Lust's Price Ch. 03

Amy listened to the drone of music in her ears as her skin prickled under the hot sun. She pulled at her bikini top, trying to get as much of her meager cleavage in the sun as she could. The heat felt good on her skin. Drops of sweat ran down her back and slid onto the lounge chair underneath her. As much as she hated the idea of tanning beds, she loved being outside in the fresh air. If she had to be stuck at her parents house for the summer, at least she could work on her tan.

"Morning!" a voice called from across the fence, cutting through the drone of her music.

Instinctively, Amy went to cover herself, accustomed to sunbathing in the nude at her top floor apartment at school and shocked to hear a voice in such a vulnerable state. Even in the bikini, she was fairly exposed in the backyard. "Mr. Myer?" she asked, looking at the handsome face leaning over the fence. She hadn't seen him since she'd left for college two years earlier. He looked different, though she couldn't place exactly why. His face was fuller, perhaps, or maybe it the confidence in his smile. Either way, she was concerned that he'd been leering at her over the fence for longer than she had known.

"Please, Amy, call me Greg. I was wondering if your mom and dad were home?"

Amy was flustered. When she had been the Myer's babysitter, she'd often thought of Greg looking at her inappropriately. He'd never done anything, but Amy had felt his lingering eye. "No, actually, they went into town to do some shopping."

Greg frowned. "Oh, well, I'll try to catch them later. You can let them know though, Victoria and I would like to have them over for a little dinner party. You're welcome to come as well, but I can't imagine it would be much fun for a girl like you."

"A girl like me?"

"Sure, you probably want to be off spending time with your friends. Not listening to your parents and two other old farts talk about their jobs." Greg moved slightly away from the fence. Sitting up, Amy could see his full body. He wasn't the hunched and pasty man she remembered, but broad shouldered and handsome. "Let them know I asked about them, won't you?"

"Ok, Mr. Myers."

"Please, it's Greg!"

She heard the back door of the Myer's house open and shut. Amy shrugged and made a mental note to mention it to her parents later. The Myers had never been particularly friendly with her parents while she'd lived at home, but she'd been gone for a while. Maybe they'd started a friendship over empty nest syndrome since the Myer's daughter was about to leave for college as well. She thought it might be good for her parents to expand their social circles a little. Amy rolled over to her back and untied the bikini. She also tugged down her bottoms a little, wanting to get as much sun on her ass as she could. She had other things on her mind, after all.

Amy didn't leave the backyard until almost noon. Her skin had not burned, but it had an singed feeling to it that was unpleasant enough to be noticeable. She took a long, cold shower to wash away the sweat and lotion and confined herself to her room to apply the rest of her makeup. All the while, her phone dinged with messages from her boyfriend, Sam. He was stopping in town in the middle of a road trip to visit her. She knew this was her last chance to seal the deal with him. She liked Sam, but he'd been hesitant to advance their physical relationship and college romances rarely survived a full summer apart. She picked out the perfect top and a pair of jean shorts she could barely fit in. They expertly showed off her ass. As she examined herself in the mirror, she thought of Sam peeling her out of those tiny shorts while his hands moved up her bare stomach.

Her mind inexplicably turned to Greg again. She'd never found him remotely attractive until that morning. Sam was nice, but his body was that of a college boy, still a bit thin and wiry, not a full grown man. For a brief moment, Amy imagined what it would be like to have Greg Myer hovering over her, bare chested, his masculine hands squeezing her firm little tits. Her stomach fluttered at the idea. As quickly as the thought intruded, it dissipated into concerns about a possible blemish cropping up on her chin.

Amy spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around the house, texting her friends, and watching television. When her parents returned, they asked about her day. She intentionally did not mention seeing Greg morning. His voice continued to lilt in her head and visions of him danced before her eyes in moments of unwanted thought. She felt that telling her parents about his benign invitation to a dinner party was some kind of intrusion of privacy. He'd seen her hot and glistening with sweat in the morning sun. The more she thought about it, the more sure she became that his eyes had been filled with lust for her young, supple body. She hoped it frustrated him, and she hoped that her own frustrations would be evident to her boyfriend.

