Read Analternative (3-Pack Bundle) Online
Authors: Saffron Daughter
If I had to be honest with myself, I’d probably say that the opportunity to fuck him has been there before. I mean… he’s attractive, and he knows I’m attracted to him. He’s a man, and we’re neighbors. It’s not rocket science.
For the past two years he’s been going to this crossfit gym just down the road. As a result of that, I now know the exact time when he begins his ritual Sunday sunbathing session. It’s just one of those things, y’know?
Jim Stone, the man who lives next door to me. He works from home. It looks like he owns some kind of eBay company, or something. He’s always got the postman driving by and picking up small parcels. Whatever. He’s an entrepreneur. He’s made his own business. I like that. It shows initiative, and a desire for control. My kind of man.
Me? I work nights. Night shift at the local hospital. Not a doctor, not a nurse, just do admin. People usually think I’m a nurse when I tell them I work nights at the hospital. They don’t realize that for every new patient that comes in — either of their own accord, or in the back of an ambulance — they need to be checked in, have their previous records pulled up, blood type, medical history… it goes on. So yes, we do admin work at four in the morning. Oh, and I almost
never
have to deal with impatient, scumbag patients. People just seem a lot more mellowed out in the middle of the night. It pays well, and it means I get to spend my days pseudo-stalking Jim Stone, the man who lives next door to me.
That is, the man who lives next door to me, but only for the next seven days. After that, I move out of this neighborhood for good and a bit closer into the city. That leaves me only seven days…
seven days
to get in Jim Stone’s pants.
The day that it happened started scorching. Well,
my
day started scorching. For normal people on a normal schedule, it was already half past one in the afternoon. I had forgotten to draw the curtains after my shower when I got home from work. It had been a long and dull mind-numbing night. The sun streamed into my room and was trying to set it ablaze. The sky was gleaming blue, and seemed to be huffing and puffing all the white clouds away. The lawn burned green and the trees swayed joyously and a light breeze blew generously…
And Jim Stone was sat on the small table in his backyard wearing nothing but a pair of tight-fitting briefs. They clung to his skin. They were like his second skin. And, as usual, I spied him for a while from my window while still lying in bed.
My bed was just about the only thing not yet stuffed into a box.
Jim Stone was working on his laptop, tapping away with his large hands and deft fingers. Though he was sat, his stomach did not sag. Instead, his posture seemed only to highly the graceful bumps of his abdominal muscles. His arms were lean without being off-putting. They weren’t too large — he was no beefcake — but they weren’t weakling arms either.
In short, he looked damn sexy. Especially wearing nothing but those tight little dark-blue briefs.
I like to sleep in the nude. Even more, I like to stand at my bedroom window in the nude. And I did so while watching my next door neighbor. He wouldn’t be able to see me, I knew that. It was darker inside than out. He’d only see the reflection of the sky, occasionally interrupted by a passing bird or plane.
But I could see him, and with my body bared. There was something sexy about that. Something… activating.
I daydreamed while watching him. I thought about wrapping my legs around him while his strong arms carried me effortlessly. I thought about his arm over my shoulder and him holding me from behind. I imagined the feel of his excitement pressing into the small of my back.
Before I knew it, I was touching myself while daydreaming, making my honey flow. I was swollen and wet; naughtily ready.
It didn’t take long. It never does when I watch Jim Stone.
I shuddered and cried out, and slumped against the window a heaving, panting mess. My hair was sticking to my forehead, and there was a glisten in between my breasts.
“It’s time I did something about this,” I whispered to myself, before turning and walking into the bathroom to take a shower.
* * *
With the morning ritual completed — or rather, the afternoon ritual completed — I put on a pair of purple panties and a long t-shirt. This was how I wanted to look when I saw Jim Stone, the man who lived next door. There were only a few days to go until I would be dozens of miles away, and with no real reason to come back.
The time had come. I turned and measured myself in the full body mirror. The tee fell to just below the curve of my bum. The obvious hiding in plain sight.
