J has lived next door to me for nearly a year, coming and going without me giving him a second thought. Throughout this time I’ve been in a struggling relationship, prioritizing mental as well as physical faithfulness to my partner. But after months of trying and failing to single-handedly keep our relationship afloat, the strain became too much and I gave up. Now under-sexed, alone, and unable to meet anyone else socially because pandemic, it didn’t take long for me to notice my neighbor noticing me.
It started with yardwork. Early in the pandemic I decided to establish a garden, hoping to make being home all the time more bearable by making my house and yard as nice as I could. Sometimes while working outside, covered in sweat and dirt from pulling up weeds and overturning earth, J. would pass by. He always smiled at me under his mask, soft brown eyes crinkled around the edges and shining at me, looking for long enough that his attraction was obvious. Even though more than half the time he wore his mask wrong, slipped below his nose – something that ordinarily infuriates me, like the lustful hypocrite I am I still couldn’t help but smile back at him regardless.
J is a bit taller than average height, but compared with me very tall, with a tight, muscular body. He is also a South American immigrant, with English skills even more limited than my now rusty school-learned Spanish. Accents almost always give me an instant lady-boner, but here the idea of fucking someone who, because of our mutually limited conversation range, would see in me purely an object of lust, rather than getting caught up in the edges of my awkward personality… these thoughts have sent me running to my vibrator for release many a time. Because I know he works in close contact with other people, and can extrapolate from his lack of proper mask-caution a more general lack of hygienic caution, I know I will never actually fuck this man. But oh, reader, have I ever imagined any of dozens of ways I might.
*****
If we weren’t in a pandemic, I would start by inviting him into my house for a glass of iced tea after he’s stopped to watch me, ass in the air, bending over to pull weeds from my flower bed. I know we wouldn’t have much to talk about, so I’d be counting on the obvious sexual tension between us to quickly help things unfold. In real life either making a move or allowing a move to be made by another often plays out awkwardly for me – I’m not neurotypical and I’ve learned to give off some serious “don’t touch me” vibes to offset any hint of invitation I might be inadvertently giving with my clothes or awkward eye contact. I’ve fantasized about fucking J so often though that my desire for him is likely written in every quickened breath, every slight dilation of my pupils and the subtle arching of my neck and back, presenting to him the gentle rise of my large but still perky breasts as they swell into soft sighs of sexual frustration. Very few words would be needed to make my intention clear to J.
Kissing him, one hand caressing the back of his neck, I would quickly be drawn to his body, pressing myself into him and using my other hand to caress along the muscles of his torso and down to the glorious fullness of his tightly muscled ass. Walking him back into my bedroom, my hands already unbutton his pants, sliding them off as needless encumbrance for what I wish to follow. *Quitate tu ropa*, I tell him, already beginning pulling off my thin summer dress and bra. Watching him stare at my exposed DDD breasts, too large for my tiny frame, I ask, *te gusta?* Inviting him to stoop down and suck on them. Desperate for touch like this, I’d need no more than a minute of stimulation on my nipples before already erupting into my first small orgasm.
He looks at me surprised – most partners are once they learn how eager my body is to come for them. I bite my lip, and pull him down onto my bed, losing myself once again in the delight of making out with this handsome man I’ve already fantasized about dozens of times. The sensation of his hands on my flesh, tracing the bare skin of my back, tangled through my long hair, and squeezing on my plump ass cheeks no worse than I had imagined it, only guided by his different priorities. My own hands, wandering ever south, begin to trace the outline of his cock through his boxer-briefs. Just a little long for comfort, at 6 or 7 inches, and very girthy, just like I’d hoped. Pulling his underwear down, and out of my way, I begin playing with his cock with my hand, enjoying rolling his uncircumcised foreskin down and up, using my pressure of my palm to stimulate his frenulum through this skin, and then down again, working the base of his shaft with the grip of my small hand. Realizing he’s been watching me, hypnotized by his nearly perfect cock, I make eye contact with him and grin for the first time, holding his gaze as I lower my head to take him in my mouth.
I go slowly at first, letting him enjoy the encircling pressure of my lips before beginning to work the head of his dick with my tongue, slowly lapping sloppy circles around it, letting myself drool onto it to give my hand gripping onto the base of his shaft some lube to work with. I work his dick like this for several minutes before attempting to take him in my throat, choking before I can reach his base, backing off, and going again, and again, and again. I hear his groans of pleasure but stop myself, because I don’t have the words to ask about his refractory period, and I don’t want us to finish before I’ve ridden him to my own completion at least once.
Crawling up I kiss him, swinging one leg over his stomach so I can straddle his body and command our next step. I grab his dick and begin to rub it against my cunt, lengthwise along my lips, using the head to tickle my clit. Seeing his willingness, I center it against myself and plunge down on it, releasing a slight scream as I bottom out against his pelvic bone, feeling how well he fills me. I begin to fuck him slowly, raising my ass up and bringing it down, in and out, stopping occasionally to grind my clit against his pubic bone as his hands trace over my breasts, bringing me close to another orgasm.
Before I can claim it, however, J shifts his weight and flips me onto my back, and pushing inside my now dripping wet hole he begins to fuck me, hard, as fast as he likes, as I raise up my knees and wrap my legs around his back, allowing him in more deeply. He begins to kiss my neck, just below and behind my ear, and I can’t stop myself, cumming again in a long, contracting pulse, biting into his shoulder to stifle my scream.
He slows and I can tell he’s about to come. *Not inside me,* I ask. *Entonces a donde?* Silently I point to my mouth, or my breasts. He pulls out, and I watch him grip his shaft hard, working it in a handful of furious strokes before he erupts, shooting ropes of cum over my belly and breasts.
We lay back together on the bed, naked and for the moment calm, as I enjoy the sensation of his sticky cum congealing on my skin. One of his hands traces my hip bone. I bring his hand over, grazing my sex-swollen clit with them, silently urging him to explore the soft folds of labia and dive in. I watch him gazing at me until my eyes close from the building pressure of his fingers, now on my gspot, tips massaging it in a come-hither motion. *Quieres comerme?* My grammar may be imperfect, but my message is clearly on point, as he lowers himself and begins eating me out, fingers still inserted and ticking my gspot, speeding as my breathing grew heavier until working me into a final giant, thrashing, orgasm. After, I know I’m still not finished with him – only finished for now.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/if97pk/not_fucking_my_hot_latino_neighbor