1 comments/  132013 views/  7 favorites

Girl Next Door Ch. 01

By: Goldeniangel



author's note: all characters in this story are 18 years or older.

-------------------------

Jimmy watched with some shock as his next-door neighbor Miranda jumped into her pool, stark naked. He was house-sitting for some of his parent's friends and he'd just met Miranda yesterday when she'd been saying goodbye to her parents - who had left for the week for their wedding anniversary. She'd been pretty cute yesterday and he'd been eager to meet her acquaintance, especially since they both would have completely empty houses this summer! Finding out that she didn't have a boyfriend had been an extra bonus. They'd talked about how nice it was to be away from the ever watchful eye of their parents and he'd hoped to get to know her better over the summer... well his eyes were getting to know her much better right now!

Completely naked and glistening she swam around, her chest rather buoyant in the water. Feeling himself get hard he reached down into his pants, wishing that he had a pair of binoculars to watch her with... really get a good look at her body. Damn but she was gorgeous... especially totally naked. He watched her swim for quite awhile, pumping his dick every couple of seconds, but really just trying to enjoy the whole experience. It wasn't often that something like this happened to him. She was glistening wet, the kind of thing that you'd see in a dirty magazine or something, with the water dripping off of her.

When she got out to get on the diving board he thought that all his dreams must be coming true... she bounced a couple of times on the end, her naked breasts flopping up and down, before she did a high jump in the air and dove into the water. Several times she did this, her gorgeous breasts and ass jiggling all over the place and driving him absolutely wild! Every time she got out of the pool the water poured off her body, leaving her wet and slick in the sunlight... and then, God bless her, she'd be up on the diving board again, bouncing away.

It was like watching "Girls Gone Wild"... the only thing that would be better was if she was on a trampoline. Or if he was closer and had an even better view... when she jumped upwards and did the splits midair, rather than a dive, he thought he was going to die as her pussy split apart, pink wetness in the center. Gorgeous, well-endowed AND flexible... not to mention that she was swimming naked in her backyard in the middle of the day! He tried pinching himself just to make sure he wasn't dreaming - not that he was sure he wanted to wake up if he was. As dreams went, this would have been one of his best ones yet! Finding out that he was definitely not dreaming and this was actually happening was possibly the best discovery he'd ever made in his life.

When she got out and walked over to the lawn chair on the side of the pool he felt rather sad until she sat down and he realized that she was going to be staying out for awhile. His heart leapt into his throat when she pulled out some baby oil and began rubbing it on her body, over her neck and arms, her chest and stomach and legs... her breasts she payed especial attention to he thought. Or maybe he just liked to think that she had payed special attention. But as he watched her hands slowly slid back up to those pretty tits, caressing the skin and rubbing the oil into it more firmly.

He thought about how firm and slick they must be right now and wondered what it would be like to squeeze them together and fuck them with his dick. Probably oily and slick, letting him slide back and forth in that valley of flesh... he pictured her open lips taking the head of his dick every time he pushed all the way through. Pausing for a moment he went quickly and found his own baby oil, bringing it back to the window with him and rubbing it on his hands before fisting his dick again. Looking back out the window he almost fell over... she was playing with her nipples! 

Feeling like a million bucks he pictured sliding his dick through that cleavage while she held them tight together, playing with her nipples. Her fingers slid all over the little nubs, even twisting... as his hand slowed on his dick so that he could catch his breath and get some control back, he realized that he could hear her faintly moaning. Damn that was hot...

Watching in disbelief, he moaned along with her as one of her hands slid down her stomach to her pussy, gliding over the shaved mound and into that pink slit. He could see her hand working up and down rubbing against the juicy lips as she masturbated. Lifting her hips as she played with her clit, Miranda was starting to get hot and heavy into her self-pleasuring, putting on the best show that he'd ever seen in his life. Her moans were much louder now and he could see her fingers curving to actually slide inside that pink pussy. 

They disappeared into her hot pussy hole, invading it and stretching it open... squeezing his dick, he imagined what it would be like to slide into there, going much deeper than her fingers would be able to. As she began to move her hips, her fingers sliding back and forth in the slickness, his eyelids lowered a little, so that he could imagine it was his dick thrusting into her wetness. Miranda's body glistened and heaved, her skin glowing in the sunlight, shiny with the oil that she'd rubbed onto herself. The oil on his dick was allowing him to glide over it, it felt incredibly good, he tried to imagine the the slickness was really the wet juices of her pussy...

As Jimmy watched, she began to ram her fingers into her pussy harder and harder, the hand on her breast becoming almost brutal in its treatment of her nipple; his own hand picked up speed in response to her heavy pants and quick movements. Her face became impassioned with lust, and her entire body seemed to arch as she started to cum, her moans reaching a high-pitched peak that made his balls ache. As she thrashed on the lawn chair, her fingers buried deep in her pussy, he squeezed his dick hard and started to cum; imagining that he was blowing his load all over her tanned body, covering her stomach and breasts with white streaks of cum.

Sighing in contentment, the ache in his groin gone, he just watched as she lounged some more, wiping her fingers off on the towel next to her. Leaning on the window sill he just admired his neighbor's body, happily contemplating the kind of summer he could have house-sitting here! First things first, he was going to need to find a pair of binoculars. 

When Miranda started to get up, he stood up in the window, and for a moment it looked as though she was looking up at him. He quickly jumped to the side, out of view, with his heart pounding madly in his chest... waiting a few moments, he carefully turned to the side and looked out there. She was gathering up her things, showing no sign at all that she'd seen him watching her... more cautiously now, he stood and watched her breasts and ass jiggle as she walked back towards her house.

The front of his pants was starting to feel a little tight again, but he ignored it. There wasn't any eye candy anymore, and at any rate, he was more interested in finding some binoculars just in case she did something like this again! 

Girl Next Door Ch. 01



I saw her red hair first, a flash of color against the green and gray of the yard and driveway next door. From my bedroom window, I looked down. 

A green tank top tugged at a set of small, pert breasts. White shorts swished over long, slender legs and the tight curve of her rump. And that hair, that flaming splash of red in the morning sun...

An ache spread through my chest. Butterflies fluttered, twisting my stomach. 

I was just out of high school, college an incoming blur of a dream now looming before me as reality, only summer standing as a buffer between me and it, and I fell in love at first sight. 

When I made my way downstairs, my parents were peeking out the blinds like a couple of voyeurs. Through the slit their fingers made, I could see the bold blue lettering of the moving van next door. 

"Look at that sofa! God, that's nice. At least they have good taste," my mom commented with knowing approval. 

"Spying on them already?" I said. I grabbed the box of cereal that one of them had left on the counter and shook it. It sounded full, so I started looking around for a bowl. 

My parents turned to acknowledge me, but Mom went right back to window after sending an exaggerating roll of the eyes my way. Her hair was pulled back, and I noticed a streak of gray that I couldn't remember seeing before. They were getting old. In turn, I felt old. College, real life, gray hair, that was what awaited me in the adult world. 

That could be me one day, my entertainment relegated to sneaking glances at the neighbors moving in next door. It was depressing shit.

Dad seemed embarrassed to have been caught spying. He stalked away from the window and took a seat at the kitchen table. He was unshaven, and his hair was a messy mop of brown at the top of his head. 

"Sleep well?" he asked.

I shrugged. Having found a clean bowl in the cabinet, I poured a bit of cereal and milk into it. I took the seat across from Dad. I tried not to think about the girl, but her image was embedded in my brain. I wondered what might be in the box she had been carrying. Decorations for her room? Stuffed animals? Things of a more personal nature? 

"Spoon?" Dad offered, and I accepted. Distracted, I had forgotten to get one for myself.

After munching a milky bite and swallowing, I said, "Going to go meet them?"

Dad nodded in reply. Mom couldn't tear her eyes away from the window long enough to respond. 

Dad said, "After a shower. Don't want to give them the wrong first impression we're a bunch of unhygienic scurve-balls." 

I raised my eyebrows. "Who says that's the wrong first impression?"

He chuckled in reply and shook his head. But he was right. We needed to shower. I planned on looking my best when I met the girl next door. Just thinking about her, I felt an awkward tightness in my chest. 

This was not my first crush, but I had never felt like this. Especially not with a girl I had never even met. 

After my shower, I took a moment to check myself out in the mirror. My wet hair lay plastered on my forehead; my cool blue eyes stared beneath it. I thought my eyes were my best feature; someone had once told me that they were piercing. I really took that to heart. If there was any part of me to physically win over the girl next door, I figured it would be my eyes. 

I moved my eyes down. My abs looked fine. I ran track, so no problems there. Biceps were also decent. If she liked muscles, I was in pretty good shape both literally and figuratively. I didn't want to be arrogant, but I knew that a lot of girls at school thought I was cute. By no means was I a perfect physical specimen, but I was far from a dog. 

When I met her, the girl with the red hair, the biggest thing was to just not be an asshole. 

This had been a problem for me in the past, at least according to my ex-girlfriends. The biggest problem I had with my girlfriends was the fact I often became interested in other girls. I had no excuse. My excuse was that I was a man and in high school and desirable. This, apparently, made me an asshole.

"Don't be an asshole," I told my reflection. In return, my mirror-image doppelganger winked back at me. 

They were still moving boxes when I went outside with my parents to greet them. I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I hadn't felt a rush like that probably since my first track meet. I didn't know if it was nerves or just anxious excitement. Either way, I felt a little bit shaky. 

I walked towards her, held out my hands, and said, "Do you want some help?" 

A pair of hazel eyes blinked over the top of a cardboard box, and I heard her reply, "Uh, I... uh, sure, yeah."

The box was thrust in my direction, and I took it. Now that it was out of her hands, I could see her clearly. She was even more beautiful that I had thought when I'd first seen her from my second story window. Her complexion was fair, and a light smatter of freckles dotted her nose. Her eyes were bright and intelligent. Her lips were full. I wanted to kiss her then and there. 

I must have been staring because she smiled and motioned behind me, "The house is that way, Helper-boy." Her smile lit up her face, and her teeth were a line of straight pearls. She headed away, and I followed, careful not to allow my eyes to rest on the firm, round bottom restrained by her white shorts.

"I'm Matt. From next door," I said. She turned, her lips curled in an amused smile.

"Maddy." She made her way up the porch steps and opened the front door for me. I thought that I could tell by the way she looked at me that she didn't hate what she was seeing, was maybe even pleasantly surprised. 

I set down the box. Then we made our way outside and started all over again. This became the routine for the next hour or so, and by the time we were done, I was lathered with a sheen of sweat and so was Maddy. Curls of her red dark stuck to the nape of her neck. Our parents had retired to the parlor, or what the Maddy's parents called a "parlor," anyway. Honestly, I didn't know what a parlor was, but that's where we found them seated on a set of matching couches. 

"I'm sure Matthew would be more than willing to help you get that pool cleaned out," my Mom was offering on my behalf as Maddy and I approached. Usually, I hated when she volunteered my services, but this time, I didn't mind so much. I'd accept any excuse to give me more time to get to know Maddy. 

"That would be wonderful," Maddy's mother replied. She was a good-looking woman in jeans and a white t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, but it was obvious that Maddy's red hair was inherited from her mother. However, her mom's hair was not as rich, a bit browner than red, more of an amber. 

"Would you mind, Matt?" this came from Dad, looking out for me as always. Dad knew I hated when Mom assumed I'd be more than happy to do whatever they told me. Dad had run a comb through his hair, but next to Maddy's dad, he still looked relatively homeless in his wrinkled red polo shirt and khakis. 

Maddy's dad was movie-star handsome. He had dark brown hair and a square jaw. He filled his shirt with muscles. I couldn't help but notice Mom's lingering, admiring glances towards him. She'd hidden her gray streak under an Atlanta Braves ball cap. She kept twirling her finger through the curls around her ear like the girls did at school. I felt bad for Dad. 

"No, sure. I mean, that'd be fine," I stuttered my way through a response. The adults went back to small talk, and after a moment, Maddy nudged me in the ribs with a bony elbow. I turned towards her, and she motioned out of the room with her chin. I nodded and followed her into a spacious kitchen area. 

She perched on a tall stool, and I took the one next to her. I couldn't help noticing how lean her legs were, and I wondered if she played any sports. I wouldn't mind seeing her in a tennis skirt. 

"Madeline Tasker," she said and held out her hand. "We exchanged first names, but I think it's time for a formal introduction." I took the hand, and we shook. 

"Matthew Holt," I said with a chuckle. It felt very silly to be shaking hands like a bunch of old English gentleman. Maddy must have seen the humor, too, because she couldn't contain a snicker. I had a vague feeling that she was making fun of me, but I let it go. 

Maddy hopped off the stool and opened a box. She pulled out two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. 

"What are you doing?"

"We're going to have a toast," she said. "A welcome home toast."

I didn't protest despite the fact that my parents would have killed me if they walked into the kitchen and saw us drinking whiskey. They were no fans of underage drinking, no matter how responsible or who the chaperones might be. It would probably destroy any chance I had of having their approval for pursuing Maddy. They were old-fashioned that way, I suppose, but they were good parents. I mean, at least they cared enough to give a shit.

Maddy poured us two shots and handed me one. She held hers up, and so did I. Sunlight glinted off the rim of my glass. 

"Matthew," she said. "I have the feeling that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." 

The next day, they had me cleaning out the pool. 

If you've ever done pool work, you know it's not an easy job. Not when a pool has been neglected for several months and allowed to fill with debris and algae and all manner of wildlife, both alive and dead. I spent most of the morning with a net, pulling dripping pile after pile of dead wet leaves from the bottom and dumping them into black trash bags. 

"Hey, there." I heard her before I saw her, and I turned towards the voice. I wiped my brow with the back of my wrist, smearing sweat across both. She approached, smiling and looking achingly sexy in a flowery top held up by spaghetti-stings across her shoulders and a pair of tiny, ass-hugging green shorts. She had a glass of water in one hand, and she held it towards me.

"Thought you might like this," she said.

"Thanks."

The water was cold and delicious, and I had a long swallow. I drained it before I could stop myself. I handed the empty glass back to Maddy. Condensation dripped, and my hand felt wet. 

"Mom thinks you're cute," Maddy said with an impish grin. I smiled back, unable to help myself. If I had her mom's approval, I was as good as gold. Good girls always wanted their parents' approval, and Maddy looked like your generic good girl, if hotter than most. Of course, a good girl might not be wearing such tight, tiny shorts. I took a moment to appraise them. 

"Hard work?" Maddy asked. 

I nodded. "Yeah, but it should get easier when I get these leaves and stuff out." 

"You can say "shit" in front of me. I'm not a goody-goody," she replied.

"What?"

"You said, 'leaves and stuff.' I can tell you wanted to say, 'leaves and shit.' You can say, 'shit.' It's not going to offend me."

"Oh, ok. So it'll get easier when I get these leaves and shit out."

"You can also say, 'ass, fuck, cunt,' whatever. You're not going to shock me," she said and looked at me as if to gauge a reaction. I was a little shocked, but I didn't show it. I didn't expect her to talk to me- a guy she barely knew- like that. I was interested in seeing where she was going with this. 

"If anything," she continued, "I'm going to shock the... fuck... outta you!" She laughed and wheeled away on her heels before I could respond. 

"Where are you going?"

"Out! Gotta get my shop on. Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it," Maddy said and threw me a wink. Then she disappeared inside the house. I stood there, watching the door for awhile, thinking about her. Already, she had me intrigued.

With a sigh, I turned back to the pool and splashed in the net. 

Once I had most of the leaves and shit out, I sealed the bags I had filled and lugged them to the side of the house. My arms and back felt sore. It had been more work than I expected. I rubbed some feeling back into my neck and knocked on the glass door at the back of the house with my free hand.

Mrs. Tasker, Maddy's mom, slid the door open with a beaming smile. 

"Oh, thank you, Matthew. You're such a help," she said. She wore a tank top that clung to her ample breasts and a pair of running shorts that ended high on her tanned thighs, and I had to force my eyes to stay on her face as she led me inside the house. In the kitchen, she turned towards me.

"How can we ever repay you?" 

"Don't sweat it," I replied. "I'll be back tomorrow to dump in some chemicals and see if we can start clearing it up." 

"How much do you need for them?" she asked. I told her, and she wrote a check, leaning over the kitchen counter, giving me a clear view of anything and everything I might like to see down her shirt. And trust me, there was plenty to see. 

I wanted to feel like a creep, ogling Maddy's mom that way I was, but I was also a hormonal eighteen-year-old, fresh out of high school. I couldn't help myself. 

Finally, she stood up and gave me the check. 

"I sure wish there was something I could do to thank you," she said, and I thought I heard a sly implication in her words. What that implication was, it was hard to tell through the haze of vivid fantasies that immediately came to mind. I suddenly realized that Mr. Tasker and Maddy were both gone, and I was alone with this woman. 

I saw an image of her breasts in my face and her riding me hard on the couch, her ass clenching, my mouth latched onto a round, pink nipple. I felt my cock hardening, and I desperately tried to turn my thoughts off. If I got a boner in front of Maddy's mother, I'd have to kill myself from the shame. 

"No problem," I said, feeling tightness in my chest and another kind of tightness in my shorts. "Anytime." 

Somehow, I made it out of there without embarrassing myself. 

That night, the ring tone on my cell phone woke me up. I groaned, rubbed my eyes, and checked the time on the flashing light of my phone as it chirped a classic rock tune I had downloaded. It was after midnight, and the number was Maddy's. We had exchanged cell numbers the day before. 

I flipped open the phone and mumbled a pathetic version of hello. 

"My mom says she's going to fuck you," Maddy said. 

It's hard to describe my reaction. I don't want to write it like a cliché. You know, the heart stopping, time stopping, that kind of thing. But if there is one thing I know happened, it's that my breath caught in my throat. My mind raced, but I told myself to play it cool. I tried to get my thoughts in order, to rationalize the situation. She was joking with me, pulling my leg. If there was one thing about Maddy I had learned, it was that she seemed to enjoy messing with me. 

Only seconds had passed, but they had seemed painfully long before I responded. I decided to not even humor her with a response to her statement. Instead, I changed the subject. 

"Maddy, why are you calling me in the middle of the night?" 

"Because I thought you'd like to know that tomorrow when you're done playing with the pool, my mother wants to play in your pants," she said, a giggle punctuating her sentence. 

"What are you talking about?"

"Dude, I don't know how to make it much clearer for you. Let's try this. My mommy, yeah, she wants you to take your hard penis and slide it into her vagina. And then she wants you to move it in and out until you explode. Does that make it more, like, understandable?"

"Maddy, I mean... why are you telling me this?" I said. Despite the hour, despite the absurdness of what she was saying, my cock had responded, and my mind had filled with the thought of her mom, tanned and curvaceous Mrs. Tasker, taking me inside of her. I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, my heart thundering and my cock rock-hard. 

