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Nancy the Girl Next Door Ch. 1

By: ReturnedOne



"C'mon in, Nancy," I said as I opened the door. It was our neighbor. We share what is romantically called a "townhouse" by the new neighborhood residents, but to those of us who have been here for many, many years, it is a "twin" or a "double" in the west end of our city. It is only lately that the transplanted "yuppies" of the 1980's have been giving these old homes new lives and, I guess, appropriately enough, new names.

Nancy and Mike have lived next door to us for about ten years now. They are an apparently happily married couple with three children – Lauren, 12 their natural child, Richie, 9 and Kayla, 5 both bi-racial adopted children. They are perfect neighbors for an older couple – quiet but very friendly and always willing to help out with anything. Mike is an insurance salesman who still hits the road for long days. Nancy is a stay-at-home mom who dotes on her house and her children and has done a very nice job with them, both my wife and I agree. Nancy actually grew up in the house next door and when her parents passed on in an accident a bunch of years ago, she and Mike inherited the house. So, the entire neighborhood was already familiar with her, and I'd known her through childhood, puberty and those terrible teen years.

They are church-going Catholics who send their children to local parochial schools and who apparently adhere to all the tenets of Catholic family life. So, it was a bit of a surprise when Nancy showed up on my doorstep that early Sunday morning at a time when they are usually at Mass. (I am sort of a lapsed Methodist, and while my wife continues to attend church and is involved in seemingly dozens of meetings, committees, circles and share groups, I putter around the house on Sunday mornings doing those things I didn't seem to find time to do during the week.) My wife and I are retired and semi-retired. That is, I am a fully retired educator and only put in a few hours each week at the local community college, helping out an old friend who is now the president of the college. My wife is a half-time secretary at the church. I tell the reader these things to set the stage for the tale I am about to relate.

Nancy walked in and looked around. Though we are good neighbors and good friends, I realized as she looked over the living room/dining room combination, that she and Mike have really only been in our house once before. We just don't travel in the same social circles – big difference in ages, I suppose. She commented on the fireplace with the built-in bookcases on either side, and other items in our house that were different from hers even though the other half of the double is a mirror copy of ours. I could see she had something on her mind and offered her coffee. She accepted, and as I poured I asked her what she needed. Help with something heavy? Something from our kitchen? I asked where Mike and the kids were and she told me that Mike had taken the children to his mother's church this morning. She was not much for his mother and decided she had a very bad headache and could not attend. They would most likely spend the entire day with his parents and not get home until evening.

She said she just wanted to talk a minute, then asked a very strange question. Did I think my wife would mind if I showed her the upstairs of the house? I chuckled a bit and told her that if my wife found out I had a beautiful young woman upstairs in our bedroom, she'd call the local mental hospital and have me committed because I would be certifiably insane. Nancy laughed a small laugh and moved as if to leave the table. I took her cue and led her back into the dining room and up the stairs to our bedroom. She looked in and just sort of hmmm-ed and then asked what we used the front bedroom for. I walked her down the hall, past the bathroom and the extra bedroom we use for our grandchildren when they come to visit, and into the front room, which we have converted into sort of a computer-room/den/office/exercise room. It is large, light and open and it is a great place to do any of the former activities.

"Ahhhhh," she exclaimed. "Now I understand." She was looking at my bike on the stationary trainer in the corner of the room next to the wall that separates this room from her house. "Does that make a noise when you ride it?" I told her it did, and asked why. "Well, my daughter has been complaining of something humming 'in the walls' in the evening when she is doing her homework. They could not figure out what it was and she thought she would ask to see our room to see if we had some sort of machinery against the wall.

I asked if she wanted to try out the bike and see for herself. She agreed, and said she always wanted to get one of these to put her bike on for the winter months when she didn't ride outside, but wasn't sure if it would be worth it. I told her that it was certainly worth it and I kept this bike on the trainer year-round so I could get some exercise even when I was too lazy to go any distance. She made a move as if to mount the bike, but it was so high off the ground, she had to climb onto the pedal first and swing her leg over the saddle to get on. It was apparent she was not going to be able to do that as she was wearing a short denim skirt that didn't allow for much leg-lifting. I was just about to say that she could try it some other time when she was dressed properly, but she surprised me by loosening the tie in the back of the skirt – it turned out it was a wrap-around sort of thing – which gave her greater ease with her legs. 

She climbed up, flipped her leg behind her and sat on the saddle, turning the pedals at some deliberate speed. The hum immediately filled the room. I never realized that the bike made this much noise because I usually wore a headset connected to the stereo nearby so I could set up a rhythm to my riding. The bike was an old off-road model with a knobby back tire and it made a huge humming noise when it rolled on the base rotor.

She seemed to be having a good time and began to perspire just a bit. I asked her if she wanted to get in a workout while she was here, but she said she didn't have time. She continued pedaling and told me she loved to ride but just didn't get enough time to do it with Mike's long days. She didn't like to leave the kids alone. I told her she could come over here and ride my trainer anytime she wanted to and the kids would be just next-door. She beamed at the idea, speeded up, and I could not help but catch a glimpse of well-muscled thighs and pink panties under the short skirt as she slowed her pedaling.

Nancy obviously saw me look and giggled a bit. "What are you looking at, Ed? This isn't the outfit I would normally ride in, you know." I told her I would just love to see her in Spandex shorts, but it might overtax my aged heart. She laughed out loud and said she thought I was flirting with her. I told her that, yes, I was; but at my age I had forgotten why. She laughed again and told me she was sure that was not true and that I was probably chasing the young coeds at the college all around the campus. I said, yes, I was, but by the time I caught them I was never sure why I had been chasing them in the first place.

We had another laugh and she moved to dismount. Now, this was a challenge and she did not have exactly 100% success. When she moved to get off the saddle, her skirt caught and she wound up standing beside the bike with her skirt pulled up to her waist, giving me an absolutely riveting view of beautiful legs and high-cut pink panties. What surprised me most, though, was that she didn't immediately shriek and pull at her skirt. Instead, she turned toward the bike, which only served to pull the skirt apart in the back and give me a view of the cutest little ass I have seen in so many years I cannot remember.

Let me give you a quick overview of what was in the room with me. Nancy is tiny. Perhaps only 5' 3" tall. Very small, maybe 105 pounds. Blonde (I would think natural, since I remember her as being blonde as a young girl). Very slender. And the tiniest set of breasts I've ever seen on a grown woman. I am not much for bra sizes, but I would guess that she was no more than a 32 or 34 A-cup, I think that is how they are measured. But with all the exercise she does – running and riding – her legs are magnificently proportioned and well muscled. She is certainly a well-kept lady.

Well, here I am, at 60+ years with a 33-year-old, adorable ass staring me in the face. What's a man to do? I whistled. Yep, childish though it may seem, I whistled, as I would have when I was 16 or so. Nancy laughed and managed to loosen her skirt enough to get it off the saddle and nearly back into proper position. "Like what you see, you dirty old man?" she laughed.

"Absolutely! But I will probably have to get new batteries for my pacemaker," I joked back.

Now she surprised me with another request. As she re-arranged her skirt and moved away from the bike and motioned down the hall, she asked, "Can I see your bedroom, Ed?" I was a bit nonplussed at this, but told her it was right down at the other end of the hall. She took the dozen or so steps it takes to get there and looked around for just a minute or two and then returned to where I was standing. "That explains it," she stated. 

"What in the world are you talking about? That's the second time you've said that today."

"You moved your bed. When I was a kid, my room was right through that wall. I could sometimes hear you at night … you know … in bed. But I don't hear you any more."

I laughed out loud at that one. "My dear Nancy; believe me when I tell you that moving the bed had no bearing on what you heard in that bedroom. We just moved the bed about a month ago when we re-painted. You haven't heard anything through the wall for years, dear, but moving the bed was not the reason," and I continued to chuckle.

"OK, you dirty old man; what do you mean by that?" she casually asked.

"Well, Nance, if you really want to know – and I think we've known each other long enough for me to say what I want to say without you getting all huffy and offended – there simply hasn't been anything to hear for more than 20 years now, if you know what I mean." And I gave her an abbreviated run-down of my wife's slanted religious views of sex after a family has been established. I didn't pull any punches, but didn't add any embellishments, either. I just let her know that it was my wife's idea that there be no sex between us, as simply as I could.

"Oh, my God!" she whispered, as she got redder in the face. "I didn't mean to pry…I'm so sorry … What was I thinking about to ask that … Oh, damn, I put my foot in it there, didn't I?" all ran out of her mouth in one long sentence of embarrassment.

I took her by the shoulder and patted it as I would a very young daughter and told her not to mind her curiosity. I thought it was cute when she told me she could hear us years ago. I asked her if she ever laid over there on her side of the wall and wondered what we were really doing over here on our side, and she told me that she understood about what we were doing, but never really had any concrete information when she was that young, so she could only imagine what it was like.

I asked her, "No books? No dirty magazines? No pictures?" and laughed again.

She admitted that she and Kristen – the girl across the street – had stolen her father's Puritan magazines and had looked at a lot of pictures, but never actually did anything about it until a lot later when she went to college.

"Well," I told her, "at least you waited until college. Too many kids get themselves in real trouble by starting too early and not knowing how to handle it."

"Oh, I started earlier than college," she admitted as we sat down on the sofa-bed in the office, "I just didn't ever go all the way until college. I was scared, that's all."

The conversation was taking a turn I had not truly expected, but found rather titillating, to tell you the truth. But her next set of statements rocked me back on my heels.

"You know, Mike and I don't have sex anymore, either. I guess he's too busy, or maybe I'm not attractive enough anymore, or something. I know he's not fooling around anywhere, 'cause he's just too busy for that. But I miss it sometimes. I feel funny telling you all this, but I've known you since I was a little kid and somehow it doesn't seem all that bad, does it?" And she looked up at me with such a pathetic little smile on her face that I felt immediately sorry for her and her plight…incredibly young to have to look ahead to a sexless life. I knew she would not go out and look for an affair. She was a very good Catholic girl – too good for that sort of thing.

I answered her little monolog with a few choice comments: "I don't ever want to hear you say that again about not being attractive enough anymore. That is pure bullshit, and you know it. Did you ever take a good look in the mirror, Nancy? You are absolutely delicious! Not in a movie-star-huge-bust-sexy-mouth-come-screw-me way; but in a delightfully clean and innocent way. You probably drive men nuts at the grocery store and in church and at the mall and never even know it. The truly sexy women never do, you know."

Her eyes got a bit wider and she breathed out, "Do you really think I'm sexy? You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?"

I took a huge chance right then and there. I already had one hand on her shoulder, and I now followed it with the other and lifted up and bent down so that I could kiss her right on the mouth. I did it with as much slow, soft, tenderness as I could. I did not smash her lips into my mouth or tongue-wrestle with her. I just kissed her and held her very tightly by the shoulders so she could not pull away. But she really didn't attempt to, anyway. As I released her lips, I simply said, "What do you think I think?"

She backed away from me and touched her mouth as if she'd been burned. I figured that it was all over and she was out of here and my wife would get a huge anecdote about her degenerate husband when she got home. But no, she hardly moved at all for a good, full minute.

When she did move, it was directly to me, pressing her head to my chest and wrapping her arms around me and squeezing me so tight, I thought those tiny little breasts were going to punch holes in my stomach right through the t-shirt. I had the fleeting image in my mind of her crying, but it didn't last long. She stood up on tiptoes and I got the idea. I bent down and kissed her again. This time, her arms went around my neck and she pulled herself into me, tightly.

