Last summer my wife, Greta, and I had an unexpected house guest. Greta’s coworker and friend Vivian had a falling out with her boyfriend and had to move out of his house. With no place to go, she begged Greta to let her stay with us for a few weeks while she decided what to do. Being the generous person she is, Greta said she’d ask me if it was all right.
Initially I wasn’t too happy about the idea of another person staying at our house, until Greta told me that it was Vivian. Then my resistance weakened considerably. Vivian is a brunet, about five feet eight, with long legs and flashing dark eyes. I decided it wouldn’t be so bad having another attractive woman around the house for a while, especially in the summer, when sunbathing was a definite possibility. So Vivian came to stay in our guest room.
For the first couple of nights Vivian, Greta, and I all retired to our rooms at the same time. But this was not typical for me, as I usually liked to sit on the couch watching TV or reading for at least an hour or two after Greta went to sleep. So on the third night, instead of getting into bed with Greta, I kissed her good night and went back out into the living room in my pajamas and robe. I sat down to watch some TV, and I was flipping around the channels when Vivian opened the guest room door and came out, evidently meaning to go to the bathroom.
She let out a little sound of surprise when she realized I was in the living room, and retreated back behind the door. Then she poked her head around it and asked if I was going to be there for a while. I replied that I probably was, as I intended to watch a little television, and asked if that would bother her.
Vivian hesitated. “Well, no,” she said then. “In fact, I might watch with you, if it’s okay. I like to watch David Letterman.”
I said that was no problem, and I switched to the proper channel. But Vivian stayed where she was.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Aren’t you coming out?”
“Well, I’m dressed for bed,” she said, kind of sheepishly. “And I don’t want to embarrass you.”
I played it cool. “Don’t worry, I am, too. Just come on out and we’ll both take it easy and relax by watching Dave.”
She came out then, and at that moment I realized that it might not be so easy to relax. Vivian was wearing a T-shirt that hung down to mid-thigh. Actually, it wasn’t so much mid-thigh as upper thigh, only a few inches below her crotch. The shirt clung to her upper half tightly enough to reveal the splendid curves of her very tempting breasts. It was obvious that there was nothing under it, and I could easily make out the provocative shape of her nipples.
She looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite interpret as she took a spot at the other end of the couch. “Is it going to bother you to see me only in a T-shirt?” she asked pointedly.
I made my best attempt to keep it together. “No, no!” I assured her. “It’s fine. After all, I’m a married man. I’ve seen it all before.” Well, what else was I going to say? “Go back to your room and cover that body up?” Not a chance!
Nothing much else happened that first night. We watched Letterman until it was over, then said good night and went to bed.
The next night I tucked Greta into bed as usual, and came out to watch TV again. This time Vivian came out without hesitation, and even leaned over playfully to grab the remote from me and switch over to Letterman. As she did so her T-shirt sort of gaped open, giving me a quick peek between her healthy mounds.
As we watched, I noticed that her T-shirt had crept even higher than usual over her smooth shapely thighs. As she relaxed on the sofa, her white panties came into view. I must have looked at those beautiful legs a little bit too long, because after a few minutes she had pulled the T-shirt down.
But it soon began to creep up again as Vivian began to show the telltale signs of sleep. Her chest moved up and down rhythmically as her breathing deepened. Her nipples poked out stiffly against the tight shirt, and I thought she must have been having an erotic dream.
Pretty soon I forgot all about Letterman and concentrated on watching Vivian. It was so sexy to hear her moan softly and slightly in her sleep and to see her rub her thigh absently. But mostly I watched her breasts shifting up and down, those nipples announcing her arousal loud and clear. I didn’t know if I’d be able to hold it together this time.
When Letterman ended I reached over for the remote to turn the TV off. At that moment Vivian awoke. Her lips were slightly swollen and her eyes moist, as if she’d actually been having sex. She stared at me for a moment, then grabbed my face and pulled me to her. We kissed hard for a few seconds, though it seemed like minutes. I was about to reach for her breasts when I came to my senses with a start, remembering that my wife was only twenty feet away.
Summoning all my willpower, I pulled away from her. “No,” I gasped. “We can’t do this!”
