342 bdsm and the neighbour s pt1
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Turned Into Neighbours Wife Pt1 free porn video
"I'm home!" Arthur shouted as the door closed behind him. The house was mostly dark, but he could hear music coming from the kitchen. "Honey?" He flipped through the mail by the door as he deposited his keys and wallet in a small bowl by the coat rack. He made his way down the hall and into the kitchen. His wife stood behind the island with her arms folded. "There you are? What...what's up?" Her lips were pursed and her back was stiff.
"Did you forget something, Arthur?" she asked, enunciating each word carefully.
Arthur quickly scanned through his brain. His job had been taxing him more and more lately. On the drive in, he'd actually expected his wife to be happy about his on time arrival. Instead, she fumed at him from across the room. "The cookout is tomorrow," he muttered.
"And why are we having the cookout?" she asked. "This doesn't surprise me at all. My mother always said, 'Marie, that boy is nothing but forgetful. He'll only ever remember what's important to him and before you know it that won't be you.' And look, here you are, coming in at eight without the slightest idea of why I'm upset. I can see it in your face."
Arthur hung his head. "It's your birthday. I thought it was tomorrow. I mean, come on that's an easy mistake to make. We're having the party tomorrow, so we could celebrate it with everyone!"
Marie stamped her foot. "No, we're having the party tomorrow so that we could celebrate tonight. This is too much, Arthur. We can't go on like this."
Arthur started to walk over to her, but she held up her hand to keep him at bay. "Let's not overreact. I'm sure you've had your mother on the phone poisoning you against me, but this is a simple mistake. One that's been made a million times by a million other men. I've been overwhelmed at work."
"Your excuse is that other men are horrible husbands so you should get a pass? And don't you say a word against my mother." Marie hissed back at him, casting a glance over at the phone as if she expected it to ring.
"No, I'm only saying that, yes, I am forgetful, but that doesn't mean you're not important to me." A guilty voice in Arthur's head reminded him of his fatigue. It complained about having a fussy wife that didn't understand how hard he works. Arthur managed to ignore it without saying anything.
Marie brought her hand up to her brow and rubbed her temple. Despite the nature of the conversation, Arthur thought his wife looked very pretty, and it pained him with guilt to realize that she had probably dressed up for his sake. She let out a long sigh, "Forgetting my birthday is only the latest in a long string of examples. I know your work is important to you, but I didn't marry you for an hour of your time each night between when you get home and when you fall asleep in front of the television. For god's sake, Arthur when was the last time you even tried to have sex with me."
Arthur's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and anger, "Work...has...it's a lot of stress. Conversations like this one don't help either, Marie. Besides, it's to be expected after a certain time. We're not k**s any more."
"We've been married for two years, Arthur, and we're barely thirty. I've talked to my friends and even the worst among them still have sex regularly."
"You told your friends about that?" he snapped back.
"Yes," she answered defiantly. "If you're ashamed that you can't pleasure your wife, then maybe that will wake you up to how our lives are turning out. Look at me, Arthur, do you not find me attractive any more? Or is your cock just as forgetful as the rest of you."
Arthur's fists clenched. He knew she wanted to make him angry, but didn't have the patience for any of it. "I'm going to bed, happy birthday."
"Of course you are. Don't have the courage to actually stand up and fight for yourself either? Standing up seems to be a big problem with you all over." Arthur disappeared down the hallway as she yelled after him.
Marie took a slow breath. She picked up her phone and called her mother. A nasally voice answered at the other end of the line, "Well, what did he say?"
Marie replied, "He blamed it on work again."
"I told you he would."
"I think I'm ready to go through with it. I've already discussed it with...the other party."
"I think it's for the best, dear. Your happiness is most important. You need a strong man who will take care of you. I had to make the same decision all those years ago, and we were happier for it. Do you have all the ingredients?"
Marie glanced at the brown paper bag on the counter. "Yes, I bought everything this morning."
"Well, there's enough proof of what you really wanted. It can be ready by tomorrow if you start now. I better run. I'll call Sunday morning to see how it went."
