0 comments/ 32811 views/ 2 favorites Joyce, Across the Street Ch. 01 By: Chaingun The live-in girlfriend is gone for the night. Staying near the beach with one of her girlfriends so that they can get an early start tomorrow, she won't be back until tomorrow afternoon. So I'm sitting and watching TV, and working on my next Literotica submission. The Callie and Rebecca stories seem to be receiving good scores. And it's time to write the next chapter. It's been almost fourteen years since some of those incidents and trying to remember them has not only allowed me to remember a very interesting time in my life, but made me horny in a way that I haven't been in a while. I rarely drink. The common joke is that I will drink for my birthday, but since the date of my birthday is also the date of a yearly party for my friends and it is near Christmas, I usually don't get the chance to imbibe. Since "I don't drink", I usually get to be the designated driver for those who do. It's cool; I don't mind. But my chance to get silly and act the fool is usually missed. But tonight, I had nowhere to go, no chance of trying to drive while impaired. I can sit and write my story and chug Jim Beam until I pass out. No one will be endangered and no one will know. Or so I thought when I started drinking a few hours ago. I was pretty concerned about either being stopped by writer's block or by my own inebriation. The neighborhood kids outside making noise attracted my attention. When I looked out the window, I saw almost every kid in the neighborhood riding down the long hill past my house on scooters, skateboards, bicycles, roller blades, and go karts. Sneaking a long look through the blinds, it was funny to see such an odd assortment of conveyances all rushing down the steep hill with young kids of all ages—girls and boys—flying down the slope laughing and calling after each other. Since it is such a long hill, they usually don't come back to the top for a long time after one of these excursions. When I saw Brent, the next door neighbor kid roll by on his gas powered scooter with his little dog sitting in his lap, I looked to see if his mom was outside. Sure enough, Joyce was standing in the front yard watching them. She had a drink in her hand and was clearly dressed up to go out. In heels and a skirt, she looked hot. She is short, has dirty blond hair, medium sized tits, and a great ass. But when she wears a skirt, I feel like a voyeur when I see her in her yard. I want to stand behind the blinds and jack off while watching her. She's not model-hot, but there's something about her that makes me want to empty my nuts. Since her boyfriend moved out a year ago, she has been taking better care of herself and has been going out more often. She doesn't drive, so a girlfriend always picks her up and they don't come home until after the bars close. With her new Friday and Saturday night bar crawling schedule, I was getting to see her more and more in her "pick up" clothes. I swear she was dressing to get picked up and laid, but she always comes home alone. It was all I could do to not drop my shorts and run a nasty batch onto the Hummel figurines near the window while watching her walk around her front porch. She was pacing the boards and leaning over the railing every once in a while looking down at her well-manicured yard. There's something about her that turns me on. She's not a kid anymore; she's probably my age which puts her in her forties. She's not as fit as a younger person would be, but neither am I. In fact, I would characterize her as "sloppy". It's not meant to be a put-down. She just comes off as not very disciplined in her manner or dress. If I didn't know her better, I'd say she was poor white trash. Her clothes are always a little out of style and her body is always a little too unrestrained by her clothing. But her hip-swaying, tits-jiggling, poorly-combed hair, and drink in her hand attitude is a turn on for some reason. I've always thought that given the chance, I'd probably fuck her silly. I watched for another minute and she was clearly growing impatient as she looked up the street for her ride. She drained the last of her drink and went back inside, most likely to pour herself another one, since she soon re-emerged with another clear glass full of brown liquid. Her hipshot stance and anxious look at her wristwatch belied the fact that someone was late. I watched her for another five minutes while weighing my options. Since I enjoy talking to her, I made an impulsive decision. If I acted quickly enough, I might get to talk to her before her friend Sheila showed to pick her up. I wobbled to the bathroom just off of my foyer. I hadn't realized that I would be wobbling but whatever, the liquor was making me brave. I checked my look in the mirror (thanks Bruce Springsteen) and noticed that I was quite a bit more red faced than usual (thanks Jim Beam). I poured a fresh Beam and Coke in the tall glass and slipped on a pair of shoes and walked out the door. Halfway across the yard, I realized that I am no prize. What on earth is she going to give me a second look for? She's always been polite to me, maybe even friendly, but I've always assumed that's because I pay her son to cut my yard and in her household, every penny counts. Untucked t-shirt, untied sneakers, no socks, athletic shorts, why was I—as shabbily dressed as I was--going to talk to her? My large glass of liquid courage was half gone by the time I stepped from the street into her yard, which was about the same time that she noticed me coming. She lit up and waved. "Hey, neighbor!" she enthused and started to walk towards me while also looking up the street. She came down the steps from her wrap around porch and greeted me in the middle of the lawn. It was getting darker by the second and I wondered when her fourteen year old son would come back. If my plan's timing didn't work out, he might catch me railing his mom in the backyard on the picnic table. "I noticed you out here all dressed up and it doesn't look like your ride is on time," I said. "So I thought I'd come over and hit on you." "About time," she said. Hey, I was joking, but this was starting off well. "What's in the glass?" she asked. "Uhhh, whiskey...and cola. I'm alone tonight, so thought I'd get drunk since there is nobody to piss off in my house." "How sad. You should get drunk with us," she replied. I made a show of looking up the street at exactly zero cars coming down the hill and said, "Who's 'us'?" "Well, Sheila is supposed to be here by now. Should have been here half hour ago." She looked down at her watch again and then looked at her drink which was nearly empty, and said, "Time for another of these." As she turned to walk back into the house, I drained the last of my tall glass. I wobbled a little as I had my head tilted back and I felt her diminutive hand on my arm, "Steady there, cowboy," she whispered. I looked down and saw her in a new light. The lines on her face from caring for a young son and a house alone were gone. The blue of her eyes was not the tired shade that I'd always seen before. The body was not that of a forties-something single mom who had no time for herself. I saw the young girl that she'd been twenty or so years ago. That "something" that had always attracted me to her was now clear. At any age, she was hot. The look in her eyes told me that she too saw me as the younger, more virile man that I had been in my twenties. Recognition of this fact, showed in her eyes, and she looked away sheepishly. She looked at my drink and back up at me. "You need a fresh one?" she asked. "Yeah. What're ya drinkin'?" I slurred. "Rum and coke, big guy. But are you sure you need one?" I looked down at her heels, legs, and skirt, and feeling my liquor, said, "I need something." She laughed and headed towards the front door of her house. "Come on. I'll make you one." I stood in the open doorway while she worked at the kitchen counter mixing two more Captain and Cokes for us. I figured I could switch from whiskey to rum without much fuss and quietly eyed her up and down while she poured. I knew she could feel my eyes on her but didn't care. I absently adjusted my dick in my shorts; I had to pee. I watched her walking to the refrigerator to get more ice and checked out her legs again. "I'll be right back. I walked around the side of her house on the wrap around porch and in the shadows pulled down my waist band and pissed on a bush. I was apparently drunker than I'd thought since I don't do that sort of thing in my own neighborhood in front of ladies. But I didn't know that it was in front of a lady until she cleared her throat. I looked up, startled, but continued to piss. The gathering darkness did nothing to conceal my cock and the hot stream hissed and steamed in the mulch under the bush below. "Uhh, sorry," I said, "I didn't wanna walk back to my house and I thought you'd take longer." I had no idea that she'd walked outside let alone sneaked up on me while I was pissing in the bushes. "Speaking of 'longer', are you aware of just how big your cock is?" She continued to stare at it and I began to feel self conscious. I looked down and apparently my thoughts about her had caused an erection, because I was now pissing on the side of her car with a boner. (What can I say? I'm a classy guy.) It did look kind of big, but the stream of urine shooting out of it couldn't have been much of a turn on for a woman. I finished and shook it off, stuffed it back into my shorts which was no easy feat in that condition, and turned to take my drink from her. I must have looked embarrassed because I took to noisily slurping my drink while she giggled at me. "Whoa, you're going to need another soon if you keep drinking it that fast!" I stood looking at her, silently wishing my boner would stop tenting the front of my shorts. But