"I told you that I was going to shock the fuck out of you, and I totally am. Tomorrow, babe, it's just the beginning," Maddy said and hung up. Her voice seemed to echo in my mind and in the throb of my pulse in my ears, my chest, my cock. 

I told myself it was just a joke. She was fucking with my head. 

But it was a long time before I managed to fall back asleep.

The next day, as I dumped in a variety of chemicals meant to clear up the pool and vacuumed the bottom of it through the dark swirl of contaminated water, I had a hard time not thinking about what Maddy had told me. I hadn't seen her all day. Her mom said she'd gone to pick some things up. Speaking of which, when she had let me in that morning, I had taken an extra moment to observe Mrs. Tasker. She didn't act strange or different. She didn't come on to me like some horny Mrs. Robinson. In fact, I couldn't pick up any signals that what Maddy had said was true.

So it was with something verging on disappointment that I went about my work. The sun baked me good, and I feel burned and crispy by the time I finished vacuuming and putting all the equipment away. I was hot, sweaty, and tired. I walked to the sliding glass door and knocked to let Maddy's mom know that I was done for the day. 

No answer. I knocked again, louder this time. Still, there was no answer. With a sigh and a quickening of the heart, I slid the door open and poked in my head.

"Hello?" 

"Here," she called from a far room. 

I went in, closed the door behind me, and followed the voice. The house was a refreshing blast of cool, air-conditioned air after the sweltering humidity outside. To say that I didn't know what was coming would be a lie, but I still did not fully believe what Maddy had told me was true. Things like that just didn't happen, not in real-life, not outside an adult film or Hollywood teen-sex comedy. Still, as a rather naïve and horny eighteen-year-old, I had my hopes. 

"Mrs. Tasker?"

"Here."

I pushed open a door. She was on a bed, sitting up so that her back was against the headboard. 

I swallowed. A growing lump worked its way up my throat. My heart raced. 

She wore a see-through red nightie, a matching garter, shiny red boots, and not much else. Her round breasts looked full and ripe, stretching the fabric of the nightie so that I could see her pointing nipples. Her amber hair spilled down her neck and spooled over her shoulders. 

I went hard, my cock like a soldier who had snapped to attention at a moment's notice. 

"Time to pay you for your services, young man," she cooed. 

I didn't question what was happening. To open my mouth, to consider it too long in my mind, it would break the spell. I only wanted this wonderful waking dream to continue. 

She beckoned me with a long finger, and her pink tongue slipped out to wet her lips. Like an obedient zombie, I went to her. She moved, lying on her stomach, her head at the side of the bed, level with my crotch. I stopped when my zipper was parallel with her red-lipsticked lips. My cock had pitched a silly-looking tent in my shorts. Mrs. Tasker looked pleased.

"Oh, my," she said. "You'd better take that monster out of its cage." 

Feeling slightly dizzy, I unzipped my shorts. My hands tremored, just a bit, as I pulled out my engorged shaft. I couldn't believe this was happening. My cock hadn't felt so hard in my life. 

"Mmmmm, may I kiss it?" Maddy's mom asked, looking up at me with shiny green eyes. 

I croaked something that was supposed to be a yes, and she must have understood because a moment later, I felt her lips at the side of my erection. Her tongue darted out, licked me. I shivered in pleasure. I wanted to clench my eyes shut, wanted to relish the feeling, but I forced them open, forced them to watch. It was as if I turned away, if I blinked, it might all disappear. 

When I felt her lips slip over the head of my penis, I sucked in air between clenched teeth. My mouth felt dry, and the lump in my throat hardened. It was really happening. Maddy's mom was sucking my dick, and it felt AMAZING. In spite of the air conditioning, I felt a new line of sweat beading on my brow. 




Girl Next Door Ch. 01



With one hand, she began to stroke me into her mouth. Her lips encased the head of my cock, sucked, went deeper, licked, slid up, again sucked the head. My knees felt weak. 

She took me out of her mouth and asked, "You're not an early spender, are you?"

I gulped. "N... no."

Then she slurped me to my root. Desperately trying to live up to my words, I noticed my surroundings for the first time. Mirrors were on every wall. I could see Maddy's mom's head bobbing up and down on me from every possible angle by glancing about the room and examining our reflection. I looked up. A gigantic mirror hung over the bed on the ceiling. I could see me staring up at it, the rhythmic motion of Mrs. Tasker's head, and the swell of her bottom as she leaned down towards me. It looked like something out of a porn video, only starring me in the role of John Holmes. 

Who were these people? 

At the moment, I didn't care. They could be swingers, nymphos, or sexual deviants. Maddy's mom could hand-cuff me, whip me, gag me. She was everything a man could want. Well, everything a man could want except Maddy.

This turned my thoughts to her. Would Maddy hold this against me? I remembered her phone call from the night before. Her words: "This is just the beginning." 

No, she wouldn't hold it against me. A part of me understood she WANTED me to do her mom. Or so I told myself, so I could keep feeling her mother's mouth on my cock. 

I closed my eyes and felt how good Mrs. Tasker blew me. A hand cupped my balls, caressed them. Another stroked me with deft experience, fingers moving in tandem with her mouth. Her tongue twisted, licked, tickled me. It was incredible. 

I must have gotten a little shaky because Mrs. Tasker said, "Why don't you have a seat before you fall down, sweetie?" 

I did so. The entire room seemed to spin a little. Mrs. Tasker draped her arms over my shoulders. She moved behind me, started rubbing my chest. I felt her by my ear; her tongue flicked my lobe. I shivered. Her words were warm, breathy whispers.

"Would you like to taste me?" 

My face felt flushed, my checks glowing hot and red. I nodded. Mrs. Tasker- I now realized that I seriously did not know her first name- pushed me back on the bed. She maneuvered over me, and before I understood what she was doing, she was sitting on my face. My tongue came out, lapped, licked, and I heard Maddy's mom respond above me with a gasping murmur. She bent over, and I felt her mouth on me again. 

I was sixty-nineing her! 

Yes, an adolescent response, certainly, what with the exclamation point and all. But at the time, the thought of giving mutual oral sex with any girl was preposterous. The girls at school talked a big game, but when it came to the business, they were as shy and awkward as anyone else. I didn't know that people did this kind of stuff outside of the movies. Yes, a naïve worldview, I know, but don't act like you knew everything at eighteen either. Even the experienced kids my age didn't know what they were doing half the time. 

Mrs. Tasker seemed to be getting wetter and wetter, which I assumed meant she was enjoying herself. I was silently thankful that I was doing enough to keep her interested and make this last. I toyed with her clitoris with my hand, my fingers blindly twirling and flicking, hoping that something (anything!) I was doing was good stuff. My tongue continued to dart out and wet her labia and the area around her vagina, doing its best to insert itself inside whenever possible. 

She tasted good, not like the few other girls I had tasted before. She was sweet, tangy, delicious. 

"Ok, boy. Time to show you what fucking a real woman is like," Mrs. Tasker said, and she lifted away from my head. I heard something rip, and I peeled my eyes open long enough to see her pulling out a condom and then rolling it down the length of my erection. I was afraid to keep my eyes open too long. With Mrs. Tasker's stacked body: her large, voluptuous breasts, her toned stomach, her lean legs, I knew I didn't stand much of a chance at not "spending early" as she had put it. 

When she took me in hand, climbed on top of me, and slowly lowered herself down the whole of my cock, my eyes clenched shut, and I gritted my teeth. The pleasure was amazing. She was so tight, it was electric. My body shivered with warm tingles. Slowly, slowly, she began to glide on me, our stomachs touching, our genitals grinding against each others. 

"Look at you," she said, and I slid my eyes open. She was staring down at me with an amused smile and glittering green eyes. "I thought a boy like you could take this, but look at you. You about to die, aren't you?" 

"Feels good," I breathed in response. Mrs. Tasker laughed. It was a wonderful sound, full-throated and sincere, not the self-restrained cackle of my own mother. I couldn't help but join in. I almost wished the boys at school could see me now: balls deep in one of the hottest women I had ever seen. They'd be eating their hearts out. 

Still laughing, she increased the pace, moaned, and finally said, "Let's see just what you can take, pool boy." 

And then she started fucking me real hard. 

Our bodies met with wet smacks. I gasped for air every time she came down with a savage grunt. Her breasts bounced, out of control, and my mouth watered, wanting to kiss, lick, suck them. Her face held an expression of intense challenge; her eyes bore into mine. I focused on them, on the bright sparks of green fire that seemed to twinkle within them, and kept my mind off the unbearable pleasure that she slammed into me, time and time and time again. 

You know that expression, "beaten with an ugly stick?" This was like being hit with a pleasure stick, and I was about to pass out from the beat-down. 

I had on my hands on her hips, just above the curve of her bottom. Every time she crashed down on me, I could feel her round ass jiggle, and it was so hot that it brought tears to my eyes. 

"Good boy, good boy," she repeated like a mantra as she devastated me with her sex. It was too much, the sight of her. Her hair bobbing at her shoulders, the breasts going up and down and up and down like twin nodding orbs, her tight toned abs shiny with sweat, it all added up to my inevitable end. 

"I think I am going to cum," I managed between gnashed teeth. 

"Me too," she responded and uttered a low, guttural moan as she bucked uncontrollably, my cock caught in the wild jostling tightness of her womanhood. 

My entire body clenched and released. 

I cried out something like: "GAAAAAH!"

I felt the tension in every muscle over the extent of my body peak and then explode and flood out the head of my erect penis, spurting and squirting and flowing out of me, leaving only gasping relief in its wake. My face was lathered with sweat. My thighs and abdomen ached, felt surprisingly sore. 

I took me a moment before I heard the clapping. I had no idea how long it had gone on, how long I had lain there in a dizzy haze with Mrs. Tasker still on top of me, also heaving long breaths, our juices cooling and drying between us. I fluttered my eyes open and turned my head towards the sound. 

Maddy stood in the doorway, a smile curling the ends of her lips, giving us dry applause. I couldn't help but notice that the button at the top of her shorts was undone, revealing a strip of pink underwear underneath. I worked my tongue in my dry throat, wanting to ask:

How long have you been watching us? Were you touching herself during? 

At the thought of these questions, I felt my softening penis twitch within Mrs. Tasker. But I was too exhausted, my head too swirly, to make out the words. Instead, I just looked at her and wanted. 

Maddy grinned and said, "Now that was hot."

And then she winked. She was right. It was only the beginning. 



Girl Next Door Ch. 01



Among other things, the following contains a scene of male masturbation. If that's going to bother you, skip to chapter 2. As should be obvious from the text, all characters are at least 18.

If you enjoy, comments are always appreciated, and don't forget to rate it! Thanks.

Chapter 01: Poolside

I have always had a bit of a strange response when someone uses the phrase "the girl next door". I know what people mean by it, of course, a girl who's pretty but seems attainable. My answer has always been, "You know, even supermodels live next to someone."

There is of course, a reason for my answer. Her name is Patricia. I've always called her Trish, she prefers it to Pat, and has always hated Patty. I've known her my whole life. I mean that in the most literal possible sense. We grew up as next door neighbors, but to say we knew each other from a young age is an understatement. We were born the same day. Her mother went into labor almost immediately after watching my mother be driven off to the hospital.

As kids, we were friends. As we got older, she was always my best friend, and I was hers. Strangely enough, since her folks sent her off to Catholic school and I went public, we were never in the same school after kindergarten, but outside of school, we always saw a lot of each other. We would talk to each other about things we wouldn't mention to anyone else. I held her hand, literally and figuratively, through every idiot boyfriend and heartbreak, she helped me through everything from my parent's divorce to my first hangover. Through high school there was never anything romantic between us, we were more like a particularly close brother and sister than anything else. 

Now, I said there was never anything romantic in our relationship, but I'm still a guy, and I'm not blind. It had not escaped my notice as we grew up that Trish is gorgeous, and I will admit that she had been the subject of more than a few of my masturbatory fantasies. She was even in a few commercials as a kid, but she never had an interest in doing that stuff for a career.

The status quo in our relationship held for years, until the summer after high school, when things started to change. It was a few days after both of us turned 18, early August, and the middle of a nasty heat wave. Temperatures had hit triple digits for a week straight. Fortunately, we had a refuge from the heat. Trish's parents had an in-ground swimming pool in the back yard, and I had an open invitation to make use of it, since I was also the one who took care of the basic maintenance on it.

On this particular day, Trish and I had been hanging out in her pool for a while, splashing around, cooling off, and generally having a good time. She was wearing a dark blue bikini. Nothing particularly skimpy, but she still looked amazing in it. I had a baggy pair of board shorts. That is where the problem started.

If one was being generous, they could say I've always been slender. That's almost true. Skinny is a more descriptive term. I had started to fill out a little at that point, but there still wasn't much to me. At 5'8", I barely topped 120 pounds at that point in my life. Like I said, skinny. For my lack of muscle mass, I was pretty fit though.

Trish and I had been messing around in the pool for a while, when I decided to get fancy with the diving board. I'd gotten to the point where I could pull off a few tricks off the board pretty well, and, I admit, I was showing off.

Trish was clinging to the side of the deep end of the pool, I was up on the diving boar and yelled a quick, "Hey, watch this one!" Two quick running steps on the board and a front flip into the pool followed. I didn't hit the water right though. Actually, I hit it too right, my body entering like an arrow, my hands pointed above my head.

The reason this was a problem was the baggy shorts, which were not tied tightly enough to keep their grip on my near-nonexistent hips. I plunged through to the bottom, my shorts stayed on the surface. I wasn't quick enough to stop them, and I came to the surface about ten feet from where they were. 

Or, I should say, where they should have been. By the time I came up and wiped the water out of my eyes so I could see where my mixing clothing had gotten to, and turned so I was pointed in the right direction, Trish had already gone into mischievous action. She had swum the few feet from the wall to my floating clothing, grabbed them, and headed back to the wall. She was hauling herself out of the pool, my shorts in hand, and laughing as I yelled, "Hey!"

She backed away from the pool, grinning down at me with her perfect smile, and laid my shorts on one of the deck chairs. "Just come and get them."

I looked up at her with a mixture of annoyance, trepidation, excitement. Annoyance is the easy one to explain, she'd just run off with my shorts. The other two take a little more thought. Trepidation because I've always been a little shy, and the last time Trish had seen me naked, both of us had been too young to care more than the extent of 'hey, yours doesn't look like mine', and I had not had great experiences with the very few girls who had seen me naked in the recent past.

As I've said before, I was pretty scrawny at that age. Add scrawny plus shy, plus the fact that my closest friend went to a different school, and it's easy to add up that I wasn't exactly the most popular kid in high school. I had some friends, but none all that close. I'd dated a few girls, but only two relatively serious. But one part of me was anything but scrawny, and my total lack of body fat only added to that. 

The first time I was with a girl and things got to the point where my pants came off, her words were, and I quote, "No fucking way. That thing is not coming near me. You'd split me in half." The second girl was, in a way, worse. She had been all too happy to see what I was packing. I lost my virginity to her, but afterwards she got to be smothering, and everything was about the sex. Maybe I wasn't your typical teenager, but even then I didn't want to feel like I was just a walking sex toy for someone.

Back to the story. I was treading water, naked, and looking up and my oldest, dearest friend, who held the ultimate power of being the person who had my shorts. That was the trepidation, that I wasn't sure I was comfortable with getting out of the water and letting her see me.

Then there was the excitement, a feeling I tried hard to deny to myself at the time, but which was definitely there. The girl I'd been fantasizing about for years had just effectively asked to see me naked. OK, it wasn't an overtly sexual situation, and she seemed to be teasing me (non-sexually) more than flirting with me, but I still had an incredibly gorgeous girl standing by the side of the pool looking down at me.

I guess I should take a moment here to describe the girl who was looking down at me with a wicked sparkle in her eyes. She was a little taller than me, somewhere between 5'9" and 5'10". She had a perfect, at least to me, face. Her mouth was full without being overtly provocative, and expressive. Whatever she was feeling, she showed it openly. Her nose and chin were finely carved, well formed and neither too large nor too small for her face. She had a high forehead, long, wavy, honey-gold hair, and a pair of eyes that were large, long-lashed, and the most shocking emerald green I've ever seen that didn't come from contacts.

Then, of course, there was the body, which was enough to make any guy with eyes want to drool. She was trim, athletic, with nothing over-exaggerated, but everything in perfect shape. Her arms were long and lean, her waist narrow, but flaring into hips that were pleasingly wide from bone structure and muscle, not fat. Her chest was, again, at least to my mind, perfect, her breasts large enough to be a handful, small enough to ride high and perky with no sign of droop. Her legs were long, lean, and tapered down from strong thighs to narrow ankles and surprisingly small feet.

Eventually, I came to a decision on what I would do, but I made token resistance, calling out to her, "Come on, just give 'em back, OK? Please?" The way she smiled at me in answer let me know she was not going to relent, and she recognized my sigh as the acquiescence it was. I swam easily over to the ladder, considered for a moment trying to haul myself out and cover up at the same time, and decided against it. If she was going to provoke this, she was going to get the full show.

Although the cool water had the anticipated effect on my member, the twinge of excitement at the situation was enough to counteract it. If anything, it probably made me look even bigger than I am since it pulled my balls up tight to my body. With one last sigh of internal preparation, I set my hands on the railings of the ladder, and pulled myself out of the water, stepping quickly up onto the pool deck.

There was a challenging gleam in Trish's eye, and a little smirk on her mouth, when she saw both my hands on the ladder. Apparently she'd thought I'd go through the awkward motions of pulling myself up with one hand and covering up with the other, but she wasn't backing down since I'd decided to go the other route.

So, up onto the pool deck I went, my eyes locked on Trish's face, wanting to watch her reaction, wondering if, and how, this moment would change my relationship to the girl who had always thought of me as her brother. As the water sheeted away from my body and I stepped clear of the ladder, Trish's fiercely green eyes went wide, and her mouth went into a little 'O', which she quickly covered with one hand.

Somehow, the balance of power in the situation had just tipped, and I just smiled at her, crossing my arms over my chest as I said, "So... can I have my shorts back now?" My words were said with a little bit of a teasing tone to them. I wasn't trying to make this into a more sexual situation.

She blinked a few times, and then laughed. It was nervous laughter, not scornful, fortunately, and I knew her well enough to know the difference. She shook her head, "Wow! Chris, I had no idea!" She looked down at me, curiosity more evident than anything overtly sexual, and asked, "Have you ever measured that thing?"

For some reason, although the initial 'reveal' hadn't gotten to me, her comment and question made me blush, and I answered truthfully, "No."

Her eyes gleamed, which was my only warning, before she turned, snatched up my shorts, and ran for the back door of her house. She called over her shoulder, "Stay here, I'll be right back."

