You Choose

Sally Lincoln

I had been lazy all day, still in my favorite terrycloth bathrobe when I answered the insistent knocking on the door.

"I need help."

"What is it?" I said, ushering her inside. The door clicked shut on the sun drenched afternoon, and my fingers fiddled with a strand of hair. How I must look to her?

My neighbor, Alyssa McDonald, flowed into a chair at the cheap kitchen table Allen and I received as a wedding present years ago, and was very happy I'd cleaned up last night's dishes, even if it was only minutes earlier.

Alyssa always looked like she'd just come from a hair stylist. I frowned, unlike myself, especially today. Hadn't even taken a brush to my sleep-matted hair, and I'd been up . . . a quick glance at the wall clock, told me it'd been five hours.

Allen's inherited grandfather clock in the living room chimed one to confirm it.

"Before you tell me what's wrong, I can make coffee, but only have Boone's Farm in the frig."

Her nose wrinkled at the invitation, but she said, "bring out the animals. I need a drink."

Something definitely bothered Alyssa, for she doesn't like wine.

We were on our second glass each when she opened up. "I'd like to give Rod something he's never had before."

"Oh, It's your husband's birthday?"

"No," she said, her frown tossed the absurdity of my words with the ease a professional wrestler threw an amateur opponent. "I just want to give him something special, and I'm having trouble coming up with something appropriate. What do you think?"

Considering the emphasis she put on the word 'special,' made the sentence almost sound dirty. I'd put Rod and Alyssa in the not so adventuresome category, especially in the bedroom. There were no facts concerning this, just that they're so ordinary. They have two children, a girl, Cynthia, age fourteen, and Rodney twelve, and live across the street from Allen and I in this small neighborhood of Minden, New York. Seems like the worst thing they do on Sunday is holding hands.

"I do mean sexually," Alyssa said, nodding her head, and making 'big eyes' which was more funny than serious, "and stop looking so shocked."

"We've known each other since before the children, and mentioned sex . . . maybe a handful of times, but never talked . . . intimate relationships. I'm just a little surprised."

"If you'd rather not . . ."

Her voice trailed off as I toyed with the condensation rings on the Formica tabletop before answering, "It's fine."

"Good, because this is an important week," she went on, "Rod was promoted, and I've been trying without success to find something exquisite to do for him that he will like."

"You could always bake his favorite cake."

She laughed, but it was a what-the-hell-are-you-thinking kind of hilarity.

"I was thinking something non-fattening, and what both of us would enjoy."

"Why ask me?"

"Because, you're the best friend I have, so who would I ask? The bag lady on the corner?"

"I don't know if I'm comfortable suggesting something for you and your husband to do in bed. And don't look at me that way," I said, pointing a finger in her direction. "I'm not a prude. Just never had anyone ask me about sexual situations."

"Shit girl, I really need help."

Her face crumbled in that pathetic way Alyssa used when it was something significant she needed. Compared to her, I'm probably pretty experienced and should suggest something easy.

"You could be waiting for him at the door naked when he comes home."

"Done that."

I don't think surprise showed on my face, but I was taken aback by the admission, and felt my eyebrows rise.

"I would liked to have seen that," I said.

"I'll show you," Alyssa said, and getting up, her fingers worked the buttons on her blouse.

Something I didn't expect went through me at that moment, something hot and very basic.

"Stop," I said. "Meant to say¬¬----wish I could have seen Rod's face, when he saw you naked in the doorway."

"Was funny, actually," she said, a smile growing on the ample lips, and to my undecided relief, Alyssa sat back into the chair, and leaned forward, eyes capturing mine. "He rushed inside . . . looked to see if the neighbors had seen, slammed the door and rushed me upstairs."

"Ohhh, fun, fun." I giggled, the wine breaking down some preset defenses, and I envisioned myself being carried upstairs, thrown on the bed and ravaged by a sex-starved mate. A madcap Rod had replaced Allen in my little mental video, and I shut it down quickly.

"My husband gets very excited seeing me naked," Alyssa said.

"Nothing wrong with that."

"Nothing better."

Alyssa, purposely made her boobies jiggle with a rapid rotation of her shoulders, the nipples already stiff from remembering. "You should have seen . . . what he did."

I didn't answer, but imagined.

"But, you don't want to do that again, I suppose?"

"It was really, really good, but this has to be something we've never tried."

