The Triathlete Next Door [MF, 20s]

Skip down for the good part if so desired — it's clearly marked. Lots of preamble for those inclined.

I had lived overseas for several years teaching English. The gig got old and it was time to return to America. I had grown up in the rural South but had no intention of ever returning, so as my contract was nearing expiration I started interviewing for jobs at bigger cities.

I was able to land a job in the southwest. Coming back to America was strange and I didn’t know anybody in the area so I spent most of my time outside of work trying to get in shape, usually by riding my road bike. The town I lived in was small and my neighborhood was almost exclusively retirees and snowbirds – nice people, but not exactly a fun crowd, particularly for a 27 year old. Many of the houses in the neighborhood stood empty with “For Rent” signs out front, including the one immediately next door to me.

One Saturday a few weeks after I moved in, I returned from a long ride to see a moving van out in front of the house next door. I assumed it would be occupied by another set of geriatrics and didn’t think anything of it. I hung up my bike, took my shirt off as it was ridiculously hot, and sat about cleaning up my house and cooking dinner while blaring some EDM.

Before long, I heard a knock at the door. I figured it was a delivery person as I had been receiving a bunch of housewarming gifts since returning to the States and buying a place. I didn’t rush to answer the door as the delivery guy usually just propped the packages up on the porch as it was a quiet safe neighborhood and my house was at the end of the street. Eventually I got to a pause point in my cooking and went to see what was on my porch.

I opened the door and was surprised to see a cute strawberry blonde girl standing with her hands in the pockets of a running jacket. She appeared to be in her mid-20s. Her shoulder-length hair was in a pony tail, and she had on no makeup but was graced with that fresh-faced natural beauty of youth. Crystal blue eyes with a dazzling smile. She was wearing a skirt that came to her knees and flip-flops. I had struck out a few times on OK Cupid since coming back to the States and was painfully horny at that time – I clearly recall sneaking glances at her calves and finding them attractive, even though I’ve never been much of a leg guy.

She cheerfully introduced herself as Chloe and said she had just moved in next door. She was a software engineer at one of the local tech companies and had just been relocated to the area. I quickly apologized for the state of my appearance (shirtless sweaty dirtbag) and invited her in, excusing myself to go put on a T-shirt. We chatted for a bit about being new in the area and not knowing anybody. She admired by bicycle and told me how she was a triathlete and was planning on competing in a full Iron Man in a couple of years. Clearly she was much more into fitness than I will ever be, but I knew enough to talk the lingo and we got along well. I offered to make an extra plate for her but she already had plans to get dinner at one of the local churches – it was clear that her faith was a big part of her life as she already had secured a church before she was even moved into her house. We exchanged numbers and made plans to hang out at some point once she was settled.

That night as I was getting ready for bed, a text came in from her. Just idle chatting, but it was clear that we had chemistry. We stayed up for 2 hours messaging back and forth, eventually getting to the point where we joked about how it would be easier if we were just in the same room. I’m relatively sure the suggestion was innocent on her part, but the thought of her legs had me aroused and I jerked off to her before finally getting to sleep.

We had a friendly relationship for the next several weeks. It became clear that we were the only people in the neighborhood under 70 and we hit it off very well. Once or twice a week I’d go to her house or she to mine and we’d drink a few beers and talk about the day over dinner. I can cook pretty well (piece of advice, guys: learn to do this — all of the ass I've ever pulled has been at least in some way credited to my cooking) as could she, and while I felt very close to her our time together was never particularly intimate those first few weeks.

Our houses were arranged such that I had a direct line of sight into her master bathroom. On a few occasions I would see a blur of her hair through the window, completely unintentionally spying on her as I was standing there peeing. Our friendship was such that I actually felt bad about it so I started keeping the blinds (mostly) closed on my end. She, however, never closed the blinds to her large upper floor windows nor did she ever close the bathroom door, so if I were to perchance look out the window I would always have a clear view of her bathroom sink and mirror. Which meant that she would always have a clear view of my bathroom window while standing at the sink and looking in the mirror.

