Pandemic Desperation

With a cry, I fell back once more, embracing that inner secret slut, and spread my legs as far as I could in the front seat, bringing my left knee up to my chest and placing my foot on the dash so I could plunge the fingers of my left hand as deep as they could go into my dripping wet pussy. I whimpered as I fucked myself with two fingers while I used the fingers of my right hand to attack my clit, falling into the circular rhythm with just the right pressure I'd been craving for months.

The sounds of my fingers squelching in and out of my sloppy-wet pussy and my open-mouth moans competed with the sounds of my neighbors. Her cries were reaching a peak as the sounds of sloppy-kissing resounded. He had to be eating her pussy and it for sure seemed like he was doing a wonderful job of it. It had been so long since my husband had licked me. Just like my next-door neighbor, I could not keep quiet when licked. Whenever we did that, our house for sure had to be empty of its teenage occupants or they would undoubtedly hear the same hungry, desperate cries floating down to me now coming out of me instead.

I listened to her desperate cries and thought back to my husband. I loved the way he ate me. He would suckle my full lips first, trace their shape with his tongue before dipping down to taste my gathering juices, then run the flat of his tongue up between my folds to my lap at my clit once, twice, three times before closing his lips around my hard clit and suckling rhythmically. Oh, he was world class at it and my clit jumped beneath my fingers as I remembered his lips and tongue there.

I could hear a masculine groan now coupled with a slurp and I closed my eyes to picture them and what those sounds might mean. They were a handsome couple and I'd met them several times. We had even had them over for dinner a couple times in the past year since they had moved in next door. I could easily picture him with his youthful good looks sitting upright on the bed while she knelt between his spread legs, sucking what must be a beautiful cock for all she's worth. I felt a twinge of shame to picture this, but the answering spike inside me at the image batted the shame away. He grunted again and her answering moan sounded for sure like it was full of cock. I whimpered in response, feeling already on the edge.

Just as a I was picturing him filling her face with a load of cum, I heard a feminine squeal and a resounding smack, then moan, "Oh yes... slap me again, please..." she whimpered and I gasped, my eyes popping open to hear the sound of her voice so clearly. What I saw when I opened my eyes had my hands stilling on my pussy. My young neighbor was pressed up against the screen of her upstairs window, her arms bent at the elbow and propped on the windowsill. They were far enough away that I couldn't make out fine details of her face, but I could see the shape of her perky twenty-something breasts hanging slightly in her bent-over position. Her husband appeared in the window frame, leaning over and kissing the nape of her neck, one hand reaching up to cup one of her high, tight breasts.

"Mmmm... yes, fuck me please. Give it to me hard, please." She begged.

"Ok, baby, hold on tight then." He rasped out before the sharp sound of him slapping her ass came again right before the answering sound of his hips slapping against her full hips. She gave a guttural cry and the distinct sounds of his hips smacking repeatedly against her ass as he fucked her hard and fast just like she wanted rang out in the night air.

In my car below, I gasped aloud with pure shock at witnessing the whole of it and then I was suddenly coming hard and fast around the fingers still embedded deep in my pussy. I had never witnessed another couple fucking before. The thought that they might be able to see me as clearly as I could see them hadn't yet dawned on me as I came down from my quick, spontaneous orgasm. It was so swift and sudden that it had barely scratched the deep itch that had been haunting me for months and despite the shame that pervaded every move I made, I began to rub my clit again and move my fingers slowly. I was transfixed by the sexy young couple fucking feet away from me. I couldn't close my eyes and I couldn't think of anything other than moving my fingers over my still pulsing clit.

The impact of his thrusts were echoed by the sway of her breasts, the wave of her hair and her open-mouthed cries. "Please, yes," she begged in between thrusts, her face flushed hot red, the flush spreading across her chest. I could just see the shape of him behind her in the room, but I could clearly hear each smacking thrust intermixed with a deep grunt here and there as if they were right next to the car door.

