Duping My Haughty Neighbor

I have a neighbor in the building who has always been nice to me. We've chatted occasionally in the laundry room, or when she sees me at the store. It was just pleasant conversation, topical stuff, with only a few personal details. She would pat my arm or shoulder on occasion in just a friendly manner. And that was fine with me, as I tend to be a private person and prefer to keep details of my personal life to myself. Of course, the last couple of years have created a whole slew of things out there that make it difficult to not share personal opinions or beliefs. Still, I've tried to keep to myself as best as possible.

When the opportunity came to either get the shot, or refuse, I decided to get both of my shots. My choice, of course, and my decision. I do what I think is best for me and my life, but everyone else has free choice. I won't berate them and try to impose my opinion on them, as long as they show me the same courtesy. This neighbor of mine was very much against getting her shots, and was very vocal about that choice. Again, I didn't care either way. I just didn't want to hear about it.

Fay is her name. In her early 70's, fairly tall and slender as a rail, we had discussed the choices available. I basically told her I had decided, after looking at things from a big picture standpoint, that I was going to get my shots. For me at least, it was the right thing to do. Well, I could not have predicted the tirade that came from her, berating me for being a sheep and being duped by government hell bent on controlling the masses. It was curious coming from someone that age, as older folks have lived through times of medical breakthroughs, vaccinations against formerly common diseases and afflictions and have seen the reductions and eliminations of illnesses that sometimes ran rampant.

But again, to each his or her own. It seemed, however, that every time I saw her, this was the only topic she wanted to discuss, and I eventually got really tired of it. At work, I would just say I was busy and couldn't talk right now. At the apartment, I started doing my laundry at non traditional times, in an effort to avoid her completely. With everything going on in the world, getting rid of negativity and toxicity was a big deal, especially when trying to maintain your own sanity and well being.

At any rate, as variants continued to crop up, Fay had become noticeably unnerved on the rare occasion I saw her. While still admonishing me for my decision, you could tell she was very unsettled at what was happening. When I told her that she might want to reconsider her decision, she got very arrogant and dismissive, even to the point of being insulting. I had had enough, and told her that I wanted no further conversation in this area. She was free to make her own choices, as was I, and we both had to live with our decisions. But her attitude got under my skin, and I started thinking of ways to get her back for it.

So I planned an intricate way of retaliation that would also be pleasurable for me. I was, quite frankly, astonished at my devious nature for concocting such a scenario, but sometimes, the mind works best when there is a direct focus on an end goal to one's idea. I did some research, formulated my plan, and prepared to deliver a snippet of it to her the next time we met. I knew she had a computer and internet capability, but was not exactly a tech savvy person, so leaving clues for her to follow was paramount to this idea.

The next day, in the laundry room, she came in as I was getting my load of clothes ready for the dryer. There wasn't much talking, as I think she still resented my answer to her about getting the shot. But now was the time to spring this on her. "You know", I said casually, "I was navigating the dark web the other day, and found some interesting information regarding immunity." Her first look was one of confusion, of course. "Dark web?", she asked, puzzled. "What's that?" So, I gave her a brief explanation of what it was, but she still looked incredulous. "Well, that's ok, just look it up", I said, putting my clothes in the dryer and walking out of the laundry room.

So, one hour later, I came down to get my clothes out of the dryer. She was there as well, as if she had been waiting for me to arrive. "I did look it up", she said, "and it sounds very mysterious. How would I get on there?" I shook my head. "If you don't know what you're doing, it can be a little dangerous. I wouldn't recommend it unless you are really technically proficient", I warned, and she paled slightly. "So", she continued, "what was it you found?" I paused for dramatic purposes, frowning slightly, piquing her curiosity even further.

"Well", I offered, "I saw this paper that touched on something called transmissible immunity. Apparently, they studied 10 couples, with one of the partners having gotten the shot, and the other not getting it. Supposedly, their bedroom activities over the course of a few months caused the partner who didn't get the shot to acquire some measure of immunity, in 9 out of the 10 couples they studied. It was from a well known and respected university, but I can't find anything on the university site about it, and search engines show nothing regarding it either."

