She had urgent needs that her hubby could not fulfill
[This story is the latest in the Shy Widow series of stories, following on from "The Big-Bottomed Lady Upstairs". It involves neighbors of Margaret's and Will's. It has many aspects and could have also been listed under the Fetish, Anal, Exhibitionism, and BDSM categories, among others. It has references to bodily functions and fluids, as well, so if any of that bothers you, I suggest you read no further. All characters in this story are well over 18 years old.]
Bernice Potsdam was increasingly frustrated with the state of her marriage. She had been married to her husband Horace for nearly 30 years and at age 48 she was expecting Menopause's arrival at any moment. She felt like the clock was ticking on her opportunity to have a fulfilling sex-life, but she was hedged in by circumstances.
At 58, Horace was no longer a spring chicken, not that he had ever been one, much less a spring Rooster. He was now on permanent disability, barely mobile, and hardly virile. He felt deep humiliation that he could no longer fulfill his wife's needs and had been desperately searching for a solution that might accommodate both of them. The best that he could come up with was the notion that he might find another man to "take care of business" with Bernice, while he watched them go at it and wanked his half-limp willy.
He had haltingly discussed this notion with Bernice, and she had found it intriguing, albeit not exactly ideal, but it was certainly better than nothing. However, there were serious practical impediments to following through with it.
To begin with, neither Bernice nor Horace felt comfortable with just inviting strange men into sexual encounters in their flat. Certainly, there were all sorts of horny men out there on Tindr, Craigslist, or other social media, eager to have a one-off shag with a mature MILF. But such couplings were well outside of either of their comfort zones. Such risky liaisons could go south really quickly, and they did have their respectability to maintain.
No, if this solution was going to work at all, it required a safer approach, perhaps a cautious proposal to someone in their own apartment complex who might share their desire for privacy and private escapades. Perhaps someone like that couple down the hall who seemed to be in a rather kinky relationship of some sort.
More than once, Bernice had opened their own apartment door a crack and peeked out to find the shy widow darting from her flat to her neighbor's in just a bra and a slip. Bernice, at Horace's urging, had even tiptoed down the hall to the widow's boyfriend's door and listened intently to their carrying ons. Bernie would come back and report what she had heard to Horace, and they would both enjoy a session of mutual wanking. They agreed that their neighbors were their best bet for arranging a naughty session of cuckolding and sex.
After their delightful encounter with Ethel, their upstairs neighbor, Will and Margaret were further attuned to the effect of their noisy sex play on the other tenants in their apartment complex. They tried to keep things discrete, but if noisy play had brought them Ethel, would further noises bring them other playmates as well? Was it possible that the overzealous sense of propriety that seemed to plague the complex's tenants was just a cover for their repressed sexual cravings?
Margaret was about to receive a confirmation of that premise.
Just a day or two later, Margaret heard a knock at her door around tea time. Now, who could this be, she wondered? She had chatted with Ethel the night before and they arranged a second visit for the coming weekend. This was apparently someone else altogether. She went to the door and used the peep hole.
Goodness Gracious! It was yet another neighbor, this one she recognized as that rather nosey woman from a few doors down the hall. She always managed to peek out her door just when Margaret was scurrying down to Will's flat, clad only in her bra and slip as Will insisted she do. Whatever did she want? Margaret began to wonder whether something had indeed shifted in the behavior of their neighbors. Were they all becoming entranced by Will's and her lewd love noises? Well, there was a very direct way to find out. She flipped her door's lock and opened it cautiously.
"Hello? Can I help you?" she queried.
"Sorry to be a bother, M'am. I'm Bernice Potsdam from down the hall. Can I come in and have a private word with you?"
The nervous woman seemed to be highly strung, clutching her hands together and looking pleadingly into Margaret's eyes. Margaret beckoned her in and offered her a seat on the settee.
"Please have a seat Mrs. Potsdam. I'm Margaret Higgins, but please call me Margaret. Can I offer you a refreshing drink, perhaps? It is almost cocktail hour and it would be so relaxing to share a nice Martini together. Allow me a minute or two and we can have a friendly little talk."