She had an early bite to eat with her parents before Sam arrived to pick her up. After thwarting her parents attempts to meet him, she hopped into his car, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and cast a lingering eye on the Myer house as they drove away.

***

Sam opened the car door for her as they left the restaurant. They spent dinner gossiping about mutual acquaintances from college, movies they'd seen, and nonsense they'd read on Twitter. Amy didn't eat. She ordered an appetizer that she nibbled at, but mostly she watched Sam eat. He apologized for his hunger, but he'd been in the car most of the day and hadn't had an opportunity for lunch. Amy smiled at him and called it cute, but the way he woofed down his meal seemed childish. He constantly wiped his mouth and even dripped some sauce on his shirt. Amy tried to not let it bother her.

Amy watched her boyfriend walk around and get in the driver's seat. He looks so frail. So small. Are all the guys at school like that? Have I been surrounded by them for all this time and not noticed? She couldn't put her finger on it exactly, but something about Sam lacked the gravity she so desperately wanted in a man. Still, she had her goal for the night. As they started to drive, she reached over and put her hand on his inner thigh. Sam squirmed uncomfortably. They'd made out before, and in a deep, drunken haze their kissing had progressed to heavy petting. She tried to remember what his hands felt like on her breasts, but looking at them gripping the steering wheel, they looked small and probably clammy. How could I be dating this guy? He eats like an overgrown infant and has the body of a pimply teenager. A faint ache in her core let her put aside those concerns. Amy had not had sex in four months, three of which had been with Sam. She did not consider herself a sexually aggressive person, but she also couldn't deny how horny she'd become over the past month.

"Hey, Sam, there's a nice spot over on that hill where I used to hang out as a teenager. It could be nice to go to and talk."

Sam looked a little wary. "Ok, where do I turn?"

Amy gave him directions up a little dirt road through a small copse of trees which broke at the top of a hill. As promised, it was an ideal spot to look out over the town. Sam turned the car around and backed it up to the top of the hill. They climbed out and went to the back of the car. Sam opened the hatch, and they took seats beside one another in the relatively spacious cargo area. Amy pulled down her top slightly, to better show off her chest. Sam swung his legs as he looked at his phone. "Sam, it's pretty private up here, don't you think?"

"I guess. How'd you find this place anyway?"

"We used to drive around a lot as teenagers. Figured out that no one comes up here after dark. Meant we could get away with pretty much anything."

Sam didn't respond, instead he held up a picture of a cat that he found amusing. Amy put her hand on his thigh once again, and he put down his phone. He leaned in and kissed her. It was sloppy and wet. Amy tried to recall the last time they'd made out, but it was difficult because they usually only saw one another after being out drinking for a while. Their kiss goodbye at the end of the semester had been a friendly peck on the lips, not a full kiss. Amy had expected to feel attracted to him. She had wanted to lose herself in the touch of his lips on hers. She wanted to feel his strength as his arms wrapped around her body. Instead, she received a clumsy, wet kiss. As she moved her hand up to his crotch, Sam squirmed away and broke the kiss.

"Something wrong?" she asked, barely managing to hide her impatience.

"Look, Amy, I know you probably want our relationship to go to the next level. Physically, that is, but if it's ok, I'd like to wait."

Amy failed to hide her disbelief as she choked back a laugh. "We have been waiting. We've been dating for months and other than fooling around a little, you've barely touched me."

Sam's cheeks were red. "I like you, Amy, but I think it's important that we save that moment until we're both ready."

"Are you fucking serious?" Amy didn't care about the hurt look on his face. She went to the gym, spent hours in the sun, picked out the perfect clothes, and he was turning her down. "You don't want to have sex with me? Right now. That's what I want, Sam. I like you. I want you to throw me in the back of your car and screw me until my toes curl. And you're telling me you want to wait for that?"

"Can't we talk about this? More calmly?" He stood up and walked away from the car.

In the rising moonlight, Amy saw him for what he was. She'd ignored most of the issues over the past few months. Having a boyfriend was comfortable. She liked spending time with him. But this wasn't a man who could take care of her or love her or even work up the courage to fuck her. She guessed at his reasons, maybe religion, maybe nerves and inexperience, or maybe some deep rooted issues with intimacy. Whatever it was, she didn't care. She wasn't a martyr and had no obligation to spend her time fixing Sam for the next woman in line. Her boyfriend was an overgrown child that couldn't satisfy her. "Let's go."