staring at the little blond in the short skirt, heels, and tight top with no bra was no way to get a boner to go away. I finished the rum and coke and she stepped towards me to take the empty glass from my hand. I had to look away from those fantastic blue eyes. They bored through me as if to say, "If you do ever get the chance to get in my pants, it might kill you. Be careful." She turned away and headed again for the front door. She looked over her shoulder at me and I was afraid that she was going to catch me checking out her legs again. "Come on, I'll make you another one." This time I went into the house with her and stood in the kitchen while she held the door. She closed it behind her and stepped behind the island again and poured me another. The air conditioning of the house popped her nipples through her thin top. I just stood, staring at her, and she let me. Again, I knew she knew I was checking her out but she didn't look up. She just let me stand there in her kitchen while me and my boner checked her out. The drinks were making me brave. When the phone rang, I jumped and she nearly dropped the drink. The sexual tension was broken by the insistent ringing and before she answered, she handed the glass to me. "Hello?" she said after pushing the receiver up under her hair. As she listened to what I can only describe as what from where I stood sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher, I walked around the kitchen's island to stand quietly behind her, taking in the smell of her perfume and the close up view of her back. Two thin straps held up the sheer material of her top and her lovely shoulders were bare. A light smattering of freckles decorated the tops of her arms, shoulders, and back. The dirty blond hair hung from her head and lazily curled down to the tops of her shoulder blades. Looking down, the short blue denim skirt did nothing to hide her legs where they ended at the very high heeled sandals she had on her feet. I noticed with surprise that her toenails and fingernails were painted different colors; pink on her toes and red on her fingers. The only other word she said while I was standing behind her was "Good." She hung up and turned to look for me but I was not where I'd been when she'd answered the call. I let her know where I was by reaching around her with both hands and feeling her tits through her top. It was like she melted in my hands and just fell back against me. When my boner hit her in the ass, she reached around behind her and grabbed it through my shorts. "That was my ride," she whispered. "'Car won't start. She's not coming. So I'm not going. But you're going to be coming." I pressed my cock harder against her backside. "And I'd better come too," she added for good measure. She turned her head to try to look up over her shoulder at me as I mashed my hands into her breasts and she ground her ass against my cock. I bent my head down to her and kissed her hard. We'd never touched each other before now, never talked about this, never even stood close to each other before, but this was inevitable. Our tongues dueled, our lips were crushed together, and my hands roughly caressed her tits. As she turned to face me, I pushed her against the closed front door. As I began to pull at her top, she reached down and locked the door so that her son could not walk in and catch us. Never breaking the kiss, I practically tore the thin top from her torso and she was topless. I pinched and twisted her nipples while all but holding her tits up by the pointy little nubs. She began moaning into my mouth and yanking at my shorts. The elastic waist band offered very little resistance, but it still stuck on my cock. She broke the kiss to get a better grasp on what was keeping my shorts on, figured out the trick, and yanked the shorts roughly down until they fell around my ankles in a pile. I twined my hand in the hair at the back of her head, nipped at her neck with my teeth, and in a low voice commanded, "Suck it." She looked up at me as if to say, "I've never heard you talk like that," but without further hesitation, pushed me away from the door to make room, dropped to her knees, grabbed my cock in her small right hand, and spit on the head. She tentatively licked at the slit and then opened wide in a futile attempt to engulf it. Her pretty face bobbed up and down two or three times while I held her head in both hands. She was only able to get her petite mouth about half way down the shaft, though. "Come on, suck it. Get it." Where was this coming from? I never talk to women like this. The combination of the liquor and the "surprise sex" was apparently making me bolder than usual. She pulled her mouth from my cock and said, "Help me. I like it rough. If you want it, say it, make me, do it!" With that she stuffed it back into her mouth again and tried to force her head into my crotch. I continued to hold her head with both hands and basically pushed the rest of my cock into her mouth, forced it really, because she gagged when it hit the back of her throat. I pulled her head back a little and heard her make more noise in her throat. I decided to see how serious she was about being rough and without warning, shoved her head down on it while also pushing forward with my hips. Her gag reflex made muffled slobbering noises in her throat but I pushed past the back of her mouth. I made seven or eight more strokes like that, watching her trying to accommodate me, seeing the saliva covering my cock every time I pulled out, and catching the strained look on her face as she attempted to catch her breath every time I gave her some slack. She pulled it back out and said, "Yeah, like that. Harder. Make me swallow it..." She didn't finish the instructions because I roughly crammed it back into her mouth. Now I was fully fucking her face. Both hands were pulling her head to me and my hips were shoving my long meat into the back of her throat. She had both hands on my thighs trying to hold on to the action a little to get herself some control of the situation but she was too small to resist what was coming. Her eyes seemed to be bugging out of her head while her cheeks bulged, full of my cock. I allowed her the chance to take some control. She pulled it from her mouth, and ran her tongue from the root to the tip while looking me in the eye. "Do it now, come for me. Do it," she hissed. She stroked it hard several times, her little hands making my cock look even bigger in comparison. The sight was too much. The pretty neighbor on her knees in her own kitchen, sucking my cock, pulling at my balls, stroking the shaft, asking me to ejaculate. I did. Jets of white cum streamed out of it, landing on her tongue, in her hair, on her nose, and all over her lips. She continued stroking until she thought she'd had it all and her fierce attachment to my shaft kept me from losing my balance and sinking to my knees while in the throes of the orgasm. Her hands were covered from the last few pulses of sperm that she worked out of it. The scene was straight out of a porn movie. She was smiling and wiping at the cum that had missed her mouth and spooning it onto her tongue with her fingers. My recovery was helped by the fact that she seemed to be enjoying the feel and taste of my offering. I reached to my side and grabbed at one of her pink dish towels hanging next to the microwave. I made a few wipes at her face and the juxtaposition of the lewd scene with the feminine colored towel struck me as funny just as she took the towel from my hands and finished cleaning her face. She couldn't do anything about the spunk in her hair, but she did get the majority of the mess off of her face. She stood and looked at me in just her heels and skirt and I reached for her nipples again. I was still hard from watching her and determined to fuck her. When I grabbed both nipples and pulled them towards me and up, she moaned loudly and took a step in my direction to alleviate some of the force that I was applying to her tits. She smiled when she realized that I wasn't done for the night. When I grasped her by the shoulders and spun her around, she squealed in surprise. I pushed her against the island forcing her to bend over it in the process. When I pulled up her skirt, exposing her thong, she said, "Shit, come on! Fuck me!" I started to bend down to pull her undies down, but after spying a pair of scissors on the counter, had a brainstorm. I reached over and before she could protest, I'd grabbed the scissors, slid the blade under the thong where it thinned down just before going down the crack of her ass, and snipped it. The thong separated into two uneven pieces; the small flap that hung loosely above her ass and the longer flap that ran down the front across her pussy, between her legs, and up to where it hung loosely with nothing to attach to. "Shit, you fucker! Those aren't cheap!" she exclaimed. "I'll make it up to you. Bend over, dammit." At about the same time that she got fully bent over the counter, both from her own action and from me pushing her, I reached between her legs and felt for her opening. The sopping hole was easy to find. I deftly used two fingers to push the lips apart and then guided my cock head to it. When the big bulb of my dick began to split her lips, she said, "Oh shit, you may be too big." I replied, "'Bet I'm not," and pushed in two or three inches. She howled and wiggled her hips in an attempt to let me in without hurting her. I grabbed an ass cheek in both hands and insistently forced them further apart exposing her asshole and allowing me to see where my shaft was stuck up in her. As I bent my knees a little to make it move around in her quim, I also shifted my weight to one foot so I could use the other to push her feet further apart. Once she was suitably opened for me to push farther into her, I asked, "Are you ready?" "Yeah, give