The Neighbor Ch. 01

I first see her moving into the house next door and I am hit with just a little bit of jealousy. The jealousy comes from the fact that I know my husband would think she is hot. Even I think she is hot and I'm straight. As for me, I am not that hot, but I definitely get a lot of attention from the guys and I even catch a few women giving me looks.

My husband and I met in college and I guess what really attracted me to Jonas was that he was so much more mature than so many other guys in college. He had a plan and he informed me early on that. Even though he liked me a lot, he wasn't going to let our relationship get in the way of his schooling. He wanted to see me, but he didn't want it to be a distraction. That attitude may have turned most women off, but it proved to me that he valued his future. We married a year after he graduated.

We found a nice, little house to call home and lived a comfortably boring life for four years until Stephanie moved in next door. Jonas works in stock trade and is working a lot. I teach fifth grade at the local elementary school.

I am home on summer break and working in my garden when the moving van pulls up next door. Behind the van comes a nice little Dodge Viper and out of that steps Stephanie. She is dressed casually for the move, but I can see right away that she is one of the people with plenty of money but not so much so that they live in mansions. She wears short shorts and a belly shirt. Her cleavage is clearly on display and I'm quite certain that the movers appreciate it, as they are young men.

I can see her flirting with them and the sunlight glinting off her belly button piercing, another thing that I instantly hate about her because I am too scared to do it to myself, even though I think it looks sexy. I stand up, dust myself off and begin the walk across the yard to her house.

"Hello," I say with an easy smile and outstretched hand. "I'm Megan Stilts."

I half expect her to look at me and laugh or scowl and say something nasty. Instead, she greets me with a warm smile and piercing blue eyes. Reaching out, she grasps my hand in her warm, soft grip and says, "Hi! I'm Stephanie. Stephanie Patrickson."

I don't know why, but I feel more at ease with her than I initially thought I would have. We start talking, small talk mostly, and about ten minutes into the conversation I realize that I feel really comfortable talking with her. I like her, even though she is beautiful, and I want to get to know her better.

Before I leave to work some more in my garden, and let her get back to unpacking, I invite her over. I don't tell her any specific time, I just say that when she is all settled in and can find the time, to drop in and we would have a drink and get to know each other better. She graciously accepts and says that she doesn't expect to take too long unpacking because she doesn't have much stuff.

She surprises me when she says, "Maybe I'll take you up on that drink tonight."

I go back to work in my garden and actually feel really good about my decision to go introduce myself. My attitude about her has changed in just the short time I chatted with her.

——

Later on in the evening, there is a knock on my door and when I open it, there she is. "Hi, is that offer of a drink still good?" she asks.

"Yeah, of course Stephanie, come on in," I say, stepping aside and motioning her in.

I open a bottle of wine and we settle down on the living room couch. She has changed her clothes since earlier and now wears a mini skirt and a tight white tank top with plenty of cleavage showing.

"So, how did the move go?" I ask.

"Ugh, I hate moving," she snaps, then giggles and takes a swig of her wine. "Oh that's good," she remarks and kicks off her pumps. "I love a glass or two of good wine after a long day."

"Mmmm, me too," I agree, taking a long swig from my glass.

"So you said you were married earlier. Where's your husband?"

"Oh, he's away on business. He's into stock trading and what not and he has to work all different hours."

"Really? That must suck big time," she says, then after another sip of wine she adds, "Well, unless of course you're getting a little something on the side." She gives me a sideways glance and raises an eyebrow.

"What? No I don't. I don't do that," I say when I realize that she is talking about an affair. "I would never cheat on Jonas."

She laughs loudly and puts her hand on my leg, just above my knee. "I was just fucking with you Megan. Don't get your panties all up in a bunch now." She leaves her hand on my leg a little longer than is necessary and gives me a squeeze before pulling it back. I don't think too much of it.

The conversation goes on and one glass of wine turns into two, then three and we are both feeling it quite a bit. It is easy talking with her and when the subject eventually makes its way around to sex, well we don't hold back there either. She asks me some pretty personal things and I am a little too drunk to even care. We talk about fetishes and a bit about BDSM and a few other kinks. I tell her that I would never suggest it to my husband because he just wouldn't understand. "He thinks that stuff only happens in porn movies and with perverted people. He's pretty straight laced when it comes to sex, you know."

