Just Being Neighbourly Pt. 03

"What do you mean?" she asked, actually having the gall to look surprised. "I just want to know what my husband has been doing?"

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes.

"Ex-husband, Belinda. Ex-husband. You remember the divorce, don't you?" I asked.

"Oh that? That's okay; it just a piece of paper. We're both adults, here. I made a mistake, but it's over now. You'll take me back. I know you will."

I was wrong. This bitch must be totally and completely bat-shit fucking insane, if she thinks I'm taking her back. I'd rather do a lobotomy on myself with a plastic spoon. I'd rather have all my fingernails pulled out. I'd rather be eaten by a shark with dull teeth. I'd rather...

"Belinda, are you nuts?" I gasped, not even trying to soften it. "You cheated on me, with three men at once! I divorced you! I'm NOT taking you back."

"Oh Dan," she said softly, reaching out to touch my face. I pulled away. "You're such a man. Of course you'll take me back. I'm your soul mate. I admit... I made a mistake. But we're adults, after all. We'll get past it."

I was speechless. There were no words for how fucked up she was.

"A mistake? That's what you call fucking three men at once, then pretending it didn't happen?" I laughed. I said it loud enough that heads around us turned, and she winced. "You're right, Belinda. We are adults, and when adults make 'mistakes', there are consequences. That's what a divorce is; the consequence of breaking a promise, and hurting someone worse than anything ever had."

"I know I hurt you Dan," she said quietly after a long delay. "I'm sorry. I have no idea why I did what I did. I just needed it at the time. I'm ready to come back to you now. It won't happen again."

"This isn't a fucking job interview," I roared, losing my patience. "There's no probation period before you're expected to know what you're doing. I'm glad you said you're sorry... Finally. It's far too little, and way too late." I took a breath, and gathered myself. "The train has long since left the station. I'm with someone else now."

She seemed genuinely shocked.

"Really? Was I that easy to replace?" she asked.

What I should have said was 'YES!' Hell yes! It would take six Belindas to equal one Karen. Unfortunately, I had a moment of compassion, and softened my response.

"Of course you weren't that easy to replace, but the fact remains... I have moved on. I met a wonderful woman, and we are very happy together," I said. "It's over."

"It's never over, Dan," she said bluntly. "We were meant to be together, and I will have you back." She stood, smiled once more, and left.

I wasn't sure what had just happened. It appeared I had just enabled a stalker.

Karen was not going to like this one bit. Nope. Not at all.

***

The quandary I faced was this; if I told Karen, she would be upset, but there was little we could do at this point. Belinda, while behaving like a potential serial killer, hadn't actually done anything yet.

On the other hand, if I didn't tell her, I was keeping things from her, and even with the best of intentions, that never ends well. Oh well, here goes nothing...

"Honey?" I called out. I was in bed already, and Karen was in the bathroom. She'd been there a while.

"Almost done, baby," she sang back. "Are you ready?"

Ready? For what? I wondered. Oh my!

In the doorway... Oh god, what a vision. She had fussed tonight. Her hair was teased into a mane of flaming red, and she wore a negligee of black lace over her voluptuous curves. Definitely not dressed for trout fishing, but she was a very attractive lure. This was one fish that had already been caught, though.

"Mrowwwrrr," she growled, slinking across the room to pounce on the bed. My eyes followed the bounce caused by her pounce, and she saw them dart across her chest. "Do you like it?"

"Mmmmm, yes," I nodded. "I especially like what's in it."

"What? This old thing?" she giggled, feigning modesty.

"Well, the classics never go out of style," I replied, buttering her up.

"Classic, huh? You mean old," she pouted.

"Don't start that crap," I warned her, playfully. "Without a little ageing, even the best wine is only grape juice. I gave up grape juice when I was ten."

"I'll accept that," she smiled. "I just hope you still feel that way in twenty years. For now, let's just do what we do best."

Well, of course... That's exactly what we'll do. I had decided to tell you about Belinda's reappearance today, but I didn't say right now. Why spoil the mood? I'm honest, not stupid.

Our lips met, and I took her curvaceous body into my arms. My hands wandered unrestricted across her lace covered skin, spending some quality time on her firm ass, narrow waist, and of course, those big tits I loved so dearly. My fingers teased the thin straps off her shoulders, letting me peel the delicate garment down her torso.

