NE 1 - Meeting A Neighbor's Needs Page 3
How could he know about my curiosity? That I’d imagined purchasing one of the conical plugs and inserting it ever since my visit to the adult toy store? Even as the thoughts spun through my aroused mind, he pulled free and held himself propped over me. I watched as he reached over my clenched hands to slide the drawer of the nightstand open. His eyes searched mine, looking for a hint of refusal or hesitation. The rustling of paper and items was loud in the still room as he gathered what he needed, but the heat of his cock, moist against my belly, distracted me. Moving back over me, the stroke of his skin against mine had me arching closer, nipping at his whiskered chin, and drawing a grin at the playful bite, before his expression grew serious again.
Rising over me, he held my gaze for a moment before one warm hand settled on my belly. “Roll over.” He gave the command in a quiet, even tone, but the unspoken request for 20 Qwillia Rain
trust filled both words. This was where I either passed or failed. Give him my trust, or walk away.
Inside, I knew what he intended, knew that following his instructions was tantamount to giving my consent. And I wanted to. I was curious to experience the sensation of his cock sliding into the virgin depths of my ass. Holding his gaze, I tried to silently communicate the conflicting thoughts going through my mind, but nothing in his steady gaze betrayed his emotions; he merely watched.
Turning belly-down on the bed, I kept my arms raised above my head, hands fisted in the silky sheets. Using only his hands to direct me, he positioned my knees under me so my butt was lifted, accessible.
I could hear the cap slip free of whatever he’d taken from the nightstand drawer. From my awkward position, I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder to see what he was doing, but against the spread cheeks of my butt I felt a cold, jellylike substance drizzle onto the tight opening of my anus.
His fingers worked the gel around my back entrance, the cool slick, substance easing any pain his first attempt had created.
“You’ve never done this before, have you, babe?” His finger dipped into the tight channel, opening it further.
Again I felt the thick gel, only this time I could feel it slip inside. His finger worked its way deeper and deeper, spreading the jelly, coating the inside of my ass. His cock sank into my wet pussy, rebuilding the arousal that had dimmed with the sharp sting.
Working his length in and out, making each stroke match the advance and retreat of his finger in my ass, my breath hitched as he added a second, and then a third, digit to his explorations. I couldn’t protest. I could barely think by that time. The bedsprings squeaked in protest at each forceful thrust of his cock and the rocking of my body beneath his attentions. Another climax was welling up from inside. My thighs tingled. The spring in my Meeting a Neighbor’s Needs
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lower belly tightened more and more -- then it broke free. I screamed as my orgasm rolled over me in intense waves.
And I screamed again, in surprised arousal, as George slipped his thick cock free of my pussy and pressed it into my anus. The slick gel he’d applied eased his path, and my spasms of completion drew his shaft deeper with every contraction.
“I’ve never had a virgin.” He rocked his hips against me, stroking the sensitive walls, coaxing them to let him move deeper. “You’ll like it, baby,” he rasped, bracing one palm between my shoulder blades while three fingers, still damp with jelly, sank into my pussy.
He worked them expertly, applying the residual goo to the pulsing walls, sending a third climax spiraling through my system as the cold liquid met hot flesh.
Had I known the sensations a thick cock up my ass would bring, I probably would have tried it with one of my previous lovers. Feeling him stretch the confines, press against the walls as he introduced my body to anal sex, had my heart slamming against my chest.
Fingers twisted in the sheets, I screamed into the covers, barely recognizing my own voice as I begged him to fuck me harder; go deeper. Through the thin barrier of flesh, I could feel his fingers and cock stroking against one another, searching for and finding the perfect spots to rub in order to spiral my orgasm higher.
Long minutes later, when I was nearly insensate from the fucking, George reached his own climax. The flex of his hips against my ass, the pulse of his release, captured by the latex condom, warmed the fluttering muscles in my rectum, before he eased his body over mine and rolled us onto our sides.
