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Jay’s neighbour moved in three months ago.  Three months and seven days to be precise.  He could remember the exact moment that she got out of her car that Saturday morning.

His wife could remember it too, but couldn’t be as accurate as her husband about the date.

Jay recalled being drawn by the woman’s long blonde hair and fresh complexion set against a fawn mac.  He also recollects that his wife was annoyed with him.  She had whispered, ‘Don’t stare’ under her breath.  He hoped that his partner of a decade didn’t realise that though he had only seen this new arrival on the street for a few seconds, he really fancied her.  So, Jay made light of the moment and forced himself to look ahead down the road as the couple drove off for their weekend shop.

He didn’t look back, but he didn’t need to.  The image stuck with him.  The collar of her mac was flicked up giving her a jaunty, preppy look.  The mac itself was unbuttoned and she had a red scarf tied tight around her neck, together with a crisply ironed white shirt.  She was wearing jeans, which ended a few inches above her ankle as current fashions dictate.  And she was wearing red, stiletto court shoes.  She oozed class.  She looked the part – the scarf and heels matched.  Moreover, this was not the attire of someone who was going to do much of the hard work when the removal van arrived.  She was clearly going to project manage it.  This was a woman with status and power.

But, as Jay drove away from this beauty, he could not help thinking about those stilettos.  Wearing killer heels like that when you move house was some statement.  And it was a statement that chimed greatly with Jay.  He didn’t know that she had headed straight from work and that within a few minutes of her arrival at her new abode she had kicked off her heels, slipped out of that shirt and pulled on a T-shirt and flat, canvas pumps.  She was not afraid of hard, physical work.

Jay hadn’t clocked another car parked further up the drive.  She was married and her husband was already getting things sorted in the house.

Jay and his wife had called round later that evening to introduce themselves and to bring a bottle of prosecco to toast the arrival of their new neighbours – Carla and Dean.  Jay tried to focus as much as he could on Dean but found himself being drawn all the time to Carla.  Sometimes it was her hair or her delicate well-manicured hands, but more often it was her ankles, butt and her eyes.  God, those eyes.  They seemed to be whispering to him, urging him to come round again.

They had gone round again – for a meal about a fortnight later.  And Jay and his wife had acted as hosts in return about six weeks ago.  But that was it.

Well, that was it as far as Jay’s wife was concerned.

But Jay had managed to ‘bump’ into Carla a fair few times after their meal dates.  He noted when she left for work in the morning and all too often just happened to be leaving himself at the same time.  That presented him with an opportunity for a smile and a few words.  When he saw she was in the garden, he would be out cutting his grass.  And when she was home alone one weekend, and his wife had taken the kids to see her parents, he even offered to cut her grass.  She’d happily accepted.

Jay really liked Carla.  But it wasn’t love.  No, he still loved his wife.  It was – quite simply – lust: he really wanted to have sex with his new blonde, hot neighbour.

Sex with Jay’s wife was fine.  They made love once a week, usually at the weekend.  It was sweet, loving, gentle and, well, just fine.  But it was just fine.  Jay desperately wanted more; his wife clearly didn’t.  Their sexual repertoire was limited, to say the least.  Spoons and missionary.  That was about it.  It used to annoy Jay so much.

Every day he drove past a factory on his way to work, and they had a sign up outside saying the number of days since their last accident.  They were clearly only too keen to show off the fact that it was nearly three years since they had experienced any mishap.  Jay always thought as he passed this sign of a statistic of his own – the number of days since he had last had a blowjob.  Three years and counting.

However, he was quick to rationalise.  His wife was a super mother, cared for the family, did more than her share of household chores and was a lovely, lovely woman.  Super mother, great cook, wonderful wife.  But also a lousy lover.

And when Jay had tried to raise the whole issue about their rather dull sex life, she instantly closed the conversation down.  She would also do that woman thing and confide in friends.  Of course, they all understood her situation and it was wrong for Jay to ask for more; he should be more empathetic; he could do far more to help around the house and with the kids.  It was an unreasonable request from an increasingly unreasonable man.  He should count his blessings. Didn’t he know how lucky he was to have a wife like her?

But what more could he do?  He worked full time, his wife only did three mornings and one afternoon a week at the town library.  His job was full on; hers could hardly be described as tiring.  He did half the shopping, about a third of the cooking, all the house maintenance; he took the kids to football and netball; he helped them with their homework virtually every night.  What the fuck more could he do?  Yes, he was lucky to have a loving, thoughtful wife.  But he needed a bit more – not so much in the kitchen, but in the bedroom.

So when his wife had gone away with the kids one Saturday morning to meet up with an old school friend, Jay found himself alone.  And what was more, his luck was in as Dean was away on a work trip too.  (He only knew this because of a casual remark that Carla had made earlier in the week when he bumped into her at the front of the house when jay returned from a perfectly-timed jog.)

Jay knew he had this one opportunity and he intended to seize it with both hands.  It was sunny outside, so he decided to cut the lawn in the hope that Carla might spot him.  He decided to take his shirt off, too.  This was his time to make the male equivalent of that red stiletto statement.  He cut his back lawn leaving behind neat, straight stripes.  But there was no sign of his neighbour.  So, he went over it again at a ninety-degree angle.  God, his lawn looked good.  But no fucking Carla.  Jay could feel the opportunity slipping away from him.  So, as a last resort, he moved to his very small front grass.  And as he started his luck was in as Carla’s car appeared at the end of the road and she drew up in her drive.

“Like the lawn,” she said.

“Just finished,” Jay replied.  “I can do yours too if you like…and if you could possibly throw in a coffee…”  That was it, he played his only card.

“Done.  I think I have earned a coffee too.” said Carla with a smile.  “Saturdays and the office really don’t mix.”  She walked inside in a wonderfully tight black dress and crisp work blouse.

