Chapter 2: Debbie's new life
The porch swing creaked against its hooks, a slow complaint that matched the rhythm of the afternoon. Debbie had one bare foot hooked on the floorboard to keep it moving. The boards were hot under her heel, sun-bleached and gritty with dust, and the air smelled of cut grass and the sweet rot of the crabapple tree at the corner of the lot.
Across the street, John Small was pretending to prune his roses.
He had been at it for an hour. The roses needed nothing, which was the joke of it. He would snip at a stem, step back, glance over his shoulder, and find something else to fuss at. Every third glance landed on her.
Debbie let him look. She had on the thin yellow sundress with the straps that slid, and she had cut the tag off it two days ago and never once worn anything under it. When she shifted, the cotton pulled and the shadow between her tits went deep and dark. When she sat, the hem rode high on her thighs.
Three weeks since she opened the door and let him in. Three weeks of mornings at the kitchen window with coffee going cold, of standing a little too long in the light with the blinds up. Sometimes she wore the robe. Sometimes just the towel, still damp, tucked low under her arms. Twice she had let it drop while she reached for the sugar and watched his face go red all the way to his hairline.
He always came over if she waved. He always stood in the doorway like a man who wasn't sure he was allowed.
Bob left for work at six and kissed her on the mouth like nothing had changed, which was the strangest part. Nothing had changed, and everything had. He'd caught her at the window one morning in nothing but the coffee mug and laughed, low and pleased, and said, Go on, let look."
So she went on.
The shopping trip had been her idea, a test she set for herself on a Thursday when the heat climbed to ninety before noon. She drove to the plaza on Route 9 and parked in the far row so she'd have to walk the whole lot. The top was pale blue, cut low and wide at the neck, and every time she bent over a bin it pulled away from her chest and gave whoever stood in front of her a look at her breasts and nipples. She bent over three bins before she found the lightbulbs she didn't need.
A stock boy in a green apron watched her the entire time. He was maybe twenty, with a rash of acne along his jaw. She asked him where the reflector lightbulbs were, though she was standing right in front of them, and when he answered she smiled, watching his eyes as they stared at her breasts. She thanked him her eyes watching him stare at her breasts and go wide when she lent down and took her time deciding which one she would select, even though they were all the same.
She wore the short skirt without panties to the hardware store the next time. Nothing between her and the leather seat of the car. Nothing when she walked the aisle, and the air conditioning hit her legs and made her shiver so hard she had to brace a hand on the shelving. She bought walked the aisles looking for something, stopping and reaching high, or bending at the waist, dropping to sit on her ankles, her legs separating when she knew she had an observer. She was approached by the staff offering to help, she smiled chuckled as she realized her knowledge of hardware was limited and most of the time she had to say, 'just looking.'
The hardware store was her favorite so far. Men of all shapes and sizes. Most of them willing to look at what she offered, an occasional disapproving look, but the majority more than willing to stare at her look at what she was showing. She got better at judging who she should flash. Definitely tradies every time, with older men being the ones giving her the disapproving looks. She had learnt the names of more hardware ans when approached she would name a product without a pause. She bought bags of pitting mix and took to offer to load it into her car, surprised when two of the staff members came out to help.
She seemed to have trouble getting the back seat to fold, it required so much wiggling and bending. She had specifically chosen a top that would expose her breasts and she knew just how to move to pop a nipple or two out. Her shirt was long enough to keep her covered as long as she wasn't bending. She dragged the seat lowering as long as possible, then she lent fully into the car to move things out of the way. Her heart was racing as she pictured one of the men moving up to her and pushing his cock into her pussy, fucking her in the parking lot. When she finally moved the last item and stood next to the car her breathing was short and deep, her nipples were pushing hard into the top, and her pussy was wet. When the first man moved up to her she drew in her breath sharply and her face flushed red. He looked at her, a deer in the headlights. She looked down at his erection pushing against his pants. She wanted to touch it.