The months went by and we kept up this weekday friendship. I started having more luck on OK Cupid and made a bunch of friends through work, so we never spent time together on the weekend and it was conspicuous that neither one of us ever asked about weekend plans. Then in the late summer, I got tickets to a concert on a weekday night for a band I’d wanted to see for years and I asked her to accompany me. It was an innocent invitation but I felt a little frisky since we’d had a few beers and the show was amazing. As we were walking home, I let my hand drift over to hers. She reciprocated and we lightly held hands, tickling each others’ palms as we walked the city streets.

Eventually we got to our homes and I pulled her to me for a hug. She pulled back and I leaned in for a kiss. She stopped me and said “Look, I have a boyfriend.” Ugh. Felt like a gut punch. I completely didn’t see it coming, but of course in retrospect all of the signs were there. She told me she assumed I had a girlfriend given how we always made such an obvious point of avoiding each other on the weekends. I tried to play it cool even though I was being relegated to the penalty box as I really did enjoy her company. I tried to look on the bright side as well – dorm life taught me that having a relationship with a next door neighbor can (strike that: WILL) end in flames.

So I resigned myself to the fact that I was never going to get anywhere with her. She was clearly very religious (though she never rammed her faith down my throat, even though she could tell I was definitely not spiritual myself) and had a steady boyfriend. I would’ve been a piece of shit to break that up. I mentally let her go and doubled down on OK Cupid skanks.

The thing is…she kept texting me in the evening. Kept on coming over for dinner. Kept on leaving that bathroom door open. The days grew shorter as the fall went along and so I could very clearly see into her house when she had her lights on and mine were off. One night during dinner at my place, we discussed body types at length. She had the classic triathlete body – not an ounce of fat on her, and what appeared to be small breasts. She mentioned off-hand that her mother had a breast reduction due to back pain.

She left my place and I got ready for bed. A text came in as I was brushing my teeth, continuing our body type conversation. “Can your boobs change shape?” she asked. I nearly choked on my toothbrush. I teach AP biology and was doing a module on human anatomy at the time, so the question wasn’t particularly out of the blue. I responded with something benign and clinical and she kept on pressing the issue, telling me that she had lost some weight with her training and that at first hers had shrunk but that now they were growing.

You can see where this is headed.

Out of the corner of my eye, through the partially opened blinds, I see a flicker of movement from her house. I slowly move my head over to peek through a corner of the window and she’s standing topless in her bathroom, looking in the mirror. I can see her from behind, with the angle cutting her off about halfway down her ass. She’s wearing white boy shorts and it is amazing – round and firm and flawless. Through the reflection in the mirror I can see her tits as well, and she’s not kidding. They are large – much larger than I ever would’ve guessed. C cup at least. She must wear a few sports bras to keep them under control. She’s lifting and letting them drop, but despite their size they’re still amazingly perky and without any sag. I turn off my lights in an attempt to be subtle, hoping that she cannot see the silhouette of my head through my window but realizing full well after the fact that the light flicking off was a dead give away that I was watching her.

I open the blinds a little further and she turns completely around, now with her body facing me and looking over her shoulder into the mirror. Still lightly adjusting her breasts and occasionally playing with her nipples, the whole time texting back and forth with me. It’s clear she knows that I’m watching at this point. Looking straight at my window, she grabs her panties at the waist and slides them down. I can see just a the faint beginnings of a blonde bush. She gives the window (and me) a wry smile and walks out of the bathroom completely naked, turning to the right and heading into her bedroom while giving me a full view of her in profile. Texts me that she’s going to bed.

So of course that gets me going like never before. I jerk off about 3 times before I go to sleep that night. She brings it up peripherally a couple of times in text conversations and continues to regularly check herself out naked in the mirror before bedtime. Seeing her naked is getting to be the highlight of my day.