After he pulled free to dispose of the condom and retrieve a damp washcloth to wipe away the sticky residue of my climax and the lube, I expected George to help me into my robe and see me to the door. He didn’t. Unlike our past encounters, he tugged the covers over our cooling bodies, wrapped his arms around me so my breasts nestled in the damp mat of curls on his chest, and stroked his hands over my back. Lifting my top thigh over his hip, 22 Qwillia Rain
he slipped his semiaroused cock inside, making me gasp at the sensual feel of his naked heat filling me.
One hand settled on my ass, holding me close as he met my shocked gaze. “Okay, baby?”
There was a seeking of permission and a reassurance that my trust wasn’t unfounded in those two softly spoken words.
I nodded. “Okay.”
Beard stubble caught on my tangled hair as his cheek settled against my crown and my nose nuzzled his neck, drawing in his scent as we drifted off to sleep.
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Chapter Three
After my sneak attack at his apartment, George developed a steady habit of attending my needs on a regular basis. I never knew when to expect him, but on occasion I would wake to find him slipping into my hot, wet pussy, a roguish grin lifting his lips as I pulsed in climax around his penis. Afterward, as we had the night I surprised him, he’d cuddle me close and let me ease into sleep, his cock naked and snug within me.
One evening, after a quiet dinner at his apartment, George accompanied me to a bookstore.
Unlike the one where I’d purchased my toy, this was a huge, freestanding bookstore that also carried music and videotapes for sale. As we entered, I couldn’t help but notice an attractive young man ahead of us on his way in. I followed his progress across the entry and up the stairs to the second floor, where the music area was located.
George must have noticed because his eyes twinkled in amusement when I turned to smile at him. I was surprised at the lack of possessiveness in his gaze, but pleased that he understood I was merely admiring an attractive man, not looking for another lover.
Bypassing my usual genres of interest, I let George draw me upstairs. Tucked away in a dim area at the far end of the store was the erotica section. Shelves jutted out from the wall, 24 Qwillia Rain
creating a private little corner. The man I’d noticed earlier looked up from the plain black book he was perusing and met my eye.
He was attractive, close to George in height, and probably no younger than twenty and no older than twenty-five or -six, but definitely younger than me. Sensuous lips curved up in a sheepish grin as he slipped the book back onto the shelf and moved to another section.
Again I watched the tight-fitting jeans clearly delineating a fit physique before turning my attention back to George.
The gleam was brighter in his eye as he smiled at me.
He selected a book and handed it to me as we turned our backs to the rest of the store and faced the shelves. Stepping behind me, George wrapped his arms around me and opened the book, his warm, calloused hands cupping mine. Thumbing through the novel, I read the graphically detailed sexual exploits of a fictitious English nobleman of the nineteenth century. The author described, in detail, the various positions and forms of sexual pleasure experienced by the hero.
Each titillating account worked to arouse me. From the feel of his hardening length against my hip, George was equally interested. His hands slipped away from mine to settle on my waist, stroking and massaging my hips and belly while his chin rested on my shoulder.
As I came to a pa
rticularly long passage, I felt George’s fingers ease beneath my skirt and slide into my panties. Against the silk of my tank top, my nipples hardened. The words blurred on the page as he slipped two blunt-tipped fingers into my pussy. He worked his magic until my thighs quivered and I could no longer hold the book.
“George,” I whispered, terrified he would bring me to climax right there. If he did, my cries would draw the attention of the few patrons browsing on the second floor to our little hideaway. From the corner of my eye, I spotted the man again. This time his eyes were riveted to me, and I could tell by his keen look his awareness of just where George’s hand was. “Don’t,” I begged, helpless to look away from the stranger. “I can’t, not here!”
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George slipped his fingers free, trailing them lightly through the curls between my thighs as he leaned forward and replied, “Go to the ladies’ room, into the handicapped stall, and take off your panties. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
On shaking legs, I set aside the book and went downstairs. I did as George said and made it to the ladies’ room, which was blessedly empty. Not too much of a surprise, since it was nearing midnight and the store would be closing soon. I entered the handicapped stall like he’d told me and bent to slip my panties off.