They said their goodbyes and ended the call. Marie took one more cautious look down the hallway, but saw no hint of Arthur. She went to the cabinets and dug past all the casserole dishes to retrieve a black, cast iron pot.
***
The next morning, Arthur woke up feeling refreshed. It wasn't often that he had such a full night's sleep. Looking beside him, he didn't see any evidence that his wife had come to bed at all. Figuring she had slept in the spare room out of anger, he got dressed and started working on an apology. The smell of coffee and bacon filled the air around him and his stomach ached with hunger. He realized that he'd gone to bed without eating and hoped that his wife was at least not so angry to deprive him of breakfast.
Arriving in the kitchen, he found the entire table laden with food. Marie buzzed around the kitchen in a noticeably different mood than expected. "Good morning?" Arthur ventured cautiously.
"Oh, good morning sweetheart!" she replied brightly. "Breakfast is on the table. Do you want coffee or orange juice?"
This is a trap. "Um....coffee, please." Arthur made his way to the table. Cinnamon buns, eggs, grits, toast, bacon, and a variety of other wonderful smelling foods were arrayed before him. Before he could choose, Marie was beside him with a steaming cup of coffee. "What's all this for?" he asked.
"Oh, I've been up getting ready all morning and had a notion to cook," she said, her voice as sweet as honey. Without asking, she started filling his plate with a variety of the food. "I've already eaten so help yourself to as much as you can or it will all go to waste. Our guests will start arriving at eleven, so I'm going to go get dressed." She went over to the sink and started washing her hands.
Arthur still knew that this was all too good to be true. "Uh, honey? You're not mad or anything?"
Marie turned back to him with a smile. "Why would I be mad? Oh, that argument last night. Arthur, I can't apologize enough. That's probably why I've made this huge breakfast for you. You were right, of course. I spent the whole evening making myself madder and madder about something silly. Calling my mother, letting her tell me all about why I should be upset." She moved over to the table and sat down beside him. "I was up late last night thinking about it. Getting mad at you was selfish. I know how hard you work, and you had clearly planned on celebrating my birthday today. It's inconsiderate of me to expect a special night out when you're already giving up your whole Saturday for me." She kissed his forehead. "Eat up."
Arthur briefly wondered if she'd poisoned him, or if she planned on putting a knife in his back the second he looked away. For the whole time they'd known one another, she'd never let him get away with forgetting something important. Marie zipped about the kitchen for a while longer, humming to herself. This further confused Arthur. He knew how his wife acted when happy or excited, and this was a textbook example. How could she be so thrilled with herself after the tone of the previous night's conversation? Arthur pondered the odd problem as he lifted his fork to his mouth.
Pure bliss touched his tongue and his eyes widened in disbelief. These are the best eggs I've ever tasted. A ravenous hunger took hold of his mind. He shoveled another forkful into his mouth, and it tasted even better than the first. The different smells wafted up to him. He grabbed one of the cinnamon buns and took a large bite. Heavenly. He had to stop himself from shoving the whole thing into his mouth at once. Everything he tasted was unbelievably delicious. He cleared his plate and loaded up again. The more he ate the more he thought he tasted something hidden inside of each bite. Food this good was certainly impossible without some secret ingredient. Was this the poison? Was he going to gorge himself to death or become so desperate for the next bite that he chokes on his own tongue?
Then, as suddenly as the hunger had taken hold, it vanished. His stomach was full and somewhat bloated, but no more than had he overindulged on a spaghetti dinner or had one plate too many of pancakes. Curious, he took one last nibble of a piece of bacon and immediately spat it out. It tasted like ash, bitter and stinging on his tongue. The wonderful scents vanished, and the whole display of food looked revolting, though he knew it hadn't changed at all.
Arthur stood up with the intent of finding Marie and having her explain what she had put in the food, but once on his feet an overwhelming fatigue settled into every inch of his body. The meal weighed heavily in his gut and he could barely manage to stand up. Again his mind went to poison, but he did not feel any pain or really ill at all, simply very tired. Managing to stumble into the living room, he collapsed onto the couch and put his feet up. Glancing at the clock, he saw it would be two hours before anyone arrived. Their neighbor, Nick, had promised to come over at ten to help set things up. If it was poison, Nick would find him first. Come on, Arthur, she wouldn't poison you. Must be some kind of virus or something. You'll be fine. Just need a quick bit of shut eye. In moments, he was asleep.