I let out a sigh as I watched her run. I had to admit the sight of her running off in that little bikini was worth watching. I wasn't concerned about being caught. Our parents were all off at work, she has no siblings, and my only brother is older and was no longer living at home at that point. The pool area of her back yard is screened on two sides by trees and one by the house. The only other house or yard that could possibly see where I was standing was my own, and I knew that there was no chance of anyone being home there for several hours.

While I waited for her to return with my shorts, and wondered exactly what she'd run off for, I settled down onto one of the deck chairs, using towel as a seat cushion. Now that the initial concerns were gone, I was actually kind of enjoying myself. It was very freeing, and pleasurable, to be outdoors and nude, feeling sunlight and the light breeze on parts that had never seen either.

Just as my mind was starting to wander, I heard the door open and close, and looked up to find Trish, returned with my shorts, and something else in her hand. The 'something else' turned out, a moment later as she waved it, to be a measuring tape, the flexible kind used for measuring someone for a garment. Her mother sews.

I blushed again, realizing quickly what she intended, but not knowing how things were going to proceed. She waved the measuring tape again and said cheerfully, "Found it! Now... time to see just how big that bad boy you've got is." It was her turn to look just a little sheepish as she started to reach out, reconsidered, and handed me the tape, "Uh, OK, um, here. Now, um, measure along the top, right from your body to the tip."

Apparently, there were still limits, a thing which I found both strangely comforting and somewhat disappointing. I wasn't surprised though. She had always been a very loyal person, and she was dating someone at that time. Apparently, at least in her mind, it went too far if she actually touched me.

I licked my lips, a bit nervous to see the results here, and nodded. I leaned all the way back in the deck chair, not wanting to lose size to the curve of my body (I may have had trouble because of my size before, but vanity is vanity), and set the mettle tip of the tape way at the top of my shaft. Unrolling the tape carefully and making sure it followed the curve just right, I didn't try to cheat and get extra distance by positioning. Holding it in place, I did my little part to contribute to the mischief of the day and said, "Here, you read it, I can't really see from here."

Trish, nodded, biting her lower lip in a very cute expression that she always had when she was either nervous or planning something mischievous. Leaning in close enough that I swear I could feel her breath across my circumcised head, but still not touching it, she said, "OK... wow. Seven and... three quarters. That's quite a piece of meat."

Hearing the note of desire in her voice, small but there, was almost enough to make the measurement change right then and there, but nerves at the situation helped me keep control. As I started to pull the measuring tape away she shook her head, "Uh-uh. Now girth." She looked at me, and gave me a conspiratorial grin, "Believe me Chris, that is just as important."

I gave her a blank look and said, "Girth?" I knew the word, but for the life of me couldn't think how I was going to measure it.

She grinned and said, "Just wrap it around the thickest part. I want to see how big around."

I complied, wrapping it around the head and making sure there was no slack to ruin the measurement. She leaned in again to read the measure, and I tried desperately to not think how close her mouth was to my cock, just so, once again, the measure wouldn't rapidly start to increase.

Softly, almost reverently, she said, "Let's see... right about 6." She looked up at me then, and stood back up, pulling away. She looked up, a habit she had if trying to do a mental calculation. You'd never know from looking at her, but Trish was always a wiz at math. "If I'm right, and assuming it was perfectly round, that's just under 2 inches across." She looked me in the eye then and repeated a word she'd been saying a lot that day. "Wow."

I pointed it out to her, "You've been saying that a lot since I lost my shorts, you know." She had the good grace to blush, and look away. 

She looked back a moment later, "I've just... I've never seen a guy that big before. And, well, I've never really had a chance to look at a guy soft, you know?" 

I did know, unfortunately. As I said, we talked about everything, and I was well aware of what she had, or had not, done with boyfriends before. And if all she'd seen naked were her boyfriends, I could well imagine how she'd never seen one soft.

My mind followed that train of thought for few moments, so it took me a while to realize she was nibbling her bottom lip again, an impish gleam in her eye. I only had a split second, but somehow I guessed what she was about to say. I was right. "You know, that makes me wonder... If this is how big you are soft... how the hell big are you hard, Chris?"

I both didn't like where this was going and really liked where this was going. I wasn't sure which was the dominant feeling. So I just answered truthfully. "Uh, again, I never measured. But... bigger. Quite a bit bigger."

She started lip nibbling again. I knew I was in trouble. In case you can't tell, I've never been great at telling Trish 'no'. And she said, "Well, let's measure."

I coughed and looked nervous. "Um, Trish, I don't know about that." I paused and smiled a little sheepishly, "For that I'd have to be hard. And for that..." I just blushed, and couldn't finish the thought.

She giggled, "Oh, come on! I want to see! Please." She looked at me with those sparkling green eyes. I had no chance.

But I wasn't a complete pushover. I looked at her, "You know, you've seen an awful lot of me already today. And now you're asking me to get myself hard for..." I paused, reconsidered my next word, as saying 'get myself hard for you' didn't seem quite the right thing, and then finished, "... so you can measure it. I'm feeling like things don't balance out right about now."

She gave me a look that was mostly pout, and which almost won her the argument by default. I held my ground enough though, that she said, "Fine!" She grinned at me and said, "Then why don't we do a little balancing. You get me a measurement when you're hard, my suit goes over there with yours." She said it with a self-confident little swagger and, I admit, at that point I had to make a deal quickly because she'd won, I was starting to rise.

So, leaning forward in my chair to try and give a little cover to the expansion that had already started, I said, "Deal." And then I added, only half teasing, "But if you lose the suit first the other part would be a lot easier."

She gave me a little smirk, but nodded. I watched in rapt attention as her hands went up to the tie on her top. A quick tug and the dark blue fabric of her top fell away, revealing to me for the very first time the set of perfect breasts I'd been fantasizing about for years. My jaw fell open. They were perfectly formed, and apparently I wasn't the only one a little excited, because her nipples were pulled tight and poking out before the breeze ever hit them. Not that an August breeze could've made them stand like that anyway.

Then she stood up, and her hand went to the tie for her bottoms. Never mind getting hard, I thought I might explode then and there. She drew the fabric away slowly. I may never know if she was nervous or just teasing me, or maybe both. But a moment later she threw both parts of her suit over on top of mine and stood fully revealed. Her sex was beautiful, not shaved smooth but neatly trimmed into a small round patch above a slit that was trim, the inner lips just barely poking out.

I must have made a sound of appreciation because she laughed. She smiled, "OK, now you stand up. No fair hiding the view." Glancing down I realized she was right; I had unconsciously placed my arm to block my member from her eyes.

Too late to turn back, I did as she bid. I stood up, and put my hands on my hips, letting the view speak for itself. She looked down. I think it was unconscious on her part, but the tip of her tongue poked out, wetting her lips. My cock stood up further. She nodded, not saying anything. I think both of us were at a loss for words. I wanted her. God, how I wanted her, but I wasn't willing to breach the wall of our previous closeness, to risk our friendship by moving wrong in that moment.

She broke the silence first, with a teasing comment, "Well, I guess there's no question that you like the view." She pointed to the measuring tape. "Now, I want a number, mister!" She smiled at me, the same smile I had always known. I don't know whether that was a comfort or came close to breaking my heart, that we were standing there both naked, me obviously aroused, and she was giving me the same sisterly smile she always had for me.

I looked away for a moment and she said quietly, "Chris? You going to measure or not?"

I looked back at her and gave a sheepish smile, "Ah, Trish, you're going to have to give me a moment here. I... um, it isn't ready to be measured."




Girl Next Door Ch. 01



She looked at me confused and I tried to get my point across, "Flag's flying at half mast." Her look was still blank, so I gave a clearer statement through tightened lips, "I'm not all the way hard."

Her eyebrows shot towards her hairline and she let out a little "Oh." She shook her head then, smiled, and added, "That thing gets bigger?"

I smiled and answered, as always between the two of us, honestly. I glanced down at my member, which was sticking more out than up, as if trying to point the way towards where it wanted to be, "I don't know how much bigger, but it definitely gets harder." I back down on the towel-covered deck chair. She turned the chair next to mine to face me, giving her a profile view and, after throwing her towel over it, sat down as well. I couldn't help but notice that, with her knees just slightly spread, her sex was aimed invitingly at me. It definitely helped to ratchet things up a notch.

I gave the tiniest smile and said, "Ah, Trish, I'm going to have to do a little more than look to make it harder. I don't know if you'd rather look away...?" I trailed off, waiting for an answer.

It took her a moment to realize what I was trying to say, and she gave me a devilish grin that helped matters along all by itself. She shook her head and said, "No, just go on."

I wasn't entirely sure I could go on with her watching, but I tried. I lay back on the deck chair, and started to masturbate. I'm big enough that I sometimes use both hands, and since I was somewhat putting on a show, I decided that was the best way to go. I was nervous, which didn't help, and at first closed my eyes, trying to ignore that she was watching me.

With one hand, I cupped my balls and wrapped finger and thumb around the base of my shaft. The fingers didn't quite meet. As those fingers slid back and forth, the other hand went to work on the shaft, first milking up from the base towards the tip in long, slow strokes. My mind raced even as my hands moved slow. Trish was watching me jerk off. The thought at first almost made me go limp.

Then I continued to think. Trish was watching me jerk off. Trish had pretty much told me to jerk off in front of her. Trish wanted to watch me jerk off. That did it, at least as much as the slow manipulations of my hands.

I was able to open my eyes again, sure now that just the sight of her was not going to kill my hard on, just help it. I needn't have worried. She was sitting there watching in rapt attention. The man who could have looked at a naked girl that beautiful who was watching his cock with that expression on her face and gone soft is a man not interested in the attention of women. I, of course, was very interested in such attention, so the effect was immediate. 

I felt the blood surge to fill my member, making me hard and ready for anything. I moved my hand up from shaft to head, but the motion was redundant at that point. I think I did it more for the pleasure and because at least part of me wanted Trish to know what I do to make myself feel good.

I kept one hand playing with the head of my cock, trying to keep myself at the peak of my erection, as I said to Trish, "Now I'm ready to measure." She didn't say a word, just handed me the tape. I put the tape in place again, but that was made somewhat more difficult by the fact that my shaft wasn't stationary this time, but bobbing slightly with my heartbeat. Holding the tape lightly in place, I asked her to read the measurement.

She leaned in to look, and I couldn't watch her move her face in towards it, an unwanted explosion was too likely if I did. I just heard her voice as she said, "Let's see. It's just a hair under 10", I think. Can you hold it still?" I opened my eyes then, and was almost undone by the sight of her, as I feared, but I kept control.

I shook my head, but I don't think she saw me. Words did not come easy at that moment. Finally, out of frustration, I think, and not really considering what she was measuring at the moment, she grabbed me in one hand to steady the bobbing. The result was almost a disaster. I let out a strangled cry just as she said, "There we go, 9 and a half... whoa!" She laughed as she took her hand away, "Um, make that 10 inches."

I think even she realized what had almost happened, and why there was that sudden last minute swell, and she looked a little sheepish, but impressed. She backed away and said, "I think maybe I should let you handle the girth measurement on your own." 

I nodded and complied quickly, wanting to get the best possible measurement. I wrapped the tape, marked the relevant measure with my nail, which is what we should have been doing in the first place, I realized without regret at our alternative, and then pulled the tape away, holding it up to her so she could read it at the mark.

She sounded impressed as she read out, "Let's see, a little over 8 inches around." She did her look-up-while-doing-math thing again, and then looked down at me. "That's over 2 inches across. Well over."

She leaned back looking satisfied, fixing herself until she was comfortable on the lounge. She smiled, that perfect, heart-wrenching smile, though this one looked more mischievous than sisterly. She said, "Well, Chris. That settles it. You are, officially, the best hung guy I have ever seen, and probably ever will see."

Then, for no apparent reason, she started laughing. Not just laughing a little, but almost doubled over laughing. I looked at her strangely, and she laughed more. Finally, she calmed down enough to explain, sort of. All she said at first was, "I get it!" Since I think at that point I was looking at her like she had lost her mind, she clarified, "There's only one thing I ever asked you that you wouldn't give me a straight answer to. Underwear."

Then I understood her laughter. It had been a running joke between us for years, since junior high. She said she could always tell if I had gym on a given day by whether she could see the waistband of my boxers. She knew, actually she was one of only a handful of people who knew, that my preference was to go commando, but that I was scrupulous in making sure I never went commando on a day I had to change in the locker rooms. I think what struck her funny was that she was probably the first who ever realized, other than me, that the reason was the exact opposite of what she'd always assumed.

She had teased me, not seriously, but frequently, when she first found out about the underwear thing, that I was too nervous about someone seeing me with the assumption that I thought I was small. I knew I wasn't small, but I still didn't want rumors spreading.

Then, still laughing, she added, "And I get the fight with Marc." It was my turn to laugh then. It was the worst of the few fights I'd ever been in, especially if you went by the level of injury I had at the end. He had been her boyfriend. After the fight he was her ex-boyfriend, which suited me just fine. It had started because Marc was the jealous type, he didn't like any guy around Trish. He was also the jock type, and was a hundred times worse about the jealously around his football buddies. 

One night Marc had started getting on my case about the time I spent with Trish. My, truthful, answer was that she was like a sister and she lived next door, how exactly was I supposed to not spend time with her. He wasn't happy, but wasn't quite dumb enough to test which of us had Trish's greater loyalty. The fight started because of his comment at what should have been the end of our verbal argument. He had looked at me, six inches taller and twice my weight, and said, "You know what, little boy? You're just not man enough for me to have to even worry." And I'd laughed in his face.

Yes, I know that was not a bright thing to do but I couldn't help it. The end result was the most thorough ass-kicking of my life, with me laughing uncontrollably through half of it because of the ridiculousness of the situation. Trish had only been able to stop the beating by threatening to call the cops. I would never tell her why I laughed at him.

Lying naked on the deck of her pool, laughing in the August heat, that day seemed very far away indeed, especially when I got that lip-biting look from Trish again. I could only imagine what was going to happen next.

She looked me over, her eyes settling on my still nearly fully erect member and she said, very matter-of-fact. "I think you need to take care of that. Because there's no where you're stuffing that monster, as is, back into your shorts."

The way she said "you need", I realized that, despite the one brief touch, she was not offering further assistance. I tried to hide my disappointment behind the veneer of our usual, easygoing relationship, and just nodded, with a smile.

When I answered verbally, "Yeah, I think you may be right about that one." I propped myself further up on the deck chair and said, "I can go inside to the bathroom..." But her expression topped me.

Her words were soft, "If you'd really rather do that." She was giving me an option this time. Go finish myself off in private, or right there, with her watching. I chose the gutsier option.

I laid back and started working my shaft again as I watched Trish. She surprised me, and I think it was the greatest shock of the day. Still watching me, she laid back on her chair, and her hands started roaming her body. She started at her thighs, fingers tracing lightly over bare skin, and then gliding up over that flat stomach to the curves of her perfect breasts.

Her fingers caught her nipples and twisted them, rolling them back and forth for a while as my hand slid up and down my own shaft. I could only imagine what it would be if my hands and hers could switch places. Her fingers spent a long time on her breasts, and I was keeping a slow rhythm as I watched her. I did not want to lose control, and end this prematurely. Her fingers glided down then, tracing lines across her stomach until they reached her sex.

With one hand, she spread herself open, giving me a view I had dreamed of, but never hoped for. With the other, she slipped two fingers deep inside herself, her thumb resting on her exposed clit. She started working herself with her fingers, slowly at first but building, ever building. She took a longer time with the build up than I expected, and I had to rein myself in repeatedly.

Eventually though, long after I would have finished myself, if I wasn't trying to coincide with her, she picked up the speed until her hand was almost a blur. She was not gentle with her own sex, her fingers flying as she built towards orgasm. I sped up too then, the sight was just too erotic for me not to. She made little noises as her breathing sped faster and faster. Nothing that could be called a word, but they had unmistakable meaning.

Every sound was like a lightning bolt to me, and the lightning rod was the piece of flesh my hand was rapidly working. Her breathing sped more, until the little noises she was making were nearly continues and then, suddenly, her body bowed, thrashing on the deck chair. Her eyes never left me though. I wasn't even sure if she blinked. She was watching me with the same intensity I was watching her, and the sight of her orgasm was more than enough to set my long delayed climax off.

I had just enough presence of mind to make sure I was pointed away from her so she wouldn't get splashed. To say my climax was strong is not enough. I know that with a rifle, the longer the barrel, the faster the shot travels when it exits. I don't think the same is true for the human body's nearest equivalent, but that day it just might have been. My first shot arced over my own shoulder, with successive shots diminishing until I had a line of sticky white goo from my shoulder down to my crotch.

I was totally spent, but my brain was still buzzing as my cock shrank down as much as it ever does. Trish looked at me with a little smile and, without another word between us; we both went to get cleaned up, her to her house, me to mine. I worried at the time what change this would mean between us, but it was not nearly as bad as I feared.

Some things did change, some did not. I was still was there to comfort her late that summer when her boyfriend of the moment broke it off so he'd be a "free agent" when he went off to college, she was still there when I needed to figure out what clothes did or did not get packed off to come to school with me, and we both cried the day that, for the first time in our lives, we were going to be apart for more than a two week family vacation, as we went off to two different colleges.

Other things did change. Though we stayed as close as we could in two different schools, and my roommate teased me that I spent more time on the phone with Trish than he did with his girlfriend back home, certain topics didn't come up between us after that. I think she finally realized that it had hurt like an open wound every time I heard the details of her failed relationships, and that there were certain things that, as a guy, I really can't sympathize with well.

Our day on the pool deck was not repeated. Oh, we used that pool, but somehow the rest of that summer it was rarely just her and me in the pool, there was always another friend there, and I don't think any of them ever realized they were playing chaperone between two people who'd always been like siblings.

But that day was not the end of our story. It can't be said to be the beginning, either, but it was a definite turning point. I thought, at the time, it would be the peak of our friendship, that from there on, it would always be there between us, and we'd never be as uninhibited around each other again. After all, she knew for the first time that I saw her as more than a sister, and I knew for the first time that I was, in her eyes, no longer just her friend, but a guy.

I was wrong about how things would turn between us, though at first it seemed I was right. Just how I was proven wrong is another story entirely. One that I will share, in time.



Girl Next Door Ch. 02



Jimmy kept a watch on Miranda's backyard for the next couple of days, hoping that she would repeat her performance in the pool; but she didn't. The few times that he saw her she was on her way out somewhere, although he tried to go over a couple times when he was pretty sure that she was home no one answered the door. Disheartened, he thought that maybe she wasn't as interested in getting to know him as he was in getting to know her... it was definitely possible. Maybe he'd just been so excited by having a beautiful girl next door that he'd taken purely friendly overtures as being more than friendly... oh well. If nothing else, the images in his head of her bouncing up and down on the diving board, swimming naked and then masturbating were worth his entire summer's stay.