"Wow, I guess so. How do you deal with that?" Stephanie asks, as if I must have a problem with it.

"Oh, I don't mind."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Stephanie asks, "So neighbor," slurring her words a bit, "ever done it with a woman before?"

That question should put me on the defensive, but being a bit tipsy, it sails right over my head. "No," I say, my head feeling rather swollen for some reason. "I'm not a lesbian." For some reason I think this is funny and I burst out laughing.

Stephanie watches me laughing and when I quiet down she says, "You should try it sometime. It's fucking awesome."

Now I have a raised eyebrow as I look at her and say, "No fucking way. You're a lesbian?"

"Well, let's just say I have experience going both ways," she answers. Then she slides over next to me, her hand is back on my leg, but this time it is way up on my thigh. "I could teach you a few things you know."

Alarm bells are going off in my head and I must look like a deer caught in the headlights as I stammer out, "Ahhh..." but before I can make a legible response, she starts laughing and moves back to the other side of the couch.

"You should see your face right now," she giggles, then makes a pronounced surprised face to imitate what I just looked like as she sets her glass aside on the end table next to the arm of the sofa.

"Holy shit Stephanie, I thought you were serious for a second there," I say with relief.

"No, I was just fucking with you again. You are way too easy Megan," she observes and then adds, "I need to use your toilet before I piss myself."

"Oh, yeah um..." I point down the hallway and say, "Third door on the right."

She starts to stand and tilts unsteadily, reaches out blindly and winds up falling back onto the sofa. "Shit, I think I drank too much," she says and giggles again. This time when she laughs she puts her hand down in her crotch and squeezes her legs together. "Oh shit, I'm going to piss myself."

I can see that she is in trouble so I stand up to help her. I am very unsteady myself after, I think it was three glasses of wine, and I have to wait a second or two until the room stops moving. I take her hand and help her to her feet and we lean against each other as we make our way down the hallway to the bathroom. Once inside with the light on, I help her to the toilet and say, "You think you can manage from here?"

She leans on the side of the sink and starts to work the top button on her skirt. The fly is three buttons and I can see that she doesn't have the dexterity needed to undo just one let alone all three. "Screw it!" she says and tries to reach up under her skirt to move her panties. This turns out to be a difficult task for a drunk girl to. Finally, she looks up at me and says, "Megan, you need to pull my panties down for me. I'm going to fall over and I need to piss now."

I can see that she is desperate and I don't want to have to clean up a puddle of piss off my floor, so I get down on my knees behind her and reach up under her skirt. It is a surreal feeling to be doing what I am doing, but I am not looking at it like it is a sexual act. Her skirt is tight, so I have to really cram my fingers up there searching by feel for the waistband of her panties. It takes me a few seconds to realize that my hands are on her skin, so I peek up under and see that she is wearing a thong.

I've never worn a thong before because I've always thought that they looked incredibly uncomfortable and this one is no exception. The thin piece of cloth between her legs is wedged deep into her slit and I notice three things right away. First, she is shaved bare down here. Second, is the thickness of her pussy lips, which completely concealed the thin strap of thong material. And third is her smell, which I can only describe as womanly, earthy and very sweet. The smell is what really gets to me I think. I have always been turned on by my own smell, especially at the end of the day or when I am sexually excited.

When I see the thong and smell the odor of her pussy, I momentarily forget what I am doing down here and sort of just sit here for a few seconds, staring at her fragrant pussy. "Hey, what are you doing? I'm going to piss myself!" Stephanie blurts, waking me from my daydream.

"Oh, sorry," I mumble and then use my finger to hook the thin strap that goes down between her ass cheeks and pull. It is really wedged deep and it takes quite a tug from me to dislodge it. My finger slides down as it comes from between her ass cheeks, then it pushes apart her thick lips and pops out. As my finger reaches the lowest part of her thong, the thinnest piece of material, I notice it is soaked. I tug down and feel the material stretch, then rip. "Oh shit!" I exclaim.