"Wait! Please, let's talk."

"I don't want to talk, Sam. We're done. It's summer, we're not gonna see each other for a while anyway. It was dumb to try and keep this going. Please, drive me home."

***

The ride back to her house was awkward. Sam made a few more appeals to having a discussion about their emotions. Amy quickly dismissed them. He promised to text her once she'd calmed down. While insulted at the idea that she was not calm, Amy let it go and deleted his number from her phone as he came to stop in front of her house. She said goodbye. He got out the car to give her a hug, but she left him standing, quite sadly, on the side of the street. Once she was out of sight, he climbed back into his car and drove away. By the time he reached the end of the street, he was wiping his tears on the steering wheel.

Darkness greeted her as she stepped inside the house. Amy moved through to the kitchen and found a note from her parents. They'd gone into town to see a movie. She shrugged. On one level, she wanted to talk to her mother about the breakup, if only to have someone with whom to argue. On the other, she was glad to be alone. She went up to her room and retrieved a pack of cigarettes from her luggage. She only smoked when stressed, or at least that's what she told herself. Not wanting to fill the house with the stink of it, she went out to the backyard. After the click of the lighter and the first drag of smoke into her lungs, she noticed a glow of red light coming from the other side of the fence. Going over, she peeked through the slats to see the shadowed form of Greg Myer sitting in a patio chair around the dying embers of a pit fire. She called out to him, "Mr. Myer?"

"Amy?" He stood and walked over. "Everything all right?"

"Sure, I was just surprised someone else was out. Where's Mrs. Myer?"

"She and Emily are in town, shopping. Girls night out kind of thing. Say, you have another one of those?" Amy pulled the pack of cigarettes from her pocket and handed it over the fence. In the darkness, his hand brushed her fingertips as he pulled the pack from her grip. He lit a cigarette and passed it back. The flame briefly illuminated his face. Amy's stomach fluttered for reasons she didn't understand. "Thanks. Haven't had one of these in years." Greg took another long drag. "I saw you ride off with some kid earlier. Boyfriend?"

"Former. I broke up with him tonight."

"Poor bastard. Doesn't know what he's missing, right?" Again, her stomach fluttered. "Do you need to talk about it?"

She didn't. Instead, she answered, "Maybe."

"Come on, hop over."

"I can't jump over that," she said, looking at the fence.

"Put your hands on the edge and push your body up, I'll take care of the rest." He clapped his hands together, the cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth. Amy put her own cigarette out and shook her hands, trying to push back a growing feeling of anxiety. She looked at the fence, thought about going around to the front, but then grabbed the edge and pushed up as hard as she could. Immediately, strong hands grabbed hold of her and lifted her up and over. Greg gently placed her down on the other side. She leaned in close to him, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body. He backed away and took the cigarette back into his hand. "See. Easy peasy. Come on, have a seat."

She followed him over to the small patio area. They sat down, and Greg took one last pull from the cigarette before tossing it into the embers. "I don't remember this being back here when I babysat for you."

"Recent addition. Pretty simple actually. Just have to dig the little hole, brick it up, and you've got a nice centerpiece. It was Victoria's idea. So what went wrong with the boy?"

Amy smiled and leaned back into the chair. Her top pulled up and revealed her midriff, but it was dark so she didn't bother to correct it. "Boy was the problem. He didn't act like the kind of man I'm interested in."

"Don't be too hard on him. Guys that age are right between being a full adult and still acting like teenagers. People always say girls mature faster. You've certainly matured nicely."

Amy knew that this should alarm her, but this wasn't the Greg Myer that she'd known her whole life. This was a swarthy, handsome man who had brought her over to talk about her problems. Something about him drew her in. "Thanks, I guess. That's a weird thing to say."

"I don't think so. Society has so many taboos about young women. You're an adult, you look like an adult, and you should be spoken to like an adult. If I meet a beautiful woman, I let her know. Especially, if I'm attracted to her."

"You're attracted to me?"

"Of course."

