Minding My Welcoming Neighbor

Disclaimer: This story contains various sex acts between adults, including but not limited to adultery, interracial, and non-consensual mind-controlled sex. The story is a fantasy, and all characters are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. In real life, all non-consensual sex is immoral, illegal and not condoned by the author. All characters are 18-years old or older. All rights reserved.

It was a warm afternoon in late June as Mrs. Mathilde Newburg shakily walked home across the cul-de-sac feeling terribly vexed and profoundly disturbed.

"I-I, uh, don't understand. How can this happen?" she asked in her unsettled state, sensing the taste of semen in her mouth and knowing more of the noxious cream resided in her stomach.

"I was just being friendly and welcoming. I don't understand what happened," Mattie, as she was more commonly known, questioned tearfully, seeking solace from the adulterous actions taken in making her congenial gesture, and wondering how everything went awry.

"I never even got his name," she bemoaned, walking on unsteady legs with the warm ooze of anonymous cum occupying the fertile chamber of her pussy, making its presence felt in the crotch of her panties causing her to shrink in her shoes thinking of its source.

"How?" she asked herself again. "I love my husband, Bob. We're trying to have a baby."

* * * * *

TWO HOURS EARLIER

"Hi, I'm Mattie Newburg, welcome to the neighborhood," the chipper voice rang out after I opened the door to an unexpected knock to find the sparky, redheaded social butterfly holding a gift basket aloft in my face with home-baked cakes and other treats.

"Um, thank you, ma'am, I mean, this is very nice," I stuttered, not anticipating the gift but appreciative of the offer, just as I immediately became appreciative of the giver.

'This red hen is cute, with a sweetness about her I just gotta tap,' I thought, instantly evaluating the late-20's woman standing in my doorway unaccompanied.

You see, I'm a Minder. Well, at least, that's what I call it, and what I do with it I call Minding, as in, 'I should be minding my own business.' I'm not sure if there's a medical term for it, so I figure I can call it whatever I want, right?

It's a genetic thing skipping generations sporadically that I ended up receiving. My parents don't have the skill, nor do my two brothers and one sister, so it's just dumb luck I suppose.

Anyway, I have an unusual ability to probe minds, twist and turn them, then get them to do as I please whether they want to or not. They don't really have a choice, and often don't even understand why or how, but that's just part of the fun.

Often my 'suggested changes' stick, but sometimes they don't, and I don't know why. Admittedly, it's a limited talent, although useful when I need it. Right now, I was feeling the need a lot.

"So, I'm sort of the self-appointed, unofficial 'welcome neighbor' lady for the neighborhood," Mattie spilled enthusiastically in her naturally engaging, chatty, and to be truthful, somewhat annoying manner. "It's a nice place to live, and I just want you to feel at home and free to call on me whenever you want."

"Well now, that's the only invitation I need," I replied opaquely, eyeing Mattie closely up and down deciding her generosity was the perfect entrée to satisfying my prodigious sexual urges.

The spritely woman standing before me was average height, maybe 5'5" and probably weighed in at 110 lbs., give or take a couple. I didn't honestly know.

Truthfully, she came off as something of a busybody, but was spirited and pretty with her cutely bobbed, naturally curly, copper-toned hair pulled back in a clasp and her buoyant joie de vivre overcoming whatever few imperfections I found in her personality.

Besides that, Mattie Newburg is a lovely, well put together creature and I made up my mind immediately I wanted to see more.

"So, is everyone in Keye's Harbor so friendly, or are you the exception?" I asked politely, hoping to ingratiate myself and not scare her off with a brusque attitude.

"Oh, well, some more than others, but overall everybody gets along, and nobody feels, um, like an outsider," the classically featured bundle of energy answered, obliquely referencing the color of my skin in the predominantly white neighborhood.

"Yes, that's appreciated," I replied graciously as the only black man in this not truly mixed, upscale community.

It's true, there's an Indian couple and two Hispanic families, but the rest of the homeowner's are lily-white and, checking out Mattie, she was definitely the lily-whitest, not that I minded.

I'm 48-years-old and a successful attorney, living on my own while taking a sabbatical after selling my practice to get away and enjoy life. I landed in Keye's Harbor looking for my next adventure because it was close to the ocean and seemed tranquil.

I was still moving in, and honestly wasn't looking for recreation at that moment, but Mattie was a gift falling from the skies landing on my doorstep, so I simply couldn't resist.

"These goodies look marvelous, Mattie, did you make them yourself?" I inquired pleasantly, making small talk and engaging her sparkling green eyes directly, while at the same time delving into her mind learning her background and discovering her emotional triggers as a helpful start to my control without her sensing a thing.

Mathilde Newburg, 28, married to Bob three years ago, without children but hoping for a family soon. College grad with a useless degree in Creative Writing, of all things, and now working as an executive assistant at a local accountancy firm.

"Why yes, I did. That's so sweet of you to ask. I really do hope you enjoy them," she answered with gratitude embracing her voice at the question.

