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Bobbie and Bobby Revisited

With three ex-wives and a current one (all sluts) and with a long and full life to draw on there is always a little bit of me in every story I write. I've seen a lot, done a lot, have watched things happen and have had things happen to me and a lot of it makes it's way into the stories I write. In short, my stories are a combination of fact and fiction, but then I'm sure that most of you had figured that out long ago.

This story is true.

The odds against it happening were astronomical - on a par with the odds of Mars hitting this planet - but high odds or not, it did happen.

There is a street I drive down every day going to and from work. Even though the people on the street are not close neighbors we still see each other all the time and when we do we usually wave. One night, on my way home from work, I saw one of these neighbors getting her mail from the mailbox. I'd seen her before plenty of times, but she had always been wearing baggy sweats. This time she was wearing a dress and five-inch heels and she was looking good. For me high heels are at the top of my "turn on" list and so the image of her waving at me as I drove past stayed with me for quite a while.

A month or so went by and one day I noticed that they were tearing up their front yard. Since landscaping is something that I'm always doing at my house I would slow down every day and scope out what they were doing.

One Saturday I had been out and about running some errands in my wife's convertible and as I came by their place I saw the woman and her husband working in the yard. He was building a retaining wall and she was trying to break up the ground with a little roto-tiller. It was a small one, meant to break up loose dirt in an existing flowerbed, and it wasn't doing any good on the clay-based soil that was in our area. I try to be neighborly so I stopped and offered them the use of my eight-horse tiller. The man thanked me and told me that his brother was already on his way over with a bigger tiller.

The woman was wearing a sports bra and shorts and she was an attention getter. About 5'9", long dark hair and a body that was built to generate hard ons. She saw me looking and she gave me one of those "I know what you want and thanks for the interest" smiles and as I pulled away from the curb I tried to image her wearing high heels with the outfit she had on.

Over the course of the next month I saw her out in the yard several times and we would wave as I drove by. Then one morning as I was on my way to work I saw her getting into her car to go to work. She was wearing a dress and heels and as she stepped into the car she showed an impressive amount of nylon covered leg. I thought about it all the way to work and by the time I got home that night I had formed a story in my head. The result was "Bobbie and Bobby". One day my front doorbell rang and I opened the door to find the woman standing there. She was dressed in the shorts and sports bra she had been wearing on the day I stopped to offer the use of my tiller and she was also wearing black CFMs. She gave me a big smile and said, "Hello there Just Plain Bob." I didn't know her real name so all I could say was "Hello there Bobbie."

"May I come in?"

I stepped aside and she came in and I led her into the family room. I asked her if she would like a drink and she said she would have a beer if I had any. When I came back into the room with the beer she stood up and did a pirouette in front of me, "What do you think? Do the heels really make you want to help?"

I smiled, "You have obviously read the story so you already know the answer to that."

"Is your wife here?"

"No, she's next door."

"Will she be back soon?"

"I don't think so. Lance will probably keep her busy for another hour or two."

"Lance? As in "Annie And The Neighbors?"

I nodded a yes.

"Wow. I really don't know why I'm here. I just finished reading "Bobby and Bobbie" and I just knew that you had to be Just Plain Bob. So I got out of my work clothes and put on what I was wearing the day you stopped by and hurried over to let you know that I knew. Paul is going to shit when he comes home and reads it."

"You don't read the stories together?"

"No. Neither one of us can stand to have anyone looking over our shoulder when we are on the computer so I have it from when I get home at four until he gets home at six-thirty and then he gets it. We've only spoken the one time you stopped to offer us the use of your roto-tiller so how did you know we had a wet bar in the basement?"

"I didn't know. I made that part up. How close did I come to the rest of it?"

She giggled, "You missed on the oral sex part, but you hit the nail on the head with the anal part."

"Pity. From what I can see of you in those shorts you have an ass that is just begging for attention."

"You really think so?"

"Absolutely. I'd be more than happy to help you out there."

"Would you really?"

"You bet."

"I might just have to take you up on that, but I'll have to talk to Paul first."

"It's an open invitation."

"Won't your wife mind?"

"My wife is next door fucking the neighbor. Does that sound like someone who would care?"

"In the story you said she didn't know that you knew about her."

"All my stuff is part fact and part fiction."

"Is there really an Amber and a father?"

"Of course."

"Are you fucking Amber and is her father fucking your wife?"

I smiled at her, "I have to have some secrets sweetie; I wouldn't want you to lose interest in me and what I write. How about eating you when you have cum in you, does Paul do that?"

"Oh no."

"There's an open invitation on that also."

"I guess I'll have to ask Paul about that too."

I sat there looking at her. There is something deliciously slutty about women in shorts and "come fuck me" pumps, but she managed to look both like a slut and an innocent, fresh faced housewife at the same time. I wondered which one she was or if in fact she was neither or both.

"Since ninety-eight percent of what I write only goes to one site is there some significance to the fact that you read the Loving Wives section?

She blushed and said, "Kind of."

"What does kind of mean?"

"Paul has always wanted me to have sex with another man so anything with wife watching in the title grabs his attention."

"So do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Have sex with other men while he watches?"

"Oh no. I've always said no. I get turned on reading the stories about women who do, but I haven't done it myself."

"Do you want to?"

"No. I'm happy being a one man woman."

"But you just told me that you might take me up on my offer to have sex with you. You said you had to ask Paul."

"That's right, I did didn't I." She looked at her watch, "Oops, I'd better get going."

"Before you go could I ask you a big favor, a very, very big favor?"

"What?"

"Would you take off your shorts and panties and give me a good look at that marvelous ass of yours?"

"I couldn't do that."

"Why not? I'll behave and you just might read about it in another story."

She looked at me for several seconds and then, "You won't do anything? Just look at it?"

"Promise."

Another long look and then she stood up, took off her shorts and underwear and did a slow turn in front of me. Her ass was perfect. I decided to press my luck. "Bend over and let me see."

For a second the look she gave me made me think I'd gone too far, but then she turned, bent at the waist, reached behind and spread her ass cheeks and gave me a look at her rosebud.

"Can I kiss it?"

She straightened up, "No. This has already gone too far" and she reached down for her shorts.

"Please? I'll keep my hands in my pockets. This is just too good - it's story material. Please, I'll keep my hands in my pockets. I just want a taste."

I could see that she was wrestling with it. I could see she wanted to, but I could also see that she wanted to get out of my house before she got in too deep. Finally, "You promise?"

"I promise. I have to be good or you won't ask Paul if I can have it for real."

Another long look and then she turned, bent at the waist and spread herself. I walked over to her and got down on my knees behind her and stuck my tongue out and poked it against her rosebud. She gave a little cry and pushed her ass back at me and I licked her crack as far as I could go. She quickly straightened up, "I have to go now" and she hurriedly got into her shorts. I walked her to the door and then I said, "I don't know your name."

She smiled and said, "As far as you are concerned its Bobbie" and she went down the porch steps and down the front walk. I called to her, "You be sure and ask Paul" and she waved at me.

That was last week. I haven't seen her in the yard when I drive by and she hasn't called or come back.

Paul - if you are reading this, did she tell you about her visit? Did she ask you if she could? You should know that she wants to, I sure as hell want to, and if she was right about it being your fantasy then you want it too. Work with me here.

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