The Woman Next Door [Cheating] [Slow Build] [MF]

After months of home inspections, planning and all the headaches associated with moving, it was nice to settle into my new home. It’s an upgrade from my little 2×1 apartment. I finally have enough space for all the rooms I want. The bottom floor’s quite private, but the top storey has glass windows from the floor to the ceiling. This means I have great views stretching to the city on one side, and the gorgeous hills on the other. What I didn’t realise is when I lay on my bed, I have a view straight down into the neighbours house. Into their bedroom no less. When I inspected the house, I never even thought this would be a possibility. The scenic views shouldn’t have extended into my neighbours most intimate areas. But as I settled into my first night in my new home, I realised this was my new reality.

After an exhausting day of moving, I slept early. Waking up with the sun warming me through the windows was lovely. As I rubbed my eyes, the first thing I saw was my neighbour sprawled out on her side of the bed. Her white cotton sheet covering most of her body, but it was clear she wasn’t wearing anything. There was no shirt, bra or pyjamas to obscure her perfectly tanned skin. Her hair a natural brown with natural blonde highlights etched in from her time in the sun. She looked like she’d be in her mid-late twenties. Youthful, but definitely a woman. Someone with responsibilities, and interesting stories. Her partner laid facing away from her, his dark hair unkempt after what I could only assume was a big night.

Even though my window looked directly into their room, and there was little I could do to avert my eyes, I still didn’t want to be that guy. The neighbour who just ogled a stranger through the window. So I decided to get up and go about my day. Freshening up in the shower, and then going to work on setting the house up, ensuring the security system worked and laying down new lawn both on the top of my agenda today. I grabbed the oldest shirt I could find, my everyday shorts and favourite work-boots, and headed out to look at the lawn.

My backyard was pretty overgrown, clearly untouched since the auction over a month ago. I’d borrowed a friend’s lawnmower for the day, as I’d never needed one in my apartment. I tugged at the chain and heard the old 4-stroke engine come to life. The early morning summer sun was still brutal, especially once I started pushing around the heavy mower. Old blokes made it look a lot easier than this. Arduous effort aside, I was pretty happy with how the back turned out. Much cleaner, even my edging work looked respectable. I ducked inside for a quick glass of water, the coldness refreshing after breaking into a sweat.

I knew the front would be less physically demanding, as I took the lawnmower through the garage, but there were some harder corners to sort out. As I restarted the engine, and pushed forward, I heard some voices to my side. The same couple I’d seen a short while ago were now at their front porch. Through the leafy trees which lined both sides of the picket fence, I saw the man dressed in business casual, his light blue shirt tucked into his navy pants like almost every office drone out there. He looked more put together than the presumably hungover and dishevelled person I’d previously seen. Still, something about how he was dressed irked me, or was it that his suitcase was so outdated? It was like the clothes wore him. His pants slightly too long, definitely not tailored, and the shirt baggy, likely a couple sizes too large. The woman on the other hand was dressed simply, in a red silk robe. She wore it with such poise. Robes aren’t really suitable to wear in public, but somehow she was pulling it off.

As I made my way around the main patch of lawn at the front, I saw them embrace and kiss each other goodbye. Judging by the size of his luggage, he’d be gone for five days, or maybe a week. Nevertheless, it wasn’t just an overnight trip. A black charter vehicle arrived shortly after. The driver exited the Lexus, and picked up the man’s suitcase, carefully placing it in the boot of the car. At this point I’d lost interest, focusing solely on finishing the lawn. I knew moving into a neighbourhood like this, that people would keep to themselves. Far too focused on their own goings on, to engage with the community meaningfully. As they both went their separate ways, I felt a sense of solitude return, which helped me finish the lawn easily.

I’d probably been outside for more than an hour by now. But honestly, my house looked all the better for it. Being a Sunday, I knew I’d have some emails to catch up on for work. Big cities never sleep. And it’s worse when you have to liaise across several timezones. Heading back up into my room, I grabbed my work laptop, and began the sieving process. Seeing what was important, and needing my immediate attention, and what I could let fall by the wayside, for today at least.