My fingers began to match their rhythm, finger-fucking my pussy and rubbing my clit to the timing of their smacking thrusts. In mere minutes I felt that deep orgasm building, my stomach muscles tensing in anticipation even as her moans rose in volume and increased in frequency. We climbed together, the three of us. Just as I heard him cry out "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," the orgasm that I had been longing for several months slammed into me and I lost control, crying out harshly and loudly over and over again as my pussy clenched and pulsed around my fingers 6, 7, 8 times before finally quivering to a wet stop, my clit twitching and pulsing beneath my fingertips.

I gulped several lungfuls of hot summer air as I came down from my orgasm. The last echoes of it tingling through my stomach, my thighs, even down to my toes as the sound of the couple finishing their own above fell down to my ears. I pulled my fingers from my sopping wet pussy and dropped my left leg to the floor of the car, too spent to do more than lay there panting.

"Fuck that was good, baby," I heard the young man next door say.

"Yeah, that was so good. Was it good for you, Mrs. Clark?" Her voice floated down to me, seductive and inviting, shocking me out of my post-orgasmic haze.

I sat up, pulling my dress down over my wetness, my face flaming.

Well, fuck. Just... fuck.

*********

"Need help with the groceries, hun?" My husband Max asked, rising to his feet as I slammed the door behind me, my heart racing.

"What's wrong?" Max asked as he saw my face. "Rae, are you hurt? You're white as a sheet." His voice was laced with concern, but I could only stand there leaning against the door, my head shaking back and forth.

"I'm ok," I squeaked out. "I'm not hurt," not physically I thought. "Just witnessed something, I'll tell you after you and the boys bring in the groceries." I fled to our bedroom as he looked on in concern. As I hurried down the hall, I heard him call for the boys to bring the groceries in.

Once I reached the bedroom, I made a beeline for the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I walked stunned to the side of the large bath and sank slowly until I was sitting. All at once, I came out of it and let out a stream of nervous laughter. I was so fucking embarrassed. How was I going to tell my husband what had just happened? How was I ever going to face the neighbors again. My god? I was 36 years old with two teenage sons, married for 16 years, and I had just finger-fucked myself out of pure desperation in plain view of the twenty something Johnsons, listening to their own frantic fucking. Who does that?! The absurdity of the situation was not lost on me and the laughter bubbled forth until tears were streaming down my face.

"Raegan," my husband knocked at the door and I jumped, swiping the tears from my face. "Honey, please tell me what's wrong, I'm really worried about you."

I hiccupped and wiped my face with a hand towel. How was I going to tell him? How could I admit such depravity while being able to keep hold of a single shred of pride. I mean, I acted like a damn teenager discovering her pussy for the first time. I was too old to act that way, for fuck's sake.

With deep trepidation, I rose and unlocked the door. One look at my face, and Max gathered me in his arms.

"Oh honey, what's wrong?" He squeezed me and I gave an embarrassed laugh into his strong chest and found comfort there just as I always did. This was safety, this was home. We had been together since high school, basically in love for twenty years and married for sixteen and he was just as handsome and sexy to me as the day we met. Our two boys were 13 and 15, and although they were in their angsty teenage years, they were still part of that safety and security for me. He was the best husband and father, and I felt like he deserved better than a sex-starved pervert for a wife.

"Rae," he squeezed me again, prompting me to speak once more.

"Max, is it possible to have a mid-life crisis at 36?" I smiled up at him and felt the tension in his body ease at my smile.

"I guess, baby, why?"

"Because I just did something completely out of character for me and I feel so embarrassed... I don't know what to do next, I..." my voice hitched. I knew my husband well. I knew he would laugh his pants off when he heard what happened and I wasn't looking forward to it.

"Baby, there is nothing so bad that you can't tell me, trust me. Whatever it is, I'm sure your imagination is making it worse than it actually is." I just shook my head and lowered my gaze. "Did you kill someone in a fit of madness?" I shook my head. "Well that's the worst thing I could think of, so anything short of that..." he trailed off in a chuckle, attempting to coax me out of my despondency.

I sighed deeply. I'd have to tell him eventually. I could lie, but I've never yet lied to my husband about anything serious, and I didn't want to start now. I took a breath to start my explanation and, predictably, a knock sounded at the door of our bedroom. Max huffed and turned to the door.

