Laying Pipe: Part 1 Podcast By cover art

Laying Pipe: Part 1

Laying Pipe: Part 1

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 John finds the depths of his neighbors. By Bitterjohnzim. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. My neighbors, Tom and Beth, had lived on the other side of the garden wall with their three children for 22 years. With their youngest, Lacey, off to college, they'd invested their time in renovations that had recently escalated to a full reconstruction of their sprawling Victorian. According to Tom, half the plumbing leaked and the other half was lead, so it all had to go. Being a good neighbor, and valuing the occasional invite to their holiday parties, I graciously offered access to my house while they waited on the plumbing work, specifically leaving the veranda doors of a guest room unlocked for their free use.Of course, by nature of thick walls and good door fitment, there were accidents. While Tom was clockwork with a morning constitutional and an evening shower, a timing I enjoyed, frequently haranguing him into joining me for morning coffee, Beth tended towards crossing the yard at much more unpredictable times, and often very late at night. It was the second time she stopped me in the hall, naked but for a very thin, green and gold, silk bathrobe, silhouetted in the dark passage by the guest room's lamps, and asked for some odd linen or toiletry- that I suspected there might be more. The third time, nearly midnight, with hair wet and skin goosing, the magnificent swell of her breasts capped with nipples straining spectacularly beneath that silk, she found me at my kitchen table and asked, "John, do you have any more soap?"After a consciously indecent pause, I cleared my throat and stood, gesturing back down the hall behind her to the guest room. "Sure." In the spare bathroom, I opened a drawer with a collection of wrapped soap bars, castille to a red box of lava. She plucked a bar of inoffensive herbal soap and flashed me a bright, green-eyed smile, "Thanks."In an instant, she peeled the bars wrapper and the green gold robe. A glimpse of her pendulous breasts, a bald vulva, and she was stepping into the shower, damp brunette hair dark against evenly tanned skin. She half turned as she stepped behind the glass wall of the shower, smiled brightly again, the half twist showing off a toned core over her motherly hips to good effect, and dismissed me, "That's all." I allowed myself another indecent pause, watching the older woman slip back beneath the hot rain of the shower, before retreating to my bedroom to text every hookup and notably horny ex I could find in my contacts.Having been teased by a righteous MILF, and then striking out brutally and in a thirty mile radius, I was baffled the next morning when Tom, his hair still wet and coffee mug in hand, standing in my kitchen roughly where his wife had mere hours ago, was begging a bit of patience from me for their renovations. Beth had insisted on replacing every fixture with period items or exacting replicas- which were, now, only cast in a small foundry in Italy, and took weeks to deliver- normally, but this was 2020, and the world was insane. He laughed, saying he'd start chipping in for coffee.The spectre of Beth haunting my guest room for months more twisted something insatiable in me. Both 51, Tom was a great looking guy and his wife was a bombshell. As raucous and horny as their holiday parties tended to be, I was, now, stuck, hoping, my neighbors were swingers, because someone was getting fucked if they kept showing up naked in my house.Naturally, I promised Tom it was no problem, and they were welcome as long as they could stand the hike for a bathroom.I was on my back veranda drinking a stiffly spiked cup of black coffee late that afternoon, enjoying the last of the sunlight, barefoot on the warm deck. After the explicit midnight flirtation and explicit blue balling by my short black book (...lots of theoretical promises next week), I was planning the evening's Beth hunt. What was her angle? Was she just in it for the tease, or was she soliciting more? I wanted her, but I suspected this was a game more about her control of our interactions than the sexuality, given how she had chosen to engage me and flatly turned me away.Tom wandered over, announced they were downing hammers for the day, and headed into the house for a quick shower. The sin-pushing bastard I am, I stuffed a Nicaraguan cigar in his mouth and poured him some scotch when he emerged. Tom was a class act, and I knew- I realized- I wasn't going to go further with Beth unless it was confirmed their marriage was open.There was a flash of color around the fence to Tom's and I excused myself inside to pour another cup of coffee and bourbon. I exited back to the veranda to find Tom bickering with his daughter Lacey. "Johnny shared some of his stash with me, I think you said something similar about your friend Able last year? Right before graduation? When I found you melting into the couch?""Dad, tobacco is awful, they're not the same thing, at all."I started to quip, "Well, ...
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