Intimate Union Between Neighbours

by Edward Adams

  "Yes Sir," I replied, "I love it." Then he started to spank me, hard, and harder, still probing my ass with his cock, his strong hands slapping my smooth ass, making it red, adding to the pleasure. Now he fucked faster, he was on the balls of his feet, and fucking me as fast as he could, moving in and out, pounding, thrusting, and fucking me harder! I heard him moan loud, and he started ramming it in me, pushing me forward with his cock.

  "Fuck I'm gonna cum." he screamed, and he took it out of me, and put it in front of my face, and blew his huge load all over me. I tried to get as much in my mouth as I could but I could barely see, then he shoved it in my mouth and told me to milk him. I gladly took his black cock in my mouth, and sucked all the cum out of him. It was so good. He took his cock out of my mouth and reached on the counter and got his Polaroid. He took a picture of my face covered in cum, and said "That's a keeper." I got up and wiped the cum off my face and ate it. I saw him put my picture into the photo album next to some other white boy's picture. The photo album was full of pictures of white boys with cum all over their faces.

  "Did you fuck all of them?" I asked. He just laughed and nodded.

  "Well you should probably leave now." he said.

  "But what about my 20 bucks for mowing your lawn." I asked.

  "What did I say white boy."

  "Yes Sir" I said, and I left. I walked out his door and didn't feel bad about not getting 20 bucks, at least I got the best fuck of my life.

  Caught by Neighbor

  It was a beautiful warm day, and I had it to myself. My wife Sam was interstate on business for the week, and not due back for another five days. For me that meant housework to be done, but plenty of time to enjoy my own space, and entertain one particular hobby. I smiled to myself, and not for the first time, I stopped in front of a mirror and pulled my tracksuit pants down, admiring the bright pink, silky panties that I'd been walking around in all day.

  I'd been cross-dressing for many years before I met Sam, but it really wasn't her thing. So I tended to keep it to myself, waiting for the chance to be alone now and then, dressing in all sorts of tight and skimpy lingeries, and sometimes indulging in fingering my ass, or using something bigger with the help of a little lubricant. I'm a happily straight, married man, but I just liked the sensation of feeling like a woman, and the feeling of being fucked like a woman. Some of my best orgasms came when Sam was away, when I could roll about on the floor in silky, lacy clothes, and give my lubed-up asshole a solid object to slide onto.

  I had to sort out the washing today, and I stepped outside around midday to hang out a load. It was the usual mess of towels, sheets, underwear and so forth - always more than I'd planned on, and it always took me a while to hang out. It was hot, but there was a nice breeze blowing, even though our back yard was pretty sheltered. The fences were all fairly high, and there wasn't any obvious points where neighbours could see in. I wished that I could get Sam a bit more comfortable with the idea of taking our lovemaking out there, but she felt like a neighbour might poke their head over the fence. Part of me got a little thrill about that - I imagined being underneath her, and seeing a neighbour's head come into view. I would lie there and fuck her, not saying a word, while perhaps the neighbour would be stroking himself too - or herself!

  At this point I began to feel particularly turned on, and I tugged the back of my tracksuit pants down to bare my pink panties to the world. The feeling of the cool breeze blowing against my silky ass caused my cock to press harder against the front of the panties, and with a sense of thrill, I pulled my tracksuit completely down, and stepped out of it. I glanced around nervously, then continued to peg the clothes, feeling a nervous tingling and an urgent need to relieve myself of the pressure. For a few minutes, I worked up and down the line barefoot, and then bent down to pick up the empty washing basket.

  At that exact awkward moment, with me bent over presenting my panties to the air, a voice said "Hey John... oh!", and I span around in shock. Right behind me, looking over the fence, was my neighbour Gary.

  I didn't know Gary at all, beyond exhanging the odd hello. He had moved in a few months before, and although our back fence was shared, it was high enough that you had to stand on something to see over. He seemed a solitary sort of person, and I'd made little effort to invite him round. This wasn't exactly a great way to commence the process!