Margaret fetched the bottle of Tanqueray from the cupboard in the kitchen and poured six ounces into the glass shaker, adding another ounce of dry vermouth. Several ice cubes followed, and she gave the container a vigorous shaking. She poured the mixture into two crystal martini glasses and added two green pitted olives stuffed with garlic cloves on glass stems into the glasses, accompanied with a dash of olive juice.
"Here you are, my dear. Here's to our friendship. Cin, cin."
The two neighbors raised their Martinis in a toast and each had a sip.
"Oh my!" Bernice exclaimed. "Very nice. I feel much better already."
Margaret beamed at Bernice and gave her an encouraging look.
"What was it you needed to have a word about, my dear? It feels so unusual to receive visits from my neighbors. Everyone seems so private and reserved."
"Oh, Margaret, if I can be so familiar, I find myself in a very awkward position. I suppose that most of us in the building have become quite aware of your intimate love play with your neighbor. The walls are so thin, and you do tend to be so . . . er, loud."
"Oh, dear. You're the second neighbor to approach me about this in just the last few days! I fear we are getting a dreadful reputation. Have the sounds been annoying you? If so, I do apologize!"
Bernice looked away, unable to meet Margaret's eyes. This was so awkward. Could she really continue the conversation? She just had to, she decided. There was no backing out now. She returned her gaze to Margaret's lovely eyes, so artfully made-up, and swallowed hard.
"No, the noises are hardly annoying, Margaret. Rather, they are deeply stimulating to both my husband and me. They make us terribly horny and drippy. But this presents a dilemma. Horace, you see, is an invalid with very limited mobility and rather defective plumbing. His little penis was never very satisfying, even when he was younger and had his health, but now it's practically useless."
Bernice's face was flushed and displayed her mortification at telling these embarrassing personal details to a neighbor she had only just met. She couldn't keep her hands from fidgeting, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in her dress, patting and stroking her large thighs and unconsciously tracing her panty-lines back and forth. She was squirming in her shame and beginning to feel all flowy.
"The best that we can manage is for me to play with myself for him while he wanks his tiny willy. He can manage to get it a bit stiff if I verbally humiliate him about his failure to do his marital duties. As you can imagine, this is hardly satisfactory for either of us, but we were making do until you moved in and all the naughty noises began. After that, our little arrangement just paled by comparison. Horace came up with the notion that I should seek out sex with another man -- one capable of giving me a proper shagging -- and let him watch and wank."
Bernice paused in her awkward confession and took another big sip of her Martini. It was so delicious and relaxing that it was gone before she knew it.
"Oh dear! I certainly wolfed that right down."
"Here, Bernice, let me mix up some reinforcements. I do find that a good dirty Martini helps loosen one's tongue and eases one's inhibitions. I wouldn't mind another myself! Just relax and gather your thoughts. This shouldn't take but a minute or two"
While Margaret returned to the kitchen to concoct another shaker's worth, Bernice pondered what she was about to propose. It was just so shameful and depraved. But the very thought of it made her squirm even more and with Margaret out of the room, she began to rock back and forth, slipping her hand under her dress and fingering herself through her knickers. It just felt so good. Caught up in the moment, listening to the squishy sounds she was making, she didn't notice Margaret's return, shaker in hand.
"Well, that looks like fun, Bernice! Don't stop on my account. Just let me freshen our drinks and then I'll join in. I find it is so lovely for new friends to masturbate together, it is just so intimate. Why, the very first time I visited Will, he insisted I undress and diddle myself while he stroked. It excited me terribly!"
"Oh, Margaret, I don't know what got into me! What must you think of me?" Bernice felt as if she had been caught with her hand in the biscuit jar.
"I think it sounds like you and Horace need some assistance from Will and me. That's what I think. It's the least we can do for making you and the rest of the building put up with our love noises. Here, let me get us a couple of towels that we can put over our seats, and then we can finger ourselves while you tell me what Horace and you propose."
Margaret scurried off for towels and handed one to Bernice. The two excited ladies put them in place.
"My dear, before we sit back down, I suggest we at least remove our dresses and knickers. It makes for a much nicer view of each other and easier access to our twats."