"What would he like? Have you asked?"

"Don't have to, I know."

"Well then . . ."

"I won't do that."

What could be so bad . . . unless he was a saddest, and that I couldn't picture?

She placed her elbows on the table, and it wiggled from the increased weight. Have to get Allen to tighten the leg screws again. What was that, the third time this month? My eyes grazed the gap in Alyssa's pink blouse where she had failed to re-button it. The smooth top and half the side of a breast peeked through the opening like a flesh-colored balloon. The darkness of her long hair made that wonderful oval face pale in comparison, and I leaned back in my chair, suddenly not trusting myself. The gaze of those piercing grey eyes challenged me, passed right through my self-confidence like twin beams of light.

Deeply aware of Alyssa's trim body, I tore my eyes away. A woman has never made me feel that I'd like to experiment in that direction. I'm heterosexual damn it, but my eyes kept wanting to return. Not big in the boob department, but after each child, she had worked to get her figure back. I think of Alyssa as a friend, but it became difficult to swallow and my next words were forced.

"Have you thought," I said, making eye contact, "of giving him a sudden blow job the moment he gets home?"

This time her head bobbed, and I was getting into the idea of suggesting sexual content, and becoming more randy by the second.

"Have you let him cum in your mouth . . . men like that?"

"Honey," she said, "I've swallowed so much spunk I'm getting a mustache. How's yours?" Her hand was oven hot on my arm.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, waving the question away with one delicate hand. "Anymore wine?"

Filling our glasses from a second bottle, I sloshed some on the table.

"Ohh, don't waste it," Alyssa said, and for a second, my mind saw her full lips on the table top, slurping up the spilt liquid with cum-like abandonment.

"Oops," I'd said, but the word came out sounding like, uups, and when she laughed, I joined her.

"No problem," she said, and dipping one long finger in the liquid placed it to her lips.

I shivered as her tongue curled about the penis like digit, sucking wine over those plump, juicy lips. I confess to a wave of heat that raced across my face, making me wonder what it would have been like to suck wine from that finger. A few seconds later Alyssa said, "Come."

"Where?"

"No, wish I had some."

We both laughed again.

"If Allen was here," I blurted out the wine induced words, "I'd give his fat dick a huge, wet kiss."

"I would too," Alyssa said, and we erupted with laughter.

Then the room was silent as we wrestled with the implications of what had just taken place.

"Was that agreement I saw in your face?"

"No," I said.

"That was pretty quick, and definite."

"Allen would never go for that."

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"What do you think if both of us were waiting behind our front door when Rod comes home this evening? I trust you, and Allen wouldn't have to know."

Heat returned to my face, and I knew it was burning-red, nerves along my spine turned jelly, and my head swam.

"Alyssa, I've experimented, but never cheated on Allen."

Her forehead took on a questioning look. "What kind of experimentation?"

The question wasn't distressing, but in the quickness of my answer, all the built up defenses of years had been over-ridden, and I did indeed crave this conversation.

"I've let Allen come on my tits, and rubbed it into my skin," I said, my hands making passionate circles over my thirty-eights. I brightened. "Maybe Rod would like that."

"If you did it, I'm sure he would." She grinned, stared at what my hands were doing, making me self-conscious. I wasn't aware that I'd picked up the glass, but downing a quick swallow the burning fluid stuck in my throat, and I coughed.

"Easy girl," Alyssa said. "You all right?"

She was beside me then, rubbing my back before I could choke again. The softness of her breast under the blouse brushed my face, and I coughed again, this time to cover the little gasp that came from me. The fragrance of her body made me tremble.

"You okay?"

When I nodded, she backed away, took a sip of her own drink, and I watched as she swished the berry flavored liquid around the inside of her mouth before swallowing. Everything she did, I thought, was calculated to elicit a sexual response. Mentally, I felt the taste of air washing over her teeth with each breath she took, and the burning of her gums from the evaporating alcohol set my inner being on fire.

"Humm," Alyssa said, "top this, if you can. I've sucked and jacked Rod off, let him squirt on my face and then slurped up what missed like a suckling pig."

"I don't like that," I said.

She stared in disbelief before saying, "You don't like oral sex?"

"Oh, I like it when he does me, and I give Allen pleasure that way, I just don't like the taste."

"Ohh, too bad."