  I went bright red - I could literally feel my face heating up - and I quickly thrust the washing basket in front of my groin to try to hide the view. He stared at me with his mouth open, as I scrabbled for my tracksuit pants and backed hurriedly inside. I banged the door shut and stood against the wall, my heart thumping in panic. What on earth could I say - I'd simply have to avoid ever talking to him again! Any sense of eroticism had certainly gone out of the moment for me, and I went quietly to my room and tucked the panties away again, all the time feeling a vague nervousness as if someone was watching me. After a little while I snuck carefully to the window to check, but he'd gone away. I didn't collect the washing until it was dark, sneaking carefully out and making as little sound as I could.

  I went to bed that night hoping to wake up and find it had all been a nightmare, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. My nightmare was just about to begin.

  - 2 -

  The next afternoon, as I was washing dishes, the doorbell rang. My heart stopped, as I wasn't expecting anyone. I checked the monitor, and sure enough, it was Gary. I didn't know what to do - it was obvious I was home, given the car was there and the windows open - but I didn't think that I could face a conversation with him. I stood there indecisive, and the doorbell rang again. His face in the monitor seemed neutral to me - perhaps he'd come to apologise for peering over the fence? I couldn't just hide there in the kitchen, so I swallowed hard, and walked down to open the door.

  "Hi", I said, giving a weak smile, but unsure what to say.

  "Oh hey John, I'm Gary - your neighbour from over the back?"

  "Yeah I know," I said, and then after an awkward pause, "uh - come on in".

  I held open the door and he came in. I hadn't really noticed in the past, but he was quite tall and well-built, and very swarthy. There was a certain no-nonsense look about the guy, and any vague thoughts I'd had overnight about intimidating him into silence over the incident quickly faded. Besides, he seemed very friendly.

  "Would you like a beer?" I said. "I was just going to watch the football."

  "Sure, if you don't mind" he said.

  I fetched a couple of beers, and we sat down in the lounge with the television on. As we made small talk about the game, I wondered if this was his way of breaking the ice; letting me know there wasn't a problem and he was comfortable with what had happened. So I was a bit shocked when the conversation suddenly took a different turn.

  "John you live here with your wife Sam, don't you?" he said. "Sorry, is that her name...?"

  "Yeah that's right - Sam. It's err, short for Samantha."

  "She's not around at the moment?"

  "Err... no, she's on a business trip."

  "Oh OK, sure. And does Sam... I'm not sure how you put this, does she know that you do the washing in her underwear?"

  I literally choked in the middle of taking a swig of beer, and tried to disguise it as a coughing fit. Gary simply looked at me calmly, as if he'd asked me what time I liked to have dinner. I grabbed a napkin and wiped beer off my chin and the bottle, trying to figure out what to say.

  "Heh, yeah I didn't think so. It's kind of secret stuff, right?". He seemed understanding, and it suddenly occurred to me that maybe what I'd stumbled across was another cross-dresser. It seemed a good idea to draw this out.

  "Yes, that's right. You know how it is, right - there's some stuff that you don't exactly want to, you know, advertise. So - well, look, I'm sure she'd be find with it. It's just that...". I trailed off, as an odd look had come over his face.

  "Yeah I thought so - you wouldn't want to advertise it to her. Or for anyone else to do t
hat. I mean, just say someone was to mention it to her by accident?". He was staring at me in a pretty frightening way, and I suddenly had a horrible sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew just what was going on here, and I was suddenly terrified. Of course I didn't tell my bloody wife that I liked to walk around our back garden in her panties; she'd walk out in an instant. My life with Sam was a great one, don't get me wrong, but her taste in sex was pretty simple - basic missionary, the odd bit of fooling around, men are men, women are women, and there's only one hole that is appropriate for putting things in. If Gary was here to blackmail me, he'd gone right for the jugular, and I was in a really awkward spot.

