My Neighbor Bob is such a sweet guy. Always helps around my house with things that my husband has no skills at. Turns out I’m one of those things, lol! But I digress. Let me explain how I went from a mere horny wife to a horny CHEATING wife.
As I said, this all started with Bob coming over with his tools…
“Thanks for coming over and taking a look at this Bob”
I’m squatting next to my neighbor. His head and arms are obscured from my view as he does an exploratory under my kitchen sink. I take a moment to enjoy the view. My husband is useless when it comes to my “Honey-Do” list – you know that list. The one that has all those ‘fix this’, ‘upgrade that’, ‘need to take care’ things on it. Fortunately for me, I have a neighbor that is well-equipped to tackle said list.
I think to myself, I need to put myself on that list – bet he could take care of me but good…
“No problem Bridgette, I know your husband is away a lot and I’m happy to help you out in his absence.”
Holy crap! Did he just answer my thought? Nope, just my horny wishes running amuck…
What was I thinking again? Oh yeah – God yes, I need you to help me with something – and I’m thinking you have the right tool for the job…
As I give him a gentle pat on his upper thigh, trying not to salivate too much, I reply, “Now you and I both know that Tony’s not very handy around the house. If it weren’t for you, this place would be falling down around my ears from his efforts.”
With that statement, he gives a chuckle because he knows I speak the truth – Bob’s had to fix one of Tony’s “repairs” on more than one occasion. Thankfully, he’s stopped trying to do things around the house and has accepted that Bob is the better man for the job.
I sigh. I gaze at Bob’s crotch hungrily. His cock and all that it can do has been the fuel for many a session with my B.O.B (battery-operated boyfriend). The irony isn’t lost on me – I fantasize about Bob with my B.O.B. Of course if my husband could meet his “husbandly duties” I wouldn’t have to depend on Bob (in both cases). That’s when I giggle at my own thoughts.
Bob stops for a moment and asks me “Care to share in the joke?”
His inquiry brings me back, and I mumble something about it being nothing, just a passing thought. He lets my obtuse response go and gets back to the job at hand.
God, he is just a fine specimen of a male…I bet he tastes just as fine…
He asks me to hand him a wrench, and I do so, but instead of releasing it, I hold on to it, getting his attention.
He peers at me, eyebrows raised in question.
“Is this the right tool for the job Bob?”
I see his gaze slide down to my breasts, and my nipples instantly harden at the attention. Then my tongue flicks out to lick my lips. And of course, my actions make his cock jump inside his jeans, leaving him hard and straining against the denim.
My other hand slides over the bulge, caressing, squeezing; I hear a moan escape from his lips, and his eyes close in bliss at my touch. I think to myself that Bob could give the BBC a run for its money.
“And what about this Bob? Can you get the job done with this? Is this the right tool for me?”
At the same time, my hand was stroking him, pulling the top band to release the button. I bent over his denim-clad cock, my lips on the material, my tongue searching – I found what I needed, and I grasp the metal zipper pull with my teeth, slowly pulling it down. The low groan that my efforts ensure fills my ears, and I feel a gush of wetness soaking my panties at the sounds he’s making, at the anticipation.
That’s when I met his moans with one of my own. Oh yes, I’m finally going to find out how handy my Handy Man is… and how fine he truly tastes.
So, are you ready to be my “Handy Man”? To star in one of my horny cheating wife wet dreams? Then dial my phone sex number and prepare yourself for the best phone sex you’ve ever had!!
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