tagMatureWaiting on the Neighbor Girl

Waiting on the Neighbor Girl


Orville Dewey sat at the window of the apartment over his detached garage, watching his bedroom light in his house go out from the room that had been the artist studio of the previous owner now serving a couple other purposes for the recently retired senior.

One was as a retreat to get away from the nagging of his shrill wife, who hadn't liked anything he had done for many years and was increasingly prone to mentioning that fact loud and clear. Their 38 year long marriage had become an albatross, and only Jessica's staunch objection to divorce kept them together.

The other reason was that the room had recently become what Orville's wife would call in her holier-than-thou manner a "den of adultery" if she only knew, and the old man snickered at imagining his wife hectoring him about the sinful thoughts he always had, thoughts that Jessica had shared quite rabidly until recently.

After a few years Orville had grown weary of being rejected, and although he made token advances from time to time, her constant refusal made Orville feel less guilt about what had happened, which was why when he heard the sounds of rustling in the yard below he got excited.

Laurel was coming. The tall and geeky girl next door who Orville had watched grow up and up over the years was going to pay him another visit, and while he occasionally still felt like a predator by having a high school senior as his first and only mistress, those feelings were getting more scarce as time went on.

Besides, while Laurel was a senior in high school she was 19 years old, the result of missing a year of school when she was young. The illness had left their mark but didn't stunt her growth, at least as far as height was, since the girl was at least 6'1" but was also as skinny as a rail.

Laurel's rather odd body obviously didn't do much for boys, since on this evening most of her classmates were at their senior prom, but then again Orville's tastes in women where a little off the beaten path anyway.

Laurel's lack of popularity was likely why she had been so shocked when after months and months of what might have been considered stalking, Orville made his move. He did that while figuring that he would probably get slapped and called an old pervert, but it was worth it to him, and he didn't get slapped.

Laurel was probably as desperate as he was, Orville figured, because why else would a 19 year old girl be interested in a grizzled man almost a half century older than her and a head shorter. Orville at his best was not a handsome man, almost Neandrathal in looks, although he was in decent shape for a man his age and better than most in one certain way.

That certain way was already twitching in his pajamas as he heard the footsteps hurrying up the stairs, and when Laurel burst into the room Orville had to laugh at what the girl was wearing.

"My basketball star!" Orville cried out as he rushed up to greet his lover, reaching up to kiss her neck and collarbone while embracing the lanky lady.

"Thought I would wear this as nostalgia," Laurel shrugged as she modeled her garnet and gold uniform with the matching socks that went way up her toothpick legs.

"You know how much I loved you in this," Orville sighed as they sat down on the couch. "You were so sexy."

"Was not," Laurel protested but not too much, clearly enjoying hearing words she had never heard and might never hear again.

"Of course you were," Orville disagreed while putting his hand on the bare skin of Laurel's thigh, lightly stroking the faint down above her knee while kissing her. "Why else would I go to all those games you gals played?"

"We were pretty bad," Laurel admitted as she rested her arm over the back of the couch.

"Maybe," Orville admitted as he thought back to watching Laurel's angular body running up and down the court, chewing up ground fast and working up a sweat. "But you know I wasn't watching the scoreboard."

"Mr. Dewey!" Laurel giggled as the old man nuzzled into her neck.

"I thought you were going to start calling me Orville - it's the only "Wright" thing to do," the senior joked, his corny humor always making Laurel laugh.

"I do, it's just that when I call you Mr. Dewey it makes it seem like what we're doing is really - you know - naughty?" Laurel suggested.

"Is that what we are? Naughty?" Orville asked as he smiled and enjoyed Laurel stretching over the couch.

"Sometimes we're a little naughty, and other times we're a lot naughty, but you're always nice," Laurel admitted.

"For sure, and you know, you look even sexier now in the uniform that you did in the spring," Orville complimented. "I love the improvements."

"I know," Laurel replied as the senior's hand came over and caressed her chest, right over the number 30 she wore those years, a number that might have also referred to her bust measurement.

