I felt a warm hand touch me on the shoulder and I jumped. I looked up, startled, and saw it was Mr. Richards standing above me, concern etched on his face.
“Megan,” he said, taking a seat beside me, “What's wrong?”
Without thinking, I threw myself into his arms, burying my face into the crook of his neck, my tears soaking the collar of his shirt. My hands clutched at the front of his shirt as he wrapped his arms around me, drawing me closer to him. I knew it was inappropriate, but I took comfort in being in Mr. Richards's warm arms. He slowly stroked my back and said nothing as I cried.
Eventually, my sobs started to slow until I was just leaning in his arms, breathing quietly as Mr. Richards continued to rub my back. He smelled like cologne and tobacco, and I snuggled into him deeper, vaguely aware that I used to dream of being in his arms just like this.
Mr. Richards broke the silence. “Tell me what's wrong, Megan.”
I sighed, too embarrassed to tell him the truth. “I locked myself out of the house.”
“Okay,” he said, one hand wrapped around my shoulders, the other planted firmly on the small of my back. “Would you like to wait inside my house until someone comes home?”
I nodded into his neck, but I didn't make any effort to move.
“Megan,” he whispered into my hair, “You have to let go if you want to wait inside.”
I reluctantly moved away from him, but couldn't look him in the face as I got up and walked over to the back of his house. My face was hot with embarrassment over my breakdown. Mr. Richards walked up behind me and reached around me to open the door.
“Um,” he said nervously, “You can take a seat on the couch and I'll get you something to drink.”
“Okay,” I whispered, walking inside and headed straight to the couch.
I sat down and stared at my hands folded in my lap. I've been inside Mr. Richards's house plenty of times, but for some reason, sitting in his living room now made me nervous. This was the first time he ever saw me cry. He never saw me cry, even as a little girl.
Mr. Richards walked into the living room holding a glass of water that he presented to me.
“Here you go,” he said, “Drink this.”
“Thank you,” I said, accepting the glass. I placed the glass to my lips and drank the entire glass, the cool liquid feeling good going down my throat.
I handed the glass back to Mr. Richards and he sat down next to me, placing the empty glass on the coffee table in front of the couch.
“So,” Mr. Richards began, looking at me with piercing brown eyes, “What’s really wrong? I know it's not because you locked yourself out of your house.”
“It is,” I said softly, “My keys are in my purse and I left it at Bob's house...”
“Mmm,” he said, nodding, “And why can't you go back to his house and get your purse?”
I turned away. “Because,” I said, feeling tears threatening to fill my eyes again, “He's too busy with the girl I found him with.”
Mr. Richards cursed and I turned to him, surprised. I had never heard him curse out loud in all the years I've known him. His eyes were closed and he held the bridge of his nose with his hand, a pained expression on his face.
“He's an idiot,” Mr. Richards mumbled.
I shook my head. “It's my fault,” I said, fresh tears spilling from my eyes.
He dropped his hand from his nose and turned to me, a disbelieving expression on his face. “How is this your fault?”
“I wouldn't...” I sniffled involuntarily. I took a deep breath, trying to gain control of myself, “I wouldn't sleep with him,” I shrugged, “So he found someone who would.”
“Jesus,” he said, before pulling me into his arms, hugging me tightly, “I'm so sorry.”
“I shouldn't have been such a baby about it. It's just sex.” I insisted, pushing myself away from him.
“Don't be ridiculous,” he said, frowning at me, “How old are you now?”
“Eighteen.”
His face contorted into a grimace. “There's no reason for you to be rushing into sex, especially if you're not ready.”
“I was going to,” I confessed.
His forehead furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“We got into a fight yesterday,” I explained, looking down at my hands and they twisted in my lap. “You know, about me not being ready. He got angry and walked out of the house. He wouldn't answer his phone or respond of any of my texts, so I got worried...” my voice trailed off.
“Go on,” Mr. Richards said, encouraging me to continue.