I decided to really play the game here and stood up straight, with her arms around my neck and my hands at her waist. I lifted her entirely off the ground and her body slid against mine and stayed there. This time, our kiss was a bit more animated, with her taking an active part. Lips and tongues came into play and she hummed into my mouth when I moved my hands to her ass and held her up by those cute round hemispheres.

We finally came up for air and she tilted her head back and asked in a very hushed voice, "What are we doing, Ed?"

I replied that I thought we were preparing to make very romantic love to one another. I told her that was an idea I'd had in my head for the last half-hour or so. I also told her that I first had that idea when she was a teen-ager. She gasped a bit at that and laughed, "You really are a dirty old man, aren't you?" And she kissed me lightly and squirmed for me to set her down.

I did, and she moved to the other side of the room where I had my old-fashioned weight bench set up diagonally to the corner. (Nothing fancy; just an old padded bench with two struts at one end extending upward about 30 inches from the bench to a pair of brackets that would hold the bar of any weight I chose to use for my fitness – not strength training – workouts.) She turned to face me and asked what time my wife would be home. I told her not for a long while, and she could relax and not worry about our being interrupted with whatever she had in mind.

It took only a half a minute for her to unwrap the denim skirt and flick it toward my feet where it landed in a tiny blue heap. I looked from the pile of denim to where she stood and noted that she was twisting the hem of the white t-shirt in her fingers – perhaps trying to decide what to do next – which gave me a very nice view of the front of her panties. Small, pink and delicate. Conservative, as I had supposed, but appearing at least one size too small for her. She saw me looking at her crotch and placed one hand lightly in front of her to shield her bulging nest from my view, I suppose. I smiled a small smile and as if she could read my thoughts, she said, "They're not mine; they're Lauren's. I was doing laundry earlier today and wanted the panties I had on for tomorrow. I didn't have any clean ones in the laundry room, so I took a pair of Lauren's. I guess they're a little small, aren't they?" (Lauren is her 12-year-old daughter)

I smiled a Groucho Marx smile and told her that they were "poifect" on her and that they brought out her "…most adorable feature…" She giggled – honestly giggled – and moved her hand to the hem of her shirt. I could tell she was about to lift it over her head when I stopped her by moving directly in front of her and taking her two hands in both of mine. I lifted her hands high above her head and ran my fingers down along her arms into her armpits and then to her sides, sliding them to the side swells of her tiny breasts. She shuddered just a little, but didn't move her hands. She looked directly at me – no eyes closed, etc. – just looked at me to see where I was going with this.

In this position, her tiny little nubs were stretched upward and very taut. I could see the nipples poking hard against the bra underneath and trying to escape their confinement. I moved my hands to the undersides of her breasts and tried to cup them, but there was not enough flesh there to fill my hands. I opened my palms and lightly touched them to the tips of her nipples through shirt and bra material and moved them around in large circles, just causing enough friction that her nipples knew my hands were there – and they puffed up and dug into my palms within just a few seconds. For some unknown reason, this young woman was quite "horny" as the vernacular would express it.

After a short minute of palm circles, I bent and kissed her lightly and moved my hands to the hem of her shirt and lifted it clear of her body and over her head. I left it tangled around her wrists so that she could not take it off, nor could she pull it back down. Her arms were still stretched upward, her breasts pulling up and her bra gaping at the sides of the cups. I bent down in front of her and slid my fingers beneath the lower edges of her cups and lifted them up and off her breasts and slid this garment, too, up along her arms, wrapping it around her wrists with the t-shirt material.

I looked. I inspected. I marveled at the tiniest pair of breasts I had seen on an adult woman in my entire life. Tiny, twin pointed cones of flesh. Topped with dark, dark brown aureoles that seemed to take up more than two thirds of the breast altogether. Compared to the size of her breasts, her aureoles were huge. They were not huge for a woman of 34 or 36C proportions, but for a woman who most likely sported a pair of 34A breasts, these brown circles were immense. Her nipples were as dark as the fleshy, lumpy circles that surrounded them. What was even more unusual was the length of those nipples. Exceptionally large. Large, even, for a woman with much larger breasts. I laid my pinky finger beside one of them as it swelled and distended. The nipple reached from the tip of my little finger to the first joint – puffy, swollen, hard as a pencil eraser and indented slightly on the very tip. 


Nancy the Girl Next Door Ch. 1



Using my thumbs and forefingers, I took hold of the two nubbins and rolled them back and forth. With a breathy exhalation of, "Oh, shit!" Nancy sat down heavily on the end of the weight bench behind her with about three or four inches of the end of the bench (about twelve inches wide) protruding from under her ass between her legs. As I knelt down to follow her movement, her arms came down behind me and I could feel the material of her t-shirt and bra on the back of my neck.

It was almost as if I knew what was coming next. She abruptly pulled my face to her chest and I opened my mouth and swallowed one of those tiny cones nearly to the swell of her chest. I immediately began to suck on the aureole, which was surrounded by my mouth, and to flick at the nipple with the tip of my tongue. Lash, lash, lash, lash; my tongue worked at the stiffly swollen nub in my mouth. I pressed down hard with my lips and her breast bulged into my mouth with the aureole almost touching the roof. My other hand tugged, twisted, rolled and pulled at her other nipple and I could feel her breath rushing in and out of her chest under the demands of my mouth and fingers.

"Oh, Jesus!" came out more than once as I worked on her deliciously tiny tits. From one to the other, never giving either a rest of more than a minute, I worked my lips and teeth and tongue. Her entire chest and neck were flushed red and I felt her spread her legs under her to more easily accommodate her position on the bench. I was ready for my next onslaught, but was she? We would both find out momentarily.

I reached down and put my hands behind her knees, still sucking alternately on her two breasts. I began to slowly lift her knees until it was almost impossible for her to remain upright. She could not retain her balance without pulling my face even tighter against her chest, forcing her nipples deeper into my mouth where they were lovingly punished by my teeth and lips and tongue. She gave up and allowed my hands to slowly lower her back to the bench stretched behind her. Her hands came from behind my head, still wrapped in the t-shirt and bra, and her head ended up just under the bar of the weights on the raised brackets. She was panting and I could smell the beginnings of true sexual excitement in the air directly in front of me.

Her legs were now being held up, perpendicular to the end of the bench, by my hands at the backs of her knees. Her calves and feet hung down and nearly touched my shoulders. I moved to spread them a bit and she resisted. I whispered to her, "You've come this far, Nancy, don't give up now. I promise I shall not hurt you, and nothing will happen that you don't want to happen." That appeared to calm her misgivings as she immediately relaxed and my hands opened her knees and thighs to a point even with my shoulders. I looked directly in front of me and slightly down and there was the treasure of the centuries. 

Her pink, satiny panties were wet. The crotch panel was literally soaked through in the center. And I could swear I saw her pussy lips pulsating with the rapid thud of her heart, right through the panties. Before she could recoup her senses, I bent my head and kissed her directly at the top of her mound, on the edge of her pubic bone, and felt the soft mattress of hair beneath my lips and under the thin covering of her panties. Thank God she has not succumbed to the modern practice of shaving her pudenda. I happen to be an aficionado of full bushes and am terribly disappointed when a woman is bare to the skin where it counts most.

I kissed her again and felt her lurch upward with her hips, almost as if by accident, and another "Oh, Jesus!" was blurted out by her mouth. I lowered her legs to the point where her knees were over my shoulders and her calves and feet extended behind me and down my back. I kissed her again, just a tiny bit lower, and felt another lurch. I used my hands to move to the waistband of her panties and began to roll them down her hips. I lifted her hips with my hands – with very little effort, I might add; it was obvious I was being helped in this – and the panties moved down to the tops of her thighs. My mouth was still paying homage to her crotch panel and this forced the panties almost fully into my mouth. What I did was open my mouth and suck in the wettest portion of the crotch as I pulled the panties down her thighs in one motion. I stopped at her knees, sucking and tasting the woman in front of me.

"My God, what are you doing?" she almost whispered as she raised her head to look.

"I'm just enjoying an appetizer, dear thing. And may I say that you are delicious, indeed!"

"Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus! I never did this. Are you going to…you know…are you going to …"

"Eat your pussy?" I finished for her; "Of course I am, dear woman. I am going to devour every inch of that delectable morsel that I see in front of me." In point of fact, I couldn't really see her pussy because her panties were between her and me. "Really? Hasn't Mike, or anybody else, ever done this? What about in college? Nobody? I can't believe that!"

She let her head drop down onto the bench and panted, "No, never; nobody ever did it. One time Kristen and I…" and she stopped dead in her tracks, having just realized what she was going to say.

"Oh, one time you and Kristen tried it, but it wasn't really good, right?" I asked.

"No, no, I mean, I did it to Kristen once in high school; but she chickened out and wouldn't do it to me. I didn't talk to her for a month, remember? But I didn't do anything except kiss her on her pants. She was wet from playing with herself with one of the magazines and we thought we'd try what we saw in the pictures, but I guess we both chickened out. Do you think that was gross or disgusting or weird?"

I told her that it was the neatest thing I'd heard her say yet. I told her I often thought about putting my face between Kristen's thighs when I saw her in the summer in her bathing suits in the neighborhood. I also told her that if I had the choice of eating Kristen's pussy and eating hers, it would be hers without a doubt. She asked why and I told her because I knew Kristen shaved hers. I could see it when she used the backyard pool with our kids. It was also obvious, I mentioned, that she did not shave hers. And I liked that.

"Oh, I always thought guys liked shaved…down there…I was going to do it with Kristen once, but I chickened out because I was afraid she would cut me or I would cut myself, and how would I explain that to my mom."

I explained that there were some men who did like shaved pussies – and I exaggerated the word as if to show her it was ok to say it. But I was not one of them. I wanted to know that I was tasting a woman, not a girl, when I put my mouth on her. So, I thanked her with a series of kisses up and down her thighs and 'thank-you's' murmured into her warm, soft flesh.

It didn't take long for me to reach up and remove the panties completely, placing them in my shirt pocket. She looked at that in some alarm and asked what I did that for, and I told her that after today, she may never wish to do this again, and I would need some sort of reminder that it was not a dream. She sighed at that and laid her head back down as my trail of kisses reached her swollen pussy lips and began to lick and suck them with a tender vigor.

She worked on getting her hands loose from the confines of the shirt and bra and put them on the back of my head, pressing just a bit into her, and I told her, "Not yet. The time will come when you will need to do that, but for now, let me control things." She moved them up to the bar above her head and held onto it tightly as I slowly swiped my tongue, flat-sided, from the edge of her anus along the entire length of her clefted lips to the apex of her slit. Her hips rose off the bench and she let out a small shriek with an explosion of breath, and said, "What are you doing to me?"

I spoke directly into her pussy hair as I answered, "My dear little girl next door, I am going to make certain that neither you nor your pussy ever forget this afternoon. I am going to wake you and her up to things neither you nor she has ever felt. I am going to wake you and her to the thought that there is more to life and to love than being stuck full of a piece of meat and shoved around until it shrivels and leaves. I am going to show you and her that she has a life of her own. Relax and let me show you what real lovemaking can feel like. This afternoon, dear one, you are a virgin. Relax and let me be your very first.

While her next reaction was not one of total submissiveness, it was good enough to signal that I should continue. She sighed such a deep sigh, I thought she was expiring right there on the bench. Her entire body went slack and I could feel the pulse in the arteries in her thighs as they pressed against my cheeks. Now, I would make her mine.