And then he got lucky again. He'd found a pair of binoculars and put them up on the window where he'd been watching her from before - it was a prime spot, through the branches to hide him a little but giving him a good view of the backyard. Walking by one of the other windows he glanced out and saw her setting up next to the pool... this time she had a bag with her but she was naked again. Very excited he raced to the other window, getting into position with the binoculars and putting them to his eyes.

She looked even better closer... this was the perfect distance so that he could see her from upper thighs to the top of her head, getting the full view of her body and also of her facial expressions. Smiling she went over and jumped into the pool again, floating around on her back while her breasts bobbled lusciously on her chest. Groaning happily as she went to the diving board, Jimmy slid one hand down into his pants to rub his aching dick; her boobs were flopping as she bounced on the diving board and then dove in. 

It was just as good as show as it had been before, her naked glistening body jumping up and down while the fleshier parts of her jiggled enticingly... Jimmy was fisting himself firmly as he watched her in the pool. When she got out he fervently hoped that she was going to repeat the other day's activities... yes... YES! She got out a bottle of the lotion and began rubbing it all over her generous tits, taking a lot of time to rub it into her nipples, pinching the glistening buds. Rubbing his dick hard, he ran his thumb over the sensitive head and moaned as she started playing with her nipples.

Miranda's eyes were closed and her mouth was open, panting as she rubbed her breasts, pinching and twisting at the erect buds; her thighs spread open almost as if it was involuntary. Between her pink lips, pussy juices were collecting and shining, the lips parting as though asking for a dick to be rammed between them. Jimmy's breathing was getting heavy as she suddenly stopped and reached into her bag, causing him some consternation as he feared that she was going to stop.

Instead, she brought out a dildo. Not a particularly big one, in fact his dick was probably bigger than it, but still, he realized that she was going to masturbate with a dildo. He was actually going to get to watch a replica of a dick pushing its way in and out of her hot hole... this had to be the best summer he'd ever had. Taking the dildo, she rubbed it over her oiled tits and nipples, sliding it through the deep valley of cleavage and making Jimmy wish that it was his dick sliding between that slick flesh. 

Moving the dildo down to her pussy, she slid it up and down between the pink lips a few times, getting it wet with her juices. Jimmy had the binoculars locked onto her body, his hand moving on his dick firmly as she poised the tip of the dildo at the entrance of her pussy. Slowly she started pushing it in, a little bit at a time, her mouth making a perfect 'o' as she sighed in lustful happiness, the plastic toy stretching her open. With the binoculars Jimmy could actually see her pussy hole opening up to accept the toy, like a mouth stretching wide as more and more of its length was pushed in. The fact that she was using a very life-like dildo made it even easier for him to imagine that it was his own dick pushing into her.

He kept his hand moving at the same pace that she was using to thrust the dildo into her body; enjoying the way her tits jiggled and the expressions on her face as she fucked herself. The binoculars were getting heavy in his hand but there was no question of him putting them down, they were giving him the best view that he'd ever had! Miranda began thrusting the dildo into her pussy faster and faster, and his hand picked up speed on his dick, feeling the orgasm starting to build in his balls as he watched her fuck herself.

Finally she slammed the dildo all the way in, the deepest it had gone yet and rubbed her clit furiously with her fingers as she thrashed in ecstatic orgasm; as her boobs bounced and her loud moans reached his ears, he shot his load, his dick throbbing in his hand. This was probably the best masturbation he'd ever had... how could it not be with the kind of stimulation he was getting? He sighed in completion as he finished cumming, his eyes focusing down on Miranda again.

The view had changed, the dildo was out of her pussy and she was standing so that he only could see her lower half... and she was facing the house he was in. Startled he brought the binoculars up to where she was looking straight at him. 

"Did you like the show you sick fucker?!" she yelled up... cripes she looked angry. Jimmy felt frozen in place, he had no idea what to do... she'd obviously seen him, and really he was breaking the law... but damn, she'd been swimming around naked in her backyard! And masturbating! What guy his age was supposed to be able to resist watching that? Hell, with the way she looked, what guy ANY age was supposed to be able to resist that?

Flicking him off she turned and walked back towards the house, leaving him standing next to the window, binoculars in hand, completely stunned. His mind tried to figure out what had happened... had she known all along that he'd been watching her? In that case, why had she called him a sick fucker? If she'd been playing with herself just for his benefit then that would make her just as 'sick'... or so he thought anyway. Had he done something to make her notice? Moaned out loud?

Shaken and confused Jimmy put the binoculars down and retreated to the interior of the house, where there were no windows facing Miranda's. 



Girl Next Door Ch. 02



I lay in bed, my head pounding, and I stared at the ceiling. A dull ache throbbed in my abdomen and the back of my thighs. I was cold, and a mound of blankets and sheets sat huddled on top of me like a fabric mountain, wrinkled and sweat-stained. Despite how I felt, I couldn't help but flash on the images of the day: Mrs. Tasker on top of me, bucking, and Maddy in the doorway, watching. 

I felt used, sore, and drained, and I wanted more. 

My cell phone came to life, and I realized I was already sick of the ringtone I had downloaded just last week. With a groan, I clawed at the phone with one hand, managed to snag it, and flipped it open beside my ear. 

"Hey, Maddy," I said. 

"Hey there, sexy." Her voice was teasing, an undercurrent of sly humor in her tone. 

"What's up?"

She snickered on the other line, and I thought about her, her pants unbuttoned, applauding her mom and me after I had cried out in uninhibited ecstasy. My cock, which had pulled up inside of me like a turtle into a shell after its afternoon of abuse, began to unspool and harden. 

"Tomorrow, we have some work to do. Mom says I need to teach you how to properly eat pussy," she said.

"What?"

"You heard me." She hung up. 

I sighed and flipped my phone closed. I ached. I throbbed. I didn't care. It was turning out to be an interesting start to summer. Had Maddy and her family just moved in the day before? It seemed like everything had changed in that short 24 hour period from helping them move boxes to being seduced by Mrs. Tasker. The entire world had been spun upside-down. 

Eventually, I closed my eyes and slipped into a deep sleep. 

The next morning was a hazy blur, a prelude to meeting Maddy and engaging in... well, whatever she was willing to engage in. She had mentioned oral sex, but I hoped that would only be the beginning to a long afternoon of fucking. 

"Hey, Mom and I will be out tonight. You hanging around?" Dad said. 

I looked up from my eggs and toast, my mouth full of half-chewed food. My mind had drifted, and it took me a moment before I realized what Dad had said.

"You're going out?" I droned in a sleepy voice.

Dad nodded. He was putting plates away from the dishwasher. They clinked and clattered as he stacked them in the cabinet. 

"Yeah," he said. "Dinner with the Taskers. Maybe you can have Maddy over and get some pizza or something. Seems like a nice girl." 

I froze. I wasn't sure why the thought of my parents and Maddy's parents going out sent a sudden and unexpected chill through my body, but it did. I told myself I was being silly. There was no way that Mrs. Tasker would bring me up. No way that somehow my parents would find out what I had done, not to mention Mr. Tasker, who I could only assume would be none too pleased. 

Daddy must have noticed my reservation because he said, "Do you have plans tonight?"

"No, no," I said. "Pizza with Maddy is a good idea."

After breakfast, I mowed the yard. It was still early, but already the sun burned scorching hot. Sweat rolled off my neck and down my back. It dripped into my eyes. I figured I felt so tired, so lagged, because of the heat. But I couldn't blame the sun for the deep ache in the core of my muscles. 

By the time I finished, I was more tired than ever and now half-covered with blades of grass and sweat. I took a long, cold shower. I hoped it'd refresh me, give me back a little bit of energy, but I still felt like hell by the time I had lathered, rinsed, and repeated. Afterwards, I took a look at myself in the mirror, hair plastered to my forehead, towel wrapped around my waist, water dripping off the end of my nose and chin. 

"Don't be an asshole," I told my reflection. This had become something of a daily motto after the bad break-up with my last girlfriend. I thought about Mrs. Tasker. Did fucking her make me just that? An asshole? Fucking her in front of her daughter, the daughter that had filled my stomach with butterflies and sent a tingling ache through my stomach? Probably. I ached for Maddy, and I fucked her mother, anyway. I was a total asshole.

The funny thing was Maddy didn't seem to mind. 

The day slipped away. I spent most of it trying to reenergize in bed, watching ridiculous horror movies on cable. Before I knew it, my parents were yelling their goodbyes up the stairs, and my body ached more than ever. A dull pounding pain throbbed in my temples. 

It didn't matter. These were minor annoyances next to the nervous excitement of getting up to trouble with Maddy. I peeled myself out of bed, washed my face, looked myself over, and trudged my way to the house next door. 

I barely noticed the suspicious looking pick-up truck across the street and a silhouette of person sitting there, staring at Maddy's house. Probably someone waiting for a friend. 

When I rang the door bell, she answered it in a tight pink t-shirt and pair of cut-off jean shorts. She had her hair pulled up into pigtails, tied with pink ribbon. Knee-high socks stretched up from a pair of Converse sneakers, also pink. 

"Took you long enough," she snorted and then flashed me a wide grin. A mischievous look twinkled in her hazel eyes. My legs felt like jelly in my faded jeans. 

"Hey, wanna get a pizza?" I said, sounding stupid in my own ears. I had never felt so inept in front of a girl. There was something about Maddy, something intangible. Even though I knew she was different, was sexually open and free and wanted me, something about her weakened my knees. 

Maddy laughed, slight dimples forming at the corners of her mouth. She grabbed my wrists with her hands and pulled me into the house. I devoured her with my eyes. She was tall and athletic, but her body still curved in all the right places, the bottom of her firm ass could be seen under the ragged end of her shorts: twin pale circles of mouth-watering flesh. 

I imagined the sound of our trim and muscular bodies meeting: the wet smack of skin-on-skin. I visualized her naked, bent over, and driving into her, impaling her. How she would cry out as I fucked her: Yes! Yes! Yes!

Already, my penis hardened. I barely knew this girl, and yet everything was happening so quickly, so easily; it was a fantasy somehow given life. I was too stupid and too horny to question my luck. 

Maddy led me to a checkered red-and-black couch. She turned, her face radiant, her eyes catching the attention of mine and holding it. 

"Kneel," she said, and I did as I was told. She unbuttoned her shorts. They fell around her ankles. Her underwear quickly followed suit. My mouth filled with saliva. She sat down on the couch and opened her knees. Blood rushed to my head. I could see the lips of her vagina. She was completely shaved, smooth and pink. 

"This will taste much better than pizza," she whispered. "Come here." 

Dreamily, I moved between her legs.

"Now, take it slow. It's not a race. I want you to kiss me here," she said and pointed at the top of her thigh. I kissed her. She felt cool and soft on my lips. 

"Now here," she said. Slightly lower. "Now here." Her inner thigh, the skin now warmer on my lips. "Now here."

My heart was going mad in my chest. It literally felt like it was going to burst. My mouth moved closer and closer to her femininity, her skin becoming hotter and hotter as I approached.

I heard her sigh, and I looked up. Her eyes were thin slits, barely open beneath her long, black lashes. The sleepy-eyed look somehow made her seem ever more seductive. 

"Slowly. Softly. Put your mouth on me."

I did. My penis was a rock hard cylinder in my jeans. 

"A little higher. Find my clit... it's a hard little nub... yeah, there.... Ohhhhhhhhhh."

I kissed it. Her need grew. I could smell it, and I could feel her moisture thickening on my chin. 

"Flick it with your tongue," she whispered, her voice deep and breathless. My tongue darted out and caught her clitoris on its end. I alternated between flicking and swirling it in tiny circles. Maddy gave a quiet moan. Her delicate white skin began to blush red. Her breaths increased in pace. 

"Ok, now carefully, tease me with your finger."

I did, slowly twirling my finger over her, then inserted just the tip into her wet warmth. She shivered, and I slipped my finger all the way into her. My head swam. I don't think I had ever been so turned on in my life, and it was all because Maddy was so turned on. I had never thought about how sexy, how hot it would be to see a woman so enthrall to what I was doing to her.

"Your mouth, yes, there, and your fingers in-and-out. Slow, slow," she sighed in shivery breaths. 

I followed her instructions to the letter, concentrating on pleasuring her. My cock ached in my jeans, desperate to be let out, and I was pleasantly surprised by my own restraint. I was going to enjoy Maddy, not rush into our sex clumsily. With most other girls, I ended up finished before I could really get started. 

Soon her body tensed. I looked up to see her eyes clenched shut, her mouth a thin white line of tension across her face, lips pressed together. Her cheeks burned red and hot. Her muscles coiled, her breathing increased, then suddenly stopped.

And then she cried out with a sharp squeal; her nails dug into my scalp; her knees slammed the sides of my head, colliding with my skull. I saw stars, went flailing backwards, and hit the floor. 

Black. The absence of color. The absence of everything really because I was out of it for I don't know how long, at least a few seconds. When I fluttered my eyes open, Maddy was looking at me, her shiny womanhood glistening between her open legs. 

"Get your shit together and fuck me," she demanded. 

Sure, I'd just technically had some kind of concussion. Sure, I barely knew the girl. Sure, I had made passionate love to her mother, and she didn't seem to mind. All of these absurdities were secondary to the fact that Maddy was beautiful and sexy and wanted me. I struggled to my feet and limped towards her. 

My erect cock led me like the cane of a blind man. I felt her hands on me, pulling me close, and then I was lost in the tangle of flames of her red hair. A hand clutched my ass; another took a hold of me and guided me. 

I clenched my teeth shut hard, almost painfully. I heard Maddy screech, and I felt her warmth encase me, wet and thick and tight. My eyes went useless for a moment. When they worked again, the scene under me seemed surreal, dream-like... fantastic in the truest sense of the world. 

Maddy's face matched her hair, her skin flushed a deep red. Her hazel eyes were open, sparkling, looking up, challenging. Her pigtails were swishing swaths of color. Her legs wrapped around me, and I couldn't help but look down and make sure that, yes, my penis really was inside of her, down to the hilt. 

The back of my mind told me that this was not what I wanted. I ached for this girl. I shouldn't let our first time be cheap, rough, and meaningless. This was fucking, not love. I should have had to romance her, should have made it special. But this was my brain talking, and I had shut that off for the night. My cock was running the show at the moment, and there was no way it was going to give Maddy up because of some made-up abstract concept like love- if that's even what I was feeling. 

"Yes, harder," she groaned, and I felt my muscles screaming, sore and tight, and yet I gave her all I had and more, desperate to impress her, to please her, to give her what she wanted. 

My crotch felt moist and sticky with her. Our bodies rippled with impact as we met again and again. The world was a dream, and it seemed as if I slipped in and out of it. I was in Maddy; I was out of consciousness; I pulled out of Maddy; reality twirled and whipped like a ribbon caught in a gust of wind. 

Maddy gnashed her teeth, her body clenched, and she cried, "YESSSSS!"

Something in my mind broke. My knees went weak. Life drained out of me. I swooned. Light became darkness... 

I came to consciousness in the yard, stumbling through a row of bushes; my knees were raw and bleeding as though I'd had a spill on some gravel. My head throbbed. I could feel my eyes pulsating in their sockets, a sensation that was both surreal and horrifying. 

I collapsed and got a face full of grass. On cue, the lawn sprinklers whisked on, and I was suddenly soaked, exhausted, and covered in a tapestry of itchy grass and bloody scratches. I tried to sort through what had happened. I had been with Maddy, in virtual heaven, and then, unexplainably, I was in the yard. In the yard, doing what? Picking daisies? 

Fugue: the word came to me from something I had read once. Probably some stupid suspense novel for a book report. But that was what fit. Fugue. I'd had some kind of episode where I had lost consciousness and wandered in a state between waking and sleep. 

If that was the case, why hadn't Maddy stopped me?

I tried to pull myself up, but my body didn't respond. Every muscle was useless. Much like Santa Claus, I was not much more than a bowl full of jelly. 

I heard someone making their way towards me, slushy footsteps on the wet grass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a hand reach down towards me, but I was so tired, I couldn't even turn my head to get a better look. 

"Holy shit, they did a number on you already," a voice said. It was unfamiliar but definitely female. I felt the person's hands wrap around my wrists. I blinked and tried to get a look at the source of the voice. Beads of water dripping from my lashes obscured my vision. 

"You're going to have to help me, bud. Whatever gas you have left in the tank, now is the time to use it," the woman said, and then she was yanking me up. I managed to get my legs under me, wobbly but sturdy enough to keep upright. 

She led me towards my house. I wondered how she knew where I lived, and then I remembered the truck from earlier in the night, the one parked across the street and the dark silhouette sitting inside of it. Had this woman been watching me?

When we came to the front door, she asked, "Got a key?"

"Unlocked," I rasped, and she pushed open the door. We walked, with her basically dragging me, through the house. In the living room, she steered me to the couch, and I slumped in it. Breathless, I peeled my eyes open enough to examine the stranger. 

Immediately, I noticed the family resemblance: the seductive lips, the long, aquiline nose with a smatter of freckles across it, the sparkly eyes that were green like her mothers rather than the hazel of her sisters. But this woman was unique, too. The main difference was the depth of her eyes, the circles under them, and the seriousness of her expression. 

Maddy made you think of laughter and sex. This woman was frowns and secrets. 

"Her sister," I said with an effort.

She shook her head. "That thing next door is not my sister."

I blinked. 

"We have a lot to talk about. Why don't I get us something to drink? The kitchen..."

I pointed in the direction, and the woman clomped off. I noticed she wore heavy-duty work boots. To complete the ensemble, she had on a dark blue shirt, buttoned up, the kind of shirt they always showed mechanics wearing in the movies. When she came back, I half expected to see a patch with her name on it sewn above her left breast. Between the boots, the shirt, and her faded jeans, it seemed like she was dressed for serious work. 

My mind drifted in and out, and when I felt a glass being pressed into my hand, I started. A flash of confused panic shot through me, and then I remembered where I was and how I had got there. The woman looked down at me with what appeared to be a mix of concern and disgust. 

"Thanks," I said. The glass felt heavy, too heavy. With a concerted effort, I brought it to my lips. Cold water sloshed into my mouth and down my throat. I didn't realize how parched I felt. My muscles trembled as I set the glass upon the coffee table with a clumsy thud. I had trouble believing that my arms were so weak. It's not like I had been doing any heavy lifting during sex with Maddy. 

"How do you feel?" the woman asked.

"Tired and..."

"Drained?" she finished.

I nodded. Drained. It was the perfect description for my current state. 

"That's what they do," she said. 

"They?"

She nodded and said, "I am going to tell you what I'm doing here, and I don't want you to interrupt until I'm finished."