"What's up," he called out. A muffled answer came that sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher was standing on the other side of the door. Max huffed again and let me go, striding to the door. I took the interruption to wet a hand towel and pressed it to my face and neck, soothing the redness produced from my embarrassment and the heat of the car, attempting to soothe my wounded ego as well. I heard the bedroom door shut once more and Max was back beside me, gathering my hands and pulling me into the bedroom.

"Which one was it and what did they want," I said half-exasperatedly.

"The thirteen-year-old was sent by the fifteen-year-old on a mission to beg for the chips you just bought." I started to laugh and Max continued. "I know. Somehow they think that if Josh asks with his still baby face, we are more likely to say yes than we would be if MJ asked." We both chuckled at the logical reasoning skills of our kids that we adored. "It's ok. I already told him if he and his brother were hungry they could eat an apple or carrots instead because bedtime is in an hour."

"Good. Though we are just delaying the inevitable. Those groceries will last a week tops, bet."

"I know. I was the same at their age though. Their legs are hollow in their teen years to pack the food away." I gigged and snuggled into his side.

"Now, tell me what had you running through the house like a bat out of hell. Please."

"Ok... well..." I looked down and away, unable to meet his eyes, my face flaming. "I..." I blew out my breath exasperatedly, resigned to the fact that I was going to have to tell him. "I was caught masturbating in the car by the Johnsons." I said it all in a rush to just get it out.

To his credit, Max made a valiant attempt to keep his face straight. It lasted all of one minute before he burst out laughing.

"Max!" I pushed his arm and when he didn't stop I pinched a nipple. He flinched and pulled away, crying with laughter before he sobered up.

"Oh my god, oh... hooo.... I have not laughed like that in months. Thank you for that baby."

"Max, stop! It isn't funny!" I said, though a chuckle also tickled my lips as the hysterical laughter threatened to burst forth once again. I rose from his side to pace the room to stave it off and he followed after me.

"Oh, baby, it is! I promise you. That's the most adorable thing I've ever heard. You, I mean you were caught masturbating. In all the years we've been married, I've never even caught you masturbating. I have to hear this story. Don't leave a single word out, please."

I chewed my lip. On one hand I was relieved he wasn't disgusted by me like I was disgusted by me, and on the other hand, my feelings were a bit bruised at being laughed at for something that was extremely embarrassing for me, though to be fair I really couldn't fault him. After all, I had laughed at myself. I turned and deadpanned him.

"You swear? Cross your heart and hope to die?"

"Absolutely," he pursed his lips into a serious expression and made a cross over his heart. He pulled me back to the bed, kissing the tip of my red nose.

"Ok," I sat down and let it all pour out; the desperation of the past few months, the depraved feelings and lascivious thoughts at the grocery store, then the parked car and hearing the Johnsons fucking against their upstairs window... how scintillating it felt, how transfixed I was, how I couldn't force myself to turn away even though I knew it was wrong, disgusting, absolutely horrific that I could listen to it and touch myself, and then touching myself where anyone could see, and did see! I finished and found myself almost in tears over my deep embarrassment, and he hugged me, stroking my back soothingly.

"Honey.... I know it's embarrassing to be caught like that. I would be too if I were in the same situation, but please believe me when I tell you that nothing is wrong with you. It's not depraved, you aren't gross or sick or anything. I know you had a pretty strict, religious upbringing and I love how sweet and innocent you are even now after having two kids and all of our years of marriage. It's adorable, like Rose from that old show The Golden Girls, you are just eternally sweet and honest even though I have spent the last sixteen years attempting to corrupt you and I love and adore you for it. It's one of the things that drew me to you when we first met and it draws me to you now. But please don't think you're gross, or depraved, or anything. Please. For me. Don't think like that because you aren't any such thing." He hugged me closer and I sighed.

"I love you Max, thank you for understanding and not judging me. It's not really that I'm ashamed, I mean, I am, of course I am, but I know that masturbation isn't wrong... I do think it was wrong of me to masturbate in the car and I mean... hell, Max," I looked at him with a little desperation. "What the hell am I going to say when I see the Johnsons?! They saw me. They knew I was listening to them." I shook my head as the reality of it sunk in. What on earth was I going to say to them. I couldn't avoid them forever, we were neighbors. We would run into each other on the street and we knew them in a way, having invited them over to dinner and game night more than once.