They loaded the car, the silence deafening in her ears. She stood there next to the car. Too close to them as they moved past her and put the potting mix into the back. They finished and she thanked them. The turned and left. She got into the car, her hand going straight to her pussy. She put her hand under her top and pinched and pulled her nipples as her other hand rubbed her pussy, her orgasm hitting her quickly. Her body jerking and her head pushing back into the head rest. Her eyes opening, looking straight at a tradie, he was cute,standing watching her, a nice set of shoulders and biceps, blue eyes looking a little shocked at what he was seeing. Debbie smiled and took her hand out of her top and off her pussy, She put them on the steering wheel, her face red, her chest still heaving from the orgasm. She kept staring into his eyes.
He moved one, shaking his head, She glanced into the side mirror and saw him look back at her as he moved towards the store. She was now going to be a story at a building site. She clenched her legs together as the thought crossed her mind. Seh started the car and went home.
Bob got home at five and found her on the porch with a pile of potting mix, but no plants or pots to put it in.
He sat down beside her. The swing took his weight with a groan.
"Where'd you actually go?"
"The Home Depot. The one with the bad parking."
"And?"
She told him. Starting from the beginning. The bin, the stock boy, the apron, the dropped box. The first visit to Home Depot, the cold air, the long walk back to the car with her thighs pressed together. The other stores she had visited. She told him about today. She left out the part where she thought of one of them fucking her in the parking lot. She told it with an even tone, like a report, because that was how it had to be told if she was going to get through it.
Bob was quiet a minute. His hand found her knee and squeezed once, hard.
"You went out with nothing on under your skirt."
"All afternoon."
"You liked it."
"I loved it," she said.
He stood up with a grunt and pulled her by the wrist into the house. The sliding door chattered shut behind them. He had her bent over the kitchen counter before she'd finished laughing, one hand flat between her shoulder blades, the other pushing the hem of the sundress up over her hips.
"Tell it again," he said. "The men loading your car."
She told it again while he worked two fingers into her, wet to the knuckle in a second, and she had to stop and start and stop. He got his cock out of his jeans and drove into her in one long push and she felt how slick she was around him, how easy he went in, and the sound of it was filthy in the empty kitchen. She kept talking. He fucked her like he was punishing her and rewarding her at the same time, fast and steady, thumb jammed into her ass, until she came with her cheek against the counter and her hand knocking the fruit bowl sideways.
Bob finished inside her and stayed there, breathing hard on the back of her neck.
"You're a menace," he said.
"You're the one who started this."
He laughed into her hair. "Yeah. I did."
Evening now. The sun had dropped behind the Corwins' roof and the porch was gold and then grey. Debbie sat sideways in the swing with her knees drawn up, the sundress pooled in her lap, and she watched Bart's house next door with the flat patience of a woman who had plenty of time.
She thought about him constantly, mainly she thought about his cock. the feeling of that cock in her pussy. Not just the night, though the night came back in pieces at odd hours, his hands on her hips, the blunt pressure of him, the marks he'd left that had faded and disappeared. She thought about all of it. Bart, John, Bob. Strangers in a parking lot. A room with a bed in it and men standing around it waiting their turn, and her in the middle, and no one asking her name.
It was a fantasy she'd had a hundred times. She'd never once said it out loud.
She was about to.
"Hey."
Bob came out carrying two glasses of iced tea. He handed her one and took the other chair, the wicker one that creaked when he leaned back.
He watched John's porch light click on across the street. Then he watched Bart's dark windows.
"How long are we going to do this?" he said.
"Do what?"
"This." He tipped his glass at the neighborhood. "You standing in windows. Me coming home hard every day."
Debbie drank her tea and said nothing.
"I've been thinking," Bob said. "About a Saturday. Both of them here at once."
Her stomach dropped, slow and hot.
"Say that again."
"A Saturday," he said. "You, me, John. And Bart. We have all fucked you, Bart and me at the same time. What about the tree of us together?"
She looked at him for a long moment. Across the street, John's porch light burned steady and yellow. The swing creaked as she set it moving with one bare foot, and somewhere behind the Corwins' house a dog started barking at nothing at all.
Debbie set her glass down on the boards beside the swing. The ice had melted an hour ago and the tea tasted like nothing. She put her other foot on the floor and stopped the swing dead.
