tagMatureMy Neighbour, Reciprocity Ch. 01

My Neighbour, Reciprocity Ch. 01

byAaronAardvark©

We awoke late, I was definitely addicted to my recently acquired toy-boy, James, and both of us understood this, albeit in different ways. Now it was time to bind him to me equally tightly. Which of us was truly conscious first I don't recall, but as we surfaced I was soaking with lust and he rigid with anticipation. Considering his state of arousal, his love making was slow, considerate and gentle - James scares me with his control - my orgasms were many and regular: surprising that I could manage this, as the previous evening I had actually passed out with bliss. But, once again, I was so horny and he was scratching my itch with absolute precision. He must have come, I don't remember it, but when I awoke for the second time I smelt the wetness emanating from my sex and its odour was a mixture of my sated desire and his ejaculate. When I opened my eyes he rolled atop of me and sent me straight back to heaven, this time; biting my breasts, pulling my hair, squeezing my nipples, fingering my anus. What a man, so understanding of my wants; so capable of transforming them into deep, dark, desperate desires.

He made breakfast, I indulged. Sunday morning, no kids, already well satisfied by a night of dissolute deviance followed by a dawn of tender satisfaction, I was on the top of the world. He carried our breakfast in on a single huge oval plate: fried eggs, bacon, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, baked beans, black pudding, loads of toast; accompanied by giant mugs of tea: no knives, no forks, just fingers. Once the plate was empty, he first licked the breakfast platter clean, and then licked my platter clean: meantime, I gobbled a stray sausage that I found in the bed. Who came first is anyone's guess and I've never before, nor after, shared an orgasm which dissolved into a fit of the giggles. Heaven, Paradise, Elysium, Utopia, Zion, Nirvana, Valhalla, Cloud nine, I was on it, in it, unified with it: I had never contemplated the problem that was about to rear its ugly head, I had a rival.

James and I were now making love regularly, lusty days coalesced into sybaritic weeks, sybaritic weeks into hedonistic months; Annie Hall sex, usually two, sometimes as often as three times a week. Every other weekend the kids departed to their dad's and James and I went mad: though we did have to rewrite history a little. Aphrodite was no longer admired for her lissom form but for her child bearing hips and well proportioned tits: Diana, for her ease of capture. James made it simple to understand how dreamy Ragnhild had ended up the mother of the entire Viking nation; that one left me a little bit sore for a couple of days. Isolde's body, we established, was every bit as flexible as her morals, that one left me stiff. Juliet really died of pleasure; twice over. Little Red Riding Hood discovered what the woodsman did with his mighty chopper when he was not slaying wicked wolves; it had nothing to do with trees.

Best of all of these, James demonstrated how the seven dwarves kept Snow White occupied whilst she waited for her hansom prince. Sneezy was first and, every time she was about to come he had a sneezing fit, forcing her to wait. Happy came next, in seconds, further frustrating poor Snow White. Happy had made Happy happy so, of course, his enthusiasm was followed by Sleepy. Sleepy took some awakening but, once some lead had been sucked into his pencil, he was refreshingly vigorous. Bashful followed, at first - due to his intrinsic reticence - he too had to be tempted but he finally delivered the goods. Doc diagnosed the needs of his impatient, after a long, through and exceptionally intimate examination and then took good care of them, with professional and well disciplined attention to detail; Snow White should have married Doc. Grumpy came last, he protested about the slackness of each and every hole as he thrust into them and then 'accidentally' pumped into Snow White's arse: oh well, I was watching us in the mirror and dreaming of Doc.

In the morning Prince Charming awoke Snow White with a kiss, a kiss to each and every square inch of her dermis and then - and then - well the 'and then' is now my standard fantasy whenever I have to finger myself. Despite having to hire a costume for Snow White, I enjoyed it so much that I insisted upon a second performance and it will be our Christmas panto too.

