Read Milking The Neighbor's Wife Online

Authors: Isabella Winters

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Milking The Neighbor's Wife

Milking The Neighbor’s Wife

 

Isabella Winters

 

Copyright 2012 Isabella Winters

 

Smashwords Edition

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental unless specified in acknowledgements.

 

Copyright © 2012 Isabella Winters

 

Smashwords Edition

 

All rights reserved.

 

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person , please purchase and additional copy for each recipient. If
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and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work
of this author.

It’s been a while since I’d had a day to
myself. David took the baby and went to visit his mother for the
weekend. Three days of quiet, and a chance to pamper myself.

In the living room I pulled up a playlist on
the laptop and turned the speakers on. I glanced out the window and
saw the neighbor guy doing yard work. I stopped to watch him. He
had his shirt off and was pulling weeds. The summer sun beat down
on his tan, golden skin. A light layer of sweat glistened over
toned muscles.

His muscles flexed as he moved and his
movements were fluid - like a big cat. I tried to remember the
guy’s name, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember it.
Something stirred inside of me as I watched him. He was attractive
man with dark hair and equally dark eyes. A bachelor or sorts. I
don’t think I’d exchanged more than ten words with him since we’d
moved into the house six months ago, right after the baby was born.
A few pleasantries here and there. Waving mainly. We would be
outside at the same moment and there would be tiny waves of
recognitions and hellos.

As if he sensed me watching him, he stopped
pulling weeds, looked over his shoulder, and stared directly at me
watching him in the window. I felt embarrassed. My cheeks burned
red-hot. I didn’t want him to think I was perv. I raised my hand
quickly and waved at him. He smiled brightly and waved back, but
didn’t turn back to his work. I stepped out of the way of the
window and hide behind the wall.

Why was I embarrassed? It took me a few
seconds to realize I was turned on. Wow. My hormones have been out
of whack ever since I’d given birth. And I really didn’t get much
of a chance to take care of the situation. Between the baby waking
up every few hours, wanting food, and David constantly complaining
of exhaustion, I was lucky if after the baby fell back asleep I
could sneak into the bathroom and masturbate a couple time a
week.

I wasn’t really unfulfilled though. There was
something about nursing that helped. My breasts were swollen with
milk. I looked better now than before the pregnancy. My girlfriends
complained about how lucky I was. The baby weight melted of pretty
quick. And with my new found rounded and full breasts, I looked
like a Playboy model.

I shook my head trying to clear my head of
the tension, then thought,
wait, David is gone. I have three
days to myself. I should make a day of it.

The music was bouncing of the hardwood floors
and I wondered if it was too loud as I headed toward the
bedroom.

Once in the bedroom, I thought about going
through my normal masturbation routine, which consisted of striping
down, fingering myself, and rubbing my clit till I came. That was
how I did it while everyone slept. But then I remember something.
No one is here. Noise isn’t an issue. And I had a secret.

I opened the closet door, and pulled a
shoebox from the stack in the back.

David was very vanilla. He didn’t see any
problem with our sex life. And certainly didn’t think that we
needed in help in the bedroom. The most he experimented was with
some sticky edible lube. One of my girlfriends recently had party.
It was like an old-fashioned Tupperware party, but instead of hard
core storage bowls, the host provided an array of dildos, pornos,
lubes, nighties, lotions, oils, and just about anything anyone
would ever need to get off.

The girls had laughed and giggled over all
the stuff during the party. But at the end, the sales lady would
sit in Diana’s bedroom, and one by one the girls could discretely
go in and order whatever they desired.

I had playfully tried to bring up what I had
purchased at the party to David, but whenever I mentioned the word
dildo, he automatically became defensive of his manhood. I felt it
was better to keep it hidden from him, and hoped that someday he
would look at it differently. We probably needed more assistance in
the bedroom now than ever before.

I pulled the lid off the shoe box, and
unwrapped the tissue paper around the shoes. There it was, nestled
between the shoes. A nine inch vibrator. It was hot pink, which I
thought was cute. And the sales lady had told me how much I was
really going to enjoy this model as she pointed out the features.
Half of the vibrator was clear, exhibiting pink and white beads
that, once turned on, rotated. I turned the switch and watched the
thing pulse in my hands.

As I watched the vibrator, I could feel an
urgency building between my legs, and pressure in my breasts. It
was probably getting close to the time that I had to pump my
breasts.

I grabbed my robe off the back of the closet
door and headed to the bathroom with my sex toy.

I lit a couple of candles in the bathroom,
and stared drawing a bath in our Jacuzzi tub – the main reason I
fell in love with this house. I added some bubble bath solution to
the water and started to undress. When I pulled down my panties,
they were already wet. I inspected myself in the mirror on the back
of bathroom door. I did look good, and I hoped my breasts stayed
this large when I stopped feeding. I fondled them in the mirror,
cupping them and giving them a light squeeze.

Milk dribbled from my nipples and slid down
my stomach.

I grabbed a hair rubber band from the counter
and pulled my hair up to keep it from getting wet.

The tube had filled and I shut the water off.
I entered, set my vibrator on the edge, submerged my body up to my
neck, and turned the jets on. The water churned and massaged my
body. The hot water washed over my nipples and they became hard. I
played with my nipples. They’d become so sensitive since breast
feeding and the sensation made my excitement and need grow
stronger.