Arthur woke to the sound of laughter from outside. The living room was dark other than light seeping in through the blinds. As he came to his senses, he heard more voices and music. Looking at the clock, he saw it was a quarter past eleven. Shit. Getting to his feet, the lack of lethargy surprised him for the second time that day. I'm sure Marie will be glad to know I enjoyed my nap and didn't help set up at all.
He peeked out through the blinds and saw his neighbors and friends standing around chatting. Plumes of smoke wafted over the backyard from the grill where he saw Nick supervising things. Looking around for his wife proved fruitless so he decided she must be somewhere in the house. After smoothing out his clothes, he checked himself in a mirror above the mantle. Arthur let out a small gasp, barely recognizing the youthful face staring back at him. After stepping closer, he realized how such small changes can make someone look wholly different. The bags under his eyes had disappeared, and the lines in his forehead and cheeks had smoothed out. He looked fresh and carefree for the first time in a decade. One hell of a nap.
He emerged from the living room and encountered a couple he knew from down the street. He welcomed them and excused himself as quickly as possible. The house was thinly populated, but different guests stopped him several times before he made it to the kitchen. Marie was indeed managing the supply of food from the kitchen while having a conversation with two of her friends. She handed them extra plates and sent them out towards the grill as Arthur walked up. "Oh there you are," she said cheerfully. "How was your nap?"
"Um, good," he replied, once again surprised by her good mood. "Why didn't you wake me? I was going to help with the set up and everything."
She briefly stopped moving about to look at him. "You looked so peaceful. I know how you struggle to get enough sleep so I left you be. No harm done. Party has only just started, and everyone's already having a good time." She went back to work, putting a large tub of potato salad into an ornate dish.
"Marie, about last night and this morning for that matter," Arthur tried to begin, but she shoved the dish into his hands.
"We can talk about it later. Suffice to say, I forgive you. If you forgive me, I mean. We've been making each other miserable long enough, Arthur. It's time we made each other happy instead. Now, take this out to the table and help Nick." She handed him a bag of hamburger buns and pointed him outside.
Arthur did as she asked, but noticed that she blushed when she looked at him. He knew his wife better than anyone, and she was blushing from excitement, not embarrassment. Wading through the party, he greeted more friends and neighbors realizing along the way that he didn't like many of his friends and neighbors. He and Marie lived in a nice neighborhood, but everyone seemed very much the same. Arthur had never noticed it before, or at least not to this degree, but all the husbands looked similar, had similar jobs, and told similar stories. Their wives hung on their arms with the same laughs and disapproving looks. Among the lot only one person stood out, Nick.
"Arty!" Nick yelled as he approached. "Hell, it's about damn time. Here let me take those." Nick grabbed the extra buns from Arthur's hands and put them off to the side. He then delved into a cooler and retrieved a beer and put it in Arthur's hand. "Marie said you were out cold on the couch. Rough night? What's with the thousand yard stare?"
Arthur gazed at his friend as though he were seeing him for the first time. They'd known Nick since they bought the house two years earlier, but Arthur wondered if he'd ever actually looked at his friend before. The other neighborhood drones, including himself Arthur realized, all had the same hunched, doughy stature of a tired office worker, but not Nick. His job as a firefighter explained his physique, but a life of being the pretty guy in the room explained his charisma. Arthur peered at his friend's broad jaw as his mouth split into an amiable smile. Nick's deep blue eyes sparkled in the noon sun as he looked back at Arthur, some small look of acknowledgment behind them that made Arthur feel both uncomfortable and calm at the same time. Arthur found himself looking at wide, strong forearms and Nick's broad chest. He imagined his friend shirtless in the sun carrying the heavy fire hoses or naked in the firehouse locker room, his manhood hidden only by a thin towel.
"Hey, Arthur!" Nick said. Arthur snapped out of it as the other man's strong hand jerked his shoulder slightly. "You alright buddy?"