I spent the next forty minutes or so choreographing a ballet pas de deux, danced by my tongue and her pussy lips and clitoris. They roamed, they jumped, they leaped into each other; they slowed and loved each other; he stroked, then lashed, then sucked her swollen stiffness; and she rewarded him with an explosion of arousal that he had not expected. The juices let down in the climax of the ballet were as deliciously soft and light as any he had ever tasted in his entire life. He searched deep inside the source of that liquid for more…more…more; and devoured it with slurps and licks and satisfied sighs and groans.

Nancy's body shook as if with a fever several times during the "ballet" and I realized she had become orgasmic while I was paying attention to the blonde buffet table in front of my mouth. How many times had she reached her peak? I had not counted, but it certainly had been three, at least. I slowed my motions and began to lift my head when she clamped both hands to the back of my skull and slammed my mouth deep into her heated chasm. "Oh, Christ, Ed, one more; one more; please; please, I need one more; I'm gonna explode; do it; do it again!" came out of her mouth in gasping phrases. And I obliged her. I renewed my oral attacks on that swollen set of lips that lay in front of me; and I sucked and nibbled and chewed on the rubbery inner pair, now slick and wet from our combined secretions. I used my lips and teeth to pull those lips outside of their protective warmth and moved my head around, stretching them to their limits and forcing Nancy to groan and arch her body into my face to escape the pressure. Allowing them to snap back into their places, I plunged my tongue deep into the slick crevasse between them and lapped at each and every surface attainable, all the while rolling and tugging her engorged clit with one set of thumb and forefinger. And she climbed the canyon wall one more time to release her grip on reality and fall back down, deep down, into the abyss of erotic fulfillment. She came.

Her juices on my face and in my beard were light, sweet, delicate – unexpected, really – and I cleaned every drop, every trickle, every rivulet I could find on every surface of her pussy, stomach and thighs. 

And then I stood and leaned over her to kiss her mouth again, allowing my tongue to show her exactly how she tasted. I was rewarded with a soft, murmuring, "hmmmmmm" into my mouth as I did. When I finally released her, I softly whispered, "See, I told you that you'd need to do that sooner or later. Did you like it?"

With that small remark, she began to sob. She cried and put her hands over her face to hide the tears as her small breasts shook with her sobbing. I bent and kissed each of them, sucking them into my mouth and nibbling on her swollen nipples. When I lifted my head, she was looking at me. I asked what she was thinking, and she replied that she had never felt that way before.

I asked about orgasms, and she admitted she had only ever had one while masturbating (and that this practice was terribly guilt-producing for her) but had never reached orgasm with her husband. Not that he wasn't tender and loving; but just that it was over so soon, she could not ever reach any plateau that would get her there.

I sat down on the floor beside the bench and we talked for a few minutes, to allow her to regain some composure. She finally sat up on the edge of the bench and swiveled to face me. I was greeted by a thatch of beautiful blonde hair on her pussy, wet with her previous excitement and my licking, and emanating a most remarkable scent that I could not get enough of. I began to slide my face back between her legs for another course at the buffet, but she pushed me away and said that she was so sensitive right now; she didn't think she could take any more. I spread her thighs as wide as I could and kneeled on the floor between them, pressing my stomach against her slickly-wet pussy and pulling her against me for a kiss. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around my waist as we kissed and I stood up with her fastened to my body.

By this time, even a man of my age would be aroused; and I most certainly was. I began to lower her, an inch at a time, without breaking our lip lock. My hands were now under her ass cheeks, cupping her. When I had lowered her some three or four inches, the head of my cock came into contact with the center of her valley through my trousers and she shrieked, "No, Ed! I can't let you do that! We have to stop! Put me down, please!"

And I did. I immediately slid her down along my body, rapidly. My cock found the path of least resistance and slid along the length of her slit and through her hair and wound up trapped between our two bodies as I pulled her against me tightly. "God, it feels beautiful, Ed; but I think we have done enough for the day, don't you?" she asked.

"No, love; I do not. More than anything, I want to feel the head of my cock slide into that velvety playground where my mouth has just found a home. Would you deny an old man that pleasure?"

She giggled again and broke our embrace to walk across the room and gather up her clothing, piece by piece. She was searching for something and I reached into my pocket and lifted her panties (Lauren's, really) out and sniffed at them, then tasted them.

"Oh, God; I always thought that would be so gross! But just seeing you do that to my pants makes me wet all over again. I have to get the hell out of here before I do something I will certainly regret." And she turned toward the door to leave.

I reached out with one hand and turned her to face me. In one smooth movement, I slipped my left hand around her waist and my right hand into her crotch where I allowed the thumb to inspect the folds of her pussy opening. She stiffened, but I was already in orbit, and my thumb sunk itself deep into the steaming circle of flesh that was the girl next door. I pushed my mouth against hers and kissed her while my thumb worked on her inner walls, finding that spot on the front wall where that tiny pad of rough skin held the thousand nerve-endings that would trip the switch on her control. I located it, massaged it, and felt her fall apart in my arms. Her blood pressure was probably sky-high at this point and her breath was ragged in her throat. I lifted her against me with my other arm and kissed her deeply as I massaged her into submission.

Her body overcame her mind and she nearly cried as she again reached that little death of orgasm when your body is totally past the point of holding back, and she erupted against my hand, wetting it with another discharge from deep, deep within her.

She slumped against me as I lowered her to the floor and removed my thumb from her pussy. I gave her the thumb to suck on. She licked it tentatively at first, then opened her mouth and allowed me to insert it and rub it on lips and tongue. "Now, dear; that is what you taste like when you are excited. You liked my thumb there, didn't you? It was your first real orgasm. Now, wouldn't you like something a bit longer and thicker stuffed inside there? Wouldn't you like to look into my eyes while I was sliding my thickness inside you? Wouldn't you like to feel so full that you know you are going to burst? Let me love you, dear thing; let me love you," I whispered to her.

"How? Where will we do it? I don't want to use your bedroom. It wouldn't be right."

I lifted her again and moved to the bench. I turned toward her and removed my shirt and my Topsiders. I used her hands to unbuckle my belt and urged her to unbutton and unzip my pants. She never took her eyes off what she was doing and I kissed the top of her head and urged her on with small murmurs of love. She opened the pants and the fly and took them by the waist and tugged on them until they fell to my feet. I pushed her away and she stepped back. I flipped my pants aside and kicked my shoes out of the way. She was still staring at my crotch. My cock, though not humongous by any stretch of the imagination, was tenting my Jockeys and I slid them down and off in a matter of seconds.

"There, love; take a good look. He is ready for you. I know you are ready for him. What do you think? Will you like it when he is sunk deep inside your wet little hole? I think you will."

"Oh, Jesus!" again slipped out of her mouth. "Mike is not as fat as you….I mean your..your..thing; not that you're fat," she stammered.

I laughed out loud. I told her I knew what she meant and asked about Mike. She said he was just about as long, maybe a half-inch shorter, but my…thing…was at least twice as thick as his. She looked up at me and I actually saw fear in her eyes. "Will it hurt?"

I took both her hands in mine and whispered to her, "My little girl next door, if it hurts, it will be the most delicious pain you have ever felt. Come here." And I sat down on the bench and pulled her toward me. I moved her legs so that they were spread apart and helped her to bend her knees and begin to sit down on my lap, facing me. As she sunk slowly downward, I used one hand to bring my cock up to the direct angle where it would meet with the center of her pussy in another three or four inches.

As she slowly descended, she looked down at the point of juncture and her breath started to come faster. "Relax, love; relax; it will feel so much better if you do," I told her.

She stopped when the head presented itself against her hot lips. I used one hand, wrapped around my shaft, to move the head in circles. I circled around and around, stretching and pulling at her lips and making the surface slick with both her juices and my pre-cum leakings. I found her clit, still engorged and swollen, and flicked it a half-dozen times with the tip of my cock and circled her hidey-hood as well. When I felt the temperature of her pussy lips increase, I knew it was close to the time I would claim her. I held the head directly against her opening and lodged it there. I removed my hand from my cock shaft and used both hands on her breasts, caressing, tweaking, rolling the nipples and finally pinching them rather hard as I humped upward, slipping the fat head between her lips. I could feel her initial resistance disappear and her pussy muscles relax to allow the head to slip inside in one fluid motion.

"See, my little girl next door; this is going to be easier than you thought. I'm already in."

Her eyes flew wide, because I truly believe she did not realize I was inside her. "Oh, no, you're…"

"Fucking you," I finished for her, and used an upward motion of my hips and a downward pull of my hands on her breasts to sink the remaining inches inside her. Tight? Absolutely! Heated? Of course! But something else. I could feel the walls of her pussy chamber sliding along the head and the shaft of my meat. I had never felt anything so lovely. I was in a wet velvet grip and did not ever want to be let go.

I let up on my own pressure and she sank down of her own accord until her pussy hair was enmeshed with mine and she was flat against me with not one fraction of my cock shaft still showing. She started to speak and I swear it came out as a purr. "I did it! Jesus Christ, I did it! We're fucking, aren't we Ed? I'm now committing adultery. And I'm loving every minute of it. Are you going to fuck me, Ed? Are you going to come inside me? I could get pregnant, you know. I'm not sure if I should take the chance."




Nancy the Girl Next Door Ch. 1



"I have a condom around here somewhere, if you'd like me to use it." I told her.

"No, Ed, that is more wrong than fucking you. I can't believe I am saying that word; but that is exactly what we are doing, isn't it? Fucking."

"Yes, dear, we are fucking. But I want to hear you say something else. What is it that I have inside of you? What do you call it?"

"Oh, c'mon, Ed; don't make me say it. I said 'fucking' and that ought to be enough."

I thrust my hips upward, hitting the back wall of her pussy and she grunted as if someone had hit her in the stomach with their fist. "Did you like that feeling, dear?" I asked.

"Oh, God, Ed; do it again."

"Not until you tell me what it is that is making you feel so good. Say it."

"It's your thing. Your penis inside me."

"BUZZZZZ….wrong answer!" and I started to lift her off me.

"No, no, don't! It's your cock! Your cock is in me. There, is that better? I said cock."

"Ahhh, yes, my love; my cock is inside you. And it's making you feel good, too, isn't it?" And I moved my hips around in a circle three or four times, watching her hips slide around in that circle, causing friction on her clit and her pussy lips while the head inside her bounced from wall to wall and rubbed each of them. Her entire body went stiff and I thought she was going to cum right then. I stopped my movement and as she calmed down I asked her, "Where is my cock, Nancy girl? What is it inside of? Tell me."

"My pussy; your cock is in my pussy. See, I knew that word. I always thought it was funny that people called it a pussy. I wonder why."

"Because when you stroke her just right, dear thing, she starts to purr." I told her with another half-dozen hip rotations and thrusts deep into her. My one hand also found her clit, trapped between us, and flicked and tweaked at her, too.

Fifteen minutes of this and she was at the threshold. Should I push her over or let her down? I was getting quite close myself and I knew I was leaking quantities of my own juice into her cavity, so I asked, "Well, dear, what about me? Would you like me to wear the condom? Would you like me to pull out at the last minute? If I do, where will I put my deposit? How will you accept my offering?"

"No condom. Yes, pull out when you know you are going to … to …"

"Cum," I finished for her. I agreed to pull out and not cum inside her, but only on one condition.

"What's that?" she asked.

I told her that I wanted to cum on her breasts. I wanted her to step off me when I was ready and kneel down between my knees and catch my present on her breasts. I told her I loved looking at her breasts and they would be absolutely lovely when I coated them with my own love offering. 