it to me." I looked down and worked up a gob of saliva and aimed it so that it would fall directly onto her anus. When she felt it hit, she really began to move, pushing back in an effort to increase the stimulus in her pussy. My cock sank into her another two inches. Still holding her open down there, I spit on her ass again and watched the bubble filled saliva run down over the brown eye and further down her crack to where it could lubricate my dick. "Yeah, come on," she insisted. Joyce, Across the Street Ch. 01 I complied and pushed harder. It was almost like I'd bottomed out in the five foot blond. She moaned and rolled her hips and that was it for me. The sight was enough that I decided that if she liked it rough, then she'd get it rough. I flexed my hips up and towards her. I pushed hard into her. She pounded a small fist on the island's counter top as I set up a rhythm of forcing it in and yanking it out of her. Her tiny pussy strained to hold me as I pulled out and it fought to keep me out as I pushed into her. The slurping sound that her suctioning pussy made when I pulled back and the wet liquid feel of her gash was getting to me and I knew it wouldn't be long before I shot another load into her. As her lubrication increased, she began to get into it and push back. She began making grunting noises in the back of her throat, keeping the tempo with her pounding fist. I had to keep my knees bent to continue pounding her pussy since the disparity of our heights kept her pussy below the normal level of my dick. She was impaled on my prong but my legs were getting tired so I increased the grip on her ass while also straightening my knees. It lifted her right off of the linoleum! While my hands were under her hips and my cock was straining at her pussy, her heeled feet hung in the air while she held her torso up on the counter with her hands. I pushed her forward until her weight was on the counter with her legs dangling below her. Once I had her in this new position, I gripped her by her knees and pushed her legs further apart. I now had full control of her body and our pace. I watched my cock disappear in her and reappear as I pulled out over and over. Our fucking was reaching a frantic pace and her noises were increasing. I grunted over and over as I pushed, making her slide back and forth across the counter. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" she repeated over and over again. I reached under her to give her some stimulation by thumbing her clit and found a piercing there. Not sure of the protocol in these matters, I worked it like I would have twenty years ago when women didn't have shrapnel in their privates and she exploded. Her legs clamped shut around my hips, she howled in ecstasy, and her nails dug at the laminate counter top. As her head came up due to her arching back, I caught her hair in my hand and held it like a horse's reigns. For effect, I smacked her right ass cheek hard, the crack reverberating in the small room. This seemed to set her off anew and she tensed up even harder. Just at the height of her orgasm, I looked down at the red hand print on her ass and my cock sticking out of her cunt and gave one last mighty thrust and started my own orgasm. I fired off into her almost as intensely as the first orgasm ten minutes before. I pumped and pumped, filling her womb with my seed. When I was spent, I pulled out slowly and before the sticky mess could run out of her, I grabbed the same towel that she had used a few minutes before to wipe her face and shoved it against her pulsing pussy. She reached beneath her and held it there as she slid her sweaty torso off of the counter top. When her feet hit the floor, she pulled down the skirt from around her waist with her free hand. She still held the dish towel against her soaked gash, and the front flap of what was left of her thong hung down below the hem of the skirt, and she wobbled on her heels as she regained her balance. What a mess the poor woman was, and to think, I caused all of that. "Get out of here, before Brent comes back," she hissed. Joyce looked well fucked, but I wanted to know that I was welcome to return for another performance in the future. "We'll have other chances; now get back across the street." I laughed and kissed her forehead, one of the few places on her face where no cum had landed earlier and headed towards the door. As I started down the steps from her porch, I heard the door re-open. I turned to look at her standing behind the door to hide her undressed condition from the neighborhood and gave her a questioning look. "You owe me a pair of panties, asshole," she laughed. "Don't come back without a replacement pair. And they'd better be nice." Joyce, Across the Street Ch. 02 For the second time in a week, I found myself standing in Joyce's kitchen with her on her knees and her fantastic mouth working my cock like the skilled artisan that she is. She changes up her technique, never allowing me to get used to one particular style of fellatio while I stand over her, looking down, and watching in amazement. Her tiny hands twisted their way up the shaft, she stuck the tip of her tongue between my balls and licked gently, she took light nips at my nut sack with her perfectly aligned teeth, and then she'd open wide and shove her full face all the way down on it until she choked on it from its length. Every time I found myself building to an explosive orgasm, she'd change the tempo or the style of her cocksucking. When I'd reach down to curl my fingers in her hair and try to control her motions, she'd flip my hand away with one of hers. She never closed her eyes or stopped watching me while working my rod, so she saw my hand coming every time. I vaguely wondered whether the furor with which she was sucking my dick was a reaction to me ruining a pair of her perfectly good panties on Saturday night (and not replacing them immediately like she'd told me to) or if she was "punishing" me for handling her so roughly during our first coupling. I didn't think about it long, since watching her petite form trying to handle my cock, which was clearly not made for such a small woman, was quite the turn on. She seemed quite intent on working me over without letting me come and for my part, I was willing to let her just so I could watch the show. It didn't take a genius to figure out why I was risking my stable home life by diddling the pretty neighbor lady. With the skills she was exhibiting, I think most men would make the same decision. The girlfriend was out late again, having dinner with one of her friends and certainly discussing all kinds of trivial things. I had decided to wander next door and drop in on Joyce and see if I could get a feel for whether Saturday's tryst had been a one time fling, or if I would be able to work over that tight little box between her legs any time my girl was gone and her son was not home. Joyce knows that I'm with someone; hell she can see us together across the street from her house any day of the week. She clearly is only in this for the sex, just like I am. When the late afternoon started to turn to evening, I had walked across the street to help her put a cover on her silver Mercury. As we worked in the cooling air, we spoke pleasantries in case any of the neighbors could hear. It wouldn't do to have the neighbors whispering about us; that could mess up our happy homes. The privacy fence on either side of Joyce's house would help us remain discreet, but there was always the possibility that a neighbor could see me walk up the long set of stairs to her wrap around porch. In between phrases of greeting and "how do you do" that two neighbors would normally exchange, we held a second whispered conversation that was simply a prelude to the coming tempest of flying clothes and profane commands. "Did you bring me some new drawers, asshole?" she hissed at me in mock-anger. "No, but I'm willing to try to be more careful if given another chance." There simply hadn't been a chance to hit up a Victoria's Secret or a Frederick's of Hollywood since Saturday and I told her so. "I definitely plan to get you a nice replacement, but I haven't done it yet." In fact, my plans were to buy her something so naughty that she would never be able to forget who gave her the present. There hadn't been time yet to make the purchase. She looked at me as if I'd just become the most presumptuous person she knew, "You ruined a fifteen dollar pair of underwear and you think you can walk across the street any time you want and do it again?" she teased. "Fifteen bucks?" I thought. Hell my entire underwear collection isn't worth fifteen bucks combined. "I'm willing to work hard and try to make it up to you." My mock subservient tone made her pull a face in my direction. We finished the job of covering the car, and she looked up and down the road to see if any neighbors were outside. "Where's your son?" I asked. I hadn't seen him in several days. It was too much to hope that she'd sent him away to facilitate another encounter with me without the danger of him catching us together. "Staying with his grandmother. He can ride the bus to school from her house. But that leaves me all alone here to watch TV, drink beer, and hit up the happy hours with Sheila." "Really? You sit in there and drink alone?" I asked. "Not like a drunk in denial, stupid. I have a few before she picks me up so that when we run down to Talbot's for happy hour, it doesn't cost as much to get tight." "Speaking of 'tight'," I said, "why don't we go inside, have another drink, and see if we can't stretch you out again?" She pretended to be shocked at my suggestion. