two more visitors

After recovering from the mind-blowing sex with the couple from down the block, Klyde Robinson helped me finish with our new home's window treatments while our wives supervised and made sure we got things just so. A short time later, we bid the ebon couple adieu, and moved upstairs to finish putting away what my wife considered our more personal belongings. I sort of chuckled to myself at her sense of modesty. We had just fucked and sucked ourselves senseless with our new neighbors, but she for some reason felt ill at ease having people see our clothing and toiletries.

It was now late Friday afternoon and we were nearly done with everything we could think of that needed doing in our increasingly cozy little abode when there was a ringing from the front door.

"Shall we go down together to greet some more new neighbors?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows lecherously at her as I did so.

"Oh, God, Steve!" she said, though without that tone I had become accustomed to of late. She still sounded cheery and full of laughter, even though I thought she was about to berate me.

"We both probably reek of sex! What if it's the local church ladies or something?" she asked rhetorically as I enjoyed the view of her bending over to put some of her lingerie in a bottom drawer.

She still wore the same ragged little crop top and cutoffs she had on this morning and both were looking a little worse for wear. The cumsoaked crotchseam pulled tight to reveal both her creamy round buttcheeks as well as the split lips of her pussy as she bent forward. I enjoyed the view of the lower swells of her titties as well as the pale flesh glowed in the filtered daylight.

I grabbed my crotch, shaking my head at my good fortune at having such a hot piece as my wife. I squeezed my resurgent cock as I headed for the door. I looked down, my bulge wasn't too obvious. I did notice some stains from our recent sexplay as well, but nothing that couldn't be written off as the toils of labor, as my tee shirt was speckled with sweat from dragging the final boxes of bedroom belongings up from downstairs.

I chugged down the flight of stairs, stepping quickly through the living room, curious to see who might now be awaiting on our doorstep. I hoped they hadn't left. Another doorbell ring confirmed they hadn't.

I first looked through the white door's peephole. I saw another couple standing there, or at least a man and woman. The brunette seemed to be holding the rather younger man in place, shooting him a sharp glance.

My curiosity piqued, I could wait no longer. I opened the door with a big smile.

"Hello there!" I said, trying not to look obvious as I more closely scrutinized the two.

The young guy looked barely nineteen, thin and tall. His eyes darted around, like he wished he was anywhere else but on my doorstep. There was something familiar about him.

The woman beside him was inches shorter, but clearly in control. She was a pretty, porcelain-skinned woman with ice-blue eyes and ruby red lips. Her wavy raven hair fell forward over her shoulders as she tilted her head to acknowledge my greeting.

"Good afternoon, sir. I'm pleased to meet you. I just wish it were under better circumstances," the thirty-something beauty replied, extending her free hand to take mine.

"Please come in," I said, a little perplexed. I moved aside to let them enter our living room.

I took this time to admire the gentle curves of whom I assumed to be the lad's mother as she passed by. She wore a clingy white lightweight sweater with a pair of demure denim shorts that showed off her long legs.

Just then, I heard Lisa bound down the stairs. I turned to see her trot towards us, still in her miniscule outfit. I noticed the young man's eyes upon her bouncing little titties. They bobbed, unfettered by a bra under her thin tank top.

"What's going on, Steve?" she asked as she smoothed her hands over her little cutoffs.

"I was just about to find out, honey," I said, wrapping an arm around her waist as she stepped to my side.

"I'm Martha Franklin and this is my son Ben," she said, gesturing to the tousle-haired teen by her side.

'Martha.. Ben..' I thought. Those names..

"There's no easy way to say this," the alabaster-skinned beauty stated. "I saw what went on in your backyard last night."

My wife and I just exchanged surprised looks.