  "What are you saying, Gary?" I said, trying to sound confident, but already feeling a quaver creeping into my voice.

  "Just this," he said, leaning forward, "I looked over the back fence yesterday to say hello, and I saw you bending over next to your washing line with a pair of bright pink panties on. And I'd say that means you're a fag of some kind, and that your wife doesn't know. Now I reckon you'd like to keep that little secret a secret, am I right?"

  I stared at him, gripping my beer bottle. I couldn't think of anything to say."

  "Am I right?" he repeated.

  "Y-yes" I said.

  "Good", he said. "So we can probably cut to the chase here a little bit. There are some things that I'm going to get you to do, and you're going to be pretty happy to do them - at least that's what I think. Because if you don't, then I'm going to haVe that conversation with your hot little wife Sam, and I'd say that might be the end of your happy marriage."

  I thought about that, and the voice in my head said he was probably right. How on earth had I got myself into this situation? It was a disaster. The whole thing brought on by a stupid decision to put my secret habit on display. Why couldn't I have simply watched some porn and masturbated and then chosen to go outside for the housework. And now I was being blackmailed and threatened by this guy, with nothing I could do about it.

  "What do you want?" I said.

  He smiled. "Pretty simple - I didn't get much of a look at your underwear when you ran off inside yesterday. So go and put it on. Do you have a whole set of stuff somewhere?"

  I nodded reluctantly.

  "OK - so I'm going to finish my beer, and you can go and get changed. You've got about 5 minutes."

  "Is that, err... that's all, right?" I said.

  He ignored me, and after a moment, I went out of the room and down to the bedroom. What an awkward situation. It was hard to read what he was up to - I'd expected a demand for money, or anything, and now he wanted me to cross-dress in front of him? And yet he didn't seem to want it for a sexual purpose; at least not as far as I could tell. What would I know - the last thing I was interested in was another guy's turn-ons. I hoped like hell he didn't want to get into some sort of sex game. I stood there in my bedroom, with all of these thoughts flashing through my head. In the end, I just figured maybe he wanted to embarrass me. Well, what the fuck. I took off my shoes, jeans and t-shirt, and took the pink panties and bra out of their box. I carefully hooked the bra together then wriggled my arms into it, then pulled on the panties. To my embarrassment, my cock had gone rock-hard as usual, and I desperately tried to shove it down between my legs to hide this. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was turned on by dressing up in front of him.

  "That's it?" said Gary from right behind me, making me jump in shock. He'd walked silently into the room while I was dressing.

  "What?"

  "I know that's not the whole of it," he said. "I asked if you had a whole set."

  "What do you mean?" I said, knowing exactly what he meant.

  "John, don't fuck with me, OK. If you're going to lie and muck around, it's very simple. I will tell your wife. So stop thinking I'm an idiot. I'm saying I reckon you've got other clothes in here that you like to dress up in - shoes, stockings, whatever. Put it all on, so you're dressed up like a woman, how you would if I wasn't here. Do you get that?"

  "Yes," I started to say, then to my shock he slapped me violently across the cheek, making me stumble. My hand flew to my face and tears sprung up.

  "What the hell?!" I squeaked.

  "Do you get that?" he said again calmly. "Because I'm not a guy you want to fuck around. So get on with it, or you'll really get what's coming."

  I was terrified by now. This tall, strong man was standing over me, while I cowered in front of him wearing a pink bra and panties, and I could see there was a genuine threat of v******e in his eyes. I had no choice at all. I quickly went to the cupboard and picked out the rest of my set of clothes - a garter belt and thigh-high stockings, and a pair of high heels, all carefully hidden underneath other things, until now. I nervously put it all on, while Gary stood with arms folded, watching.

  "That's... that's it", I said. I was mortified to see that my hard-on hadn't gone away, and while I'd been dressing, it had worked its way out again, bulging lewdly out the front of my panties.