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes widened. She started to say something, then caught herself. Wordlessly, she turned and mounted the stairs to her porch, opened the door, and went inside. The half open door was a clear invitation. I took one last look around and headed up the stairs. As my eyes adjusted to the low lighting in her house, I heard the door slam behind me. I turned to see her standing there naked but for her white Ked's sneakers. A pile of girl clothes lay on the floor nearby. What a sight she was. When we'd fucked on Saturday night, it was fast and abrupt, with no time to reflect and take in all the sights. Plus we'd never moved more than a foot apart. From six feet away, I was now able to properly check out her hot little body. Her B-cup breasts were still pert for a woman in her early forties, with very little noticeable sag. The legs that I admire all the time from across the road were certainly just as shapely and tanned as they appeared from the distance between our houses. Her tummy exhibited only the slightest bulge, a paunch that instead of looking slovenly on her, actually looked sexy. Instead of attempting to appear like the models in magazines, Joyce stood in her own kitchen, in her own skin, comfortable in being just what she is; a sexy, single mother in her early forties. "Time to account for what you owe me." My raised eyebrow must have been taken as the challenge I intended it to be. She checked one last time to see if the door was locked and said, "Strip off those clothes. Don't think. Just do it." Once I was down to just my underwear, she stepped to me quickly and grabbed the waistband and pulled...hard. The ripping sound took me by surprise and the force it took to tear through the elastic band pulled me towards her. The tearing away of the boxers almost made a rug burn on my sack and ass cheeks as the fabric pulled from my body. Standing there with the remains of the garment in her hand, she suppressed a laugh and threw them in the direction of the garbage can. She grabbed me roughly by the shaft of my cock and dragged me to the kitchen counter. I stood with my back to it, the hard, unaccommodating counter top pressed into my lower back. "So this is what that's like for her when I took charge the other night," I thought to myself as she dropped to her knees, never letting go of my prong. Before gobbling up my shaft, she said, "Don't even think that we're even. My panties that you ruined cost a lot more than those fucking boxers." For emphasis, she shoved my cock roughly into the back of her mouth and dragged her upper and lower teeth along its entire length. There was just enough pain from this action that I quickly re-affirmed that I intended to replace the expensive thong that I'd ruined a few days before. She allowed her lips to extend back over those perfect white teeth and protect my sensitive skin as she began to bob up and down on me. While she stared up at me with my cock in her mouth, she used her free hand to kneed my nuts. If it was possible, I believe she would have started juggling them in their sack. While she roughly manipulated my balls, she allowed my dick to slide out of her mouth. Her slippery tongue worked the underside of my rod and the head of my cock slid back and forth across her forehead and into her bangs. Pre-cum started to make a stringy mess in her hair as I watched her lick and nip at the big vein on the underside of the shaft. Re-positioning herself on her knees, she straightened her back, cocked her head, and swallowed me to her tonsils. The sphincter in the back of her throat clutched at my cock head on every thrust and just as I was nearing orgasm, I felt her manicured finger at my back door. In surprise, I tensed up, but she was insistent. As the French-tip nail pried at my asshole, I was overwhelmed with the sensations and fired off into her mouth. Reaching behind me with one hand, I steadied myself against the counter as I came, while holding her head with the other. She never let up. Her short strokes with her mouth, matched the short jabs she was making at my asshole. Suctioning all of the cum out of me, she made lewd noises in the back of her throat as she swallowed all I had to give. Not a drop escaped her mouth and I could see her throat working as she drank all of my cum. Once I was dry, she abruptly removed her finger from my anus, allowed my cock to flop free of her mouth, and stood up. "Now that that's out of the way, you're going to service me. You've had your orgasm, now I want several. Follow me." She led me to the couch; I followed behind her while checking out her dirty blond hair, the smattering of freckles on her toned shoulders, the two small dimples at the small of her back, her pert little ass, and the glorious shape of those legs. Without ceremony, she sat back on the couch, kicked off her sneakers, put her hands behind her knees, and pulled her legs up and apart. The dainty toes of each foot pointed up and away from the wrinkled soles of her feet, her nipples pointed straight towards the ceiling, and her unruly locks hung in a barely contained golden wash of color around her slender neck. Her little pussy looked like it had been cleanly shaved recently; not a hair was to be found. Its pale lips blended so closely with the surrounding skin, that it was difficult to see where her inner thighs stopped and the lips began. Since I was pretty sure that I'd soon see it up close, I knew that I would soon be finding the border between the two. Playing the part of the oblivious guy, I stood before her and stroked my cock a few times as if preparing to mount her. Those blue eyes took an angry slant and she said, "Nope, we're not doing that. Get down here and make me come with your mouth." When I dropped to my knees in front of her, her eyes softened. "Ah, you do take orders." Then in a softer voice, "Good. Come on baby, make me come." I placed a hand on either side of her pussy and pulled gently at the skin until her pussy opened up like a dewy blossom. Nuzzling the outer lips softly, I heard her sigh as I began to work. Her light fragrance and butter soft skin were intoxicating; I moved with a subtle purpose and licked around her box deliberately. As I slowly worked my way from side to side and bottom to top, I avoided her vaginal hole and her clitoris. Both were areas that I wanted to pay special attention to, but only when I was ready to bring her off and not before. After a few minutes of playing with her girl parts, she began to squirm slightly and make occasional moans. Since I knew I was on the right track, and that she was watching me, I took my left hand and held her slit open at the top, exposing her little clit. The small piercing there, held it up like a target for my mouth. I worked my tongue across it once or twice to let her know that I knew where a girls clitoris is located, but otherwise ignored it. Juices were beginning to lubricate her hole, so I dipped my tongue into her vaginal opening once or twice to savor them. When her squirming and moaning increased, I lapped at her slit from bottom to top, taking a detour around her button. After a few seconds of this, she began to move around in an attempt to make me hit her clit with my tongue, but I deftly avoided the contact. Once she was moving regularly and moaning more, I decided it was time to increase the intensity and work up to the full treatment. Her vagina was open, her clitoris was poking straight up, and her secretions were beginning to get past me and run down to the crack of her ass. Still holding her slit open with two fingers of my left hand, I poked two fingers of my right hand into her box and locked my lips around her clit. When I applied suction and my tongue to the little piercing and the flap of skin that it held prisoner, I also pushed my fingers further into her hole, curved the tips, and found the spongy mass of her G-spot. Her reaction was instant: It was like a timer had been started and when the countdown ended, she was going to explode. Her moans and gyrations increased in intensity as my stroking of her G-spot picked up. I sucked and milked her clitoris in time with the fingers in her cunt. It was no longer necessary to hold her box open to suck on her clit, so I reached below me and stroked my own cock a few times. What a site we must have made! Joyce was on her back with her bottom at the edge of the couch, both legs pulled back almost to her tits, and tossing her blond head from side to side while I knelt naked between her legs with one hand in her cunt and my mouth buried in her clit while stroking myself against the side of her red corduroy couch. To speed up the countdown to her impending orgasm, I increased the speed of my fingers rubbing her G-spot and was rewarded by more vocalizations. I knew she was close, so I moved down and rimmed the outer lips of her anus with a finger from my free hand and once it was suitably lubricated, paid her in kind for the reaming I'd received a few moments before. As my finger pushed into her bottom, I felt her whole body tense up. I wasn't sure how she was going to feel about me violating her ass, but what she'd attempted to do to me a few minutes before was encouraging, as was her reaction to my initial prodding of her rear with my finger. Within a few seconds, it happened for her. She grew completely quiet as every muscle in her strained at the orgasm she was having. The finger in her butt was trapped and nearly immobile, the two in her twat simply pushed harder into her spongy G-spot, and although my head was held motionless by her clamping thighs, I was still able to suck and lap at her clitoris with my tongue. The only sound was the occasional clicking of her jeweled piercing against my front teeth. Liquid flowed out of her like a faucet had been turned on and dripped down onto the finger in her ass. She didn't shoot a stream of cum like some women I've been with; it seemed to just release and run out of her. The creamy liquid had hardly any smell and the creamy, nearly clear color was the only evidence