My rival was unexpected, my daughter or, more exactly, her friend. I had no illusions; if my fifteen year old daughter was still a virgin, then so was I. Her friend, Carol, was a year older, intelligent, befreckled, red haired, green eyed, voluptuous - rather than fat - practically perfection; true, she did have a hint of a squint and the merest trace of a blond down upon her top lip, but no red blooded male would notice either of these. I was passing my daughter's room when I heard Carol comment, "Have you seen the bloke that's moved in from you, across your landing? Makes me wet every time I see him." My daughters reply was so mumbled that I concluded that, first, she concurred and, second, was attempting to hide this. But then I was shocked, as the little minx continued, more clearly, "you should see how my Mum looks at him, she practically eats him alive with her eyes, it's really embarrassing. And he looks away and pretends not to notice her; nor me," the latter spoken rather wistfully. 'Well thank God for that,' I thought.

Carol paid her no attention, she simply continued with her licentious comments leaving me consumed with jealousy, I had a rival; youth and beauty versus experience: I know men and I know what usually wins; rarely is it experience.

I could not restrain myself, I knew I ought, but the next time I saw James I had to ask him about the girls; had he noticed the various groups of children? I described my youngest.

"That's your daughter?" He replied, "the skinny girl, always with two lads?"

I swallowed my reaction to skinny, you can't tell with James, he can be undiplomatic to the core; daft or simply direct? I don't know. "They're my boys."

"Your sons must be a handful, they'll have the girls eyes out on stalks. Your daughter's very attractive too, if she fills out like you, she'll be irresistible!"

James, for all his mental and physical abilities, is useless at compliments so, for him, that was a very good effort. "And Carol, my daughter's friend?"

He thought, or pretended to, "the ginger-nut?"

So he had noticed her, "the ginger-nut," I concurred.

"Good job I've got you to distract me, otherwise I might be tempted to break the law." Flattery will get you everywhere, especially if it kept James inside my knickers, which it did: I did not mention that Carol was old enough to be legal, decent and honest; well at least legal, I was sure that she was not honest and I doubted that, if James were about, she would remain decent for any length of time. For me securing James's single minded devotion was becoming a matter of some urgency.

I had three plans for binding James to me: I was spoilt for choice. Then I hit upon what was, with hindsight, the obvious solution, use all three. "Do you trust me?" I asked James one morning as we awoke, I knew what to do, but it was nearly ten years since I had done this to a man.

"Implicitly," he replied, kissing me hard on the lips and wrestling me onto my back.

"Right, Tuesday I'll be round at half past seven when you will do exactly as I tell you, and you are not allowed to come until then, and that's including whatever it is you're about to do next."

Tuesday, half-term, the kids were at Aunty Lynn's caravan. At half-past seven I knocked on James's door, clutching a small black cloth bag, my toy-bag. When he answered I led him to his front room and ordered him to get undressed. Once he was naked and facing the mirror, his stiff cock bobbing up and down all by itself, I handed him an airline sleep mask from my bag and then, once blindfolded, I had him stand up straight, in the middle of the room, and told him to stay like that until I returned. Whilst he stood there, stiff as a soldier, I slipped back to my to my flat and got 'the cushion', the cushion is better explained later, but it is a very useful sex aid. I made him wait fifteen minutes before I went to fetch him. I had a tiny dog collar on a lead and I fixed the collar round his cock and balls and led him to the bedroom. "Are you sure you trust me?" I asked, tugging on the leash.

"Absolutely," he replied, without hesitation, although he had winced a couple of times as I had tugged him along.

"So lie on the bed, on your back." He did as I commanded. His brass bed with its rows of gleaming rails was perfect, I tied his left wrist to one of the more central posts and his right wrist two rails along. "Now you have no choice but to trust me, that might just have been a big mistake on your part," and I began to tickle and lightly scratch his chest with my nails. He first squirmed and then began to thrash about. "Naughty little boy needs to have his legs secured too," I cooed. I tied his ankles to two of the rails at the base of the bed. "Now we don't want naughty boy to hurt his little selfie, do we?" Whilst he was standing at attention in the front I had run two long cords under the mattress which I used to secure and separate his knees and elbows, if you keep these bent it helps to prevent your victim from cramping. "Now arch your back, I need your bum high in the air." I pushed and tugged my special cushion into place, under his back. It is a work of art, composed of three sections, each stuffed separately: the first pushes your bum up, high in the air, the second fits the small of your back and the third tapers away under your upper body. It gives really good support to your victim so you can keep them tied down for ages without them getting stiff, it gives easy access to both genitals and anus and leaves renders them totally immobile.

