The Guy Next Door

It feels so comforting and familiar to be back in our family home after so many years working and studying abroad. Memories and sudden flashbacks are being triggered almost non-stop now that I’m back. Every scratch on the kitchen table, every old utensil, every faded curtain, all take me back to specific moments in this room that were once lived and forever loved.

On our fridge door, I notice the familiar collection of photos that have managed to stay in position for years and years. I see a photo of my younger self playing piano; a cute pic of me with my first girlfriend, Debbie. an action shot of my brother playing football with Carl Jones, the neighbor; and an extended family photo taken out in the backyard with Carl and his family. The next-door neighbors have always felt like they were part of our family. Carl was also my first ever real crush.

I became a little obsessed with him, I think. Who could blame me? He is tremendously good-looking. Besides, a young woman needs to find an outlet for her sexual energy somewhere. When I needed to blow off some steam, Carl became my subject of desire. As I look around the kitchen, I’m suddenly reminded of some of the more…explicit experiences I’ve had in this room. My vision is now clearly affected by the soft sheen of arousal…I notice the kitchen table, where I once kissed the pussy of the woman who came to tune our piano. The potato peeler, that I once used to smooth the rough skin of a carrot so I could masturbate with it; the faded curtains, through which I spied on Carl, as he worked out in his backyard. Hmmm. Carl...

I start to get really quite horny as I engage with all of these flashbacks. Carl seems to be at the forefront of them all. Every thought about him amplifies my bubbling insides in a new way. All my obsessive feelings for Carl, with his fit, athletic body, training hard in the next door yard, are flooding my body. I see flickers of his face, his warm brown eyes, his large velvet lips, his football strong arms, his giant, sincere smile. His beautiful face has a home deep in my subconscious. The image that comes to mind, more vividly than any other, is the look in his eyes as he peers up at me from behind my gaping vulva. I lean into the back of the chair in this kitchen of my family home, with no one else around, and let the scene unfold again in my mind. It was a seriously sensual experience. I can see it all as clear as yesterday.

There I am, in the backyard of this house, Alone, having a quiet cup of tea. I’m unwinding, laying back in a deck chair, in my nightie, looking up at the stars, feeling sleepy under the fresh early evening sky, and getting ready to have an early night. From outside, I can hear the chatter of my entire family, as they finish up the feast indoors. It’s kind of warm for this time of year, but there is still a cool bite in the air that I’m quite enjoying. I place my hands behind my head and lean right back in the deck chair. My long body is outstretched. I can see the trees slowly swaying in the breeze. I can see the stars taking position in the sky. I can also hear the sound of a person walking down the fence line in the next-door neighbor’s yard.

Moments later, I hear a knock on the neighbor’s fence. In the light from the house, I see Carl’s big smile grinning down at me over the gate.

“Hey, Jane. I was hoping I'd find you out here.”

“Oh, hi Carl.”

I feel the skin over my entire body tighten up underneath my nightie as soon as I sense his gaze, tracing my shapes.

“I heard you playing that beautiful piece on the piano earlier.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s right, you love that piece.”

“You bet I do, Jane. You play it so well.”

“You know you’re the only person who calls me, Jane. Right? Everyone else calls me Janie.”

“Then that gives me a unique point of difference, I guess. Hey, I smelled lot’s of amazing things coming from your kitchen today. Is your Dad still making that delicious Turkey? Man, that has to be one of the best roast birds I’ve ever eaten. To this very day, I’m yet to taste a thanksgiving turkey that is as moist and tender. The man certainly knows his way around an oven.”

I’m very excited to see Carl’s beautiful eyes perched there. Even though I’m wearing a regular nightie, I feel exposed in a thrilling way. He is casually examining me as we chat, and all I can think about is the fact that there is only a single layer of thin fabric separating my long naked body and his warm naked eyes. From underneath the material, my nipples firm up even more. They enjoy being on display. And who am I to deny them the spotlight? It’s the attention that they rarely get to bask in.

“From next door, it smelled like your kitchen was working hard.”

I refuse to cover myself. My hands remain fixed behind my head. My breasts sit in full view, round and defiant. I’m waiting for self-conscious thoughts to emerge, but only goosebumps on my skin surface. Carl is drinking in the sight of me, and I am loving his attention at this moment.

“I have something here for you, Jane.”

Carl opens the gate and walks over to me in the chair.

“I got inspired today and made this pumpkin pie. Saved this last piece for you.”

He’s holding a plate of pie which I have trouble seeing properly from my reclined position.

“Oh, how sweet, Carl. Let me see it.”

Carl has maintained a respectful distance, but it is going to be impossible for him to pass me a plate of pie without coming into my personal space a little. He kneels down to my level near the foot of the deck chair and holds out the plate for me to see. There’s an air of flirtatiousness in what he says next…

“I’d love you to try it. Let me know your expert thoughts. I need you to tell me if it’s…sweet enough. ”

Throughout the years, Carl and I have often bonded over our love of cooking. He’s been our guest for dinner more times than I could possibly remember. He knows I’m a total badass in the kitchen. I examine the plate in his outstretched hand and notice his eyes are looking beyond the pie.

“I can’t really see it with you kneeling all the way down there, Carl.”

I’m laying the groundwork to get him to move closer into my personal space. He smirks at me and moves in closer, still kneeling. I don’t take the plate. I can tell he’s trying desperately hard not to look directly at my pussy. But I know he sees it. My nightie hugs the shapes of my body revealing every ridge, curve, and mound. I begin to smell my own desire.

“That isn’t maple whipped cream on the top of that pie is it?”

I smirk.