of its existence. As her first orgasm subsided, I determined not to allow her to come down all the way, and went back to gently stroking her G-spot while licking up the secretions ebbing from between her labia. When I began to move the finger in her asshole again, her jerking started again. I was gentle with her clit now, since I knew she'd be sensitive in this area, but there was no way I was going to quit after only one orgasm. As my finger pushed into her nether hole and began a stroking motion, I matched its rhythm with the two in her pussy. She then began to jerk in earnest again and when her soft moans increased in intensity, I knew she was on the build-up to number two. All of my fingers in her were soaked with her juices and it served to lube them for the work they were doing. Her pussy began clamping tightly to my fingers and it was matched by the warm tightness of her rear passage around my slick finger there. "My God, I don't believe it!" she gasped before another orgasm took the air from her. She came again with a force that was twice that of the first. I pushed my finger into her ass all the way and began the motion of stroking it in and out while licking furiously at everything that was flowing out of her pussy. She was breathless and unable to make a sound again so I again increased my efforts. The metal knob of her piercing in my mouth made it easy to hold her clit between my lips and attempt to control her motions. Nonetheless, I moved my head all over her cunt, lapping at her juices, licking the inner lips, and tweaking her nub. The orgasms came one right after another and I held her in this state for what must have been two minutes. Several times she jerked violently, held herself motionless while the muscles in her stomach stood out in sharp relief to her soft breasts, and then would resume breathing in ragged gasps. Her nipples pointed at the ceiling as she arched her back, her fingers would splay out from her palms, and her mouth made a perfect circle as it gasped for air. This long string of orgasms was not as powerful as the first two, but she was clearly enjoying them and the fact that they just kept coming. When she started to come down, she gathered her wits and looked down at me. My face was soaked with her juices but my mouth was still gently lapping at her nub. The hand I held at her pussy was shiny with her secretions from where the fingers stuck in her almost up to my palm. The single digit in her anus was slick up to the last knuckle and gently pushing back and forth. Some of her cum had even run down past that hand and started to wet the side of the couch. For my part, I was happy with the pleasure I'd given her and the sights and tastes I'd enjoyed. She appeared sated and satisfied, a condition I was glad I had been able to cause. She came down from her bliss and either was chilly or self conscious in her disheveled nudity or both. The sheen of sweat she had developed most likely combined with the house's air conditioning to chill her, but the lewdness of the naked neighbor between her legs with his fingers and tongue still filling her holes may have had something to do with it too. In any case, she pulled a small throw blanket from the back of the couch and covered herself from the breasts down and probably expected me to crawl out from beneath it and allow her to relax and recover. Since I still had her in an accessible position, I flattened my tongue and began gently licking from her taint to the top of her cunt with broad swipes. I pulled my fingers from her holes and used my hands to hold her knees up in the air on either side of her, an act which held her open even more than she had been a moment before. I licked her clean of her girl cum and began to feel the signs of her renewed interest. There was at least one more orgasm in there, I was sure of it. "That is soooo good." she whispered. "Nobody has ever spent that much time making sure that I got to come so much or so hard." I was hidden beneath the loosely knit blanket while the last, soft shafts of golden evening light stabbed down through the covering, allowing me to see the inflamed labia and angry red condition of her pussy hole. Pushing back a little further, her knees contacted her breasts so that she was almost bent in half, an act which pointed her pussy nearly straight up and exposed her winking brown eye which had so recently been violated. "I'm not done, yet," I said after coming up for a breath. "And when I say 'I', I mean 'you'" I joked. "Mmmmm," was all the response I got to a rather long and slow lick over her recovering pussy. Since now her asshole was in plain view as well, I gathered as much saliva as possible on my tongue before my next trip from her bottom to top. This time, I started my travels an inch or two lower and as my tongue tip contacted her anus, I left the glob of spit on the rim. Joyce, Across the Street Ch. 02 "Ooh!" came her surprised response. She startled slightly and then relaxed. When I finished my last languid vertical tongue stroke, I pulled back a little and took a good look at my new target. The crinkled opening of her bottom was a delicate and pale shade like that of milk chocolate, and still wet from its recent clutching grabs at my soaked finger. I rolled my tongue to a sharp point and lightly dabbed at the sensitive skin around the hole. With the tip only, I worked the spit and the remainder of her own cum around and into her asshole slowly to allow her time to get used to the idea that she was about to be penetrated by my tongue. "Wow! You're doin' things to me that..." was all she was able to get out before I began to work my tightly rolled tongue further into her anus. I pushed her legs further apart, exposing the hole to my oral attack even further. I was only able to get my tongue into her about two inches before pulling back out and pushing forward again. The taste of her ass was tart, but not unpleasant. The remnants of her earlier orgasms mixed with the flavor already there and encouraged me to work harder to bring her off again. With my tongue in her asshole, I began to work up more saliva that I could use as lube. Whenever I pulled out, I would catch the spit and deposit it in her bottom on the push back in. She was beginning to get into it since I could hear her moans starting anew and her own hands alternated between pinching her own nipples, holding her legs apart even further, and occasionally stroking her own clit. The approach to her last orgasm was quick and abrupt. The shock of having a tongue penetrate her asshole for the first time so soon after several orgasms probably helped. As her breathing grew ragged again, I began to get the taste of more of her cream running from her pussy down to where my tongue was now buried. To help her along, I reached up and felt for the piercing in her magic button. I rolled it gently between thumb and forefinger while getting my last licks in on her increasingly squirmy bottom. When I felt her begin to go rigid again, I squeezed her nub roughly and pulled upwards on the metal ring in her sex. I was instantly unable to keep the penetration that I had established in her ass, but I did maintain my grip on her clit. This time, as she came, she nearly came off of the couch and the amount of liquid that streamed from her gushing cunt was impossible for me to capture. "Oh, FUCK!" she gasped and clamped down on my face and hand with her thighs. I couldn't imagine a better place to be trapped and as I was held motionless between her legs, I watched her lower stomach and vagina tense and release. A short stream of clear liquid hit me right in the face as she came for the last time of the evening. Two more weaker spurts shot straight up and out of her and then the liquid dribbled down her ass crack. She spasmed one last time and lay still, catching her breath and recovering. Eventually, her thighs relaxed and I was able to move my head again. She lay still, her breathing returned to normal, and she gradually composed herself and opened her eyes. Without a word, I stood up in front of her. The blanket, which now was around my shoulders, came with me, exposing her again. My cock waved back and forth in front of me as I straightened up to my full height. Her eyes widened as if she expected a renewed assault on her now sensitive sex. I turned, picked up my clothes and began dressing. It was difficult to zip up with a protruding hard on and no underwear, but I managed and began walking towards the door. As I reached for the knob, I turned and looked back at her where she sat, exhausted, and spent. Her mouth hung open in surprise that I wasn't staying to "get mine" and she clearly was at a loss for words. I checked to see that my clothes were straight, turned back to her, and said, "That'll leave ya with plenty to think about until next time." Joyce, Across the Street Ch. 03 "...Without a word, I stood up in front of her. The blanket, which now was around my shoulders, came with me, exposing her again. My cock waved back and forth in front of me as I straightened up to my full height. Her eyes widened as if she expected a renewed assault on her now sensitive sex. I turned, picked up my clothes and began dressing. It was difficult to zip up with a protruding hard on and no underwear, but I managed and began walking towards the door. As I reached for the knob, I turned and looked back at her where she sat, exhausted, and spent. Her mouth hung open in surprise that I wasn't staying to "get mine" and she clearly was at a loss for words. I checked to see that my clothes were straight, turned back to her, and said, 'That'll leave ya with plenty to think about until next time.'" _____________________________ I've been lax in adding on to this series. The second installment of this story was submitted almost a year ago today, but even though Joyce and I have had other