Cuckarino Neighborino!

Chapter 1: Yeah, lemonade is good.

"Cuckarino Neighborino!"

It was Friday night in the Simpson house and Marge Simpson looked over at the other side of the bed. There Homer was, snoring loudly while Marge put a pillow around her head to try and drown out the noise. It was the fourth night in a row where Homer had been too drunk to make love to her and Marge was restless. She looked out the window to see her widowed neighbor, Ned Flanders, getting into his pajamas to sleep in an empty bed. Often when Marge couldn't sleep and was unsatisfied by her husband, she guiltily would watch Flanders undress for the evening. Every night, like clockwork, he would slip off his Leftorium apron, sweater vest, and tight brown slacks to reveal his chiseled body. Marge never thought a devout Christian could have so much sex appeal, but she was always partial to his perfectly trimmed 70s style mustache.

Her hands traveled down to her light pink panties, closing her eyes and picturing Ned's strong arms holding her down. Sex had always been decent with Homer, but the lazier he got at work, the lazier he became in bed. She felt herself getting angrier at the fact that she had caught Homer jerking off in the bathroom to a Playdude spread of Princess Kashmir and rubbed her swollen clit harder. How dare he roll over every night and have the nerve to jerk off when he could be fucking his wife. She then wondered if Ned ever rubbed one out since he was so religious. She had never seen or heard Flanders and Maude have sex, even after being neighbors for eight years. However, Flanders became Springfield's most suitable bachelor after the death of his wife. He was kind, active in the community, and all around handsome. Like a more god-fearing Tom Selleck. Marge wanted to know if he had the potential to give her what she had been missing. She imagined the possibility of Ned's cock, assuming it was probably huge under his modest clothing. Was it wrong to fantasize about another man with a dead wife? Marge shook off her lewd thoughts and drifted off to sleep.

*****
"Hey, Homer, we missed the bus. Can you drop off me and Lise?" Bart remarked.

"Make your mom do it! I took the day off to go bowling with Lenny and Carl to practice for our tournament."

Marge rolled her eyes and Maggie dumped her bowl of oatmeal on the floor. "Homer, please, I already have errands I need to get done."

"But Marge, the prize is $1000. Think of all the new bowling balls I could buy!"

"Homer, you don't need anymore bowling equipment. I'll take the kids to school but if you win that money you have to promise me you won't blow it on something like that."

Homer pecked Marge on the cheek, wearing a flashy bowling jacket and exited the house. Marge grumbled as she cleaned up Maggie's mess and told the kids to get in the car. "Come on, kids, you're already running late."

The kids argued in the car while Marge tuned them out. At last, Bart and Lisa were Springfield Elementary's problem for the next 6 hours. She drove back home while Maggie fell asleep in her car seat. Marge walked back into the house, Maggie in her arms and laid Maggie back into her crib. Marge sighed and looked over at the sink of dirty dishes. She began washing until she looked up at the window to see Flanders tending to his backyard garden.

Flanders was wiping sweat from his brow as he trimmed his rose bushes, wearing a tight v neck and khaki shorts. It was the least amount of clothing she had ever seen Flanders wear, and she could make out his abs easily under the v neck clinging to his skin. It was particularly hot outside, Marge thought. She stopped scrubbing the dishes to peek at the window again, wondering if he'd eventually throw off his sweat-soaked shirt.

Stop oggling your neighbor, she thought. She stepped away from the window and headed upstairs for a moment of peace. Her bed was unmade and Homer had left his plate of breakfast on his side table for her to clean, but she ignored it. She undressed, throwing her green dress on the floor and laying back on the bed. Even after having three children, her breasts were as perky as ever and she had the ass to match. Homer had no idea how lucky he was. Stupid Homer. Stupid bowling tournament. He never took off work to spend time with her. At least he was gone so she could fuck herself in peace.

She pulled out the toys in her drawer, a suction cup 8-inch dildo and a small vibrator she had secretly bought last month. She rubbed the tip of the jelly cock against her pussy, drenched from sexual frustration. She pretended it was Flanders' rock solid co-

"Whoa!" Marge opened her eyes and saw she had soaked the bed sheets in just a matter of minutes. Was she really that hot for Flanders? She put a hand over her mouth, still stunned at how much she had cum by just thinking about him while she played with herself. She got up, put the toys away and put her dress back on. She walked past Maggie's room to make sure she hadn't woken up and stumbled downstairs to begin her household duties.

Ring! Marge peered through the hole in the door to see Flanders waiting outside. She immediately panicked, wondering if he had somehow seen her masturbating. She opened the door slowly, making sure she was decent and not appearing so frazzled. "Hi, Ned."

"Howdy, neighborino!" Flanders leaned against the door, "I was just wondering if I could borrow you for a favor. You see, I've been planting some new flowers but I need your help with the design. You know, Maude used to do that gardening stuff and I'm afraid if I don't keep her traditions alive, why, my boys will be disappointed."

"Of course, Ned. I'd be happy to help. Let me find some gloves and I'll help you."

***

Marge bent over the flower beds to admire all the plants Maude had once tended to. The Flanders family did have the best garden in Springfield Magazine, and Marge found herself wishing Homer would care more about the appearance of their front yard, instead of leaving empty Duff cans on the lawn. She glanced over at Ned, who's shirt was nearly soaked in sweat from working so hard.

"Maybe you should take a break, Ned."

"Good idea, Marge. How about I whip us up some fresh lemonade?"

They walked into the kitchen, Ned dangerously close to Marge as he started squeezing the lemons into a pitcher. "Wow these lemons sure are juicy."

"Y-yeah." Marge looked at Flanders' khakis, where she could almost make out the size of Ned's holy grail.

Flanders poured a glass for Marge. "Cheers, haha."

"Mhm.." Marge reached for the lemonade, sipping it slowly as she tried not to look directly at Ned.

The lemonade, on the edge of the table, quickly tipped over and onto Marge's dress.

"Oopsie, heh heh." Flanders chuckled. "Uh, why don't we take a rain check on that lemonade and go change. It's almost time to get my boys from school."

"Yeah, the kids'll be home soon..." Marge peered out the window, still no sign of Homer returning from his bowling activities. She got up, not realizing her nipples were poking through the dress after being hit by the ice cold lemonade. Flanders' eyes darted, then he bashfully looked away. "Marge, it's been a pleasure."

Marge sighed and walked back into her house and checked on Maggie. She was still fast asleep.

****