The Neighbors

To put it bluntly, I like to fuck. I know what you're thinking: "Doesn't everyone?". But that isn't true. Everyone likes to climax, but not everyone truly enjoys fucking. To me, it's about much more than just getting off. Orgasms are great, but there is so much more to it than that. Really great sex is like a compelling novel: there's a beginning—an introduction. Tension is built up over time, and finally there's a point where everything comes together and you are totally taken in, and then there's a conclusion that leaves you satisfied, yet still craving more.

In the middle, there are a million small details. The beauty lies in those small moments. I like the subtle glances across the room, when our eyes meet and we realize that we're both thinking the same thing. I like slowly undressing my lover, eagerly anticipating what's to come. I like being so hard that I feel like I'll die if I don't get inside her soon. I like the feel of my hand, sliding along the damp silk of her panties, feeling her warmth. I like the moment our lips meet and we both feel that mark. I like feeling her hot hand wrap around my rock hard shaft, teasing me, tempting me. I love the feel of my hands on her breasts, her hips, her ass. I love the moment when my engorged head touches her outer folds, and then I penetrate her and our two bodies become one.

There are a million different ways to fuck, and I love them all. I can appreciate the beauty of being in a dark room, illuminated by a hundred candles. Our two bodies tied up in knots, writhing away beneath the sheets as we make slow, passionate love beneath the sheets for hours on end.

I like the intensity of being overwhelmed by lust, when you barely make it in the front door. Two bodies crushed against the wall, clothes tearing as we frantically try to get at one another—incapable of waiting one second more.

I like the thrill of slipping away in a dark alley or out of the way closet—lifting her skirt, pulling down my pants and struggling to keep quiet as we fuck, knowing at any moment that we could be discovered.

I like the freedom of a secluded cabin, with no one around for miles to hear us moan, and scream, and call out to one another as the windows rattle and the bed creaks as I invade her body furiously and her nails imbed themselves in my flesh.

I love to be on top. I love to be ridden. I love to fuck doggie-style. I love to be straddled. I like to be in charge, and I like to submit. I love to give head, get head, and sixty nine. I love it vanilla and I love it kinky. I like it morning, noon, and night. I love to be in her hand, mouth, pussy and ass. I love it in the bed, on the floor, in a chair, in the shower, in the car, on a table, on the balcony, on the beach and everywhere else. Like I said, there are literally a million ways to fuck, and I love them all. Why would anyone settle for just one way?

Some people enjoy a one night stand or a short, meaningless fling, but not me. Maybe you can have good sex with someone you barely know, but you can't have GREAT sex. It takes more than just two horny people to reach the greatest heights of passion. There has to be intimacy. There has to be trust. There has to be a true connection of mind, body and soul. It takes time and familiarity to reach that point.

I didn't always feel this way. Growing up, I was like any other guy. I was primarily concerned about myself. My own enjoyment was priority number one. Sure, I was willing to do the little things to make my partner happy. I made sure she was having a good time, but in the back of mind, the ultimate goal was always self-satisfaction. I made her happy, so she'd continue to do the same for me. It was about a year ago when everything started to change—when I started to realize that there can be so much more to sex and that I can find happiness just from bringing joy to another. It was about a year ago when I first met Michelle.

It was the dead of winter when we first met. All but her eyes were hidden underneath several layers of clothing, so I can honestly say that her intelligence was the first thing I noticed about her. We were both out walking our dogs around the apartment complex on a blustery December night, and a conversation started up when our dogs decided to greet one another with the traditional butt sniff. Right away I picked up on Michelle's wit and charm.

It wasn't until a few days later when our paths crossed once again that I learned she was beautiful. Our leashes got tangled once again, and after we managed to free the disgruntled dogs, she invited me over to her apartment for some hot cocoa. There seemed to be a natural rapport between us, so I accepted the offer.

Once we got in the front door, the dogs took off chasing one another around the small living room. As Michelle removed her scarf, stocking cap, and burly winter coat, I realized that she was stunningly pretty. She stood about five foot nine, with a body like Marilyn Monroe. Her long blonde hair came nearly to her waist. She was gorgeous, even dressed down in her baggie olive cargo pants and loose black sweater.