"John wouldn't," she said.
"John's a man," Bob said. "He's just polite about it."
"He's lonely."
"So's Bart." Bob tipped back in the wicker chair until it complained. "Lonely's not the same as shy. Bart's been circling this house for two months. He's waiting on an invitation he already got."
Debbie looked across the street. John's window glowed yellow behind the curtain. He'd hung the curtain himself, she'd watched him do it, standing on a kitchen chair with a level he didn't need.
"I don't know what I'd do if they both walked in," she said.
Bob laughed at her. "Yes you do."
"No, I—"
"You've been chewing on it all week. I can see it on your face when you come in from the window." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "So tell me. Tell me what you see."
She shut her eyes.
The knock came at ten in the morning, and it was John first because Bob had phoned him the night before and told him to come early. John stood on the step with a bottle of wine he didn't know how to hold right, smiling at her like he might be sent home.
Then Bart's truck rolled up behind him and Bart climbed out with a six-pack under one arm and a look on his face like he owned the porch.
Bob opened the door for both of them. He took the wine, took the beer, and put them on the counter. He didn't say anything for a minute. He just stood there with his arms folded and let them look at her, because she'd come down in the robe and the robe had nothing under it.
"This is what it is," Bob said. "She wants both of you. She's wanted it for weeks. You're here because I asked you here."
Bart pulled a chair out, turned it backwards, and sat down with his arms across the back of it. "About time," he said.
John looked at her and then away. His hands were flat on his knees and his knuckles were white.
She untied the robe and let it drop.
Bart made a low sound, the kind he'd made in her kitchen three weeks ago. John just breathed out slow through his nose, like a man setting something heavy down.
"On your knees," Bob said.
She went down on the kitchen tile. Bart got up and unfastened his jeans and pushed them to his thighs. His cock came out heavy and half-hard already, thick at the root, and it rose while she watched it. She took it in her hand and it was warm in a way she'd forgotten, that specific heat.
She got her mouth around the head and the taste of him hit the back of her tongue, salt and skin and the soap he used. She took him deeper, and he put his hand on the back of her head and held her there until she gagged. Spit ran down her chin onto her tits. He pulled out, slapped the wet length of it against her cheek, and pushed back in.
Behind her, John had taken his cock out too and was stroking it slow, watching, his face red up to the hairline.
"Both hands," Bob said.
So she took Bart in her mouth and John in her fist, and she worked them at different speeds, and the kitchen got loud with the noise of it. Bart's grip tightened in her hair. He fucked her face in short strokes that made her eyes water, and she kept her throat open for him and let the drool go where it went.
Bob lifted her by the arm and bent her over the table. Her tits pressed flat against the wood, cold and hard on the nipples. Bart stepped up behind her and dragged two fingers through her cunt, and she was so wet it made a sound. He pushed the head of his cock against her and slid in to the hilt in one long stroke that lifted her up onto her toes.
She cried out, and John moved to the end of the table and fed his cock into her open mouth, and after that there was no talking.
Bart fucked her like he was owed something. Slow, deep pulls all the way out and all the way back in, until she was pushing back at him to get him faster. He wouldn't. He put one hand on her hip and the other flat between her shoulder blades and held her down on the table and took his time.
Then a thumb at her ass, wet with her own slick, pressing in while he stayed buried in her cunt. She made a sound around John's cock that wasn't a word.
"You had this before," Bart said.
She nodded, her mouth full.
"Then take it again."
He worked the thumb in to the knuckle and left it there while he stroked her cunt, and the stretch of it made her come hard, her knees going, John's hands catching her shoulders so she didn't slide off the table.
When she came down, Bart pulled out and spat in his palm and pushed into her ass. She felt every inch of it go in. John was back in her mouth and she could hear the wet suck of it, and Bob stood at the end of the counter with his jeans open and his cock in his hand, watching, saying nothing.
Bart came first, deep in her ass, grinding in and holding until he was done. Then John pulled out of her mouth and finished across her tits and her neck, hot stripes of it, and Bob came last, over her back.