Before the allotted five minutes was up, I heard the door open. I held my breath, thinking it had to be another female patron. Distracted, I fumbled my hold on the delicate silk, and the dratted thong tangled around the heel of my pumps.
Then my stall door eased open. Bent over, I was trying to slide the silk over my shoe when I heard the distinctive rasp of a zipper and the adjusting of cloth. I pictured how I must look and nearly groaned. My bare butt was in the air, one hand gripping the brushed-nickel rail bolted to the wall, the other somewhere near my ankle.
The door lock snicked shut just seconds before a stranger’s cock slid into me. I knew instantly it wasn’t George because this man wasn’t thick enough. If it was possible, though, he felt longer than George. I hastily grabbed the other support bar to keep from toppling face first into the toilet as the man worked his length deeper into me.
“He told me,” a husky voice rasped over my shoulder, “to say ‘George sent me.’” He pumped rhythmically into me, his quiet moans echoing with mine in the tiny stall.
The initial instinct to reject his touch was stifled at his words. George had sent this stranger to fuck me. Part of my brain was stymied, but another howled in anticipation as the man’s cock filled my pussy with a heavy thrust. It was my fantasy come to life. Something I’d dreamt of, but never expected a lover to fulfill.
Then he pulled out, still hard. My body pulsed in protest, but not for long. Focusing on the feral need to fuck, I waited. The man was as tall as George and just as strong. His muscles 26 Qwillia Rain
were the sleek, lean ropes of a marathoner or swimmer. He easily lifted and positioned me on the edge of the cold rail.
I gasped as the cool metal touched the heated flesh of my bottom, but I didn’t have long to wait for my new lover’s return.
He easily detached my panties from my shoe and stroked the silk over his glistening, condom-covered penis. Tucking the dampened fabric into his pocket, he stepped between my thighs, pulled my arms free of my tank top, and bared my naked breasts. A salacious grin lifted his lips as he maneuvered his cock between the moist petals of flesh guarding the entrance to my body.
The stranger from the second floor eased his heated shaft up and down, then over the tight kernel of nerves buried in my wet folds. His grin lifted only one side of his mouth as I bit my lip to stifle the need to order him to fuck me. My thighs were draped over his arms, the backs of my knees nestled in the crooks of his elbows. Thrilled by the sensual nature of this stranger, I lifted a breast, its tip tight and wanting, to his descending lips.
He took it, licked and lapped at the nubbin for long moments before nibbling with delicate teeth at the puckered flesh. As I raised my hands to grip the metal wall above and behind me, he braced his hands on the bar at my hips, slipped his engorged staff into my waiting depths, and devoured my breast like a starving man. His hips slammed into me, filling my empty pussy with the long, hot cock.
“How…could…he…” He panted with each measured thrust. “…share…you?
You’re…so…fucking…hot…and …wet!” he exclaimed, shifting his attention to my other breast.
The rhythmic thud of our bodies against the hollow metal walls sent echoing pulses of arousal through my body. This man was good. He could get me as hot and wet as George in only moments.
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“What’s…yes, there, baby…your…harder !…your name?” I gasped, leaning down to nibble at the stubble-roughened jaw. Sweat beaded along my spine as he worked his hips in tiny circles, leaving off the thrusting, to stimulate other, more sensitive nerves within me. I released the wall to slip my hands between us, drawing his lips back to the first breast I’d offered him and then slipping down to where our bodies meshed. Though I seemed filled beyond capacity with him, I was surprised to find still more of him waiting to enter the tight passage of my body.
“All of it,” I demanded, tightening my legs and slipping my hands beneath his jeans to grip his muscular flanks. The sinews beneath my fingertips corded even tighter as the last two inches of his shaft sank home, filling me beyond my imagination.
