Neighborly Hospitality

Unannounced visitors were not very common, especially in the middle of the day, so when the knock came at the door for Lisa Ingles, she was caught a little off guard. Little did she know that she was about to be introduced to a world of experiences that would shift her reality and alter her life completely. Little did she know that she was about to become an entirely new woman.

She opened the door to find herself staring, face to face, with a beautiful black woman who looked more like she belonged on a runway in Paris or New York as opposed to a quiet, unassuming street in suburbia. Her face was made up in a way that was flawless, highlighting her chocolate brown complexion that looked as smooth as silk and her hypnotic eyes and full sensual lips. She was wearing a tight black leather vest that pushed her breasts up and put them on display like a set of pillowy mounds of soft flesh. Her expensive designer jeans hugged every curve and you can rest assured that she had curves. She was wearing rather expensive shoes as well; not that there was much of them, it was a pair of dangerously high heels made up of just a few strips of black leather that crossed her toes and wrapped around her ankles and formed a perfect canvas for her coral colored toenails that complimented her beautiful brown skin. Lisa, forgetting all her manners, simply stood and stared. Waiting patiently for the usual initial shock to wear off and extending her hand, she said, “Hi neighbor, my name is Syreeta and I’m going to be moving in next door and I wanted to stop by and introduce myself.”

Regaining her composure, Lisa shook of her initial surprise and invited her guest in. She felt rather underdressed in her workout clothes and she tried to hide her insecurity by being gracious. “Steven did mention that he might be moving but I really don’t have that much interaction with him; I wasn’t even aware that he’d moved. Welcome to the neighborhood, I’m Lisa. My husband Brad is at work now but it’s very nice to meet you. Please do sit down. Would you like some coffee?”

Syreeta’s demeanor was graceful and friendly. She politely declined the offer for coffee and asked for some bottled water instead. “Actually, Steven is just renting the place to us for a couple of months. My boyfriend got a job here with the San Jose Jazz Society and I told him that I’d give him a few months to see if I could adapt to life in the burbs. I’m hoping it’s remotely reminiscent of Wisteria Lane because I’d hate to think the most excitement that there is to be found out here is strolling in the Rose Garden.”

Lisa laughed along with her, rather nervously, knowing that there was little excitement on University Avenue compared to the Desperate Housewives melodrama. Syreeta was delightful, engaging in fact, and wove enticing tales of being a model in New York and how she and her boyfriend, Dixon, had met when he was Director of Marketing at the Lincoln Center. As if on cue, there was another knock at the door and it was Dixon, coming to inquire about the whereabouts of his other half.

“I’m sorry, but I really need to steal Syreeta back to help me finish painting.” Lisa stared again. Dixon was 6 feet tall and had the same cocoa brown complexion of his lover. His body showed evidence of many workouts and his t-shirt and sweat pants indicated that he had been working up a sweat getting things ready in the new house.

Syreeta rolled her eyes and apologized about taking up too much time; looking like she was looking for any excuse to get out of doing work. “Hey, want to come over for dinner on Saturday? Bring the hubby and let’s make it a foursome, okay?” With that, she leaned over and kissed Lisa on the cheek like they were long lost friends. It was a little more intimate than Lisa was expecting and it gave her a thrill somehow, not really sure why but aware that there was some sort of unspoken exchange of electricity in the room.

All week long, Lisa was filled with anticipation. She started dressing up a little more during the day, wearing more makeup and more revealing clothing, and she would demand that Brad lick her to orgasm at night. Closing her eyes, she would get lost in vague fantasies, fantasies of brown skin and heated passion and shadowy images of intense fervor that her body longed to feel. Brad noticed the change in her conduct and loved every second of it. Her libido was reawakened and she was more commanding in the bedroom. Her orgasms seemed more intense; she seemed more determined to use his mouth for her pleasure.

Lisa and Syreeta were spending more time together as the days passed. By Friday night, by the time Brad came home, Syreeta and Lisa were giggling and whispering like teenagers and Dixon had to come retrieve his girlfriend, yet again, because they were going to be late for a very important dinner reception. Syreeta winked at Lisa and said, “So we are soooo excited to see you tomorrow night for dinner. Can’t wait in fact.” She kissed Lisa goodbye and it seemed to linger a little longer than one would expect and Brad felt a pang of jealousy that gave him a raging hardon. Dixon just rolled his eyes, gave Brad a knowing wink, and ushered his lovely companion off for the evening. They were barely out the door before Lisa had Brad on his knees licking her to orgasm in the kitchen while the children played totally unaware in the back yard.

Saturday was the day of reckoning. The kids had been packed up for sleepover dates with their friends and Lisa was in rare form. It seemed like she couldn’t get enough oral sex and she was even getting more verbal than usual, more dominate in her commands. “Get on your knees and eat my pussy. I bet Dixon doesn’t have a worthless cock. I bet he can get it up to fuck Syreeta and he doesn’t have to eat her out all the time. I bet she gets that big hard black cock rammed in her pussy all the time.” Her dialogue seemed to drive them both over the edge and they were soon both cumming like crazy.