Stephanie just quickly plops herself down on the toilet and begins peeing forcefully, sighing loudly as she empties her bladder. "You nearly got wet Megan," she says and I see a bead of sweat on her forehead, probably from straining to hold her urine. Speaking of urine, as soon as she starts peeing, the smell of her urine fills the bathroom. So much for the lovely smell that was emanating from her earlier.

It is at that time, listening to her pee spraying into the bowl, that I realize I have to go just as badly. I think it's one of those mind tricks, like whenever I hear water running, I have to pee. After drinking so much wine, I have to pee desperately. "Hurry, I need to pee now," I tell her, suddenly feeling the need to squeeze my own legs together.

Stephanie finds this hilarious and burst out laughing while still sitting and peeing and that makes me start to laugh too. "Don't make me laugh," I stammer. The need to release is suddenly worse than moments ago.

Then, she does something totally unexpected. While sitting on my toilet peeing, she reaches her hand up to the inside of my thigh, just below the hem of my shorts, and slides her fingers up to my crotch. "I'll help you hold it," She says, still laughing like a wild woman.

Unfortunately, her putting her hand up inside my shorts doesn't help me. It is such a shock that I actually lose my concentration for a few seconds and start to pee in my shorts. I feel the heat spread and see the look of shock from Stephanie as her hand gets wet. She laughs even harder. I am now doing the pee dance and yell, "Move it!" while I am undoing my own shorts. I have better luck than she did and without waiting another second, I push both my shorts and underwear down. At this point, modesty is out the door.

"Quick, I've got to go bad!" I yell, bending at the knees and squeezing my thighs together as tight as I can. A few more drops roll down my legs as I feel the dam getting ready to burst.

Still laughing like an idiot, Stephanie says, "You'll have to pee between my legs, I can't get up." She sits back up against the tank and spreads her legs wide.

I see the toilet bowl between her legs and my body just takes over. Without really thinking about it, I kick off my panties and sit down. With Stephanie behind me, I don't have much room on the front of the toilet, but I am sure I have enough and then Stephanie wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me back tightly against her.

If I had wanted to hold my urine any longer, I wouldn't have been able to when Stephanie hugs me like this. The pressure on my full bladder is too great and I let loose with a powerful spray that just clears the inner lip of the toilet seat. The relief is so great that I soon find myself laughing right along with Stephanie as I empty myself.

When my stream has finally stopped, I feel shame and embarrassment at what I have just done. I try to get up, but Stephanie holds me tight. "Don't forget to wipe," she whispers in my ear before running her hand down through my still dripping pussy.

I don't know what goes through my mind at this point. I think I am too shocked to even think, but I just gasp and freeze while her fingers find my pussy and slide inside. Finally, I am able to say, "Stephanie, what the fuck are you doing?"

She sucks my earlobe for a few seconds, drawing another gasp and then says, "I'm fingering you silly."

"But why?" I ask a bit perturbed. I grasp her wrists and try pulling her hands away from me.

"Just relax and let me make you feel good," she answers, the middle finger of her right hand buries knuckle deep in my pussy.

"Uhh, but I can't. I'm not a lesbian Stephanie and I'm married," I whisper the last half of the sentence as if my husband were home and I am worried that he might hear me, even though the house is empty.

"It won't make you a lesbian Megan. Just think of it as masturbation, but with a little bit of help."

Now that I think about it, for someone who is so drunk that she couldn't walk to the bathroom with assistance, she is remarkably lucid all of a sudden. I should have realized that, but I am too flustered and just a bit turned on. I know I said that I am straight and I don't want to have sex with Stephanie and I really don't, but it feels good.

My mind is still muddled from the wine and I am trying figure out how to handle the situation when all of a sudden I just start giggling. I really don't know why or what I think is funny, but once I start, I can't stop. I guess that it is just the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Here we were, spooning on the open toilet, the strong smell of urine emanating throughout the bathroom and Stephanie reaching around me and shoving her fingers into my pussy. I am nude from the waist down while Stephanie is still in her short skirt and her busted thong straps hanging down. Whether I am laughing because of the crazy situation or the stress of being molested by a woman, I don't know.

I laugh until tears fall from my eyes and the next thing I know, Stephanie pulls her finger out of my pussy and brings it up to my mouth. "Clean the piss off my finger," she says and before I know what is happening, she shoves her middle finger into my mouth.