  "That's better," he said. "Now come over to my place."

  "What?!" I said.

  "Come on over. I don't care how you get there, but I'll see you in five. OK?"

  I took it that the "OK" was rhetorical. I simply nodded, and with that, he walked out.

  - 3 -

  After a little bit of thinking, I pulled some clothes over the top of my lingerie, put the high heels in a bag, and then walked around to Gary's house and rang the doorbell.

  He opened the door. "Come on in," he said casually, as if nothing had happened. "And get that stuff off. Go in the main room."

  I went into his living room, and took off my pants and sweatshirt again. I put the high heels back on, and stood there. I could see myself in a mirror, and felt an awful combination of being completely terrified at the situation, and rather turned on to be dressed up in a slutty set of women's underwear, with my ass jutting out, and another man about to walk in and look at me. I pressed one hand down on my groin, trying to calm down my raging hard-on again.

  Gary came in, and stood there looking at me. To my distress, he was holding a camera now. "I'm going to get you to do some modelling, and I reckon you can figure out the right moves," he said. "Just basically look like a slut, and I'll do the pictures."

  "I don't want that," I said, and then cowered when he took a threatening step towards me. I could see what might happen.

  "OK, sorry, sorry," I said. "I'll do what you say."

  I shut my eyes and tried to imagine he wasn't there. First, I spread my legs apart - wider than they needed to be, with the added lift of the heels making me feel stretched and open. Then I cupped both hands to my "tits", lifting the bra cups up as if lifting my breasts for display. Then I started to move around, stretching and turning, presenting my ass, pouting my mouth, and so on. Gary quietly took photos, and I knew that my life as I knew it was coming to an end here in this stranger's front room.

  After a few minutes he had me stop, and then came what I'd really been dreading.

  "Go down the corridoor," he said, "and go into the bedroom."

  My eyes probably bulged, and I felt that I couldn't breathe. But I found myself tottering towards that room, in a complete daze. Gary followed me, and shut the door behind us.

  "I liked your posing," he said. "You looked like...". There was a pause, as he kicked off both his shoes and bent down to take off his socks. "Like... I guess like a bitch," he went on. "Do you feel like a bitch?"

  I stared at him, watching him pull off the shirt he was wearing. Underneath, he was muscular and had a thick hatch of chest hair. His stomach was flat, and I couldn't stop looking as his hands went to his belt buckle.

  "Do you feel like a bitch, John?" he said.

  It was as if I was floating above the scene, all of a sudden. I tried to swallow, my mouth extremely dry. I stared at his muscular torso, and at his hands as they began to unbuckle his belt.

  "Yes Gary," I croaked. "I uh.. I feel like a fucking bitch. Are you getting your cock
out?"

  My head throbbed with rushing blood as I mouthed this shocking invitation, and even as I spoke, I had sunk down on my knees. My cock was raging against my panties. John undid his belt and jeans, and took out his penis. It was shockingly large and vulgar, and I fixated on it, noting in extreme detail the way it thrust out, slightly upwards, circumcised, with his hairy balls tucked tightly underneath. On the tip of it, a bead of liquid had formed. I stared at the liquid - his cum - another man's cum, and I knew that I wanted to lick it up.

  "You are a bitch, John," he said. And I'm going to fuck your face with this cock. Now, come here, and suck it into your mouth - and don't even think about stopping until you've finished drinking me, do you understand?"

  I shuffled forwards on my knees. I wanted to take his cock into my mouth, and be dominated and used by him. I had no idea what it meant for my previously sane, happy life, but I really just didn't feel like I cared. Gary stepped out of his jeans, leaving him standing there, naked, hands on hips, and waiting for me to service him. I reached up with my right hand, and wrapped it around the base of his cock. It was shockingly hot, and I could feel it gently throb in response. My other hand crept round behind him, and grasped one cheek of his ass. His ass felt hard in my hand, strong, and manly. I pulled his groin forward and into my wide open mouth.