Love Thy Neighbor

A few days of calm routine and Lana's mind would involuntarily wander back to her last, and so far sole, visit to their new neighbor Eric during the darkest hours of the night, when she laid restless next to, an oblivious to her thoughts, Fred sleeping his physical and mental exhaustion away; she couldn't help reaching down south, while recalling vividly those moments of intensity.

A soft snore from Fred and she'd abruptly return to reality, riddled with guilt over her indulgence to Eric's whims, alas she couldn't have helped the excitement of the moment. She had, however, swiftly managed to shadow her innermost emotions, perfectly capable of staring Fred straight into the eyes, when he came home from work, perfectly capable of kissing him on the lips without tasting Eric.

It was a Friday night like all others; Lana was watching reality shows on television hoping they'd get her finally sleepy, while Fred was fast asleep in the bedroom. Suddenly, there was a discreet, yet demanding, knock on the front door!

Lana was agitated, her heart instantly banging up against her chest violently, her hands all sweaty and trembling. Another knock, slightly louder; she shot off the couch, horrified; she peeked through the peephole, there he was.

Standing outside the door incapable of remaining completely still, stumbling lightly about; she observed him scribbling hastily on a small piece of paper. In matters of seconds, the paper was slid under the door and stared at her fierily.

Her entire body shaking, she picked it up, read the nearly unreadable handwriting:

you have 5 minutes; open the door, or your husband learns.

Cold sweat ran through her body; it was 3.30 in the morning. He was still outside the door, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor, leaning unsteadily on the elevator door. Lana drew a deep breath, gently unlocked the door, desperate to keep quiet.

"What's wrong?" She whispered, holding the door only half-open.

"Finally," he grinned, keeping his voice low, despite his half-drunken state. "Come out here, now!"

"Keep it low," she demanded. "Fred's inside..."

"Asleep?" He said with a glint in his eyes.

"Yes, but..."

"Good," he interrupted her again. "Then, you better try to be quiet; unlike last time..."

"We can't do it now!" She stated. "Not with him in...tomorrow morning, or..."

"All right," he shrugged. "I thought you and I had a deal, but..." he yawned theatrically. "If you don't want it any longer, I won't pressure you."

"I told you, tomorrow..."

"No," he said sternly. "You don't get it, do you? Let me be clear; it's either on my terms, or it's off. Is that clear enough?"

"Look, it's not so easy...I told you..."

"No; I told you," he retorted angrily, "I don't give a rat's ass. I wouldn't care if he was awake; or even standing right behind you. My way, or no way."

"We should discuss it, first; we..." she protested vividly.

"We did; it's not my fault, if you didn't get it," he shrugged and unbuttoned his jeans. "Look, it's either down on your knees, and our deal is on, or you go back in and the deal's off; and good luck finding someone else living so close to fulfill all your needs.

"Your call," he said with a grin and whipped his semi-hard cock out.

Lana looked bewildered; her mind was dichotomized, battling the urges. Is there truly a choice, she questioned herself, knowing perfectly well the proper answer, yet adamantly refusing to listen to logic.

"I'm getting impatient here," he disrupted her thoughts. He was leaning heavily against the wall, taking tiny, involuntary steps. He held his hardening prick, stroking it gently; Lana kept on staring at it, fighting the urges and lust boiling her blood, but, she somehow felt there was no real choice, no way out.

Abruptly, he grabbed her from the hair, pulled her closer to him. He guided her hand to his cock, let her stroke it; his lips met hers in a forceful kiss. Gradually, control was completely lost and rationality flew out the window.

"You better close the door and keep fucking quiet," he mockingly whispered in her ear.

Her heart palpitated, her head throbbing from the pressure; a choice had been made, she completely understood that, yet...was there anything she could do to keep the best of both worlds? She glared at the half-open apartment's front door, she could hear (perhaps, though, only in her imagination) Fred's soft snoring coming from the bedroom.

She closed the door cautiously, locked it once, and left the key on the keyhole; "good girl," Eric said grinningly, then pushed her lower.

