The Girl Next Door 57

When Doug got home from the Quik-Mart, she was waiting for him, her exquisite young body draped in a lawn chair, a vision framed within his open garage door like a well-composed picture. Doug switched off the ignition but remained rooted to the seat of his pick-up truck, staring transfixed through the wisp of smoke rising from his cigarette.

She wore her trademark shorty cut-off jeans and red halter top. Leather sandals graced her feet. Her face and body were tanned, sun warmed and glowing and Doug was sure there were no tan lines beneath the skimpy outfit just as he knew the naturally full breasts, the sweeping curve of her hips, the perky flesh of her buttocks. Her shag hairdo was out of date, as was the thick, dark bush he pictured between her legs. She looked exactly as she had in 1988 when she was Miss April in GIRL NEXT DOOR magazine. Doug Jenkins had fantasized about this girl for nearly thirty years, and now here she was, smiling and beckoning to him from the doorway of his own garage.

Shit...this is impossible! Doug clenched his eyes and leaned forward until his brow rested against the steering wheel. I've lost my fucking mind! he screamed silently. What the hell's wrong with me? But when he opened his eyes she was still there flashing her million dollar smile and waggling her fingers in a little girl wave.

Doug clamped his eyelids together again and tried to think. Was it possible for fantasies to come true? No...Hell no! Had he been a imagining a scene like this for so long that it had become an hallucination? Doug opened one eye, just a crack before squinching it shut again. She was still there, standing now with her arms crossed below her breasts, a pout forming on her luscious lips. Doug's mouth fell open and his Marlboro dropped to the floor of his truck.

It was just as he'd imagined. On a day when he had the place to himself, Doug would arrive home to find his dream girl waiting for him. It was a scenario his mind had conjured up years ago and finding it a pleasant diversion from the mundane reality of his life, Doug often retreated into this chimera. It was a sexual fantasy of course, and over the years Doug had added or deleted innumerable details, but the girl was always the same. Always Miss April. He often chided himself for his thoughts but lately his fantasy girl flitted through his mind more than ever, even invading his normally dreamless sleep.

I'll just sit here, Doug decided. I'll just relax...maybe take a little nap in the truck. And when I wake up...

"Hey!"

Doug's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright. She was standing beside the driver's side door. Hands on her shapely hips, her brow was furrowed, her blue eyes questioning. Doug rolled down his window.

"Douglas Jenkins you come out of there right now," she said in a husky voice. "I've been dying to meet you. Don't you want to meet me?"

"Huh? Oh, yes...Sure! I mean..."

"I'm going inside," she said, "Before one of your neighbors drives by and sees me. Bring the beer."

She's real! Doug shouted in silent exultation. She walks, she talks...I can smell her perfume! His left hand scrabbled for the door handle while his right grasped the twelve-pack. How the hell did she know I bought beer?

Doug leapt from his truck and hurried into the garage. He lowered the overhead door and peered furtively through the small window. The quiet country road was empty and his nearest neighbor was a quarter mile away. Nobody's seen her but me!

He stopped before the door that led into the kitchen and tried to slow his breathing and quell the pounding of his heart. Calm down, Dougie boy. Don't blow it. Sucking in his paunch, Doug entered his home.

The kitchen was empty and silent. Goddamned fool! It was all a mirage! "Terri?" he whispered.

"Oh, must you call me that?"

Her voice came from the living room and Doug scurried after it. He found her on the couch paging through a photo album.

"You have a lovely family, Doug." She beamed a warm smile. "Tina and Tanya are just beautiful. They must drive the frat boys wild. And you and Lucy have an anniversary coming up. Let's see...twenty-four years now. Am I right?"

"Er...yes. How did you know that?"

"Oh, I know everything, hon. Aren't you going to offer me a beer?"

"Oh! Sure...I'm sorry." Doug set the beer on the coffee table and ripped the side out of the cardboard package, then opened two cans and handed one to her. He drained his own quickly and lit another cigarette as she continued her inspection of his family photos. "Oh, you people!" she said, as though delighted with what she saw.

"Terri...er, I'm sorry. You don't want me to call you that?"

"Well, I'm not really her, am I?" She set the picture book aside and stood. "I mean...She wouldn't look like this anymore, would she?" The girl winked and struck a seductive pose.

"No, I suppose not," Doug admitted. "What should I...Do you have a name?"

