J-Bird and his Night Blind Neighbor

All characters in this story engaging in any sort of sexual activity are 18 or over. This story was written purely for entertainment purposes only, so, please, put your critical mind on pause, and simply enjoy this CFNM story of Jay Fisher, our shy virgin college student who dares himself into a naughty little adventure and Miss Carmen, his old-enough-to-be-his-mother night blind neighbor who catches him in the act.

Feedback's always welcome and I hope you enjoy this story,

-BizMe

The stage couldn't have been set more perfectly. The sky was especially dark thanks to a new moon, Aunt Sandy had turned in for some quality time with her newest boy toy (the shirtless Fabio wannabe on the cover of her latest Harlequin paperback), the Parsons across the street were out of town for the weekend, and Miss Carmen next door was holed up inside her house doing whatever she does now since getting diagnosed with something called 'night blindness.'

All summed up, it was the perfect opportunity for my long-anticipated adventure: to take a leisurely stroll around our quaint little neighborhood, au natural. Plus, it was garbage night and I had yet to take the trash cans out to the street, so there was that, too--a reason to be outside should my aunt ask later what I'd been up to.

I turned down all the inside lights, stripped down to my birthday suit, and made sure I'd left both the front and back doors unlocked in case I needed to bid a hasty retreat. Then, I silently tip-toed barefoot out the side door of the garage, careful not to rouse Aunt Sandy from her pillow time with Fabio-man.

The blacktop beneath my feet still radiated the heat it had collected from the relentless summer sun while an easy breeze from the northwest helped cool my skin. The air was thick, hot, and humid like a thunderstorm might be brewing despite the sky being almost completely clear. I could already feel beads of sweat forming on my neck and back just standing still. If it did end up storming, I was pretty sure I'd welcome it after the extreme heat we'd been having lately,

Still, the energy in the atmosphere paled in comparison to the sensual electricity thrumming in my body, knowing I was outside, completely exposed, and about to present my naked body to whatever, or whomever, might be watching from the shadows.

I hesitated at the corner of my garage, wondering if this was as good an idea as it seemed a few short moments prior. But who does it hurt? I asked myself before answering without pause, No one; that's who. And they won't really see anything anyway, even if someone is watching, right? I mean, it's pitch dark out here, there's only one streetlight all the way down at the entrance to our cul-de-sac, and it's almost ten p.m. So everyone's probably inside, either already asleep or watching TV or maybe even having sex. That last thought caused my dick to twitch.

Sex: the mystery of all mysteries to an eighteen-year-old virgin finally striking out on his own, or trying to anyway. I could barely afford the rent on the spare bedroom in my aunt's home, but I was making it work between two part-time jobs and a bit of leftover money from a small grant that I'd received for good grades.

Unfortunately, all that 'making it work' consumed just about all of my time. So... no social life, no friends, no prospects for making friends, and certainly no prospects for ending my eighteen-year-long drought when it came to anything related to s-e-x.

Truth be told, I hadn't even kissed a girl, much less experienced the pleasures of having my hard straining cock inside a girl's hot, wet pussy. I felt like such an imposter when it came to sex that I couldn't even bring myself to say words like 'cock' or 'pussy' out loud. The few times I'd tried, I'd blushed three shades of red.

That didn't stop my virginal mind from thinking of them, though, or my undipped prick from reminding me of its yearnings.

No less than three times a day I'd get slammed by some sudden and completely random raging erection. So unexpected and angry, in fact, that it would send me sprinting to the nearest bathroom in nearly a panic, simply to gain some relief.

Believe me, the embarrassment of rudely excusing myself in the middle of a lecture was nothing compared to trying to bravely ride it out 'til class was over, but instead getting called upon by professor Perky Tits O'Connor to stand up and answer a question--some stupid question about my thoughts on some class argument that I'd been too distracted to hear! Yes, I know this from personal experience but perhaps that's a story better told some other time.

At present, I was standing at the corner of my garage, not some three-hundred-seat lecture hall. I reminded myself that this wasn't Art History class; just my own garage. So, even if I did get a massive boner this time, who would be around to see it? No one, that's who. My courage was bolstered.

