My Neighbor's Husband

Thus, the divorce proceedings. My wife initiated them about six months ago. It was bad timing because we’d put an offer in on a house in the burbs by then, and the offer was accepted at around the same time the divorce was initiated. But what can you do? Some things just aren’t mean to be. As a result, we moved to this homey suburb, knowing we were getting a divorce. Frankly, I was beaten down at that point. It was easier to go with the flow, and I honestly didn’t care that much anymore. As a result, we’ve never occupied the same sleeping space in this house. Instead, I moved straight into the guest bedroom while Amelia took the larger master. No one was crying any crocodile tears.

So yes, I suppose we’re divorced now despite living in the same house. With a satisfied smile, Amelia gathers the papers and shuffles them into a neat pile on the table.

“Thanks Dane. I’m sad about this too, but you just have to go where life takes you right? I’ll be out of your hair by next week, I promise. You’ll have this place to yourself.”

I lift an eyebrow at her. This was news to me.

“Oh really? Where are you going?”

My ex-wife goes red and yanks the tie on her silk robe even tighter.

“There’s some faculty housing on campus,” she lies while biting her lip. “I’m going to stay there.”

Yeah, right. It’s more like she’s going to move straight into Professor Gerry’s bedroom. Well, good riddance. At this point, I was completely done with the cold-hearted bitch.

“Great,” I say carelessly. “I’ll see you around then,” I utter over my shoulder while stalking back to my room.

Amelia doesn’t even say anything. She merely shrugs and goes back to her room as well, probably to pack her stuff.

Once I’m alone in the darkness of my room, I sit on the bed and let my shoulders slump. Fuck. That was much-needed, but it still doesn’t make things any easier. A divorce is a divorce, and I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d be divorced at thirty. I thought I’d have two kids by now, with a loving wife by my side, as well as a dog and a cat prancing around the house. What the hell went wrong?

But then, my mind whirs and a small smile creeps onto my face. There was that girl from our neighborhood who’s been giving me the hairy eyeball. Okay, maybe “hairy eyeball” isn’t the right way to describe it. More like she’s been staring at me like I’m a cool drink of water that she desperately needs after walking fifty miles through the desert. She’s cute and round, with a big bottom and even bigger breasts. Even more, I caught her looking through the window as I pounded Amelia for the final time, and the new girl liked what she saw.

Maybe with my divorce, it’s time to get to know this mystery girl. After all, I’m a single man now, and as free as a bird. The Ice Queen is gone, and I’d like to meet a curvy, gorgeous girl who’s warm, wet, and willing.

3

Margot

It’s the night of our neighborhood block party, and I check my appearance in my mirror nervously. Oh my god, are Dane and Amelia Jones going to be there? Of course they are. This is their official introduction to the neighborhood after moving in, so they’ll probably be the center of attention, come to think of it.

Plus, I know that Dane saw me making love to his wife. Okay, making love probably isn’t the right expression given that what I saw was filthy and nasty in all the right ways. But still, I loved it. In fact, I was a little jealous that it was that skinny blonde getting the pound and not me. I wish it were me, although I’ve never done a headstand in my life.

But no matter. Dane Jones will be there, and there will probably be no way for me to avoid him. If he brings it up, I’m going to have to pretend like I have no idea what he’s talking about, and laugh it off as a mistake. At the very least, I can look pretty while I’m doing that.

I survey myself in the mirror. These jeans hug my butt and squeeze it in, although there’s no way my bottom will ever look small. The curves are round and huge, but at least the tight material also emphasizes my small hips. My boobs are positioned in a purple scoopneck tee that skims my curves without being overly suggestive. They too are gigantic, but what’s a girl to do? I’ve considered breast reduction surgery before, but always decided against it. Elective surgery is scary to me because who wants to go under the knife sheerly for aesthetic purposes? I’ve never had back pains or anything like that, and to be honest, my big boobs get me a lot of male attention sometimes.