Gazing out again from my bed, I really appreciated the view from the second storey. The lush greenery of the hills almost made my weekend work ritual bearable. After scanning down the email list and reading the messages flagged as important, I couldn’t help but notice movement in my lower periphery. A hit of red moving elegantly, starkly contrasting with the greenery which surrounded my home. I paused for a second, moving my laptop to the side to get a better view. What started as a red silhouette, covering her from her shoulders down to her calves, slowly changed. She undid the bow which kept her robe fastened to her whilst facing away from her window. There was some steam emanating from the room next to hers. She must have started running a bath before I noticed. The robe fell softly down her body. She was skinny but supple, that effortless look that comes from working out that right amount. It didn’t look like she spent her whole life in the gym, however, she was a woman in the prime of her beauty. Her hair falling down to just cover her shoulder blades, her back beckoning in slightly, and her hips and ass just widening, her legs far skinnier than I realised. She didn’t waste time standing still, merely a second passing once her robe hit the floor, to when she walked out of my sight. By the time I caught myself, I realised I better move out of my bedroom, to minimise distraction.

Back on the ground floor, I sat at the dining room table, and powered through the emails, until I was famished. Although my fridge was up and running, I certainly didn’t have enough food to put together a decent lunch. I made a quick list of what I’d need for the next week. Previously, I’d do all my shopping at farmers markets. Fresh fruit and vegetables forming the staple of my home cooked meals. Cooking was my down time each day. The half an hour or so where I could just be myself, and reflect on the day that had passed. Sometimes I’d be too busy to cook, but I tried my best to not miss too many days. Today though, I decided to just shop at the local supermarket. I’d have to make do with whatever was there, but I didn’t have the energy to find out where to find nearby good local produce, that was a job for future me. I’d seen a supermarket just a few minutes walk, so I grabbed some recycled bags and headed out the door, taking my list with me.

Entering the supermarket, it was already obvious I was in a different environment. Inner city living in my old 2×1 had a lot of perks. Generally people were starting a family, or trying to climb the corporate ladder at a pace which was frankly unhealthy. There was a certain kind of pretension, but most people were invested in who they were becoming. Ensuring they were friendly, in case you knew someone they did, or they could benefit, or you know, just to be friendly. But this shopping centre had the stench of something more perverse. Old money. The judgemental stares from a generally elderly population, rejecting anyone who didn’t fit the mould of what they felt their suburb should be. This was meant to be one of the most exclusive postcodes. How could they let anyone who wasn’t meant to be in? Even the children had a sense of entitlement stemming from their parents achievements, or was it being doted on by their parents and their maid(s)? Either way, I decided I wouldn’t shop here again. I’d got to where I am from a lot of hard work, and a reasonable slice of luck. I knew it didn’t make me special, and it could stop at any time. All I wanted now though, was just to get the shopping done.

I peruse the aisles, quickly filling my trolley, saving the fruit and vegetables for last. Strawberries are in season, and even though they weren’t on my list they could be a nice little treat for this afternoon. Picking up a punnet of organic strawberries, which seem mostly ripe, I accidentally knock over another. It drops onto the floor, the lid still fastened to the container. Bending down to pick them up I hear a soft voice. “Let me help you with that.” I look up, and see an exquisite black dress which emphasises her perfect shape. It’s the girl from next door, wearing some light makeup and mascara. Up close she’s absolutely gorgeous. I pause for a second. She hands the strawberries to me, as I try and regain some composure.

“You’re the guy from next door” she says, not really asking a question. There’s another second of silence as she continues. “Most people don’t really mow their own lawns around here.” Her tone’s warm and curious, without a hint of judgement. It’s almost like she’s fascinated by the fact that I can manage a basic task without the help of some contractor. I smile back warmly at her, matching her demeanour. “I’d rather do it myself” I reply, not really sure how to elaborate on her previous statement. “That’s refreshing” she says, as she gives me a broader smile, her eyes sparkling too this time. “Have you moved recently?” she says, trying to keep the conversation going. I was comfortable before not really knowing my neighbours, but maybe this could be good. “Yeah, moved in yesterday. Starting to get the house together, and organised.” It’s banal chit chat, something I’m usually not interested in. But as I’m speaking, she does seem to move toward me, giving me her full attention, properly listening to every word I’m saying. “That’s good. It’s nice to have a neighbour that’s around and takes pride in their home. My partner’s away on business, like most people here, like the neighbours were before you. It feels like they’re missing out on a lot.” There’s an inviting familiarity there, even as we don’t speak, just looking at each other for a second. “I guess that is the benefit of working from home mostly.” Even as the words slip out, I realise how disinterested I must have sounded, my tone not matching how I was feeling. She looks at me slightly deflated, pausing for a second and just says “Well, it was nice to meet you.” Nodding slightly as she gives me a polite but forced smile. “You too” I say, my voice trailing off as she walks in past me.