Lana, at first, resisted; quickly, her knees gave up and she found herself crouching, his now-hard cock rubbed and slapped on her face.

"Tonight," he gave her a hard slap with his cock, "I'm only interested in your lips; nothing more, nothing less. And you better do a damn good job; when I'm drunk, it's taking me forever to come."

She gave the head of his cock a kiss, she reached for his balls squeezing and rubbing them gently. He pulled her hair up, while still holding his cock from its base. She took it halfway in, sucked on it softly.

He looked upwards, moaning low; she licked the steel-hard rod from top to bottom, running her warm, wet tongue across the smooth skin, tasting sex on the unwashed cock.

"Tonight," he looked at her and grabbed her roughly from the hair holding thus her head steady, "I'm not really interested in your enjoyment, or on being nice."

Her eyes glanced at him befuddled, when he pushed his thick cock balls-deep down her throat; she gagged, almost vomiting; he appeared unfazed, uncaring. He plowed her throat, staring lustfully and with a smile at her watery eyes pleading with him.

His thrusts grew stronger, faster; his swollen balls slapping against her jaw, the thickness of his cock violating and expanding her throat. Lana was choking, gagging, tears welling down her eyes; she would steal occasional glimpses of the still-closed front door, picturing Fred obliviously blissful on their bed dreaming the night away.

"Look at you," Eric spat on her face, "down on your knees with a big cock in your mouth, enjoying every fucking second of it; have you ever done this with your husband, you dumb slut?"

Her glance changed momentarily, as her mind was flooded with memories and flashbacks from a long married life. Ridden with guilt, she suddenly wished to put an end to it all, admit her mistake and her weakness and be done with it.

She didn't; there was a tiny voice in her head compelling her not to. Perhaps, it also was Eric's hand reaching down and fondling her breasts; or, his cock being driven down her throat, leaving her almost no room for breathing, no opportunity for clear thinking.

Whatever the true cause was, she reached down, her hand inside her tight sweatpants caressing her cunt; she toyed with her clit, rubbing it at first gently, then gradually increasing speed and intensity, while her throat was being brutalized, Eric thrusting his cock long and hard.

"There you go, play with yourself, you cock-craving whore," he grinned, then spat on her again.

She was drooling, gagging; she didn't care. In the heat of the moment all her former worries and guilt had been erased; a tiny part of her even wished for some other of the neighbors to appear, to join in, to...to what? she couldn't tell, lost in the moment, fingering her wet pussy furiously and having her throat fucked.

With quick, swift moves Eric stripped her off her t-shirt; then, back in he went, attacking her throat, his dripping with saliva cock filling her eager, wide open mouth. Two fingers in the pussy, she moaned and groaned on the hard cock; her eyes fixed on his, lustfully begging.

He pushed her down; she lay down on the cold marble, shivers ran across her naked back. He sat on her, pinning her arms down with his knees. He sucked on the breasts, licked and bit the erect nipples. She arched her lower back, her moans growing louder; "keep it quiet, damn it," a demanding slap across her face.

His cock slapped on her breasts; he spat on her sternum, then his cock was engulfed by her small, firm breasts. He began pounding, she raised her head; mouth wide open, tongue sticking out hungrily.

With every thrust, she kissed the tip of his cock; her legs spread open, knees bent, she couldn't move, could only accept the pounding, his weight pinning her helplessly on the floor. Her heart was racing, her mind emptied of all thoughts but that of sheer satisfaction.

He rubbed his heavy cock on her chest, twisting her nipples, squeezing her tits; he suddenly got off her, she felt freer able once more normally to breathe. It did not last long; he pulled her up to her feet from the hair, pushed her up against the wall. Her flushed face against the cold concrete, her arms held behind her back.

He lowered her sweatpants just enough to expose her ass; he pushed her lower, forcing her to bent properly. He rubbed his cock on her asscrack, gave her a few stern slaps on the ass.

"Behind that wall," he leaned forward and whispered in her ear menacingly, "your husband is sleeping; ain't that right?"