"Oh, uh, yeah, sorry," Arthur replied. "Still a little asleep is all, I think." What the fuck was that? Was I fantasizing about seeing Nick naked? Arthur cleared his throat and looked away from Nick as the larger man returned his attention to the grill. Arthur opened his beer and noticed his hands shaking. His heart pounded in his chest as the sun glared down on him. He started gulping down his beer, the hoppy taste distracting him, and the cool liquid settling his stomach. Putting down the bottle, he let out a small belch. "That's better. I'm having a weird morning."
Nick cleared his throat and turned away from Arthur. "Yeah? You work too hard, I think. Marie tells me you leave at dawn and get back at eleven. You're killing yourself with that kind of schedule. I work night shifts half the time and don't have nearly that grueling of hours. Marie has been worried about you."
"She talks with you about my work schedule?" Arthur replied, barely hiding his disdain.
Nick nodded. "Not specifically. It comes up now and again though. She cares a lot about you and wants you to be happy."
His neighbor's charismatic persona had cracked. The fireman was nervous. "When have you been having these conversations with my wife?"
Nick turned back to the grill, the heat reddening his face even more. "She mentioned it this morning. Don't get yourself worked up, Arty."
"What else has she told you?" Arthur demanded, his voice becoming severe. "How often do you two talk?" Arthur's breath was hurried, and his heart pounded in his ears. He could feel the sun starting to blister the back of his neck, and the heat from grill blasted him in the face with each slight wind. "Answer me, Nick."
Nick dropped his spatula and turned to Arthur. The larger man grabbed him by the shoulder, and Arthur marveled at the strength and control his friend could so easily exert. Arthur could smell him, a mingle of sweat and smoke that was unusually pleasant. "Look, this is strange for me too. But I think it's going to work out. Try to stay calm though."
Calm? This motherfucker wants me to stay calm? He's been sleeping with my wife! I know he has. Talking about me behind my back. She probably ran to him the morning after I couldn't....perform. Bastards. I'll —
Arthur's legs buckled, and he fell into Nick's arms as the world went dark.
***
Arthur slept fitfully. He heard the voices of his neighbors asking about him in hushed tones beyond the door and the kind voice of his wife explaining that he wasn't feeling well. The door opened several times, and someone placed a cool rag on his face, but couldn't open his eyes. He dreamed bizarre dreams about a life he had not lived. In one, he was a young girl learning to sew from his mother. In another, he was a coed playing strip beer pong at a frat house and losing. He recognized the places and many of the people, but the figure at the center of it all was not him. Still, the woman had his eyes. She had a similar contour to her face. She could have been a twin sister that he never had or a close cousin. He floated above her and around her, watching as she lived a life parallel to his. Finally, he was in his own home watching Marie cook breakfast, but not for him. Instead this female doppelganger waited at the table, looking serene and beautiful. As his wife moved to her, the female him cupped her ass and squeezed. Marie returned the gesture with a long sensual kiss and a playful grope of the woman's breast. Then she returned to the stove and brought over an additional plate. The table was set for three. Arthur wondered if the spot was for him, but he knew better.
The fevered sleep finally broke, and Arthur woke up with a jolt. His clothes were soaked with sweat and his hair was damp to the touch. The house was quiet and fading orange light s**ttered across the ceiling. Late afternoon, he thought. I've been out cold for hours. He moved. At first, he felt a deep and painful ache in his muscles, but after a little stretching the feeling vanished as though ropes had been torn away. Trying to get his bearings, he perked up his ears for the sound of any movement in the house. Slight creaks drew his attention. They were coming from upstairs. A mingle of anger and dread filled his body as he stood and started towards the master bedroom.
Arthur crept up the stairs as silently as possible, but the closer he drew to the source of the noise, the more he knew that nothing short of a loud crash would draw their attention. Reaching the bedroom door, he peered in through the crack and confirmed his fears. Marie hunched over Nick, her ass bouncing up and down on the length of his cock. She craned forward to dangle her breasts over his face until his exploring mouth latched onto her nipple. His broad hands moved over her body, groping her ass and pulling her harder against his cock. Arthur knew he should feel revulsion and anger, but something rooted him in place. His wife rolled off of Nick, and the other man's cock sprang into full view. They were several feet away, but Arthur could judge it well enough. The fireman's cock was twice as thick and several inches longer than Arthur's. Marie wasted no time in shoving the thick tool into her mouth, licking and sucking all along the shaft as her hand played with Nick's balls.