Bernice reached over and picked up her Martini and raised it in a toasting gesture to her new friend, and watched Margaret do the same, then they clinked glasses and took a good sip. Margaret stood and began to disrobe, unbuttoning her chic dress and carefully laying it aside. She raised her slip and brought it up over her head, dropping it on top of the dress. This left her in bra and knickers, and she removed the latter, sliding them over her wide hips and letting them drop to the floor. She stepped out of them and tossed them on top of her other clothes. Finally she unfastened her bra and shrugged it off. Margaret now stood before Bernice in all her natural splendor.
Bernice was unbuttoning her dress as she caught sight of Margaret in the altogether. Her eyes were fixed on her neighbor's lush pubic nest which covered her mound and crept down past her slit as far as her upper inner thighs.
"Oh my! How daring! I admire your natural look, Margaret. You look so lovely and voluptuous. I don't think I look anywhere near as thrilling."
Bernice shed her dress and knickers and revealed her rather round little belly. Her pubes were kind of wispy and sparse, dark brown like her carefully coiffed head of hair, but the threads of grey mixed into her pubes revealed that her hairdresser was carefully maintaining her youthful appearance in what the public could see. She, too, decided to shed her bra, which once removed, sent her titties tumbling. They were substantial, but they had become what men called "saggers", at least according to Horace. Their large pink nipples pointed down, nestling up against her belly. Still, her breasts were quite soft and very sensitive, and she was certain that the right man could bring them alive to their mutual pleasure. She certainly wouldn't mind a good manhandling.
"Please, Bernice, no need to run yourself down. You look like a nice plump bundle of fun who it would be delightful to play with. Let's sit ourselves back and get into a nice flowy mood as you describe your hopes for our helping you out."
As the two ladies languidly fingered themselves and tweaked their hardened nipples, Bernice described the scenario that Horace had discussed with her. He hoped that Will -- and Margaret, if she was willing -- might tease and entice Bernice into all sorts of lewd postures and activities, culminating in her complete sexual satisfaction. That Horace's own need for humiliation and various fetishes might be considered and brought into play. In short, he pictured a risque encounter that successfully addressed everyone's peculiar needs and did not go "too far", with Bernice being able to set her own limits for just how far she wanted to go.
As Margaret fondled her squishy bits and observed Bernice doing the same, she tried to picture just how this might work. Nothing would happen, of course, without Master's explicit approval and participation, and in the regular course of things, he much preferred to be calling the shots. He was all too aware of the tendency of some subs to want to "top from the bottom", to want to control events from behind a veneer of submission. Knowing Will as well as she did by now, she wondered if Horace wasn't exhibiting such tendencies, which might be a "deal-breaker" as far as Master was concerned. She would just have to run it all by him and see what he decided.
"Bernice, thank you for your explanation. I think I understand just what Horace has been thinking. I'll discuss it with Master and see what he decides. It is all ultimately up to him. I know that both you and Horace are quite needful, and that is certainly a consideration. But Master has the final say, and if he decides "no", that will be that. Please be patient, and don't get your hopes up too much. I may have been too rash in implying that we were almost obligated to help you. Master may not see it that way at all. Do you understand?"
A look of uncertainty and worry washed across Bernice's face, and she ceased her fervid fingering. She looked at Margaret with an expression of near panic, as if she had let herself be led into a dreamworld of easy solutions, led on by the lubricity of two divine Martinis. She came back down to earth with a decided thump.
Good God, what was she thinking? Letting herself be talked into removing her clothes and mutually masturbating with her kinky neighbor? For a short while there, it had all looked so easy, that she'd be able to report back to Horace with a solution to their problems. But, alas, nothing was ever that easy. All she could tell Horace was that they had to be patient and wait.
"Margaret, I think I understand. I realize that Horace and I are asking an awful lot of you and Will, and you need to carefully think it over. Here is my phone number and I hope you will call us when your Master has made his decision."