The moment hung between them. Amy didn't feel awkward, a fact that preoccupied her. The tension that should exist between the middle aged, married neighbor and the girl next door was absent. In its place, she could feel desire growing inside of her. All of the frustration built up from months with Sam remained inside of her waiting to be exploited. She decided to call Greg's bluff. "What are you going to do about it?"

"What would you like?"

"If I asked for you to take me inside and show me what it's like to be a real woman, would you do that?"

"I would love to." His voice was warm and calm. The soothing baritone rippled through her with confidence.

"What about your wife?"

"She would only be jealous that I got to you first." He finally broke into a leering grin. "Tell you what, I'm going to go inside and get a beer. If you feel like scratching that itch, you come inside and find me in the kitchen. Otherwise, I'll come back, we'll have a nice chat, and then you'll go home."

He rose and went in the back door. Lights clicked on in the kitchen. Amy bounced her leg up and down nervously. Part of her wanted to get out. As she thought more closely on the idea of Greg, she sensed something was very wrong. He was dangerous and terrifying in a way she didn't understand. While they spoke in the dark, she could hear his voice, but she couldn't exactly remember his face. The more she tried, the more she thought it was all a mask. Still, her body burned with desire. She'd felt his strength first hand. She could only imagine what it would feel like to be with an experienced man. She made her choice. She stood and went inside.

Greg had taken off his shirt, or maybe he'd not been wearing one all along. His bare, muscular chest rose and fell calmly as he leaned against the sink in the kitchen. He smiled deviously as Amy walked into the room. She started to speak, but he put a finger to her lips and silenced her. His hand raked along her cheek, moving down to her neck. His fingers wrapped gently around her throat, each digit searing her skin as he caressed her. She looked up into his eyes as his lips lowered to hers. They kissed, long and sensual. His tongue probed into her mouth gently. Her's met his a little too eagerly. Greg's hands moved down over her shoulders as her own rose up to feel the washboard rigidity of his stomach. She moved her touch up his sides and across his wide back. His skin was smooth, hard, and warm to the touch.

He broke their kiss as his lips moved to her ear. "What do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me," she whispered back, breathlessly. "Fuck me like you fuck your wife."

Greg growled. He spun her around and pushed her over to the kitchen island. Amy immediately pushed her ass back against him. His hands moved down to squeeze her hips, his thumbs pushing into her ass cheeks. "I fuck my wife bent over in the kitchen till she squeals." He yanked hard on her shorts, popping the button and zipper and dragging them down her legs. Her tanned buttocks wiggled free, the flesh tone contrasting with a bright pink thong. Amy's breath was ragged and hurried. She ached with emptiness and wanted nothing more than for her neighbor to fill her up.

Eager to show her own excitement, she turned around and dropped to her knees. Greg wore a pair of basketball shorts, but not for long. She tugged them down and pulled away his boxers as well. She gasped at the sight of his naked cock. It stood up, bigger than any cock she'd ever seen by three or more inches. It was thicker around than she thought possible, and it oozed precum from the tip. Greg looked down at her with a satisfied smile, and she knew one of his fantasies was coming true. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and took the head of his cock into her lips. His hand moved down to the back of her head, gently pushing her forward as she struggled to get as much of him in her mouth as she could. Her hand came up to feel his heavy balls, and he grunted slightly at her touch.

He pulled her away and lifted her to her feet. With no effort, he picked her up and put her on the kitchen counter. She spread her legs invitingly, but he pushed them back together, hooked his fingers the band of her thong, and pulled it down and off her legs. He spread her legs once more. She had groomed herself for Sam, but that fool had passed at the opportunity to taste the young, freshly shaved pussy. Amy pulled off her top, letting her meager tits come into view. Greg paused a moment to massage them, flicking his thumb across her rosy nipples, before kneeling down and pushing his tongue into the young woman's wanton snatch. Amy had never had a man go down on her before. Greg's tongue lapped eagerly at her folds. It pushed briefly inside of her before sliding up her slit once again. With each lick, it seemed to get longer, but she couldn't truly tell. The constant rhythm of it drove her wild. Her legs closed around his head as her body shook with pleasure. As quickly as he had begun, he stopped and pulled away.