"Did you forget something, Arthur?" she asked, enunciating each word carefully.
Arthur quickly scanned through his brain. His job had been taxing him more and more lately. On the drive in, he'd actually expected his wife to be happy about his on time arrival. Instead, she fumed at him from across the room. "The cookout is tomorrow," he muttered.
"And why are we having the cookout?" she asked. "This doesn't surprise me at all. My mother always said, 'Marie, that boy is nothing but forgetful. He'll only ever remember what's important to him and before you know it that won't be you.' And look, here you are, coming in at eight without the slightest idea of why I'm upset. I can see it in your face."
Arthur hung his head. "It's your birthday. I thought it was tomorrow. I mean, come on that's an easy mistake to make. We're having the party tomorrow, so we could celebrate it with everyone!"
Marie stamped her foot. "No, we're having the party tomorrow so that we could celebrate tonight. This is too much, Arthur. We can't go on like this."
Arthur started to walk over to her, but she held up her hand to keep him at bay. "Let's not overreact. I'm sure you've had your mother on the phone poisoning you against me, but this is a simple mistake. One that's been made a million times by a million other men. I've been overwhelmed at work."
"Your excuse is that other men are horrible husbands so you should get a pass? And don't you say a word against my mother." Marie hissed back at him, casting a glance over at the phone as if she expected it to ring.
"No, I'm only saying that, yes, I am forgetful, but that doesn't mean you're not important to me." A guilty voice in Arthur's head reminded him of his fatigue. It complained about having a fussy wife that didn't understand how hard he works. Arthur managed to ignore it without saying anything.
Marie brought her hand up to her brow and rubbed her temple. Despite the nature of the conversation, Arthur thought his wife looked very pretty, and it pained him with guilt to realize that she had probably dressed up for his sake. She let out a long sigh, "Forgetting my birthday is only the latest in a long string of examples. I know your work is important to you, but I didn't marry you for an hour of your time each night between when you get home and when you fall asleep in front of the television. For god's sake, Arthur when was the last time you even tried to have sex with me."
Arthur's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and anger, "Work...has...it's a lot of stress. Conversations like this one don't help either, Marie. Besides, it's to be expected after a certain time. We're not k**s any more."
"We've been married for two years, Arthur, and we're barely thirty. I've talked to my friends and even the worst among them still have sex regularly."
"You told your friends about that?" he snapped back.
"Yes," she answered defiantly. "If you're ashamed that you can't pleasure your wife, then maybe that will wake you up to how our lives are turning out. Look at me, Arthur, do you not find me attractive any more? Or is your cock just as forgetful as the rest of you."
Arthur's fists clenched. He knew she wanted to make him angry, but didn't have the patience for any of it. "I'm going to bed, happy birthday."
"Of course you are. Don't have the courage to actually stand up and fight for yourself either? Standing up seems to be a big problem with you all over." Arthur disappeared down the hallway as she yelled after him.
Marie took a slow breath. She picked up her phone and called her mother. A nasally voice answered at the other end of the line, "Well, what did he say?"
Marie replied, "He blamed it on work again."
"I told you he would."
"I think I'm ready to go through with it. I've already discussed it with...the other party."
"I think it's for the best, dear. Your happiness is most important. You need a strong man who will take care of you. I had to make the same decision all those years ago, and we were happier for it. Do you have all the ingredients?"
Marie glanced at the brown paper bag on the counter. "Yes, I bought everything this morning."
"Well, there's enough proof of what you really wanted. It can be ready by tomorrow if you start now. I better run. I'll call Sunday morning to see how it went."
They said their goodbyes and ended the call. Marie took one more cautious look down the hallway, but saw no hint of Arthur. She went to the cabinets and dug past all the casserole dishes to retrieve a black, cast iron pot.