Orville's hand gently rubbed Laurel's flat chest, now more accessible because she wasn't wearing the sports bra she wore back then, and her perky button nipples responded to the affection.

"Are you posing like that for my benefit?" Orville asked as Laurel's wiry arms reached up and back.

"What do you think?" Laurel responded, knowing what the old man liked.

"You know what I think," Orville replied as he reached up and toyed with the little strip of light brown hair that sprouted from the center of her deep armpit pockets.

Laurel didn't giggle but instead arched her body backward and raised her face towards the ceiling when the senior let his tongue slide over the sparse hairs, her sharp intake of breath through her teeth loud as she shivered from the old man's licking.

Orville looked at the hairs now pasted to her skin, hair that hadn't been shaved since he had asked her not to after basketball season ended, and while he had been shocked at seeing the modest little wisps that grew under her arms considering the jungle that was between her legs, the self professed child of the sixties loved it anyway.

"I love my furry number 30," Orville declared after leaning backward, and after telling Laurel to keep her arms up, tugged the uniform top up and over her head before casting it aside. "I love everything about you."

The fact that Laurel was just relaxing there, making no effort to hide herself, was a far cry from her panicked initial reaction to being seen topless. The girl's only other lover to date had been so appalled by her flat chest that he made Laurel keep her bra on or wear something else when he would fuck her.

Orville was admittedly quite shocked that first time when he saw Laurel without a top, because while he was expecting small breasts he wasn't expecting no breasts at all, unless one called the slight swells her nipples rested on breasts.

The old man hid his shock from the girl however, telling her that he thought she was sexy, and to his shock it was the truth. The angular androgynous teen did excite him, and the most he looked at her the more he liked what he saw.

That hadn't changed over the last few months, and as Orville began to get excited his animal-like nature began to come out his breathing got more rapid and raspy and his pawing got more feverish.

"Oh-oh," Laurel said in fake shock as she put her hand on the obscene bulge that threatened to tear through his pajama bottoms, squeezing the fat knob of the second cock she had ever touched. "Mr. Dewey's big dick is hard already."

"Always is when you're around," Orville wheezed as he struggled to get out of his pajama top without stopping the smothering of affection he was giving.

Laurel let go of the old man's cock to put her arms around the hirsute brute, her fingers sliding though the hair on his back that was just as thick as the pelt of silver and black on Orville's chest, no longer as squeamish as she had been in the beginning.

"You're wet already," Orville declared after he slipped his hand down the uniform's shorts and found her bush dripping, the dense jungle's opening no problem to find, and then he stood up and yanked the shorts down, choosing to leave the knee-high garnet and gold socks on. "Gonna eat that hairy pussy up."

"Take your pajamas off first," Laurel chirped as she looked at the thin cotton bottoms. "Want to see your dick."

"This?" Orville asked as a flick of the wrist sent the pajamas down to his knees, and as he savored the look on the girl's face when she saw his enormous erection swaying free he recalled in the early days she was afraid to even look at the admittedly ugly uncut cock, claiming the vein-riddled monster looked like something from a horror movie. "You like old Mr. Dewey's cock now, don't you?"

Laurel nodded and giggled as the senior knelt down in front of her, parting her skinny chopsticks and putting her legs over her shoulders before lowering his face into the steamy delta, the abundant hair massaging his cheeks as his tongue burrowed.

The teen was squirming almost right away, wiggling wildly as the senior's talented tongue worked its way into her sex while his strong hands worked under her buttocks, raising her up a little and forcing more of her pussy into his face.

The girl was practically speaking in tongues as he brought Laurel to the brink of orgasm a couple of times, and as Orville looked up through the bush she saw Laurel plucking at her nipples while she writhed around helplessly.

Orville got up on his knees, his flushed face wet with sweat and pussy and with a lost hair on his cheek, and as he leered at Laurel with his fully engorged cock in hand he asked he how she wanted it.