Within minutes, Karen was once again naked, and on her back, with her legs wrapped around my waist. My cock was buried deep in her very slick pussy. We were face to face, tasting each other while I shafted her gently. The eye contact between us was very intimate, and intense.

"Dan?" she gasped softly, holding my head with both hands. "I don't know if I mentioned this before," she giggled, "but I really, really love what your big, thick cock does to my pussy. It's soooooooo wonderful!"

I smiled, and filed the compliment away. She had, of course, mentioned it several times, and the fact we were still together was a pretty good indication she was happy with our physical relationship. Her huffs and grunts of pleasure seemed to concur.

As for me? Well, if there was another woman in the world that better matched my wants and needs, I'd be surprised. In my years before Belinda, I had always been partial to women with curves. Several previous girlfriends had been quite well endowed, and I always loved to watch my lover's big tits bounce in response to my thrusts.

Then, for some reason that the end of our marriage made unclear, I had married Belinda, a woman who was petite, and distinctly lacking in the big boobs department.

Karen, on the other hand, checked every box on my 'perfect woman' list. Tall? Check. Beautiful? Check, check, check. Playful? Check. Breasts to die for? Check, and check. An unadulterated slut in the bedroom, kitchen, etc... for me only? Checkaroonie. Oh, and she takes it in the ass, and squirts? What more could I possibly want?

All those checkmarks were having the predictable effect on me. I was getting close to cumming myself, and she was screeching through her second orgasm, as I drilled her furiously.

"I'm gonna cum, baby," I grunted, fucking her harder. "Where would you like it?"

"Mmmm... mmmm," she smiled, "my... mouth! Give me... that... tasty... jizz!"

Roger that. Prepare for launch.

I gave her a few final strokes, and pulled out, raising up on my knees. Karen scrambled to her side, and clamped her lips around the head of my cock, pumping it with her hand. I grabbed her hair, and pulled, sinking my shaft deeper into her mouth, just as I exploded.

I grunted over and over, as I spewed into her sucking mouth. She kept stroking me, urging more sticky goo down her throat, while she moaned happily. She held fast, and sucked up every drop, before she released me, and rolled back with a smile. I fell forward, gasping for air. She snuggled closer, and we laid quiet for a few minutes.

"Um, honey?" I said softly. Karen was pressed tight against my ribs, her naked body so perfect in my embrace. We were exhausted, but recovered enough to carry on a conversation. The conversation we might have had already, if I hadn't been easily and willingly distracted by her choice of lingerie.

"Mmmmm hmmm?" she sighed. Her fingertips were tracing little playful circles around my nipples.

"I have more news," I replied. "Belinda news."

"Of course. I swear, she's intentionally trying to kill my post orgasmic buzz. What is the slut up to now?" Karen groaned.

"Well, I was getting a coffee at the Java Joint, and she was there..." I began.

It was a long story, but Karen laid there quietly, and let me lay the whole thing out for her, without interrupting. She may not have said anything, but I could see her hand clenching into an angry ball, and feel the tension growing in her previously relaxed body.

"... And the last thing she said was something about us being 'meant to be together'. I don't think she's getting the message," I finished.

"Maybe it's time to tell her harder," she growled. "Or, get the police involved."

"I'd love to, but so far all we have is two conversations at a coffee shop. Not much to base a restraining order on," I said. "I'm sure the cops would find it to be a coincidence, and tell me to grow a pair."

"Where does the bitch work? I'll go have a woman to scumbag talk with her," she said angrily.

"Um, no," I laughed. "I have no wish to visit you in prison."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," she giggled, relaxing a little. "I look terrible in orange, and jumpsuits are not my style. Catsuit? Yes. Jumpsuit? No."

"Catsuit? Now that I'd like to see," I smiled, rolling to face her. I kissed her, and felt the tension melt away. She pushed back, deciphering my plan.

"You're pretty good with the distractions, buddy," she said sternly, staring me down with her pretty blue eyes. "Nice try."