“I thought something happened to him, so when he finally replied, I was so happy,” my hands started to shake in my lap and Mr. Richards wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me next to him. I allowed my head to fall on his offered shoulder.
“I was so happy,” I continued, “Happy that he was safe and I didn't know what I would have done if something had happened...happened because of me. So, I thought I'd surprise him. Give him what he wanted, but when I got to his house and saw him with her...” I shook my head, trying to get the image out of my mind. “I'm such an idiot.”
“No, you're not.”
“But I am,” I insisted, moving away from his shoulder. “I'm so stupid. I can't believe I was almost going to...” Tears slid from my eyes again.
“Listen to me,” Mr. Richards said, cupping my face in his hands. His eyes were warm and full of compassion. “You are not stupid and you are not an idiot. None of this is your fault. It's Bob's fault. He should have respected your wish to wait. He's the idiot for letting such a kind and compassionate woman like you go.”
He leaned down and kissed each side of my face, as if he was trying to kiss my tears away. As he continued to rain kisses all over my face, my forbidden thoughts about him came creeping back into my mind. My eyes fluttered closed and I leaned into him, enjoying the feel of his lips against my skin, feathery soft. The nipples under my dress hardened and my slit moistened and throbbed with need. His fingers caressed the line of my jaw, causing a moan to slip out of my mouth.
His lips brushed mine almost hesitantly, as if waiting to gauge my reaction. When I didn't move away, he pressed them firmly against mine, his head tilting, deepening the kiss. My lips yielded to his, allowing him to gently suck on my lower lip. My hands moved to rest on his chest, sliding them up until they reached the back of his neck. I wrapped my arms around his neck, parting my lips to give him entry into my mouth. His tongue slipped inside, tasting me, taking all I had to give.
I always heard that kissing a man who smoked was like licking an ashtray, but kissing Mr. Richards was everything but. He tasted fresh and clean, with a hint of smokiness, which I found delicious. My hands worked their way into his thick black hair and I pressed my body against his, wanting to be as close to him as possible.
As if coming to his senses, Mr. Richards pulled himself away from me, causing me to release my hold on him. He held me at arm’s length, his hands grasping my shoulders. We stared at one another, both breathing hard. His eyes were full of desire and at the same time, uncertainty.
“I'm sorry,” he apologized, his breath shaky, “I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have...”
Something came over me, seeing his eye blazing with passion even as he tried to explain away what happened. He awoke something inside me that I thought I had gotten over long ago, but realized now was only suppressed. I realized that I wanted him. I wanted him more than I wanted anything in life.
I reach a hand behind his head; my fingers curling into his hair, and pushed his mouth back down to mine, kissing him hard. He groaned against my lips and I placed my other hand on his thigh, moving it up until it settled over the hardness behind his jeans.
He pulled back from me again and my grip in his hair tightened, determined to keep him from slipping away from me.
“We can't. Oh, God, I can't...”
“Why not? I want you,” I said, my voice heavy with need. Desperate to tas
te him, I dipped my head down, running my tongue along the muscle that connected his neck to his shoulders. I reveled in the shudder that ran through his body.
“I've always wanted you,” I murmured against his skin. My hand lightly squeezed his evident arousal. “I know you want me too.”
“I do,” he admitted, his voice thick with arousal. “I want you so bad, but I won't take advantage of you.”
I climbed onto his lap so that I was straddling him, my thighs at both sides of his hips. Looking directly into his eyes, I reached down and undid the bow to my wrap dress, letting it come undone. I slipped it off my shoulders, revealing my completely naked body to him.
Mr. Richards's lips parted, his eyes wide as he took in every inch, every curve of my body as if he was committing it all to memory.
“Oh, God,” he groaned.
“You're not taking advantage of me,” I whispered before covering his mouth with mine once more.
Our mouths moved against one another, tasting and exploring. Mr. Richards's hands moved slowly down my sides, this thumbs barely brushing over my hard nipples until they settled on my hips. He pushed his tongue into my mouth and I moaned, my fingers working at the buttons of his dress shirt, desperate to take it off of him.