"I do firmly believe in giving for receiving, and just because I don't enjoy the taste of semen doesn't mean that I won't or don't swallow."

"Good girl," she said. "I don't know a man who doesn't love having a woman give him head, and then watch as she swallows everything."

Alyssa was warming to her subject, the words rapid, like a ball rolling downhill. "I particularly like being on bottom during sixty-nine."

"Aren't you afraid of being choked?"

Alyssa's full lips pouted, and I imagined them wrapped around her husband's member, him thrusting, his man things slapping against her nose and forehead. Her voice broke my sexual reverie.

"Rod is considerate," she was saying, " but there are times when I want it a little rough."

"You enjoy being dominated?"

"Well . . . I've always loved having a dick in my mouth . . . gives me a charge, the deeper the better, and yes, I do like being dominated more than normal."

"Not me," I said. "I want control."

"Control, shit. You don't know what's good girl. If you've never tried it . . . ah hell, stick with what you know. If you enjoy the same old thing night after night, go for it. Who am I to try to change your sex life? Let's get back to my problem."

"You could always put a piece of pie in your pussy and let Al . . . Rod eat it out." The laugh that followed was very drunk, and I vowed this was my last glass of wine.

"We've done veggies," she admitted, matter-of-fact. "Rod likes it."

"What?"

"You heard . . ."

"Yes, but I just can't believe . . . I was only joking about the pie."

"I'm sure the crust would get soggy anyway," Alyssa said, her high-pitched laugh pierced the kitchen like a siren. "Besides, what's experimenting if you don't try new things?"

"That means things like Ben-Wa balls and vibrators, not food."

"I have a vibrator, but never tried¬¬----Ben-Wa balls. What do they feel like?" Alyssa asked, her tongue a pink butterfly flittering about those mouthwatering lips.

"Takes some getting used to, and they can fall out if the muscles aren't strong enough, but very pleasurable."

"Love to try them, where did you find yours?"

"In my chest of drawers," I said, trying to match her wit.

"I will admit you have a nice chest," and she reached across the table, gauging the heft of one. "Umm, heavy. I meant where you purchased your balls."

I wanted to say when I married, but her fingers feeling my boob stopped me.

"Where we get most things like that, the Internet," I said. "Didn't know which ones I'd like, so I bought two pair, and I've never tried the bigger ones, still in the package. You can have them if you want."

"Really, you don't need them?"

"I'll get them, wait here." I had to hold the back of the chair to stand straight, and waited until the swaying ceased.

"Be careful, girl, don't need you falling." She giggled. "At least not until after I get my balls played with."

"That's funny," I said, heading for the bedroom. I remembered where I'd placed the package . . . adding to it the pair I'd been using, to show her the difference.

"Here they are," I said, handing her the small parcel. "The ones I use are all metal. Those you're holding are smaller metal balls inside a larger plastic covering." I winked at her. "Supposed to give more stimulation, as they move around. Instructions inside the package."

"Shit, I thought you could show me."

I'd had just enough wine, and agreed without thought.

Her slacks were down and she was stepping out of them before I could say Jack Crap. She wore dainty pink panties with a darker pink lacing around the waistband which rolled over her hips in a second. My eyes followed as she kicked the dainty cloth into the air.

"Nice catch," I said, and she unrolled them, dropping the pink bundle to the chair.

"What now?"

"First we wash them."

My voice cracked like I'd just come from a long trip into the desert. The simple knot I'd put in the robe belt came undone, the robe opened when I moved to the sink.

"Oh," she said, "you're shaved. That's cool."

I smiled, didn't bother to pull the robe back around me. Shameless, shit-faced bitch that I am.

The cleaning process was quick and using warm water would give us advanced pleasure. I couldn't help but notice that Alyssa's bush was trimmed in a little arrow leading to the center of her pleasure spot.

"All right," she said, "how does this work?"

"Like a tampon, string outside." I pushed and the smaller ones slipped passed my guardian folds on either side and eased inside. "Like that."

I thought she watched a bit more intense than was necessary.

"Go on," I said, "put them in."

I watched as she spread the pedals of her blossoming flower, and using two fingers the happy balls slipped inside.

"See, easy as pie."

We giggled at the quip.

"And just as good to eat," she said, rubbing her pleasure button below that trimmed line of hair. "Ohh, yes," she said, Alyssa's hips rotating provocatively. "That is nice." A clunk, and Mr. Ben-Wa struck the floor.