"Thank you, Bernice. Don't give up hope. I think this is still quite possible, but I can't speak for Will. It was very nice to make your acquaintance, and I am touched that you were willing to discuss such sensitive details of your marriage with me. Master and I will keep your confidence, in any event. And no matter the outcome, I would like to consider you a friend and have us pay each other visits now and then."
The two neighbors hastily dressed and gave each other a little hug. It had been a rather strange and awkward afternoon and they both felt a little let down. But tomorrow was another day. It might still all work out.
It wasn't until late afternoon the following day that Margaret had the opportunity to speak with Will. He had been on a writing streak, inspired in part by Ethel's recent initiation, and he claimed some "self time" to try to finish his latest story for Littersmutica. Finally about tea time, he rang up Margaret and invited her over to his flat for a cuppa and a catch-up. She knocked at his door clad only in her bra and slip, the casual "at home" attire that he often had her don for her visits.
"There you are, my pet. Do come in and have a cuppa. I've just about written my brains out; over ten thousand words in two days! Time for a break. So, what have you been up to, my dear? Did I hear you have another visitor yesterday? You seem to have suddenly become the destination of choice in this building! Who was it this time?"
"Oh, Master, you'll never believe it! It was that rather nosey lady just down the hall from us, you know the one who keeps peeking out of her door right when I am going to visit you?"
"Yes, indeed, a snoop and a pest, I dare say. Why, at one point a few days ago when Ethel was here with us, I thought I heard a bit of noise outside the door and went and checked the peep-hole and there she was, standing very close with her ear nearly to the door, just listening. I almost pulled the door open to catch her in the act, but thought better of it. What did she have to say for herself?"
"Well, Sir, she had a rather extraordinary proposal to make on behalf of her husband and her. They're the Potsdams, Bernice and Horace, and he's an invalid."
"Oh, yes. I see her sometimes pushing him around in a wheel chair. A rather pathetic chap, I must say. What exactly does she propose?"
"Well, I think it is more his idea than hers, though she seemed willing enough. Since he is unable to sexually service her in any meaningful way, he proposes that you be his surrogate and give her a good shagging and he be allowed to watch and wank himself."
"Oh good grief! One of those damn cuckold fellows. What will it be next? An adult baby? Well, what was she like? Did she strike you as at all attractive? I do find her snooping tendencies rather off-putting."
"So do I, Sir, though I must admit that we give not only her, but the whole building, rather a lot to snoop about. She did mention that our sex play noises were making her and Horace quite needful.
"When she visited yesterday, I mixed up some Martinis as she seemed quite nervous and high strung. It's amazing what even one of those will do. While I was out of the room, she started playing with herself and got so into it that she didn't notice my return. So, I suggested that we both disrobe and enjoy a nice little diddle together."
"You mischievous imp! Was she willing?"
"She certainly was, and we got quite into it while we were discussing Horace's proposal. She was putting her own looks down, but I told her that she looked like 'a nice plump bundle of fun,' and she did, Sir. She has a nice little belly and nice thick thighs, and her bum is quite lovely. Oh, and her titties are rather large, though she called them 'saggers'."
"We like saggers around here, do we not? What I can't abide are ballooney fake knockers that seem to defy gravity. I'll take a good helping of droopiness any day. Anyway, so how did things end up?"
"I did feel obliged to tell her that I couldn't promise anything for sure, and that you had the final say in the matter. That brought our chat to a rather abrupt conclusion. I'm afraid that I initially gave her the impression that we'd be happy to help them in some way, so when I mentioned the decision was really up to you, I think she felt a bit let down. I told her that they just had to be patient until you made up your mind. So, that's where it stands. Sorry, Sir, if I kind of bungled it."
"No, no, my pet, you did fine under the circumstances. I do find the proposal intriguing, though the people are a bit trying. But that should make it all the more enjoyable to rub in the humiliation. We will need to make it very clear that this will only happen on our terms. The usual rules apply. They can take it or leave it!"
Early that evening, Margaret gave Bernice a call to tell her of Master's decision.
"Bernice, you can relax. I have some good news for you. Master and I discussed your proposal and he decided that we will help you out. We do have certain rules that you must agree to, however. You might want to jot these down to share them with Horace."