She started to protest about the size of her breasts when I began to thrust upward into her in a heavy, dedicated rhythm. As I did so, her head lolled back and her hands went to my shoulders, allowing her breasts to approach within inches of my face. I leaned forward a fraction and sucked one into my mouth where I licked and bit at it as I continued to fuck her, now almost brutally. No soft loving here. Now, there was raw passionate sex. I fucked her pussy hard and deliberately. And she came; and again; and again, as I bit her nipples and slammed her body down onto my cock.

I knew I was within seconds of my own release and told her it was time. She slowly lifted herself off my cock and watched with bent head as the shaft appeared from out of her sweaty pussy lips, all covered in slime – hers and mine – and listened as the plum-sized head exited with a decided 'plop' sound and with some suction as well.

I pushed her backward and she knelt between my legs. I took hold of my cock and pointed it down toward her chest. I rubbed the tip on each of her nipples, wetting them, and began to stroke it. She unconsciously lifted a hand to help and I asked her, "Would you like to do it, dear? Would you like to bring me off with your hand?"

She didn't answer, but took my cock in her right hand and then her left hand, too, and began to stroke slowly up and down, stretching the shaft skin to its limit on each stroke. I told her that it would not be long and she knelt up straighter, putting her breasts directly in line with my cock.

A half-dozen strokes later, I grunted and a thick, ropey string of ejaculate exploded from the end of my cock and splattered directly on her left nipple and aureole, completely obscuring them in a milky white cloud. Two more spurts followed, and as the angle of my cock had changed with her stroking, they landed at two different spots on her breasts and in the narrow valley between. But then something unexpected – though not unwanted on my part – occurred. Her hands were quite slippery by this time with the accumulation of my jism and they slipped off my cock shaft, allowing the head to pop upward on the final two spurts. They landed on her lips and as she opened her mouth to complain, the second one slipped into her mouth and onto her tongue.

She immediately sat back on her haunches and began to make a terrible face. I grabbed her face in my hands and bent closely to say, "Lick your lips and swallow, dear girl; I've given you the best of me; now keep it."

She was not going to comply, I could tell; but I leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth, transferring some of my cum to her tongue with mine. I pulled back and whispered, "Now swallow, little girl." And she did.

I saw something behind her eyes as if she was just coming to the realization that she had become a slut this afternoon. Before today, she had not even been truly fucked well, and here she was, swallowing the cum of her older next-door neighbor. 

I swirled one finger around in the cum on her breasts and offered it to her mouth. She never took her eyes off mine, but opened her mouth and sucked the finger clean. I repeated this movement four times until her right breast and chest area were cleared of my liquid.

Then, I used the head of my softening but thick cock to swirl around the nipple and aureole of her left breast, coating it with a slick dressing of my juice. I held her under the chin with one hand and offered the cockhead to her mouth with the other.

Resistance. I laid the head on her lips and said, "Kiss me, little girl." And she pursed her lips and did exactly that. I moved the head back and forth, coating her lips, and withdrew a half-inch. She flicked out the tip of her tongue, tasting, and then licked them clean. I again offered the head and she willingly opened her mouth and allowed me to slide the head between her lips and teeth until two or three inches were warmly inside her, resting on her tongue. She closed her lips and I instructed her, "Lick around it, dear; clean it completely; then suck it like it was your favorite lollipop when you were a little girl. Suck me, dear thing. Like I sucked you."

It didn't take more than a full minute for her to begin a beautifully innocent session of cocksucking. And I smiled down at her. I told her she was beautiful with a cock in her mouth and asked her how it felt.

She let go for an instant and said, "Like warm silk and velvet together. And the taste is not as bad as I thought it would be. I always saw pictures of this when I was a kid, but never thought I would ever do it. Now, it just seems like the right thing to do. I like it." And she plunged her mouth down on my cock as far as she could go comfortably.

As I continued to soften, she added that Mike never stays hard long after they make love. She says sometimes he can't even get hard. I told her that if she really wants to make love some night, and Mike can't, she should try this. I guaranteed that he'd be hard in a minute. She laughed and kissed the end of my cock before standing up.

"I really ought to go, Ed; if I don't, I am going to want to do it again. I just want you to know that I have never done this, ever, with any man. I never fucked another man except Mike. I never let any other man except Mike touch me anywhere. And I NEVER sucked a cock before, not even Mike's. I'm not a slut, am I, Ed?" she asked.

"If you are, Nancy, you're MY little slut and no one else's. Remember that."

She laughed and began to dress. I slipped my pants and shirt on. I kept her panties and we went downstairs to the living room. I offered her a drink and she said iced tea would be great. When I came back in the room, she had her hand inside her wrap skirt and was touching herself. 

"Can't get enough?" I surprised her.

"Oh, shit, Ed; I'm sorry, but my pussy – see I can say it – is like itching, on fire kind of."

I told her that it was definite that she wanted more fucking or something and asked if she ever felt this way before.

She told me that when she was a teen-ager, and used to make out with the boys after dances, etc., she sometimes felt this way. That's when she learned about masturbation with Kristen across the street. It helped, she said, but it wasn't like having a cock inside her.

I sat across from her and told her that I was going to reveal a secret. She said she liked secrets. I went into some detail about how I used to think about her when she was a teen-ager at Central Catholic High School. I told her that when she would come home from school, I was always upstairs watching her get out of the van that her friend drove so I could see her thighs when she stepped out. I told her that sometimes, when I was downstairs I got a flash of her panties and had to go masturbate to relieve the pressure. I told her that I used to climb up on top of the garage behind Kristen's house at night when I knew they were together. She never knew, I told her, that I could see into Kristen's room and could look into the mirror on the wall and see most of what they were doing. I told her I knew they were looking at porn magazines because I watched them when they touched themselves. I told her that sometimes I masturbated right there on the top of the garage while looking at them.

She laughed out loud in the middle of my story and told me she and Kristen always thought I was a dirty old man, and that's why Kristen wore such skimpy bathing suits when she came over to swim. She was teasing you, Ed, she told me. She said they often wondered what my cock was like, but figured I was too old to "do it" anymore. She said that she knows better now and maybe she would call Kristen, who lives in San Francisco now, and tell her exactly what we'd been doing. I told her that I thought that was a very good idea and maybe Kristen would fly in on the next plane to join us.

We both laughed at that. She asked why I was attracted to her, because she knew she was skinny and homely when she was a kid. Assuming my most lecherous "dirty old man" leer, I told her it was the Catholic School uniform. I told her that porn film producers make millions off of models who fuck in their videos while wearing those little green, white and gold plaid jumpers or skirts and white blouses; and the white knee socks and the Mary Jane patent leather shoes were an erotic turn-on.

She said she didn't believe me, so I pulled out a video from the collection I have hidden at the back of the shelf alongside the fireplace and popped it into the VCR. I fast-forwarded to the general vicinity of the scene I wanted and hit 'play'…..

Nancy's eyes damn near popped out of her head when she saw the girl in the video. She didn't appear to be much more than 15 or 16 – but we knew she was over 18 – and she was sitting on some guy's cock, who was lying on the floor; her little uniform skirt was spread out around his thighs and her legs were bent under her so she was kneeling on her knee socks, black patent-leather shoes still on her feet. She was facing away from him, towards his feet. Another guy had his cock in her mouth and was absolutely fucking her throat. Her white shirt-blouse was opened down the front and she was holding up two lovely little breasts that had been pulled out of her bra. She was pinching the nipples and moaning and groaning around the cock in her mouth.

I clicked "stop" and Nancy nearly exploded with, "Jesus Christ! That looked like my daughter there! It could be any of the girls in my school when I was that age; or it could be any of the girls there now. Do men really get excited over stuff like this?"

I pointed to my crotch, where my cock was pushing hard against the fabric of my trousers and asked her, "What do you think?"

She jumped up from the couch, ran to the front door and hollered back over her shoulder, "Don't go away. Stay right where you are! I'll be right back."



Nancy the Girl Next Door Ch. 2



"I'll be right back!" were her last words as she flew out the front door and slipped across the banister that separated our front porches.

I wondered what in the hell had just happened. I'd managed to talk my young next-door neighbor into an afternoon's session of pussy-eating and fucking, and I'd even slid my cock into her mouth for a first-time blowjob; I'd shown her about three or four minutes of a porn video in which a young girl in a Catholic School uniform was being fucked by one guy in her pussy and by another in her mouth; I'd told Nancy that this was a big turn-on for a lot of men and had punctuated my remarks by growing a hard-on in my pants while we looked. And then, before I could say anything else, she had flown out the front door and disappeared. What the hell was going on? Had I gone a bit too far? Would my wife really hear about this?

Giving up on figuring it out, I walked to the kitchen to put Nancy's iced tea glass in the dishwasher and to pour myself a cold beer. I had finished almost the full glass when there was a timid little knock on the back door. I was a bit startled, but put down the beer and walked to the door to look out the pane of glass that made up the entire top half of the door. 

For Christ's sake!!! Nancy was standing on the back porch! Her blonde hair was pulled to each side in short ponytails (a la Britney Spears). There were little white ribbons on each ponytail. She was wearing a simple, white cotton blouse that buttoned up the front. And covering it all was one of her daughter's green/white/gold jumpers. All the girls at the local Catholic school wore this outfit. I moved closer to the door and looked down. Sure enough, white knee socks and black patent leather MaryJanes were on her feet! She was twisting and twirling the hem of the short, pleated skirt and wrapping one toe around the back of her other foot, knee bent and wiggling. God, what an actress! For just a minute, I actually saw her daughter there and not Nancy.

Deciding to play along with her game, I opened the door and asked, "Yes? What can I do for you, little girl?"

She got the idea right away and replied, "Well, Mr. _______, I am locked out of my house because my mom had to go to a meeting and my dad is still at work and I lost my key and I don't know what to do," all in a rush of breath while still twisting and fidgeting.

"Well, come on in, Nancy dear; I think I have some milk and cookies around here somewhere. We can share them and we can talk. Would that be ok?"

"Gee, my mom and dad told me never to go into a strange man's car or house or anything. Are you a stranger?"

"No, dear, I'm not a stranger. I'm one of those older guys you can trust when you have a problem. C'mon in and we can see about those cookies and milk."

She walked into the kitchen very hesitantly and looked around before she said, "I really don't want any cookies and milk, Mr. _____; I'd really rather have you help me with my homework. Would you do that for me?"

"Of course I would, Nancy. What subject do you have to study tonight?"

"Anatomy. It's a hard course because there are all sorts of pictures to look at and remember names for parts of the body and things like that and I always get confused because I'm not allowed to stay after school for the special sessions where the other girls get to look at a model of a man and a woman to see what things really look like instead of looking at pictures."

"Well, I'll try to help, Nancy; but I'm not sure I can be of any real assistance. I don't have any models like those here at my house."

"Oh, that's OK, Mr. _____, I have an idea how we can study. Can I have a coke now? I saw them sitting on your back porch the other day and I know you have some. You get them in bottles, right? My mom says that's because you are old-fashioned and remember when all sodas came in bottles instead of cans."

I smiled at her brashness, in the game or out, and agreed that I did have some cokes in bottles and I would get her one right away. I told her to go into the family room downstairs in the basement and I'd bring one down to her. If she was going to play this game, I was going to let her take the lead and not push her at all. I wondered if she'd ever done any role-play like this before.

She disappeared down the steps and I followed a few minutes later with her coke and another beer for me. She was sitting on the edge of the pool table, swinging her legs back and forth. Her ankles were crossed and her knees were tight together, but the skirt had ridden up quite a bit when she hopped up onto the table and I could get a good look at a rather pretty expanse of thighs.