***
The next morning, Arthur woke up feeling refreshed. It wasn't often that he had such a full night's sleep. Looking beside him, he didn't see any evidence that his wife had come to bed at all. Figuring she had slept in the spare room out of anger, he got dressed and started working on an apology. The smell of coffee and bacon filled the air around him and his stomach ached with hunger. He realized that he'd gone to bed without eating and hoped that his wife was at least not so angry to deprive him of breakfast.
Arriving in the kitchen, he found the entire table laden with food. Marie buzzed around the kitchen in a noticeably different mood than expected. "Good morning?" Arthur ventured cautiously.
"Oh, good morning sweetheart!" she replied brightly. "Breakfast is on the table. Do you want coffee or orange juice?"
This is a trap. "Um....coffee, please." Arthur made his way to the table. Cinnamon buns, eggs, grits, toast, bacon, and a variety of other wonderful smelling foods were arrayed before him. Before he could choose, Marie was beside him with a steaming cup of coffee. "What's all this for?" he asked.
"Oh, I've been up getting ready all morning and had a notion to cook," she said, her voice as sweet as honey. Without asking, she started filling his plate with a variety of the food. "I've already eaten so help yourself to as much as you can or it will all go to waste. Our guests will start arriving at eleven, so I'm going to go get dressed." She went over to the sink and started washing her hands.
Arthur still knew that this was all too good to be true. "Uh, honey? You're not mad or anything?"
Marie turned back to him with a smile. "Why would I be mad? Oh, that argument last night. Arthur, I can't apologize enough. That's probably why I've made this huge breakfast for you. You were right, of course. I spent the whole evening making myself madder and madder about something silly. Calling my mother, letting her tell me all about why I should be upset." She moved over to the table and sat down beside him. "I was up late last night thinking about it. Getting mad at you was selfish. I know how hard you work, and you had clearly planned on celebrating my birthday today. It's inconsiderate of me to expect a special night out when you're already giving up your whole Saturday for me." She kissed his forehead. "Eat up."
Arthur briefly wondered if she'd poisoned him, or if she planned on putting a knife in his back the second he looked away. For the whole time they'd known one another, she'd never let him get away with forgetting something important. Marie zipped about the kitchen for a while longer, humming to herself. This further confused Arthur. He knew how his wife acted when happy or excited, and this was a textbook example. How could she be so thrilled with herself after the tone of the previous night's conversation? Arthur pondered the odd problem as he lifted his fork to his mouth.
Pure bliss touched his tongue and his eyes widened in disbelief. These are the best eggs I've ever tasted. A ravenous hunger took hold of his mind. He shoveled another forkful into his mouth, and it tasted even better than the first. The different smells wafted up to him. He grabbed one of the cinnamon buns and took a large bite. Heavenly. He had to stop himself from shoving the whole thing into his mouth at once. Everything he tasted was unbelievably delicious. He cleared his plate and loaded up again. The more he ate the more he thought he tasted something hidden inside of each bite. Food this good was certainly impossible without some secret ingredient. Was this the poison? Was he going to gorge himself to death or become so desperate for the next bite that he chokes on his own tongue?
Then, as suddenly as the hunger had taken hold, it vanished. His stomach was full and somewhat bloated, but no more than had he overindulged on a spaghetti dinner or had one plate too many of pancakes. Curious, he took one last nibble of a piece of bacon and immediately spat it out. It tasted like ash, bitter and stinging on his tongue. The wonderful scents vanished, and the whole display of food looked revolting, though he knew it hadn't changed at all.
Arthur stood up with the intent of finding Marie and having her explain what she had put in the food, but once on his feet an overwhelming fatigue settled into every inch of his body. The meal weighed heavily in his gut and he could barely manage to stand up. Again his mind went to poison, but he did not feel any pain or really ill at all, simply very tired. Managing to stumble into the living room, he collapsed onto the couch and put his feet up. Glancing at the clock, he saw it would be two hours before anyone arrived. Their neighbor, Nick, had promised to come over at ten to help set things up. If it was poison, Nick would find him first. Come on, Arthur, she wouldn't poison you. Must be some kind of virus or something. You'll be fine. Just need a quick bit of shut eye. In moments, he was asleep.