encounters since then, I just didn't take the time to detail them for your enjoyment. I apologize...or maybe I'm flattering myself in thinking that you'd want to read more about Joyce's hot little body and my interest in it. Twice more Joyce and I had had our fun and once, Sheila even joined in. Joyce's drinking buddy got involved after a day of oddities that ended with everyone in the sack and the two women having their first chance at lesbian love. It started when Sheila one day angrily confronted me in my garage. I looked around to see who else might see this, afraid that she would announce something inappropriate to the neighborhood and ruin what I had at home, let alone what I had with Joyce. Sheila had started in on the drinking early it seemed and as she marched across the street in her heels, I saw her stagger a bit and almost twist an ankle on the curb as she stepped out of the road into my yard. "What's wrong with you, asshole?" she fired at me. I looked up from the V-8 engine I was putting the finishing touches on and stood up straight to see what the issue was. She slowed her purposeful walk and stopped in front of me, the fire still in her eyes. "Whatever it is, lower your voice, please." I looked over my shoulder at the house, trying to make her think that my girl would hear if she had a violent outburst. Hopefully, whatever she was mad about wasn't so bad that she would jeopardize everything for me. "Oh, fuck off," she said, emphasizing the "off". "I know that your girlfriend left twenty minutes ago. 'Matter o' fact, I just saw her up at the store getting' gas." Her hands made fists and rested on her hips as she waited expectantly for me to apologize even though I still didn't know what I'd done. A mental catalogue of my wrong doings started to form in my head, or at least the wrong doings that had happened in Joyce's house that Sheila might know about. I thought to myself, "Let's see: There's the cumstain on the edge of the couch, the destroyed thong, the violation of Joyce's tiny asshole with my cock, the death of her son's fish from when Joyce's son's aquarium was once in the way of our enthusiastic fuck session, and the only other thing that I could think of was something that Joyce had told me about and we'd gotten a good laugh about. I'd gotten good at getting Joyce to secrete huge amounts of girl cum and she'd soaked a couch cushion once. Later, she told me that before she could stop her, Sheila had unknowingly sat on the wet spot, getting her skirt and ass wet in the process. But none of these justified Sheila coming into my garage and making this scene. It had to be something else than what was on my list. Well, it turned out that Sheila is a Literotica reader and was angry that I'd described in detail the two different times that Joyce and I had gotten naked. Through sheer luck, she'd found the stories and read with growing interest as she'd realized that I was describing her friend, the house, and its contents. From my descriptions, she'd concluded that I was the writer and therefore the one fucking her friend, a secret that Joyce had not shared with her. The "concern" she was currently showing was based on her initial anger at being cut out of the details of Joyce's escapades and then the anxiety towards my stories which she claimed, could also "out" Joyce and me to our neighborhood. Once I'd realized that the issue wasn't really an issue, I made the mistake of laughing at her. "That's all?" I thought. "This can't be such a huge issue that she'd march over here and confront me over it." My barely concealed laugh angered her more. Her eyes reddened but I wasn't sure if this was from the booze she'd obviously already imbibed or out of genuine frustration. "You can't be writing about her like that. Her son might see it, the neighbors might see it, hell, I saw it." I stopped laughing but I still wasn't taking it very seriously. "Don't you think? What if you had ruined her life with that crazy story?" "Crazy?" Now it was my turn to ask the questions. "What's so crazy about it? And let me ask you something now. What are you doing reading Literotica? You certainly don't scour every erotic site on the web in an effort to protect your friend. Did you get a good session out of it? Did you enjoy my writing or do you think I'm a hack?" I figured that I'd turn it back on her just to deflect all the criticism that she was aiming at me. She opened her mouth as if to speak, she stopped, and then her cheeks turned red. "Sounds to me like if you were able to find those two stories about Joyce on a site that literally has thousands of erotic tales, you might spend a bit too much time on the bed with your fingers between your legs." Her eyes widened, but I didn't let her off the hook. "Or do you use a tool? Dildo? Vibrator?" I watched her face; she wouldn't look up at me. "Maybe a knobby glass something or other sliding over and over into your slippery snatch?" Her breath caught in her throat. "Ever taste yourself? Maybe push a little something up your own butt? Do you like that? What do you fantasize about when you get yourself off? Is it a big cock ramming into you or a pretty girl sucking on your clit? What pushes your buttons, Sheila?" Apparently, she was not used to strangers speaking so frankly to her about her masturbatory habits. (Come on, I'm not a stranger. I'm her best friend's secret fuck buddy. We're practically friends.) I stepped towards her, mainly to scare her a little into thinking that it was her I wanted. Without thinking, she stepped back quickly. Too quickly in fact, because she lost her already questionable balance and started to fall backwards. I moved quickly and caught her before she fell against the Ranchero. (I'll be damned if she was going to mess up the original paint job.) "Uh, thanks." Clearly embarrassed, she turned away from me again. She gathered her wits and said, "Just watch what you write, ok?" "'Jealous that it's not about you, huh?" I joked. She reddened again and made an effort to not speak. "Don't worry, I'll write you into a story." That was it. She turned to walk away. I slapped her hard on the ass and laughed at her as she did her best to strut out of the garage. I watched her go, appreciative that even though she'd come to start a fight AND that she was a tad drunk, she was still trying to put on a show in her skirt and heels. I bent back to re-installing the carburetor on the big engine, confident that if I had no more interruptions, I'd hear it roar to life tonight. Its 36 year hiatus from propelling the big Ford around had been caused by grief stricken parents who left it parked in the garage after their only son didn't come back from Southeast Asia. Sitting in the garage unused had caused tires to rot, belts and hoses to give up, and a varnish to develop in the fuel system. I'd promised to bring it by when I had it restored, so being this close to getting it running again had me excited to not only drive it for the first time, but to show it to the nice old couple who'd practically given it to me. It was not to be. As I was turning the nut onto the last intake stud, my cell phone rang. I let it go for a minute, tightening the nut for the carburetor the rest of the way on. I looked at the phone's call identifier and saw that it was Joyce. "So much for disturbing the peace tonight," I said when I answered. Joyce clearly didn't get it, so I explained that I'd been getting ready to rend the silence in our neighborhood with the roar of 428 cubic inches of fury. My silly, juvenile explanation of my plans didn't get through to her. "What did you do to Sheila?" she asked. I laughed and said that Sheila had been over protective of her and that I'd laughed at her. "So she's probably a little offended that I didn't take her seriously or fuck her," I continued. "Well, can you come over here right now?" she asked. "Please tell me that I'm not coming over there to apologize to your goofy friend." "Goofy friend?!?" I could hear Sheila hollering in the background. Since she was clearly listening in on the phone call, I continued. "What? Is she mad that I didn't make a move on her?" Hopefully my continuous laughing was ensuring that this wasn't taken seriously. I didn't mean to insult Sheila, but this was all too funny to me. "Oh, no, now you've done it. She's going ballistic." Joyce whispered into the phone as I heard Sheila freaking out. "Could you come over?" Joyce asked. "What have you got in mind?" Since I wasn't going to get to drive the Ranchero tonight, I wanted to know what I was going to get instead. "Well, you said you wanted to disturb the peace. Come disturb my peace." "More like 'get a piece', right? What about Miss Snooty? Is she going to hang around and watch or drive home drunk?" "Uh...no. Shit. She's just opened another bottle of wine and may just pass out before we get serious at the rate she's going." "Well then, drop your drawers, Sexy. I'm on my way." When I got there, Joyce was wearing only a thin white tank top and white boxers. Bare feet and still damp hair from a recent shower made her look fresh and delectable. Sheila's outfit of a silk blouse, short skirt, and heels looked downright formal compared to Joyce's ready-for-bed wear. Since Sheila was in the other room, working on her wine where she couldn't see us, Joyce stood on dainty tip-toes and reached up to me with yearning lips. I devoured her mouth, hungrily nibbling her lips and sticking my tongue down her throat. She responded by hanging onto me more fiercely, pressing her braless tits against me and grinding her hips against mine. I pushed her away gently and without warning, stuck my right hand down the front of her boxers and quickly found her clit. I squeezed and stroked it, trying to quickly get her going without making a noise that would bring Sheila into the kitchen. Joyce's pop-nippled tits strained at the