I walked over to her and handed her the coke and let my hand drop to her bare thigh after she took it and lifted it for a swallow. "Ooooh, Mr. ____ your hand is cold!"

"I'm sorry, Nancy, I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just that you are such a very pretty girl I forgot where my hand was."

"Oh, that's OK, Mr. ____, it felt good, just cold. You don't have to take it away."

I replaced my hand and stood there in front of her. I looked at her eyes and they twinkled back at me, daring me to go on with the game. I was ready if she was ready.

"Well, Nancy, perhaps we ought to think about that homework. I know your mom will be home soon and she might not like finding you over here with me alone."

"Oh, I think it will be OK. I often heard mom say that she'd like to get you alone some time, so I guess it will be OK if I'm alone with you."

I almost laughed at this comment and went on with the game.

"Now, what's the first thing you want to know about, Nancy?"

"Well, it's a little strange, but I want to know about the parts of a man's body. What they are called and stuff, you know? I can show you the pictures in the book, but somehow that's not good enough. Will you take off your clothes for me to look for real?" and she almost blushed at the thought.

"Nancy, if that is the way you need to study, then that's the way it will be. What should I take off first?" I was only wearing khakis and a polo shirt and knew she had to pick one or the other.

"Well, I've seen lots of boys and men with their shirts off, and I know what everything looks like there, so take off your pants. Will you do that?"

"Of course I will, Nancy," I replied, looking her straight in the eye. And I unbuckled the belt, unzipped the fly and let them fall around my feet, flipping them away with one foot. I stood there, semi-erect, in my jockeys. The front of my briefs was full, but not overflowing, as I was not totally hard. "Is this ok?" I asked.

"Sure, that's ok; but I don't need to see your underwear. I see my dad's all the time. I want to see what's inside."

I hooked my fingers in the waistband, pulled and bent to remove them completely and stood up, thickening more every minute or so.

She looked right at it and sucked in her breath. I stood there and didn't move a muscle. She hopped down off the table and stood right in front of me. "Gee, Mr. _____, I saw pictures of this in the Health books, but it didn't look quite like this. It was just sort of hanging there. Yours is thicker and almost standing up. Why is that, Mr. ___?"

"Well, dear, when a man is around a beautiful woman, he often gets very thick and very stiff right here." And I put my right hand under my cock and lifted it toward her. The head – thick and purple – looked directly up at her. "See, it's actually getting bigger and harder as we talk about it."

She was breathing a bit heavier now and tore her eyes away from mine to ask me, "Do you really think I'm beautiful, Mr. _____? My mom says I'm skinny and my dad calls me 'bag of bones' and I sometimes want to cry because I'm not pretty like Kristen across the street."

I reached out with my left hand and touched her cheek, murmuring, "Oh, Nancy, Nancy, little girl; you are the prettiest, sweetest thing on this whole block – maybe in your whole school. Kristen is pretty, but she is not beautiful. She is too big here…" and I touched my left hand to her right breast and pushed in just a bit to show that I knew there were swellings there.

"Oh, Mr. ____, you touched my boobies!" she gasped, but did not move away.

"Yes, I know I did, Nancy. I wanted to show you that I know you are already a woman there and they are very beautiful to me." And I gave her tiny breast a squeeze with my hand, finding the nipple – already swollen and tight – and pinched it lightly.

"Oh, Mr. _____, you make me feel funny when you touch me like that. I don't know if we should study like this any more."

"Nancy, I think we have a lot more to study before the day is over; and I want you to stop calling me Mr. _____; my name is Ed. I want you to use that. You can call me Mr. ___ when your parents are around, but when it is just us two, you will call me Ed. OK?"

She giggled like the little schoolgirl she was pretending to be and said, "OK, Ed," and giggled again.

"Now, I want you to touch me here," I said, indicating with my cock. "I want you to hold me while I teach you the names for this part."

"Oh, I know," she beamed, "that's a penis." And she wrapped her small hand around its thickening shaft and held on lightly.

"Well, only the books call it a penis, Nancy. When your teacher asks for an answer on the test, you can use 'penis' but when you talk about it with your girlfriends, you should call it something else."

"What should I call it?"

"A cock. A dick. A prick. A shaft. A rod. A fuck stick."

"A fuck stick?" and she laughed out loud. "What's a fuck stick mean?"

"Well, that is a lesson for another day. I don't think we are going to get that far today."

"Oh, yes we are!" she almost roared at me, and gave my cock a small squeeze and slid her hand up and down once or twice along the shaft.

"Well, then, I suppose I ought to explain. You see, when a man and a woman really like each other a lot, the man's cock gets real long and real hard – like mine is right now, see? And the woman's pussy gets very soft and wet."

"Pussy? The woman's pussy? What's that?" she queried with a new twinkle in her eye.

"Well, if you want to take off some of your clothes, I can show you better than I can tell you. This is a homework lesson, you know."

"Will you help me? I don't know what to take off first."

"Of course, dear. Turn around and let me help."

She turned her back to me, reluctantly releasing my cock from her hand and allowing it to spring upward into the age-old angle of readiness, and stood there looking at the pool table. I quickly, but gently pulled the zipper of her jumper down to her waist and pulled it down over her shoulders to let it drop in a pile around her ankles. Her white blouse – more like a man's shirt than a woman's blouse – hid her hips and her ass from my view. She caught her breath, but I just said, "That's just to let me get closer to the parts I want to teach you about, Nancy. Hold still, now, and don't be afraid." 

"Oh, I'm not afraid, Mr. … ah, Ed; I was just surprised by the cold air on my legs in the back."

I told her to turn around and face me and she did by stepping out of the jumper and pushing it away from her feet. I reached down and unbuttoned the buttons of her white shirt-blouse, one by one, from the bottom to the top. One, two, three, four, five, six buttons – the collar button was not fastened. I let the blouse hang loose there, a small strip of skin showing between the two halves, but not showing anything yet.

"Now, Nancy, I'm going to turn you around again and drop your blouse to the floor with your jumper. Is that OK?"

She turned around by herself and helped me shrug her shoulders and arms out of the blouse and I heard it rustle against her as it fell to the floor in a heap. Now I could see that she was wearing that little white bra with an extremely tiny strap in the back – I understand that the larger the bra size, the wider the strap; and since hers was probably only a 32 or 34 A, the strap was very narrow – and another pair of panties. This time, the panties were a very pretty pale yellow, of a satiny material, and actually fit her well – tight, but not too tight. I realized that when she had gone home, she had put on all Lauren's school clothes except for the bra and the panties – those were her own.

I bent and kissed her shoulder in that tiny spot where her neck and shoulder come together and she jumped like a spark had hit her skin. "I'm sorry, dear, I just wanted to show you that I think you are very beautiful. When a man thinks a woman is beautiful, he usually tells her that by kissing her. You're not disturbed, are you, dear?" "Oh, no, it felt good. It just surprised me, Ed. Do you really think I am beautiful?"

"I'll tell you just how beautiful in one minute, dear girl," I whispered, and unclasped the hooks in the bra strap, but held onto the ends of the strap itself. "I'm going to take this off now, dear; just let me push it where I want it, OK?"

"OK," she breathed heavily.

I held the ends of the straps and moved my hands around her body, under her arms and across the tiny swells of her buds. I pulled a bit more and she lifted her arms to the front a bit and allowed me to tug the bra off her arms and away from her. I let it drop to the floor in front of her and in bringing my hands back, I held onto each small, brown-tipped breast with a palm. I pushed them back into her chest, pulled them out with my fingers, and caressed them with my palms, moving in circles, all the while kissing her on the neck and shoulders.

"See, I know you are beautiful even before I look at you. And I am kissing you to tell you that."

She was now breathing quite heavily and her chest was expanding and contracting under my hands. I removed my hands and she let out a small mewing sound at their departure. I managed to pinch her nipples once before removing my hands completely and she nearly jumped off the floor. I couldn't help but giggle, myself, into her hair.

I traced my fingers up and down her back, covering the area from shoulders to waist, and then caressed the silky feeling of her ass cheeks in their yellow covering. And I asked her to turn around and face me. She turned, and put her hands on her breasts to hide them from me. I tsk-tsk-ed her and she blushed and put her hands down, exposing those beautiful little white doves with their huge brown tips that I had so recently sucked and nibbled upon. They were even more beautiful now that she was playing a role with me.

"Now, dear, let's discuss what we have here," I whispered. "What are these?" I asked as I touched her tiny swellings with both hands.

"My boobies," she whispered back.

"No, love; not your boobies. When you were 9 or 10 they were 'boobies'; now they are breasts or tits or jugs or melons or face pillows, not boobies. Remember that. Now, say it: 'these are my tits, Ed'"

She looked up at me and whispered, "These are my tits, Ed."

"And I want you to suck them, Ed," go ahead; say it.

"And I want you to suck them, Ed." And she actually shivered when she said it.

"Oh, thank you for the invitation, dear girl," I laughed, and bent to capture one nipple and then the other in my mouth and suck and nibble and lave them with my tongue. She jumped again because I don't think she expected that right away.

I stood back and looked at both nipples and aureoles – swollen twice their original size; dark brown in color; hugely pointed and thick; crinkled and swollen and just begging for more attention.

"Do you like the new name for your breasts, dear girl?"

"Oh, yes; I love my tits, Ed. I loved it when you sucked them. I got all funny inside and I think…I think…I think I wet my panties." And she blushed again.

"No, dear, you didn't wet your panties. Remember when we were talking about how a man reacts when he is with a beautiful woman?"

"Yes, you said he gets thick and hard. You're thick and hard now, Ed."

"Right, I am; and I also said a woman's pussy gets very wet when she is with a man, remember?"

"Yes. Oh, yes; I remember. And is that part between my legs my pussy? Is that what you call it? It's wet, you know. It's real wet right now."

"Yes, dear; that's your pussy. What word did you call it in school?"

"The books call it your vagina." 

"Right, but a man calls it a 'pussy' or some other names, too."

"What? What other names?"

"Oh, like, cunt or twat or snatch or love box," and she giggled at that one.

"Love box? Oh, I get it; yours sticks out and mine goes in. Mine is a box, right, because you can put something into it." And she got a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Right, dear girl. Now what do you suppose a man would put into a beautiful woman's love box?"

"Oh, I can't imagine, Ed. Tell me. Show me. I want to know everything."

"Well, I'm willing to show you, but first you have to take off those little yellow panties. I want to show you what your pussy really looks like." She looked at me sort of startled because she probably thought I was going to take them off, but bent over and slid them down to her ankles and stepped out of them. When she stood up, she dangled them in one dainty hand and looked at me as I said, "Now, sniff them, Nancy."

She looked shocked for a second, then slowly lifted them to her nose and inhaled her own scent. At that moment, when her panties were under her nose and covering her mouth, I put my thumb on their white cotton crotch panel and forced open her mouth, sliding the cloth covered thumb into it. She got the idea very quickly and closed her lips to suck on her own taste. "M-m-m-m-m-m-m-," she murmured though the panties.

I pulled the thumb and panties out of her mouth and kissed her on the lips. "Yes, my dear; you taste very good, don't you?"

She didn't have time to reply as I lifted her by the waist with both hands and sat her on the edge of the pool table with her knees spread and me standing between them. I kissed her and told her, "Now, we are going to complete our lesson for the day."