As soon as I got the last button undone, I pushed the shirt off his shoulders. Mr. Richards removed his hands on my hips briefly, allowing me to take his shirt completely off. The moment his shirt was off, Mr. Richards grasped at my hips again and I gasped out loud as he shifted his weight so that I was now lying flat on my back on the couch and he was squarely in between my legs.
He stared down at me hungrily, his lust filled eyes sweeping over my body before bending his head down and capturing one of my nipples into his mouth. The wave of pleasure that passed through my body was indescribable. His hands firmly kneaded and massaged my breasts while licking and sucking at my nipples, his head moving back and forth between them. I moaned and arched my back off the couch, trying to get as much of my breasts into his mouth.
His mouth left my breasts and he trailed small light kisses down my ribcage and over my flat stomach, working his way down to my wet and more than ready pussy. My body began to shake in anticipation for what I hoped he was going to do to me. My legs parted easily for him and he wrapped his arms around my thighs and pulled me closer to him. I lay back on the couch anxious and impatient.
“Mr. Richards, please,” I pleaded, and he looked up at me and a wicked smile played at his lips, his eye sparkling.
He bent down and kissed the insides of my thigh, working his way to my pussy. I grabbed the couch pillow behind my head; my eyes squeezed shut and panting. I lifted my ass off the couch, urging his mouth to go to that one sweet spot.
Finally, his tongue slipped between the folds of my slit, dragging it upwards until it glided over my clit. My body tensed under him and I moaned deeply, pushing my mound firmly into his face. His tongue was so much better than my fingers or vibrators.
I moaned again as his tongue made another pass over my clit and then his tongue lapped at the juices pouring out of my pussy before delving inside. I gasped at feeling of his tongue deep inside me. A delicious shudder passed through my body and I wished his tongue was his cock plunging in and out of me as he fucked me thoroughly. His hands cupped the bottom of my ass as he thrust his tongue into me a few more times before replacing it with two of his fingers, curled up and stroking the insides of my walls. His tongue returned to my engorged clit, flicking his tongue against it across several times and I cried out as I came hard around his fingers.
My body thrashed on the couch, riding out the waves of orgasm that passed through my body. Mr. Richards continued to flick his tongue across my clit relentlessly, until it became too sensitive. My hands reached down and pushed at his head to signal him to stop. Reading my signal, he pulled back and gently lowered my ass back onto the couch, looking pleased with himself.
I laid there trying to catch my breath and slow my racing heart. I looked at Mr. Richards, utterly satisfied.
“I never knew,” I breathed, “I never knew it could be like this. That was amazing.”
“Yes, it was,” he agreed.
Without another word, he stood up and bent down to scoop me up into his arms. I cried out in surprise and wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face into his chest.
“Mr. Richards! What are you doing?”
He looked down at me. “You should start calling me George. As for what I am doing, I'm taking you to my bedroom to finish what we started. Is that okay with you?”
I nodded and let George carry me to his bedroom.
He laid me down on his bed and stepped back, his lustful eyes roaming across my naked, willing body. He reached down to unbutton his jeans, pulling down the zipper slowly. I pushed myself up and sat on the edge of his bed and watched in rapt attention as he slowly pushed his jeans down over his hips. I reached out a hand and ran my fingers over the prominent bulge through his boxer briefs. George sucked in his breath as I cupped him, feeling his hardness. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and tugged them down, freeing his cock. Wrapping my hand around the base, I slowly stroked him, and he moaned, running his hands through my hair. His hands pressed into the back of my head, urging me forward and I knew what he wanted.
Flickering my eyes up to him, I looked at him shyly. “I've never done this before, so you might need to give be some pointers.”
His eyes widened. “You've never?” he looked conflicted, “I know you said you weren't ready to go all the way, but I thought you would have at least...”
I felt him start to step back, but I grasped the base of his cock firmly, stopping him.