I slid my fingers down my stomach and lightly
across my clit. My body pulsed at the slight touch. Every fiber
within me ached for the orgasm, but I knew the longer I waited, the
stronger the orgasm would be.

I rose to my knees in the tub and turned to
face a pulsing jet of water, careful to stay a good distance from
the current. If I was too close, the strong pressure would send me
into an instant orgasm. At a distance, I let the faint pulse of
water ripple over my pussy, causing the desire for something
fulfilling to rise inside of me.

Leaning forward on my knees, I picked up the
vibrator and turned it on. I placed one hand on the tubs edge and
cradled the vibrator with the other. I felt the vibrator hum and
rubbed it against my hard nipples, causing them to leak into the
bathwater. My tits ached to be relieved of milk as much as my pussy
ached to have a mind blowing orgasm.

As I rubbed the vibrator over my tight
nipples, my pelvis began thrusting toward the current of the water.
I arched my back, raising my ass into the perfect position. I held
the edge of the tub firmly, and reached behind myself with the
vibrator in hand. Slowly, I placed the tip of the humming vibrator
against my wet lips, and inserted a couple of inches of the toy
into my vagina. The need to have an orgasm was overwhelming. I
teased myself by stroking slowly, and only a couple of inches. I
slid the toy out and ran the pulsing middle along my vaginal lips,
making sure to steer clear of my clit. I didn’t want this to end so
soon.

I spread my legs further apart and moved
closer to the jet of water. The water teased my clit viscously. I
grabbed one breast and pinched the nipple then squeezed the tit
hard. Milk squirted into the bathwater.

I pressed my clit harder against the jet and
bucked my hips against the pressure. I reinserted the vibrator from
behind and thrust it deep and hard into my wet pussy. I thrust and
bucked. Thrust and bucked. And I felt on the verge of a massive
orgasm. I quickened the speed of the vibrator strokes and pressed
my throbbing clit directly against the beating jet. Just as I
climaxed, I pressed the head of the vibrator on my G-spot, causing
me to squirt in the bathwater, and clamped my hand around my aching
breast hard, expelling milk in a fountain onto the bathroom
floor.

The ecstasy of the release caused me to emit
a high-pitched scream. My body convulsed with the intense orgasm
and I moaned loudly. I reveled in aftermath of the sensation for a
few moments and then exited the tub.

I dried myself and pulled on the plush rub.
The doorbell rang. For a moment I thought I was going to ignore it,
but frantic thoughts raced through my mind. What if something was
wrong? I wasn’t expecting anyone.

I cinched my robe tight, left the bathroom
door open, turned off the music, and headed toward the front door,
which was in plain view of the bathroom. I looked out the peep hole
and saw the shirtless neighbor standing on the stoop. His
expression showed concern and he looked around agitated. He lifted
his hand and knocked loudly on the door.

Grabbing my robe close to my neck, I cracked
the door open.

“Hello?” I said.

He ran his hand through his dark hair. “Hey.
Uh. Is everything okay in there? I thought I heard a scream.”

“Oh.” I had trouble looking at his face and
opened the door a little wider. “No, everything is okay. I was just
taking a bath.”

His face twisted into confusion. “Well, I
wanted to make sure no one had broken in or something. I noticed
your husband’s car has been gone for a while.” I thumbed over his
shoulder toward the driveway.

“Oh, he’s out of town for the weekend.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He looked beyond
me into the house.

He seemed to be checking to see if there was
anyone else in the house with me. I tried to not stare at his
well-muscled body as he shifted nervously on the front step.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I just, uh…” I tried to
come up with a good excuse that could have caused me to scream. “I
saw a millipede in the bathroom.”

He chuckled. “That’s no good. Millipedes are
a sign that you have a leak. You should have someone take a look at
that right away.”

 

“I’ll have my husband look at it when he gets
back.”

“When’s he gonna be home?”

“In a few days.”

“That’s no good,” he said again. “A leak can
get out of control really quick. You could wake up tomorrow and the
whole house could be flooded. I know a little about plumbing.” He
ran his hand through his hair again. The muscles in his arm and
chest flexed with the movement. “I can at least take a look at it
and tell you if you’ve gotta problem, then you can call a
plumber.”

The guy was persistent. I figured it couldn’t
hurt to let him take a look. He wouldn’t find anything and then he
could go back to pulling weeds. I’d have to keep the volume of my
weekend turned down.

Not thinking of what the bathroom looked
like, I opened the door wider and said, “Sure, why not?” I extended
my hand as stepped inside. “By the way my name is Karen. My memory
isn’t great. Your name is…?”

“Jason.” He shook my hand then pointed to the
bathroom. “Is this it?”

I nodded. He walked toward the bathroom and I
followed. He squatted inside the door. His jeans were pulled tight
against him muscular thighs. My eyes danced over the lines of his
body.

“It looks like you have a leak for sure,” he
said.

I focused on his line of sight and noticed
the pool of milk on the tiled floor. My heart skipped a beat as I
also noticed the hot pink vibrator on the counter. Apparently he
hadn’t noticed it. I tried not to focus on it, but I would die if
he saw it. I scooted in the room and hovered over him, pretending
to look at what he was inspecting, but I was actually trying to
stand in front of the toy on the counter – hoping he wouldn’t
notice it.

“I’m not real sure where it’s coming from. Or
what it is,” he said. “It doesn’t look like water.” He looked up at
me.

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