While Michelle busied herself in the kitchen, I took a look at the bookshelves in the corner of the room. I was surprised to see we had a very similar taste in movies, music, and novels. She told me to put in a CD, so I stuck one of the Beatles later albums in the stereo and took a seat on the couch. A few minutes later, she came in with the cocoa and some cookies. We sat chatting and listening to the music while the dogs played with each other in the center of the room. When the music stopped, we decided to pop in a movie. I ended up hanging out at her place until 2 in the morning.

As I walked home with my dog, I marveled at what a wonderful time we'd had together. I couldn't remember the last time I'd just hung out with such an intelligent, beautiful woman. I was still thinking about her an hour later when I finally laid down to bed. As I drifted off to sleep I decided that Michelle was out of my league. A woman like her would never be interested in an average guy like me, no matter how many things we had in common. My last conscious thought was that I would not ask her out and risk ruining would could be a great friendship.

(((((((((())))))))))

Keeping my relationship with Michelle strictly platonic turned out to be the best decision I could have made. I didn't feel obligated to try and impress her, or seduce her, or put on some façade. When we ran into each other, she got to see the real me without any of the normal smoke and mirrors I put out for other women. As a result, a friendship blossomed quickly between us.

At first, we'd just run into one another a few times a week when we were out walking the dogs. Occasionally I'd end up hanging out at her apartment. Eventually, we started making plans to hang out. We'd go to movies or dinner together on the weekends. Sometimes we'd just go out for a few drinks. We complimented one another perfectly and always had a great time. Even when we disagreed on something, the arguments were good-natured and nobody walked away angry.

In only a matter of month, she had become my closest friend. We talked everyday, either by email, in person, or on the phone. We got dinner together frequently. She became my confidante—when anything went wrong, she was the first person I turned to. If I had problems with work, or women, or just life in general, I'd ask her advice. We got to know everything about one another. I learned that she moved to the south because she felt her life had become stagnant. She'd only had one serious relationship, and after 6 years together she'd finally realized it wasn't working, so she left New York to get away and try life somewhere new.

By June, the two of us had become inseparable. Michelle hadn't dated anyone regularly since I met her, and I was having a bad string of luck, so we were spending most evenings together watching old movies like "Bonnie and Clyde" and "Chinatown". We were sitting in her apartment on the first day of summer when things changed between us forever.

It was a sweltering day. A violent storm had come through in the afternoon, knocking out the power for the entire apartment complex. I wasn't happy about the lack of air conditioning, but Michelle was having a much rougher time than I. She was sweating up a storm as she sat on the floor getting her ass kicked in Trivial Pursuit.

"I swear I'm going to melt," she groaned for the hundredth time.

"Oh...poor Princess Michelle," I teased. "Would you like an ice bath?" I took some ice out of my glass and dropped it down the back of her loose, black tank top.

She jumped at first, but then relaxed.

"Actually," she said, "that's not half bad."

"You're psychotic," I said, tossing another piece of ice in her direction. She caught it and started running it along her arms. She shivered as little goose bumps popped up along her biceps, but she was also smiling.

"Shit! That feels good," she groaned. "You should try it."

"No thanks," I responded. "Some of us can handle the heat."

"Whatever!" she said. "I'm not ashamed to admit I prefer the cold." She continued to run the ice up and down her arms until it had melted. "If you're not going to do yourself, will you do my back then?" she asked.

I agreed, and Michelle moved over and sat between my legs. She leaned forward and pulled her long, blonde hair up, exposing her neck. I took another piece of ice and placed it on her shoulder. She moaned like a porn star in response.

"Oh, that feels sooooooooo good!"

I suddenly felt a little awkward, but I didn't want her to know, so I continued with the ice. I slid it along her shoulder, and then down the back of her neck. She moaned again, then untucked her little black tank top from her red plaid skirt and lifted it a bit.

"Do me here," she said, pointing at her lower back.

She moaned again and squirmed a bit as I obliged. Although I tried to fight it, sexual imagery was flooding my mind. Suddenly, I realized I was getting turned on. I remembered that Michelle was sitting right between my thighs and I tried to reposition myself before she could feel what was happening, but as I started to slide back, she turned and flashed me a knowing grin.