She looked amazed, and she asked which university did this study. Of course, I was happy to give her all the information to let her see for herself. I left the laundry room, smiling to myself as I exited, and waited to see if she took the bait. I went back to my apartment, put away my clothing, still smirking to myself at what kind of mind would come up with such a plan. I sat down to watch a little television, not knowing whether or not the idea I had thought up would even come to fruition. But I was hopeful, and indeed, aroused, at the possibilities.

A little over an hour later, I heard a knock on the door. Well, now, let's see if the seeds I had planted were starting to sprout. I opened the door and sure enough, it was Fay. She looked concerned, perhaps even a bit worried. I invited her to step in, so that she was at least out of the hallway. She said she had looked at the university site thoroughly, searched the web for an hour trying to find out anything, but there was nothing. I nodded. "You know", I said reassuringly, "I tried to find out more about that paper, maybe even print it off, so I could show you, but now I can't even find the original paper. I'm sorry, I wanted you to see it", I finished, apologetically.

"I have to go get my clothes from the dryer", she said in a hushed tone, "but I need to hear more about what you read. Please, I need to know more. Come upstairs in about 15 minutes. Please...", she said, her voice indicated a certain level of panic as it trailed away as she left the apartment. I nodded, assuring her that I would be there. I waited the requisite amount of time, sprucing myself up a bit to be more presentable and hopefully, more appealing. I trembled slightly at thinking about how this was playing out.

So, I knocked on her door, and she answered, hurriedly ushering me inside. We sat down on the sofa, and she pressed me for information regarding what I had found. I reiterated what I had said originally, maybe expanded a little on it, saying that the paper stated that the couples were having regular sexual contact, and of course, the results were taken after a few months of study. I again apologized, stating that I'd wished I could have maybe downloaded it, or at least taken a good screenshot. But I had zero evidence, unfortunately, and it was just my word.

She nodded vigorously. "No, no", she said, "I believe you. But, did it say what kind of...um...contact...the couples had?" I shook my head. "It didn't give any specifics", I replied, "it just said regular sexual contact. I would assume that means everything from kissing to...well...you know...everything else." She nodded again. "And, for how long again?", she asked. "Well, the study said a few months. I'm assuming this meant 3 to 4 months. Again, this was like a summary page. I'm sure there were many other pages detailing things, but I never saw them, only that one page."

She was nervous. She had been pacing back and forth, but now she sat on the sofa next to me. She was trembling slightly, as if she was trying to figure things out and not having much success, and getting more upset. "You have to help me", she said in a pleading tone. I looked decidedly confused, on purpose of course, but nodded and smiled reassuringly. "Well, if I can, I certainly will. What is it you need from me?", I asked, fairly certain I knew the answer.

She sat down next to me and put her hand on top of mine. "I don't know what to do", she said, almost in tears, now trembling even more. I put my other hand on top of hers, squeezing it gently, and slipped my arm around her shoulders. She immediately curled into me, now a little more relaxed but still trembling. "Well, as I see it, there are only two choices here. And if you don't want to get the shot, then that only really leaves one choice. Is there anyone you know that can help you with this?", I ventured, wondering if she would be bold enough to ask. She looked up at me, took her free hand, and placed it on my leg. I nodded. "Are you sure about this?", I asked, wanting to make sure there was no misunderstanding. "Yes...", she said, some hesitation in her voice, "yes, I'm sure...".

I nodded. "Well, if you are certain, then we can always get started tomorrow. I'm more than willing to help...", I said, stopping briefly to take her hand and place it on the front of my sweatpants so she could feel the stiffness between my legs. She let out a gasp and looked at me, a piercing gaze. "No, not tomorrow", she said, shaking her head, now squeezing the erection between my legs firmly. "No, I need to start today...now...right away...", she continued. "Alright then", I said.

I stood, extending my hand to hers. She took it and got up as well, and led me toward the bedroom. When we got in the room, she turned and looked at me, a somewhat embarrassed look on her face. "I'm not...a young woman...anymore", she said softly, "so I won't look 35...", she finished. I took her hand again. "It doesn't matter, honestly", I replied, "I'm sure you look wonderful", and with that, I started removing the light sweater she was wearing. I brushed her cheek with my hand, moving it to her blouse, and began the slow process of unbuttoning each one in turn from top to bottom, taking things slowly and carefully, leaving a hint of anticipation on both sides.