She waited for me to respond, perhaps to protest. Instead, I shrugged and gave a weak nod. It seemed easier than the energy it would have taken to form words. 

"I'm Sarah Tasker, Maddy's older sister. Only the person next door to you is not Maddy," she paused, looked down at her glass of what looked to be one of Dad's beers, and shook her head. Her eyes wandered. Her tongue clicked. She seemed lost in thought, and then the words found her. 

"Where the hell to begin," she murmured. "I was away at college. I get a phone call from Maddy one day telling me about some neighbors that had moved in next door. One of them was a boy, a bit older than Maddy, very cute, she said."

At this point she stopped and asked, "Sound familiar?"

All I could manage was an indifferent sigh. I didn't know what to make of anything yet. Two days ago I'd met Maddy and already I had fucked her, her Mom, and apparently been stalked by her sister. All I knew was that I was in some weird shit. 

"The next phone call was from Mom. She was worried about Maddy. She couldn't get Maddy out of bed. She was afraid something was wrong with her. And then she'd caught Maddy sneaking out, sneaking out to meet the boy next door."

That confirmed at least some of my suspicions. Maddy was a slut. I predicted the next part of the story would be the description of a family blow-up leading to Maddy's parents' decision to move if only to get her away from the bad boy next door. 

"I didn't hear from them for a few weeks. When I called and someone finally answered, it was Maddy. She didn't sound like herself. She told me not to call back. She hung up on me. By then it was time for finals. When I made my way home for the summer, guess what? They were gone. Gone without a trace. The entire house packed up and empty. And they hadn't even told me that they were moving or where they were going. Weird, right?"

This time I managed a nod in agreement. That was weird, all right. 

"So I went to meet these neighbors, the ones with the cute boy Maddy's age. Only, they were gone, too. No one home. I waited and waited. No one showed up. I stayed with one of my friends from high school. He and I broke into the neighbors' house. We found bodies in the basement."

My stomach dropped. The word "weird" was no longer adept to sum things up. The story had now officially become "fucked up." 

"They didn't look like bodies. They looked like mummies, a thousand years old and shriveled up. A man, a woman, and a boy from what we could make out. A boy probably around Maddy's age. They looked like they had been sucked dry by a pack of vampires."

The woman, Sarah, moved her eyes up from her glass and held my glare. I figured her story was bullshit, but when she looked at me and caught me with those eyes, I knew she told the truth. Either that or she was bat-shit crazy. I would have guessed crazy, but my own experience, the shivery, trembling sack of goo I presently called a body, was proof enough. But I couldn't bring myself to believe her words. 

Instead, I croaked, "Vampires?" My voice, though raspy, dripped with sarcasm. 

"Not vampires. Something else," she replied. I raised my eyebrows and said nothing. 

Sarah chugged the beer that she had helped herself from my Dad's stash. She wiped a sleeve across her lip and nodded as if she had expected nothing less. Her face looked worn, aged. It was not the face of your typical college sorority girl. 




Girl Next Door Ch. 02



"When you decide to believe me, I'm staying here," she said. She pulled a card from the pocket of her shirt. She held it out, and I took it from her. It was a business card for a local motel. The address and number of the hotel was printed on the card, and Sarah had written a phone number across the top in black ink.

"That's my cell there," Sarah said and tapped the top of the card. "Call me. Whatever you do, don't go back over there. If for no other reason than for the fact of how you feel right now. Drained." 

With that, she placed her glass on an end table and stalked out of the room. I heard the front door open and close behind her. After she had gone, there was no sound but that of the hall clock, ticking away, rhythmic and relentless. The house creaked, settling in for the night. Crickets chirped. Reality, grim and stubborn, started invading my mind. After a few minutes, I wondered if Sarah Tasker had ever really existed. Had I dreamt the whole thing?

My mind should have been racing, and yes, I had questions, plenty of them. I tried to find connections between Sarah, what she had told me, and what had happened the last few days. Before I could get my thoughts together, they drifted away, and I slipped into sleep.

When I woke, there was only the hall clock, still ticking. The house was eerily quiet. My body had recharged to the point I could sit up, albeit with a painful grunt. I glanced around, saw the digital display on the cable box under the TV set; it read 3:34 in the morning. 

My parents should have been home hours ago. If they had come in, they certainly would have woken me up. Mom couldn't abide me sleeping in the couch; it was one of her little pet peeves. She had plenty of them, and as reliable as the hallway clock, she acted on them. But I was still on the couch, and that could only mean that my parents had not returned. 

They were out. Out with Maddy's parents. I thought about what Sarah had told me, the bodies she had found. Again, my mind tried to tell me it was bullshit. However, doubt crept up quickly behind these thoughts, nagging me, pulling at the restraints of reality. 

Something told me to get up and check next door. 

Sarah's words echoed: "Whatever you do, don't go back over there."

But this was my parents we were talking about. I dragged myself to my feet and stumbled towards the front door. My muscles screamed in protest, but I ignored them. The foreboding sense that something was happening next door fueled me more effectively than the indignation of my pain. 

I made my way through the yard. The grass had dried. I realized with some concern that I had fallen in it more than four hours ago. It was hard to believe so much time had passed. My night was a vague, hazy dream, part-sex fantasy and part-nightmare.

The lights were on next door. I went around the back, moving slowly and cautiously. I suppose I had subconsciously taken what Sarah had told me to heart. I found that I did not want to be discovered snooping around their house by the Taskers, not even Maddy. 

Someone had left the blinds open to the common room at the back of the house. I peeked through the window. This is where my parents and the Taskers had congregated. At first, my eyes could not seem to focus, and my brain could not register what I was seeing. 

When they did, I gasped. 

Maddy's dad had Mom bent over the couch. His hands gripped her ass, and his face was a frantic, clenched parody of a lunatic's. He pumped savagely; Mom's ass rippled from his attack. Her eyes were rolled into the back of her head, and she looked drunk, lost in the animalistic lust of the moment. She bit her bottom lip. 

Dad was on the love seat. I could only see his legs. Mrs. Tasker obscured the rest of him, riding him reverse doggy-style. She bounced and ground. Her abs flexed; her breasts swayed. I saw Dad's hands holding on to her hips, his finger digging deep into her skin. His cock was buried in Mrs. Tasker just the way my cock had been buried in her only the day before. I could just make out the leathery skin of his bulging balls under her. 

My dad, the squarest man on the face of the Earth, fucking away at a veritable stranger. 

My mom, a registered Republican, who watched 'The Price is Right' faithfully, being fucked like a cheap whore.

It was impossible. This was not what Dad and Mom did. They were not swingers. They would definitely not have sex with people they barely knew. And yet, there they were. Through the window, I heard Mom start screaming in orgasm. Maddy's dad pulled on her hair, and Mom's back arched as she bucked back into him. Spittle flew from her lips. She looked like she was actually drooling, and the whole time she screamed louder and louder. 

My knees went weak, and I slid to the ground. What the fuck was happening? Above me, from the window, I heard the sounds of my parents fucking and being fucked. 

"Where do you want it?" Maddy's dad yelled.

"My face! In my face," my Mom returned. This was not my Mother; it was some porn star, sex-starved and depraved. I closed my eyes and tried not to imagine her, pulling away from Maddy's dad and swiveling around, going to her knees. I tried not to visualize Mr. Tasker's cock erupting with streams of thick, white cum and splattering it across Mom's face, into her hair, cum running down her neck, cum spooling on her breasts. 

I heard Mr. Tasker cry out. He was finished. On cue, my own dad howled and went quiet, no doubt having an orgasm of his own. I remembered Maddy the day before, watching while I had cum within her mother. Was she there now? Watching?

I wondered who had left the blinds open. Someone had wanted me to see. 

With quaking fingers, I pulled out the card that Sarah Tasker had given me. I believed her. Now I just had to figure out what the hell I was going to do about it.



Girl Next Door Ch. 03



For the next week Jimmy was hesitant to even peek outside to see if Miranda was there. If he had, he would have seen her coming out and peering up at the window he'd been watching her from, shrugging when she saw he wasn't there, and doing a regular swim. But she'd frightened him rather badly, because he knew that watching her like that was definitely a crime - even if she was a tease. Still, she had the right to be swimming naked and masturbating in her own backyard right? And he wasn't supposed to watch. 

That seemed a little wrong, expecting an awful lot of a guy his age, but still. He didn't want to get in trouble either. 

So it was by complete accident that he caught her out there, swimming around naked again. Unfortunately for him he didn't realize that Miranda had seen him as well, she hid a grin, eager to show off some more. Although she did think it was sick of him to be watching her, she didn't seem to be able to help herself from taunting him. It was a kind of backhanded compliment that he would be so interested in what she was doing...

Ever since the first day, she'd seen him watching her, although admittedly not until after she'd cum on the first day. But still, knowing that he HAD been watching her had been kind of... intoxicating. And it had been even better when she knew that he was watching as she fucked herself with the dildo... well today she had another toy. Still a dildo, but this one had two prongs, a larger one for her pussy and a smaller one for her ass. Next door neighbor Jimmy was going to get one hell of a visual treat!

She knew it was wrong to taunt him, but it really turned her on to know that he was watching. Hypocritical, but who cared? It added to the experience to call him nasty, knowing that she was dirty for doing it in front of him. 

Jimmy knew that he shouldn't be watching again, but he was pretty sure that she hadn't seen him. He was looking out of a different window than he'd ever stood in before, and she didn't give any sign that she had seen him. Surely after yelling at him teh last time she would definitely mock him for trying to look again.

Sighing happily as she got out of the water, the liquid sluicing off her body and leaving her skin slippery and glistening in the sunlight, he drank in her beauty through his eyes. Her naked body was just spectacular, and he could already feel his dick getting hard; it was especially exciting because he'd been denied his watching activities for the past week. Now he could sit back and enjoy himself again, although he didn't know why she would continue to be naked in her backyard when she knew that he could see her from his house. Whatever, he'd never been able to figure out what was going through girl's heads before and he doubted he was going to be able to now.

She stepped over to the chair, sitting down in her usual position and rubbing her nipples, playing with them idly. Although blood surged to his dick, it also surged through his head a little... just what did she think she was up to? Playing with herself like this again when just last week she'd yelled at him for watching her. Ok, so he wasn't supposed to be watching, but wasn't there something wrong with the fact that she was playing with herself? Right out there in the open where he could see? Especially when she knew that he had watched before?

But these thoughts all flew from his head when she pulled out her toy; a strange looking dildo that seemed to have two dicks on it, his brain stalled trying to figure out how she could use it. Rubbing the smaller dildo with oil, she then moved the toy down between her legs; the small one pressed up against her ass and the larger one against her pussy hole. Miranda's mouth opened in an erotic groan as she began to push the toy into her body, invading both her holes at once. 

Poor Jimmy was almost faint with lust, seeing her do such a nasty thing... putting a dildo into her pussy and ass at the same time... his dick was rock hard and his hand was around it and pumping before he'd even registered what he was doing. He watched, fervently fisting his dick, as she slowly moved the dildo into her body. Stopping on occasion to pant and gasp before working it even further into her holes; every time she stopped he held onto his dick without moving his hand and gasped along with her. 

Every particle of his being was humming with pleasure as she played with herself, the toy finally buried in her holes completely... and then she started to thrust the dicks in and out.

Miranda was ecstatic as she fucked herself with the toy, feeling so full and so naughty... with her eyes only half open and somewhat hidden by heavy lashes, she felt free to look over to where she knew her next door neighbor was watching. He was there, as usual, and she could tell that he was playing with himself. For a moment she wished wistfully that she could watch him play with himself... but having him watch her excited her even more. It gave her a sense of confidence and made her feel desirable... teasing him made her feel naughty and lustful. Her back arched and she moaned as she thrust the toy deep into her holes, feeling them fill her up...

Moaning loudly she watched as his face contorted with desire, feeling a flare of triumph as she knew he was picturing himself in her body, rather than the dildo. Her holes clamped down on the toy and she began to shriek with ecstacy, writhing and thrusting on the chair, the knowledge that he was watching just making everything all the more intense. Low groans alerted her to Jimmy's orgasm, and she smiled in malicious completion.

Standing, she watched him cum, the window open so that she could hear his soft moans and see his ecstatic expression. With his eyes closed he didn't see her watching, hands on her hips as he came. When he did finally open his eyes, his heart sank as she was again standing there with a nasty look on her face.

"Enjoy that asshole?" she called over to him, "I knew you wouldn't be able to keep from watching! Damn... get a life you perv!"

And with that she stalked inside.

Jimmy stood at the window, his head and groin in complete turmoil. On one hand she was right, he definitely shouldn't be watching, it was illegal and she should be able to do what she wanted to in her own backyard. On the other hand, what kind of girl actually sat and played with herself more than once when she KNEW that someone was watching? And she had the nerve to call HIM a perv?! 

Anger and frustration festered, grimly he stared at her backdoor. Just wait... the next time she came out to play with herself... well. She'd be getting quite a surprise, that's all. 



Girl Next Door Ch. 03



I drove my dad's old car- which sucked because he had cheap taste. It was a dented, light blue Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera, only about a thousand years old. He said owning an official "Piece of Crap" first car built character, and he often pontificated how high school kids driving brand new sports cars and SUVs could only grow up to be major league assholes. Of course, I knew from firsthand experience that most of those kids would never grow up, and most of them were already assholes.

It was funny to think that my Dad, the guy who said old cars built character, was presently fucking the hell out of my new neighbor's Mom, a woman he barely knew. When I say funny, I definitely do not mean it in the "ha ha" sense. And as if this was not bad enough, my Mother was being fucked in the very same room by Maddy's dad. 

It seemed more than improbable. It was impossible. That just wasn't my parents. Yeah, I'm sure they did things they didn't want me to know about, but I knew them well enough to believe with certainty that they were not swinger material.

And yet, my cock remained hard as I remembered the scene, no matter how disgusted I became. 

I flicked on the overhead light and checked the address on the card given to my by Sarah Tasker. I recognized the street and thought I knew at which motel she was staying. It was a little off the beaten path, a good place to party without worrying about parents driving by and recognizing cars. Needless to say, I had been there more than once. 

I turned off the light and drove. My body felt weak, but I had forced myself to the garage and in the car after discovering my parents at the Taskers. This was the kind of thing that could not wait. 

Bits of Sarah's story twisted through my mind. For instance: the fact that her family had taken off without telling her. If that was the case, how had she found them? I thought about what she had said about finding the bodies of her new neighbors, about how they had looked: drained, withered, mummified. 

I tried to make sense of it, but nothing seemed to fit; nothing rational, anyway.

By the time I pulled into the motel, I was more confused than ever. Sarah had written her room number under the cell phone number on the card she had given me: number 4. The number gleamed in the yellow cast from my headlights. With a heavy sigh, I twisted the key, and the ignition stuttered to a stop. I sat for a moment, listening to the slowing tick of the engine. 

The motel was a rundown hulk: urine-colored buildings surrounded by droopy, leafless trees. The few rust-buckets that littered the parking lot looked suspicious, the kind of cars one's drug-addicted cousin would drive. Whenever nice cars were in the lot, you knew it was kids from town, partying. Apparently, no one felt like partying tonight. 

I pushed the car door open and approached Room 4. I wasn't sure how to act or what I would say when Sarah opened the door. She'd probably be pissed I was waking her up, and I considered turning around and going straight home, wait until morning before coming back. But, as I said before, this was something that couldn't wait. Something... unnatural was happening to my family. 

I lifted my fist to knock on the door, hesitated, and brought it down with a loud rap. Something creaked within the room, probably Sarah shifting on the bed. 

"Who is it?" she called.

"It's me... Maddy's neighbor."

I heard footsteps. Something rattled- the chain, and something clicked- the lock. But the door didn't open. Instead, I heard the footsteps back away, and Sarah's voice on the other side. 

"Come in," she said. Though this kind of demand struck me as odd, I did so. I pressed the squeaky metal latch down and pushed the door open. I thought vaguely of a story we had read my freshman year in high school: "The Lady or the Tiger." The pit of my stomach filled with dread; I would not have been surprised if something unnatural, something fanged and hungry, awaited me on the other side. 

The door revealed the lady. Sarah Tasker stood in an unremarkable motel room. No tigers. Sarah was neither fanged nor drooling, but a handgun pointed at me from one hand. I seemed to register the gun with indifference. At this point, I was too tired to be afraid. If Sarah was going to shoot, then go ahead and shoot, my body seemed to say. 

Instead, she lowered the gun. She motioned for me to come into the room.

"Just a precaution," she said, tossing the gun on the bed. I nodded.

"Yeah, never know who's going to show up at a lady's motel room in the middle of the night. I could be a vampire," I said with a twisted grin. Sarah didn't return the smile, and I didn't blame her. The remark wasn't very funny. 

She reclined in a rickety chair, one not unlike the ones in the student lounge at school: cheap, barely cushioned, and stained. She heaved a heavy sigh. I noticed that she was still fully dressed, as if prepared to charge into action at a moment's notice. 

"So what are you doing here?" she asked.

I took a seat at the end of the bed. The mattress creaked. I felt springs dig into my ass like bony fingers. I idly wondered if places like these were ever rated negative stars. 

"I believe you." I paused, shaking my head. "Well, I'm not sure I believe you, but I believe something is going on," I struggled to explain. I still did not believe the Taskers were vampires, but I was starting to think that maybe there was a kind of superhuman or supernatural aspect to them. There had to be if they had managed to turn my parents into sex-hungry maniacs. 

Sarah opened her mouth to reply, then closed it and frowned. She blinked. Then she looked down at herself. Her hair was light brown- as if unable to decide between the amber of her mothers and the dark black of her fathers, and scoops of it hung over her face as she glared down, gently touching the area of her jeans between her legs. 

"Holy shit, I'm dripping wet," she observed.

This revelation caught me by surprise, even considering the outrageous activity I had observed (and partaken) earlier that evening. 

"They've tagged you," she said and lifted her eyes to catch my own.

"Um, what?"

"They must have something, some pheromone or something. It makes them irresistible. That's why it's so easy for them to seduce you without question. They've already tagged you with it. They're preparing you," Sarah said, her words quickening, stumbling one over the other as she spoke. 

"Prepare me?" I said. The conversation was absurd, yet it also made me uneasy. There was something irresistible about the Taskers, after all; I knew as much from experience. From the first moment I had seen Maddy, I had- well- LOVED her. It was something too strong to be explained away by lust or want or even simple teenage obsession, but was it something subconscious? Something that could be explained by... pheromones? Still, I couldn't imagine how Sarah Tasker could know all of this. She had either discovered something that she hadn't said, or she was making this crap up off the top of her head. 

