly dropped her right hand on my left thigh. I didn't want to make a scene by interrupting her because I was seriously interested in her answer, and I didn't want the activity under the table to stop either because I wanted to see how far she would actually go with her hand, so I remained calm.

I sat very still as Cindy slowly rubbed my lump as if she was sizing me up. She took a long drag on her cigarette, blew the smoke away from everyone from the side of her mouth, cleared her throat a little, gently squeezed my bulge and then proceeded to explain how she discovered from Carol and other girls she had never had an orgasm. My penis instantly responded to her cool touch and thoughts about being intimate with the married woman next door rejuvenated.

I tried desperately to hold on to my composure but at the same time I was curious as to just how far Cindy would take her escapade while deeply delving into the topic of her sexual dilemma. During her dissertation about how her husband drank himself into a slobbering idiot on the days he was home and attempted to stick his tiny erection into her dry cavity before passing out, she managed to get my penis to swell up almost to full size.

Unfortunately my swelling nemesis was trapped inside the cloth of my shorts and it was becoming painful. I silently begged in my mind like mental telepathy for Cindy to point my growing penis in the upward direction to relieve the pressure. I even shifted my position slightly to get comfortable but Cindy gently swatted my lump like a schoolteacher scolding a bad little boy who wouldn't sit still. She didn't even miss a single word of her tale when she swatted me.

By the time her story got to her husband's morning habit of just mounting her and spraying her breasts with semen I was going crazy. Cindy kept slowly stroking the cloth over the shaft of my penis with the palm of her hand then she worked her way to the swollen head, which had escaped at the hem of my shorts. When her fingers found the ridge she forced my penis to puff up by wrapping her warm fingers around it and I felt I was going to release in seconds.

When Cindy started to talk about her husband losing his temper when he caught her masturbating, I coughed and nearly tipped my beer as pumping semen dripped down my leg. Cindy laid her open palm against my pumping penis and pressed on it in rhythm with the ejaculation as she blew a whole mouth full of cigarette smoke into the air. To top it off she left her hand over the lump in my shorts until my erection subsided and retreated behind the cloth. Carol asked about my condition and I blamed it on being intensely interested in Cindy's story, and the fact I was the feeling the affects of the beer. Cindy never looked at me during the entire escapade and I couldn't believe how calm she was after the ordeal.

Cindy's hand remained on my thigh until the girls got up to clean the table of beer cans. I thought it interesting both girls thoroughly washed their hands before touching anything other than the cans. When Cindy was moving around the room with Carol, I tried to get her to look at me, but we never made eye contact. I felt it an absolute delight to be handled by her and I felt special until I heard the faint noise of Bob zipping up his pants. The whole scene presented a serious set of new issues for me to ponder. For beginners, I asked God why am I here? Then I asked myself, who is this girl? I was beginning to think Carol was right, men were literally sex toys to girls like them, and if we didn't behave and play the game their way, we'd be in serious trouble, or worse, left in solitude.