I walked out of kitchen entrance, arms struggling to contain a big batch of laundry. It was the perfect reason to get outside. Across from me and just over the small fence I could see Jim Stone tapping away at his computer, doing his work. His back was to me and the lines of his muscle were obvious even in his relaxed posture.
The grass burned green and the sky beat blue and the sun showered down sweaty heat.
Jim’s legs were stretched out in front of him, one foot over the other. A dark hair coated them, but not too much. His calves were deliciously shaped and angled. A thick vein ran up the inside of his leg, up his thigh and presumably disappeared into his crotch. His arms were lined with wriggling veins. It all gave him an aura of virility.
As I put up the washing, pegging it to the line, I wondered what I should say to Jim, how I should greet him. I didn’t have a reason to, and no real excuse to, either. To just say hello… well that would be
obvious
.
“Hi, Jim!” I called, and he turned around to look at me. That handsome, clean-shaved face broke into a wide grin.
“Lauren,” he said. “And how are you?”
“Fine,” I called out, both loving and hating the ritual small talk. I bent over purposely, and my tee rode up. I was granting Jim a peek at my bum, and as I lifted up another piece of clothing, I turned to see that he was out of his chair and walking toward the fence that separated us.
My heart started thumping.
“And you?”
“Oh, you know, lovely day, easy job, beautiful neighbor.” His eyes seemed to wink without winking, and I measured my laugh at the obvious compliment. I could see his eyes roaming over my barely clothed body, and loved the fact that he was devouring the sight of me.
We made eye contact. He asked me if I needed a hand. I nodded and smiled at him, biting my lip a little.
In one swift, unexpected motion, Jim put one hand on the fence, and launched his body over, legs first. The move was powerful and graceful. Powerful and graceful. He walked over to me purposefully, the bulge of his manhood like a bull’s-eye on his briefs. They rolled slightly from left to right as he walked, and I couldn’t stop watching. He bent over in front of me to pick up the rest of my laundry, and pegged them to the line in what seemed like a world-record time.
“Wow,” I whispered. “Thanks.” My heart was hammering. My breaths were shallow. The time had come.
“Do you think,” I asked, moving away from him and gesturing with my head to the kitchen. “You could give me a hand with something else?”
“Sure,” he said, following me. I walked into the kitchen, excitement bubbling up within me. I felt like a sentient mousetrap about to snap shut on some poor, hapless, little white mouse.
Jim entered my kitchen, my trap. I closed the door behind him and stepped over to him. His body was immaculate. It glistened, shimmered. His flat stomach, the powerful chest, the wide and rounded shoulders.
“Jim,” I said softly, and the air was suddenly stifling, thick with tension. It was as if a blanket had been thrown over us, and we were trapped together in a small space, breathing the same pocket of air, with nothing else to think about but each other.
I used the time the tension afforded me to rally my courage. I was going to do it. It was crazy, but I was
actually
going to do it!
I stepped closer to Jim. I reached out and I touched his chest briefly. The contact we made was only a whisper, but a jolt of electricity shot through my arm. My stomach fluttered. My heart raced.
And the very next moment I was on my knees, gripping at the waistband of Jim’s shorts and pulling them down his thick and muscled thighs.
“What?” I heard him say quietly, as his mind began to process it all. He took one step back, but the kitchen door was shut. It also opened inward. I reached out and grabbed his balls in one hand, softly, but the implication was obvious. I watched as his smooth-skinned cock slowly throbbed to life, and as the veins that lined it began to protrude.
I almost squealed, seeing his manhood erecting. Jim was definitely more man than most.
A brief glance at Jim, and his eyes told me he wasn’t going to stop me. I took his tip inside my mouth and just let it sit there, still growing harder. I savored the feeling of its increasing rigidity, and every now and then circled my tongue teasingly around his dome.
It was only a few more moments before he was fully hard, his manhood reaching its apex. He was thick, swollen, engorged. Veins lined his rigid shaft. His balls were heavy and swung loosely behind his member, jutting out and weapon-like.
I looked up his body and into his eyes, once again seeking a small reassurance, that reaffirmation that he wasn’t about to back out, lose his nerve, or flee.
I got what I was looking for. He wasn’t going anywhere. His attention was held in my palm like his sack.
