The Good Neighbor

bypenny_coyne©

There was really no point ignoring the crying coming from the apartment next to my own. I knew it to be heartfelt since I was aware the man residing there had recently lost his wife of many years to cancer. I knew little else other than his name was Moussa and I believe he had been a merchant seaman, rarely home and then only for short periods.

I had nodded to his wife, Sophia, on those occasions where we passed in the hallway. She seemed a sad woman, lonely I suppose for her husband. This I surmised largely due to the long nights of lovemaking that I could hear coming through my bedroom wall whenever Moussa returned home from one of his voyages. I envied her in a way. Moussa was a robust man in his early sixties and obviously most capable in bed, if his late wife's moans were any indication.

So I listened to him crying and felt pity but what can one do where grief abounds other than let it play itself out.

A few hours later into the late evening the crying had abated and I felt he would rest perhaps. Then as I was readying myself for bed I heard a tremendous crash from Moussa's apartment and then sounds of someone in pain.

I did not think and just opened my apartment door and approached Moussa's apartment knocking lightly on the door. I am a registered nurse and training can be one's salvation as well as one's undoing in this case. My only thought was that he needed medical attention. What was not in my thought process was that I was wearing my pink negligee with a matching silk robe and my hair in curlers. Although that would not be unusual for a woman about to retire to her bed, the fact remained that I was not a woman.

So I again knocked a bit more firmly on Moussa's door and hearing no reply tried the doorknob which was unlocked.

"Uh, Mr. Moussa are you alright?" No answer and no sign of him in the living room.

I stepped inside the apartment and called out again, not seeing him in the kitchen as I progressed slowly and somewhat timidly. I could also see his bathroom door was open and he was not there either.

I went down a small hall to the bedroom; his apartment was exactly the same layout as that of my own apartment. As I entered the bedroom, which was dimly lit, I could smell the alcohol that was overpowering.

"Mr. Moussa? It's Terry from next door. Are you ok?" Still no reply, but I could hear his heavy breathing from the darkness.

I found that he was half out of his bed, lying partially across a nightstand that had toppled beneath him. I went to him and not ascertaining any obvious trauma to his head and limbs; I managed to lift him, after a struggle, onto the bed so that he was laying face up. He was a rather large man, being over six feet tall and at least 200 pounds. I, on the other hand, was a rather small person being five feet five inches and all of 125 pounds. My small size was most useful to me when I changed from "Terry" to "Terri". Unlike most males whose swagger and macho size feeds their manly ego, I felt most feminine and had no desire to "man-up"! Being a nurse allowed me to obtain hormones without detection and I had a nice little butt, shapely and round that more than complimented my small but ever growing breasts, about a 34B in size. My hair was fashionably long but not excessively so for a younger man of 24 years of age.

I closed the apartment door and returned to the bedroom making sure Moussa's breathing was regular and I propped him up higher on his pillows to insure he would not choke on his own vomit in the event he regurgitated during the night. He was exceedingly drunk but who could blame him under the circumstances.

As I covered him with a blanket, I was unable to help but notice the rather large bulge in the fly area of his underpants. No wonder the wife made such noise I thought! I turned to leave when I felt a strong hand on my fanny as it wrapped around my waist, pulling me back to the bed, effortlessly as if I were a feather.

"Sophia, wor you ban?" his voice slurred by drink cooed from behind my ear.

"Oh no', I thought, 'I'm dressed as Terri! I didn't even remove my make-up yet! Crap!

He pulled me closer to him as he lay forward in the bed and turned my body around to face him. I struggled but could not break free of his grip. I could see he was still very intoxicated and that his eyes were almost closed.

"Listen Moussa, I'm Terry from next door and I only came to see if you were alright. I'm sorry that you lost your wife but I have to go now!"

He wasn't hearing me or at least understanding me because he had lifted me up into the bed and had me in his arms, atop him as he grabbed my ass with both hands, holding me so that my legs were stretched out as I lay across him, my face over his own.