"Honey, I know she's being a pain, but right now there's nothing we can really do to stop her," I explained. "I'd be thrilled if she would just move to Timbuktu, or catch amnesia, and be out of our lives forever. But... letting her disrupt our lives is just what she wants. She wants to become a point of contention between us, and drive us apart. I hope you know that I have absolutely no interest in her anymore, honey. She burned her bridges with me, and I have no feelings for her anymore, other than contempt. I love you, and she can't change that. You do know that, right?"

"Of course," she smiled caressing my face. "You're right; she can only hurt us if we let her. I just wish she was... gone."

"Me too, baby," I nodded, holding her close. "Me too."

***

I changed the location for my daily morning caffeine fix. It seemed like the first logical step to avoid running into her again. I was hoping that she would lose interest if I could stay away for a while.

Yeah, it was a desperate, straw grasping strategy, but it was all I had right now.

The strange thing is... it seemed to work, from our end, anyway. I didn't see her for days, then weeks, but just because I didn't see her didn't mean she was going away.

Unfortunately, when we last met at the Java Joint, I had provided her with the means to find me, again; she was at a new job, but I was not. I didn't know what she was driving now, so I didn't even know what to look for as far as suspicious vehicles were concerned.

I'm not trying to suggest Belinda was resorting to disguises, and private investigators to find me. I'm sure it wasn't anything quite as melodramatic as that. No, I was simply an easy target. She knew where I would be, and approximately when I would be there. All she had to do was follow me.

Before I knew what was happening, she was back, inexplicably in line behind me at my new coffee shop.

"Hi honey," she smiled, tapping me on the shoulder.

Oh fuck, I winced, as I turned to find her there.

"Belinda... what are you doing here?" I asked. As if I didn't know. There could be no doubt she was now stalking me.

"God must want us to be together. I just walk into a random place for a coffee, and here you are!" she giggled.

God? Really? You're trying to make this whole bizarre situation a piece of divine intervention? If anything, it's the other guy, from the place with the flames of damnation. He has a spot reserved for you, you twisted bitch.

"Nice try Belinda. You followed me? Good. Keep it up," I growled.

She smiled brighter, until I finished my thoughts.

"Yeah, you keep it up. Make it easier for me to get that restraining order," I added. Her smile faded, but I had more. I turned to the woman in front of me, and anyone else who happened to be nearby.

"Excuse me, Ma'am? See this woman?" I asked, gesturing to Belinda, who was looking for a place to hide. "Her name is Belinda, and she's my ex-wife, who happens to be stalking me. If need be, can I ask you to give a statement to the police?"

I turned from talking to the stunned blonde bystander, and looked back, to find Belinda missing. I saw her casting an angry glance my way as she left the shop.

"Oh good, she's gone. Thank you, Ma'am. Sorry to bother you," I smiled.

It was an especially tasty cup of coffee, when I got it. It tasted like victory.

***

It's possible I was a little premature with that feeling. I had won the skirmish, but the war raged on behind the scenes.

When I left my office and headed home that evening, I didn't know I was being followed. In retrospect, at least I took her on a merry chase, as I had several stops to make enroute. Most of the errands were related to the house renovations, with supplies being picked up, others being ordered, and plans being confirmed with my engineering friend. The final two stops were for Karen, doing tasks she had texted me during the day.

At last, I was done, and truly heading home to my busty redhead. When I arrived, and parked in my driveway, I didn't see the silver sedan drive slowly past. Cutting through via the shortcut, I found Karen waiting for me on her front porch.

"Hi baby," she smiled, welcoming me with a kiss, and a very soft, sensual hug. "Come tell me all about your day."

I followed her through the door. She was wearing a pair of her hip hugging short shorts, so I couldn't resist caressing her sexy rump as we went. She giggled, and paused, giving me an opportunity to grope her a little more effectively, leaning back against me. I wrapped my arms around her, and cupped her substantial breasts with both hands.

"Let me rephrase that," she laughed. "Let's cum, then you can tell me about your day."

"That's the best offer I've had all day," I smiled, as she turned to kiss me again.

"It better be, or we're going to have a problem," she grinned.

At last, we were inside, and the door closed behind us. Within minutes, we were baring each other's bodies, and easing into bed, where we spent the next hour satisfying our urges.

What we didn't know is that Belinda was in the silver sedan, and had seen both where I parked, and who welcomed me next door.

She now knew where we were.

