Love Thy Neighbor Pt. 01

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Lana meets her new next-door neighbor...
2.8k words
4.2
71.5k
43

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 05/10/2017
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Maria24
Maria24
662 Followers

Lana woke up in a foul mood for the fourth morning in a row; she brewed some coffee and lit a cigarette. She had barely slept through the night, thanks to the new, noisy neighbor and his loud screaming bimbo. For the entire past week, the new neighbor—who remained a faceless presence to Lana—was drilling holes on the walls and hammering furniture together in the morning and fucking the last remnants of his girlfriend's brain off in the night.

She took a sip of her black, fresh coffee, lit another cigarette; her mouth was flooded with the bad taste of sleeplessness and no amount of cold water could wash it away; she wished they—her husband and she—could go on a long trip, away from the noisy neighbor, who, in less than a week, had turned their peaceful and idyllic apartment into an infernal nightmare, but, her husband, Fred, was too busy at work.

She finished her first cup of coffee, refilled it, and sat heavily on the couch, to watch television; there was nothing else to do, after all. She had tried, quite hard, to find a job—even a bad-paying one would have sufficed as long as it allowed her to kill some time—but, a recession job market is not very kind to a 38-year old unqualified woman, who got pregnant as a high-school senior and devoted her youth in raising her child.

It was only when Trish, her daughter, left home she was forced to face the idleness of the daily routine, which up until then had been rewarding. Moping around the house alone all day long—and often during entire weekends, when Fred was off to some business trip—was becoming tedious and mundane; she had no way, however, to escape it; no matter how hard she tried she was stuck and, hence, she was doing all she could best to embrace her situation.

The whole apartment shook, as if under an earthquake, when the drilling commenced next door; it was too loud and close. The neighbor was working on the wall separating the two apartments.

"Jesus," she whispered, rubbed her throbbing forehead. "How many paintings does this guy have?" She wondered loudly, secretly hoping he'd hear her and stop.

He didn't; whether he ignored her, or just didn't hear her, she couldn't tell. What she, on the other hand, could tell was that it was turning unbearable; the first couple of days she was understanding; moving in a new place can be rough. But, she could not comprehend why he was not yet finished. Five days is too long a time for setting up a new apartment, it seemed to her.

When she got up and threw a bathrobe over her short satin nightgown, it was both frustration and curiosity that drove her. She was ready to get into a fight with the neighbor, but, she couldn't help but wonder about both his apartment and its set-up, as well as for seeing the perpetrators of those long fucking sessions that had haunted her nightly thoughts—by both disturbing and exciting her.

She rang the bell and only afterwards did she feel bad for not carrying a welcoming gift, or at least having an excuse for the abrupt visit; despite the anger boiling her blood, she could not overcome her natural disposition towards proper manners.

"Yeah?" The door was opened roughly by an angry, tall man; Lana was rendered speechless, her eyes observing the robust, muscular naked upper body of her noisy neighbor. She moved her glare rapidly along his exposed veins, the upper arms that seemed to be of the same size as her thin-framed torso. "Can I help you?" He asked with irritation.

"Huh?" She muttered, then slowly began regaining her composure. "Yes, I'm...your neighbor, actually. Lana," she extended her hand hesitantly.

"Eric," his hand swallowed hers in a gentle, yet stern, shake.

"I've just realized we haven't met yet, and, given we're next-door neighbors..."

"Ah-hum," he nodded. "I was planning on coming by to introduce myself, but, got caught with work and setting the place up...I was gonna come by, though," he smiled, clearly having eased up. "By the way, I'm sorry for any disturbance, I..." he cleared his throat. "It's taking far too long and...had a lot of things, too, so..."

"It's alright, it's perfectly understandable," she fired quickly, her glance dropping momentarily southwards, to his short boxers. "I guess, I better let you go back to work, huh?" She took a step backwards, her eyes still fixed on him.

"No, it's..." he said hastily. "If you want, you can come inside for a cup of coffee, or something...could use the break. If you're not busy, that is."

"Sure, I'd like that," she nodded and a bright smile appeared on her face.

It was only, when she had stepped inside the apartment and the door was closed behind her, she realized the way she was dressed. What will he think, if I suddenly leave, to change? she thought worrisomely, then took a seat at the small wooden kitchen table.

He boiled some water and poured them both a cup of instant coffee; he lit a cigarette and she took his offer for one. He lit his, then hers; she leaned back on the chair, crossed her legs, suddenly causing the robe to be lifted, revealing the whole length of her leg.

She gave him a reassuring, warm smile, when his eyes momentarily popped open at the sight, then he quickly averted his gaze seemingly embarrassed.

"So, what do you do?" She asked with a wide smile and fire burning in her heart; she readjusted her robe, covering up her thigh, but, it slowly slid back down.

"I'm a gym teacher," he replied, instinctively stealing glimpses of her naked leg. "I used to work at a school out in the country, but...got a great offer for a private school around here. So..." he shrugged.

"Better pay, huh?" She winked at him.