"I miss you so ver much my little Sophia", Moussa whispered in my ear as he nuzzled my neck and his busy hands caressed my behind.

Oh, no this can't be happening but it was and as I lay there on top of him, struggling less and less he began to kiss me, reaching up with one hand to hold my neck, gently, as his tongue found it's way into my mouth. I was totally in his control and I was beginning to reciprocate his passion as I kissed deeply as well.

I could see he was truly unaware as to who I was, thinking in his drunken stupor that I was his Sophia. The idea of this actually was pleasing to me for some reason. I had never been with a man, although I had fantasized many times of course as I used my dildos and vibrators.

Soon I began to feel him hardening beneath me as we embraced and kissed. I felt it was time to stop so I tried to squirm out of his arms but to no avail. Suddenly he pulled me even further up so that I was now straddling his groin.

"Moussa, please no don't do this! I'm not your Soph...", but I never finished my sentence as he pulled me down so we were again kissing. I felt his hand on my ass at first, and then it was pulling my robe and negligee up over my rear. I panicked but could not break free as he pulled his penis from his underpants and started to fumble with my panties from behind, all the while holding me down and kissing me furiously.

I felt his penis brush past my now exposed ass as he fingered what he thought was my vagina but of course it was my anus. His hands were huge and as he inserted his finger into my anus I thought it not much smaller than one of my vibrators. He worked his finger in and out slowly and I was once again surrendering to him. I kissed him madly and he worked his magic finger deeper and faster inside of me.

I was lost in my passion, so much so that I did not realize Moussa had removed his finger and suddenly something so much larger was trying to get inside me. I reared up off his face and that was exactly the wrong thing to do as inadvertently I raised my ass while doing so and he thrust his cock well inside my already quivering anus.

Oh, stars burst through my head as the pain came so suddenly. Yet I cried out not in alarm but in a primal response to his manhood now forcing itself deeper inside of me. I rocked forward and back as if I could shake him from me, but he stayed with my movements and I fell in place with his thrusts and he read my body motion perfectly.

As he drove his cock up into me I loosened my sphincter, remembering how I could relax eventually while masturbating with my dildo. I rode him now and he started to take me to a place I had never been, sending wave after wave of pain and pleasure inside me.

He still wanted to kiss as we made love and I did too. He was showing no sign of stopping and I wondered how he would be sober. If he could cum at all while so drunk would be a wonder.

I sat upright and he fondled my small breasts, the nipples and areolas so engorged I thought they might burst. Never had I had such sensation and I was now being doubly pleasured as his cock filled my ass and his hands on my breasts drove me wild.

I was moaning and making noises I never knew I was capable of and I desired that it should never stop. And it seemed like it never would as both our sweat soaked bodies continued, but suddenly I felt Moussa tense up inside me and with a bellowing roar he let loose his loads of semen inside my anus. I shrieked with pleasure as I felt the hot cum shooting into me and overflowing back out onto my ass and legs.

He continued to thrust slowly until he had emptied himself and I lay forward onto his chest where he hugged me and kissed my shoulder. I was completely spent and he apparently finally was succumbing to the alcohol because before many minutes he was snoring loudly, holding me firmly and I myself was so weak and yet so utterly content that I fell asleep too.

I awoke with such a happy joy but suddenly realized where I was. Moussa was still asleep and I saw by his alarm clock that at least 3 hours had passed since I first arrived at his apartment. I had to get out of there and right away. He had shifted in his sleep and now only his right arm was across my back. I eased out from under him and quietly got off of the bed. I crept out of the bedroom, making sure my panties were in my hand and I returned to my own apartment after making sure the hallway was clear.

My heart was racing as I locked my door and leant against it wanting to both laugh and cry. What would happen if Moussa wasn't all that drunk and he remembered in the morning? Why did I ever go in there in the first place? But I knew it was right to check on him, even though it was unfortunate I forgot that I was "Terri" at the time.

But do you know what? I am glad that it happened too! I was made love to by a man, and I was his woman even if he was so drunk not to realize it -- or maybe ...!

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