Once I finally had cushion in place I tightened everything up and finished off by lashing his big toes to the bed rails with boot laces. He was now secured completely, he could wiggle his fingers and blink his eyes and that was the extent of his movements. Nearly time for the mean bit, but first the gag, For this I usually use one of those practice golf balls, the ones with the holes in them, they're big enough to make your poor helpless victim dribble, which is delightfully humiliating but too big to swallow and your hapless prey can breath through them.

"I can do anything I like to you now and you cannot stop me," I cackled as I tickled his chest again, which left him struggling futilely with his cock jerking rhythmically.

"Lets roll that foreskin back," a low groan was his response to that "and up, and down, and up, and down" ten slow strokes had him really squirming. "Gosh you're randy, but first for some fun. Are you ticklish?" His feet were really ticklish, the intensity of his muffled laughter rose from simply helpless to hysterical, then he lost control of his breathing and began to gasp and choke with mirth. I continued to torment his sensitive soles employing staccato bursts of activity which prevented him from hyperventilating his way to unconsciousness. Five minutes is as much as anyone can stand and it left him a sweaty wreck with a very stiff prick: he also now understood completely just how helpless he really was.

"This is fun, isn't it? Shall we go back to those nice slow strokes? Up and down, up and down" I simpered; twenty this time. "Now if you want another twenty slow strokes you shake your head up and down, if you want to be tickled again shake your head from side to side and if you keep still I'll try something different."

"I just knew you'd pick something new to do." In his wine cooler I had stowed the very thing, glycerol on ice. You dribble it onto your victim and it's freezing; it's also very, very viscous but as it warms it slowly glides over their skin giving a new and strangely eerie sensation. Oh, and it's nice and sweet if you need to lick it away. James did not like this. Poor men, when you tease them it's easy to tell what their reaction is, they have a little flag between their legs and as long as that is at full mast you know that, secretly, they are happy with whatever you are doing; as I dripped the cold liquid onto his balls James went limp. So I only left him for a couple of minutes before I licked the stuff away which, not unnaturally, restored his erection.

Time for another twenty slow strokes, this time followed by ten rapid ones, the 'Joy of Sex' had, at least, one excellent idea. Six repetitions of this, twenty slow strokes, interspersed with ten rapid ones was clearly making James very excited indeed. "You are making me so wet and randy with your wriggles and struggles that I need some relief". I had brought my delightfully powerful vibrator with me and James was in for quite a show. I peeled away his sleep mask, sat on his chest, spreading my legs wide, lifted my skirt up high and set to work with the buzzing phallus. I allowed myself a couple of very intense orgasms before I exercised some restraint, popped his gag, swung forwards and ground my pussy against his mouth. By grabbing his hair I could keep him in the right place and I explained that if he wanted to come at all that night I was about to be given four or five orgasms, so he should get licking.

After three climaxes I turned around to face his still jerking cock and began to experiment with the effects the powerful vibrator on his balls and a considerably slimmer vibrator on his anus. Of course these ministrations made it far harder for him to concentrate and it took him a lot longer to make me come, which was nice in a way, because he was really teasing me, causing me to flow copiously all over his nose and mouth, flooding him with my scent. Once I was trembling with lust I resumed my seat on his chest and really went to work on myself with that big vibrator. James watched me enviously as I had orgasm after orgasm, not quite as exhilarating as his shafting me at the end of a long session of teasing, but not far off. And we had not even been at it for an hour yet by then, James was in for a long night.

"Right that's me satisfied for a while so now all I have to think about is you. First, you lick my vibrator clean," I slid it as deep inside me as it would go, rotated it and held it to his mouth. He was not immediately cooperative so I forced his moth open and clipped a clothes peg on to the end of his tongue. The sight of a second peg convinced him to stick his tongue right out for me. Of course he did not have to lick the vibrator just once, I gave the toy several coatings of juice, so he really did get my flavour. When I was satisfied I replaced his gag but not the blindfold.

