Come Upstairs

When my neighbor Leila called and asked if I would drop off my kids at her pool, it sounded like a great idea. My wife wanted to spend the day shopping for our kitchen remodel. I figured I could leave them at Leila's and have enough time to do some work at my office. I was way behind after a trip to Chicago to give a presentation on derivatives to a new client.

The following is true. It could only be true because it is so fucking weird.

Leila is my wife's friend. I changed her name for this story. She is half Egyptian, half Greek, born in So California. She has dark skin; raven-black, lustrous hair; she is what my friends used to call "curvy" - beautiful, generous breasts; smooth, accented ass; petite, but gorgeous body.

She usually wears very conservative clothes, like baggy jeans, billowy dresses, flip flops. I noticed her beautiful hot body only because I am that type. And my wife told me that when they went to their women-only gym, she wore skin tight spandex outfits that literally stopped some of the instructors in their tracks. She had a habit of rubbing her chest while she spoke in the gym, and when my wife gets home, she almost always runs right at me because she is so insanely turned on.

When I am at work, she calls, usually midway through fingering herself or using her brand new vibrator. I answer and say things like, "Okay, I see" to get her through it. Once I get home, a handjob and description of Leila's outfit greet me near the door (if we are alone, of course).

Anyhow, Leila had just finalized a divorce. Her husband was a mystery. He did not socialize much. He was about 20 years older than her and often away. Leila said that he was a much older family friend when she married as a late teen. It sounds contrived, but her family wanted her to marry rich since they were old fashioned and concerned that she have a lifestyle. Her husband was an okay guy, but being Greek born, we had little in common and I usually just let him tell me about his restaurant equipment business.

When I arrived at her home that morning, I was wearing a polo shirt, khaki shorts and sneakers. No one was going to be at my office in a nearby office park, so I did not need to wear my usual suit.

As the door opened, I almost lost it. Leila answered the door in a gold lame bikini, gold colored high heels and a white cover up blouse that just barely covered her just about perfect ass. The kids were so young that they did not realize a thing. They ran straight for the pool.

I will say this: I did not try to cover up my admiration anymore than she tried to cover up her extraordinary breasts. I lowered my sunglasses and smiled. I think I told her that I had never seen that bikini. She said that she knew and it was time that someone other than she and Raisa saw it.

Raisa. I am getting hard just thinking about her. I am furiously stroking my cock with one hand and typing with the other.

Raisa was Laila's Latvian nanny. Christ. She was absolutely perfect. Short blonde pixie cut; crystal blue eyes; slim shoulders; pert breasts; long legs; she wore a gold anklet that makes me want to come right now. She always, always, always wore high heels. She could be carrying a 2 year old to get a new diaper, and she had to be wearing 3 inch stilettos that clicked across the granite tiles of the kitchen. My wife said that at least two of her friends admitted to girl crushes on Raisa. She was number 3.

Raisa came into the hallway wearing a bikini that made Laila's look modest. It was a full on black thong with a black pushup bra with silver studs. She was pulling a wrap skirt around her slim waist, drawing my eyes to absolutely perfect abs.

She was smiling - she was always smiling. She spoke very little English but she absolutely adored her charges and Laila had no problems in communicating using common English phrases, hand signals and laughter. Somehow, they understood each other, always laughing.

Anyhow, Raisa, to my chagrin, found a half t-shirt on the coffee table and slipped it over her head, past her terrific cleavage and straightened it, just south of her bikini top. She laughed and said something like, "Must cover up; man in house."

She took my kids outback to the mini pools Laila had in back. I watched Raisa's ass sway this way and that, heels clicking, as the kids ran in front. It was better than any movie. Ever.

I would later ask Laila if she was uncomfortable with Raisa in her home with her husband. She would tell me that her husband was actually gay (hence the late marriage) and procreated with her only to fulfill his family duties.

He divorced her so that he could feel free to live away from home. Weird stuff.

So, I am going to write exactly what happened next.

Raisa was in the back. I reluctantly told Laila that I would have to leave, work, etc. I figured I could jerk off at my office to some Internet porn. Or photos of Laila on my computer from a wedding we all went to for our neighbor's daughter.

But Laila asked me why I only liked to work. She used to like to work. Now, not so much. Now, her only concern was to see if my wife was right. Did I really have a flat stomach?

What the fuck?

Okay, I had been working out every since I was in high school. Now, in my thirties, I was proud of an athlete's build. My wife would sometimes brag that I looked good; that I could exercise like a teenager. She apparently told Laila that I liked to fuck like one too (guilty).

Laila just stared at me. I could not breathe. After a long second, maybe the longest of my life, I took off my shirt.

I admit that at first, I sucked in my gut. But then I realized, I had no one to impress. My wife's hot ass friend wants to see my torso. I wanted her to as well.

When Laila's French manicured fingers ran over my belly, I was so hard that my shorts were six inches at attention. I cannot recall the exact words she said...

Something about it being time to go upstairs. Something about look out the window. Look at Laila. Isn't she gorgeous?

Do you know how much I want her? She flirts with me. I never even kissed a woman and I want her all the time. And I want you. You are your wife's, but I need cock. I need a man without a fat belly/

Do you know how many times in the past year I had fucked myself, thinking that Raisa was right here in my house? All the time...

Did you know that I wanted you too?

Did you know that my wife talks about your body and the gym?

We opened the curtains and watched Raisa. We kept Laila's bikini on. I felt everything but I loved that suit. We watched Laila and I rubbed my cock against the most gorgeous ass I had ever seen.

She kissed my stomach and thighs and told me to tell her what Raisa looked like. I had to stop because I could not concentrate with the kids playing nearby. I had to concentrate on Laila and when she slipped my hardness into her mouth, I told her that I wished that my wife was there. My wife liked to jerk me off in public. It was our thing. But a beautiful woman had to be there. Like Laila. Like right now.

Laila got up and kissed me, stroking me, stroking herself, telling me that she loved that I loved my wife while I was with her. She was not being sarcastic. She told me that she loved us both. She could not be with Raisa since it would ruin everything.

But my wife was generous. Laila's breasts were generous.

I pulled the bikini bottom aside and I stuck my tongue into her hairless (!) pussy. She came in seconds. Amazing.

I asked Laila to jerk me off while she told me how much she wanted me and for how long (a lot; and pretty much since we met two years ago). I was in heaven. She told me that other women wanted me too.

When I came into a blouse I found on her bed, I was not racked by my usual guilt. When my friend's wife revenge-fucked me (he was a cheat; she need closure; I obliged -- three times), I felt badly for hours afterwards.

This was different. This was wonderful.

We lay in bed together for some time. Laila jerked me off twice more. She came once more with her vibrator; me telling her that Raisa was watching (again, over in seconds).

Anyhow, I will write about the ensuing weeks and months in later stories. I will say this: we understood how much we needed this. It was wonderful while it lasted.

She is still our friend. But that is a long story.