sheer tank's fabric. Her little pink nips were clearly visible and I thumbed them with my other hand as the hand in her pants brought her pussy to a slow boil. She was trying desperately to be quiet and I was trying to make her make noise. I wanted to see what Sheila's reaction would be if she walked in on us getting it on. As hard as I was just then, I was positive that I'd have enough cock to satisfy her as well. Against her protests, I quietly stripped off her two garments until the only things she wore were her toe ring, the piercing in her clit, and a pair of hoop earrings. Effortlessly, I lifted her petite form to the counter while she tried to slow me down. Her quiet protests stopped and turned to a yelp and some squirming when her bare bottom hit the cool granite counter top. My fingers returned to her clit and stroked the little piercing there, raising the little nub of flesh from its hidden spot between her labia. "Oh, God! She's gonna hear us. You're gonna make me cum. Go easy Baby!" she hissed into my ear. With her arms wrapped around my neck and me standing between her legs I was able to play with her pussy and tits. She hunched herself against my fingers and by now, her pussy juice was beginning to drip onto the counter. I looked up from Joyce's nipples and saw Sheila standing with an empty wine glass in one hand and her other hand absent-mindedly stroking herself under her skirt. When she noticed me looking at her, she stopped playing with herself immediately. Never looking away from Sheila, I kept right on fingering Joyce's soft cunt. Sheila couldn't pretend that she wasn't interested, but she made an effort to be nonchalant. After all, Joyce couldn't see her and she was trying to pretend that the scene didn't affect her for my benefit. I watched her as she picked up the bottle on the counter behind her friend, silently poured the remainder into her glass, and took a sip. I fingered Joyce's G-spot to see if I could get a noise out of her and sure enough, she moaned into my neck. "Want some of this?" I mouthed to Joyce. I didn't know what I was offering her, but if she wanted to lick Joyce, I'd move out of the way. If she wanted to suck my cock, I'd let her do that. If I could get the two of them together in some way, I was willing to go where it lead. With no answer but a negative shake of her head, Sheila turned and left the room. At the opening to the living room, she lifted her skirt a little to show me that she wasn't wearing any panties. What an ass! If I hadn't had my hands full of one hot and naked woman right in front of me, I'd have chased the other. I pushed Joyce back slowly until she was flat on the kitchen counter with her legs wrapped around my midsection. I dropped my shorts and wasting no more time, I stroked the head of my cock up and down her slit and positioned it at the entrance to her vag. She pulled her legs up just a little bit more and offered an easier entrance. "Ready?" I inquired. "Oh...yeah. Fuck me," came her answer. "But keep it down. I don't want Sheila coming in here and catching us." I didn't bother to tell her that it was too late to worry about that. I flexed my hips and gave her just the tip. Short, gasping breaths accompanied her efforts to get me to move faster. I pushed up and down her slit, but never shoved further. I reapplied my fingers to her clit, snaking my hand in between our joined crotches. She moaned louder this time and before she could finish making her noise, I stroked up and into her. Fully buried in her little cunny, I flexed my hips upward and her eyes opened wide. At this angle, I could stroke my cockhead against her G-spot all day. Instead of pulling all the way out and banging all the way back in, I made four inch strokes trying to keep the head of my rod right on her most sensitive inner spot. I worked this way for about two minutes watching her face carefully for signs of her arousal. I could see her building up to a quick orgasm. Signs that I'd learned to recognize from banging her these last few months started to show on her face. The slack jaw, the short breaths, the heaving breasts with their pinched and pink nipples, and the rippling of her stomach muscles all cried out that an impending orgasm was imminent. When I thought she was close, I pulled out and slowly rimmed the hole of her pussy with the head of my cock. I was still technically "in" her, but was now hitting a spot that didn't allow her to enjoy it as much as she had been. When she calmed down and started to look disappointed, I moved further back inside of her and worked over her G-spot again. I watched a second time as her body gave her away and the build up got close. Again, I stopped before she could fire off in ecstasy. "What are you doing to me?" she asked desperately. "I've got an ulterior motive." "What? What do you want? Geez, let me cum already." I answered, "I want to see you and Sheila together." "No. I don't think so." Hesitantly, she tried to clear her head and figure out an answer to this new request. "I don't think she'd go for it." "Leave that to me," I laughed. With that, I stroked into her harder. I worked her sensitive spot consistently and completely until she quit fighting it. Her back arched and her moaning became loud enough that it soon became apparent that she no longer cared who heard. When I saw that she was building up nicely, I stroked faster and faster until I was worried that I'd cum too. I fought it off since I had another idea, but poor Joyce succumbed to the throes of her orgasm and collapsed under me. When she lay still, I slowly pulled out of her. Her pink and red pussy slowly shrank without my member stretching it open. A small wet dollop of her secretions slowly ran down a cupboard door beneath her. She lay on her back facing the ceiling, eyes closed, sated. I left her like that and walked into the living room. Sheila had her hand beneath her skirt now, legs akimbo, and the half full wine glass in her hand. Eyes closed, she made quite a sight. Silently, I approached and stood before her. She worked quietly on her pussy. I couldn't see it since the hem of the skirt covered her crotch, but from the motions made by her hand, it was evident that she was very busy beneath it. "Interested?" I said. The sudden sound of my voice startled her out of her reverie and looking embarrassed, she removed the hand from beneath the skirt quickly. The first two fingers were wet and glistening. She tried to compose herself, but what could she say? I was standing in front of her with a slick and hard cock and she'd been caught frigging her pussy. No answer was forthcoming so I moved closer and allowed my cock to get closer to her face. "Come on, Baby. Give me a little oral." The hesitation was obvious. She'd had enough to drink that I was sure that she was considering it. I didn't know however, what she thought about having a dick in her mouth that was still wet from the pussy of her friend. Maybe she didn't know. It was now or never. Either I was going to get my chance with Joyce's hot friend or I was going to further offend her. Whatever happened, I knew I could still bang Joyce; if I could work myself into the option of sex with Sheila, or better yet, sex with both of them at once, that would be ideal. Moving closer, my cock hung a mere six inches from her face. She opened her mouth to speak and I flexed my hips forward. The wet helmet of my cock touched her lips and she didn't pull away. Repositioning myself between her legs, I stood over her and moved my cock back to her mouth. She began to suck on it slowly. I reached down and took the wine glass from her hand and released of this burden, she placed both hands on my shaft and began stroking. The head I was getting was great. If her skills were this good when she'd been drinking, I'd look forward to getting head from her while she was sober. The question remained however, would she take my cock in her mouth while it was still slick with her friend's cunt if she was sober? It's a rare thing—at least for me—to find two women who are this good at fellatio. Rarer still is getting away with cheating on my girlfriend with my neighbor AND her best friend and neither of these two minded that I was messing with the other. A rare thing indeed. But one that I was willing to exploit. I twined my hands in Sheila's hair and directed her head up and down my shaft as her lips held the suction against the length of it. I was close. The lewdness of having my cock, still wet with Joyce's cunt, buried in Sheila's pretty face was a turn on. I thought of ways that I could get the two of them together in bed with me (even though so far, Joyce and I had never made it to a bed) while she worked me over. When the image of Joyce's butt in the air over Sheila's face popped into my head, I could barely take it any more. Joyce, Across the Street Ch. 03 She suctioned up my shaft one last time I had a vision of Sheila's pussy under Joyce's tongue and that was it. I came down her throat hard. As I fired off ropes of semen into Sheila's skilled mouth, I felt another hand helping her. Joyce snuggled up behind me, naked, and pressed her tits into my back. So, maybe getting them together was more of a possibility than I'd thought. Sheila dropped both of her hands away from my spasming cock and let Joyce milk the last drops of my cum into her mouth. Looking up from where my rod pierced her face, she smiled and looked past me at her friend. "I think we've got him, Hon." Joyce, Across the Street Ch. 04 Two days later, Sheila and Joyce told me of the plan they'd hatched to turn what Joyce and I had into a threesome. When Sheila had seen my girlfriend filling up her car at the gas station, it had been in preparation for a weekend trip to her mother's three hours away. In that time, the three of us had spent almost every waking minute (and some sleeping time) naked