Author: OneIdleHand
Title: Who Was It?
Summary: Hayley's attraction to a new neighbor leads to an awkward moment. If Steven orchestrated a ruse, it was a good one. And the question remained. Who was it that made love to her in the kitchen?
Keywords: MF



Who Was It? 

Hayley had been pulling weeds from her flower garden when the 
moving truck pulled in to the house next door.  The house had 
been sold a month earlier and had been vacant for the past two 
weeks.  Their previous neighbors had been nice enough, but no 
common interests, other than kids of similar ages, had kept the 
relationship pleasant but superficial.  

Hayley had hoped that the new neighbors would also have kids, and 
that the wife would stay at home during the day so that they 
could do things together.

She shortly realized, however, that the size of the U-Haul 
indicated that the new neighbors were probably moving in from an 
apartment, and that the amount of furniture probably meant that 
there were not any kids.  As some friends, apparently, of the 
owners helped moved the furniture and boxes into the house, she 
walked up to the guy that she presumed was the husband.  He was 
about 6'2", about 30 years old, with brown hair, blue eyes, and 
an athletic build.  As evidenced by the weights, bicycles, golf 
clubs, and other sporting equipment temporarily placed in the 
driveway, she knew that he was active physically.

She introduced herself, and he said that his name was Craig.  In 
the course of discussion, she found out that he was a 
pharmaceutical salesman and often would be out-of-town.  She 
asked if his wife worked, and he indicated that she was between 
jobs, as she had to quit to care for her mom that lived in Texas.  
As airfare costs between North Carolina and Texas were 
substantial, they had not been meeting often, and she probably 
wouldn't be back permanently for several more months until her 
mom recovered from her illness.

A week later, Craig rang the doorbell and introduced his wife, 
Kim.  She was in town for the weekend to help get the house 
sorted and basically make a list of "honey, do" items for Craig 
to complete while she was away.  They also met Hayley's husband, 
Steven, as well as their kids, and it seemed like they would be 
enjoyable neighbors once Kim was able to return.  Kim was about 
5'5", with black hair, blue eyes, slender, and with the kind of 
smile that could light up the room.  Hayley knew that she was the 
type that her husband found very attractive.

Over the next several weeks, Steven and Craig got together often, 
with Steven helping him around the house as he moved furniture, 
painted, hung shelves, and other projects.  As Steven had helped 
unpack, he had found several photos of Kim in a beauty pageant, 
and found out that she had been first runner-up as Miss Texas.  
Craig and Kim had only married several months previous, and most 
of Kim's furniture was still at her apartment in Texas, where 
they had met.  Craig had been transferred to Charlotte, causing 
the move.  But, because Kim's mom was ill, they had never been 
able to move their belongings together as she had been needed at 
home, basically since they had returned from their honeymoon.

Steven had said to Craig that it must be tough to be married and 
yet be living apart.  Craig was comfortable enough with Steven to 
hint that they had used letters and phone calls, and lately home 
videos, to keep each other excited about their next reunion.  
When Steven told Hayley this, she wondered how much Steven had 
shared about their own sex lives.

One late afternoon while Steven was out of town, Hayley saw Craig 
mowing his yard.  It was hot outside, and he was wearing long gym 
shorts and tennis shoes.  His skin was tanned, and she was 
mesmerized watching the rippling muscles in his arms, shoulders, 
and torso as he pushed his mower around the yard.  He was 
sweating, and his body looked wonderfully slick as he glistened 
in the sunlight.  The sweat had dampened his gray shorts along 
his waist, seeming to form a dark triangle pointing to the 
conspicuous bulge between his legs.   She suddenly returned to 
her senses when Craig turned a corner, and she looked up to find 
him returning her gaze.  She had not realized that she was 
staring, and she quickly waved, looked away and began planting a 
flat of pansies by her doorstep.

A short time later, she went to her bathroom to shower, and 
decided to take a bath instead.  Her thoughts quickly left the 
"Reader's Digest" article she was reading to the physique she had 
been watching earlier.  Noiselessly, she brought herself to 
climax, her fingers between her legs, amazed that she had been in 
the tub long enough for the water to turn cool.  She dressed, 
cooked supper and fed the kids, helped them with their homework, 
and tucked them in. 

Her husband called from Nashville, where he was working, and she 
realized she missed more than his presence.  Her general mood was 
quickly perceived, and they made an "appointment" for each other 
in two more nights, when he would return.

