Neighbors erotic stories, part six.

The six friends opted for the Cheese factory in Cocowalk for their lunch. Following Rico’s video viewing in the limousine, the ride to Coconut Grove was hushed, each one absorbed in his or her own erotic thought.

Once there, they picked a high circular table on the bar side of the restaurant and climbed up the high stools. A waitress took their order and shortly, the Mojitos and Margaritas were served to the girls while the guys settled for beers. They were studying the menu when the waitress returned with an extra drink and placed it in front of Karen.

“It’s from the lady over there.” She said pointing.

She pointed in the direction of an elegant couple seating at the restaurant side. The man was busy attacking his meal, but the lady lifted her glass to Karen flashing a wide smile. Karen reciprocated but not before turning into all shades of red.

“Who is that?” Lindsay asked.

“She’s just a customer.” Karen answered looking more flustered as she tried to avert five expectant set of eyes.

The friends looked at a late thirty, strikingly beautiful looking lady with full lips highlighting a square face. Dark rich and full black hair gave her a haunting look.

“If she is just a customer, why are you blushing so much?” Tony inquired with a smirk.

The waitress arriving with their entrees gave Karen a momentary break. She dug into her salad ignoring her new friends inquiring stares.

“Come on Karen, spill the beans…”

“She was a regular. I used to go to her house and give her a massage once a month.”

“Used to go?” Lindsay asked.

“The last time I gave her a massage something happened. Since then I’ve been avoiding her calls.”

“I knew it! What happened?” Tony chimed in.

She took a sip of her drink and stole a furtive look across the restaurant at her customer and back at her friends. They huddled closer.

“We…sort of had something for each other. We’ve both always felt it. I mean, I like guys and everything, but there was something unnerving about this woman.” Karen stopped when the waitress arrived with their order.

“In the past,” Karen resumed, “her husband had always been at home during our appointments. The last time though, he was out of town. She asked me to set up the massage table in the den while she changed. Minutes later, she walked in, put on some music, and seductively dropped her plush robe while coyly covering her bosom. She spread herself on her stomach and rested her face in the face rest. I was left admiring her sheer white panties which flattered her bubble shape derriere. While gawking at her sexy behind, my mind was propelled into several erotic scenarios. So engrossed I was, I didn’t notice her looking at me. I felt mortified getting caught; I quickly covered her lower half with a towel. As if encouraging me to look, she readily slid the towel off.”

“What do you wear when you visit customers?” Mike asked.

“I always wear white medical scrubs.” She answered, looking quizzically at him.

“Forget about him. Guys are always so visual, don’t you know that?” Tony said. “So what happened after that?”

“She asked me not to use any oils, “Karen resumed as she toyed with a shrimp on her plate. “She had her hair swept up, so I began massaging her neck. Her arms were by her side, but after my hands swept over her back, she dropped them toward the floor. Suddenly I had full access to her full- breasts—which my hands unwillingly gravitated to. Realizing my brashness, I lowered my hands to the small of her back. Several minutes later I walked behind her and started massaging her feet. Slowly she inched her legs apart, my eyes traveled to that coveted area between her legs and I felt my own legs almost give in. Her sheer panties were laced with her moisture.”

Suddenly the friends saw Karen’s customer approach them.

“Karen you naughty girl, are you telling your friends how you ravaged my body?” She said with a seductive laugh then headed to the restrooms.

“Man, this woman is hot.” Alex said. “Get to the ravaging point, will you.”

“At that point I could feel my own wetness, my scrubs and panties were no match to the onslaught emanating from me. I kneaded her legs upward very slowly. She began to squirm. When I reached her knees, I started tentatively inching one hand up. Her skin was burning my hand. Suddenly my finger was close enough for me to feel her wetness. Once again my legs were rubbery; I lost control and pulled her wet panties slightly. My finger slid easily inside her, she responded with a groan and lifted her behind to meet my finger. She kept gyrating against my finger again and again until she collapsed on the table with exhaustion.” Karen looked at her friends, “I almost collapsed as well, her wandering toe ravaging me.”

Neighbors erotic stories, part five.

Neighbors erotic stories part four, posted 12/19/2009.