and enjoying each other. Most of the talking had been commands, requests, and quick conversations on the phone to have food delivered. But in little dribs and drabs, the story of their plan came out. I did my part to interrupt it as often as possible. I didn't care how or why they'd decided to fuck me; I just wanted to fuck them. It turns out that not only was Sheila quite the little horndog, but that she was very submissive as well. I think like I felt it long before I knew it. My brain seemed to have sensed it in my garage and I had treated her as such. At the time, I didn't really understand it or know much about it, but I feel that Joyce was a switch with submissive tendencies. She certainly demanded things when she wanted them, but she wasn't always like that with me. She seemed to lord it over Sheila which I thought was fun to watch, but Sheila didn't seem to be able to find it in herself to ask for anything from Joyce. I'd no sooner force my cock into her mouth than she'd reach with a free hand for Sheila and pull her closer, either dragging her mouth to her nipples or simply pushing her onto her back to slide under where Joyce knelt to grind her pussy against Sheila's mouth while she serviced my cock. I grew quite used to fucking both of them, in their mouths, pussies, or asses. During that weekend, Joyce got to where she could accept my entire length, grunting and slapping her hands against the bed in an effort to let me get all the way into her tight passage. Sheila however, was another story. She offered it, but the time it took to get into her would make Joyce impatient and she would hold the woman's ass cheeks apart and tell her that "He's going to fucking rape your ass if you don't relax and let him in." I'd smack her cheeks for her and she'd cry. Joyce would laugh at her when the tears fell, but would encourage me to continue. When I would grab a fistful of Sheila's hair and pull her back towards me, she would howl at the invasion and I would fuck her slowly while Joyce would either crawl beneath her and lick her clit, forcing her to cum over and over or she'd yank on Sheila's nipples until I thought she would pull them off of her breasts. Waking up late on the second night of our weekend, I realized that I was ensconced in a tangle of arms and legs, like kittens sleeping in a box. My eyes opened and I was looking into Sheila's eyes. "How long you been awake?" I asked. "Just a few minutes," she answered. "I couldn't sleep." "And why is that?" "I am so wound up. I am really enjoying this. I didn't think when Joyce and I hatched our plan to 'trick' you into bed with us, that it would be like this." "What were you expecting?" I felt I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from her. "I thought we would take turns sucking you. I figured we'd tease you and you'd cum once and go home. I didn't..." she trailed off and averted her eyes. "Didn't what?" She was silent as she searched for the words. I moved slightly and she felt my half stiff cock stir against her leg. "Didn't think that you'd be like this. That she would be like this. That...I would be like this." "Tell me what you mean. Like what? What am I like?" I queried. "You're...bossy. I don't know how to describe it. You're demanding. You act like you are in charge, like there is no question that you're in charge...like you know that I'll do whatever you ask. And I can't understand my reactions." I answered, "Can't understand why you feel the need to allow it? To do what I say? To serve me? To submit? To let me use you roughly, how I want, when I want...to fuck you in a manner of my choosing?" My tone had changed noticeably in the course of this series of questions and I could see her eyelids get heavy as she reacted to it. Her eyes welled up and she whispered, "Oh, God, yes. That is exactly it. How is it that you know? What's going on that you know what I need? It's like you own me. I've never felt this..." My answer was to reach across my body, caress her pretty cheek, and right as her eyes began to close, I continued past her ear and wadded up a ball of her hair in my hand, pulled her head back, and kissed her hard on the mouth. "Sheila, if I wanted to own you, you'd know it...and your name would be 'Slut'. "Oh..." she started and her eyes popped open in surprise. I could tell she was dealing with a conflict of feelings and wondered if I really needed to go into the "Fifty Shades" explanation for her. I really didn't think that the dumbed down version of BDSM was appropriate at this hour however, not when I was quite tired and knowing that any explanation was going to take hours of talking, questions, and further exploration into what she felt. "Cause he's a fucking Dom, you silly cunt," hissed Joyce behind me. We'd failed to notice the blond's change in breathing so we didn't know that her slumber had been interrupted. Sheila's eyes betrayed the fact that she didn't get it, not quite yet anyway. Joyce reached across my body, grabbed her friend's hair, and pulled her down roughly in the direction of our mid-sections. Getting up to kneel on my right, she held Sheila's head inches from my cock. "See that? That's your Dom's cock. That's why he owns you. Cause you need it. Cause he knows how to use it. Because he knows how to use you. And you fucking crave it, don't you?" I was hard. Seeing Joyce take control of Sheila was new to me and I was really into seeing the "confrontation" between the two naked women. Sheila, however, didn't get to answer. Her face was pushed down, into my crotch. She opened her mouth just in time and was forced to engulf my cock. Joyce held her head and pushed her up and down on me, controlling the speed of the impromptu blowjob that I was receiving. "Like that, slut?" Joyce whispered. "Suck it. Make him cum." Two hours later, the sun was coming up and two tired girls (OK, and one tired man) were sleepily coming back to life. Joyce dragged herself out of the bed and went into the shower. I dragged Sheila closer to me and rolled her on top of me. Her sleepy, nude body was warm and I was considering spreading her wide and fucking her again, when she said, "You'd really call me Slut, wouldn't you?" Without hesitation, I said, "You're damned right." "Geez, I feel like such a slut when I think about this. When I wonder what you have planned next...what you'll do to me...I actually find myself thinking that I want it. I want to be your slut." I reached down and tweaked a nipple making her jump as I laughed. She looked very surprised that I would introduce frivolity while she was trying to explain something she considered so serious. "Tell me more," I demanded before she could get off track. "I'm perplexed, for lack of a better word," she said, "I just can't figure out why I'm acting like this. Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining. I just don't know how you've brought this out in me..." My answer to this was to use my feet to spread her legs as she lay on top of me. I could feel how wet she was, so grabbing her hips, I guided her down onto me. She slipped over my cock like a warm, silken sheath of familiarity. I'd been inside of her lots of times in the last two days, but this was very intimate. Before, I'd been fucking her. Now WE were fucking. I was taking something that I wanted and she was offering something she wanted me to have. It was very different and I believe, looking back at it, that it signaled a change in our relationship. During the long, slow buildup as she was rolling her hips to engulf me completely and I was encouraging her, Joyce came out of the bathroom, fresh from her shower. Patting her hair with a towel, she stood in the doorway and watched us. I could see out of the corner of my eye that she was there; I don't think Sheila had noticed, After all, her eyes were closed and her mouth was hanging slack. I knew that Sheila was close and I decided to try something. I took my hands off of her hips and gathered a large amount of hair in one and pulled. Her head went back, but her eyes didn't open. I saw the pleasure she was feeling in her face and then I added my other hand to her neck. I squeezed gently and watched her reaction. I knew she'd never been choked before and the surprise caused an incredible reaction. Her eyes flew open and she stared right through me. She tensed so hard that her body went rigid. I was locked into her; I couldn't have pulled out of her then if I'd wanted to. Her orgasm lasted for probably thirty seconds and I continued to hold her. "I've got you," I assured her, "Good Girl, Good Girl, that's it...cum for me." She continued to stare and her expression became glassy eyed. I watched in amazement as her body remained rigid. "That's it. I've got you. Breathe, Sheila. Breathe." It seemed like her orgasm lasted for several minutes. She began to come out of it and expression started to return to her face. She gulped huge breaths of air and began to show signs of being exerted. I held her and reassured her as awareness of her surroundings returned. She smiled broadly at me. "Where did that come from?" Joyce said from the door. Sheila blushed profusely as she realized her friend was watching her experience such bliss. "Oh, my God!" Sheila exclaimed. "Did you see me? Whaaaaaaaat happened? I...I went somewhere else." I smiled up at her as she looked down at me. She was glowing as if learning that she could have such intense orgasms was hugely gratifying to her. "Joyce, I feel so well-fucked that I may sleep for the rest of the day." "Good luck with that, Sweetie," Joyce said. We both looked at her questioningly and Joyce held up Sheila's pink cell phone. "You've got a text. 'Seems like you might have missed this last night. Your niece Eva is coming." Sheila didn't quite get it. Joyce continued, "Here. She's on her way here." "And apparently, that little slut will be here in under an hour."