"Yeah, and..." he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, had a drag from his cigarette. "Well, I've missed the big city; not much to do in a small village."

"Must have been nice, though; living out in the countryside."

"Sure, it was," he agreed. "Peaceful, calm, fresh air, nature all around you; but, it gets boring, especially, when you're young and restless," his smile widened, became more meaningful.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty six," he said.

"You live alone?" She looked around, trying to discern signs of a woman's presence in the apartment; there was none, and none has emerged from the other rooms, either.

"Yes," he said. "I'm single at the moment."

"Oh," she exclaimed, taken aback.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just..."

"Shit..." he whispered, then gave her a shy, yet purposeful, smile. "Can you really hear it?"

"The walls are not very thick, badly isolated," she explained. "At some point, you'll hear my husband's snoring, too..."

"You're married," he realized.

"Huh-um," she nodded, quickly lowering her face, hiding the sudden flush.

"Alright," he said and got up.

Lana ran her fingers through her hair, watching him wash his cup. Her gaze, however, did not remain fixed on his muscular back for long; it was lowered southwards, on his boxers. She noticed a long bulge, swinging along with his body, as he wiped the sink dry.

Her hand went to her waist, instinctively; her fingers wrapped around the robe's belt. In one swift move, she loosened the knot; not entirely, but enough.

"Do you need any help, by the way?" She asked and got up, too. That one quick move was enough to break the knot entirely, causing the bathrobe to open.

His hand covered his mouth almost instantly, in an attempt to hide his dropped jaw; his eyes, on the other hand, were very telling. She smiled, leaned on the kitchen counter with one hand, smiling widely.

"Help?" He cleared his throat.

"With your moving in and all; I mean, we're neighbors. I can loan you coffee, sugar, something like that, if you don't have the time to go grocery shopping between all the work you do."

"Oh, that," he shook his head. "No, I'm good, for now. I...I'm not starting work for another two weeks, so...plenty of time to settle in."

"Okay," her voice had turned low, steady, seductive. She flipped her hair back, now openly keeping her eyes fixed for a few seconds on the growing bulge that was tenting the boxers' fabric.

He looked downwards, too, turned sideways embarrassingly. At the same time, he did maintain eye-contact with Lana, via the corner of his eye.

"You don't have to hide it, it's natural," she said, with one hand caressing her cleavage.

"Right, yes," he muttered and faced her once again; he readjusted his boxers and for a moment the erect, thick cock was exposed.

"I was curious," she said, her gaze now fixated on the bulge, "about these loud, all-night screams; now, I know," she bit the corner of her lips, raised her glance and met his.

"Right..." he said and, quite abruptly, he grabbed his cock over the boxers, showcasing its immense size. "Little sluts do love this bad boy," he winked.

"I'm sorry? I..." she found herself at a complete loss.

"All I'm saying," he continued, his voice sterner, "is that, sometimes, all I need to do is take him out," and thus he did, and Lana's jaw dropped, "and some sluts' knees just give up," he grinned.

"I'm sure they..." she swallowed down hard, unable to take her eyes off of the hard cock, which was probably twice the size of what she had throughout her life thought adequate.

"You know you want it, baby," he took a step towards her, dangling his cock gently. "You need to taste it; you burn to know how it feels, don't you?"

"I..." she cleared her throat, pulled her hair backwards, as heat overwhelmed her body. "I should probably go, my...husband...I..."

"Why leave now?" He reached for her, his strong, steady hand wrapped behind her neck. "Now that the good part is about to start? Didn't we have enough of bullshit cordialities already?"

"Yes...no, I...don't know," she stumbled on her words, unwilling to take a step backwards, desperate to stay, to feel, to taste, yet, her mind already ridden with guilt.

He stopped her by kissing her roughly and fiery on the lips; at first, she tried to push him away, unsuccessfully due to the great difference of size and strength between them. But, soon she caved in, her tongue searched for his; she caressed his arms, his back, exploring every inch of his body.

He helped her out of her bathrobe, then he reached under the nightgown; "hmmm," he whispered in her ear, "I love whores, who don't wear panties."

She kissed his neck passionately, moaning low in his ear, as his fingers explored her cunt, spreading the lips apart, toying with the clit, softly teasing penetration.

Her lips searched for his, another round of passionate kissing commenced, as her hand ran across his six-pack and moved lower, reaching the ultimate goal; she wrapped her hand around it, unable to fully close her fingers. Stroking and jerking, slow at first, but, his heavy moans—and his finger inside her, moving up and down, tickling the clit from the inside—caused her to increase the rhythm, tightening her grip and stroking all the way to the balls, then back to the head.

In one swift, smooth move he lifted her up from her feet and sat her on the counter; he spread her legs wide apart and dived in between them, first running his wet, warm tongue across the soft skin of her inner thighs, then gently, but determinedly, moving towards her already dripping cunt; his tongue was on her clit, licking in circular fashion, his lips planted kisses on it and sucked on it.

She leaned backwards, her head resting on a cabinet, lowering her nightgown below her breasts, finally freeing them, enjoying the sense of freedom.