"Ah, god. We're not going to be able to finish this conversation until you fuck me. I am seriously soaking over here," Sarah said. She didn't sound horny; the tone was more businesslike. As if the fact that I was going to have to fuck her was an inescapable- if unwanted- necessity. 

I shook my head. Despite the fact that Sarah was attractive, I didn't think I had it in me. The night had just been too strange, and I was too exhausted. Also, the moral dilemma of fucking Maddy, her mother, and now potentially her sister held some weight. I can't say that I regretted it, but the awkwardness of the situation had a negative effect on my boner capability. 

"Can't," I said.

"You have to," Sarah said, and she popped out of her chair, threw herself across the room, and gripped the top of my shorts and boxers, her fingers slipping under the elastic. With a harsh yank, she had me naked from the waist down in a second. 

Before I could stop her, she had me in her mouth, sucking hard. Her hands were at my balls, caressing and rubbing. My mouth gaped open, and my tongue lolled. 

"Get hard," she said, her words muffled by the cock bulging her cheek. My body surprised me by responding to her manipulations. I lengthened in her mouth as she stroked then sucked. In short, I got hard as ordered. Maddy and Mrs. Tasker must have tagged me with not just pheromones but the kind of stamina I had previously believed existed only in porno movies. When I was at full potential, Sarah stopped and patted me on the thigh.

With a wink, she said, "Good boy." 

She stood up and unbuckled her pants. I watched as she undressed, my mouth filling with drool. The body hidden beneath Sarah's buttoned-down, dark blue shirt and jeans was both athletic and voluptuous, the kind of body that most women admired with bitter jealously and men with unbridled lust. I realized with some dismay that Sarah was more attractive and hotter than Maddy, and yet, she did not fill me with the kind of limitless lust that Maddy did. When I had met Sarah, I had not had a single sexual thought about her, and that just wasn't natural for an eighteen year old boy with a permanent erection in his pants.

I began believing Sarah's words just a little more. Of course, at this rate, I should have believed every single thing she told me. My life felt like an adult movie crossed with a Bram Stoker novel. 

Sarah slipped out of her jeans, unbuttoned her shirt, and slid it off her shoulders. Her breasts heaved within a plain white bra. My eyes widened when I saw the dark, wet splotch at the crotch of her panties. She had not been kidding when she said she was soaking wet. 

I couldn't help myself. I went to my knees and pulled at the waistband of her panties with my index fingers.

"What a friendly boy," Sarah sighed above me, and then I was lapping at her like a thirsty dog. Her vagina was surrounded by curls of dark pubic hair. It scratched my cheeks as I drank her. Her juices dripped and were caught by my waiting tongue. 

I felt her hands fist into my hair, pulling. She gave a shivery sigh. 

With my left hand, I tickled her clit with my tongue. With the other, I held the soft curve of her ass cheek and pressed her closer to me. My lips brushed her vaginal lips; my tongue darted and licked and lapped. Her scent was strong and musky and she tasted tangy, slightly bitter, but delicious. 

Sarah seemed to enjoy what I was doing to her. Perhaps Maddy's oral tutoring was more effective than I realized. As my tongue flickering in and out of her, Sarah sighed, and her slight tremors skittered down her body. 

"Be careful," she whispered, "I squirt."

I heard it, but I can't say I fully listened. Instead, I kept at what I was doing, not heeding her advice. I should have because a moment later, Sarah barked, and an explosion of thick liquid exploded out of her and splattered against my face with unanticipated force. 

"Jesus," I said, my face dripping. 

Then the phone rang, an old-fashioned 'brang' that sent needles of sharp pain through my temples. Sarah sat up, and whatever pent-up sexual energy that had been in her a moment before had vanished from her features, transformed apparently into the sticky mess on my face. 

I realized with some frustration that I would not be getting mine for awhile. 

Sarah propped the phone between her chin and shoulder, leaving her hands free to scribble notes on a pad of paper on the nightstand with a cheap pen. She kept nodding and saying, "Yeah, uh huh, okay." Her naked womanhood still glistened with her juices in the dim lamplight. 

When she hung up the phone, Sarah said, "We have an appointment tomorrow."

"Say what?"

"There's someone who may be able to clear some of this up for us. I've been doing some research, and I set up a meeting with an expert. We'll have to drive into the city. Up for a trip?" Sarah said, her glance flicking between me and the chicken-scratch she had scrawled on the notepad. 

I hesitating, wondering whether I wanted to wade deeper into the insanity this woman was proposing. It would be so much easier to go home and hope things went back to normal. Then I thought- again- about what I had seen my parents doing. I needed to get to the bottom of this, especially if Sarah Tasker was telling the truth, and our lives were in danger.

"Yeah, sure," I said. 

"In the mean time, we should get some rest."

I stood there, uncertain. Sarah frowned. Then she said, "So I'll see you tomorrow." 

Feeling confused and frustrated, I gathered my clothes, haphazardly dressed, and stumbled out the door. Sarah watched with disinterested eyes, annoyed that I was still in the room after I had been dismissed. 

On the ride home, my mind raced. I couldn't get a fix on Sarah Tasker. At one moment, she was tearing off my clothes, the next she was kicking me out of her room with a look that was usually reserved for the homeless or deformed- utter disgust. What was her deal? 

The whole thing felt like a dream. I thought about Sarah telling me I had been tagged. With what? Pheromones? The absurdity of the whole idea made me want to burst out laughing. Only if I started laughing, I wasn't sure if I could stop. 

The headlights of the car caught a shape on the side of the road, white-and-black in motion, a girl walking. She wore a ragged black jean mini-skirt, a black tank top, and black boots that came up to her knees. Based on her appearance, it looked like she hadn't planned on taking a hike. 

I am not entirely sure why I pulled over. I'd like to tell you it was because I wanted to help this girl out, give her an innocent ride home, but I also think I wanted to put some of what Sarah had said to the test. My foot pressed subconsciously on the brake. 

The car came to a slow, gravel-crunching stop beside her. I rolled down the window and asked, "Need a ride?" 

She was cold. I could tell because she was rubbing her goose-pimpled, bare arms with her hands. Her fingernails were painted black; I supposed to match her shirt and boots. Based on her dyed-black hair and overdone eye makeup, I figured she was Goth or Emo, or whatever the hell her particular group liked to call itself. An obligatory nose-stud gleamed in the moonlight. 

"Yeah, sure," she said. 

I leaned over to the passenger side and pushed the door open with a screech of metal. I motioned for her to get in the car. 

"Come on," I said. 

She looked around, as though she didn't want to be seen getting into a car with a guy who wasn't covered in tattoos and piercings, and slipped into the seat. She smelled like cigarettes and beer. I thought about the pathetic vehicles that had been parked at the motel. I wondered if one of them belonged to her boyfriend.

"Coming from the motel? It's a long walk back to town," I said, thinking my guess was probably right. It was. 

"My asshole boyfriend wanted a threesome. Fuck that, man." 

"Well, that's more information than I expected," I quipped, "but yeah, sounds like he's an asshole." 

The girl turned to look at me. A crooked smile broke through the indifferent façade of her face. I tried to keep my eyes on the road, but I could tell from what I had seen that if she'd let her hair go natural and if she took that stud out of her face, she'd be good-looking. She had a nice, if thin, body, and a pair of small, pert breasts poked from under the fabric of her tight t-shirt. Her legs were pale but trim and long coming out of her skirt. 

"MEN are assholes," she said. "You'll be less of one if you have a cigarette." 

"I don't," I said, laying on the apologetic tone thick. I had been told I was an asshole so many times that the word had lost its meaning. I wore the insult almost as if it was a badge of honor, but how was this girl supposed to know that?

"I'm sure you have something I can smoke," and yes, there was a hint of sluttiness infused in her voice. Then I heard her moving in her seat and felt her hands on me. Her tongue came out and flicked the lobe of my ear. 

I had never met this girl in my life. Sure, it could have been someone from school. If so, I didn't recognize her. She was a stranger to me, and yet, she was going to fuck me. I knew it as confidently as I now knew that Sarah Tasker had told me the truth. 

It was that easy. I had done nothing to seduce this girl; hell, I didn't even know her name. I had only picked her up off the side of the road. I could only grin as I felt her petite hands slide over my crotch and knead my softness into hardness. This was not mind control or hypnotism. I had done exactly nada to make this girl come on to me so unexpectedly. Still, it couldn't have totally been something like pheromones either. That was too hard to swallow, even then.

Again, I brought the car to a slow stop in the gritty dust at the side of a deserted, back road. 

"Hell of a way to get back at your boyfriend," I said as her head dipped into my lap. The adrenaline of imminent sex made my senses hyper-alert. I heard the sweet, familiar sound of a zipper opening. Hot, wet warmth encased me. Immediate, electric pleasure coursed through me. 

"Fnnnnnnnk hmmmmm," her reply was muffled by the erection bulging her cheek. 

She became a bobbing bulge of dyed back frizz between the steering wheel and my abdomen. I smiled, sighed, and reclined the driver's seat to allow us a little more room. There is nothing like getting head from a girl you barely know. It makes you feel like a stud to get a girl to blow you five minutes after she's met you, and head, in general, makes you feel like a god. 

I closed my eyes and gripped the sides of her head with my hands. Sarah Tasker had made her family sound as though they were evil. And yet, they had given me something, something that I knew I could use and enjoy for a long, long time: irresistibility. If that's what it really was, the opportunity it provided seemed limitless. 

After a few minutes of being stroked into Emo-girl's sloppy mouth, I began to get antsy, and I said, "So do you want to fuck or slobber on my dick all night?" 

The comment was rude and demeaning, and she should have gotten pissed off and left me. Instead, her head came up, her mouth met mine, and we crawled into the backseat in a frenetic mass of limbs and gyrating torsos. 

They don't make backseats the way they used to, I can tell you that much. Nowadays, you have no room for some old-fashioned backseat lovin'. Since my hunk-o-junk was circa mid-eighties, I had no complaints. The back of dad's old car was positively roomy.  

I pushed Emo-girl against the seat and went to my knees on the floorboard. My fingers hooked her skirt and pulled it down her smooth, close-shaved legs; naturally, she was wearing no panties. The smell of her femininity filled my nostrils immediately. Much like Sarah Tasker had been, the girl was dripping. However, this time I had learned my lesson. Rather than waste time, I impaled her immediately. 

She squealed in pleasure, and I thrust into her savagely, beast-like, my hands squeezing her breasts hard, probably painfully. Emo-girl did not protest, merely squirmed and squealed louder, sounding not unlike an annoyed pig having its tail pulled. I felt my buttocks flex as I clenched, and I felt Emo-girl's black-painted fingernails digging divots into them. 

She was tight and felt good, but I had no desire to extend myself beyond what was necessary. 

Perhaps angry about what had happened with Sarah, I filled Emo-girl with cum after about thirty seconds. I was not fucking her to prove I was Don Juan; I was merely fucking her because I could. This wasn't about her. It was about me, and I was going to get mine. I gnashed, clenched, peaked. Then the frustration of being tossed out of Sarah Tasker's room squirted out of me with warm, throbbing pulsations. 




Girl Next Door Ch. 03



"More, more," Emo-girl whispered breathlessly. But while she was still lost in the lust of her impending need, my need had already flooded into her. 

"Get the fuck out of my car," was my less-than-courteous reply. Now that my head had cleared, I realized that I had to get rid of this girl fast. What if someone I knew happened upon us? I reached past Emo-girl's head, pulled up the latch of the door, and pushed it open. 

"Asshole." This was the only word she said as she hiked up her underwear and skirt and left. 

Once I was rid of her, I peered up at my sand-bagged eyes in the rearview mirror. Hell, I needed some sleep. A vague concern about Emo-girl getting home came and went like a passing car. I'd left her no worse than I'd found her, alone and somewhat confused at the side of the road. Well, I hadn't left her totally alone, I figured. A warm little piece of me was probably oozing down the side of her thigh right about now. 

***

At home, I avoided any contact with Mom and Dad, and I took a hot shower. This was usually just the thing to clear the head. I leaned into the stream of cascading water, felt the stream jetting over my skin in a misty spray, and I inhaled the clean, thick humidity of the steam. 

I'm not sure when exactly I began wondering how I could turn my newfound desirability to my advantage, but I remember having one or two kernels of ideas peck about my brain during that shower. The incident with Emo-girl had set me to wondering. Thinking back, I would have probably waved off these thoughts as nonsense, and nothing much would have come of them if my cell phone hadn't ringed. 

As it happened, my phone chirped out its by-now-irritating ringtone as I was toweling off. I checked the caller ID and saw that it was Stephanie, my best friend's girlfriend. Stephanie- hot, tanned, blonde, unavailable Stephanie. As I flipped open my phone, I felt a twitch in my penis. 

"Hello?"

"Hey," Stephanie returned. "I hate to be a pest, but something's fishy with my pool's pump. Think you can drop by, maybe take a look?" 

"You're not a pest. Sure, I can do that. When's good?" I said the words, and already my mind and heart were racing. I realized that this could be the perfect test for what Sarah Tasker had told me. I could figure out this pheromone shit, once and for all. Emo-girl was certainly a strange occurrence, but did it really prove anything? The girl could have just been a tramp, plain and simple. But Stephanie, she was a triple threat: stuck-up, prudish, and my best friend's girlfriend. 

"Whenever," Stephanie said. "It's already almost noon."

This took me by surprise as had many things in the past three days. I threw a quick glance at my watch on the bathroom counter and saw that she was correct. How had time slipped away? I could not remember sleeping between the time I had left Emo-girl to make my way home and my shower. And I couldn't have showered for eight hours, could I? I must have fallen asleep, but I simply could not recall when.

"Give me half an hour," I said.

"Awesome, thanks!" Then the phone went dead in my ear. How like Stephanie to assume everyone would drop what they were doing to fix her problems. I doubted she'd even say 'thank you' if I helped her out. Well, typically. Maybe today was to be different. I looked down and saw that my penis was semi-erect. I felt a sly grin curl the corners of my mouth. 

I glared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and said, "Today, you have permission to be an asshole."

I tiptoed through the house after I dressed, but it seemed all for naught. My parents' bedroom door looked firmly closed. I remembered how I had felt after the double-whammy of Maddy and Mrs. Tasker; perhaps that was a little of what my parents were feeling now. If so, that would put them out of commission for a while. 

***

Stephanie answered the door in her bikini. It was black and tight, showing off her lithe yet curvy body, her full breasts, her petulantly taut yet round ass. Again, this was so like Stephanie to flaunt herself as if to tease, "This is what you will never have." She was the kind of person who would wave a bloody steak at a bunch of starving dogs but would never let them have it. 

Today, the dog was going to have his steak. 

"I flipped the switch for the pump to come on, and all I heard was like this gurgle, and then it just moaned and stopped working," Stephanie was saying, already waking away and expecting me to follow like an obedient pet. She had barely given me a glance, and I felt a twinge of uncertainty. Perhaps everything that had happened had been mostly imagination and circumstance, after all. 

I couldn't help but watch her rear end at work, rhythmically swaying within the hugging confines of the bikini bottoms as she led me into the backyard. Stephanie's legs glistened with suntan lotion; I could smell it wafting off her in fruit-salty waves. Her blonde hair was tied up in a sloppy bun at the top of her head. She had hidden her eyes behind a pair of huge sunglasses, the kind that were more like car windshields than eyewear. I hastily swallowed the saliva that had begun to gather within my mouth. The drooling dog and steak metaphor was hitting a little too close to home because I wanted to take a bite out of that ass then and there.

We came to a stop a little ways past the pool. The pump was hidden by a small hedge, and I had brush past Stephanie to get to it. I wasn't sure if she had blocked my way just enough to make me have to brush past her, my bicep ever-so-subtly touching her breast through the thin fabric of the bikini top; if so, then there was a chance for my experiment. 

"What do you think?" Stephanie asked as I leaned over the pump to take a look. I could smell the scent of burnt-out machinery. She was going to have to replace a motor. I turned to face her and give her the bad news, the kind of news that makes your wallet want to curl up and die. 

"Not good," I said, looking up into the twin reflections of her sunglasses. Within them, I appeared twisted and stretched as if trapped within a funhouse mirror. I never understood how those things had become so popular. I guess anything Paris Hilton wore was destined to become a fad; even her sex tape had proved marketable. 

"Shit. My parents are gonna flip," Stephanie whined. She wiped her wrist across her forehead, smearing a line of sweat there, and yet even her sweat was glimmering and sexual. I suppose that's how it is with California blondes. They can't even blow their noses without giving a man an erection. 

I shrugged. "We could maybe work something out. I think Ben has an old motor that could work." Ben was the name of my best friend and Stephanie's boyfriend; he and I had worked cleaning pools every summer through high school. I had taken this summer off, but Ben was working. This was why Stephanie had called me. She had hoped I could solve her problem for free while Ben would be obligated to charge her for his services. 

"Really?" Stephanie said. Her eyebrows arched high and hopeful above the square frames of her monster sunglasses. She reminded me of a cartoon bug with her expression, albeit a cartoon bug with a stacked body. I nodded, and she threw her arms around me in an exaggerated hug. 

"You're the best!" she exclaimed, her breasts mashing into my chest, her hands around the small of my back, her crotch kissing my own before pulling away. And when she did, I couldn't help but notice the dark splotch at the tip of the inverted triangle of her bikini bottoms. 

"Oh my god," Stephanie said in a small, shocked voice. "I'm so horny. Look how wet."

I looked. She was quite wet. That stupid word danced across my brain yet again: pheromones. Hell no, I thought. This kind of reaction could not be explained away with pheromones. 

"Wow." This interjection was all I could think to articulate. I believe the rising tent of my shorts told the rest of the story. Without another word, I grabbed her arms and pulled her into me. She did not resist but rather threw her mouth at mine and hungrily latched on me with animalistic lust. 

Stephanie blindly stripped me of my shorts. Her hands found the elastic, gripped, and yanked them down. Following her expert lead, I untied her bikini bottoms, and they drifted to the ground. I couldn't help but wonder how often she had demonstrated this kind of desperate passion with Ben, and I figured probably not much. The habitual Stephanie was too focused on maintaining an aura of indifferent coolness most of the time as evidenced by how she had greeted me less than five minutes before. Now she bent over the pool chair and arched her back, presenting me with her round, heavenly bottom and the glistening slit between her legs. 

I happily took what was offered. My cock led me like a flagpole, hard and erect, and I plunged within Stephanie with a piratical grin stretching from ear to ear, teeth gnashed, brow furrowed in concentration. I forced my eyes to stay open and set my brain to record, memorizing every detail for future playback. 

My best friend's girlfriend moaned as I gripped the sides of her bottom and pulled her harder into me as I thrust forward. I had fantasized about her more than once, but then she had seemed unattainable. It was laughable how quickly, how easily, she had bent and spread to accept me within her hot, wet folds. Her pussy sucked at the root of my cock, milking it with intense pleasure, and I pulled my eyes away from her so as not to spend too quickly. Unlike Emo-girl, I wanted to take my time with this one.