I taste my thick pussy juices mixed with the unmistakable biting bitterness of urine. I was shocked when she had started to finger me, but now I am disgusted that she would shove her finger into my mouth, even if it is my own urine. I nearly bite her, but right when I feel my anger about to bubble over, she says something to me that stops me.

"Be a good little slave and you'll be rewarded."

With this one sentence I freeze with my mouth gently closed around her finger. My body has become stiff as a board and I forget to breathe while her chilling words echo through my head. She called me slave and something snaps inside my head.

"Stephanie?" I ask around her finger, making it sound like a two year old learning talk.

She shushes me then whispers into my ear, which I find so erotic for some reason. "No talking, just suck my finger." When I don't move for a second, she raises her voice just a bit and says, "Do it now!" while she pinches my pussy lips with her free hand. The pain jump starts me into action. I suck in my breath and immediately begin sucking and licking her finger. "That's a good little bitch. Suck it all clean," she coos in my ear again, making me melt. She called me bitch. Normally, that would deserve a slap, but instead I feel a tremor travel up my spine and I moan. I have become a quivering mass of jelly in her arms. What is wrong with me?

After she has painfully pinched my pussy and gets me to start sucking her finger, she begins to rub her hand up and down my pussy. I am still sucking her other finger when she says, "You want to be my slave, don't you?" I let her move my head up and down in a nodding motion. At this moment, I really do want it. She then says, "Good girl. You'll make a good slave. Now stand up."

She pulls her fingers out of my mouth and pussy and pushes me forward. As I stand up, she holds my hips so I can't turn around. She slides one hand up on my lower back and says, "Bend over, I want a good look at that ass." It is wrong and I know it is wrong, but I let it happen. I bend forward at the waist and spread my legs apart when she begins spanking my inner thighs and says, "Spread them." I have no idea what to expect, but at this moment, I think I am more turned on than ever before.

I close my eyes, feeling much more sober now, and shiver in anticipation. Of what, I don't know, but I believe that I am ready for anything. I feel her hand back at my pussy, my wet, dripping pussy, and it isn't dripping wet from urine anymore, it is wet from pure excitement. She rubs her hand back and forth, squishing noisily through my lips and drawing a hushed moan from deep in my throat.

"Pick up your underwear slave," she orders from behind me. I reach down with my left hand, but before I can grab them, she stops me. "No. Pick them up with your mouth."

From my vantage point I can see that they are really soaked with my pee and I balk at her order. "But they are soaked in pee," I say.

I feel the back of my hair being grabbed roughly and my head is yanked back, at the same time the fingers playing in my pussy suddenly pull away and loud stinging slaps began to rain down on my ass cheeks. "That wasn't a request slave!" she shouts. "Now be a good slave and pick them up!"

I don't know why, but I do what she wants. I have to get down on my knees to do it and when I get down I can smell my urine in them. I try to pick them up with my teeth at the very top by the waist elastic, but the way they have dropped to the floor leaves the wet crotch part sticking up. I think that maybe I can flip them over with my chin or nose, but when Stephanie sees what I am trying to do she shouts, "Hurry up!" and pushes my face down into them.

As gross as it is to have my face pushed into my panties, the effect that Stephanie's dominating attitude is having on me is hard to ignore. I am living out one of my most secret fantasies. The fact that it is a woman who is dominating me instead of a man seems to add to the excitement for some reason. I think it is the taboo nature of it that really gets to me.

I open my mouth and clamp my lips down on the wet material, then wait for Stephanie to release me so I can pick them up. When I do, she makes me stay on my hands and knees with my soiled underwear hanging from my mouth. The smell is really strong and even though I try not to taste anything, the bitterness soon permeates my mouth.

I see Stephanie's hand reach down underneath my mouth and tug the panties, so I open up so she can take them, but instead she starts pushing them all the way into my mouth. I thought the taste couldn't get any worse, but I am so wrong. The taste of urine explodes in my mouth and I gag as I involuntarily swallow. I manage to suppress my gag reflex and not puke all over the place while Stephanie manages to stuff my entire panty in my mouth. I am whining like a sad puppy, but my pussy is dripping wet with excitement.