"Told you the muscles might not be strong enough yet. Go wash your balls."

Again, hilarious drunken laughter.

When she went to the sink, I noticed that her little heart-shaped ass didn't just sway, it snapped with each step, like there was a hitch in her step. Captivating and suggestive. I could understand how a man would become attracted to that astonishing rear end. "When you're done," I said, "follow me."

Once in the bedroom, I turned to see where she was, but Alyssa was right behind me.

"On," I ordered, pointing and she flopped on this mornings newly made bed. The only thing I'd managed to accomplish today. Her light blouse ballooned, exposing breasts, that weren't as small as I had at first thought.

Sitting next to those long legs, the smell of her intoxicated my senses to the point my hands were shaking when I inserted her pleasure balls as far as my second knuckle. I'd never been this close to a strange pussy, and my nerves were on a razor's edge. The fingers I'd used to insert the device into Alyssa's vagina went to my mouth in an autonomic reaction. My taste buds flared. Better than my own secretions, my mind created all sorts of fantasies.

My long hair slipped across Alyssa's naked thigh, and she sucked in a quick, sharp breath, so I did it again.

"Now don't move around. Just clench and unclench your muscles down there to help strengthen them, and in a few days you'll be able to walk around without fearing that they'll embarrass you."

"I have to stay in your bed that long?"

"Yes," I said, half wishing that were true.

Alyssa smiled, "I can do that."

I traced an invisible line across her flat stomach, circled her belly button, and Alyssa's breath caught, her chest heaving. I bent down, planted a tender kiss right above that little dished out area of flesh. My tongue circled the rim, worked its way into the depths with annoying slowness. My lips surrounded that tiny, dry well, and I sucked the soft flesh there, wondering what she would do if I went lower.

Her breathing quickened and she whispered, "I hope you know what you're doing."

That was all the encouragement needed. My fingers took over with a mind of their own, slipping under her blouse like they had done it a thousand times. I traced the under side of one soft breast with the back of my fingers.

When I cupped a breast, she groaned, her breathing sporadic, and I was headed in the correct direction; fondling the other, taking both nipples between forefingers and thumbs, I twisted and pulled until her moaning became loud.

Alyssa took both my breasts in her warm hands, sending electrical currents through my entire body. We stayed like that for some time. Once I squeezed a little too hard, and she returned the favor. It was as if we were doing ourselves. Beyond dreaming, both of us were groaning and moaning. My heart pounded like a wild filly, and knew that my blood pressure must be hitting one-ninety.

The fleshy spot between her legs held a great fascination. Not that she was so different, the lips did seem a little larger, and with a gentle circling of that area it opened like the flower it resembled. Alyssa moaned when I pushed two fingers inside passed the first knuckle. Mr. Ben-Wa moved to the side, giving me room. I knew what I liked and spreading my fingers apart, rotated my wrist with a slow back and forth motion. The washing machine, Allen called it, and to cover my chuckle at the musing, my tongue sought her clit. Tongue and fingers brought Alyssa to the edge, but not stopping, she went over and passed, shaking with pleasure.

"Ahhh. that's sooo, good," she whimpered, coming down.

"You're not done yet."

The taste of my first pussy had my head swimming. Couldn't get enough, lapped up everything she had to give me, and wanted more. Between her legs now on my belly, both hands working those ridged post like nipples, face plastered tight, my entire mouth over her juicy sex.

I sucked and played her like a vertical harmonica, each ministration bringing inhuman sounds I'd never heard before, and reveled in each one. She pushed upward into my face, and I buried two fingers all the way inside that beautiful pussy, the third finger seeking her tight little anus.

She let out a grunt as that finger entered, and tried to move away, but I had her trapped now. All three of my fingers seemed to be rubbing together and Alyssa groaned with each thrust, moving in conjunction with me. I worked my little finger into her rectum alongside the other, stretching her sphincter as I worked on her clit with thumb and tongue. All at once her ass lifted off the bed and she convulsed. She didn't speak, but sucked in each breath as if it were being forced by a huge pump, but I didn't stop until she fell back on the bed. My fingers popped out and I ceased oral stimulation, right after giving that beautiful blossom a final kiss. For a second, I thought she'd fainted or had a heart attack, then her breathing began again, smoothing out.