The rest of my shopping passes by pretty normally. I don’t end up bumping into her again, just filling my three bags of shopping, and carrying them back to my house. As I open the door, I hear a car pull up in her driveway, a new black Mercedes. It’s probably an AMG, or CLK, or something like that, perfectly matching her dress. I walk in and meander towards the fridge. Unpacking takes a lot longer than it should, my mind wandering back to how she looked in that dress. I know she’s taken and don’t want to misbehave with her. She is my neighbour, and I do like this house a lot, but there’s nothing harmful about a couple thoughts.

Finishing up a light lunch, I’ve got a bunch of jobs to do this afternoon, but I’m too distracted to focus completely. Dating has become a different story now. It doesn’t take long for people to find out what I do, and where I want to go with my life. But the reality of dating someone like me is often worse than people initially think. Not only does everyone seem to want a relationship, once they find out I’m ‘marriage material’, but they are also perplexed as to why I don’t have enough time for them. In my odd bit of spare time every week or two, if I’m not too tired, or distracted by future plans, they seem to expect me to devote my full attention to them. Whilst I haven’t given up on finding someone I’d like to spend the rest of my life with, convenience and business often gets in the way of finding my future wife. So I turn to people who are willing to be there for me when I need them. There’s two people in particular who are open-minded enough to stop me from getting bored, and also very good listeners, catering to almost my every need and desire. It doesn’t hurt that they’re also gorgeous, and as it stands now, I don’t really mind giving them some financial support in return.

Sex workers can get a bad wrap, even though they provide a vital service. The nuances of being someone’s emotional comforter, safe space and/or physical partner, bringing parts of themselves to help another person feel better, are not always well understood. I call Madeline, and she greets me in a sultry tone. She says she’ll be over in an hour, but is surprised to hear I’ve moved from my apartment. Waiting passes frustratingly slowly, but I know she’s coming as soon as she can.

I open the door as she arrives. She’s a little more dressed up than usual, usually opting for something quite casual. But today, she looks like she’d be right at home here. I show her parts of the ground floor, and then we walk up the staircase to enter my room. She pauses for a second, taking in the view surrounding my property. Even she doesn’t see such things very often. I’m sure she can feel my eyes on her as she turns around. She doesn’t speak, but her eyes just ask me what I want today. She doesn’t ask me for extras up front anymore, just letting things take their natural course. I’ve missed not having her around for the last few weeks, and just want to get lost in her.

Up till now, I’ve hidden the tension and frustration with moving. But with her here, I can feel it bubbling to the surface. I’m sure she can feel me shift, as she looks up at me with a little trepidation. “Remember the safe word” she says unflinchingly. Stepping towards her, I nod making sure I’m still in some sort of control. “Of course” I reply. She feels great against my skin, and tastes even better with each kiss. It’s not long before I’m on top of her, allowing all I’m feeling to rush through me. She just meets me where I am, floating under me, moving at my will. Pinning her to my bed, I kiss down her body and mound, dragging her panties to the side and getting lost in her taste. She’s even sweeter than I remember, as I hold her hips, allowing my tongue to dance around her swollen clit. Usually she’ll hold on for a lot longer, but today she can’t. Within a minute or so, her hips buck and back arches as endorphins flood her and she gets her own release.

Clearly, she wants to return the favour, but I’m not ready to stop eating her out. She ends up sitting on my face, bending down to take my hard cock into her mouth. Our movements are in sync, as her lips move up and down my shaft. I can feel her wanting to push me too. She’ll be a little shy about me making her cum so quickly, and will want to have the same effect on me. Her slobber goes all over my dick, as I put one of my fingers in her pussy. She comes up for air, unable to keep going as she moans out and building toward her second crescendo. Just as I feel her about to reach another climax, my phone rings. It’s usually on do not disturb, so if someone’s getting through now it’s important. I keep going for a few more seconds, feeling her juices erupt all over me, her pussy convulsing in pleasure, as she moans out again. Moments after she’s finished, I lift her off of me, and stand up, knowing I need to take the call.