"We will be honest and straightforward with them. You can't tell me that they didn't know they could be seen fucking up against the window like that. They had to have known. They probably got as much of a thrill out of you watching and listening to them as you did. That's a thing you know, exhibition and voyeurism. It's a very real fetish for millions of people. It's not a new idea that only you and they know of."

I sat thinking for a moment while Max rubbed my back soothingly. He was right. They had to have known all along. They probably went up to their bedroom and spotted me in the car when they went to open the window to let the night breeze in and I might have even inspired their fuck session. I snorted at the thought that this hot young couple could possibly be turned on by me in any way and Max squeezed my arm.

"What? Let me in on the joke."

"You're just probably right is all. I honestly didn't think of that"

"And that's funny? I'm always right." I rolled my eyes. God how I loved this man. He continued stroking my back, his hands moving in ever widening circles until finally catching the edge of my breast, and then lingering there, until he was just out and out groping me and I smirked. He was nothing if not predictable and I loved him for it.

"To be honest," he continued, "that story was fucking hot. I'm jealous of the Johnsons getting to watch you touch and play with yourself. It's been a long time since I've got to see you play with that beautiful pussy between your legs, a long time since you've let me taste you and linger... play with you like I want because you're too afraid of the boys hearing those delicious sounds you make... You are incredibly sexy my sweet, sweet Rae, just as you were the first day I married you. So beautiful, especially with this deep blush splashed across your face. Makes me just want to... well..." my lips parted as a flush of arousal swept through me. He took my hand and settled it in his lap, right against the thick press of him in his loose flannel sleep pants and thrust his hips up into my hand suggestively.

Even though I had just had an epic orgasm in the car, I felt my pussy answer the physical evidence of his arousal pressed against my hands, hungering for the deep fuck I knew he was capable of giving me. I leaned forward and pressed my full breasts against him and he caught my mouth in an open-mouthed kiss, plunging his tongue into mine and I whimpered against him, squeezing his erection in my fist. My husband's dick was thick with a perfect length, and so rock hard. He had always been able to go from zero to rock hard in an instant and I craved his hardness and thickness to reach those places my fingers just couldn't.

I hitched up my gray tank-dress exposing my panty-less state and threw my leg over his waist. He gasped roughly with desire as he hastily pulled his cock from his pants and in an instant his cock was buried to the hilt within my dripping-wet pussy, hitting that deep, rough spot inside. I arched my back into him, pressing my breasts against his chest and rocked my clit against his pubic bone, pushing his cock in deeper and rocking the head of his cock against that sweet spot. He made a little masculine grunt of surprised delight beneath me and I shuddered at the sound, feeling a little spasm of guilt that it reminded me of Mr. Johnson next door, grunting as he came into his wife just moments earlier. My face flamed and I started fucking his cock hard and fast, my own soft cries coming quick and incessant, in no way controllable.

Max placed his hand over my mouth to stifle the cries I couldn't ever help from repressing and used his other hand to grip one of my ass cheeks, angling my hips in just the right way so that when I fucked him, it built that sweet internal orgasm with the perfect angle he knew would get me there as his thick, slightly curved cock rubbed that delicious spot inside over and over again. In mere minutes I exploded on top of him, crying out beneath his hand, my eyes rolling back in my skull, my back arching, and he emptied himself into me with another thick grunt, his hips flexing with every pulse against my quivering pussy and jumping clit.

"Fuck, Rae, holy hell," Max panted, sweat glistening on his brow. "That was intense." I could only nod in agreement, my lust finally satiated after three orgasms and a deep, fast fuck.

Max lifted me off of him and lay back against the pillows, gathering me into his arms. I panted against his side, letting my heart slow down in the safety of his arms. I felt a thousand times better than I had and I was so grateful for Max's sexual openness. He had been raised in the complete opposite way from me. While his family was religious, they weren't bible-thumpers like mine who raised their children to be god-fearing and shame-filled.