The Girl Next Door

Ricky pulled the drapes and set up the tripod in his living room. His couch with the bookcases and gas-log fireplace in the background would create a cultured masculine scene, the sort of image he wanted to project. He adjusted the furniture and the lighting. Downing his last swig of whiskey, Ricky fiddled with the camera, setting the timer to snap off two pics and then took his place. What were the agency's photographers always telling the models? Relax and give me a big smile. So he tried to relax and smile. The camera blinked and beeped and flashed, then a couple seconds later did it again. He scrambled over to view what had been shot. Not too bad, except he looked more like a deer in the headlights than a suave, sexy man about town. Big smile! Big Smile!It took until the third try before he got something that he thought would look presentable.

SexyPrincess had told him that she wanted to see everything, so a shirtless pose was next. He didn't like the way it came out when he was seated, so he stood by the fireplace, shoulders back, chest out, stomach in. The pics were okay but looked a little forced, so he relaxed his pose, trying to appear less forced and more natural. He looked directly at the camera and flashed an overwrought smile. Grinning like a god-damned ape, he thought, but then he smiled appreciatively when he looked at the pic. Not bad. Not bad at all. For a moment he admired the deep green eyes, the trim muscular physique, the rippling abs.

Then came the money shot. All of his preparations and photo taking hadn't done anything for his libido. Looking at pictures of himself wasn't exactly his kind of turn on. As he dropped his jeans, Ricky knew that SexyPrincess would want to see him in all his glory. He brought his laptop into the living room and fired it up. Browsing the directory where he had stashed some screen captures of SexyPrincess was all it took. His manhood responded and was quickly brought to attention, bulging against the dark sheen of his briefs. Snap! Snap! Then a couple pulling down the waistband. Snap! Snap! Then several completely naked in various poses. Stroke, stroke! Snap, snap!

Unmindful of his nakedness, Ricky sat at his dining table reviewing the results. Several he deleted right off, the grins too smug or pretentious, the poses simply bad. But there were four or five shots that he thought she would like. In a way it felt like he wasn't even the model, that it had been some other guy flexing and posing. One showed off his best smile for the camera, the grin warm and genuine and not too toothy. The second was from the waist up fully dressed. The third, shirtless, his pose relaxed but confident and manly. The fourth was a full body, his raging erection bulging out against his skimpy briefs. In the fifth he was fully naked, his erection rampant and raw, jutting out proudly from his body, his expression lustful and inviting. Finally a view of his but, tight cheeks clenched, his face looking over a shoulder at the camera. They would make a nice set for her.

Ricky wrote a brief note, linking the photos together with a romantic narrative as if her eyes had been the camera. He attached the photos and waited while his email application loaded them. For those brief moments he wondered about showing off like that. It was bad enough that he had spent a fortune on private shows with her, whacking off to the sight of her masturbating for him. Would she like what she saw? Would she think of him like the hundred other guys who had probably sent her pictures of their dicks? Then his email program chimed and it was time to send his message. Ricky hadn't felt this nervous since asking Mary Jo Hunsaker to the Junior High prom. His heart was pacing quickly, his palms were sweaty, his mouth was dry.

"Here goes nothing," he said aloud and took a deep breath.

Part 4

'It's been a long, long day at the good old Bailey Brothers Savings and Loan,' Kellie Andrews thought as she opened up her apartment and stepped inside. It was a beautiful spring day and two of the other tellers had called in sick with a mysterious malady. That only made it worse for those who hadn't and had to deal with an unforgiving flow of customers while being teased by the unrelenting sunshine.

Stripping off her jacket and blouse and skirt, Kellie lounged in her sinfully brief bra and panties while she cooked dinner. After a second glass of wine, she went into her room and turned on her laptop. What was this? Amidst emails from a couple of her college friends and an online shopping alert from a favorite web store, was an email from HandsomePrince. She could see that there was an attachment and she eagerly clicked through to read and view. His narrative was cute and sweet and the thumbnails looked yummy. But when she clicked on the first pic to blow it up to full size, Kellie gasped.

"Oh, my god!" she exclaimed, slapping a hand across her mouth. "Jesus Fucking Christ!"