It’s one of the partners from the London office. Apparently she needs my input on something since her email just three minutes prior. I turn back to Madeline, and she gives me an understanding look, as I hastily walk out of the room to maintain confidentiality. In the brief two minute conversation, I realise I will need to be at the office immediately, and likely for most of tonight. As I walk back into my room, she’s already dressed, just touching up her hair. “This one’s on me” she says. “Consider it a bonus for being a long-term client,” I raise my eyebrows, “and for doing such a good job” she says unable to hold back a smile. “You might even say I beat you” I reply cheekily, as I see her face light up with the hint of competition. “Don’t push your luck, mister” she quips back. I just chuckle to myself, and pat her on the shoulder “Better luck next time.” She gives me a death stare, knowing that I have her. I walk her out the front, and wait for her lift to arrive.

Back inside, I jump in the shower. I’ll probably have massive blue balls later, but I’ll be able to use the tension to focus. It’s Sunday afternoon at this point, and although I’d love to finish the jobs I’d planned today, or even wear casual clothes, I know I’ll likely be on conference calls for most of this evening. Before moving, I dropped two of my suits off at my trusted dry cleaner. They weren’t really dirty, but I needed a backup incase moving damaged my other suits. They were fine in the end, but I couldn’t be too cautious with the things that meant so much to me. I grabbed out the next one on my rotation. A hand-stitched piece of sartorial elegance from a trip to London a few years ago. Usually the wait would be months, but one of the partner’s lost a bet to me and pulled some strings. It’s still one of my favourites, nothing quite fits like it.

On the way to the office, I realise I’m going to be inundated for the rest of the night, calling a couple of my associates in to help. Usually they’d sort out the nitty gritty, and I’d crosscheck their work, but today it required a more experienced hand. We work for hours, fixing the mistakes that could have cost us far more than just money. I wasn’t oblivious to the fact that there was a reason they’d called me, and used moments like this as leverage when I needed something down the line. I left them to burn the midnight oil, putting my ideas into a finalised presentation. I’d review it in the morning, but for now, I could go and get some rest. As soon as my head hits the pillow, my eyes are shut and I drift off into an easy slumber. Never mind that my alarm is set for 5:45am tomorrow.

I wake up feeling relatively refreshed, as I head out for a morning run. Getting back half an hour later, I run through the rest of my morning routine, and make it into the office by 7am. The day breezes by rather uneventfully, largely due to the fruit of my effort yesterday. Everything goes off without a hitch, and I’m able to leave the office at a sensible time, getting home after dusk. I’d been looking forward to cooking all day, and I’m delighted as I cut the onions and ginger, heating up the wok to make a stir fry. I try and eat a range of foods, keeping my diet varied so that each day is different. The flavours of South East Asia are some of my favourites, and this evening, and my mouth is practically watering as I’m making the stir fry on high heat. I plate up the meal, whilst it’s still sizzling hot.

Picking up my bowl, and walking to the dining table, I hear a knock at the door. I haven’t told anyone my address, so I don’t know who could be there at this time of day. Placing the bowl down, I walk to the front. I haven’t installed the security cameras yet, so I have to just open the door and see who it is. It’s her. The woman from next door. She’s wearing a light yellow dress, seemingly more casual than the last time I saw her.

She looks up at me, eagerly in anticipation. “Hey, I got this.” Her arm outstretches and she shows me the mail in her hand. “This was incorrectly sent to us” she says. Still swept up in the smell of the stir fry, my stomach growls slightly and then I reply. “That’s not mine” I say, perhaps slightly too harshly. She isn’t deflated or taken back this time. “I realise I never got your name” she said. “I thought this might be yours, since you just moved here.” I put on a forced smile, relatively tired and frankly looking forward to just having some dinner. “No it’s not, but thank you for trying to be helpful. I’m just about to have dinner” I say. As gorgeous as she is I really do just want some time to myself. She looks at me excitedly, “I haven’t had any either, it smells delicious!” I’ve tried all I can to not let her in, but at this point it seems easier to just sit and eat with her. “You’re welcome to join” I say, as I realise that I find her quite annoying. Weirdly, it makes me want her more, but I can’t explain why. “Great, I can grab some wine” she says as she walks into my house, almost brushing past me. I don’t know what I’m getting into. “I’ve got some here, you a fan of red?” I say as nonchalantly as I can. She perks up, seemingly excited that I’m so positive, “Of course.”

