LAYING PIPE: part 2 - John continued finding the depths of his neighbors. By Bitterjohnzim.  Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Beth crossed the dark guestroom and slapped me, snapping her hand across my left ear and cheek. I reeled away, half-falling to the bed. I caught her second swing, outlined, now, by the exterior lights. “Beth!” I exclaimed and she stopped straining to strike me. “What the hell are you doing?” Initially, she was silent, struggling to pull her arm from my hand. We both heard the low drone of the shower in the bathroom and she hissed at me, “You were mine.” I pushed her away and flipped the light answitch by the veranda door. A lamp on either side of the bed flickered to life. In the low light of the guestroom, I knew how I would look, naked, muscular and hairy, cock still slick from congress with her daughter. Beth, a gorgeous brunette, was flush, her face red and the magnificent swell of her breasts heaving beneath a fitting tan top. Dark skinny jeans cupped her curves and legs, the outfit terminating functionally in dark tennis shoes “You’re Tom’s.” I stated simply, laying a calming hand on the woman’s shoulder. A flash in her eyes- she was honestly angry, “We have an arrangement. Lacey, obviously, isn’t a fucking part of it.” Shit. They were in an open marriage. She’d just been fucking around teasing me, before. Uh, until I put it to their daughter. “Beth, she’s an adult, we had some fun, there’s no reason to be tense, I’m just your friend.” I defended myself. Oh, man, that was the wrong thing to say. Beth jerked, and snagged my wavering dick. Twisting sharply, she demanded, “How are you my friend? We trusted you as a neighbor, I, might, have wanted to screw you, and I catch you fucking my daughter? Is that what friends do?” A moment after the sudden pain started, I wrapped a thick hand around Beth’s throat and pushed her onto the bed. Her hand tightened until I squeezed her neck and both of her hands flew to my grip. The hot surge of adrenaline had me hard, and I momentarily felt the coarse denim of Beth’s jeans beneath my cock. I was, now, choking a woman who had twisted my dick- after finding me nutting her daughter. What the fuck is my life? I pressed Beth into the bedding and she made, the single horniest noise I’ve ever heard from a woman. Somewhere between a groan and a purr, she glared at me through lusty eyes. Her breathing was fast and straining. Her flushed cheeks and expression rattled a memory of a deeply submissive former partner. I suddenly suspected Beth had been out on the twilight veranda longer than her surging, violent response implied. So, I did something insane. I didn’t release her throat, but I did wrench her jeans down with my free hand. They slipped down her wide hips easily. The top buttons of her fly had been undone beneath the edge of her shirt. Beneath a tiny, lacey, tan thong, which peeled over her perfectly fat ass. As I pulled her dark skinny jeans to her knees. The weird declaration of ownership over me, the teasing, the disheveled jeans, and uncharacteristic transition to physical violence, the absurd intimacy of having sought to punish my statement by grabbing my cock, her body wavered between fury and lust; was utterly betrayed by the musk of her ardor and dripping mess of her bald pussy. Wordlessly; thoughtlessly, really; I stepped to the soft, exposed curve of her ass and ran the stone column of my erection over her cleft and clit. Her breath caught, her hands on my arm holding her by the throat drove long, perfectly manicured nails into my skin. I twisted my other hand in the knot of garments I held at her calves, soles of her tennis shoes held heavenward, restraining her entirely except for her hands. I pressed her legs back until her naked thighs were against her cream shirt, and her sopping pussy and ass were hoisted between us. Her eyes widened and I shifted her until my cock matched the entrance of her vulva. And, then, I pushed. Her body resisted, t