New Neighbor

edited by Tristan Da Cunha

I've just signed the papers on my new house! I loathed the idea of leaving my beloved Seattle for California, but it was comforting that I'd be sharing the same city with you. You don't know of my relocation--I didn't want to let on until the papers were signed and the job offer was solidified.

Being an architect, you would adore the layout of my new home. It's bright and warm, with high ceilings and plenty of wood throughout. My main requirement: lots of windows, and there are LOTS of windows. I still have one reservation--not being able to meet the neighbors. In the past I've had some negative experiences with nosey neighbors, but the Realtor let me know they were a fairly private professional couple with no children.

When I'm finally all moved in, I decide to email you and let you in on the news. As I'm about to hit the send button, you pop online and Instant Message me with a "what's new?" Heh, what's new indeed! I tell you about my new job and how I had to relocate to a new city. "Guess where I live now," I say.

The curser blinks interminably as I wait for your response. "I'm in the Bay Area now," I blurt out, without waiting for a reply. I tell you how excited I am about my new life in a new place, even though I'll miss Seattle a lot. I let you know how nice it is to have a true friend like you in a city full of strangers.

In the midst of describing my new house, you cut me off. "What city?" you interject, as if you can't quite believe what you've seen. I repeat the name of the city--no answer. While I'm waiting for a response, I casually look out the window and catch a glimpse of my next door neighbor sitting at his computer wearing only a T-shirt and pajama pants. Though the rest of the room is in shadow, a well-toned body and thick hair is illuminated like a spotlight by the glare from his computer screen. He doesn't see me because my office is dimly lit and he is not facing the window.

I look down at the screen and see you've typed a question: "You know that is the same city I live in. We're in the same city now?" I reply that I wasn't aware that we were going to be in such close proximity to each other. Realizing how alarmed you must be, I reassure you that I will be respectful and mindful of your space, being that you are married. Besides, I know I will be more than occupied trying to learn the ropes at my new job and far too busy to meet you, though I imagine how it would play out if we did. Glancing back at my neighbor, I notice he appears visibly agitated.

I continue typing, trying to say anything that would quell your fears. I've lived in smaller towns and not bumped into any of my friends accidentally, even at the lone grocery store. So by this reasoning, living in a much larger city would certainly be less problematic. You finally calm back down enough to become your old playful self.

We begin to chat in our normal fashion, writer to muse, and things quickly heat up. You type salacious requests to me, and I begin pinching my nipples a little as I type back reciprocal fantasies. The sexual energy between us rises, and I can feel my clit begin to swell and throb beneath my cotton panties. I lean forward in my chair, squeezing my legs a little tighter to increase the sensation. It feels incredible!

I peek over at my neighbor, hoping he hasn't noticed my silhouette. Difficult to tell from this angle, but he looked like he was getting aroused by something on his computer screen. Straining my eyes to get a better look, I could swear that he was touching himself! I could tell he wasn't looking at any pornographic images, but appeared to be typing to someone, oblivious to my voyeuristic gaze.

While I try to pay attention to you, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to look away from my hot, muscular neighbor. What you are typing to me and the vision of my neighbor touching himself through his silky pajama pants is really beginning to make me wet. I'm glad all I have on over my panties is a flimsy little silk robe. I release the tie on my robe and pinch my nipples harder, rolling them between my thumb and forefinger, until they are completely standing at attention.

You type for me to hold on for a minute, you have to get up and lock the door. Oddly, the minute you typed that, my neighbor got up and walked over to do that very thing. This surely has to be some freak coincidence. I shrug it off and continue our sexual wordplay.

Often when we have these exchanges, you ask me to do certain things for you and vice versa. It's my turn. I love to trace my fingers, mouth and breasts all over a bare muscular chest, and with this in mind I ask you to take off your shirt. Again at the same time, my neighbor removes his shirt! I feel my pulse elevate but I'm not sure if it's from the thought of you, or my bare-chested neighbor.

I manage to gather my composure and then type my next request. A man stroking his cock for me gets me so wet, hot, and horny--it's nearly unbearable. I ask you to stroke it for me. You ask me to hold on for a moment while you get some lube. My neighbor abruptly rises and exits the room, then returns with a small tube.