“I said I never did it before,” I said, bringing the tip of his cock to my lips, “Not that I didn't want to.”
His eyes locked with mine and I pushed the head of his cock past my lips into my warm and waiting mouth. He groaned, his hands tightening into my hair. His cock was huge, so I couldn't take him very far into my mouth. I only made it halfway down his shaft before I felt it hit the back of my throat. I was afraid I would start to gag if I tried to take him any deeper, so I tightened my mouth around him and slowly pulled back until just the head was in between my lips.
“Megan,” he said breathlessly, “You're doing great. This feeling wonderful.”
I took it as confirmation I wasn't doing as bad as I thought I would, so I started to move my head up and down his shaft, focusing mostly on the head. Precum dripped out of tip of his cock and I licked the head clean. I moaned onto his cock as I savored the salty and slightly bitter flavor of him in my mouth.
My eyes looked up at George through my thick lashes and his face was full of bliss. His hands tightened into my hair even more as he rocked his hips gently forward, meeting the rhythm of my mouth. One hand cupped his balls and the other stroked the length I couldn't reach and I bobbed my head up and down his cock.
“Oh, Megan,” George groaned, his voice strained, “You have to stop.”
I pulled back, his hard cock slipping out of my mouth with a pop.
“What's wrong,” I asked him concerned, “Did I hurt you?”
“No, not at all,” he said shaking his head at me, “If you kept that up, I would have came in that lovely mouth of yours.”
“But isn't that a good thing?” I asked, a confused look on my face.
“Not if I want to get inside you,” he said, while laying me back onto the bed and climbing on top of me, settling himself between my thighs. He lined up the tip of his hard cock at my opening, rubbing it up and down, coating it with my wetness.
I moaned out loud as I felt his tip brush over my clit. “Oh, George, I can't take it anymore. I need...”
“I know what you need,” he groaned, pushing the head of his cock into me just a little, “I know what we both need.”
He was stretching me, he felt so big going in and I knew the sensation would take some getting used to. George groaned above me, a st
rained sound, and I looked up at him.
“I don't have anything,” he said, struggling to get the words out, “I don't think I can stop now.”
In my passion filled haze, it took me a moment to realize what he was saying. He didn't have a condom with him and I didn't have anything with me either, but I had no intention of stopping now. I wanted to feel him completely, skin to skin, no barrier between us.
“It's okay,” I answered, bringing my hand up and caressing his face, “I want you to cum inside me.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. His eyes were full of lust, but still he held back.
“I just finished my period,” I answered, “So, it should be alright.”
His response was immediate. The next thing I knew, he covered my mouth with his, plunging his tongue deep inside mine while thrusting inside me with one swift stroke. I cried out against his mouth as a searing pain ripped through me.
He stilled his movement inside me, moving his head to the crevice of my neck, allowing me to get used to his girth. Soon, the pain ebbed away into a dull ache, eventually being replaced by the pleasurable sensation of him filling me. I moaned, lifting my hips up, encouraging him to move.
He didn't waste any time, once he knew I was ready to continue. He lifted my ass, moved his hips back and thrust into me again, deeply. I moaned loudly and arched my back off the bed.
“Oh God, Megan, you're so fucking tight,” George grunted, shoving his big cock into me again, his balls slapping me on the ass.
Pleasure consumed my body as his cock pounded into me over and over again. My body had since gotten used to his girth and the more he fucked me, the more I craved. It didn't take long for me to slam my hips against his with every stroke.
“George,” I begged, my voice quivering, “Fuck me. Pound my pussy.”
George groaned, his grip on my ass tightening as he slammed into me even harder than before. I moaned as my hands clawed at the bed sheets below me and my pussy convulsed around his cock as I came hard. He never slowed down, plowing into me harder and deeper as he filled me completely.
“I'm gonna cum soon,” George said, his breathe labored, “Are you sure you want me to cum inside?”
The Neighbor Page 2