Having assured myself that the neighbors were all indoors, completely oblivious to my naked presence, I swallowed any remaining concerns that I might actually get caught, grabbed the handle to our trash can, and started rolling it down our driveway, pulling it behind me as my now burgeoning manhood led the way.

I'd barely rolled the can two feet before stopping. The sound of plastic wheels on concrete was so loud I worried everyone on the block would hear it.

They probably could, I realized, when I remembered so many countless times I'd heard from my bedroom the telltale sound of one of the neighbors rolling their cans out and being reminded I needed to do the same. Yet, in that moment, it seemed so much louder than usual, as if it was somehow being amplified by my nudity.

I quickly scanned the neighbors' driveways, double-checking to see if anyone else had yet to take their trash out. But the only driveway with no can at the end was the one we shared with Miss Carmen. So, taking a deep breath, I started rolling again.

Twice more I stopped, my mind playing tricks on me, making me think I'd heard noises in the night; a whisper that was just the breeze or someone talking that was just someone's TV. After the third time stopping, I had to remind myself that others could surely hear my starting and stopping and that alone might stir them to investigate. So, I finished rolling the can to the curb, turning it to face the right way toward the street before reluctantly releasing my grip on the handle like I was letting go of a security blanket.

I paused to take in the moment.

I had done it.

I was standing no less than fifty paces from the protection of my house and, except for the trash can, there was absolutely nowhere to hide. No parked cars in the vicinity. No large trunked trees or bushes anywhere close. Nothing at all but the sheer cloak of darkness itself to cover my nakedness.

I forced myself to move my hands from shielding my crotch--my very last defense--before walking, as naturally as I could, out into the street until I was standing dead center of the cul-de-sac.

I spread my arms wide like Jack and Rose on the bow of the Titanic, resisting the urge to shout "I'm flying!", knowing that wouldn't end well.

I basked in the silky sensuous touch of the breeze, wafting across my skin and teasing my nipples until they were hard with arousal. I spun in slow circles, facing one neighbor's house, then the next, as if presenting myself for their perusal and inspection, though I could never be that brave.

It was only beneath a shroud of darkness that I could find such false courage, but I relished in it nonetheless. I imagined getting caught by one of the neighbors--it wouldn't matter which--and my ever-enlivening penis lurched at the thought of it.

I imagined being ogled by my female neighbors--any of them, all of them, why not? Young or old, friendly or curmudgeonly. I imagined being ridiculed by Mr. Parsons, one of only a few men on our block, with warnings that he'd be keeping an eye on me and to stay away from his wife.

I imagined Aunt Sandy's righteous anger at my sophomoric behavior and how she would no doubt grab me by the ear with one hand and immediately spank my bare bottom with the other, not even waiting until we were back to the house, where she would continue to spank me and my cries and begging would bring delight to my neighbors.

I imagined Jenny, the Parsons' heart-throb daughter, staring at my virgin erection with such unbridled lust that she'd lick her lips at the sight of it and I would probably swoon in response.

And I imagined Miss Carmen--the bronze-skinned night-blind MILF next door--devouring my nude form with lechery in her eyes and sending a thousand thrills of arousal into my bloodstream with the way she calls me Mijo.

I was glorying in my reverie, my imagination running wild until it happened--the unthinkable--the sound of a screen door pierced the still quiet of the night!

At the sound of a creaky metal spring, stretching under tension, I froze in place, unsure at first where the obnoxious noise was coming from.

A half-second later, it dawned on me that the last thing I should be doing was just standing naked in the middle of our cul-de-sac, so I sprinted back toward my driveway, noting the sound seemed to be getting louder, the closer I got to my trash can.

Again I heard the door spring, this time being stretched out to its full limit before being let go, freeing the wooden door it was attached to slam violently against its door frame. The ferocity of the clamor made me jump with a gasp as if I'd been walking through a haunted house and someone tapped me on the shoulder. Every inch of my skin prickled with goosebumps.

When I finally zeroed in on the source of the sound, a chill went down my spine because, standing in our shared driveway, blocking the one and only path of my retreat, stood Miss Carmen, lifting the lid to her own trash can and tossing in a small bag.

Before I could put two and two together on my own, she closed the lid, leaned the can back to balance itself on its wheels, and started pulling it toward the street... directly toward me.