OH MY GOD...YOU ARE MY NEIGHBOR!

A rush of complete surprise and shock envelopes me. The realization excites me beyond belief! I knew we would be close, but this is unreal! I don't know how I didn't recognize you, but I guess the dim light and not even entertaining the possibility of you being so close threw me off. How will I break it to you? I'm so incredibly turned on, but how will YOU take it?

You come back to the computer, shirt off and pajama pants untied. "Now where were we?" you type. "Where are you?" I playfully reply, "you know where I am...I'm where I always am when talking to you." I decide not to tell you--not just yet, I want to really get you going.

I slip my hand between my legs and feel myself creaming my panties. The naughtiness and the excitement is just about more than I can take. The fleeting realization that I'm going to actually be able to SEE you hard, see you stroking for me, causes my pulse to race, shortens my breath, and sends an incredible rush to my clit. I escalate the fantasy role-play, and I can see you pouring lubricant in your hand and then reach down to grab a hold of your hardness. OK ... there is no way I can keep this to myself any longer.

I position myself in front of flickering candles by window. My candle-kissed breasts and the remaining room light caressing my skin in just the right spots, so that I'm poised and ready for your viewing. I type for you to turn around slightly and look out your window. I can see you stop stroking immediately, tucking yourself back into those pajama pants and pausing for a moment.

Slowly turning towards me your jaw drops, and I can see the shock envelop you. I do nothing but model myself seductively in your direction, until I look in the message window. You are wondering if I knew we were neighbors beforehand. I type back that "I'm experiencing the same shock, but what's done is done. You are the one that always talks about being in the moment. Here is our moment, be here with me."

A lengthy silence passes and we just look at each other from across the way. I'm over the initial shock and start typing again. Besides, this is one of the moments I've been fantasizing about for so long, I'm not about to let it slip away.

I type in "I'm here in front of you nearly naked, what do you want"? Another moment passes and you type back "trace your breasts for me."

"Game on!" I think to myself.

I bring my finger to my mouth, and lick it playfully. I open my robe a bit more and angle myself so you can see the outline of my breasts, particularly the nipples. I'm tracing my tits while looking over at you with lustful eyes. I notice your hand reaching into your pants.

I can see the outline of your hard-on through your pants. I catch a glimpse of you stroking through your pants, my eyes widen and I gasp. I take a deep breath, my chest heaving upwards while pinching my nipple really hard. You can't contain your excitement any longer and begin to steadily stroke your cock.

I stop for a second just marveling at the size of your tool, the hardness of it, and the fact that I'm actually seeing it! I'm in an erotic daze, my lips are parted and I'm suckling on my finger. You are still stroking as I stand up, slither out of my sopping panties, and walk towards the window.

You and I really don't need to be typing our fantasies any longer, we know what turns each other on. And with that, I press my naked body completely up against the cold glass of the window. I can see how this delights you, your strokes increasing, your other hand you're caressing your balls. Biting my lip, I back away from the window and start dancing for you.

Slowly gyrating my hips, bending over in front of the glass, then turning around to pinch my nipples for you. I reach down, bringing one of my nipples to my lips, flicking it with my tongue, not breaking our gaze. You are really pulling your prick at this point, and I'm so wet it's starting to run down my legs. Every so often you get a glimpse of my wetness by candlelight.

I sit back down and spread my legs wide, putting my feet up and anchoring them onto the window sill. You are rubbing your dick and I start to fingerfuck myself, spreading my glistening lips hoping you imagine being in me. I slip a few fingers in and out, mimicking your rhythm, making us feel like you are physically entering me.

Simultaneously fucking, faster and faster, until I can see you about to cum. I gasp and jerk because the sight of you cumming all over just sends me over the top. I'm so fucking turned on that I cum so hard it squirts all over my legs, dripping all over the chair.

Catching our breath, we sit facing each other, collecting our thoughts. No words pass between us for quite some time as we contemplate the unique position we are in. Until I finally type, "Can I borrow a cup of sugar?"