“Yes ma’am. Indeed it is. Your expertise never ceases to amaze me. ”

His confidence in me as a cook is fueling a confidence that I’ve never felt in myself as a subject of desire. At least, not around Carl. A beautifully long silence emerges as we both enjoy the sexual tension and chemistry unfolding between us. After so many years of trying to manufacture a moment of sensuality and intimacy between us, I am now faced with the fantasy I so dreamt of. But this moment of longing and desire we both share right now is much more arousing than I could ever have imagined. My entire family is in the house a few yards behind the back of this deck chair I sit in. Carl is kneeling beside me. He still clutches the small plate of homemade pumpkin pie with maple whipped cream. Carl is more than a neighbor. He’s a family friend.

This moment couldn’t possibly be filled with more tension and suspense. It’s perfect. Finally, I release my hands from behind my head. It looks like I’m about to take the plate from Carl. But I don’t. Instead, I pinch the sides of my nighty with my fingers.

“Carl,”

I say softly.

“I’ve got something that I’d love you to try.”

I very slowly start to pull the nighty up my sides so that the hem brushes up my thighs and over my pussy.

“Let me know your expert thoughts.”

The nighty continues to rise up my body, exposing a very naked and vulnerable me. I feel cold air in the moisture building between my legs. Carl places the plate on the ground…but remains still…silent…almost shocked. Almost. If this is going to happen here, like this, then he will have to meet me on the other side of this forbidden line. I slowly bring my knees out to the side and expose myself fully to him. This should make his impulses harder to resist. I see him swallow, but his eyes never leave the gift I am giving him.

“I need you to tell me if it’s sweet enough.”

He then looks me straight in the eyes.

“So, you want me to...”

“Yes, Carl. I want you to taste my pussy.”

My whisper is the invitation that tips him over the edge. Carl lowers his head teasingly to my body. The tension in this exchange has filled me with such electricity that when he starts to kiss my inner thighs with his luscious lips, I feel surges of pleasure shoot right through my core. His warm breath on my tender cold skin is excruciatingly enjoyable.

Each tiny nibble of his mouth brings him closer and closer to my throbbing sex. He kisses gently and licks slowly all the way up my thighs, crossing over from leg to leg in perfect rhythm. Just as one side of me starts to feel jealous of the other, he returns his focus to where it is needed the most. Left to right, his head dances over and over my open pussy as he edges closer and closer to being able to taste me. I hear myself groaning faintly under his tickling breath. All I can utter is his name...

“Carl...”

Once he is at the top of my legs he dances his tongue around my swollen outer lips. I fight the urge to grab him by the back of the neck and force his mouth into my hole. I’m already so aroused that I want to rub my wetness all over his face and feel those velvet lips of his press firmly on my clit. But this suspense, this lightness, has a charm and a power that I’ve never experienced. It’s a kind of torture of restraint that has my clit burning to feel contact. I rip my nighty up to my neck and reveal my breasts. They are tight from the cool evening air. My nipples are about to burst.

“I need you to play with my breasts,”

I say this far too loudly for the context that we are in, but my lust for him doesn’t care.

Carl stops kissing around my pussy suddenly and looks beyond the chair toward the house full of family members.

“Carl, please play with my breasts...”

My words beg him to return to my writhing naked body.

He supports himself on the deck chair with his hands and lowers his mouth to the skin between my breasts. I feel his stubble as he licks my tits with long lashings. Every stroke creates a wake of cold air that balances the heat I feel building in my core. Just as I’m about to order him to attend to my nipples, he supports his entire weight with just one strong arm and gently squeezes one of my breasts with his other large hand so that my nipple stands as firm and taught as it could possibly be. He licks around the circumference of my areola several times, then skillfully flicks his tongue repeatedly over my hungry nipple. I groan in ecstasy.

“Now the other,”

I mutter.

“Now the other…?”

“Now the other breast. She is jealous, Carl. ”

“Oh, she is jealous is she?”

“Help her. She needs your mouth too. ”

Carl repeats the moves on my other side and I absolutely lose my mind. I love it when my breasts get the attention they deserve. While Carl flicks, sucks, licks, and nibbles on my nipples with his large lips and tongue, my hands find their way down to my pussy where I stroke my clit in just the right way. There is something delightful about the feeling of deep familiarity that is my own hand touching my clit, while the novelty of a large, gorgeous man devours my nipples in a way that I never could myself. My hips buck underneath Carl’s body as I finger myself and smudge my clit with the flat of my hand at the same time. I feel cold air all over my pussy as I spread my natural lubricant every-which-way. I want to feel him inside me so badly, to fill me to the brim with his smooth cock, to fuck me with all his skill and might. But I don’t want this as badly as I want to feel his glorious lips wrapped tightly around my entire vulva. I grab Carl’s head with both hands and push him down to my entrance. His face hovers there for a moment, and I see his gorgeous brown eyes look up at me. They look deep within me.

I try to say this as calmly as possible underneath my elevated breathing...

“Carl, I need you to fuck me with your mouth. I need to feel your lips pushing into my clit. I need to feel your tongue inside me.”

He pauses for the briefest of moments…and the image of him looking up at me from behind my swollen mounds burns itself into my subconscious for all eternity. With one, slow, long stroke of his flat tongue, Carl manages to lick all the wetness coating my pussy into his mouth.

“Mmm, yes. Definitely sweet enough.”

He flashes me his big grin then buries himself into each shape and fold of my vagina with such skill and care that I have no words to describe what I feel.

His rhythm, pressure, variety and generally perceptive pussy-eating technique drive me to immense pleasure. I moan in ecstasy as he takes me to a place that no man has ever been able to take me back to…