The next day, the six new friends climbed in Rico’s white stretch limousine heading to Coconut Grove for brunch. The interior of the white Lincoln had an unkempt appearance, yet still dazzled the friends as they scattered giddily around.

It had plush leather seats in the shape of an L. One part had its back to the driver’s raised smoky partition; the other part ran to one side—almost the length of the Limo. Across the isle, a love seat was followed by a mahogany and glass bar. Two perforated mahogany shelves covered the length of the bar, holding a dozen or so Champagne flutes.

“Sorry guys, I didn’t have time to clean up with yesterday being Thanksgiving Day and all.” Rico said, seeing his new friends looking at the mess.

They were eyeing three empty champagne bottles nestled in larger openings atop the bar’s base. Half a dozen unwashed flutes—some with Champagne left in them some smeared with lipstick betrayed a recent wild party.

“That must have been some party!” Lindsay retorted. “How many people were here?”

“Only two people, a man and his wife.” Rico answered.

“Must have gotten a nice buzz with three bottles of bubbly?” Mike asked.

“That’s not the only high they had.” Rico said as he pulled a tray from a drawer. The tray had some white residue on it. “They used rolled hundred dollar bills to powder their noses.”

“Like I said, that must have been some party!” Lindsay repeated with a laugh.

Alex nudged Rico and winked. “So did you watch through the glass if they did anything naughty?”

“Nah,” he answered, then smirked. “I was back here with them.”

“You dog! Tell us about it.”

“Wednesday I picked up the couple from Key Biscayne and took them to a club on Washington Avenue in South Beach. The man was in his early sixties, his wife in her twenties. After the club on the way home, he asked me to stop on the MacArthur causeway—his wife wanted to check out the cruise lines. I stopped on the shoulder, she stuck her head through the moon roof, Champagne flute in hand; she was giddy and started whooping and laughing in the wind. When he invited me to join them back here, a state of the art, digital camcorder materialized in his hand and he asked me to film his wife. His hands were unsteady with all the drinking, he said. With only her lower body inside, I asked if he wanted me to film her from outside. To my surprise, he motioned to her long slender leg and butt. She had removed her pumps and stood bear feet on the seat, with her short red dress, there was a lot of leg to film. I felt awkward filming his wife, but he simply attacked the second bottle of Champagne and every time she moved, he spurred me to film under her dress. ‘I want to add it to my collection,’ he retorted.”

“And you happily obliged, I’m sure.” Alex added.

“Hey, someone has to do it. Besides, I get paid by hour, so…”

“Did she see you filming her?” Lindsay asked with interest.

“At one point she ducked her head inside and saw the camera in my hand. She grinned at it and reached her flute to him for a refill. Needless to say when she reached for the refill, more leg were suddenly exposed. They appeared on the little touch screen display perfectly tanned. I slowly tilted the camera higher, activated the powerful optical zoom to be immediately awarded with the sight of one of those perfunctory sling bikini thongs. After finishing the Champagne with one gulp, she plopped herself back on the seat, powdered her nose some more, emptied another flute, then it was…Showtime. This woman was no stranger to that camera; she sat with her feet firmly planted on the lush carpet, her back rested straight on the backrest and began to slowly slide her dress up, looking directly into the camera. At once, her husband encouraged me to sit on the floor for an explicit vantage point.”

As if to show his friends the exact location, Rico slid to the floor then resumed. “This seemed to encourage her as well, because she spread her legs and slid down until her butt was almost off the seat. She bunched those sling thongs with one hand, pulled them until they were barely visible. When the thongs were submerged in her moisture, she stopped pulling momentarily and repositioned her butt on the seat—allowing the thongs to slacken. Then again she pulled...and slackened. A soft moan escaped from her sexy pout lips as she painstakingly kept this oscillating to and fro motion. While the lens still aimed between her legs, I unabashedly opted to take in the spectacle live. Abruptly, minutes later, the to and fro movements stopped and she began to oscillate the thongs sideways like a pendulum—deliberately at first then furiously. Her moan turned into a raspy groan, her toes curled and dug into the carpet and with ecstasy she threw her head back.”

Suddenly Rico stopped his narration, stood up, walked toward the front of the limo and reached for a nylon bag behind the seat. Pulling the camcorder from the bag, he said with a grin. “They forgot it behind. Who wants to see it live?”