Nobody moved for a while. Her cheek was stuck to the table by a wet spot and her legs were shaking.
"That's enough," Bob said, and she opened her eyes.
The porch was dark now. John's light was still on across the street, and the moths were going at it. Her tea was cold and her hand had gone numb around the arm of the swing.
"Jesus," she said.
Bob was watching her.
"You want it."
" I don't think it is a good idea. They are our neighbors, we live next to them."
Bob watched her mind working, the gears turning as she weighed the pros and cons. She was being logical, trying to talk herself out of what her body clearly wanted. He wasn't about to force her into anything though. This was their little adventure, something that once started could never be taken back or forgotten.
"Let me sit with it. We don't need a decision now."
bob gave a slow nod and rose to his feet, guiding Debbie back inside. The rest of the evening passed in mundane normalcy until they found themselves in bed later that night. Bob's cock was still rock hard, demanding attention as he pressed his wife for details about the men at the hardware store. How many had she actually flashed? What exactly had they gotten to see? As his fingers expertly circled her swollen clit, he studied her face, captivated by this new, daring side of Debbie that she was showing him. He'd always carried a nagging suspicion that he'd pressured her into these exhibitionist games in the past, but it was becoming crystal clear that tonight it was she who wanted to be seen, wanted to be watched. He could practically see her pussy dripping with excitement as she recounted the events., her eyes looked like she shifted off into other thoughts at times, nut he didn't ask. She would tell him if she wanted to.
Debbie looked at Bob, "Fuck me," she said, her voice heavy with her arousal.
Bob moved on top of her and pushed inside. He dropped his face to the pillow beside her head. As he fucked her he thought of the men at the hardware store, taking her into a back room and each of them fucking her. He could see her as she was telling them to go harder, her body reacting to a cock in her ass as another fucked her pussy. A cock fed into her mouth. He picked up his pace. The images and imagined sounds filling his brain as he fucked her hard, the bed head banging into the wall.
Debbie, spread her legs wide as bob got on top and pushed into her. He settled with his head beside hers. Going straight to giving her hard deep fuck. Just like she imagined Bart would do. Nothing soft and sensual. She pictured the slight sneer on his face as he used her, as he pushed into her and fucked her hard. Fucking her for his pleasure and not for hers. Something about him using her got her heart racing faster and made her pussy wetter. Until that night Bob was mostly tender and loving, occasionally he would fuck her harder, usually after they had been out and he had convinced her to flash someone or he had watched her flirt a little with a stranger.
Debbie felt her orgasm building, she let her self go and her moaning got louder and louder, her hands gripping his back as his cock pistoned in and out of her pussy. The picture of Bart and his large cock erupting into her pussy sent her over the edge an she dropped her hands to the bed, her knuckles going white as they gripped teh sheet, her body convulsing and jerking. Bob pushed in hard and emptied his load into her pussy, a loud low groan as she felt his cock pulse again and again, filling her pussy.
He pulled out and rolled off of her, His chest heaving as he regained his breath. Debbie lay still, her body relaxing, her legs still spread wide, her pussy leaking come onto the bed. He heart beat fast and loud in her ears. Her body tingling, with the nerves in her pussy firing causing her pussy to tighten. They lay like that until their breath was normal and their heart rate slowed. Debbie got up and went to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet, her body twitching when she wiped herself with the toilet paper, She could believe how her body was reacting with the slightest stimulation. How quickly she got aroused and wet.
She felt more open and free to be sexual.
She returned to bed. Bob had turned on his side and he was asleep. His slow breathing the only noise in the room.
Debbie lay on her back. Her hand took her fingers back to her clit. Her body need it again. She closed her eyes and pictured Bart's cock moving to her face, her mouth opening and her mouth being fucked. His cock being pushed down her throat and the pressure of his hands behind her head as he used her mouth, She felt her orgasm building, she slowed a little, she wanted this to last longer.