Two fingers inside her spreading the lips open, loosening her up, preparing her for the next step. His tongue still on the clit, licking furiously; her legs were growing weak, toes curled, with her thighs she pressed his head against her, unwilling to let go, desperate to maintain the sensual thrill of the moment.

He lifted his head and stared straight into her eyes with lust and delight, when her leg muscles began trembling uncontrollably; "you better pace yourself, baby," he said tenderly, "we're just getting started."

He yanked her down from the counter, her stomach still contracting from the spasms, her pussy dripping; "on your knees; time to learn what a real cock tastes like."

She kneeled, mouth open and tongue sticking out, obediently staring upwards into his eyes; he slapped his cock on her forehead, on her cheeks, on her tongue. She moaned smilingly, when he rubbed it all across her face, through her long, blonde hair.

"Here it comes!" He said triumphantly, and slightly mockingly, and thrust his cock in her mouth.

It was too thick, at first she had trouble accommodating it in her throat; breathing was hard, especially as he began fucking her mouth roughly, his swollen, clean-shaven balls slapping on her jaw.

"Look at me all the time, bitch," he slapped her across the face; her watery eyes wide open and raised, staring straight into his.

Her hand was on her clit, rubbing furiously; with the other, she reached for his balls, gave them a light squeeze, a nice rubbing. He moaned and intensified the pounding of her throat.

Without a warning, his cock was out her mouth; she remained still, mouth wide open, waiting, anticipating, hungry for more.

She lifted her up from the armpits, laid her down on the kitchen table; "you better spread wide, 'cause it's going in!" He rubbed the saliva-covered head of his cock against the all-wet pussy lips, slapped the clit with it.

"Hmm, yes, please," she begged him, "give it to me, I can't wait any longer."

"Are you on fire, bitch?" He asked her and she said YES YES, repeatedly. "And you'll be my little bitch, huh? You'll do whatever I want you, whenever I want you, right?" Again, YES YES YES, without thinking, too caught up in the moment to comprehend the implications. "Then, here you go, you cheating whore!"

In it went in one hard thrust; then, the merciless pounding commenced and Lana only moaned, screamed in extreme pleasure and delight, her body hot as Hell, her blood boiling, sweating, moving rhythmically on the table, following the long, deep thrusts; the balls slapping against her tight, virgin asshole, his hand around her neck, squeezing just enough.

"That's it, yes...I've never thought...it could be...like...this..." she mumbled amidst heavy moans and panting, her legs widespread, her pussy hammered ruthlessly. He grabbed her legs, lifted them on his shoulders, without stopping the drilling for one single second; always hard, deep. Slower now, as her stomach was contracting, her toes all-curled up.

She was in heaven, it had been years, if not decades, she last had experienced anything like this; an unprecedented ecstasy, best than any of the artificial drug-induced paradises.

"Come here," he said after she had climaxed hard, her knees still too weak, her muscles trembling, and pulled her off the table and down to her knees once more. "Lick it clean, bitch!"

And she did; sucked and licked her juices off his throbbing cock, stroking it furiously.

"Hmm, you're thirsty, aren't you?" he asked her mockingly; she nodded, her lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. "Good," he smiled and jerked his cock fast. "Don't dare close your mouth, whore!" He ordered her, her tongue was sticking out, while still fingering her pussy, nearing yet another muscle-shattering orgasm.

"Ah, shit!" He groaned loudly, tilted his head up in sheer satisfaction.

Several loads of thick, hot cum landed on her face and tongue; cum on her tongue, in her mouth, all over her face. Even in her eye, which began to burn.

"You know what to do next, right?" He asked her patronizingly.

Without a word, she swallowed; she then collected the remaining cum with her fingers and sucked them clean.

"What do good girls say?"

"Thank you," she whispered; he slapped her across the face.

"Thank you, what?" He demanded.

"Thank you, sir?" She half-asked, half-said.

"Better," he nodded in approval. "You'll learn, with time."

She got up, stood in front of him with her nightgown still girdled around her waist.

"Well, what are you still doing here?" He asked her. "I'm done, for now."

"I thought..." she started.

"What? That we'd cuddle? You've got a husband for that. I've got work to do," he told her sternly. "Go home; I'll call on you, when I'm horny again. And you better come to me immediately!"

"Yes, sir," she bowed her head, and smiled inwardly.

She grabbed her bathrobe from the floor and exited the apartment, the nightgown still around her waist, cum drying up on her skin.

* * * *

She took a long, hot shower; came once more. She cooked dinner and waited for Fred to come back home. All the while, she wondered when Eric would call on her and what he'd have in store next time.

Maria24
Maria24
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2 Comments
AmazonBeauty1966AmazonBeauty1966about 5 years ago
Nice

Great start ... Can't wait to read what happens next! Thank you :)

blackknight314blackknight314almost 7 years ago
Hmmm.

Maybe all of the drilling and pounding is him constructing his BDsm chamber. She is going to be in for some "good times" it sounds like to me. It also sounds like she might enjoy it.

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