I felt the sun baking my shoulders, and Stephanie around my dick. Sweat peppered us both and gleamed in the noon light. The reflection of yellow glinting off the water of the pool, off the condensation of a glass of Coke next to the pool chair (which Stephanie must have been sipping when I arrived), all gave the situation a feeling of being hyper-real. 

I feel revitalized, reenergized, rejuvenated and all those other good words that begin with "re"; everything that Maddy and Mrs. Tasker had stolen from me had come back by screwing Emo-girl and Stephanie. This could have been seen as a figurative thought if not for what I saw as I doggy-fucked Stephanie. I looked down, and it took a moment for my brain to process. The pinkish-flesh color appeared to be fading from Stephanie's lower back and being... absorbed... into me. While my mind screamed, my body kept thrusting and plunging and, yes, stealing her... color? Energy? Life? I could literally see the bluish-grey veins under Stephanie's skin as it turned pale and translucent. I felt the essence of her- the health of her- leak into me like the fluid from a glass poured into another glass. 

The sight of it revolted me, and I took an instinctual step back, my cock pulling out of her and shriveling up as if it had been caught in a sudden arctic wind. Stephanie's moisture trickled off me and splattered onto the concrete around the pool in thick, syrupy splotches. 

"What's wrong?" Stephanie murmured as she slipped back into consciousness and out of her lust-driven reverie. Her eyelids drooped as if she was half-asleep. "Don't worry. Ben won't find out."

I shook my head, unable to speak, not even close to being able to come up with an explanation of why I was so suddenly pulling up my shorts and backing away from her. I turned and rushed away, leaving Stephanie with only her pleading whines to not go, to stay and fuck her. 

When I got in the car, I saw I had a missed call. I had left my cell phone in the car's beverage holder between the seats, a habit I had picked up since cell phones were not supposed to be carried around school. I flipped it open, but the number was not one I recognized. I considered forgetting it and just going back home and calling it a fucking day, what with the unholy revelation that my cock sucked out the life of other people and all, but then I remembered Sarah Tasker and I were supposed to meet up for some mysterious "appointment." 

I hit redial, and sure enough, the familiar voice of Sarah Tasker answered with a curt, "About fucking time."

"What's up?" I replied.

"Come to the motel and pick me up. I want you to meet someone. Someone who can help us both." Her voiced sounded hopeful but not convinced. I thought about seeing through Stephanie's skin, at the blood coursing through her grey-blue veins like rivers on a faded map and decided that it was a chance I had to take. 

"I'll be there in ten," I said and flipped the phone closed without a goodbye. Two could play the short, sweet, and indifferently rude game. I started the car and headed towards the cheap-ass motel where Sarah Tasker was staying. 

I have to admit, after Emo-girl and Stephanie, even despite the horror of seeing the life drain out of one of them and into me, I couldn't remember ever having felt better.



Girl Next Door Ch. 04



I felt like Sarah was consciously ignoring me. She said nothing when I met her at the motel, barely looked at me when she pointed at her pick-up and we piled in, and then grunted at the questions I attempted to ask. 

An example: "Where are we headed?" 

Her murmured reply: "You'll find out soon enough."

Eventually, I gave up. I figured she was too afraid of a situation like the night before, when she had become so horny that she had made like a water grenade all over my face. Instead, my thoughts turned to Stephanie. Whatever was happening was beyond rationality. I had witnessed my best friend's girlfriend's life-force being sucked into the head of my cock, and that reached a level of fucked-up shit past comprehension. 

The strange part was that it made me feel powerful. Literally powerful. I felt more alert, more aware, and more alive than I had ever known. I wanted to be disgusted by this, but instead, I was fueled. I wanted to know what was happening, so I could understand it, not stop it. At that moment, the last thing in the world I wanted to do was to stop it.

It felt too good. 

Eventually, Sarah took us into the city. She seemed to know her way around, taking side-streets and back-streets that I hadn't ever used or known existed until we pulled to a hasty stop in front of a weather-worn shop front. The awning held no lettering, and no sign sat propped in the window. Apparently, the owner felt no desire to advertise.

"Here we are," Sarah stated the obvious. As we exited the pick-up and approached the door, I peered through the store windows. I saw books, jars of herbs and spices, and a few candles- nothing particularly interesting. It seemed to be more or less a knick-knack shop. 

"I thought you were taking me to an expert, not the Salvation Army," I said, hoping to annoy Sarah. It worked. Her eyes narrowed as she twisted her head to glare at me. Her pupils were like the points of twin arrows aimed at my soul. I resisted a shiver.  

"Just keep your mouth shut, and your ears open," she commanded. Then she pushed into the shop. I followed, admiring the old-fashioned tinkling of a bell hung over the door. It reminded me of pharmacies in movies from the 50s, and I felt a little like the Beaver. Not that I'd ever seen an episode, way before my time, and Nick-at-Nite was something I was aware of but had no interest in. 

Once inside, I gave my surroundings a quick looking over. The interior of the shop looked as indecipherable as the exterior, old crap piled on old crap piled on old crappy shelves. Behind a shoddy counter, a gremlin with Coke-bottle glasses gave us a crooked-toothed grin. 

"Ms. Tasker, I presume?" the gremlin spoke with a voice that made me think of tortured kittens. Its teeth wobbled like loose piano keys stained yellow with age. It had a hairdo like Yoda: white, sparse, and wild. 

Sarah nodded, and the gremlin turned to open a door behind it. Without looking back at us, it waved its withered hands and said, "Let us speak of demons."

***

"What do you know of the succubus and incubus?"

We were seated around a small, round table covered with a purple cloth. At its center like a pale, melting finger, a candle flickered and dripped wax. It reminded me of a gypsy scene in a werewolf movie, and I supposed that made me Lon Chaney Jr. 

The gremlin apparently had a name, but it was a low, garbled greeting. All I had caught was Madam G...rubble-grubble-blarf, but I didn't dare ask her to repeat it in fear of the handgun I noticed protruding from the jeans at the small of Sarah's back. Hereafter, I will refer to her simply as Madam G. 

"Female and male demons that come to you at night and force you into intercourse, or so that's the myth," Sarah replied to Madam G's question. 

"So we're not talking vampires?" I said, momentarily forgetting the threat of Sarah at my side. I felt the heat of her glare at the side of my face, but I kept my attention focused on the gypsy/gremlin, Madam G. 

"None of these labels fit the being you're dealing with, but these are terms familiar to you and possibly helpful to your understanding," Madam G said. "Vampires are said to possess a certain irresistibility but do not live on sex. Succubi and incubi are not generally irresistible, but they are essentially sexual. These are all inventions of man to explain what cannot be understood by the natural world." 

"And so what are they?" Sarah asked in a breathless voice. Madam G leaned forward in her rickety wooden chair, a sharp creak echoing through the room in response to the slight movement. 

"The creature, call it what you will, is an urge. It attaches to your soul and spreads like a disease. Nymphomaniacs, sex addicts, they are infected with it. Of course, these are lesser, sometimes controllable forms of the demon."

Madam G looked directly into my eyes and held me there. 

"What you have inside of you..."
 "How do you..." I began, but Madam G cut me off. Her eyebrows squished together like touching wisps of clouds as her forehead furrowed. Her gaze bore through me. 

"... is a seed, planted. A seed that grows from one thing and one thing only. Lust. Lust is what feeds it; lust is what makes it grow. It cannot survive without it. It is a parasite that grows, eating lust, growing larger until it wears the skin of its host, and the host becomes nothing but a shell." 

"Does it move from host to host?" Sarah asked.

"It plants seeds, but it is incapable of leaving a host once planted," Madam G said. 

"Can it be killed without killing the host?" I said, almost afraid to ask, but I had to know. My mind flashed to Stephanie. I remembered how her skin had become transparent; I had seen the blood pumping through her veins. I didn't want that happening every time I fucked a girl. 

"If you catch it in time." At her words I thought of the desiccated corpses Sarah Tasker had described finding in her neighbors' home. Were they examples of those who had not purged their demons in time? Madam G continued in her thin, harpy voice.

"You must starve it, deny its lust until it withers and dies," Madam G said. "It is a task easier said than done. The hunger of the parasite is potent. But it can be done."

"You're sure?" I didn't mean to force the issue, but as I asked, I could feel my voice quiver. Not only was my life on the line but all of Sarah's family and my own. The last thing I wanted was for my Mom and Dad to become lust-driven sex fiends for the sake of my own sanity and also the potential nausea. 

"Absolutely sure, young man, as I was once infected myself. In the end, I won, but the..." her lips peeled back into a grin over broken, yellow, piano key teeth, "intercourse was fun while it lasted." 

At the thought of the gremlin engaged in any activity of a sexual nature, I almost puked. 

***

We spent the first half of the ride back in total silence. The pick-up's engine rumbled like the inevitable thunder of an oncoming storm. Dread mounted with suffocating weight. Each moment brought us closer to home and closer to a decision. I peered out the window, through my own reflection, at the blurry grays and greens of the passing scenery. 

Madam G's words were hot coals searing into my brain, and my thoughts had become a fire. They threatened to blaze out of control. I admit, I was still of two minds. How to save my family and also to maintain my current state of irresistibility? How to quiet the demon but still tap its power? 

"What do you plan to do?" I said. Just speaking aloud seemed to slice through some of the tension. Sarah's jaw tightened as she ground her teeth. 

"We have to starve the beings inside them against their will," she said through a clenched grimace. Her hair had been tied in a severe ponytail, and her face looked strained, stretched taut. She was like a rubber band at its breaking point; at any moment, she could snap. I wondered what she had been like before, back in college, an attractive coed worried about her finals and not about sex-sucking demonic energies reducing her family to mummies. 

"And how do we plan to do that?" I said. 

Her eyes were blazing spires of emerald fire as she responded, "We'll need some rope." 

***

We went into my place first since it would be less of a job, just Mom and Dad rather than three people. A spool of rope slung over one shoulder, I opened the front door with brown work gloves and felt like an intruder breaking into my own home. The hallway clock tick-tocked its reliable tune. Were we really going to tie up our parents and keep them from acting out on their sexual appetites? I had no idea of how long it would take to starve out the... demons. Was that what we were seriously dealing with? Demons? The very idea of the word "demon" used as a concrete reality sent my mind reeling. 


Sarah quietly closed the door behind us, the only sound a soft click as the latch slid home. She gave me a curt nod, and we headed up the stairs, wary of making noise. My nerves screamed with every creak, but I kept myself in check. I wondered if Sarah was as freaked as me, but if so, she hid it with aplomb. She had a better poker face than the Terminator.

Honestly, it went easier than I expected. My parents were more or less groggy zombies and put up no fight at all. Even when we knotted their wrists and ankles to the bed, they only spoke with sleepy murmurs. Their eyelids drooped, blinds from the outside world. They allowed themselves to be positioned and manipulated like clay figures.

"No problem," I said when we finished, slapping my hands against each other, but as if fate had a sarcastic response, the doorbell rang. Sarah scuttled to the bedroom window and peeked past the curtain. She turned to throw a harsh glare (I swear, she should have patented that thing) in my direction. I felt like I was being laser-sighted by a Marine sniper, and my brains were about to explode out of the back of my skull. 

"There's a girl. Get rid of her quick. I'll meet you next door," she ordered, allowed the curtain to fall back into place, and shouldered past me.

Left alone, I sighed. Sarah Tasker was beginning to frustrate me. Despite her attractiveness and the fact that she had more or less seduced me the previous night, she remained an elusive, angry Amazonian warrior. I had a growing feeling that she'd as soon kill me as kiss me, and that was not a comforting thought. 

My parents were gagged, and I checked their knots before making my way downstairs. The last thing I wanted was them making a ruckus or escaping while I had company. I mean, that would just lead toward embarrassment, right? 

Once ready, I gathered myself, and with a deep breath, I pulled open the door. My jaw dropped when I saw Stephanie behind it. A yellow and red cheerleading outfit clung to her shapely figure, her legs tan and long under a matching skirt that I couldn't imagine was school-approved. She smiled, her teeth bright, perfect and white as the door revealed her. 

I remembered how I had left the poor girl: sweaty, bent-over, begging for satisfaction as I backpedaled away from her in horror. But this was not a girl who took "no" for an answer. She was the kind of girl that got what she wanted. 

"Wh... what..." I managed, the sentence both starting and sputtering to an end in my mouth. 

"You need to finish what you started," she replied and forced her way into the house.

It all happened very quickly, but I'll do my best to be as descriptive as possible. That's why you're reading after all, isn't it? You dirty devil. 

Steph pushed her body into mine while simultaneously wrapping her arms around my torso and pulling me to her. Her tongue lashed out and whipped my mouth with warm, wet saliva. I reeled backwards and lost my balance; this was due to Stephanie adding a disproportionate amount of weight to my upper body by lifting her legs and hooking her heels above the curve of my buttocks. We pinwheeled to the floor in a messy tangle of arms and legs. 

She must have kicked the door behind her because I heard it slam closed with a vibrating thud. 

We landed awkwardly on the hallway floor, but this didn't keep Stephanie from covering my face with slobbery tongue licks. She was a California cheerleader nympho on speed. Steph attacked me with a vigor that I had not previously thought her capable, and my stiffening cock responded in kind, aching to be freed from the restraint of my shorts. 

Stephanie's manic hands soon did just that, her fingers dancing to my zippers and ripping it down with a kind of graceless, urgent lust. She stroked me out of my boxers and guided me under her skirt, her hips lifting momentarily before lowering again, and I groaned as I felt her sheath me with her moist warmth. Apparently, Stephanie had no time for foreplay, but I wasn't about to complain. 

I tried to force my eyes to stay open. The sight of Stephanie riding me like a cowgirl in Buffalo Bill's Wild West Rodeo was the kind of mental picture show you wanted to file away into the back of your mind for future use. I could hardly believe what I was seeing: her lust-filled eyes blaring with need; her tongue sliding over her moist pink lips; her hair swaying over her shoulders in shimmering, bleach-blonde locks; her full breasts perfect and mouthwatering in the restraints of her cheerleading top; the sheen of sweat glistening on her skin. 

Even her low, breathless, panting murmurs, "Oh, yes; oh, yes; oh, yes," was enough to make a seasoned porn star want to drop to his knees and beg for more. 

It was impossible to think that within the last few days I had fucked as much as I had in my entire life: Maddy, her mother, Emo-girl, Stephanie, even orally with Sarah. The fact that the quality of these women were 10s all around- with the possible exception of Emo-girl who was at least an 8- boggled my eighteen-year-old mind. My reality had literally become fantasy. 

The gremlin-lady, Madam G-whatever-the-fuck, wanted us to starve the lust demon out of me, but what kind of butt-fucking retard would I be to want to do that? 

I had been called an asshole so many times by the girls at my school, I half believed the label. And why shouldn't I be an asshole? What were these girls but a bunch of prudish, manipulative bitches? Now it was my turn to get what every man wanted, and few would ever manage. 

Case in point: Stephanie. She flaunted herself every day at all of us but refused to back up what she offered. Instead, she prided herself on frustrating the hormones of every male she met. Until now. 

Her hands clawed at my chest, and she cried out, tears leaking from her clenched eyes, as she came on top of me. 

My eyes rolled up in my head, and I closed them. Stephanie was a heavenly vision, and I wanted to extend this moment for as long as humanly possible. Watching any more of her could have sent me to the cliff's edge and over, and I didn't want to go there yet. Instead, I lost myself in the darkness behind my eyelids. I gripped Stephanie's hips with my hands and forced her to keep going, to maintain the impossible pace, and she met the challenge with girlish, whispery moans. 

I'm not sure how much time passed. I remember the feel of her weight on me, up-and-down, up-and-down, the force of impact sending vibrations through my entire body. The room seemed to spin, and I kept my eyes closed, afraid that if I opened them, I would swoon in a fit of dizziness. It was not unlike sitting down or lying down when you were drunk. The world was a top, and I was centered on its axis. I heard Stephanie, sounding far off like a voice in a distant cave, but I'm not sure when her sighs became screams. 

Screams: when I registered what I was hearing and that it wasn't the typical sounds of unbridled passion, my eyes flew open. Stephanie was still on top of me, but she looked nothing like the girl that I had seen before closing my eyes. I bit back a scream of my own. 

The thing on top of me appeared wrinkled, gray, and desiccated; it was the corpse of something long dead, not the form of a voracious young woman. The only aspect of Stephanie I recognized was the red and yellow cheerleading outfit still adorning her body. 

She reached out to me with one withered, decayed hand and then died with a rattling rasp: "Maaaattheeeeeew...."

I realized with some dismay that I felt absolutely amazing. Power seemed to emanate, to throb from every orifice of my body. I thought of a line from Romeo and Juliet, the one where Capulet is really letting his daughter have it, and he's so angry that he says his fingers itch. I kind of knew what he meant at that moment, for my fingers itched, tickled, and tingled with energy. 

I threw the corpse away from me with disgust. It made a scraping, rustling sound as it hit the floor like an old hornet's nest. I ran a hand through my hair and choked back an inexplicable urge to giggle not with encroaching insanity but with overwhelming joy. 

I managed to reason: "Get rid of the body."

Pulling it through the house reminded me of dragging a dead, dry log. I imagined the corpse's arms could break in my grip, and I was half-curious to see if I bent them the wrong way if they would snap off like tree limbs. 

I opened the basement door and pushed it down the stairs. It crunched and clumsily clattered to the cement. Bits of it seemed to crumble, leaving behind gray ash on the stairs where it had hit. I flung the door shut and locked it. I'd come back and stash the corpse more carefully later; for now, I needed to get next door and help Sarah take care of the Taskers. Then I'd have plenty of bodies, alive and dead, to deal with. 

***

As I made my way to Maddy's house, the sun on my skin, a warm breeze ruffling my hair, I suddenly understood the lure of drugs. The crackheads that hung out behind the gym were on to something, after all, if their high was anything like mine. The rush overpowering me at the moment made me feel invincible; it throbbed in the core of my being with a crackling energy. It made a joke of the energy drinks I used to caffeinate my way through finals. 

It was a feeling I'd pay a fortune to have again. 

By the time I reached the Taskers' door and placed my hand on the knob, I wasn't sure if I had come to help Sarah or to stop her. Any sense of moral responsibility had drained out of me like air from a leaking balloon; my only real desire was to maintain my high and to keep the power that Maddy Tasker had bestowed, either wittingly or unwittingly, on to me. 

When I opened the door, I could hear Sarah yelling, but her voice was muffled and unclear. It sounded like she was upstairs. Something thudded rhythmically against a wall or perhaps the floor or both, and after a moment, I realized it was the bed. 