Arthur woke to the sound of laughter from outside. The living room was dark other than light seeping in through the blinds. As he came to his senses, he heard more voices and music. Looking at the clock, he saw it was a quarter past eleven. Shit. Getting to his feet, the lack of lethargy surprised him for the second time that day. I'm sure Marie will be glad to know I enjoyed my nap and didn't help set up at all.
He peeked out through the blinds and saw his neighbors and friends standing around chatting. Plumes of smoke wafted over the backyard from the grill where he saw Nick supervising things. Looking around for his wife proved fruitless so he decided she must be somewhere in the house. After smoothing out his clothes, he checked himself in a mirror above the mantle. Arthur let out a small gasp, barely recognizing the youthful face staring back at him. After stepping closer, he realized how such small changes can make someone look wholly different. The bags under his eyes had disappeared, and the lines in his forehead and cheeks had smoothed out. He looked fresh and carefree for the first time in a decade. One hell of a nap.
He emerged from the living room and encountered a couple he knew from down the street. He welcomed them and excused himself as quickly as possible. The house was thinly populated, but different guests stopped him several times before he made it to the kitchen. Marie was indeed managing the supply of food from the kitchen while having a conversation with two of her friends. She handed them extra plates and sent them out towards the grill as Arthur walked up. "Oh there you are," she said cheerfully. "How was your nap?"
"Um, good," he replied, once again surprised by her good mood. "Why didn't you wake me? I was going to help with the set up and everything."
She briefly stopped moving about to look at him. "You looked so peaceful. I know how you struggle to get enough sleep so I left you be. No harm done. Party has only just started, and everyone's already having a good time." She went back to work, putting a large tub of potato salad into an ornate dish.
"Marie, about last night and this morning for that matter," Arthur tried to begin, but she shoved the dish into his hands.
"We can talk about it later. Suffice to say, I forgive you. If you forgive me, I mean. We've been making each other miserable long enough, Arthur. It's time we made each other happy instead. Now, take this out to the table and help Nick." She handed him a bag of hamburger buns and pointed him outside.
Arthur did as she asked, but noticed that she blushed when she looked at him. He knew his wife better than anyone, and she was blushing from excitement, not embarrassment. Wading through the party, he greeted more friends and neighbors realizing along the way that he didn't like many of his friends and neighbors. He and Marie lived in a nice neighborhood, but everyone seemed very much the same. Arthur had never noticed it before, or at least not to this degree, but all the husbands looked similar, had similar jobs, and told similar stories. Their wives hung on their arms with the same laughs and disapproving looks. Among the lot only one person stood out, Nick.
"Arty!" Nick yelled as he approached. "Hell, it's about damn time. Here let me take those." Nick grabbed the extra buns from Arthur's hands and put them off to the side. He then delved into a cooler and retrieved a beer and put it in Arthur's hand. "Marie said you were out cold on the couch. Rough night? What's with the thousand yard stare?"
Arthur gazed at his friend as though he were seeing him for the first time. They'd known Nick since they bought the house two years earlier, but Arthur wondered if he'd ever actually looked at his friend before. The other neighborhood drones, including himself Arthur realized, all had the same hunched, doughy stature of a tired office worker, but not Nick. His job as a firefighter explained his physique, but a life of being the pretty guy in the room explained his charisma. Arthur peered at his friend's broad jaw as his mouth split into an amiable smile. Nick's deep blue eyes sparkled in the noon sun as he looked back at Arthur, some small look of acknowledgment behind them that made Arthur feel both uncomfortable and calm at the same time. Arthur found himself looking at wide, strong forearms and Nick's broad chest. He imagined his friend shirtless in the sun carrying the heavy fire hoses or naked in the firehouse locker room, his manhood hidden only by a thin towel.
"Hey, Arthur!" Nick said. Arthur snapped out of it as the other man's strong hand jerked his shoulder slightly. "You alright buddy?"
"Oh, uh, yeah, sorry," Arthur replied. "Still a little asleep is all, I think." What the fuck was that? Was I fantasizing about seeing Nick naked? Arthur cleared his throat and looked away from Nick as the larger man returned his attention to the grill. Arthur opened his beer and noticed his hands shaking. His heart pounded in his chest as the sun glared down on him. He started gulping down his beer, the hoppy taste distracting him, and the cool liquid settling his stomach. Putting down the bottle, he let out a small belch. "That's better. I'm having a weird morning."