The "Joy of Sex" advises that ten minutes of slow masturbation is as much as a man can stand; James endured fifteen and of course, did not get to come at the end. This when the bent arms and legs and my special cushion come in, otherwise your victim is likely to tense themselves so hard that they eventually get an agonising cramp. To perform slow masturbation you straddle your helpless victim with your bum and pussy full in his face, far enough away so that he can see you and too far away for him to touch. If you're big enough, and I am, you rest the points of your breasts on his skin so that he can feel their weight pressing upon him. You pull his foreskin back just as far down as it will go and then apply a single stroke to his cock, up and back down in one smooth flowing motion, then wait for a second or two; now you do it again.

Keep this motion up for a total of twenty of these slow, well defined, strokes. Now the killer, raise his foreskin to cover his helmet and flick your wrist to jerk it up and down over the helmet, applying ten very rapid strokes in quick succession. Finally, roll the foreskin back down his shaft and start a new set of twenty slow strokes. If you think he's going to come extend the pauses between the slow strokes and reduce the rapid strokes to eight or even six. You have to have him tied down really securely for this and, unless you want to listen to him endlessly beg and plead with you to make him come, which can be fun in its way, you need to gag your man as well.

After fifteen minutes of this sweet torture James was nicely warmed up. I swung around to face him once more. "Shall I undress for you?" As part of James's tease I had, until now, kept my clothes on, I had simply been bra and panty less. I peeled my blouse away and sexily rubbed my nipples all over James's skin, then leant forwards and dragged my pendulous orbs back and forth across his face. I thought of removing his gag and permitting him to suck my nipples but decided that he would have to wait for that particular treat. I sat on his chest again, unclipped my stockings and rolled them slowly down my legs, left, followed by right. I ditched my suspenders as I slipped off him and stood by the bed where I dropped my skirt slowly and then gave him a twirl to show off my, now nude, form. He many have been immobilised but his cock throbbed and bobbed like a thing possessed.

I raked my nails all over his body and in the process made a very interesting discovery about James. Every time I scraped one of his nipples he squirmed violently. When I began to tickle both of them his struggles became frantic and when I tickled one and licked the other, well it was funny to watch his efforts as the poor lamb really could not move at all. He actually looked scared when I drummed my fingers upon his chest. 'So combine that with slow masturbation.' I thought. But first more teasing. James needed a rest so I extracted a copy of Men Only from my bag and read him one of the stories. After that diversion I had another go with my vibrator whilst he looked on, each time I came I paused to suck the head of his penis for a while. I'm not sure if he loved or hated that, but it kept him very solid and panting for action which, however, was not yet to be. I checked his wrists and ankles for rope burns but the dear sole was so well trussed that these were not beginning to be a problem. I tightened him up, tickled his toes to ensure all was secure, it was; tickled his toes again until till his breathing was so irregular that he nearly passed out, yes he was held fast.

James does not normally like anal, he does it with me because I do so adore that naughty, dirty sensation that passes through me every time he penetrates that tight little hole. I've fingered his bum a couple of times but he's so clearly embarrassed that it does not work. Nipple licking combined with anal beads, that was another story; I soon had him moaning and sighing with pleasure at this new string of delights from my little black bag. I even removed his gag for a while so he could listen to himself groaning with joy every time one of the little slippery plastic balls distended his tight sphincter. "What a dirty little boy," I sneered. "Does he like his little botty probed after all. It sounds to me like he does. In it slides, then out it pops," I used a bigger bead and was pleased to extract two gasps of satisfaction rather than grunts of pain. A little work and I could try a small vibrator out on James, but not tonight, we'd have to save that experience for another time, he wasn't ready yet. Me, when I get randy I enjoy mild pain and can endure the odd jolt of something a little more severe but not James. Men, such babies. I wondered if he realised I'd left the beads inside him?

I posed and pouted for a little while, read him a second bedtime story from that disgusting magazine. I Tickled his balls. I Sucked his cock. I fingered my juicy slot and had him lick and suck the sticky mess from my fingers. All the while the big softy could only think of himself, he begged and pleaded for me to make him come. He would lick me off, on demand, for a month. He would bugger me at the end of every session. "Suck your own come from my cunt," I suggested, cruelly.

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