Chapter 2

The lucky husband showed up right as I carried the last box to his gorgeous house.  Maria ran to give him a long kiss.  He took one look at me, then cupped her right ass cheek like a bear marking a tree.

"Hey, neighbor!" I called, so he wouldn't wonder why I held a box of his stuff.

"A guy at the gas station couldn’t stop coughing, so I bought him some Mucinex to clear up his chest congestion. 

Within minutes he felt better."

"You are so wonderful," Maria told him, giving him another kiss, and for a weird moment I imagined her saying that to me while giving me a fucking kiss.

"This neighborhood is heavily Republican, so providing free medical is illegal," I sort-of joked.  "Don't be surprised if someone from the country club gives you a citation."

"Are you the one flooding the roses?" he asked.

"No, I'm the one watering the curb."  I ran to my house to turn off the hose.  When I looked back, they were totally making out.  "Hey, you kids, get a room."  I didn't see any more cards to play, so I went inside and Googled "Colombian models" until I found one that looked close enough to her and beat off until my hand cramped.

The next morning, once my family and her husband left, I kicked my newspaper into her driveway, then flooded the roses again until she finally came out.  

"Not even Dick Cheney waterboards that much," she said, picking up the newspaper.

"I feel terrible.  If you've got a minute, I'll meet you by our backyard wall."

In my backyard I stepped on three concrete blocks to pop my head over her wall.  She sat on the diving board, reading my newspaper.  "Come here, Maria.  I've something to show you."  She navigated through bushes in her backyard, then saw the top few layers of our wall removed. "This house sat vacant for a year, so my kids loosened a few blocks last summer to swim in your pool.  Getting over is pretty easy."

"I guess I won't be skinny dipping after all."

I detected something in her voice that gave me hope. "Oh come on.  I'll pay you to skinny dip."  I had no idea how much I had in my pocket, but I threw a wad of bills towards her and hoped for the best.  Then I realized that I couldn’t get them back without invading her property.

She scanned the treasure.  "$87, really?  You'll pay me $87 to swim naked in my pool?"

"I'd pay you $87 just to see you naked for a minute."

She looked me in the eye.  Although she didn't move a muscle, I think I saw her mentally shrug.  "I hope you don't make me regret this," she said, taking off her clothes.

I couldn't believe it.  On several levels.  That she would undress.  That she would undress for me.  That she would undress for me for $87.  And that her body was freakin' amazing.  Her flawless face came with gravitydefying tits and a flat stomach that only comes from hours of ab exercises.  She even turned around and I saw the best booty in my life.  By the expression of her face and the glint in her eyes, she was enjoying me drooling over her.

"I stay in shape for my husband."

"I can see."  Indeed.  She must love him very much.

After at least two minutes of me gawking, she scooped up her money but, tellingly, didn’t get dressed. 

Somewhere in the back of my mind a bullhorn blared.

"Best $87 that I ever spent."  She laughed, but I was totally serious.  "Please don’t take this wrong, but I'd pay you 

$1000 cash for a blowjob."

"You met my husband.  He's a great guy whose skill saves lives."

"He's also smarter, handsomer, and a better man than I am.  No question.  Ask the neighbors and I doubt anyone will disagree.  However, I was surprised that he looks sixty years old."

"He's not sixty!" she shot back.  "Not yet.  But he has some health problems that have aged him."

"I'm not throwing stones, here.  Catherine Zeta-Jones 

was in her mid-twenties and at the peak of her career when she married Michael Douglas, who was twenty-six years older.  I'm just curious how he won the lottery."

It took her longer to decide to tell me than it took her to decide to undress for 87 fucking bucks.  "The guy who took my virginity in Colombia also got me pregnant by lying about putting on a condom.  Once he learned of the baby, he spread rumors that I was a whore and that the baby was not his.  I did not want to stay poor forever like my parents, and single motherhood practically guarantees that, so I went to a place that does abortions.  Except abortion is not legal, so the quack fucked it up.  Next thing I know a taxi dumped me at the emergency room.  All I remember is the blood and screaming.  The nurses said I should have died, but Sheldon worked eighteen hours straight to save my life.  He didn't even get paid for it -- he was there to teach the surgeons.  

