New Neighbors, Part 1

by Donna & Thom

Clare Writes:

The twenty-something woman who lives downstairs has a childlike body. She is short, under 5 feet. I first got a good look at her at the pool in a two piece: no tits to speak of as if they started to nub and then their growth arrested, just nipples I suspect, gangly legs though and a pert, curvy little butt. Willing, she could help me legally live out a fantasy.

She means to get up at 5:30 but her alarm starts to go off at 5:00. It sounds like a car alarm. She hits the snooze six times, getting 5 more minutes each time. Five minutes of what? Can she really be going back to sleep between the alarms? It seems she must though because the alarm belts out at least a dozen yelps before she hits it again. Finally, at 5:30 she's up.

I imagine her sleeping naked but if not she's thrown the nightgown off and pushed her panties to the floor on the way to the bathroom. The fan goes on immediately followed by the tub water. She's peeing as the water warms and then the shower is engaged. A ten minute shower, very succinct I think. Just the important parts and washing her spiky blond hair. She is very tidy about her person, her body hair is like fuzz on a peach so she likely keeps her mound cleanly shaven. Maybe her soapy hand hesitates there during the shower but I think not; it's only my fantasy that it would or my hand that would if I were showering with her.

Shower is turned off, a quick dry. Back in the bedroom, closet door opens. She's definitely naked now. A peek in the mirror? Is she disappointed about her tits, her little girl body? Does she wish she would grow up?

I don't. I have to touch myself but quietly so I don't wake my husband.

Clothes are out on the bed. A drawer opens, under clothes no doubt. Panties on. Must only be a camisole for the top, couldn't be a bra, not necessary. Out to the kitchen. News channel is on. A piece of toast, juice. Out the door just before 6.

I wish I could get back to sleep but it's time to get up. I get out of bed and turn off the alarm so I can have a few minutes to myself. I pick yesterday's panties off of the pile of clothes on a chair and head for the spare room. On the way I scoop pussy juice out of my vagina with the fingers of my left hand and smear it on my face. I need to smell pussy, it increases my arousal.

I lie on the bed in the spare room and try to get my feet spread over the edge of either side. I want my cunt to be as wide open as it can be. I push vigorously on my labia, trying to satisfy the ache coming from my engorged clit.

The crotch of yesterday's panties are over my nose. Yesterday's pungent smell mixed with today's ripe pussy juices, delicious. The pinkie of my still-wet left hand is in my mouth; it's her clit that I'm licking and sucking as she straddles my face, my nose at the top of her bare mound, smelling the perfume of her sex, my sex, our sex.

She comes and I spin her around, top to bottom so that she can enjoy my bottom as much as I'm enjoying hers. Her mouth easily finds my erect sex poking out of its hiding place, my labia opened wide with my legs spread apart. I now have her back hole available to me. It needs to be kissed, licked, probed with a free finger. My mouth is back on her sex, not missing a beat of the rhythm that we've built up. I come. She comes again.

She spins end to end this time. I pull my feet up to my butt and welcome her between my legs. She arches her back and the lips of our sex meet in a passionate kiss. We press them together like the kiss of lovers that have been apart for a long time. Then our hips begin to move in opposite motions, stimulating our sweet spots that are ripe for closure. We pant, we gasp, we scream.

Only I bite my tongue so that I don't alert my family to my orgasm that comes in waves and waves. One hand is pinching my bare clit the other is stuffed into my vagina nearly up to my wrist, a trailing finger is caressing my rosebud.

I've soaked the bed, a stain over a foot in diameter is under my bum. I get up quickly and spread out the afghan that is folded at the bottom of the bed so that the evidence of my desiring my neighbor is concealed.

I passed the girls' rooms to the bathroom to pee and ran some soap and water over my face—back to the bedroom to kiss my husband awake. We must have forgotten to set the alarm again I tell him; it's a few minutes after six. Let's get a shower before we have to get the girls up.

He wanders off in a stupor to the bathroom. I follow behind slowly though, entering each of the girls' rooms to be close to them as the aura of my morning's fantasy subsides. Is it them I want to be with? Is it someone their age? one of their friends? Another morning passes without any answers.

I touch their hair, their backs, and their chests as they lie sleeping and then I go off to join my husband in the shower. Thanks to my neighbor downstairs, another day will pass before I have to decide.

Do you suppose she might come up for a muffin the next time my family goes out on an outing and leaves me alone?