Neighbourly Relations Ch. 04

She did as commanded, a spirited attempt to make her poor tortured bottom seem positively alluring, made of course difficult by being bound and kneeling. Christ, she looked so good... I wanted to take her, I wanted to just go over there and take her right there and then.

That was when it occurred to me. Why didn't I? It felt right, I knew she'd want it... The time had come.

I placed the camera down on the floor and walked back over to her, kneeling behind her. Slowly, tentatively I placed a hand against her backside. She flinched as I touched the sore flesh, but relaxed as I trailed a finger down the outline of her warm behind and then into the soft, wet space between her legs. And Christ, shewas wet. Sopping, absolutely sopping.

"Someone's excited, aren't they?" I asked lightly as I just lightly traced lines up and down there with the very tip of my finger.

"Yes sir," she sighed, barely more than a breath. I paused my finger on her clit, massaging it very softly.

"You're a hot little slut, aren't you?"

A pause, and then:

"Hot for you, sir."

Was she deliberately trying to get me going, or simply speaking honestly? Probably the former. We were beyond games now, running on pure instincts. Moving up, I pressed myself against her, my chest against her back as I leaned to speak into her ear, my finger still gently massaging her wetness.

"You want something in you, don't you?" I whispered.

"Oh God yes... Yes sir, I do."

"Something hard and firm."

"Yes sir..."

I pressed my finger into her a little.

"You want to befucked don't you, you little bitch?"

"More than anything, sir."

"You want to be taken, used for the only thing you're good for."

"Yes..."

"Good."

Was she surprised? She didn't say anything. Didn't move or make a single sound. I realised she was holding her breath in anticipation. I couldn't think of anything else to say. I moved back, unzipped my jeans, practically tore them off, my t-shirt then coming off over my head and then my underwear until like her I was naked, kneeling behind her, then forward against her.

"I'm going to take you now, slut," I told her. "Hard and fast and brutal."

"I'm all yours sir," she whispered in reply.

And then I was inside her. No fuss, no preamble, no ceremony, just my cock – my achingly hard cock, which had been waiting for this ever since I'd entered her bedroom was it just one week beforehand? – sliding smoothly into her, pressing so far into her my balls gently slapped against her.

"Oh God!" she cried out.

I said nothing, merely breathing as I slid in and out, in and out, luxuriating in the warmth and wetness of her. Fucking hell, she felt good! I couldn't remember ever having such a wonderful sensation, such a feeling of complete and utter unmitigated pleasure as I thrust into her, harder and harder and faster and faster, forcing myself against her, fucking her harder still as she bucked and rocked in her bonds.

"Fuck me!" she cried out in gasps between deep breaths. "Oh God, fuck me sir!"

I was already going just that, pressing my body firmly against hers as we moaned in unison. I knew this wasn't going to take long, we were both so close to the edge already. But fuck it felt good. I could feel a stirring in my balls as my orgasm built, and I got closer and closer...

Somehow – fuck knows how, because we were down to pure animal passion by that stage – I knew that I couldn't finish inside her. I had no idea what, if any, birth control she might be using, and as out of my mind with pleasure as I was I didn't want to take any risks. So at the moment, at the very moment of release I pulled myself out of her and grabbed her hair, no time to explain what I was going to do. Stepping backward I yanked her back by her hair, making her cry out as she collapsed backward. Standing over her, I barely had to touch my cock before I finished, the thick, sticky white waves of semen spurting out over her beaten breasts, cooling the reddened flesh as it dripped and spurted all over them.

She had finished as well, crying out and then closing her eyes, taking big, deep, grateful breaths of air as I collapsed to the floor next to her, too tired and too spent to say or do anything as I lay there, naked, on the carpet. We stayed like that, getting our breath back, for some time.

"Is itvery sore?"

I'd let her use my shower, when I eventually recovered enough to release her from her bonds. Well, I could hardly let her go home like that, could I? Things were somewhat calmer now as I sat on the couch and she sat astride me, her hair with that gorgeously wet, bedraggled 'just out of the shower' look, wearing only my borrowed dressing gown. I'd opened the gown a little to take out and fondle her left breast, which I now gently cupped in my hand. It did look very sore.

"Yes," she answered, smiling happily down at me as she did so. "Thank you."

She leaned in and I went forward to meet her, our lips joining as we exchanged another tender kiss. She was a superb kisser, and I enjoyed these little moments of more tranquil intimacy between the two of us. Neither of us had said anything about the fact that we'd finally done it, taken the last major step. Fucked. The peaceful caresses we were now enjoying perhaps spoke more about that than words could.

"At least now you have some pictures of yourself to add to your little collection," I pointed out.

"Yes."

She did seem quite happy about this, but there was a look on her face that gave away a desire for something else.

"But...?"

"Oh, nothing."

I gave her a playful, light slap on her exposed breast.

"No, there is something. Are you going to tell me willingly or do I have to go and get the wooden spoon again?"

I knew that a part of her probably wanted another session with the spoon, but eventually she confessed:

"Well, there is something."

"Go on."

"It's just... What we did today. I'd like to see it. And not just with photos."

I was confused for a moment, before I managed to piece together what she meant.

"You want to see yourself getting fucked?"

She nodded, smiling.

"Is that weird?" she asked, seeming unsure about it herself.

"No weirder than anything else we've been doing," I pointed out. "So you want it videoed? You want me to video mefuckingyou?"

I knew she enjoyed the brutal emphasis I placed on the wordfuck, and she smiled gleefully, nodding.

"Yes," she breathed, her eyes alive and fiery.

"You kinky little bitch," I told her, smiling and somewhat taken aback, but pleased as well.

"Can we?" she asked.

"So you can fulfil a dirty little fantasy to be the slutty little star of your own porn movie? So you can watch yourself being tied down and taken again and again while you play with yourself at nights?"

She closed her eyes, her mind swimming in the images I was creating for her.

"Please..." she whispered.

Who was I to deny a woman her fantasy? Especially when it was so deliciously sordid – and I wouldn't mind having a video of some of our activities, either.

"Of course," I said. She positively squealed with delight, and again it seemed impossible to believe that this was a mature woman in her late thirties.

"Tomorrow," I told her. "Making pornography seems like more of an evening activity, so shall we say... Six o'clock?"

She nodded vigorously.

"What shall I wear?" she asked.

"You choose," I told her. "It doesn't really matter, you see – it won't be staying on for very long..."