The table was not a regulation-sized table due to the smaller size of our basement. I realized that with just a little stretching, an incredible position could be obtained. I put my hands on her shoulders and laid her back across the table and lifted her feet in my hands. I put one heel in the corner pocket and the other in the side pocket. She was stretched, but not terribly uncomfortable. I stood there between her thighs, knees in the air and looked down at that absolutely lovely blonde pussy in front of my face. What I saw there could only be described as a golden vision. The overhead Tiffany lamp threw specks of red-gold into her curls and I was nearly overcome.

I stroked the tender flesh of her inner thighs and reached the apex to caress her swollen lips, finding them already heated and slick. I spread some of the slickness around on her lips and thighs and said, "See, love, you are wet right here; right here in your pussy; just like I said you would be if you were with a man and became excited. Do you know what you want to learn next?"

She was about to give up the game and moaned out loud, "Oh, for Christ's sake, Ed; teach me anything you want, but touch me quick. I am almost ready to explode. What the hell have you done to me?"

"I've turned you into a fuck slut, my little neighbor girl all grown up. But remember, you are MY fuck slut. You go right ahead and fuck Mike all you want to, but always in bed or on the couch or someplace; never on the pool table or in his office or anyplace that you and I will fuck. Is that a deal?" And I punctuated that request with a stab of my thumb into her hot pussy entrance, knuckle deep.

"Oh shit, yes!" she screeched and tried to remove her feet from the table pockets.

I pulled her back down and slid two fingers inside with the thumb and began stretching and pulling at her lips, making the hole larger and wetter and hotter and softer. Within the next six or seven minutes, I managed to slide three fingers all the way inside her tight little pussy up to the point where the web of my hand held me out. She was panting and straining and bucking up at my hand to achieve a release that I was not about to grant.




Nancy the Girl Next Door Ch. 2



"Not yet, sweet girl; there are other things to do first." And I dove into her Velvet Valley with my mouth wide open. As my fingers withdrew, leaving a stretched and gaping hole in front of me, my mouth plunged inside. My lips went completely inside her lips and found a hot wetness that even I had not expected. And I licked. And I sucked. And I bit down on her rubbery wet lips and pulled them outside of their protective grotto into the light and the air, where I sucked them into my mouth and chewed on them as I found her clit hiding in her sheath with a thumb and forefinger. I pinched and pulled on her and found her hard slickness under my touch. I was in heaven.

Nancy bounced her ass up and down on the table and groaned for me to "…do me…do me…let me come…I gotta cum…I'm gonna cum!" And she did. Fast, hard, stomach muscles fluttering and spasming, she came and smeared my face and beard with enough new lubrication to float a good-sized new boat on its skids to the water.

And she collapsed.

"Jesus, Ed! What are we going to do about this? I can't go on cumming like this. I'm going to pass out one of these times. You can't imagine what it feels like. The current starts somewhere down around my calves and tingles and tingles until all of a sudden it is in my thighs and then POW! My whole fucking body is cramping and screaming for a release. Where in the hell did you learn to do that? What does Judy think?"

I nearly laughed out loud. "My dear little girl," I said with cum smeared all over my lips and face, "Judy has never, ever, in her entire life, had an orgasm. She simply would never allow it. Don't forget: that feeling MUST come straight from the Devil. God would not ever want you to feel THAT good! Or, at least, that's the way she thinks."

"Damn! She doesn't know what she's missing. Can we drop the little game now? I thought it was cute at first, but I had to try to keep my mind on my role and I just couldn't do it most of the time. My pussy was screaming for you to touch her from the minute I walked in the door." 

She watched as I stood up and wiped my face with her panties and slipped them, too, into my pocket. "I'm going to have to come over here bare-assed from now on or I'm not going to have any panties left in my drawer by the end of the month," she laughed.


"Oh, so that means you are going to visit again?"

"A good Catholic girl would never say this, but you're fucking right I am. I still have something I want to try, but I don't know how I'm going to do it."

"What might that be?" I asked.

"I don't think I'm ready to tell you yet," she answered.

I immediately bent and grabbed her puffed up pussy lips with both hands and spread them as wide as I could; then I thrust my face into the opening and sucked at anything I could find, including wet, rubbery lips and clit-hood flesh. I bit down and pulled as hard as I could. She screamed and yelped in pain and surprise, then slammed her ass up into my face and screamed again as she climbed that hill and fell of the cliff into the abyss of orgasm. "For Christ's sake, Ed, don't do that again! I can't take it! I'm weak and think I'm going to pass out."

I spread her legs even farther and bit down on her clit to pull it out as far as it would go and flicked it a dozen or more times with my tongue as I slid one finger into her sloppy wet cunt and wet it thoroughly. I then slid that finger directly into her tiny rosebud asshole up to the knuckle and twisted it. She screamed as I bit her clit again and passed out, going absolutely limp on the pool table with her knees sagging to the side and her head lolling to the other side.

I waited, stroking the wet fur that covered her soggy cunt and stomach and she came around in approximately two minutes.

"Oh, my God! Oh, my living God! What did you do to me? What was that?"

I explained I had finger-fucked her ass and told her that I could show her a lot more things that she had probably never experienced if she would devote the time and the energy to learning from me. She smiled up at me and told me that if I could promise she would feel like that every time, she would be on my back porch every day until she died.

Laughing at her simplicity, I told her that if she came over here for such sexual romps every day, it would be I who would be dying. Deliberate physical exhaustion of an old man is most certainly a crime in this state, I told her, and she was going to exhaust me if she kept it up. And I showed her my own cock, red, swollen and rampantly aroused.

"You poor thing," she cooed, "here I am flying to the moon and you are nowhere near. Can I help you? Do you want to fuck me? What do you want to do, Ed? I'm sorry I've been so selfish."

I told her that I was not interested in anything except making her very happy and I thought we ought to go take a look at something before we made any other decisions. She looked a bit unsure, but agreed with me and we walked, both naked, up to the living room. We carried our clothes because we had no idea when this would end or where and wanted to be able to get out of the situation as fast as possible if the situation warranted.

Turning on the TV and the VCR, I re-wound the tape to the beginning of the scene in which the uniform-clad girl on the screen was going to sit down on the first guy's cock. We both noticed at once that this guy's cock was outsized…probably 9 or 10 inches in length and very, very thick. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Nancy began to play with her pussy hair while watching the screen. She was fingering herself quite rapidly by the time the girl had managed to slide down the entire length of his thick pole and was sitting on his stomach. The look on the girl's face and the look on Nancy's face were almost identical. I asked her, "How would you like something that thick and that long inside your cunt?"

"Oh, shit, Ed, I don't think I could stand it. You'd be carrying me out of here in a box."

I laughed and told her that I had an idea she might like to try. She looked puzzled, but her hand never stopped tugging and twisting at her clit and the hair that surrounded it. I walked to the kitchen, to the refrigerator, then to the microwave, then back into the room within a minute and a half.

In my hand was a thick, bumpy, green cucumber that I had warmed in the microwave until it was just about at body temperature and a little soft. I handed it to her and told her to shake hands with the next cock she was going to fuck. She grabbed it out of my hand and wrapped both hands around it, feeling its warmth and its girth. She looked at me and asked, "Are you fucking serious?"

"I certainly am. I am not large enough to give you the feeling you need, so let's try something really slutty. I dare you to get down on all fours and let me slide this thing up your fuck hole as far as I can."

You would not believe how fast one woman can drop from a standing position to a doggy-style stance. She accomplished it in less than two seconds. There she was, leaning on her hands, knees spread far apart, pussy pointing back at me and absolutely dripping with slick juice from her excitement and her manipulation. I knelt behind her and rubbed the cucumber along her cleft and watched as she threw her head back at the feeling of this warm log sliding between her thighs. I rotated it and rubbed it against every inch of exposed tissue until it was wet, shiny and very slippery with a coating of her own lube.

"Here we go," I told her softly. "You control it. I will start it and then you will sit back on your heels just like the girl in the video." I had hit 'pause' on the VCR and the girl was sitting there with the guy's cock shoved deep into her cunt and with an incredible smile on her face. "When you have to stop, stop. When you are ready to push farther, push. Don't do anything that hurts. Just go with the flow and relax, dear, relax; you will be able to take almost all of it, I guarantee you." And I slipped the first inch of the end of the cuke into her slippery cunt.

"I don't believe how good it feels," she croaked. I slipped another inch inside and watched as her lips began to spread and stretch against the diameter of the cucumber's shaft. Her lips pulled inward and held onto the shaft as I turned it around in rotations, coating it even more with her slickness. I moved the two inches out and then back in at least a dozen times before I took her by the shoulder with one hand and pulled her back to sit down on the green invader stuck into her heated chasm.

"Now, sit down slowly and push it all the way home." I whispered into her ear.

She did. Among groans and cries and gasps and huge exhalations of breath, she managed to slide all but about one inch into her sloppy cunt. She was panting. She was out of breath. I told her to relax every muscle and just concentrate on how good it felt. She was red in the face and her eyelids were fluttering. Christ! I hoped she would not black out again. She exhaled a huge sigh and relaxed on her haunches, thrusting the final inch into her and her face exploded in a smile as her cunt lips wrapped around the end.

"Oh, damn, Ed; it's all the way in, isn't it? It's all in me! Little me! My little cunt is stuffed so full I can almost feel it in my mouth. Oh, God, this is wonderful. I'm going to cum if I move an inch. I am so on the edge. I am so close."

I stood in front of her and took her face in one hand and turned it to look at the TV screen. I hit the button for 'play' and the other guy stepped up in front of the girl and held her face just like I was holding Nancy's. He laid the head of his cock on her lips and she opened her mouth and sucked the head inside in one smooth motion.

I turned Nancy's face up toward me and laid my own cock head on her mouth and she opened her mouth and kissed it and then sucked it inside without a sound. I let her slide her head far enough to the side to see the TV and watched as the guy began fucking her mouth. She backed off and allowed the head to slip out of her lips and looked up at me as she said, "Let's race. Who cums first? Him or you?"

"Do you mean I am going to cum in your mouth, Nancy? He does. I've seen this before. He cums in her mouth so hard that she can't hold it all and it runs down her cheeks and onto her tits. Are you ready for that, little girl?"

In answer to that, she reached for the remote, hit the 'play' button, threw the remote across the room and sucked my cock back into her mouth. She was in control. She matched her mouth strokes on my cock exactly to the strokes of the guy on the screen. He was fucking the girl's mouth; Nancy's mouth was fucking my cock.

Needless to say, I did not last nearly as long as the professional cocksman on the screen. It didn't even take five minutes for me to be at the edge. I groaned and told Nancy, "I am right at the edge. Are you ready for this?"

She grunted, "Uh-uh," and shook her head side to side. I noticed she had one hand under her and was bouncing up and down on the cucumber. Damn, she was going to cum again with that green stick shoved into her gash. I held back as long as I could and just as I began to tell her that I was over the edge, she screamed. Her mouth opened around my cock as she screamed, then moaned; and I shot a long, ropy stream into her throat. At first, she choked, but knew what had happened and closed her lips around my cock head and sucked and bobbed her head as if she had been doing it forever. I realized, of course, that she was simply mimicking the action of the young blonde on the screen, but it felt like the end of the world for me. My cum splattered and splashed into her mouth and throat. It filled the cavity quickly and was squirting out at the corners of her mouth every time she slid down on my shaft. She looked up at me with almost fear in her eyes and I held her face in both hands and tenderly said, "Swallow my gift, dear girl. You have caused it; you ought to keep it."

She stopped dead in her tracks, not quite knowing what to do. At that moment, the man with his cock in the girl's mouth began to groan and the camera zoomed in to show cum flowing out of her mouth and down onto her tits. She sucked and sucked and then turned the head loose. Her open mouth was directed toward the camera and she smiled as she swallowed his deposit. She used one finger to clean off her face and tits and licked it clean as well. Her smile for the audience was radiant.

