Laying Pipe: Part 1 - A teasing MILF taunts the neighbor too long, so her daughter services the need. By BitterJohnZim. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. My name is Johnny. I’m a retired pipelayer and 8 years divorced. 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 estate. According to Tom, half the plumbing leaked and the other half was led, 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 patio doors of a guest room unlocked for their free use. The direct access exterior door of the guest bedroom allowed them to use the private bathroom and the big walk-in shower. 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 took off the green gold robe; revealing her pendulous breasts, a shaved bald vulva, and she was stepping into the shower, damp brunette hair dark against whole-body, tanned skin. She half turned as she stepped behind the glass wall of the shower, smiled brightly again to me, the half twist showing off a toned core over her motherly hips to good effect, and then dismissed me, “That’s all.” I allowed myself another indecent pause, watching the mature naked full-figured 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 repeatedly and deliberately 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 the covid era of 2020, and the world was insane. He laughed, saying he’d start chipping in for coffee. The specter of Beth haunting my guest room for months more twisted something insatiable in me. Both of them were 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 patio drinking a stiffly spiked cup of black coffee late that afternoon, enjoying the last of the sunlight, barefo