My birthday is in late October and my friends all decided to take me out to a restaurant within walking distance of my house. It was a Thursday night, one of the nights Chloe and I usually hang out, and I had the next day off. I invited her to come along, still ostensibly functioning as friends. We all started at my place with cocktails before walking down to the restaurant. I sat at the head of the table with Chloe next to me. The restaurant was a dark, candlelit, busy tapas place. As the dinner wore on, she started to caress my thigh underneath the table. Eventually we were holding hands, first under the table, then openly. This was our first physical contact since the night she told me about her boyfriend. All of my friends knew that she had strung me along and I could tell none of them were happy with this intimacy as it seemed I was setting myself up to get hurt, but thankfully none of them cock blocked me.

OKAY NOW BEGIN WITH THE SEXY TIMES

We walked back to our houses hand-in-hand and my friends drove home. Chloe invited me over to hers for a night cap. We barely made it in the door and she pushed me up against it, ferociously attacking my mouth with hers. She had worn this super tight-fitting dress that buttoned down the front and ended at mid-thigh, leggings, and tall boots. My hands were all over her ass and the sides of great tits as we made out standing up in the foyer.

Eventually we paused for breath. She took a few steps back, smiling nervously, and said “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” I said “I’ve been wanting to do that for months.” “Truth told, me too. How about that drink?”

She walked down the hall to the kitchen/living room area and opened up the fridge to get a bottle of port. I sat down on the tall kitchen stools on the other side of the island and watched her ass through her dress as she reached up to the high shelf for the glasses. The bottom of her dress hiked up and I saw that she actually had on thigh-highs. This view of her bare upper thighs sent me over the edge, and my cock was now so hard it hurt.

She came back around the island and handed me my glass. I downed it in one gulp and, still sitting on the tall stool, pulled her to me and resumed kissing her. It was frantic. This had been a long time coming and we both needed this release. Within seconds I had the front of her dress unbuttoned and the front clasp on her bra undone. I buried my face in her breasts and sucked and bit on her nipples, causing her to moan and paw at my belt. To paraphrase Morpheus, there is a difference between seeing the tits and licking the tits. They were great to look at from a distance, but they were amazing to behold in person. With my left hand I began working her dress up over her hips and saw that she had on a pair of matching black and white panties. My fingers traced over her cunt through the material and I could feel that there were completely soaked and radiating heat. I slid them gently to the side and sunk my middle finger into her.

She let out a gasp as my finger penetrated her and paused in her efforts to get my pants undone. I pulled away from her tits and watched her face as she writhed in ecstasy, taking short breaths with her eyes closed as I curled my finger back towards me. I snaked in a second finger – she may have been religious, but clearly was not a virgin – and she held onto my shoulders for support as she rocked against the finger fucking I was giving her.

We remained like that for what must have been a few minutes but seemed like blissful hours, my cock straining against my pants, she standing in front of me still clothed yet naked in all the right places, my fingers sluicing in and out of her gash while I thumbed her clit in a slow rhythmic motion. I could smell her cunt and I could barely contain my desire to sit her on the edge of the island and bury my face in it. Then something changed. She must have had a crisis of conscience, because suddenly she pulled away from me, pulled her skirt down, shuffled her tits back behind the fabric of the dress, and kissed me on the forehead. She said she had to go to bed and it was clear I was not invited.

Confused and frustrated, I started walking to the door. She leaned into kiss me goodnight and it turned into another hungry kiss up against the door, and I quickly had her tits out again, but she stopped before I could get back in her pussy and apologized, saying once again good night.

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE

So I walk the few steps back to my place. I’ve got a clinical case of blue balls and my dick is so hard I’m trying to find a way to get my pants off that doesn’t involve trauma shears. I manage to get down to my boxers which are soaked in precum and I’m cursing my stupid luck and vowing to never hang out with her again when a text comes in.

“The door is unlocked and I could use some company. Put on some PJs and come over.”

I jump into action like a goddamn volunteer fireman. I throw on some pajama pants and a T-shirt and sprint down the stairs and over to her place. The door is indeed unlocked and all of the lights are out. It’s completely silent. I walk up to her bedroom and she’s under the covers, laying on her side facing the door. We don’t say a word – I just crawl into bed next to her. My erection had subsided somewhat when I was at home but it came raring back now, pushing my PJs out to pitch a literal tent.