"Feels like someone's having a little bit too much fun with this," she said with a wink.

"Very funny," I responded. "It's just a natural response. I guess we should stop this."

"Sure," she said. "I don't want to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable," I protested. "I'm just not sure where this will lead, and I don't want to ruin our friendship."

"Fine," she said coyly. "I was just trying to cool off. If you can't handle it, I guess I'll do it by myself."

She took the small sliver of ice from my hand and lifted her shirt, showing off her pierced navel. She started to rub the ice along her flat belly. At the same time, she leaned back again, placing her weight on my rapidly growing penis.

"Michelle, if you keep doing that it's only going to lead to one place," I said. "We don't want to fuck up our relationship, do we?"

"Why does it have to lead there?" she asked with a wicked grin. "We're both adults. I think we can handle a little bit of teasing without caving in to temptation, can't we?"

"You mean we can do this, without ending up in bed together?" I asked.

"I can hold out," she said. "But I know you're a man, so you're weaker. I'll understand if you want to leave now."

She grabbed another piece of ice from the cup and started towards her bare stomach. I paused for second, thinking through the situation.

"Fuck this!!" I finally said to myself. "If she can hold out, so can I."

"Give me that damn ice," I said.

She handed me the cube and leaned back. She squirmed about, deliberately rubbing her ass against my stiffening cock.

"Fucking tease!", I muttered to myself.

I took the ice and placed against her belly ring and held it there until the metal was nice and cold. Then I started sliding it upward and around her stomach, leaving a wet trail on her pale skin. With my other hand, I grabbed a second piece of ice and slid it up and down her arms and over her shoulders and neck. Michelle moaned loudly in response.

"Are you feeling any cooler now, Princess?" I asked.

"Actually, I think I'm getting hotter," she teased.

"Well it could be all the clothes you're wearing," I responded. "Maybe you need to take off a layer?"

I figured my comment would put an end to her teasing and we'd both have a good laugh and then I'd rush home to masturbate. To my surprise, she wasn't done playing. She sat forward, grabbed the hem of her shirt, and with one quick motion pulled it over her head and off. She tossed it aside and leaned back. Looking over her shoulder, I could see that her large breasts were barely contained by the flimsy burgundy bra she was wearing.

"You may continue," she said with a wicked grin.

Unwilling to lose the battle, I grabbed three fresh pieces of ice. I kept one in each hand and slipped the other in my mouth. I placed my left hand on her left knee, and slowly began to work my way down Michelle's thigh. I pushed her little pleated skirt up a bit before slowly sliding back down towards her knee. Then I switched legs and repeated.

Meanwhile, my other hand was roaming around her belly again. I slid the ice along the bottom of her bra strap. Her large, hard nipples were starting to poke through the thin, gauzy fabric of her brassiere. I was aching to drop the ice and fondle her breasts, but I refused to cave into temptation and prove Michelle's "men can't help themselves" mentality correct.

With the third piece of ice dangling from my lips, I placed my mouth by her throat and started to circle it. I slid my slips along her neck, moving up her jawbone until I reached her ear. I ran the ice cube around her ear lobe and then back down. Michelle turned to face me and I could see the lust in her eyes. For a brief moment, our lips met. The ice slipped from my mouth to hers. Her pierced tongue slipped inside my mouth for just a second, and then it was over. She pulled her head back and smiled at me.

"I'm sorry," she said teasingly. "I know you're trying really hard, Mr. Science, but I still don't feel any cooler. If anything, I think I'm even hotter than before you started."

"Still too much clothes," I said. I placed my hand on the clasp at the front of her bra. "Maybe if we undid this." I was sure that would be enough to make her back down.

"If you think so," she said with mock seriousness.

"What?" I said. She'd caught me off guard.

"Go ahead—unhook it," she answered.

I was stunned. I grasped the clasp in my fingers and started to undo it. I paused for a second, waiting for Michelle to stop me. When she showed no signs of interrupting, I snapped the clasp and her full breasts spilled out. I couldn't help staring. They were flawless.

"Maybe when you get done gawking you can put some ice on my nipples," she said coyly. I could tell she was having a great time teasing me. I wasn't about to let up—either she would back out or start begging for sex. In either case, I wasn't going to be the one to crack.