"Hard Mr. Dewey!" Laurel giggled as she spread her skinny thighs wide. "Just like you always do it."

"Thought you would say that," the old man cackled as he brought the knob of this cock to the opening, finding the hole only because of the wetness, and as he pushed the head into the snug fold he watched the teen's eyes roll back in her head and groan.

"That's it honey. Take all of my big dick!" Orville ranted as he leaned into the girl, the pussy more yielding that it had been in the beginning, and as he skewered the girl he wondered whether a steady diet of what Laurel called his monster would make her pussy loose like his wife's was back before she cut him off.

"There you go," Orville grunted as he kept probing deeper, the frantic way Laurel was clawing at the couch and him and anything within reach turning him on.

Maybe at some point she would let him give her other orifice a go, just to see if her tinier furry hole could handle him, but for now he was in her pussy and buried to the balls as well.

The old man reared back, pulling his cock almost all the way out before sliding back in, a little faster and harder than the initial probe. His back was already reminding him he was too old for this, and by the time he was through he would really be aching. As for trying to get out of bed in the morning? He would worry about that when the time came.

"Yeah!" Orville grinned as he began thrusting harder and faster, the sting from the way the lanky lady was digging into her arms leaving marks that made wearing his wife-beaters around the house unwise. "Take it all gal."

Laurel was sprawled in an insane contortion on the couch, slunk way down with her legs akimbo while Orville knelt between those toothpick thighs and kept thrusting, not missing a beat as he would occasionally lean over and slobber all over her little titties, sucking the buds so hard they would be a bit swollen by the end.

The squeal that followed, a maniacal sound that the girl tried to stifle as best she could, was something Orville tried not to hear because he made him so hot he had trouble holding back his own orgasm, and this was no exception.

"Damn!" Orville grunted as he struggled to his feet and knelt next to the drenched teen, jerking his cock and watching himself cum all over the lean frame, spraying his cum all over her from her neck to her belly, and after he was spent looked at the pattern he made. "Didn't want to cum yet."

"It was okay by me because I couldn't have taken much more than that of your monster anyway," Laurel told him as she rubbed the warm seed all over her chest, hoping it would make it grow. "I came."

"I know you did child. You came good and hard," Orville said as squeezed out the last drops of his baby batter before getting up from the kneeling position, his back now screaming louder than his banshee wife would have if she saw him like this. "It wasn't no prom but..."

"Don't care about no prom," Laurel said as she got her basketball uniform back on. "Boys are dumb anyway. I like men better."

"Lucky for me," Orville said as he kissed the girl.

"See you in church tomorrow Mr. Dewey? You and the missus?" Laurel asked with a giggle. "Same pew?"

"We'll be right behind your family," Orville said. "Thinking about that furry pussy of yours."

"That's not very nice. What would Father Wells say?"

"Don't know or care," Orville replied frankly. "Nobody listens much to him anyway. Sunday's a damn boring day after I see you."

"Well, I'll be back Monday night - if you want me," Laurel asked while knowing the answer.

"Course I do. Maybe you'll let me do that other thing?"

"Mr. Dewey, you know I can't!" Laurel playfully admonished the senior as she patted his now flaccid hose. "You dick is way too big for that. I have enough trouble taking it - you know where."

"Tell me," Orville hissed. "Use the nasty words."

"I have enough trouble fitting your scary monster in my hairy cunt," she chuckled.

"Maybe after I lubed that furry knot that special way like I did that one time? Remember?"

"Course I do. Mama was right when she warned me you were a dirty old man. Using your tongue back there!" Laurel said in mock outrage.

"I don't remember you complaining after you squirted all over the place," the senior chortled.

"We'll see Mr. Dewey. Got to run," Laurel declared, and with that she was gone.

"Day of rest," Orville mumbled as he put his pajamas back on, and while he pretended to hate the day without Laurel, in his heart he knew he needed it because he was getting too old for seven days a week.


Thanks for reading.

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