Chapter 2

That was it. He erupted, spraying hot come all over her innocent hand and his tummy. She held him, massaged him, until the spasms stopped, then quietly went to the bathroom for a warm, wet cloth. Returning, she gently cleansed his cock and skin, kissing him as she worked.

Even her clothing excited him. The feel of her jeans on his naked thighs, her breasts covered in layers of fabric. She was a good girl, and he wanted to honor his promise. They snuggled together, kissing and holding, talking more now about the time they had known each other and what they wanted. Without him asking, she unsnapped her jeans and wriggled out of them.

While kissing, he opened a button on her shirt, and she didn't stop him. Slowly, he opened them all, inhaling her sweet scent. She wrapped her bare legs around his, bringing her very wet panties in contact with his thigh. She was moaning softly in her throat, rubbing against him, lost in the desire she felt.

Her hand moved once again to his cock, still softly asleep against his balls. He started explaining to her that he needed some time when a miracle occurred. His cock stirred and came to life, throbbing to engorgement as she touched him.

She smiled at him, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Jerome, I want to be fucked. I want to feel your thick cock inside me, your fat head probing me, opening me, using me. Would you fuck me, please?" She turned and quickly climbed up the bed, resting her head on the pillows, offering her panty-clad ass to him.

She spread her legs, reaching down and pulling her panties to one side. He could see her face, hear her words, smell her excitement. He slid up behind her, grabbing her swaying hips and holding her in place. Her hand reached between her thighs, wrapping around his erection.

She guided him quickly to her brown curls, using the smooth, fat head to separate the curls and find the engorged slit. She held him very still and then thrust back against him, burying his cock deep inside her. She screamed with pleasure, turning her face into the pillows to muffle the sound.

Jerome probed her pink depths, quite sure he had never felt such silky heat in his entire life. They set up the perfect rhythm, in and out, up and down, deep then shallow. All the while, he could hear her, hear his sweet woman, muttering about his fat cock, his heat, his cock in her cunt, his cunt now. She said she loved the fat head, the way it probed her, then popped out, only to fuck her again. He was inflamed with desire.

Finally, he held still, feeling the need to explode overwhelming him. At that exact moment, she clenched her muscles, pulling him deeper, making the space tighter and hotter.

That was it. He came. He held her hips tightly and filled her with come, throbbing inside her until he couldn't remain there any longer.

She collapsed on the bed, and he crawled up to her, cradling her against his shoulder and side. They kissed again. Once more, she looked like his sweet angel, her hair softly tousled, her lips puffy and pink.

So much for promises.

***

Story 2: Fucking My Sexy Neighbor

I made one of those bold midlife decisions a few months ago when I left a company I had spent 15 years at to start my own business. The idea of waking up, lounging in my house all day, needing only a computer, a fax machine and a cell phone to consider it a workday appealed to me. I took my client roster with me, and in no time, business was a success.

One morning, sitting at the breakfast bar in my kitchen, scanning the finance pages on my laptop. It was a lazy, warm day for me as I sat in an undershirt and boxers. This is one of the perks of a home office.

Bored with reading about money and more impending financial doom, I decided to jump-start my day with a little porn surf. A quick click to one of my favorite sites, and my eyes were now scanning endless thumbnails of tits and ass.

I read a few hot stories and watched a video clip. My cock begged for some attention, and so it received as I fantasized into a delightful daze.

Something then suddenly caught my eye from outside the French doors, which I was obviously sitting right in front of.

I live in a two-story townhouse in a condominium complex. The back doors (kitchen, in this case) open to a small deck that overlooks a back alley that is barely the width of two cars.

Under the deck, on the first floor, is the garage. Across the alley is another row of condos, back-to-back with the alley in between.

And directly across from my window is another deck with sliding window doors (mine had French doors because the previous owner installed them).

When I turned to see what had caught my eye, I noticed a woman in a red robe watering plants on the deck. She was looking directly into my kitchen through the French-door windows. The watering can was in hand, but not watering anything at the moment.

It was my neighbor, I guessed, though I had never seen her before. I didn't know many of the people in my complex by name and only a few by sight. My hours with the company were too long to have time for neighborly small talk.

I'd always wave and smile to those I'd see outside. But this was one woman I didn't even know by sight, because I was rarely home during the day and didn't spend much time on my deck.

I immediately wondered if she had seen me, but figured the distance might have been far enough to protect my privacy. It was intriguing to think she might have caught me in the act, but also a bit embarrassing. I didn't want a call from the complex manager, telling me of a complaint of lewd behavior.

Of course, I could always counter with a peeping-tom complaint.

Careful to cover my ass, I grabbed a Sharpie and scribbled a sign on a piece of paper that read: "Get a webcam, it lasts longer!" I figured it would scare her away and keep her from telling anyone. When I held it to the window with a pissed-off expression, she looked startled. She put the can down and went immediately into the house.

Crisis averted.

But a few minutes later, something caught my eye again from the window. I looked out, and a sign from her caught me by surprise: "I have one." Underneath that was a screen name for a Yahoo account.

She gave me a minute to write it down and then pulled the sign away. She then sat at a computer that was positioned to the right of her sliding doors. The blinds were pulled completely back from the doors so that I could see all the way into her house. She sat, her right leg exposed at the opening of her robe. She was typing away.

I went to the laptop and logged into Yahoo. I plugged in her name and sent a message.

"Hello."

I then waved. She smiled. "Hello." She replied.

We began small talk about seeing each other, and she apologized for catching me "in the act." I asked her what act she was talking about, and she made a face with a tongue sticking out. She then asked if I had finished the job. I hesitated. What the fuck. I replied, "No."

She sent me an invite to view her webcam, and I clicked it. The screen showed her smiling face at me. I looked across the alley and saw her looking into the camera. "Don't you have one?" she asked. "No," I replied. "But you don't really need one, now do you?" I then looked out the window again, and she looked at the same time. We both laughed.