Morgan had been a cockteaser for as long as I'd known her. Which wasn't that long, granted, but long enough for me to form a pretty good notion of the kind of person she was. She moved in next door to us the summer she graduated high school. Her mother had run off with some old flame a couple of years earlier and she was living alone with her father, a guy who seemed to be off working more than he was ever at home.
At first I thought that would have given us something in common, something to build a friendship on, since my own mom had done a similar thing when I was still in my teens and I also lived alone with a father who was seldom home. But it actually did little if anything to seal a bond between us. Morgan had little time for me, even though we were close in age. I was too nerdy, I think, too bookish, too absorbed in my college courses. She once told me I was too nice, and she never dated guys who wore glasses. But that didn't mean I couldn't try my best to win her over. Especially since after a few weeks she went from ignoring me completely to at least giving me the time of day. My hope never flagged in those early days.
Because oh, was I smitten. Not only was she an incredibly pretty girl, with enormous blue eyes and flaxen hair, a perfect complexion and a mouth that ... let's just say a mouth that had me fantasizing from early on about where that mouth could go and what it might do ... but she had this body. Let me tell you about this body.
She was slender, first off, with long, lean, perfectly shaped legs and a tiny, trim, pert little butt. Her hips were curved nicely and she had a small, taut waist that a guy could almost circle with two hands. But then she had these tits, two beautifully shaped, full, heavy breasts that seemed to be about to burst free of any tiny bikini top she wore. How a girl so slender could also have breasts so big was beyond me. I happen to love slender females, but it's been my experience that invariably such girls are almost always small-chested. Not Morgan. She looked like she could nurse quintuplets.
And as to those bikini tops, well, that's basically where all the trouble began. From early in the summer she would sunbathe in the privacy of her backyard. Except that it wasn't so private as far as our backyard was concerned. From our back porch I had a perfect view of her favorite sunbathing positions. And if I ever needed to I could retire to my back bedroom and access an even better view from up there. I even had a pair of binoculars ... but that's another story.
Before we'd ever exchanged a word I'm pretty sure she knew I watched her from one or the other of these vantage points. It was as if in her every move she was aware she had an appreciative audience. What's more, it seemed she was glad she was being observed. She seemed to get off on putting on a show, on teasing the poor nerdy guy who kept tabs on her from next door. She would stride out in her incredibly brief string bikini, lay down her towel and whatever she needed for her afternoon's sunbathe, and then she would do her stretching exercises. She would face me and stretch her arms above her head, letting her lush tits heave and shift in that hopelessly overloaded harness. I mean the two triangles of material barely covered her nipples. Most of her breasts bulged out over the top or to the side, and the nipples dented the fabric in an obscene fashion.
Then she would turn around and bend over to touch the ground, giving me a superb view of her gorgeous ass cheeks. The bikini bottom was basically a thong, which disappeared between her buns and left them pretty much naked. When she turned to face me again I had a great view of the miniscule triangle of material covering her crotch, a piece of stuff so tiny you knew she had to shave her pussy completely to wear such a thing at all.
Usually by this stage I would have a massive hard-on and would have to resist the impulse to start masturbating right then and there on the porch, On occasion I confess that when I watched her from my bedroom I did drop my pants and begin jerking off. The erotic show was just too much. The girl was a walking wet-dream.
Eventually of course as the summer progressed I did manage to catch her eye and strike up a conversation or two. She told me she was working part-time at a local supermarket but was looking for something more interesting. She didn't have a steady boyfriend but was seeing several different guys casually. I'd already witnessed pick-up trucks and a hot car or two waiting at the curb for her in the evenings, and from what I could tell all of the drivers looked tough and intimidating. When I hinted at one point that I would be interested in dating her myself, that was when she laughed her tinkling laugh and told me I was way too nice and she didn't date guys who wore glasses.
Which was easy enough for me to accept, of course, but for the fact that she seemed to take inordinate pleasure in teasing me. She once leaned over the fence as we were having a conversation and since she was wearing shorts and a man's shirt open to the navel I could watch the globes of those gorgeous breasts shifting and rolling inside the fabric. She'd long since changed out of her bikini so I knew the tits were free to move. At one point, whether inadvertently or not I'm not sure, one huge breast rolled into the open and I had a perfect view of her erect nipple just a foot or two from my face.
"Oh my, you weren't supposed to see that," she laughed. But she took her time shifting it back inside her shirt and by then I'm sure my hard-on was apparent inside my own shorts.
On another occasion, an overcast and showery day, she was sitting on the side steps of her porch wearing a pretty, flowery skirt. I'd been chatting with her across the fence there about nothing in particular when she suddenly shifted position, opening her legs and letting her skirt ride up her thighs. I suddenly had a terrific view up between her legs, at the bare, shaved crack of her cunt. She was wearing no underpants!
She watched me quietly for a moment or two before speaking.
"Like what you see, Tony?" she grinned.
"Morgan ..." I began, unsure of what I was about to say.
But she simply laughed, pulled down her skirt, gave me a cheerful wave and disappeared in the house. I was tempted to follow but I knew deep down that was not her intention. She was simply interested in teasing me, leading me on. She didn't take me seriously at all. And I had to live with it. I was living next door to a cockteaser and had to make the best of it.
Eventually, toward the end of the summer, she did consent to go to a movie with me. It was some kind of romantic comedy starring an actor she had the hots for. None of the superstuds she'd been dating were interested in seeing it, apparently. Not enough gun-play and explosions I guess. So I drew the short straw. Except that I was in heaven the whole evening, sitting close to her, feeling her brush against me once in a while. My cock kept twitching in my pants the whole two hours, and by the time I drove her home my shorts were damp with pre-cum juice.
She must have sensed my condition, and when I parked on our deserted street in front of her house she actually leaned over and kissed me. I couldn't believe my luck. I thought I'd finally broken through. And it wasn't just a peck on the cheek. It was full open mouth with tongues flicking and the whole bit. My hand was suddenly on her breast and, miracle of miracles, her own hand went down to my crotch. As I squeezed and fondled her tit her hand stroked up and down on my hardened cock.
"Feels like you're ready for action, big guy," she teased, breaking off our kiss.
"Oh Morgan, you've no idea," I gasped. "You must know I've wanted you for months."
She just smiled. But then to my amazement she unzipped my fly and rummaged around inside my shorts until she had her hand curled around my cock and was hauling it out into the open. She began to pump on it with an expert hand motion. Morgan might have kept herself aloof with me, but this certainly wasn't the first cock she'd handled, that much was obvious.