She circled her clit and moved a hand to her nipple, pulling at it, tugging it. Pinching it until a moan escaped her mouth. Bsrt was fucking her again, she was being pushed up against a wall, she was looking over his shoulder as people walked past watching her being fucked. She increased the speed of her fingers rubbing her clit her other hand still working her nipple, swapping to the other breast them back. Her back arched as her body responded. She pictured a crowd around her and Bart, her legs were around his waist, his hands under her ass as held held her and drove his cock into her pussy. He body bouncing with each thrust, her breasts a blur as he fucked her harder. Then she came, loud, waking Bob from his sleep. He looked over to see his wife in the throws of a powerful orgasm.
His cock instantly hard again. When she finished he rolled her onto her stomach and mounted her. She was so wet his cock slopped into her, a grunt coming from her mouth as he bottomed out. He moved her hands above her head holding thing and pushing them down onto the bed. Debbie loved the feeling of the slight restraint and pushed her ass back into him. Bob started ling deep strokes, taking his cock almost all the way out and pushing back in until he hit against her ass. He set an even rhythm, his mouth next to her ear.
"So what were you thinking?" He asked Debbie. Fucking teh air out of her lungs at the end of each thrust.
Debbie wasn't ready to name the cock.
"Getting fucked in front of a crowd. People watching me being fucked hard"
Bob moved up onto his elbows them spun them around. Debbie on top, her head back on his shoulder. He grabbed her legs behind her knees, pulling them back and wide.
Debbie felt incredibly exposed in this position. Bob started to fuck her hard as he held her legs. Thinking about Debbie taking her clothes off and being fucked in a group of people.
Debbie thought of Bart's cock pushing into her pussy and fucking her, The stretch of her pussy and feeling of being used, fucked.
Bob fucked her until he came, pushing into her. His cock depositing another load of come in her pussy. He released Debbie and she rolled off. Tuning to kiss him on the lips.
She looked at his, her face barley visible form the street light. She kissed him again. "I love you," she said as she lay her head on his chest.
He placed a hand on her should and kissed the top of her head. "I love you too."
They fell asleep.
Bob came home the next day and Debbie was in the kitchen preparing dinner. She smiled at him as he came through the front door. He saw she was in a new, thin sundress. He moved up behind her and pushed into her ass as he moved his hands to hold her breasts.
Debbie pushed back and smiled.
"New dress," Bob said looking down the top noting it was unbuttoned so it only just concealed her nipples.
Debbie smiled again. "I picked up a few things today," she said in a sultry voice.
"I may have accidentally shown a nipple or two to men waiting for their wives. The least I could do."
"Love a naughty girl," Bob said as he squeezed her breasts then pinched her nipples.
"That isn't going to get dinner on the table."
Bob ignored her and he stepped back a little. She heard his zipper come down and his cock press into her. She lent forward as his hands moved to her hips. Her hand went back and guided his cock into her pussy. He fucked her at the kitchen bench. A fast hard fuck.
Debbie braced her self as Bob fucked her, holding her hips tightly as he plunged his cock in and out of her pussy. Debbie dropped her head, her mind replacing Bob with Bart. The grip would have been harder and the fucking rougher. She pushed back to meet the thrusting of the cock in her pussy. Bob stiffened and his cock pulsed as he came.
He pulled out moved to the nearest stool. Debbie straightened and turned to him, her breast were out of her dress. She left them and stood in between Bob's thighs, kissing him as her body melted into his. She looked at him. Knowing he was going to ask for the details of the shopping.
She moved her mouth to his ear and whispered the details of what she did when she was shopping. Of the men waiting for their wives to finish shopping, how the curtain wasn't quite closed. Her pretending she didn't realize as she stripped out of her clothes. Making sure they got see all sides. One man even got a long view of her bending over at the waist.
"Did you want them to fuck you?" Bob asked in a voice that sounded a little strained.
Debbie kept her mouth next to his ear.
"Would you want them to?" Her breathing quickened as she asked the question. Waiting for Bob to give his answer, knowing what the answer could mean.
"Yes," escaped Bob's mouth with a rush of breath.
Debbie felt he pussy clench, her breath stop. Bob wanted her to be fucked again.
"Do you want to be there?" She asked her heart pounding and her pussy throbbing.
"Yes."