We’re spooning and I’m kissing her neck softly. She’s wearing a loose fitting T-shirt and even looser fitting boxer shorts. I can definitely tell she’s not got on a bra and I’m relatively sure there aren’t any panties under the boxers. I snake my hand up her shirt, feeling her firm flat belly and make my way slowly up to her breasts. She’s breathing quickly now as I nibble and blow on her ear and I make light circles around her nipples, pinching them occasionally. The pinches are met with small squeaks, but that’s as loud as she’s going to get.

I decided that I'm going to let her initiate anything serious from now on. She’s grinding that rock hard ass against my cock and I’m so horned out by that point that I'm sure she could’ve made me come through our 2 layers of clothing, but I’m not about to do anything below the belt unless she goes there first. Which she does. She’s still panting and whimpering as I lightly caress her stomach and breasts, and she begins to reach around behind and grabs at my cock through my pants. She reaches upward (a little awkward given the positioning) and starts to pull down on the elastic waist band. Bingo. I wriggle a bit to help her out and as I’m doing this she rolls over to face me and starts to attack my mouth with hers. She pushes me down onto my back after I’ve kicked off my pants and pulls my shirt over my head.

She now is straddling me, rubbing her boxer-glad pussy on my cock. It doesn’t feel great but it’ll do. She’s slowly rocking back and forth, making eye contact with me, not saying a word. I reach up to hold her hips and am again reminded of what a lithe piece of ass she is. I can feel her muscles ripple in her thighs as she moves back and forth.

Once again there’s a sudden change in her, but this time it’s for the better. Blindingly fast, almost as if she wanted to just rip it off like a band-aid so as to not have any lingering regrets, she pulls her shirt over her head, leans over on one knee to get her boxers off and strip down to nothing, and remounts me. Now she’s got her bare pussy lips sliding up and down the length of my shaft. She seems clearly happy with her decision as she leans back and closes her eyes, rubbing her clit faster and faster along the head of my cock until she came to a shuddering orgasm.

I don’t know how I held it in. Probably the blue balls from earlier. She was the closest thing to a perfect 10 I’ve ever had my dick near and she just came all over my bare cock. Once she came down from her orgasm, she scooted forward a little bit so that my cock was now sticking straight up between her ass cheeks. She silently leaned in to kiss me and I bent up to return the kiss, massaging those amazing tits in the process.

She pushes away from the kiss and stares at me for several silent seconds. I meet her gaze. Just as I’m starting to wonder if she’s going to have another attack of sanity, she shuffles back slightly, raises up on one knee, takes my shaft in her hand, and impales herself in one smooth motion. She is dripping wet and stretched out from all of the foreplay and I immediately bottom all the way out.

From there it’s a race to orgasm. She reaches down and pulls the back of my neck up to her. I’m thrusting up with my hips and she’s slamming down into me at a ridiculous pace. Blue balls or not, this is amazing. I am bareback and I know I’m not going to last long. She continues grinding her body into me, pushing her tits into me, gripping me neck and kissing me, trying to take all of me into her. I'm reciprocating by meeting her thrusts with my hips, holding onto her ass, clawing down her back.

She breaks the silence, but quietly, whispering in my ear: “Please, please come inside me. Don't pull out. I want to feel your come. Come inside me. Fill me up…fill me up…fill me uhhhhhhhhgggggnnnn…"

I can feel her cunt contracting as she comes again. I’m done. I know this is stupid but I am in no position to make an intelligent decision. I have what feels like one slow continuous orgasm lasting minutes. My balls were so full from so much pent up frustration over the past several months and the hours of teasing that night that it was more like a constant stream of jizz that I released into her instead of a series of blasts. She kept riding me and I kept coming – we could hear and smell it pouring out of her cunt and I could feel it cooling on the sides of my balls after a few more strokes.

Finally she stopped moving and we held each other for several minutes as she covered my face and neck in little kisses. She finally got up and a flood of semen splooshed out of her onto my stomach, making us both giggle. She told me not to worry – she was on the pill.

She married her boyfriend 2 weeks later. Apparently I was a one-man bachelorette party, little did I know.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3793j6/the_triathlete_next_door_mf_20s