Showing off a deeply sexy and appealing grin was Ricky Pratt, the advertising guy from down the hall, the very same guy who was dating her best friend. There was no mistaking the dimples, the wavy hair, the sterling green eyes, the strong chin, the broad muscular shoulders. When she clicked on the fully nude shot, she gasped again and her jaw dropped open. He had the hugest, thickest, longest cock she had ever seen. Milan was right! Ever since first logging onto Live Girls Now!!! she had been deluged with pics that guys had sent her. She had filed them away but never looked at them a second time. In all honesty, they all looked pretty much the same, circumcised or not, fully erect or flaccid, glistening with precum or having just expended their load of cum all over a Penthouse centerfold, their cocks all pretty much looked alike to her. She had found much more variety among the face pictures she received.

But this cock was different. When her trembling finger scrolled her mouse to zoom in on the high quality pic, she could easily make out every detail from the rosy mushroomed head to the throbbing veins, and the full heavy balls underneath. This was the throbbing cock that he stroked while she performed for him. This was the beautiful cock she had dreamed about violating her wet willing pussy and ass. These were the full balls that sent their jism spurting all over his keyboard and monitor. And they all belonged to the man that Milan Sanchez had bragged about. Then Kellie panned up to his face. It was Ricky Pratt, no doubt, her HandsomePrince, the shamelessly romantic man of her dreams.

It took several minutes for her shock to wear off and then the questions started pouring into her mind. Despite his superficial self-absorbed persona, Ricky seemed like a pretty smart guy. How could he possibly not have figured out who she was? He had seen her often enough, up close and personal even. Admittedly, she had never dressed really sexy when going out in public, but her hair, her eyes, her figure. Surely something must have given him some sort of clue.

But then, even if he hadn't figured out her real identity, what would he think of her if he ever did? Now that she had his pic and knew who he was, what should she do if he logged into her room again? And she knew he would. If she logged on again.

Then another thought struck Kellie. What if he really does know whom she is and is just playing around with her? Maybe this has been some kind of sick joke he's been playing on her, the intense romantic visits and emails, the deepening feelings he professed, his progressively more provocative requests. But if that was so, then wouldn't he have sent a different picture? Wouldn't he have sent a pic of some other guy, just to lead her on further?

And what about Milan? From what Milan had told her they were apparently dating frequently and having sex. Was he simply confirming her low opinion of him, that he was just like every other guy, looking to get off in any way that was convenient with as many women as possible? Kellie shivered. Her heart and mind were torn, between wanting to believe in his innocence while her suspicious mind was telling her that he was a dog, just like every other guy she knew.

Then she looked at his pictures again, his handsome face, his nicely sculpted body, his long thick erect cock. Like a perverse instinct her hand dropped between her legs and her fingers found their way underneath her panties. She was dripping wet. While she looked at his pictures and her fingers grazed over her pussy, Kellie could feel her nipples grow hard and press out against her bra.

All of the stupid questions faded as Kellie concentrated on the pictures and imagined him with her. She peeled the cups of her bra away and began to play with her nipples. Her breathing grew hot and shallow. She gazed luridly at his images, his cock all stiff and erect, and she wanted to feel that fantastic cock inside her. Without thinking she reached for Mr. Flesh and brought it up to the crotch of her panties. She didn't waste any time; she needed him inside her and pulled the lace panel aside and worked the long life-like cock up inside her overheated sex.

She lay on her back, her knees up and legs spread apart, her head leaning over to the side as she gazed upon his pictures, grinding the dildo in and out of her dripping cunt. She knew that she was making noise, breathless sighs, loud raging moans, wild wanton screams. Lord knows what her neighbors might be thinking as she came hard and violently. 'Fuck me, Handsome! Fuck me hard, Handsome! Fuck me, Handsome Ricky!'

Kellie was so spent that she didn't have the energy to log onto her room that evening. She managed to send a brief reply to HandsomePrince thanking him for the great pictures. Later when she undressed for bed and crawled between the sheets, she felt confused. Thinking about this made her feel weary and she soon fell asleep.