Teasing him lightly, I continued to explore his purple tip with my tongue, swabbing it over and under the smooth, bell-shaped surface. I massaged his balls gently, delicately, and ran my fingers through the neatly trimmed tuft of pubic hair that garnished his pubis, that sat right where his abdominals converged on his groin, where that delicious line of separation converged inward above the hips.
He was unbelievably sexy, and the allure had not worn off even though I had him naked in my kitchen, even though I had his thickness sitting in my mouth. This was the kind of fantasy that didn’t get worse when realized. It was the kind that got better.
With a kind of dizzying rush, I realized that what I had desired for many years… it was
finally
mine! The epiphany slapped me across the face, and took me out of the moment for a fleeting moment. I had
made
my move. This was no daydream. This was no fantasy! It was the here and now, the real;
happening
.
Jim’s hand running through my hair pulled me back into the present and out of reverie. His hand found the back of my head and slowly he began to encourage me down the length of his manhood. I did not resist. I didn’t
want
to resist. I simply opened my through and swallowed his gristle down and down and down until his wide bell sat at the back of my throat.
A gag threatened, and I swallowed the reflex.
Before me there were still a couple of inches of him that had not yet invaded my mouth. I couldn’t take him whole. I couldn’t take him all the way, couldn’t press my nose up against his pubic hair. There was simply no way. It was both disappointing and exciting.
I pushed back a little and he let go of the back of my head, and I let his saliva-slicked member out of my mouth slowly, making sure to graze the back of his tip, where that sensitive stretch of skin lies, with my lower lip.
I let him out into the air, and his penis throbbed and quivered a little. Slowly, I closed my lips back around him, sealing him from the outside elements, and into the warm safety of my mouth. I sucked on his fantastic cock again and again, sliding it in and out of my mouth as far as it would go. I wrapped my fingers around his base and squeezed and pumped him rhythmically.
I was blowing him for all I was worth. His quiet groans and his tensed stomach told me I was making an impression, told me I was doing
something
right.
We once again made eye contact. We spoke with our looks. Not a single word had been said since he had entered my kitchen.
Not. One.
And I couldn’t believe it.
Jim reached down and his fingers found the end of my t-shirt. He pulled it up swiftly, and I raised my arms above my head so he could pull it off in one fluid motion. He threw it onto the kitchen counter carelessly, and in an instant his hands were roaming my body, kneading my breasts, pinching and tweezing my nipples.
I stuffed his swollen shaft as far as I could down the back of my throat. I wanted him to climax; I wanted to be the bringer of his pleasure.
But more than that, I wanted to move on to part two. My panties were soaked with my juices. I was horny as hell, brimming with lust, overflowed with desire.
I began to pump him faster, taking him in and out of my mouth nearly his entire length, and bringing my hand up his shaft to match.
I felt a bead of sweat drip down between my breasts. It was sweltering in the kitchen. He took my hand that held his balls and pushed it down my body. Grinning, I obliged, and began to touch my clit through my sodden panties, feeling the hardened stub that had been aching for attention, the clitoral shaft that had itself become erect with my lust.
“Yes,” I heard Jim groan. It was the first word that had been uttered in this kitchen. “Oh, shit, yes. That feels good. Don’t stop.” My heart rate increased. I felt his girth begin to swell inside my mouth. His calves grew more angular and he got to his toes. His stomach muscles tensed tighter, and his thighs flexed.
His hands once again were at the back of my head, only this time more forceful. He held me in place and began to push himself deeper into me. He was fucking my mouth, and all I could do was open my throat.
Pre-cum leaked out of him copiously. I could taste him. Second after second his shaft became thicker, harder. It seemed impossible, unimaginable.
Urgently, he ripped his cock out from my mouth and began to stroke himself in rapid movements, from tip to base. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, and I watched as his whole body seemed to flex, as he seemed to grow tight all at once.
“Come for me,” I whispered breathlessly, and an instant later a massive stream of molten seed exploded from his cock. Shot after shot of his ropy semen was launched onto my waiting face, into my waiting mouth, and over my waiting breasts.