She gasped and nodded, her ear pushed hard against the wall. She bit her lips hard, as he teased her tight asshole, his finger on it, gently pushing it open without actual penetration; he rubbed the thick tip of his cock against it, continued the hard teasing.

He slapped his cock against her wet pussy, her legs trembled; drew blood from her lips, subduing all incoming moans, too close to Fred now, only a thin wall separating them.

He yanked her head backwards by the hair, her back arched tremendously, she moaned, her hands on the wall. He kicked her heel demandingly, she spread her legs wider; he crouched, his tongue on her asshole, licking it circularly. More slaps reddened her ass, he was fingering her cunt viciously; he spat on her asshole, her legs' trembling grew more intense, more uncontrollable.

Her heart palpitated, she was panting hard; her head hung low, her eyes closed, surrendering wholeheartedly to his rough touches, his manhandling. She couldn't resist, did not want it ever to end; his cock once more teasing her tight asshole, its head pushing in till the point of penetration and suddenly stopping; she felt almost compelled to beg him, a desire rising within her body and mind to feel the thick, long cock inside her once more, to have her ass violated.

He jerked her back to her knees swiftly, rubbing his cock all over her face, slapping it on her tongue. He fucked the inside of her cheeks, he thrust his cock deep down her throat once more.

He stuffed her mouth with his balls—ordering her to suck them good—as he jerked his cock, slapping it on her forehead; her gaze fixed on the erect prick, on his empowered with passion and desire eyes.

His cock throbbed, she sucked on the clean-shaven balls; he stared at her with cold passion, stroking his cock slowly, hitting her on the face with it.

His balls were out of her mouth, he readjusted her head's position; she received more cock-slaps across her face, the tip of his cock in her mouth as he jerked off faster. She licked and sucked on it, her eyes glued on his, begging and pleading, burning with desire; her body's temperature rose exponentially, she was fingering herself furiously—with three fingers— and rubbing her clit, too; waiting, anticipating.

Fred was no longer in her mind, he did not even exist in that tiny parallel universe she was at on that moment; it was all about Eric, his throbbing, pulsating cock, the humiliation she was receiving, the undying desire to feel him inside her.

"There you go," he moaned loudly; his knees buckled, when loads of cum were shot out of his cock; it all landed on her chest, around her neck. "That's the only pearl necklace you're worth of," he laughed dryly.

She licked his cock clean, sucked off the last remnants of cum; desperate to get him hard again.

"Alright, that's enough for now," he stepped back, tucked his dick back in his pants.

"But, I..." she tried to protest, still fingering herself, her body trembling.

"I told you; tonight all I wanted were your lips. Next time, maybe..." he gave her an enigmatic, yet promising, smile and unlocked the door to his apartment. "You better get some rest, too...you never know when I'll be calling on you again."

"Thank you, sir," she whispered, suddenly recalling their last time, and he remained still for a moment dumbfounded, his grin quickly widening.

"Good girl; you remembered," he nodded approvingly and shut the door behind him, locked it.

She remained on her knees for a couple of minutes, fingering herself till she climaxed, his sperm drying up on her skin, hoping he'd come back for round two; he didn't. Nor did anyone else saw her.

Slightly disappointed, she put her t-shirt back on and walked back in the apartment; Fred was still asleep, his snoring the only sound. She turned the tv and the living-room lights off and went to bed, without a shower or wiping herself clean.

She closed her eyes, but Morpheus refused to admit her in his kingdom; she pictured the wild moments of a short while ago, how he had teased and treated her. She wanted more; deep down inside her she knew she'd eventually get it. But, she also knew it would never be on her terms.

He had turned her into his plaything and she had willingly agreed to it without hesitation; Fred snored loudly, Lana frowned. She ran her fingers across her chest feeling the drying up jizz and a smile formed on her face.

Finally, she succumbed to exhaustion; even in her dreams, she thought of her next encounter with the godsend—as it seemed to her—neighbor.