I reached in the cup and grabbed some more ice. I took one of her soft orbs in my hand and held it, while the other hand guided the ice to her already erect nipple. She gasped loudly. For a second, I was certain she was about to cave, but she managed to regain her composure. I started circling each of her nipples with the ice cube, and Michelle moaned out her delight. At the same time, I put another cube of ice in my mouth and started to glide my tongue around her neck and ears once more.

"Still hot?" I whispered in her ear?

"On fire," she responded.

"I'm running out of places to put the ice," I said.

She flipped her skirt up, revealing her tiny burgundy panties. "How about here?"

I was a little surprised, but I'd also become unflappable. I unzipped her skirt, and she stood up and wriggled out of it. She sat back down between my thighs wearing nothing but her little silk panties. She'd mentioned on many occasions that her clit was pierced, and now I could see the outline through the thin fabric.

Every part of my body wanted to end our silly game and carry her to bed—every part, except my brain. It would not give in, and so I settled in for yet another round.

Her panties were already soaked, even before the ice touched them. I thought she was going to cum right away from the way she acted when the ice first touched her pussy. Through her panties, I slid it up and down along her slit, pausing at the clit each time. With my other hand, I held ice to her nipples and twisted and tweaked them.

She was squirming furiously now. Michelle rubbed her ass frantically against my cock. I couldn't tell if it was her natural reaction to my touch, or if she was just trying to break my will power. Either way, I held onto my resolve.

Determined to make her give in, I grabbed the gusset of her panties and pushed it aside. I found her wet pussy open and ready. I let my ice cube slide between those lips and up inside her.

"Oh shit!" she cried out.

"Still on fire?" I asked with a laugh. I could tell I had the upper hand now.

"Burning up," she cried out.

"Maybe this will help."

I took a second ice cube and slid it into her pussy. Then I followed it with two fingers. I stirred the cubes around inside her. All the ice was gone, so I just fondled her breasts openly with my free hand. Michelle's hips bucked up, forcing my fingers deeper inside her. With my thumb, I flicked at her clit piercing as I finger fucked her. She turned and kissed me feverishly as she lost control of her body. She bounced her hips up and down, taking my fingers into her again and again.

I continued to knead her breasts and kiss her roughly as my hands invaded her cunt. Michelle moved faster and faster. Her cries got louder with each thrust. Finally, with one long, animalistic moan she started to cum. I could feel her pussy clenching my fingers as the waves of pleasure rushed through her body.

Michelle laid motionless for several minutes trying to catch her breath. Finally, she opened her big green eyes and peered at my face. I pulled my two fingers out of her wet vagina.

"Fuck me," she said.

"What was that?" I said jokingly.

"I said ‘fuck me'," she answered.

"I don't think so," I said, mocking a serious tone. "I mean, I wouldn't want you to think that men are weak. I'm perfectly capable of holding out."

"Don't hold out," she pleaded. "I don't want you to."

"No," I said. I really enjoyed having the upper hand. "Actually, maybe I should leave."

Michelle rolled over and nearly pinned me on the floor. Her bright green eyes were locked on mine.

"Don't leave," she said.

"Are you going to call me weak?" I asked.

"No, you're not weak."

"Who's weak, then?" I asked.

"I am," she said. "I'm weak. Now stop playing these stupid games and fuck me." I smiled wickedly, refusing to give in. "Pleeeeeeeease," she started, "Please fuck me."

She slipped out of her tiny panties and guided my fingers to her wet cunt.

"See how wet I am," she said. "Don't you want to fuck me?"

"No," I responded. I was dying to pounce on her, but I was having too much fun with our little game.

She kneeled in front of me and started to unbuckle my pants. I offered mock protest as she opened my belt. She popped the button and then slowly slid the zipper. Although I still feigned disinterest, I lifted my hips slightly so she could tug my pants and underwear down to my knees. My rigid cock sprung free.

Michelle kneeled on all fours between my spread legs. Her large tits dangled seductively. Her pouty, full lips were just inches from my engorged cock head. With one hand, she reached up between her legs and started to rub her swollen, pierced clit. She moaned seductively as she toyed with her own body.