I removed my own shirt before finishing the process on her blouse. It fell open slightly, and I eased it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. She had a very slight and small bra on, and I moved close to her, reaching around and unfastening the clasp on the back. My arms moved up to her shoulders, sliding the straps off her shoulders and down her arms. As it fell to the floor, her breasts revealed themselves. Very small, with slightly conical shaped and rigid nipples prominently pushing themselves outward. "My goodness...", I said in a hushed tone.

She took this as a negative sign, and her hands immediately moved to cover her chest. "No, sweetie, no...you misunderstand...", I said reassuringly, gently grasping her hands and easing them downwards, "they're wonderful...exquisite...", I whispered softly to her. She blushed slightly, but let her hands drop to her sides. My hands moved to cup her breasts in my palms, and she groaned loudly, gasping as she felt my thumb and forefinger gently begin to tease each nipple in turn. "Perhaps we should shower first", I said, and she nodded her agreement. We finished undressing, and walked into the bathroom.

We spent a good 20 minutes in the shower, soaping up and washing one another. Ultimately, I stood behind her, the warm water cascading over her slender naked form, running my hands over her body, nibbling on her neck and shoulder, listening to the soft groans and cries of approval. And one hand descended down between her legs, and a gentle rubbing and fondling of the exterior turned into a finger softly rubbing her clit, to one then two fingers gently venturing inside her. She uttered a guttural grunt, spreading her stance wider to permit me better access.

What began as a slow, methodical thrusting in and out got faster and more firm, and her cries echoed in the tiled shower, finally culminating in a loud groan and her legs squeezing tightly together. I held her in place as her knees started to give out on her, and she thrashed about as I felt her vaginal muscles contract around my fingers. I kept thrusting, listening to the fervent cries coming from her, to her finally relaxing her body, leaning back into me, her breaths quick and labored.

She turned, and we began kissing, slowly at first but increasing in intensity as the moments wore on. Her arms were wrapped tightly around my shoulders. "More", she cried softly, "more...". I turned off the shower, stepping out and assisting her so she didn't lose her footing. We dried one another off, and exited, walking in a somewhat hurried pace to the bedroom where the kissing and fondling resumed in earnest. She broke the kiss, looking over my naked frame, her eyes now transfixed upon the rigid erection between my legs.

"Oh", she exclaimed softly, her hand reaching down to grasp it, "is that...is that...because of me?" I smiled at her. "Most definitely", I replied, watching her smile back, and she eased me over to the bed, where I sat down and paused. She stopped me from getting into the bed, took a deep breath, then slowly knelt down on the floor in front of me. She looked up at me, a somewhat hesitant look on her face, before turning her head away and downward, taking my erection partially in her mouth.

She began to suck slowly at first, but as I reacted favorably, she started sucking and licking harder and faster. It took a good 5 or so minutes of constant sucking and licking before she brought me to the edge. I groaned, whispering to her that I couldn't hold on any longer. She managed to suck and lick even faster, and I exploded into her mouth. She groaned, continuing to suck and lick at me, more spurts erupting as she continued. She didn't move, sucking and swallowing until there was no more. And even then, she kept licking and kissing the slowly softening shaft. It was extraordinarily pleasurable watching her do this. It was hard to believe this all came about from a concocted story.

For the next hour or so, I repeatedly pleasured her, burying my face between her legs and listening to her urgent cries as she approached and finally gave in to an intense orgasm, finding out how ticklish she was after orgasm after rapidly kissing around her pubic region, passionate body exploration, and sliding my erection inside her multiple times, feeling her tightness as I pushed myself inside, hearing her groans as my thrusts became harder, having her legs wrap around my hips as she repeatedly approached and then breached the orgasm barrier, her cries seemingly more feverish with each one.