Again, I gasped, the rising seriousness of the situation sending new chills throughout my body. Unfortunately, this time, she heard my sharply drawn breath that bordered on a choke.

"Hola?" she called out, halting her trek in mid-stride. "Is someone there?" she called again. Her voice sounded nervous, perhaps even scared. Though she clearly couldn't see me, I could see her quite plainly, my eyes having long adjusted to the darkness.

She let go of her trash can and I could see her hand shaking and reaching into her pocket, for what I didn't know. "¿Quién está? Who's out there?" she called again and I felt guilty for causing her such worry and fear. I silently cursed when she pulled her hand from her robe, brandishing what looked like a cheap plastic flashlight, which she fumbled frantically to turn on.

I crouched lower behind my trash can, hoping against hope she wasn't about to bathe me in light. "Te suplico... I beg you..." she nearly whimpered and a knot of guilt and shame quickly formed in my gut. I nearly called out to her, if only to ease her fears until I remembered my state of undress and that calling attention to myself would probably be a mistake.

Then, as she was trying to retreat toward her house, Miss Carmen tripped on her own feet and nearly tumbled to the ground. She would have landed on her bottom if she hadn't let go of the flashlight to grab onto her trashcan. But in doing so, the fragile plastic flashlight came apart upon impact, its lens cap separated from the battery compartment lying next to it.

"Please..." she called again, her voice wavering as she felt around for the flashlight parts and tried to piece them back together. The angst of self-blame in my gut was rising every bit as quickly as her panic, my once excited cock deflating just as fast.

She righted herself back to a standing position, except she was no longer looking in my direction. The combination of her lost balance and inability to see in the darkness, left her disoriented and confused about which way she was even facing. She also seemed to be moving with a limp. Did she hurt herself?

With shaky hands, she fumbled with the flashlight parts, trying to reassemble them while calling out to the darkness. "Dime... tell me who's there..." As she wrestled with the light, she also hobbled in place, unable to put weight on her newly injured leg. She had indeed hurt herself--her ankle it seemed--and it was all my fault.

I felt like a total asshole and could take it no more. "Miss Carmen," I called out. "It's...It's me. Please don't be scared."

As if I'd jarred her with my words, she spun toward me, still bungling the cheap mess of plastic in her hands and nearly toppling over from her bum foot. "Who's there?!" she blurted, not recognizing my voice in her fright.

"Miss Carmen, it's me. It's Jay. Please don't be..."

Just then the light from her flashlight came to life and its full beam of truth was aimed directly into my eyes.

I winced and cowered, nearly in pain, as hundreds of lumens of light assaulted my retinas. "Miss Carmen! It's just me. Please!" I complained as I covered my eyes with both hands.

"J-J-Jay?" Miss Carmen eventually asked once she'd calmed enough that realization settled in. "Wh-what are you doing? You scared me half to..."

"Miss Carmen, the light! You're blinding me!" I begged, still reeling from the piercing glare on my face.

"Oh... Oh! Sorry!" she apologized, turning the light downward to the concrete of the driveway instead of my face.

"I'm sorry, Miss Carmen," I said quietly, hoping no one else in the neighborhood was riled to attention from the small fracas. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just... I was taking out the trash."

"Mijo! You almost gave me a heart attack! Why'd you no answer me? Why'd you scare me? I should take you over my knee for scaring me like this! What are you thinking?"

"I-I'm sorry."

"You should be, my little Jay-bird!"

Jay-bird? I thought. She hadn't called me Jay-bird since I was little, back when I used to play in the sprinklers with my cousins in the backyard while Aunt Sandy and Miss Carmen drank mimosas in the shade.

We stood there facing each other for what seemed like a small eternity--me still positioned strategically behind my trash can at one end of the driveway with my bare chest exposed, her at the other end barely keeping balance in her one good foot while staring into the inky darkness in my general direction.

Her words were slow to reach me as it wasn't until a few seconds later that I realized she'd threatened to take me over her knee. Immediately, a new fantasy about her that I'd never had before took form in my mind: my naked body sprawled across her lap while she spanked my bottom with her bare hands, touching me, slapping me.

The vividness of the vision sent a hot rush of blood into my dick like a flash flood in the desert. But fantasies about your neighbor who's old enough to be your mom are probably better kept secret, so, making sure I kept myself positioned directly behind my trash can, I tried to keep my current predicament secret as well.