After we sit down, and clink wine glasses, there’s a lingering silence with none of us coming up with anything to talk about, until she takes the lead. “The food’s great” she says politely. I’m still swallowing a mouthful and take a second to reply, “Glad you’re enjoying it.” She smiles at me curiously, “where’d you learn to cook like this?” Lifting up another mouthful, I take my time to enjoy it before replying. “It’s just something I love. Taught myself after lots of travelling.” She has that warmth to her again as she replies “that’s amazing. Is there anything you can’t do?” I smile and look down, it’s always been hard for me to take compliments. She capitalises on the silence, “I guess you’re good at *everything*” she says a bit quieter this time, blushing as she can’t hold my eye contact. A couple of seconds pass, and I realise that what she may mean, but want to push her further. “What do you mean?” I ask, trying to play naive. She hesitates for a second, still blushing slightly, “Well, it just seems like you’re a man of many talents.” She moves her hand onto my forearm in tandem with her words. I let the tension just sit in the air, as I feel her almost squirm in her seat. She probably expected something to happen, but I’m having too much fun watching her reaction. “I guess I am” I reply nonchalantly, as her hand moves back down my arm, and she makes eye contact and looks down quickly. Her confident exterior, melting to show a shy interior. “I just…I saw” she says, trying to find the right words, “do you live here all by yourself?” I pause taking in what she said. The previous day flashes by in my mind, and I wander if she knows more than she’s letting on. “Yeah, I do” I reply, trying not to justify being single. “Oh, ok” she says. “I don’t mean to pry, this is quite a big place for one person.” I smile to myself, about to reply, and my phone rings. It’s work. I walk into the hallway, and into one of the downstairs rooms, ensuring I’m out of earshot. Things have gone pear-shaped, again, and I’m needed at the office.

I head back into the dining room, and she puts her cutlery down. She thanks me for such a delicious dinner and says she doesn’t want to be a burden, as she realises I’ll probably need to go into work. Maybe I wasn’t as out of earshot as I thought. She hurries out the door, not wanting to waste my time. I realise she’s probably embarrassed, and might have been making a pass at me, but I didn’t have enough time to see what happened. As I sit and reflect for a second, I exhale to relax. Maybe I missed an opportunity, maybe I didn’t. I just don’t want to mess anything up as I’m settling into my new place. Heading back into the kitchen to wash up the bowls, cutlery and wok, trying to just think about what I’m going to about the work situation.

I walk up to my bedroom, and pick up my laptop. Without thinking, I reflexively look down into the neighbour’s room. When I look down, she enters the room still in her yellow dress. She walks slowly over to a the bedroom closet, and pulls out a little black box hidden away in the bottom. Moving the box onto the bed, she lifts off the lid, picking up a large dildo. It’s way bigger than her hand, and gets thicker towards the end until the circular base. At this point I realise I’m staring at her picking up her wall mountable dildo. Their bed frame isn’t too high, and she kneels onto the mattress, and sticks the dildo onto the wall, pressing hard to ensure it’s firmly secured. The dildo flops down, barely holding its weight. She puts her arms onto the bed, perched on all fours, as her back arches and ass lifts up. Even in her yellow dress, it’s easy to see her curves against the fabric.

Her lips touch the dildo, parting as she lets its girth naturally stretch them. Closing her eyes, she moves her lips up the tip of the dildo, and then slowly moves her mouth back, letting the dildo fall to its natural position. Her hand holds the base of it, as she pushes her lips against it again. My cock is already rock hard, but I use all my self control to not touch myself as she starts sucking it again. I know I’m reaching a point of no return and have to look away to ensure I get into work in a timely manner. As I turn away, it’s hard for me not to wander if she knows I can see her. Was she asking if I lived alone before, because she didn’t see anyone move in with me, or because she saw something more. Does she know if I can see into her bedroom, and can she see back up into mine? I have to push those thoughts to the back of my mind, as I put my suit on again and head in for another late night at the office.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————–

New series, focusing more on backstory. Let me know if you like it and want another part :)

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/mqib4z/the_woman_next_door_cheating_slow_build_mf