***

A couple of days after I publicly outed her at the coffee shop, I was walking to my truck after a long day of the office grind. I loosened my tie, and as I neared the driver's side door, I noticed the note on my windshield.

"Oh shit!" I gasped, expecting an apology from someone for dinging my fender, or something similar. Looking back, that would have been better.

"Still mad at me?" the note said. "I'm not giving up. We will be together again. I love you. B" It was signed with a kiss.

"MOTHER FUCKING BITCH!" I screamed, crumpling the note and throwing it angrily. "Can't this fucking woman take a hint? Son of a bitch!"

I rested my head on the cool metal of the fender, trying to regain my composure. Fortunately, there was no wind, so when I realized the note might be useful as evidence, should a restraining order be necessary, it was right where I threw it.

I took a seat in my truck, and made a call to Karen.

"Honey? I think it's time to have a talk with the police," I said sullenly. "The bitch is back."

Karen wasn't messing around. She must have hung up with me and called the cops immediately. There was a cruiser sitting in her driveway when I got home, and she was at the front door, talking to the officer as I parked. My phone pinged.

Get over here. I need your input. it said.

Hustling through the bushes, I saw Karen gesture to me, and she walked inside, followed by the cop. I was close behind.

That's when I noticed that the cop was a woman.

"Honey, this is Officer Emily Brewster," Karen said. "She's here to take a report about Belinda."

"Nice to meet you," the attractive brunette smiled, extending her hand. "I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances."

"Thank you," I replied, shaking her hand. "We don't really know what to do about my ex-wife. She's recently surfaced, and doesn't seem to understand that we're not married anymore. Any suggestions?"

"Coffee?" Karen asked. I nodded.

"Yes, thank you," Officer Brewster answered.

"Why don't we sit in the kitchen, so I can hear what's going on?" Karen suggested.

"Works for me," I smiled, and followed the two women through to the back of the house. I couldn't help noticing that Officer Brewster was pretty hot. I guess I'm still not used to women with automatic weapons.

"Okay, so tell me what's been happening," she commanded. "When did it start?..." she asked, pen poised to take notes.

Over the next twenty minutes, I told her everything I could think of. She wrote it all down.

"The divorce is final, right?" she confirmed. "She signed the papers? No resistance?"

"Yes, it's final. She had no problem with the divorce. She was fucking three other guys at the time, so I'd say no... No resistance," I growled.

"Okay," she giggled, "more than I really needed to know. We'll leave that little detail out and just call it 'infidelity'," the Officer said, scribbling madly. She took a picture of the note with her phone for evidence.

"Alright," she said, sitting back to drink her coffee. "At this point, she's really just being a pain in the butt. There's not enough here for action yet, unless you think she's a danger to either of you. No judge will grant a restraining order based on this alone, but I think you did the right thing getting it on record. You've told her to leave you alone, and if she doesn't, then you can probably proceed with official channels."

"Thank you for coming, Officer," Karen smiled. "It makes me feel better to know you think we're doing the right thing."

"Hopefully, she'll get the message now, and I won't have to come back, but if you need us, please don't hesitate to call," Officer Brewster said, handing us a card, with a file number on it. "Have a good evening."

We watched her get in her car, and drive away. Karen turned to me and smiled.

"That actually went pretty well, didn't it?" she said softly.

"Yeah, I suppose," I replied. "At least we now have a friend with a gun."

*****

So, that's how I found myself peeking over the fence, watching my ex-wife and future wife sparring verbally. While I stood transfixed, Belinda took control, stepping closer and grabbing a handful of Karen's thick, red hair. She pulled, and Karen screamed, tumbling out of her lounge.

My first thought was to call Officer Brewster, but I just knew, since the cops were so prompt when we called the first time, they were sure to arrive a few hours after we were dead this time. Call it Murphy's Law of emergency services.

I couldn't just stand here, watching helplessly while the woman I loved did battle with a psycho bitch. I gave brief consideration to jumping the fence, but I didn't think breaking my leg would be much help. I tossed my safety gear as I ran toward my gate.

I raced down my driveway, hanging an abrupt left into the bushes that separated my lot from Karen's. I stumbled, my body running faster than my feet could, and did a forward roll that brought me back upright. Another sharp left brought me to the back gate, which I burst through.