Nick cleared his throat and turned away from Arthur. "Yeah? You work too hard, I think. Marie tells me you leave at dawn and get back at eleven. You're killing yourself with that kind of schedule. I work night shifts half the time and don't have nearly that grueling of hours. Marie has been worried about you."
"She talks with you about my work schedule?" Arthur replied, barely hiding his disdain.
Nick nodded. "Not specifically. It comes up now and again though. She cares a lot about you and wants you to be happy."
His neighbor's charismatic persona had cracked. The fireman was nervous. "When have you been having these conversations with my wife?"
Nick turned back to the grill, the heat reddening his face even more. "She mentioned it this morning. Don't get yourself worked up, Arty."
"What else has she told you?" Arthur demanded, his voice becoming severe. "How often do you two talk?" Arthur's breath was hurried, and his heart pounded in his ears. He could feel the sun starting to blister the back of his neck, and the heat from grill blasted him in the face with each slight wind. "Answer me, Nick."
Nick dropped his spatula and turned to Arthur. The larger man grabbed him by the shoulder, and Arthur marveled at the strength and control his friend could so easily exert. Arthur could smell him, a mingle of sweat and smoke that was unusually pleasant. "Look, this is strange for me too. But I think it's going to work out. Try to stay calm though."
Calm? This motherfucker wants me to stay calm? He's been sleeping with my wife! I know he has. Talking about me behind my back. She probably ran to him the morning after I couldn't....perform. Bastards. I'll —
Arthur's legs buckled, and he fell into Nick's arms as the world went dark.
***
Arthur slept fitfully. He heard the voices of his neighbors asking about him in hushed tones beyond the door and the kind voice of his wife explaining that he wasn't feeling well. The door opened several times, and someone placed a cool rag on his face, but couldn't open his eyes. He dreamed bizarre dreams about a life he had not lived. In one, he was a young girl learning to sew from his mother. In another, he was a coed playing strip beer pong at a frat house and losing. He recognized the places and many of the people, but the figure at the center of it all was not him. Still, the woman had his eyes. She had a similar contour to her face. She could have been a twin sister that he never had or a close cousin. He floated above her and around her, watching as she lived a life parallel to his. Finally, he was in his own home watching Marie cook breakfast, but not for him. Instead this female doppelganger waited at the table, looking serene and beautiful. As his wife moved to her, the female him cupped her ass and squeezed. Marie returned the gesture with a long sensual kiss and a playful grope of the woman's breast. Then she returned to the stove and brought over an additional plate. The table was set for three. Arthur wondered if the spot was for him, but he knew better.
The fevered sleep finally broke, and Arthur woke up with a jolt. His clothes were soaked with sweat and his hair was damp to the touch. The house was quiet and fading orange light s**ttered across the ceiling. Late afternoon, he thought. I've been out cold for hours. He moved. At first, he felt a deep and painful ache in his muscles, but after a little stretching the feeling vanished as though ropes had been torn away. Trying to get his bearings, he perked up his ears for the sound of any movement in the house. Slight creaks drew his attention. They were coming from upstairs. A mingle of anger and dread filled his body as he stood and started towards the master bedroom.
Arthur crept up the stairs as silently as possible, but the closer he drew to the source of the noise, the more he knew that nothing short of a loud crash would draw their attention. Reaching the bedroom door, he peered in through the crack and confirmed his fears. Marie hunched over Nick, her ass bouncing up and down on the length of his cock. She craned forward to dangle her breasts over his face until his exploring mouth latched onto her nipple. His broad hands moved over her body, groping her ass and pulling her harder against his cock. Arthur knew he should feel revulsion and anger, but something rooted him in place. His wife rolled off of Nick, and the other man's cock sprang into full view. They were several feet away, but Arthur could judge it well enough. The fireman's cock was twice as thick and several inches longer than Arthur's. Marie wasted no time in shoving the thick tool into her mouth, licking and sucking all along the shaft as her hand played with Nick's balls.
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