“Yes, yes, you’re right,” Vivian agreed. “We can’t. I only kissed you because of my dream.”
“Only because of a dream?” I asked, a little disappointed.
“Well, you were in it,” she said with a devilish grin. And with that she quickly got up and scuttled into the guest room.
The next night, after tucking Greta in as usual, I went out to the living room to find Vivian on the couch, with the TV already on. I sat in my usual place at the other end, and I saw that her eyes were already drooping. I sat as still as possible, telling myself that I was just being polite by not disturbing her. But the truth was I was hoping she’d dream about me again.
As she drifted off again, Vivian’s legs fell open, showing me her tan inner thighs. One hand rested just below her breasts, lifting them ever so slightly. The effect was like candy for my libido, and I was rock-hard. Her lips parted as she slept, and she let out a soft moan. I could hardly contain myself, and I moved closer, very quietly, to get a better look. I moved to within about a foot of her, and I could see her nipples hardening again. A spot of wetness appeared on those sexy panties.
I couldn’t stop myself. I had to touch her. Very lightly, I ran the back of my hand across her bare arm, and then grazed her breast. I felt her hard nipple under my touch, and it drove me crazy. I turned my hand over and just brushed my fingers across it. Her sudden intake of breath stopped me. I waited to see if she would awaken, but she didn’t.
My hands took on a life of their own then. One slid down her right side, across her hip and down her thigh, while the other caressed her left breast. As I rubbed her thigh she moaned again, this time more loudly. I was a little concerned that Greta would hear her, until I remembered that she’s always been a heavy sleeper. I slipped my hand into the space between Vivian’s long, silky thighs, amazed that she still had not awakened. I looked at her face as my fingers reached the line of her panties. She still seemed to be blissfully asleep, her luscious lips parted slightly, her eyes still closed.
Surely she couldn’t really be sleeping through all this! I rubbed her pussy then through her frilly underwear, not lightly this time, but with a strong, lingering stroke. Her eyes fluttered open. With my face inches away and my hand on her crotch, she came at me with a vengeance, throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me hard. As her tongue flicked between my lips, she arched her hips, pushing her wet box against my groping hand.
Vivian pulled me on top of her then, groping around with her own hands, trying to free my eight-inch cock. I helped her out, getting my Jockey shorts down to about mid-thigh, enough to set the snake free. Vivian reached down and pulled her panty crotch to one side, looking me in the eye.
“Do it!” she hissed.
So I did. I plunged my pulsing cockhead all the way into her with one thrust. The force of it pushed her body upward against the back of the couch, so that her head fell back. As I reached the bottom of her deep tunnel, her head still arched backward, revealed her long, tan throat. She let out a deep, guttural groan, sounding like an animal in heat, deep and needy. It made me even hornier.
“Oh God, yes!” she groaned.
As I pulled out, ready to plunge in again, Vivian’s head came forward and she looked at me with eyes wet and slightly closed, her puffy lips parted. Then she leaned back again and spread her thighs still farther apart, readying for my next advance. The sight of her giving herself fully to me that way drove me to even greater heights of passion. I drove in, grunting roughly as I filled her pussy with my dick.
The next few minutes were a blur of heat, sweat, and passion. I was so hot, all I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears as I pumped in and out of her wanton, squirming body. Again and again I plunged at her, until the walls of her cunt squeezed around me and her fingers dug into my back as an orgasm racked her body. I felt myself at the brink and I plunged in as deep as I could, shouting out as I released my load. I held myself deep within her, our hips grinding together with a rolling, twisting motion as we both continued to moan in climax.
When we finally drew apart, Vivian kissed me without a word and quickly disappeared into her room. Thank God Greta sleeps heavily, I thought; She wouldn’t know what we’d been up to. And I swore I wouldn’t be so foolish as to try that again.
As I entered the bedroom I saw Greta sitting up in bed, smiling at me. She was wide awake.
“Did you have a good time, darling?” she asked me. “It sure sounded that way. Vivian promised me you would. But tomorrow night I think we should all watch Letterman together, okay?”
—N.D., St. Louis, Missouri