The next day Kellie felt like she was a dream-walking zombie. She didn't know what to think or do and just went through the motions. She kept wrestling with the conflicting thoughts that were ricocheting inside her head. Was he really gentle and romantic, or was he playing her for a fool? Should she ignore him or should she confront him? Then in the afternoon, when she least expected, she looked up to see Ricky Pratt standing at her window.

"Hi," he said with that deadly handsome smile, one that instantly reminded her of his pictures. Even as he stood before her in a sharp tailored suit and tie, the image of him fully naked with his gorgeous hard-on flashed through her mind. She gave out with a totally inappropriate laugh. "Um it's just a little deposit, I know," he said smiling sheepishly.

"Oh, yeah. Right. Just a little deposit into the old Bailey Brothers Savings and Loan."

Ricky chuckled absently. Kellie took his deposit slip and the check and processed the transaction without looking back at him again. Of all days! It must be a joke! A fucking setup! The bastard must have known that she had received his pictures. When she slipped the cash back out through the window, Kellie chanced another glance at his face. There was nothing discernable about his expression, nothing smug or demeaning, just a soft pleasant smile. Kellie felt a tendril of hair slip free of its pin and brush against her temple. Without thinking she brushed it away and then froze as he looked at her strangely. Ricky cocked his head to the side, like a dog seeing something it didn't quite understand. For some reason this emboldened her enough to divert his attention.

"So um, how are things going with Milan?" she asked, trying to sound vaguely interested and friendly.

"Pretty good, I guess. We're going out again tonight, the last night before she leaves on her trip to Japan."

"Good luck with that," she said, suddenly wanting him to leave.

"Say, there's something I've been meaning to tell you," he said haltingly. He confidently stuffed his hands into his pockets and stood up straight.

"What's that?" Kellie said quaking with fear, bracing herself for the humiliating, debasing bomb he was about to drop.

"I um, never thanked you for introducing us. Milan and me. That was really sweet of you. A lot of other girls wouldn't have done that, but you did."

"Y-yes, I did."

He glanced over his shoulder and saw the line of other customers champing at the bit.

"I just wanted you to know that I appreciate that."

"So you like her?"

He didn't answer right away. His emerald green eyes shifted back and forth as if he was either making up his mind or trying to think of a safe answer. Whatever, it would be a lie.

"Yeah. She's nice. Not quite what I expected, but we seem to get along really well."

"Good. I'm really happy for the both of you. Really. Happy."

Ricky flashed his trademark smile again, the charming one that picked out his dimples and curled the edges of his mouth so appealingly. Then he turned and was gone. Kellie sighed and set herself back on autopilot. Now, she didn't even have her HandsomePrince, he belonged to the girl she had set him up with. 'God, I am such a fool!'

"Who was tha-aat?" Heather sang out from the teller window next to her.

"Just a guy who lives down the hall from me," Kellie replied blankly.

"Mmm, yummy!" Heather called over. "Are you going out with him?"

"Yeah, right. Like that's going to happen any day soon."

"Why not? He seemed to like you."

Kellie shook her head. 'He only likes the part of me that he can't see, the secret part that lies protected underneath this stiff woolen suit and behind these tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses,' she thought. She could never reveal that to him. Not now. Not ever.

* * *

Ricky Pratt stood outside Milan's apartment, patiently waiting for the door to open. He held a modest bouquet of flowers and tapped his foot gently against the plush carpet. Suddenly the door swung open and Milan appeared. She was dressed in a white lace halter-top and a little white skirt that rode low on her hips and barely made it down past her hips. Her thick blonde hair flowed sensuously around her face and swept down past her shoulders. Her perfect little boobs and the peek-a-boo effect of her lace halter competed with her sparkling dark eyes for Ricky's attention.

"Come on in," Milan said, holding the door for him.

"These are for you," Ricky said, holding out the bouquet.

"Thanks," she replied, taking the flowers. She placed her other hand on his chest, leaned toward him and planted a light kiss on his lips. "I'll be just a minute."

Ricky watched as she moved through the kitchen, set the bouquet down on the counter and then disappeared. He idled his way into her living room, checking out the sparse but expensive furnishings, all very low and modern. There was a set of top-line luggage lined up by the door and a slight musty scent in the air as if no one spent a lot of time in this place. When she returned a few moments later, he noticed nothing different about her.