Neither of them had the nerve to discuss the dynamic that was evolving between them. They seemed to exist very happily with their unspoken new raison d’etre. As Lisa prepared for their dinner date Brad could barely contain himself. She put on a brand new outfit, one that she and Syreeta had picked out at the mall. The skirt was dangerously short and showed off her well toned legs. The top was low cut as well and displayed her 36 C’s in a way that most mothers of 2 couldn’t do at 37 years old. She put on a thong and, at the last minute, bent over in front of Brad and slid it off. He practically shot a load in his pants then and there. He couldn’t get over the transformation of his wife and how she’d become so sexual in such a short period of time.

They knocked on the door at exactly 8 PM and Syreeta greeted them and invited them in. They had decorated they house such that it didn’t even look like it belonged on such a quiet little enclave, it looked like something out of an interior design magazine. Brad handed Dixon a bottle of wine and they went off to the dining room to enjoy a sumptuous meal of curry roasted duck, French onion soup, focaccia bread and roasted garlic with asparagus with hollandaise sauce while listening to some rarely heard tracks from John Coltrane. The evening was flowing seamlessly and everyone but Brad seemed to have this secret that they were keeping. The more wined that flowed, the more the unspoken glances were exchanged, and private jokes passed. Brad laughed nervously as they seemed to be laughing at his expense.

After dinner, they foursome retired to the living room and shared some cognac. The alcohol had loosened Lisa’s inhibitions and she sat next to Dixon, ignoring Brad completely, pretending to be engrossed in a conversation about jazz when it was more than obvious she was simply using that as a pretense to press her body next to his. Syreeta seemed to be running interference for her new friend, t
rying to distract Brad with conversation about Rea
l Estate and things that would keep his focus off their respective partners. Syreeta pulled Brad to the backyard to look at property lines and when they returned to the living room, Dixon and Lisa were nowhere to be found. When Brad inquired where they went, Syreeta implied that it was nothing he should be worried about, that they were probably just getting better acquainted.

Better acquainted was an understatement. While Brad and Syreeta were in the living room making casual conversation about fixed mortgages, Lisa was in the bedroom, on her knees, with both hands wrapped around Dixon’s cock, stroking it and coaxing out precum to lick off. That had been the plan for the better part of the week; Lisa was going to get fucked like she needed it and Dixon was going to serve up the dick like only he knew how. He pulled her tits out of her top and squeezed her nipples. Lisa moaned and begged for him to do it harder, shocked at her own desires. She wrapped her lips around his cock and started sucking it like a slut. Dixon grabbed her brown hair and started fucking her mouth hard. Lisa was up for the challenge and taking it all. Her pussy was throbbing and dripping and she was ready for the main course without much foreplay.

Brad was getting more and more uncomfortable as time passed. He kept looking towards the master bedroom, wondering if he could hear signs of sex or if it was just his imagination. His cock was rock hard at the thought of his wife, merely feet away, getting filled with the cock of her black lover. He couldn’t hide his arousal and he was trying to discretely rub himself. Syreeta could sense his distraction and she toyed with him, whispering in his ear as she taunted him. “He’s fucking her right now, you know that, don’t you?” He’s got her bent over and he’s ramming his huge dick in her from behind, stretching her and filling her like you never could.

Brad couldn’t swallow. His eyes were glued in the direction of the bedroom and he was in a trance. He’d never been more turned on in his entire life.

“Oh god, it hurts. Please, don’t stop.” Brad choked for air as he was positive he heard his wife engaged in some serious fucking. Syreeta toyed with him as he strained to hear more. He was sure he could hear the sounds of the headboard hitting the wall and Dixon groaning and telling his wife how good her tight white pussy was. He was correct. Lisa was on her hands and knees, getting banged hard, her tits flapping as a hard black cock hit her in places that hadn’t been touched in years. She was cumming harder than she’d cum in years. “Yes, Dixon, cum inside meeeeeee. Please.”

Brad was practically crying. It was his dream come true, his fantasy made reality. Lisa emerged from the room, dressed, but disheveled. She looked drained but glowing. Her footsteps were shaky and she walked to Brad and kissed him squarely on the mouth. He could taste the evidence of a sex on her lips. Exhausted, she whispered, “Let’s go home. Dixon and I made a special dessert just for you.” Brad thanked Syreeta for the lovely meal and they hurried off next door, to enjoy the fruits of their experience and reap the creamy rewards.

Copyright 2005 AfroerotiK

VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 9.0/10 (1 vote cast)
VN:F [1.9.22_1171]
Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
Neighborly Hospitality, 9.0 out of 10 based on 1 rating

No Responses to “Neighborly Hospitality”

  1. cheap100

    great story,but if syreeta look so hot why did’t she screw brad to get him unwind noway i could just sit and listen i’m touchcy/feely guy

    VA:F [1.9.22_1171]
    Rating: 0.0/5 (0 votes cast)
    VA:F [1.9.22_1171]
    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)
  2. Futna

    I feel sorry for Brad. It’s unfair for the three of them to humiliate him in such a way.

    VA:F [1.9.22_1171]
    Rating: 0.0/5 (0 votes cast)
    VA:F [1.9.22_1171]
    Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.