"Um, if you want to head back in, Miss Carmen, I can take care of your trash can, too."

"Mijo, why you no answer me when I ask who is there?" No longer gripped with fear, she sounded a little bit miffed at me and refused to be dismissed so easily.

Having no answer--no good answer, at least--I remained silent.

"Jay, you no get in trouble, do you? No gangs?"

"Gangs?" I asked, unable to squelch my surprise. "Gangs? In Mayberry Heights?"

"You no make fun of me, Jay Fee-sher. I tan your hide, if you make fun of me."

"Sorry. I no make... I mean, I'm not making fun of you."

"Hmph. What are you really doing out here, Jay? Don't lie to me."

"I... I was just taking out the trash... and..."

"¡Ya! Enough! Don't treat me like this, Mijo. You're a good boy. Always a good boy. So, why you no answer me? Why do you scare me?"

I still had no explanation or excuse for not answering her so, again, I remained silent.

"Okay, fine. Don't want to talk to me? At least come here and help me. Come on, then. Ven aquí."

"No!" I blurted without thinking when she grabbed the handle of her receptacle and started leaning it to its wheels.

"No! No?" she asked, confused. "¿Por qué no?"

Okay, that was a fair question that I wasn't at all prepared to answer. "Um... I don't mind, Miss Carmen. Really. Just... you can go back inside now and... and I'll take care of it. I'm... I'm sorry, I scared you, okay? Um...please...Just go back inside."

"No, Jay," she interrupted. "You hiding something from me. You being naughty and no telling me. But you out here, so you help. I wanted to do this on my own, but I no see well with my eyes, and now my ankle hurts, too, thank you very much."

"I'm...I'm sor-"

"Stop saying sorry and come walk with me so I no fall again."

"But... um..." I couldn't think of anything to say, much less to do, knowing that I was completely naked behind my trash can while Miss Carmen was insisting that I walk alongside her. There was no way this wasn't going to end well. Then an idea struck me.

"Um, Miss Carmen? Did... did you know there's a meteor shower tonight? So, um, can you not turn your flashlight on anymore?"

"There is?" she asked skeptically. "Which one, Jay? The Perseids? The Aquariids?"

I wondered if she was making up words since I had little idea what a meteor shower even was; I'd just heard it on the news earlier that night before Aunt Tricia went to her room for the night. I sure didn't realize they had names. "Oh, um, that first one, I think?"

She seemed skeptical like maybe she was on to me. Surely, she could tell I was up to something; she just wasn't sure what.

"Um, that's what I was doing out here," I continued, hoping to 'fake it 'til you make it' as they say. "Um, I was taking out the trash and remembered the meteor shower was tonight. So, I was looking at the, uh... the thing... the meteor shower... um, in the sky."

"The Perseids, huh?"

"Sure. I mean, yeah. That's it. That's definitely the one, I think." I was trying to sound convincing but grasping at nothing. I was desperate for her to buy my story.

"Well... that is a good one," she said resignedly, conceding perhaps that my story checked out, albeit reluctantly. "I used to watch with my Manny, Dios lo tenga en su gloria," she said that last bit while gesturing the sign of the cross. "Someday, maybe I'll see them again...when I get my eyes fixed."

"Yeah, um, so... you won't turn the flashlight on again?" I asked.

Without answering, she slid the flashlight into her pocket with a huff. "Hmpf. I still think you up to something. Pero, come help me, Jay."

"Um, okay... yeah, of course," I stammered, wondering what the hell I was thinking and why I'd been so stupid to get myself into this situation in the first place. But I couldn't get out of it now. So, I tentatively stepped out from behind my trash can, desperately hoping Miss Carmen truly couldn't see anything.

I hesitated a couple of seconds to see if she'd react to my full frontal nudity--maybe she'd scream or yell or pass out from shock--but she did none of those things. In fact, she offered no indication that I'd even moved. So, I slowly took a step forward, then another, closing the distance between us until I was standing no more than an arm's length away. "Um, I'm right here, Miss Carmen."

She startled a little at my voice, apparently not even able to see my general form while I'd been approaching, much to my relief. "¡Maldita sea!," she blurted, which I remembered was some kind of mild cursing. "You scare me again!"