And I looked down at Nancy. Her throat worked and her mouth tightened around my cock. And she swallowed every ounce that had flowed into her. Not only did she swallow, but she sucked harder and harder as she realized there was still a bit left that she had not tasted. And as I softened, I leaned forward and filled her mouth with my flesh, and she groaned and purred around my cock.

She was getting a bit rough and he was getting tender, so I took her face in my hands and withdrew, slowly, until just the head was trapped behind her lips. I held the shaft in one hand and wiped the head across her lips as I withdrew it all the way.

She smiled up at me and licked her lips and swallowed every taste she could get. "Well, I guess we are going to have to practice that until you can last as long as he did, Ed," she said with a giggle and a little squeeze to my cock.

"I don't think that will ever happen, dear girl. After all, he is looking at her; I am looking at you – my own, personal, Catholic-girl slut. How could I possibly last that long?"

She stood up against me; we cuddled and stroked each other. She purred like a very warm and contented kitten. I slid one hand between her thighs and allowed her to expel her green guest into my hand. We shared the taste of the coating between our mouths and groaned at how delicious it was.

I told her that if this was something she might wish to repeat, I was certainly willing. We would just have to be quite discreet due to the closeness of our two families. She agreed and told me that she was not sure how long she was going to be able to wait until we got together again. She said her pussy was already itching for more. I reminded her that she always had cucumbers at home, and she laughed, "Ed, I know there is more to that tape; and I want to begin at the beginning and work through until the very last minute with you. Do you think we can do that?"

"Well, not all at one sitting, I'm sure," I told her, "and there are some rather slutty things that she does for that guy and his friend. Remember my finger in your ass? Well, how would you like my cock there? She does it for him. And, of course, the entire tape is dedicated to one woman and two men. Do you think that might be a possibility for us in the future? How would Mike take to sharing you with me?"

"Oh, Jesus! Never! He'd die if he ever even thought I was going to be with another man."

"Then, how are we going to duplicate the scenes on the video? I, personally, don't think I can grow a second cock in that short of time," I laughed.

She kissed me and sucked at my tongue for a moment before she answered. "There is something I noticed on the video, Ed. Something that might help us out a lot. Did you notice the guy that had his cock stuck up her pussy?"

"Yes, I did. What about him?" I questioned.

"He was black," she sighed into my chest.

And the scene faded into gray on the TV screen; but the scenes in my head jumped into vivid color – living color – for the next time we might entertain an 'afternoon delight."



Nancy the Girl Next Door Ch. 3



A short note to my readership: what began as a one-shot "lark" of a story dealing with an old man's fantasy(?) about his relationship with the woman next door has now developed into a saga of unexpected proportions. Here follows chapter 3 of what may prove to be a rather lengthy story describing this surprise series of "incidents" between neighbors. I hope all of those who choose to read this and any succeeding chapters will relax and enjoy the emotions that are – I sincerely hope – elicited by my writing. Commentary and criticism is always solicited from a faithful readership.

It had been some three weeks since Nancy and I had become "re-acquainted" with each other. I'd seen her on the porch, in the yard, with her children, with her husband, talking to other neighbors and generally in situations and/or places where we could not talk privately. I had often wondered just exactly what thoughts were going through her head and what opinions she held about our previous escapade at my house, but neither of us broached the subject as we passed by each other in our daily routine. Until last Friday, that is. That day shall live in my memory as long as I retain any semblance of gray matter under this bald head. On Friday, Nancy introduced me to Sebastian.

The doorbell had rung just before noon on Friday. When I went to the door, I found Nancy in the company of a younger man (younger than I, but older than she) who could only be described as a young Harry Belafonte in a much darker shade. The man was black, ebony, pure obsidian in color; so black that his skin shone with the luster of old teak furniture. And he was large; perhaps 6' 4" with hands akin to Virginia smoked hams and shoulders wide enough to nearly blot out the light when he stood in the doorway. I took in these details as Nancy spoke in her little-girl voice, "Ed, I'd like you to meet a new friend, Sebastian Delacourt. We met at Sarah's wedding last weekend and I thought you ought to meet him. May we come in?" She was dressed quite casually, but also quite attractively in a simple summer sundress sort of frock with a halter-top and tight waist, and a flared, full skirt that reached just below her knee. Her legs were bare and tanned and she wore tiny hemp sandals on her feet.

Not wishing to appear idiotic, I stood aside and allowed them to pass by me. Sebastian preceded Nancy, and as she brushed by me I grabbed her arm and whispered, "What the hell is this?" She only smiled a very wicked smile at me and moved into the living room toward Sebastian. She motioned him to sit down on the end of the couch while she sat immediately next to him, almost with her thigh against his. I could sense a bit of embarrassment on his part, but he didn't move away, either. In fact, his leg appeared to move a few centimeters toward Nancy's.

Nancy cleared her throat and began a short narrative. "Sebastian and I met at Sarah's wedding last weekend and we had quite a good time talking together about things in our country and in his country. Sebastian is from Sudan. He is a Reformed Muslim. His way of doing things seemed rather peculiar to me when we were talking about it, but after some further reflection, I thought you and he ought to meet. He will only be here for another two days and then will return to the Sudan, to his four wives." And she took specific pains to make certain I understood those last four words. My eyebrows shot up and I looked at Sebastian in a questioning manner.

"Yes, Edward – may I call you Edward? – I do have four wives in my country. I am rather wealthy by our standards and can afford them. Many men in the United States either wish they had several wives – all like Julia Roberts or Cameron Diaz, of course – or that they had no wife at all. I am often intrigued by your morality here. I've studied it off and on for some fifteen years in my travels. Nancy, here, told me that you and she have had some discussions recently about morality and customs regarding matters of sexual intimacy. I was surprised that she would speak to me of those things, as she is a practicing Catholic, but then I realized that she is simply a very curious individual who happens to be both Catholic and female. Why she brought me here to see you is still somewhat of a mystery. I have been told that you have something for me to view which will give me a new slant on how relationships between the Black and the White races could be vastly improved in America, and perhaps around the world. Nancy has told me that you treasure the item you are going to show me. I am rather excited to see what the common man in America would do to improve international race relations. May I be so bold as to request that you show me what it is she has been talking about?"

I was dumbfounded, to say the least. I hemmed and hawed and spoke around the topic for more than ten minutes as I complimented him on his command of English and asked some polite questions, etc.; but Nancy soon put a stop to my stalling and asked me to get out the "research video" that I had behind the book shelf. I had known all along what was being referred to, but I just could not believe the thoughts and images racing through my mind. I moved slowly toward the hiding place of the tape and withdrew it. "Are you sure this is what you want, Nancy?" I asked her.

"Of course, Ed; I am absolutely positive that Sebastian will see the specific benefits of your theory and will want to place it into effect immediately. I am prepared to assist in any way I can in that noble endeavor, aren't you?"

"Well, I suppose I am, but how about Mike? I am certain he does not agree in total to everything that my 'theory' has to offer. How will he react if he knows you have been sharing this with Sebastian?"

"Mike is out of town until late tomorrow afternoon, Ed; and, by the way, you won't be bothered by my children playing outside for the next two days. They are visiting my mother in Philadelphia. I saw your wife leave this morning with her overnight case, too. Is she off on another of her church missions?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, she is; she won't be home for two full days, I expect. Are you certain that now is the time to unveil my theory to Sebastian? We could wait until later in the day."

"Nonsense. If he is going to agree to the principles and the benefits, he will agree just as well now as later. I'd like you to begin with the presentation right now." And I watched as she squirmed deeper into the cushions of the couch and, after kicking off her sandals, lifted both bare legs up under her on the couch, causing her to turn just slightly toward Sebastian, with her tucked-under knees touching his thigh.

I looked at Sebastian and found him to be listening intently to Nancy's words and when she had finished, he looked at me and nodded in agreement. There was little else to do except trust this little woman's instincts. I slipped the tape from its hiding place and into the VCR slot. I punched the proper buttons and sat in my favorite chair across the room from the TV, next to the couch. The screen flickered a few times and the video began.

For just a second, as the video began, Sebastian seemed to lose all color in his face. He blanched and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. On the other hand, Nancy's color heightened to the point that I could see her blush from where I sat. It crept downward from her cheeks to cover her chest and I knew she was rosy-pink under her thin dress. She moved her legs a bit and I could also tell that she was rubbing her thighs together in anticipation of what might be on the verge.

Sebastian turned his head toward me – not without some hesitation, as the young girl in the video was already performing for the camera – and began to ask a question. I did not let him get a word in before I blurted out, "You'll please remember that this was Nancy's idea, not mine! I had no information that the two of you were going to appear here on my doorstep today. Believe me, Sebastian, there is a woman of very deep secrets sitting next to you."

He turned farther toward Nancy and looked directly at her face. Without saying a word, he reached out and took a handful of her hair and tugged her forward, forcing her to slide off the couch and to kneel in front of him. He used both hands, now, one on either side of her face, clenching a fistful of blonde hair, and spoke to her face in a tone that brooked no disagreement whatsoever. "Little girl, you have opened a Pandora's box. You have absolutely no understanding of the ramifications of what you have just done. You have delivered an invitation – no, you've offered a challenge; and a man of my country cannot, above all else, refuse such a challenge. Do you really think you are prepared for what is about to come your way?"

Nancy made to speak in response, but Sebastian curled his two thumbs around her face and pressed them into her lips and effectively shut her mouth. "You will not speak unless I give you absolute permission to do so. All communication from you to me will be through motions – a nod or a shake of the head, a touch, a look. You will not speak from this point on. Is that understood?" Slowly, Nancy's head bobbed up and down in a 'yes' motion.

"While I hold your lovely white face in my hands, you will disrobe completely in the position you now occupy. It will be difficult, but you must accomplish it in a very short time. If you do not, there will be some retribution involved.

I watched as a small shudder ran through Nancy's body, from her bare shoulders to her shapely calves folded beneath her. Was she in fear of this man and what he could do? Was she already anticipating some sexual connection she had only fantasized about? What, really, was in store for her – and for me – over the next few minutes, hours?

Sebastian and I observed her movements and noted to each other that they almost seemed practiced. She lifted her hands to untie the halter-top, which was knotted behind her neck. She never broke eye contact with Sebastian and when the knot had been released, she held the ends in her hands for a few long seconds before lowering the strands to the floor, allowing her breasts to be completely uncovered. She wore no bra, but as I've described earlier, she needed none – her breasts are so tiny as to make a bra totally unnecessary. Sebastian's eyes moved from her face to her chest as he held her head between his huge palms and was – apparently – delighted with the tiny mounds that were revealed. 

Nancy did nothing to try to cover them from our view and stretched her arms behind her, seeking the tab on the zipper at the waist of her dress. Locating it with very little difficulty, she slid it down to its limit and as the skirt bagged loosely around her hips, she slid it downward, over her shapely ass and to the point where her knees were touching the floor in front of her black friend on the couch. I took notice immediately that she was not wearing her daughter's panties today, but had a delightfully tiny pair of lilac string bikini panties covering just a small bit of her lovely cheeks. She lifted one knee after the other and pushed the bunched-up dress past them and then wiggled her legs out of the confines of the material altogether. She reached back and grabbed the material and tossed it out of our line of vision.