“Oooohhhhh! Yessss, faster…baby, faster !” I barely recognized my own voice as I urged his forceful penetration. Poised on the razor edge of climax, I tumbled into the brilliant vortex when the stranger’s fingers pressed the tight bead of nerves above the joining of our bodies. Dimly, I recognized the spasms racking the slender frame of the stranger as a sign of his orgasm.
My hold grew lax; his shaft went flaccid, simplifying the separation of our bodies. With a last sip at my dampened nipples, he eased my silk top back into place, used some toilet paper to dry the juices spilled by my arousal, and disposed of the condom. Pulling my panties from his pocket, I dried the residue of his passion from his filling cock, slipped the crimson silk beneath the hot sac recently tucked back into place within his jeans, adjusted, and replaced his clothing. As I pulled the tab of his zipper into place, I leaned up and asked again, my lips teasing his, “What’s your name?”
Slipping his tongue into my mouth, he smoothed his thumbs over my sensitive nipples, pulled back, and answered, “Gideon. What’s yours?”
“Gina.”
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Without another word, we unlocked the stall and stepped into the empty bathroom as an announcement blared the closing of the store. We washed our hands and used the broad mirror to make final adjustments to our clothing, and then Gideon slipped from the restroom ahead of me, after a quick glance to assure himself the coast was clear. Moving slowly, my thoughts spinning at what I had done, what George had initiated, I followed.
George was shaking Gideon’s hand, a genial smile lifting his lips. With a last glance at me over his shoulder, Gideon departed and George moved toward me.
His hand stroked a curl away from my cheek and hooked it behind my ear. Tucking his head into the curve of my throat, he inhaled deeply.
Heat filled my cheeks as I realized the smell of sweat and sex clung to my skin and clothes. Taking a delicate whiff myself, I realized the scent was different from the one I enjoyed after George and I made love.
It was the faintly acrid odor of latex from Gideon’s condom blended with a youthful fragrance of candied apple, nowhere near as arousing or intoxicating as the musk I associated with George. Despite the rolling eyes and obvious stance of the clerk near the door, I asked, needing to know, “Why?”
Lifting his head, George searched my face as if trying to determine my mood. Pulling me close, he cupped my jaw with one hand, while the other warmed the curve of my shoulder, then skimmed downward to the dip at my waist, stopping at the base of my spin
e.
“To see if you glow.”
“Glow?” I knew my expression reflected my confusion based on the grin and nod he gave me.
“Umm humm.” Nuzzling his cheek against mine, he explained in a whisper, “After we fuck, your whole body shimmers, like Christmas tree lights in a dark room. You vibrate with life and energy. I get hard just watching you.”
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“So you sent a stranger to screw me?” I wasn’t sure I believed him about what I looked like. None of my other lovers had ever mentioned it. But then again, none of my other lovers were George.
Meeting my eyes, he nodded. No sign of contrition, remorse, or apology showed in his eyes. Instead, they sparkled with arousal, the green darkening at the edges. “Yeah. The night I ran off Bob” -- his eyes rolled up with amusement and he whuffed a short chuckle -- “there wasn’t any shine. You had the same look I’d seen in the hallway earlier. After so many nights together, I was curious. I wanted to see if the vibrancy was there with someone you were instantly attracted to.”
I waited, reasoning through his answer. Despite my initial unease, I had to admit the encounter with Gideon had been stimulating. My body still hummed from his attentions, not in the same way George could wind me up, but the sensations were similar. “And do I? Glow, I mean?”
“Not as bright as when I’ve tired you out, but yeah.” He nodded, seemingly pleased with himself and his experiment. “You’re glowing, baby.” The teasing glint in his eye returned. “Did you like my surprise?”
I shrugged, somehow knowing that if he were aware of just how much the encounter had aroused and confused me, George would be determined to discuss, right there, every nuance of my feelings. Over his shoulder, I spotted the clerks looking pointedly at their watches and decided to avoid giving a yes or no answer. Instead, I grinned. “Very naughty, darling. Very, very naughty.”
George tucked me under his arm, his smile wicked, hand stroking my hip, and we left the store with the book I’d been perusing before my restroom break.