At bedtime, she changed into a light nightgown and climbed into 
bed.  Still warmed by her conversation with her husband, she 
again began to play with herself when she was interrupted by her 
dog, a Labrador, jumping on the bed.  Clearly, he needed to go 
outside, and she had forgotten to take him. 

Their yard was not fenced, but her dog, Jessie, would do his 
business if she stood on the patio.  He wandered off slightly 
while she stood watching, noticing fireflies getting higher in 
the trees.  Jessie returned after a couple of minutes, and as she 
held the door open, she saw a light from Craig's screened back 
porch, apparently his laptop, although she could not see any 
indication of him, because his lights were off.   As she turned 
to go in the door, she realized that the yard spotlight from her 
other neighbor's house  was on.  If he had been on the back 
porch, he probably could have seen right through her nightgown.  
As she closed the door and ran up the steps, wishing for a home 
with privacy, she realized that she was incredibly turned on, and 
picked up where she left off before the dog had so rudely 
interrupted her.

She didn't see Craig the next day, and she wasn't sure if she 
would be embarrassed or not if and when she did.  But, she was 
very happy when her husband returned the following afternoon.  
The sex that evening was much hotter than usual, with her husband 
struggling to keep up with her needs.  Afterwards, he asked her 
if there was a reason for her sensual state.   

Running her fingers up and down his softened shaft, hoping for a 
second round, she realized, she began to describe what was going 
on in her head, as they had shared fantasies before.

"Well, I was out working in the Garden Wednesday afternoon, and I 
sat on the front porch steps just to sit a minute and drink some 
water, because it was hot.  I heard Craig start up his lawnmower, 
so I looked his way.  He's got a nice body, you know, and he 
wasn't wearing a shirt, so I looked.  He has that small waist and 
he was wearing tight gym shorts.  It's not that he was turned on, 
or anything, but I could tell there was a good-sized lump in his 
shorts.  I'm afraid he caught me looking, but I don't know for 
how long."

Steven replied, "So, you were turned on by our new neighbor, and 
then, what?"

"Nothing.  I finished with the flowers and went inside and 
bathed."  She decided not to tell him about the possible 
nightgown view.

"Come on," Steven said, "I know you.  What, you climbed into bed 
and masturbated thinking about him?"

"No, actually, I was still in the tub."

"So, what were you fantasizing?"

"Oh, nothing specific about Craig.  I don't even know him, 
really.  I just imagined what it might be like with another guy 
who happened to look like him.  It wasn't like `cheating' was 
included.  I kind of had the idea that you knew, or that you were 
there."  She could feel Steven's cock hardening in her hand.

Steven moved behind her back, lying on their sides, and inserted 
himself between her legs.  He now could whisper in her ear.

"So, what was it like?  Was it a fast, hard thing?  Or was it a 
slow screwing?"  

The feel of Steven's cock in her cunt and the lingering fantasy 
in her mind combined to form words that were said without 
thinking.  "Oh, it was slow, like he knew he had one opportunity, 
and he wanted it to last.  I wish there were a way of having sex 
with someone you knew without knowing you were.  If that makes 
any sense."

Steven removed his hand from her breast, and placed it over her 
eyes, saying "SSShhhhhussshhh" as he increased the tempo of his 
thrusts.  Hayley quickly picked up on the idea that he was 
pretending to blindfold her, and her sex went into high gear with 
the thought of a nameless (well wait, he had a name, Craig!) 
stranger screwing her cunt, with the comfort in her passion that 
her husband knew about it.

By the time they both came, both were exhausted, but knew that 
the fantasy had really set Hayley's sex drive skyrocketing.  She 
indicated her desire to repeat the fantasy, and soon.

The next day, Steven had again helped Craig, this time moving an 
interior wall, which became a major project.  Hayley had worked 
outside, disappointed that there was no sight of "her men."  That 
night, Steven was watching a baseball game on TV when he heard 
the bath water drain from the tub upstairs.  He went upstairs, 
found Hayley dried but naked, and led her down from their bedroom 
into their den.  Hayley smelled wonderful with a floral 
fragrance, and as the heavy petting began, her sexual juices on 
his fingers added to the aroma.

"Remember what you asked for last night?"

She nodded.  He raised her off the couch, and removed a blindfold 
from beneath the pillow.  Placing it on her face, he led her to 
the kitchen, to the end of the kitchen counter.  He placed a soft 
blanket on the countertop, and bent her over the counter.  He 
pulled her arms behind her back, and fastened them together with 
handcuffs, not too tightly, but tight enough to ensure that she 
was secure.  The blindfold they had played with before; she 
hadn't seen the handcuffs.