Now she knelt there, naked save for her tiny hemp sandals and her lilac panties. I could not see from my angle, but I knew that there was very little in the way of material in the front of those panties, and it would cover very little of importance. Sebastian was making a great effort to see what she was covering, but his angle, too, made it difficult, so he released her face from his grip and instructed her to straighten up. She complied, but placed her folded hands in her lap, effectively covering anything that we might see with regard to her treasures.

Sebastian leaned forward, gripped her left nipple between his right thumb and forefinger and whispered directly to her face, "Remove your hands or this shall be but a taste of what is to come." And he pinched her nipple rather viciously, I thought.

She gasped, arched her back and opened her mouth to complain, but he covered her lips with his and kissed her deeply and heatedly. I watched as her hands unclasped and fell to the floor on either side of her legs. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing and her nipple swelled and turned a violent red as Sebastian tortured it with his fingers.

Abruptly, he released both her nipple and her mouth. She exhaled with a heavy rush and reached with one hand to touch her sore nipple. Sebastian rebuked her and told her to sit up straight again. She did so, but slowly; and he bent to kiss and suck at the sore nipple, bathing it with his saliva-covered tongue until it glistened and shone in the light. And he sucked – fiercely and loudly, pulling at the distended nipple. The entire tip of her breast was swollen and bulged outward when he finally finished his oral ministrations. Nancy's head lolled backwards, but she did not move to cover herself or slouch again. Now, Sebastian sat back into the cushions of the couch and instructed her to stand up in front of him. She complied by placing one foot under her, then the other, and raising up until she stood only a few inches from the edge of the couch, actually between his knees, with her legs clamped tightly together. Her beautiful golden-red bush (which I had been privileged to see, feel, taste previously) was bulging at the front of a very small lilac panel of silky material. The panel seemed to be straining to hold back what I knew to be a wonderfully full bush of silky hair, as well as the already-swollen lips behind that bush.

Sebastian looked directly at Nancy's face and she stared back at him. The gaze did not waver and she began to color, flushing pink, then red across her breasts and shoulders, her neck and face. Sebastian's eyes now moved down across each flushed inch of her exposed skin until they reached a level that allowed them to bore into that tiny patch of silk that hid her waiting pussy. He almost whispered, "Open your legs, little girl." I thought it was a delightful coincidence that he was using the same term of endearment I had used during our episode of a few weeks back – 'little girl' – and smiled to myself.

Nancy slowly moved first one foot, then the other a bit more to the side, and Sebastian whispered, "More, dear." Within the next few minutes, Nancy's legs spread wide to the point that her feet were spread somewhat wider than her shoulders and her thigh muscles were taut and beautiful. Sebastian now sat forward on the couch and placed his face not two inches from the patch of lilac silk. Only the slimmest of margins separated his mouth from her pussy. He blew his breath onto the silk and she shivered. 

My eyes cold not tear themselves from this beautiful scene. My lovely little neighbor was submitting herself to this large black man in my own living room. Her body was actually trembling with anticipation. I watched as his hands moved up along the outside of her legs, from calves to thighs and then to hips. He stroked upwards and down again, more than four or five times, with fingertips only. Quivers of delight ran through her thigh muscles and caused her stomach muscles to contract as well.

Finally, Sebastian's hands stopped at the sides of her lilac panties and hisa thumbs insinuated themselves into the waistband of this tiny garment. In the blink of an eye, her panties were torn from her hips. I hardly even saw his hands move, but in a nano-second her panties had dropped to the floor between her legs, the waistband torn apart in two places. My eyes were drawn downward to that tiny scrap of material and I wondered to myself if I might eventually add it to my collection. Sebastian's eyes, however, were now glued to Nancy's most private region. They roamed back and forth and up and down, taking in each inch of her deliciously furry mound. The sunlight streaming in through the window cast its beam directly on the front of her pussy and the hair turned red-gold in that light.

Sebastian now ran his hands up the insides of her legs. As before, he caressed the entire length from ankles to the highest point on her inner thighs. He never actually touched her pussy, but the backs of his fingers did brush the hair that curled there. While looking at her panties, now discarded in a tiny heap on the floor between her feet, I noted that the crotch panel was quite moist with a decidedly shiny wet spot directly in the center. Now I could see that her pussy itself was quite wet as those golden curls were already wet and some of them were plastered against her skin; others formed darker ringlets upwards toward her stomach. As I took in these details I heard Sebastian draw a deep breath through his nose and noticed that he had leaned in so close to her pussy that the tip of his ebony nose was, in fact, touching the curls on the very front of that inverted "V" of her garden. He was obviously enjoying her scent – as much as I had several weeks ago, I assumed – and was contemplating what to do next.

With his nose pressed almost against her pussy and inhaling her scent, I saw his huge left hand travel around her hips until it almost covered her ass. He slowly pulled her forward until his face was fully buried in the hair on the front of her mound. And his right hand now snaked its way upward to her wide-spread crotch and with the palm facing upward, cupped her entire sex in one hand. Her lips appeared abnormally fat and puffy. I had not remembered them quite this swollen when I had encountered them recently; but I assumed that her additional anticipation of being touched and possibly fucked by a Black man would account for the increased swelling.

I watched closely as his left hand pressed her farther forward, forcing his face more tightly against her; and as his right hand began to close slowly until it was actually squeezing those fat pussy lips and crushing them with his long fingers. I moved my position to stand at the end of the couch where I could get a closer look at the area he was touching and immediately saw that there were tiny rivulets of liquid seeping between his fingers and running down the back of his hand. Nancy's head was thrown back and her eyes were closed tightly. Repeated mewing sounds escaped her throat and her tiny breasts puffed and swelled larger than they had probably ever been before. The aureoles were huge in comparison with the rest of the breast and the nipples thrust themselves almost upward, seemingly begging to be touched or sucked or – something. I could not resist. I moved to her side and bent to capture a nipple in my mouth and immediately sucked it deeply between my lips and bit down on it with my teeth.

Nancy screamed and shuddered, her hands flying to my head and pulling it tightly against her breast where my mouth opened to the widest possible and devoured her tiny breast. I flicked the swollen aureole and nipple with the tip of my tongue as fast as I could move it and was immediately rewarded with another combination scream/groan and a deeper shudder.

Sebastian mumbled through her pussy hair that if I did that one more time he would probably drown, and I released her breast long enough to look down and see that his entire face was wet and shiny with her secretions. She had, apparently, already cum and her juices gave his face a slick coating of the results of those releases. Sebastian renewed his oral efforts, as did I, and we were both rewarded with a near-collapse of this young woman. I held her up and Sebastian said to me, "Hold her, Edward, I am about to delve into her mysteries."

And with that comment, he slid his thumb deep into her already slickly wet pussy. There was no resistance, no friction, no pulling of the lips or hair; the thumb simply slid and disappeared inside her in one, long stroke, up to the web of his hand. And, believe me, his thumb was not the thumb of a normal man. If I were to estimate, I would guess it is a good 4" long from tip to web – whereas mine is a mere 2 ½ inches in length. And he had no difficulty sliding it in and out and around in circles, twisting and turning and pulling and stretching the hidden entrance to her Valley of the Goddess.




Nancy the Girl Next Door Ch. 3



And Sebastian spoke to me, "Edward, would you please bring that large hassock over here and place it behind her? I'd like to investigate this woman a bit more closely." I did as he requested and placed the large, square hassock behind her and he instructed me to lay her backwards on it with her shoulders and back squarely on the widest part. I took Nancy under the shoulders and leaner her backwards as he slipped his hand from out of her pussy and lifted her knees so that when she was laid back on the footstool, her ass was on his lap, her thighs were against his chest and her knees were on his shoulders with her feet behind him.

He could look down and stare directly into the gaping hole he had created with his thumb and its movements. He used both hands to spread her thighs and slipped them upwards toward her now-very-sloppy cunt and inserted the tips of both thumbs into her cavity. She stiffened a bit, but Sebastian spoke to her in a rather stern voice, "Nancy, my curious little fuck-toy, you have begun a journey of your own making; now do not cause either of us to force you to comply. You know you have asked for what you are about to receive, so do not resist. I shall not be responsible for what might happen if you do. Am I understood?"

Nancy immediately responded in the affirmative and relaxed her entire body. I watched as Sebastian's two thumbs slowly disappeared inside her and also watched her face go through a series of contortions – pain? No, not pain, for within two minutes of his slipping and sliding around inside her with two exceptionally large thumbs, she sighed an incredibly deep sigh and climaxed yet again. Sebastian's hands were now soaked and slick with her juices and he was using more than thumbs; he was inserting fingers along with the thumbs and pulling and twisting at her pussy lips until they were loose and spread open to a remarkable width.

"Hold her shoulders down, Edward; I am going to take her to a new level." I did as requested and he lifted her ass in both hands and placed his mouth squarely on the opening to her cunt and sucked. And sucked and sucked and sucked! I could hear the wet, sucking sounds of his mouth and watched as his face was again coated in her slickness. She was gasping for breath and I released her shoulders to grasp both breasts in my hands. I squeezed and came very close to punishing them with my palms, but resisted at the last minute. I did not know if I wanted to cause her any pain at this point. But, I'm now certain, she would not even have felt it if I had.

Sebastian moved his open mouth upward to the apex of her slit and located her swollen clit, for a long time released from its protective hood and pearly-white in its swollen state. He locked his lips around it and sucked it deep into his mouth as well. I could tell he was assaulting it with his tongue because Nancy began to jerk and spasm in a quite uncontrolled frenzy. She was moaning and almost frothing at the mouth in her ecstasy. He was relentless in his treatment of her clit, regardless of how sensitive it might be at that moment.

After approximately six minutes of this physical assault, Nancy arched her back almost impossibly and screamed out a long, shrill scream of commingled passion and pain and lost consciousness. Not again, I thought. Damn! What would Sebastian do now?

Almost before I had that thought through my brain, he asked me to do him a big favor. I was stunned at the request, but was so far into my own passion and pain that I knelt to comply. I unbuckled his trousers and as he lifted his hips from the couch, pulled both pants and boxers down his legs and off his feet. He had already, at some time unnoticed by me, removed his loafers and was now naked from the waist down. And as I knelt there, I could not help but marvel at what was in front of my eyes.

A cock? Nay, nay, say I. Not "a" cock! But "the" cock of the ages. Now, I immediately understood why Sebastian had taken so much time to prepare Nancy with his hands and his mouth. She was so small; and he was unbelievably huge. He understood the difference between pain caused by passion and pain caused by punishment. He was going to make it as easy as possible for her to live out her fantasy of replacing the girl in the video.

He asked me to lift her shoulders from the stool and he allowed her legs to slide down off his shoulders. She was still totally out of touch with reality, even though she had begun to mumble and moan a bit. When she was sitting in his lap with his cock pressed straight up between their stomachs, I could see that it reached nearly to her rib cage. A conservative estimate of the length of it would be 11 ½ or 12" without exaggeration. But the length was not the measurement in question. That honestly did not frighten me. What scared the hell out of me was the girth!

Look at a soda or beer can, dear readers. Do you realize the diameter of the typical soda can is approximately 2 ¾ inches? Correct. Now, I tell you without actually measuring, that Sebastian's huge, ebony cock was at least 3 ¼" in diameter. That is humongous. I allowed my brain to process this and realized that Nancy had already had a child – but that was a dozen or more years ago – and her pussy had stretched to accommodate that baby, yes; but this cock was now going to stretch the elasticity of her cunt lips to a limit she had most certainly not encountered since. Would I allow the plan to continue?

Of course I would. This little girl next door must have realized what she might be up against when she began this escapade. Why not take it to its fruition?