"Call me Jule." She pursed her lips and cocked an eyebrow as though considering the name. "Yes. I like that. Does it work for you, Doug?"

"Sure." Doug stared hungrily at her while his mind raced in circles searching for words. Say something, stupid! Finally he blurted, "Jesus Christ, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!"

"Aw, you're so sweet." Jule reached out and stroked his cheek. A tingle of charged emotion ignited at her touch and coursed through Doug Jenkins' body in a warm, delicious flood. His knees grew weak and the crotch of his jeans tightened. His eyes raked her perfect young body before settling on the zipper of her cutoffs. He wanted to see, to touch, to taste...

"Oh, that's coming, Doug. I promise." Jule's cheery voice broke his reverie. "But we should talk first, don't you think? You must have a million questions." She opened two more beers and led him to the couch.

Doug adjusted his swollen package before sitting. Jule giggled at his discomfort and exclaimed again, "Oh, you people!"

Doug wondered just what she meant by that but had more pressing questions to ask. "You told me you know everything, Jule. And it seems you can read my thoughts."

"Oh, I do. I can."

"How is that possible?"

She leaned close and murmured in his ear. "It's your fantasy, Doug. How did you answer that question when you imagined all of this?"

"Well..."

Before he could formulate a reply, Jule answered for him. "You created some sort of alien race...you never were very specific on that, Doug...who would visit you and fulfill your fondest wishes. Right?"

"Well, yes...that's about it. Are you an alien?"

She shrugged. "I'm whatever you want me to be. It's your..."

"Yes, but how is it done? How is it possible?" Doug reached for her hand. "Please tell me."

Jule looked into his eyes for a moment, then shrugged again. "Well, all right. If you really must know."

"I must."

She took a sip of beer. "First of all, it's not really your fantasy, Doug. You didn't imagine all of this on your own. We helped things along...implanted thoughts, encouraged you to think outside the box...that sort of thing."

"But I've had these fantasies for twenty five, maybe thirty years."

"You were a hard sell, hon. A true skeptic." She squeezed his thigh. "You feel that, don't you? You wouldn't have felt it before today. You wouldn't have believed."

Doug leaned back on the couch and exhaled a long breath. Yes, he believed. How could he not? He could see Jule sitting beside him. She touched him and he could touch her.

"Believers are much easier to work with," she said. "They tend to..."

"Believers? You mean Christians?"

"Christians, Moslems, Jews, Hindus, whatever." She ticked off the major religions on her fingers like a lesson she'd memorized in school. "Anyone who believes in the supernatural or the paranormal. Fundamentalists who believe in UFOs are the absolute best."

"Then, why me?"

"Really Doug. You've answered that question a thousand times yourself." She gave him a playfully cross look. "Why would aliens want to make your fantasies come true?"

Doug's voice was weak, his words sounded pathetic in his ears. "Because I'm a nice guy?"

"Bingo!" Jule threw her arms around him and pulled him close. "That's all there is to it, hon. We like you."

Doug nuzzled his face into her throat and inhaled deeply. She smelled so wonderfully fresh, so alive. And she liked him. Could that really be all that was necessary? He wanted to let go, was ready to plunge headlong into the ecstasy that awaited, the wild pleasures he had somehow earned but...he had to ask.

"And you don't want anything from me in return?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know." Doug felt a fool but he couldn't stop himself. "My soul?"

Jule pushed him away and looked closely at him. "But you don't believe you have a soul. Do you?"

"Well...no."

"Dougie, why would I want something you don't even have? Isn't that silly?" She threw back her head and laughed. "Oh, you people!"

"You keep saying that. 'Oh you people.' What does that mean?"

"I don't know...nothing. It's just an expression. She took his hand and placed it on her left breast. "Well, Doug...are you ready to live out your fantasies?"

"Oh, yes Jule! I's so ready I think I'll explode."

He bent his head to her cleavage but she took his face in her hands and whispered, "Let's get more comfortable, shall we?"

As she led him through the bedroom door, another thought occurred to Doug Jenkins. "You said fantasies. Plural. There's more?"

"Of course there's more. Don't tell me you've forgotten?"

Doug thought for a few seconds. "No! You mean I'm going to win the lottery, too?"

"Your wish is my command. You bought a ticket at the Quik-Mart, didn't you?"

"Yes, of course. And I've got the winning numbers?"

"Congratulations, Doug!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry the jackpot isn't bigger but we had to co-ordinate with your daughters being off to college and Lucy's trip to visit her mother."