They went for dinner at Rondell's just off Fifth Avenue and had drinks at a couple of nearby dance clubs. Just spotting Milan spurred the doormen into action and they opened doors or took down the velvet cordons without another question. Unlike their first date, Ricky was cautious about feeding Milan drinks. Although there were a few empty pauses in their conversation, she seemed to be having an agreeable time. They met up with several of her friends and acquaintances at the dance clubs and were soon hooked up into a large raucous party that quickly moved upstairs to the VIP room. Ricky let Milan loose to mingle with her friends and enjoyed the company of a couple of her fellow fashion models who sidled up to him and flirted outrageously. But when it was obvious that he only had eyes for her, his emerald green eyes following her tall slender silhouette around the room as she made nice with friends and associates, they kissed him oh so chicly on both cheeks and let go of him. Soon Milan always made her way back to him.

"Are you having a good time, Ricky baby?" she asked, her hands slipping around his waist and yanking his hips toward her. She frowned exaggeratedly. "You look a little bored."

"I'm not bored. This is fun," Ricky remarked. "Really. You seem to have a lot of friends."

"They're not all my friends. Most are just people who have helped me in my career or could help me... or would like to. But honey we all like to party."

"That's great. So do I."

"So let's dance, Baby," Milan squealed and took his hand.

She led him down to the pulsating dance floor full of sweaty throbbing bodies. Although the beat was hot and frenzied, Milan and Ricky moved to their own rhythm, his hands on her hips, her arms collected around his shoulders, their eyes locked together. They remained for several songs, getting jostled and bumped by the more frenetic dancers who were gradually crowding the dance floor. Finally Ricky leaned toward her ear.

"You want to get out of here?" he asked loudly, trying to be heard over the din of the soundtrack.

At first Milan didn't seem to understand. Ricky repeated his words, louder and with more emphasis, and Milan again didn't really seem to understand, shrugging demonstratively. When he shouted at the top of his lungs she finally nodded. It took forever to leave the club. Milan had to bid goodnight to everyone between the VIP room and the door. Ricky just kept shaking hands and pushing her steadily but politely toward the door.

Unlike their first date, they snuggled cozily in the cab and kissed furtively like a couple of nervous teenagers being driven home in the back seat of their parent's car. But that all changed once they were inside her apartment. Milan lingered by the door and Ricky approached her, his hand lifting to her cheek, fingers hooking around her neck, pulling her face toward his for a kiss. It wasn't a nervous, hesitant kiss. It was full of force with lots of tongue and lips and heated breath. When his hand eased down from her cheek, along her neck and down to her breast, Milan pressed her firm mound of flesh into his palm, her taut little nipple easily announcing itself through the thin lace of her halter.

They began to dance to the silent beat of their obvious lust for each other, which had been building up all evening. They shuffled their way into the living room and through the kitchen and then back out into the hall leading to the bedrooms, somehow managing to bump into every piece of furniture but not knock anything over. Their hands toured each other's body, shoulders and chest, arms and back, breast and nipple. Her fingers worked loose the buttons of his shirt, his fingers found their way up underneath her lacy halter-top. This brought a deeper more resounding moan to their kisses as their breath began to grow short and hot.

Once they were inside her bedroom, Milan backed away from Ricky toward her bed. While he slipped his shirt off his shoulders, she deftly untied her halter and stripped it off sleekly and smoothly over her head, the mirror opposite of their first encounter. While Ricky opened up and dropped his trousers, Milan unzipped and lowered her skirt. The sight of her slinky sheer pink panties produced a healthy tent in his boxers. She teased him, threatening to peel down her panties only to pull them up tightly, forming a teasing camel toe out of her fully shaven pussy. When Ricky slowly eased his boxers down, revealing his growing erection, Milan paused and looked, licking her lips before spinning around and bending over to pull her string panties down her long, long legs.

Ricky wasted no time moving to her, slipping his hands around her to cup her firm little breasts and press his throbbing member against the crack of her firm ass. He was so aroused that his cock passed straight through between her legs and the tip rubbed up against the smooth slick folds of her sex.