Jay only cut her front lawn.  The offer of coffee was too much and this was how he found himself, standing against Carla’s kitchen counter with a capaccino in his hand.  He sensed she was flirting with him and he got the impression that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.  But he was also concerned that he might have simply misread her signals.

She walked past him a couple of times, deliberately brushing past, as she fiddled with the coffee machine.  It was rather like a cat rubbing up against your legs when you return home at the end of the day.

Neither spoke much.  Jay was convinced that both were eyeing the other up.  Both wishing the other to make a move.  Both equally reluctant to take the next step.

It was Carla who took the initiative.  She turned around, and rubbed her hands on her hips, and faced Jay.  She smiled and simply said, “Well”.

He really had to make his move now, but what would be the most appropriate way forward?  He sensed that she was giving him the green light, but had to be totally sure first.

“Thanks for the coffee…”

“Thanks for the lawn…” came her reply, almost too quickly

“So you were working this morning?

“Afraid so.  Hate going in on a Saturday.  Saturdays should be packed full of fun things.”

“Well, you certainly looked the part…” Jay replied, taking his cue from her cheeky use of ‘fun’, hoping that she would appreciate the compliment.

“So do you!” she replied.  “You’re certainly well toned!  You can come round here anytime if you leave your shirt behind.”

“Why thank you,” Jay said, feeling his face redden.  This was it, now he was going to take the conversation even further.  He felt that the door was truly open.  So he pushed onwards: “I really hope you don’t mind my saying this, Carla, but you’ve got a great butt.”

There was a pause before Carla declared: “It’s all yours.”  And with that, she moved to the cabinets, rested her hands on the doors and pushed her tight, small, shapely butt out towards her neighbour.  Jay responded and pushed up against her, swivelled her around and kissed her deeply.  She responded by pushing her tongue into his mouth.  They kissed for a few seconds before Jay spun Carla around and pushed his groin into her arse.  He started to unbutton her skirt, and Carla – eager to rid herself of her clothes – helped him.  The black number slipped to the floor and Jay’s hands were in her knickers straight away.  He stroked her lips and felt a glorious wetness seep into them as Carla moaned and her body bent with the pleasure.

But then she took control and turned Jay round, so his back was against the kitchen cabinet.  She helped him unbutton his trousers and push them down.  She followed them and was on her knees, wanking Jay’s cock.  This was it, he thought.  This was when that three-year drought would come to an end.  And this was when Carla lifted up his shaft, licked his smooth balls (god he was glad he had shaved himself down there that morning), ran her tongue up to his glans then took his cock into her mouth.  She tucked it into her cheek as she flicked her tongue up and down his frenulum.  Then, she continued only without her hands, her head bobbing up and down his shaft.  Jay could feel an explosion building within him.

But Carla sensed this and changed to running her tongue from his balls up his shaft.  Jay let out a stifled: ‘Nice”.

And then she kept pulling away, leaving a string of his pre-cum and her saliva linking her lips and his glans.  Could anything be as hot as this, Jay thought?

Jay lifted up Carla’s face and kissed her again, tasting himself on her tongue.  But he realised it was now his turn to give rather than receive.  He pulled off Carla’s knickers, clocked the full body tan, rubbed her clit and then lowered her to the floor and entered her pussy.  Carla surprised him by lifting her legs over his arms, urging him to go deeper.  And she surprised him again as she started to rub her clit as he pumped her.  Fuck, she knew how to give and she knew how to receive.  Above all, she knew how to enjoy herself.

The couple seemed to be moving through different positions smoothly and intuitively.  The drought of sexual variation that Jay had experienced in marriage had ended with a torrential flood.  He went down on Carla but left his fingers by her mouth, which she gratefully sucked.  Then, seconds later, it was Carla’s turn to pleasure Jay orally, before sitting on top of him as he propped himself up against the cupboard door.

But the positions didn’t end there.  Carla turned around, her back towards her new lover, as he muttered ‘Just sit on my…’ but he did not need to finish the sentence as she was sitting astride him.  He had never experienced the reverse cowgirl position before and was trying to tune into the new sensation when he realised that he had yet to take of Carla’s bra.  He quickly rectified this situation and fondled her breasts, before re-asserting control and taking Carla from behind.

Jay could feel the urge of an orgasm building and made a final positional move.  Holding one of her legs off the ground, he now enjoyed her standing up and then, a final thought flashed into his mind.  It was her butt that had triggered this whole encounter and it was her butt that should finish it.  Jay flipped an all-too-eager Carla round and took her from behind one last time.  She was so gloriously wet, and the feeling of those firm, rounded butt checks against his groin was just too much, and with a stifled ‘fuck’ Jay began to feel his cum push over the brink and speed, like an unstoppable express train, up his rod-like cock.  It was not just an orgasm, it was an explosion.  Jay virtually burst as spunk shot out not just into Carla’s pussy, but all over her buttocks.  But his ejaculation didn’t subside, he just kept coming and coming, and it dripped on to the floor.

Guilt should at this post-coital moment have been flooding through Jay’s veins.  But it didn’t.  He simply felt the relief of being able to express – and share – his sexuality for the first time in years.  He should have declared the liaison a terrible error and that he really loved his wife.  But far from it.  He had found a wonderfully willing partner in Carla, and he just hoped that he had been able to give her as much pleasure as she had given him.

He stood there, holding his neighbour, still basking in the afterglow of their deeply passionate encounter.  He should have left just then.  He should have returned home with a limp prick and taken his lawnmower with him.  He should have returned to being a rather frustrated, but loyal husband. Little did he know a key was going to be inserted in the front door in just a matter of seconds.  Dean’s work conference had ended a fair few hours too early, and he was keen to come home and make love to his beautiful wife.