I'm rich! Oh, boy I'm fucking rich! Doug's mind reeled with wonderful, swirling images. A country estate, shiny new cars, the look on his boss's face when...

"Plenty of time for that later, hon," Jule whispered in his ear. "Don't you want to pay a little attention to me right now?"

"Absolutely! I'm sorry, Jule, it's just...I mean, um I never...oh, I don't know what to say!"

Jule stepped back and unsnapped her shorts. "Say you'll make love to me, Dougie. And then do it."

She turned her back and unzipped the cutoffs, then tugged them down over her hips. Sure enough, no tan lines. And no panties. Her golden buttocks shivered slightly and the shorts dropped to her feet. Doug tore at his own clothing as Jule bent to unbuckle her sandals. He ached to take her now from behind, but he checked himself. Slow down Dougie boy.

"Enjoying the view?" She giggled, then straitened and kicked both sandals and shorts off her feet. Jule turned to face him and Doug's gaze fell to her triangular mound of dark curls.

"You're going to get a good look in a minute," she said. "Would you like that, Doug?"

"Yes," he whispered. "Oh God, yes."

Jule reached behind her neck to undo her halter top, then pulled it over her head and tossed it behind her. Her breasts were pendulous but firm, her nipples small and erect. She struck another pose and gave him a good long look before slipping her fingers behind the waistband of his jockey shorts.

"Now let's see what you've got for me." She slid Doug's shorts down his thighs and his manhood sprang free. "Ooh, that's a nice one," she said.

Doug glanced down and felt a surge of pride. He couldn't remember when he'd been this stiff, this swollen with passion.

Jule pressed against him and explored his mouth with her lips and tongue. She tasted sweet and she felt hot as though her body temperature what somewhat higher than normal. Doug reached for her pussy but she pushed his hand aside and dropped to her knees. She kissed and nibbled, then took him in her mouth. Her lips formed around him in a provocative O...hot, wet, exquisite.

Doug moaned with pleasure but drew back. Jule looked up at him and smiled. "Oh, aren't you sweet?" She sprang to her feet and gave him a quick kiss. "Don't worry, love. You're not going to cum until we're both ready."

She bounded onto the queen-sized bed and lay on her back, legs and arms opened wide. "Make love to me, baby. Now."

Doug lay down on top of Jule, careful to keep most of his weight balanced on his knees and elbows. He kissed her lips, her nose, her chin, her brow. He whispered, "Oh Jule." and "Oh, baby," and sometimes just,"Ohh." His lips traced the line of her jaw and the hollow of her throat before addressing the breasts he'd dreamed about for nearly thirty years.

Jule purred and stroked his thinning hair as Doug kneaded the orbs of ripe flesh. He teased her taut nipples with his tongue, then sucked hungrily back and forth, left, right, left...Reaching down his fingers searched the verdant thatch of hair that covered her mons like a three cornered forest of moist silk. With thumb and forefinger, Doug investigated the lubricious folds until he found the tender button that guarded her archway. Jule raised her hips and moaned with pleasure, then gasped as a shiver of ecstasy passed through her body.

"More," she sighed. "Baby, give me more."

Doug moved down her body, kissing her belly, then her thighs until Jule impatiently guided his face to the center of her passion. Doug happily took up the challenge with licks and soft nibbles. He glanced up to see her abdominal muscles flex and stiffen as she neared another climax, then pressed his mouth into her with fervor.

Jule cried out in delight. Doug raised his head to see her breathing in short uneven gasps, her body slick and shiny, perspiration pooled in her navel. He closed his eyes and nestled his face between her legs. He breathed in her sweet musk, the pulse in her thigh throbbed gently against his cheek. Then he kissed her again.

Jule yelped and squealed and pounded her fists against the mattress as Doug ravished her again and again, and for the first time in his life Doug Jenkins believed he was one of the world's greatest lovers. Finally, when Jule lay silent and still on the damp sheets, Doug smiled to himself, then left the bed for a smoke.

"Where do you think you're going?" He turned to find her propped on one elbow, grinning impishly.

"I thought we'd take a little break."

"Not a chance, Dougie. Get back in this bed."

He lay down on his back and quick as a cat, Jule was astride him. "It's my turn to show you a few tricks," she said as she raised up just enough to guide him in.