"When I recovered, I begged him to let me repay him.  My parents just adored him, so I wormed my way into his hotel room on the pretense of shopping, cleaning, and cooking for him.  I took care of his every need.  He was the total opposite of the liar who basically raped me, so I sucked and fucked Sheldon dry.  Every few weeks he went to a different city, so I made myself indispensable.  By the time he had to move on to Ecuador, he couldn't live without me. But I was underage, and traveling as lovers could get him arrested, so I convinced him to marry me.  He had already gone through a brutal divorce, but I was the total opposite of the bitch who bled him dry. 

“I couldn't have kids, which is my punishment for letting that bastard take advantage of me, and his children were already grown, so we met each other's needs.  Most guys marry specifically to have kids, while my looks would attract players like the idiot who got me pregnant.  An older guy who already had kids was perfect for me.  Plus, he knew how to treat a lady, unlike macho Latino men, and made a good living.  He preferred to teach, even though he could make several times more in private practice, but I didn't need riches.  I just needed a good man.  And anyone who threatens my marriage deserves everything terrible that happens to him."

"Don't look at me!  I just want to get laid.  I promise I will not do anything to endanger your marriage.  Except having tons of sex with you.  And I'm serious about the $100,000.  My wife and I already decided to divorce once the kids graduate, so I won't even be cheating."

"This makes me feel like a prostitute."

"No!" I objected.  "Prostitutes only have a transactional relationship.  You and me?  We're neighbors with benefits.  Paying for each and every sex act would be prostitution, but having a long term relationship where the guy provides economic assistance to the woman is how the world works.  In every marriage, the wife wants financial stability, and often trades sex for favors.  But most wives aren't prostitutes!  Not legally.  Husbands pay their wives for sex.  Just not every time.  Or even with cash.  Sometimes just paying her a compliment gets him laid.”

"Oh I see," Maria said.  "I would be a mistress, not a prostitute."

"Who is morally superior: the person paying for sex, or the person receiving?”  I paused before trying something different.  “You’re right.  If you’re just gonna fuck me for money, then you’re prostituting yourself.  However, if you are fucking me because you want to fuck me, then you’re not 

a prostitute, even if you benefit financially.”

“Well, you are pretty cute.”

I jumped on that like a trampoline.  “You see?  You not a prostitute!  You’re just an unfaithful wife, which is so much better.”

Maria shook her head to keep from smiling.  "I have a few concerns.  First, no recordings of any kind.  Only cash or its equivalent.  You can't spend the day here, sleep over, or waste my time.  If something comes up, where I'm not available, you just have to deal with it.  If you get a crush on me or endanger my marriage, I'll hurt you as much as I can. I'd have to see proof that you're clean and I'd feel really stupid if I cheated on my husband, only for you to stop paying me, so I'd need a month pre-paid at all times.  Finally,

I need to know if you have anything unusual in mind."

My mouth was so dry I could not swallow.  I could not believe she had thought about my offer.  Later she’d confess that she thought of nothing else all night.  "Blowjobs in the morning would be nice.  Not hand jobs with a little tongue, but completing the task."

"You want to come in my mouth every morning," she stated unsurprised and, if anything, rather chipper.  "What else?"

“You’ll really suck me off every morning for a year?”

“I’ve only sucked off my husband, so it would depend on how you taste.”

Okay, now I gulped.  My wife never took it in the mouth.  She only sucked to get me hard so she could get off. 

Maria’s nude body made it hard to think.

“Now you’re just stalling to get your $87 worth,” she joked, suddenly dancing to keep me focused.

"Can I kiss you?" I asked like a virgin.

"Mi amor, for $100,000, you can kiss me wherever you want."

I hugged the wall before my knees buckled.  She called me, mi amor!  "I meant right now.  Would you kiss me?"