We rested side by side afterward, when she slowly turned and curled into me. She sighed contentedly, tracing her fingers across my chest. She was breathing deeply, completely relaxed as she partially draped her arm over my stomach. "How often?", she asked again. "Well, I'm not sure", I said, looking puzzled like I was trying to remember, "It seemed to indicate regular contact, but wasn't specific. I am guessing regular means on a daily basis, or at least several times per week." She nodded. "Maybe, to be safe, it should be every day", she said flatly, looking to me for approval.

"Yes, maybe", I replied, "and depending on the day, maybe more than once per day, just to make sure. If that's the case, we need to make arrangements and keep in close contact so nothing gets missed. I will give you my phone number and email address for that purpose. During my days off work, we will have more chances to spend time together, to make sure that if we happen to miss a day, it won't affect your regimen." She nodded agreeably.

I felt a twinge of guilt about this, but only a twinge, and it didn't last very long. I started preliminary planning of all manner of activity for the next few months, knowing she would likely be receptive to any and all of it. But first, a little more playtime. I rolled over on top of her, causing her to giggle slightly, and I raised myself up so that I was now kneeling between her legs. "One thing, though", I said, trying to conceal the mischief, "I do really need to find out something first." She looked a bit puzzled. "Find out...what...?", she asked, a slightly ominous tone to her voice.

"Oh, nothing serious", I replied, taking a moment to gently pin her ankles under my legs as she relaxed at my statement. "I just need to know...", and I paused, giving her a chance to start thinking about what I could possibly want clarification on, "I need you to tell me what this feels like...", and I quickly brought my fingers down and began to run them softly and quickly across the bottom of her feet. She shrieked loudly, sitting almost bolt upright in the bed, shaking her head and trying in vain to reach me with her arms.

I continued, and, now hysterical, she collapsed back onto the bed, thrashing madly about and pleading desperately for me to stop. "Oh, no, not yet", I said, continuing with an increased fervor and pace. Her movements were completely frantic and haphazard. "You're going to be cooperative, aren't you?", I asked teasingly. "Yes", she somehow managed to shriek. "Tell the truth", I demanded, "don't lie, or I will find every spot you have and give you a tickling like you've never had in your life." She waved her hands in the air. I stopped, briefly, giving her the chance to say what I wanted to hear. "I promise, I promise...", she gasped, her breathing labored as she slowly recovered.

"Good", I said, relenting on my pinning of her ankles, "now, I think we just need to give you one more "treatment" for today...", I continued, getting up off the bed and taking her hand, bringing her to a standing position. My erection was throbbing right now, as throughout all of this, I had only cum once, and was aching for another. "I would very much like to feel your lips around me again", I said, looking at her directly. I eased her up against the wall, and gently pressed down on her shoulders. She responded by lowering herself to her knees, placing her hands on my thighs.

She started to softly lick and suck at me, but I needed a lot more, and a lot sooner. I placed my hands gently on her head, and began to thrust my hips, pushing my erection in and out of her mouth. She was taken aback a little, but gripped the sides of my legs and I continued thrusting, upping the pace as I got closer and closer. Finally, I wasn't able to contain myself any longer, and held her head in place as I spurted over and over again. "Wonderful", I said, slowly pulling out of her mouth.

For the next 4 months or so, I had her every day, varying between an hour or so of playtime, to several hours of intense activity. Gradually, I introduced some fetish, role playing and other activities she had never done. Some things brought an extreme level of arousal, like threatening to carry her naked into the hallway and lock her out of her apartment. She was extraordinarily cooperative that day, and extremely vigorous in her going down on me several times to prevent that threat from taking place.

At the end of that period, we sat in her living room, having a cup of tea. "Do...do you think it has been long enough?", she asked. I shrugged my shoulders. This was, after all, completely made up. "It probably has, but I'm no expert here. So, just to be safe, maybe we should have a weekly get together, just to make sure you are topped up, so to speak". She nodded. "Yes, yes, I agree. I want to be sure. But...", and she paused, looking a bit worried, "it was 9 out of 10. What if I'm the 10th, and it doesn't work?" "Well", I replied, "then there is no better reason to keep this up, and ramp it up if there's a concern", I said, reassuringly.