She ground against him, twisting and turning and Doug marveled at the dexterity of her vaginal muscles. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Bet you never felt anything like that, have you, Doug?' Without waiting for a reply, Jule sat up, leaned back and began to bounce, sliding up and down his cock, slowly at first, then building to a frantic pace, higher and harder. Mesmerized he watched her breasts rise and fall until her nipples became a blur.

She stopped suddenly and exercising her special gift, clamped down tightly before lifting herself ever so slowly, up and away from him. With nimble moves, Jule was first beside Doug then back astraddle, this time facing away. Again she eased herself down over his erection. "You'll love this one, honey," Jule sang out as she repeated her earlier performance. Doug closed his eyes and tried to conjure up images of ordinary, sexless things...things without bobbling breasts and delightful genitalia.

When he thought he could hold back no longer, Jule arched her back and dug her fingernails into his thighs. She shuddered and cried out, "Oh...oh yes!" She bent forward and Doug listened to her heavy breathing and his own pounding pulse, until she rolled off him. Jule lay beside him on her back. She smiled up at the ceiling for a moment then thrust her legs upward in a wide V. "How about as little missionary style, Dougie?"

Doug lost all sense of time as the Girl Next Door took him on a guided tour of the Kama Sutra. She climaxed easily and often (though sometimes violently) at each position, then with barely a second's pause, assumed another. Pleased to be pleasing her, Doug attacked each new challenge with vigor, but eventually he tired. His muscles burned and ached and he was beginning to chafe.

When Jule pulled away from the twelfth configuration, Doug slid off the bed and stood, his chest heaving, sweat streaming down his face. "Baby," he wheezed, "I don't think I can take any more."

Jule leapt to her feet with more energy than any woman should possess after such a marathon fuck. She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Just one more, hon. Please? I've saved the best for last."

She spun away from him and bent over the bed. Propped on her elbows, she opened her stance, rose up on her toes and wiggled her sweet, young behind at her exhausted lover. "You're going to see fireworks, this time, Dougie. That's a promise."

Doug stared at the wonder of womanhood displayed before him and was powerless to resist. He stepped forward and penetrated her burning cunt, a low moan crooning in the back of his throat. Jule brought all her special talents to bear, squeezing and milking his prick with her fabulous musculature for a time, then rocking back and forth, thrusting, pounding her ass into his pelvis with force.

When she finally allowed him to arrive at the moment of consuming ecstasy, Doug Jenkins erupted with an explosive climax unequaled in the history of human coupling. He closed his eyes to showers of sparks and blinding flashes of light. Fireworks! Oh baby!

He bent over her and laid his cheek on her back, his arms hanging limply at her sides. Jule wriggled her hips one more time and Doug Jenkins fell to the floor in a deep sleep.

***

When he woke, Doug was back in his bed, flat on his back with a soft pillow beneath his head. He looked down at his ruddy cock, spent and flaccid, lying against his thigh in well earned repose. A rustling sound caught his attention and Doug lifted his head to see Jule rummaging through Lucy's bureau drawers.

"Looking for something?"

"Naw. Just snooping." Jule, still naked closed the drawer and turned to face him. "Your wife doesn't have any sex toys. Pity."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Doug tried to sit up but found his wrists bound to the bedposts and his ankles secured to the footboard. He started to voice a protest but then caught himself. A little bondage, he thought. Christ, can I get it up again?

"I've never been tied up before," he said.

"No? Is it too tight?" Jule came to the bed and examined her knots. She seemed satisfied with her handiwork, smiled and patted Doug's chest.

"I don't know if I..."

"Oh, you don't have to do anything, hon," she interrupted. "Just relax."

Doug watched her hips sway as she walked to the closet. Jule opened the bi-fold doors and reached inside, then returned to the bedside dragging something behind her. He stretched and craned his neck to see what she had secreted in his closet while he slept...or had it been there all along? Doug felt a slight tingling at the base of his skull.

"Aw. You don't look very relaxed, lover," Jule said. "Let me help." She leaned over, brushing her perfect breasts across his face as she stuffed more pillows behind his head. "There now. Is that better?"

"Yes, thanks." He pointed with his chin. "What's that behind you?"

"Oh, this?" She moved aside to reveal a pair of short cylinders mounted on a two-wheeled dolly. A slender hose protruded from each container and ran behind a flat panel which held a series of buttons and switches. The entire apparatus was swathed in bright chrome, including the hoses and dolly wheels.