I have never felt so flattered than that moment, the way her face lit up.  She hopped over like a kid on 

Halloween.  She fucking wants to kiss me, I realized.  Maria walked through the bushes, gazed into my eyes, and caressed my check.  Maria suddenly grabbed the back of my hair and pulled me forward.  Shit, I nearly peed myself.  She kissed me hard and, to my surprise, passionately.  I felt her tongue against my teeth and I let her in.  We exchanged saliva, then I felt her hand lead mine to her breasts.  I felt her up and pitched a tent in my pants.  I had heard of five minute kisses; I just never had one.  Hell, my wife stopped kissing me years ago.  In contrast, Maria seemed in no hurry to stop.  An eternity passed and yet she still seemed like she was just warming up.  When we finally paused, I worried about shooting myself.

"Please blow me for $1000.  I have cash in the house and I swear it won't take a minute."  And I meant it.

"Let me see it."

An instant later my blue jeans and boxers fell to expose my totally hard cock.

“How big is it?” she asked, very interested.

“Seven and a half inches.”  I only slightly exaggerated.

“Really?” she replied, as if I said a foot long.  Indeed, you’d think I opened a pizza box, the way she practically drooled.  Not since I beat the crap out of a surprised bully in high school have I felt more manly.  “Okay.”

She backed up and I hopped the wall like a burglar. She knelt, right there in the bushes, dirtying her knees, and logged my petrified wood.   Her mouth engulfed me with more enthusiasm than a teenager.  With each bob of her head, she went deeper and faster, first getting her rhythm, then stepping it up.

She’s hornier than I am, I realized.  If she just wanted to get it over with, she would have jacked me hard while mouthing the head.  Instead, her hands never touched my cock.  One hand cupped my balls and the other stuck a finger up my ass with the other.  I even spread my legs to give her greater access, and she rewarded me by finger-fucking my anus hard and fast.  She took the whole damn penis, too -- something my lying wife claims isn’t possible.  

Her moans grew louder, more passionate, as she let herself go.  She was loving it!  I felt like high-five-ing myself.  I wish I could finger her pussy because this lady clearly needed to cum bad.  She had a fever and couldn’t wait to swallow her medicine.

Maria looked so beautiful, naked, on her dirty knees, devouring my throbbing cock, as if it were the world’s last porterhouse.  I loved how her hair danced on her back.  She looked closer to coming than I did.

I yelped in surprise when I hit the point of no return. Maria must have a turbo button on her because her engine suddenly revved up.  Still using only her mouth, she gobbled me with the enthusiasm of a fag.  I grabbed her wonderful hair with both hands and exploded in her mouth so hard my knees shook.  My first wad hit her like a shotgun blast, the way her head snapped back like whiplash.  Well, that only seemed to provoke her more.  I saw her swallow, then continue to pump my dick dry, moaning like a bitch in heat. I felt my second load coat her tongue and a third bounce off the roof of her mouth.  Still, she fed the beast, not hesitating for a moment, eager for every drop.  This wasn’t a prostitute -- this was a miracle worker!  I never knew a total hottie was capable of such things.  It was like she crossed the Sahara and now needed to drink until she exploded.

Her hand flew from between my legs to between hers.  A moment later her whole body shuddered.  Her lips still locked on my cock, her eyes looked up at me, scared at the intensity.  Her eyes glazed over like she took a premium hit of some new super drug.  

The bowels of my soul coughed up my sixth and last squirt of cum.   She pulled out to rest her lips on the head of my cock.  It looked like she was putting lipstick on, the way she moved her lips over the tip of my penis.  Her tongue flicked out and cleaned the sperm around her mouth like a puppy fed too much peanut butter.  I watched her eyes unglazed and her face settle into an expression of deep satisfaction.  Her happy smile barely fit on her face.

“You taste so good!” she told my penis, looking him in the eye.  “And I get to suck you every day for the next year?”

She said it like she won the lottery, but I knew I was the true winner.  I found a swallower in a world of spitters. And not just some diseased crack whore.  Every man wants a virgin nympho supermodel.  I just scored two out of three. 

She looked up at me and moaned.  No lie, my cock twitched against her tongue.