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Marie recognized the man at her door. He was tall, with sandy hair and broad shoulders. He wore a sweaty T-shirt and cargo shorts. About her age—mid forties. His legs were hard and muscular, like a long-distance runner. Her pussy began to tingle. "Hi."

"Yeah." He seemed embarrassed. "I'm, uh, Forrest. My wife and I just moved in across the street? But . . ."

He stopped. Marie leaned against the doorway. She was wearing shorts and a tight T-shirt. She saw Forrest checking out her body. Her legs, her big tits. She smiled.

"I'm Marie." She held out a hand. "I saw you moving in. What do you guys need?"

He smiled. "It's just me. My wife's still back in New York. But the thing is, our water's not working, and I really need to wash up."

"Sure." Marie smiled. "Come on in."

* * *

Marie was desperately horny. She'd seduced two of her son's young friends, and even his girlfriend, but that was weeks ago. Her son Michael had surprised her while she was having sex with Terry and ...

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