"Now, just wait there.  I've got to go to the garage to get 
something."  She heard him open the door to their basement, where 
their garage was, and heard him descend the steps.  

About a minute later, she heard the front door of the house open.  
She hoped it was her husband, realizing that, bent over as she 
was, her naked cunt was pointing towards the front door.

The sound of his shoes in the hallway sounded heavy in an 
otherwise quiet house.  She heard him unzip his jeans.  A hand 
reached under her and felt her warm wet cunt.  His rock hard cock 
thrust into her, as he held her pelvis with both hands, rocking 
her backwards to meet each stroke.  He continued thrusting 
noiselessly,  she supposed to keep this "anonymous" fuck 
anonymous.  By their quickening speed, she could tell that he was 
about to cum.  Being mindful of the kids asleep upstairs, she was 
straining not to scream with the feel of his massive cockhead 
plunging in and out of her.  Knowing that her husband was doing 
her fantasy right, she responded in her orgasm, with "Yes, give 
me that cock!  Craig, I love your cock so much!"

She felt him quickly withdraw, and then felt his hot fluids shoot 
across her butt and up her back.  Her heart was pounding in her 
ears, but she could tell that he was breathing heavily.  The 
excitement of her need wearing off, she was aware that the cock 
that had been within her felt good, of course, but somehow 
slightly different.  Thinking, and hoping, that the anonymous 
fantasy was the cause, she was now looking for some clues that it 
was her husband, or, more specifically, that it wasn't Craig.  
She felt his hands wipe the cum from her back, then he 
straightened her up and rubbed it on her breasts, slowly, as if 
making a painting.  That was something her husband would not have 
done.  He would have grabbed her breasts and pinched her nipples.  
The nervous excitement that it was possible that this was Craig 
(surely her husband would never set this up!), she began to 
respond to the fondling of her breasts.  As she began drawing 
deeper breaths with her mouth open, she very much wanted to be 
fucked again, but at the same time, to cover herself up from 
embarrassment.  She could tell that her mystery lover had moved 
to her side, where he could see her face, breasts, and cunt.  He 
grabbed her shoulders to lower her back down, so that she was 
again bent over the counter.  She heard him pull his jeans up, 
re-zip them, and felt him take one last plunge into her cunt, 
this time with a finger.  He wiped the juices on her butt, and 
then he retreated for the front door.  As he opened the door, she 
added, "You can fuck me anytime, Craig," hoping that it just had 
to be Steven, and knowing that her playing along would likely 
entice Steven into repeating this fantasy again.  But, with her 
hands still secured, she had no way of moving her blindfold to 
try to get a parting glance at him.

A minute or so later, she heard her husband come up the stairs 
from the basement, and shut the door behind him.  "Look at you; 
you're a mess!"

Just to light him up further, she said, "Yeah, Craig's much 
better at fucking me than you are."

There was a strange silence, then he moved forward to remove her 
handcuffs.  As she began to straighten he placed a hand on her 
back to keep her bent over.  She heard him lower his sweatpants, 
then he slipped his cock between her legs.  He had recovered 
quickly, and as he fucked her, she forgot about removing the 
blindfold, needing her hands to steady herself against the 
countertop.  It wasn't long before he emptied himself inside her, 
and as he pulled out, she could feel the wetness between her 
legs.

The next morning, as she was looking into the bathroom mirror 
before taking a shower, she noticed the dull reflection of dried 
cum on her breasts, and, turning, on her butt.  Really, the 
amount of cum on her, and in her, had been tremendous.  She 
couldn't stop her alarming thought that maybe it really was Craig 
that had first fucked her.  That would explain why Steven had 
been hard so quickly after coming from the garage.  And, come to 
think of it, "Craig" had worn some sort of shoes with heels, by 
the sound on the hardwood floor.  Steven had been wearing tennis 
shoes when he came in.  And Steven hadn't worn jeans, but she had 
heard a zipper.  This wasn't beyond her clever husband's ability 
to fake.  Really, it was a job well done.  It just had to be a 
job well done.  

After she showered, she dried off and found her husband, down in 
the den, who was reading.  She asked Steven, "It was you, both 
times, right?"  

His grin, combined with his slow, lustful look that passed over 
her robed body, did nothing to comfort her.  Neither did his 
reply.  "Why don't you ask Craig?"



Comments and suggestions desired, especially from those who have 
shared it with their spouses.  It would only take a few moments
to make an author very happy...

E-mail to:  OneIdleHand@hotmail.com

See my other stories at www.asstr.org/~IdleHand 
(case sensitive)

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