They'd gotten to her, and the most chilling aspect of this thought was the fact that the creatures had taken over the bodies of her own family. 

"Sarah was always a Daddy's girl," Maddy's voice said behind me, putting vicious words to my thoughts. I turned to face her; already my mind raced to put some form of plan together. Things had unraveled while Stephanie had unknowingly distracted me, and without Sarah to keep me focused on the task at hand, I was not sure that I could hold off the advances of Maddy Tasker. 

In fact, Maddy looked mind-blowing. I ached for her just seeing her there, red hair draping her shoulders, bright eyes sparkling with a glint of deviancy, her luscious body accented by a form-fitting green dress. My mind flashed to the first moment I saw her, and it was like looking back at a different life. It hit me how much my world had changed in the short time this girl had been next door.

Maddy must have read my thoughts because she glanced down at herself and said, "You like?"

I could do nothing but swallow and nod my head. Thinking back, it was at this strange moment that I began to piece some semblance of a theory of what had happened to me and how I could use it to my advantage. Seeing Maddy, I wondered why I hadn't had the life drained out of me during the time I was with Mrs. Tasker and then her. It had taken only one time, really, well... maybe one and a half times to suck the life energy completely out of Stephanie, so why wasn't I a mummified, dried-out husk the way Stephanie was? 




Girl Next Door Ch. 04



First off, let me admit that my theory is a little shaky, but keep in mind, I got a D in Biology and really only passed because of a lot of sucking up to a new teacher who thought I was cute. Anyway, I remembered something we had read about viruses and how they sometimes mutate when any kind of cure or new situation develops that might restrain it from spreading or growing. If this... infection... I had was anything at all like that, or perhaps even a new chip off the evolutionary block, perhaps my strain was stronger than that of Maddy and her mother. 

I remembered Sarah telling me that she had found the Taskers' nameless neighbors, the ones we had inferred had passed the virus/demon/fill-in-the-blank-with-your-own-fucking-guess to them, mummified in the basement. Had the Taskers done that? 

"Why don't we go into the bedroom and get a little more comfortable?" Maddy suggested and held out her hand. Ever the loyal zombie, I took it and allowed myself to be led down the hallway and towards Maddy's room. My eyes did not leave her ample bottom as it swayed in the cheeks-hugging, jade dress. 

The alluring siren and I slipped into her room where her mother waited for us both. Mrs. Tasker sat up from her position in Maddy's bed and allowed the sheets to fall, revealing her breasts. She must have sent Maddy to collect me when they heard the door open; they had both been waiting for my arrival. My heart sped; it felt like it had leap-frogged its way into my throat. The thought of a threesome with mother and daughter about set my pants on fire. 

"Oh, good," Mrs. Tasker said in a coy tone, "you've brought dinner."

The two of them stripped me in seconds. It was like being caught in a whirlwind of hands: grabbing, groping, unbuttoning, unzipping; and then I was nude and vulnerable, my erection eagerly pointing towards the North Star. The warnings of Madam G were no longer of any consequence. 

Then the Tasker women pushed me to the bed, and they attacked me like buzzards on a fresh carcass. Between the two of them, I wasn't sure if I had any chance of survival, but in the heat of the moment, their tongues lashing out and wetting my throbbing, fleshy pole, I did not care. 

I briefly thought of Sarah... Daddy's girl... and the sound of her being taken by the parasite that wore her father's body. But then she was gone, and all I knew was Maddy and her mother fighting for dominion over my body. 

Maddy gripped my wrists and held them down, her breasts swaying in my face, and she peered down at me, her face upside-down from my position. I met her gaze and held it, the challenge in my eyes daring her to do her worst. She wore a slight grin, but it faltered as her confidence wavered, ever so slightly. She had seen something in my expression that she didn't like. But then her hesitation passed, and her grin spread from ear-to-ear.

"Enjoy it while you can," she said in a husky whisper. 

"I will," I grunted as Mrs. Tasker speared herself with my cock. I cried out, an intense blast of pleasure coursing through my entire body. My vision went black, but when it returned, hazy dots receding from my eyes, I caught Maddy's attention once again and met her smile with one of my own. I would not let her have the pleasure of seeing me succumb. 

Maddy snarled in response and demanded, "Harder, Mother, harder!" 

Mrs. Tasker thrashed on top of me, grinding, her abs flexing with effort. Sweat covered every square inch of her, and under any other circumstances, it would have been an enviable sight. But this was no lust-filled fuck; it was a war between two opposing sexual energies, two demons, and I was determined to win. 

I gnashed my teeth, intent on matching Mrs. Taskers' enthusiasm. I could feel the culmination of our power ebbing and flowing; the entire room seemed heavy with mounting potential energy. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I thrust up and down, and Mrs. Tasker ground upon me, swiveling and bouncing and moaning, her face set in a determined but frustrated grimace. 

"C'mon, fuck him!" Maddy shrieked above me. The smile had permanently been wiped from her pixie face. My hand crept to base of Mrs. Taskers' body, and I began to thumb at her clitoris. She responded with a shivering sigh. 

The pace could not be maintained, I thought, but- like the old Energizer bunny commercials- Mrs. Tasker had reserves of energy that kept her going and going and going. My abs began to ache with exertion. My breaths came in haggard, raspy gasps. I could feel something, something essential, draining out of me; I wondered if this was what Stephanie had known the last few moments of her life. 

Still, I met Maddy's mother's fuck and used my hands on her, hoping for some desperate chance of survival. All of it seemed to be doing no good. Finally, I looked up into Maddy's eyes; they blazed with victory. She glanced away to check on her mother's progress.

"Mother?" Maddy said, her voice edgy with concern. Urged to confidence by the tone of her voice, I pushed hard and deep into Mrs. Tasker with one, last urgent thrust. 

"GAAAAAAH!" was Mrs. Taskers' response. A wet splash of feminine orgasm gushed against my crotch and abdomen. And as she continued to fuck me, latched on like a suckerfish, I saw the color rushing out of her; her eyes sucking back into her sockets; her skin withering up and cracking; her hair fading from amber to grey to white; and I knew that I had won. 

"No!" Maddy cried, and she leapt away from me, terror leaking from the corner of her eyes in fat, liquid drops. Her nude, perfect body shivered in the corner of her bedroom, looking not so much of a soul-sucking demon as a frightened child. 

The thing that used to be Mrs. Tasker slid off of me with a crackling rustle and disappeared off the side of the bed. I could feel her stolen essence nourishing my body, filling me with energy. I understood the appeal of vampires to all those fucking Emo-losers at school now; this was their fantasy, to become powerful by not just defeating your enemy but devouring them. I sat up in the bed, and for good measure, sank my foot through the dead Mrs. Taskers' mummified head. It was like stepping on paper mache. 

I turned and placed my attention directly on the quivering nymph I called Maddy Tasker. 

"No," she whispered. I nodded.

"Yes." 

At first I thought that she was urinating on herself, but as I approached, I realized that the fluid leaking from her was not urine but syrupy, thickening female lubricant. Maddy was so wet, it was pouring down her legs in waves. Meanwhile, my own stomach glistened with the juices of her mother's final orgasm. I snickered. Although the poor thing had whispered her denial of my advances, she now fingered herself in anticipation of my inevitable entry. 

"You've got something inside of you," I said, not sure why I was bothering to speak to the pathetic, loathsome creature in front of me, "and I am going to fuck it out." 

She shook her head, red hair swishing from side-to-side, but her words betrayed her: "Oh, god... yes, please, yes."

I pointed my cock at her, and she squealed, a splash of female ejaculation flying from the manipulations of her fingers. I laughed; this was going to be fun. Only days ago, this girl was an innocent fantasy; now she was my quivering sex slave. The mere sight of me sent her into quaking orgasm. This was the culmination of everything the Taskers had put me through in the last week, and faced with the beautiful, cowering Madeline in front of me, I felt it all had been worth it. I stood over her, triumphant. 

"Open your mouth," I ordered, and she complied. I gripped the sides of her head and slid my entire length down her throat. She gagged, gooey spit splattering my cock, but in the end, she managed. I moved in and out, slowly face-fucking her, enjoying the forced degradation. She stared up at me with wide, wanton eyes. Tears continued to flow down her cheeks, glistening like diamonds in the muted sunlight streaming from her bedroom windows. It was the most wonderful sight I have ever seen. 

Then the bedroom door flung open; it crashed against the wall from the force of impact, sending a shelf from its perch above Maddy's dresser and clattering to the floor. Stuffed animals rained to the carpet. Revealed in this open doorway, Sarah Tasker stood, covered from head to toe with a layer of crimson blood. 

"What are you doing?" she demanded to know. 

I froze. The sight of her dripping red splotches on the white carpet shocked me back to sanity. I realized in that moment that I had been responsible for the deaths of two people, and that fact hit me like a sack of hammers swung into my head and gut. I had not been thinking clearly since I had zapped the strength and vitality of Stephanie and made it my own; I had been riding on the back of a superhuman, supernatural high. It had filled my brain with a hyperactive haze, blurring rational thought, and clouding any sense of conscience. But the ride was officially over. 

When I looked down, I saw my cock still half inside Maddy's mouth, my erection bulging the side of her cheek. With some disappointment, I slid it out with a wet pop. 

"They attacked me. They knew we were coming," I said. Sarah nodded, strings of her hair matted to her forehead with gore. I didn't ask what had happened, but I figured we wouldn't need the rope to tie her father. She held a blood-soaked butcher's knife in one hand. A weighty silence hung between us for a moment, two naked warriors considering the cost of their private war. Finally, Sarah broke it. 

"Mom?" she said. I shook my head in the negative. I prayed that she did not ask for the particulars because I had a suspicion she would be less than impressed I had sucked the life-energy of her mother through my cock. Sarah sighed, a long and lonely sound. The sigh seemed to have a thousand meanings, more eloquent and yet sparse than anything she could have put to words. 

"Tie her up," she said and motioned towards Maddy. Maddy had gone still and silent like a brain-dead mental patient. She stepped out in the hall, then returned a moment later with a spool of rope in hand. She tossed it to me. I tried not to notice the smears of blood on it. 

I set about my work quickly; Maddy allowed herself to be moved and restrained without complaint. She only murmured random pleas quietly under her breath: please, don't stop, fuck, fuck. I tried not to listen, mentally urging my cock to soften before Sarah noticed my raging, purple-headed erection. I didn't want her to do to me whatever she had done to her father. She probably considered me to be just as dangerous. 

When I finished, Sarah said, "Just one last thing."

I turned around to ask what it was just in time to see the butt of the butcher's knife coming to land squarely between my eyes. Then I only saw blackness.

***

When I came to, I found myself tied up in my own basement. The cement floor was hard and cold under my face like a slab of tombstone. I sat up, shook the clouds out of my brain, and attempted to get my bearings. I quickly discovered that I was not alone.  

Maddy was knotted up and gagged on the other side of the room, and my parents were in a similar predicament as well. The bodies of Stephanie and Mrs. Tasker were stacked in a dark, cobwebbed corner behind a shelf of Dad's wines. The only reason I knew they were there was because I could see the red-and-yellow of Stephanie's cheerleading outfit from between the wine bottles. As for Mr. Tasker, he was nowhere to be found. 

I understood Sarah's strategy at once; she had us tied up in the basement in the hopes of starving out our demons. This was the flimsy plan that she and I had come up with on our drive home from Madam G's shop. At least she had bothered to dress me. I was in a t-shirt and shorts underneath the coils of knotted rope. 

Unlike Maddy, Sarah had not gagged me. I saw that my father was but not my mother. I caught her attention and asked, "Where is she?"

Mom said in a shivering voice, "Upstairs, somewhere. Matt, what is going on?"

I licked my dry, cracked lips, deciding the best way to respond. I went the conservative route. 

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Something to do with the Taskers. They're... disturbed."

My mother did not reply. I knew she was probably remembering the night she and my father had spent with the Taskers. I remembered hearing the sound of her begging Mr. Tasker to shoot his load on her. I bet she had similar thoughts on her mind. I wondered how much of this situation that she had Dad understood; probably more than I realized unless they were in total denial. 

The door at the top of the basement stairs opened, sending bright white light cascading down the basement stairs. This was followed by the figure of Sarah Tasker descending, her footsteps loud thuds in her heavy-duty boots. My mind raced. Now that she had seen the corpse of her mother, had she put things together? Was she going to shred me apart with a butcher knife the same way she had probably flayed her own father? I waited for her arrival with bated breath not with excitement but with mounting dread. 

She wore jeans and a dark blue buttoned-up shirt, the shirt she had worn when we had first met. I remembered thinking that it made her look ready for hard labor. Her footsteps clamored towards me. My heart matched her approach with pulse-pounding throbs. She hovered over me and then knelt down. 

"Sorry," she surprised me by saying, "but I have to be sure."

"Of?"

Instead of answering, she said, "What happened over there?" 

I had always been a talented liar. I explained to her how Mrs. Tasker and Maddy had surprised me; how I had fought them off; how they had restrained me; and how they had fought over me to the point that Maddy had devoured her own mother. My story was not totally coherent and did not hold up to much deliberation, but neither did anything that had happened to me over the last few days. I could only hope my mixture of truth and fabrications could fool Sarah.

To my relief, she appeared to buy it. Sarah nodded. I could hardly believe my luck. Then she took out a knife, and my heart wanted to explode in my chest. I thought for a moment that she was going to cut me to bloody shreds despite my initial belief that she had swallowed my whale of a tale. When she used the knife to saw through my bonds, I hid a grateful gasp. 

However, when I looked into her eyes, I realized that Sarah was not all there. Something was missing; her eyes were dead, expressionless, the eyes of someone already in the grave. When our gazes met, I knew that she had gone completely mad sometime after (or during) the murder of the thing that had been her father. It was that simple. It wasn't anything she had said or anything she had done; it was the look of her eyes. And I just knew. 

"Take me upstairs," Sarah said. 

Did she want to die? Did she want me to kill her? Did she want me to suck the life out of her and end the insanity, the madness that had stolen whatever remnants of Sarah Tasker that was left? I don't know, but in that instant, that is what I planned to do.

Some of my ex-girlfriends have called me an asshole. You may call me an asshole. But I propose to you: faced with the power of undeniable sex, the power to have anyone you wanted; would you give it up? It's easy to sit there and judge, but I have a feeling that you are just as weak, just as shallow, as me. 

Sarah led me upstairs, and then I led her to the couch. Slow and silent, it was like the final march of a death sentence, but I think we'd have a whole lot more people on death row if their executions were anything like Sarah's was going to be. 

Already, the crotch of her jeans had turned dark and wet with her moisture. Silently, I unbuttoned her shirt. She stared at me without seeing, looking through me as I caressed her breasts and bared them by removing her bra. She mechanically helped me slip off her jeans. She lay down, her gaze moving to the ceiling and staying there, peering at something that only she could see. Her actions made me think of a virginal sacrifice, the kind of ritual you now only see in the movies. Obedient and willing, the girls give themselves up indifferently to their barbaric gods, and Sarah would be given to the King Kong of cocks. 

By the time I got to pulling off her underwear, they were soaked. I unzipped and pulled down my shorts, my erection already swollen and stiff with anticipation. I hesitate to describe it as hungry, but considering the demon inside of me, hungry is not a bad adjective. As if drawn by magnetic attraction, it zeroed in on Sarah's dripping slit and disappeared within it. 

Entering her was divine. She was oily and tight, and I was a perfect fit, more so than the other women I had experienced. There was something otherworldly about our connection, two opposites balancing, a unification of ying-and-yang. For the first time, my mind swooned not with power or shock but with sheer pleasure. 

I moved with a smooth, consistent rhythm. Sarah's hand found the nape of my neck and held me there, caressing the patch of skin between my hair and shoulders. We met each other, back-and-forth, like the motion of a boat upon a restless ocean. Her body was hard and soft in all the right places; her flat stomach making a sweet clapping sound as it met mine.

After a moment, I wondered where her other hand was. I peeked open my eyes to see Sarah reaching behind her head, pulling something from under the couch pillow behind her head. The object glinted in the lamplight glowing from the nearby end table. It was a butcher's knife.

I had not fooled her at all. Sarah Tasker was going to put an end to me as she had her father.

My arm came up just in time. She slashed, and a sharp, burning pain flashed through the flesh of my forearm. I cried out and kicked myself off the couch. My head smacked against the coffee table, and a glass coaster tottered and plopped to the floor. Seeing through a blur of dizzying stars, I snatched it up, and as Sarah rolled towards me, the butcher knife cutting through the air, I swung the coaster and caught her on the side of the face.

I heard her cheekbone crunch, and Sarah bounced backwards, losing balance, and she flopped off the other side of the couch. I stood up, readying to strike another blow, when a bang resounded through the room, a bullet ripped through the back of the couch and missed my head by inches. A sickening thought hit me: she'd stashed a fucking gun under the couch.

I turned and ran. Another bullet whizzed past me and exploded into a framed picture of my family, a fitting end to my story if there ever was one. Using the glass coaster as a discus, I tossed it towards the rising figure of the Sarah and bought myself a few precious seconds as she had to duck out of the way. With these earned seconds, I snatched the hanging keys to my parents SUV from their spot above the coat rack and tore into the garage, tearing open the door and slamming it shut behind me. 

I thanked God that my parents had left the garage doors open, but I had a growing feeling that it wasn't God on my side. It was something else, something infinitely darker. In moments, I was behind the wheel, starting the ignition, and burning rubber down the driveway as Sarah Tasker appeared in the door and leapt out after me. 

She didn't fire again. I suppose she was afraid of alerting the entire neighborhood and possibly the county. She may have already done so, but I didn't stay to see if anyone had called the police. 

As Sarah and my home receded in the rearview mirror and finally disappeared from view, I could not hide my eager smile. Suddenly, wonderfully, the entire world was open to me. 

***

And that, dear friend, is the beginning of my story. I always wondered what it would be like to be the villain, but being the good boy I was, I never expected to find this hypothetical dream a reality. 




Girl Next Door Ch. 04



I have not attempted to make any contact with my family. As far as I know, they are dead at the hands of Sarah Tasker. A part of me hopes that Maddy has not made the same fate. I expect that she would be a fun traveling companion, and I hope that our paths will some day cross.

Then again, perhaps Sarah starved all of their demons out, and they have been restored to relative normality. This alternate solution is one for which I have no desire. It'd be like asking LeBron James to give up basketball or Gordon Ramsay to stop saying "fuck." 

Instead, I revel in the fact that I have become something greater than human. 

Unfortunately, I suppose every Dracula must have a Van Helsing, and that is how I met mine in the form of Sarah Tasker. I suppose we will meet again some day; that much seems inevitable. In a way, I look forward to it. 

Until then, I drive, wander, and of course, eat.