"I'm sure I will, along with the gift of your presence welcoming me to the neighborhood," I obsequiously agreed, taking the basket to place on a side table in my foyer and working my powers further to ramp up her suggestibility factor, while lowering her impulse control, moral judgment, and ability to object.

"Well, Mattie, if I may call you that, I can't imagine a more welcoming reception, but I'm curious, are these goodies available as part of your offering?" I asked boldly, staring directly at the obvious swell of two generous breasts under her simple, tailored button-down blouse making my meaning clear.

"Oh, um, I, uh, I'm sure everything you need is contained in the basket," the young wife stammered in her surprise at the inappropriateness of my question, yet she did nothing when I flicked the top button exposing a hint of the promise to come.

"I'm not sure that's true," I countered with a wink and proceeded down the front of her blouse a button at a time until reaching the untucked hem.

Mattie's eyes flitted side-to-side with befuddlement, sensing something wasn't quite right but not clear what, or how to address it.

"Yes, now I'm sure that's not true," I commented enthusiastically, parting the panels of the lightweight cotton revealing an elegant white bra adorned with a delicate daisy pattern above a toned but not overly muscular ivory white tummy centered by a cute 'innie' belly button.

My red-haired visitor stared me in the eye, possibly seeking answers to what was happening, or at least my assurance that what I was doing was acceptable.

"It's okay, Mattie, it's such a pretty bra it needs to be seen to be appreciated," I comforted in my soft baritone voice, pulling the blouse off her shoulders and down her arms, then discarding it on the sofa arm just inside my entryway.

"Of course, it's the contents that are the real prize waiting to be unwrapped," I suggested, monitoring her reaction closely before dropping my gaze notably again to the bulging tops of her alabaster breasts overflowing the modest cups of the push-up bra.

"Yes, well, they aren't for everyone's eyes," she replied defensively, implying that viewing the ample treasures was a privilege reserved for her husband.

Breathing shallowly with an irregular cadence, Mattie cast a glance to the sidewalk indicating her concern about the prying eyes of neighbors on my semi-secluded front porch.

I wasn't genuinely worried so much about nosy neighbors, although I probably should have been.

While my power isn't strong enough to project beyond ten to fifteen feet, thereby providing no protection against a distant intruder to our conversation, I found the nervous discomfort in her wandering green eyes about her public disrobing arousing enough to make it worth the risk.

"Convenient," I remarked easily, noting the front catch at the center of the two cotton cups holding the constricting contraption together.

Giving the hook a deft twist with my practiced hand releasing its hold, Mattie's splendid breasts spilled forth unencumbered to assume their glorious natural shape and size before my beaming brown eyes.

"Oh," the amiable beauty peeped her surprise but didn't otherwise object as I drew the shoulder straps down her unmoving arms to toss the bra on the sofa joining her blouse.

"Now, don't these goodies look yummy. I'll bet they're every bit as delectable as the sweetly prepared pastries in the basket," I praised delightedly, admiring her upright, pointed tits projecting prominently with an enjoyable teardrop droop but no visible sag whatsoever.

"Huh," Mattie exhaled at her nudity, causing the dense globes to shimmy slightly adding to their appeal.

"Vanilla, my favorite, and with a lovely cherry on top," I added, sticking to the sweets analogy in commenting on the pristine whiteness of her impressive jugs contrasting with the fuchsia pink nipples no larger than a quarter dotting each firm cone and set flaccid in the warm afternoon sun.

"Um, th-thank you," she murmured, her ingrained social graces dictating her expression of gratitude despite the inappropriate circumstances.

I saw the lost look just behind the married woman's bright green eyes telling me of her beleaguered mind's struggle to understand why she didn't stop me from slowly stripping her on my front porch in broad daylight and coming up empty.

Instead, she merely stood in my presence allowing a perfect stranger to admire her beautiful tits, not lifting a hand to cover herself as I reduced her protests in the same manner I reduced her clothes.

Cupping her left breast at the base, I gave a gentle squeeze of the spongy flesh, guessing Mattie to be a large C-cup and impressed by the generous mound's heft and density.

"I hope you don't mind if I sample this delicious treat?" I asked rhetorically, not waiting for an answer I'd ignore anyway.

Dipping my head to draw my tongue over the flat roseate bud, I encapsulated the entire areola between my lips to suckle the responsive tip to life before pulling on it gently with my front teeth.

"Ohhh," Mattie sighed, not with surprise, but with a baser, low tone signifying stimulus instead.

As I nursed on her swelling left nipple I took her right breast in hand to massage in similar fashion, kneading the gelatinous globe soothingly and occasionally drawing to the tip, teasingly pinching and tugging the equally rising nub as it tightened within my grip.

"Unhhh," her sigh repeated telling me her arousal was building, consuming what little free will she still possessed after I'd manipulated away every shred of mental capability she had to refuse.

"Oh yes, my favorite indeed," I remarked upon releasing the plentiful pair of grapefruit-sized tits, leaving each nipple reddened and engorged with the glint of my saliva remaining on the piqued left cherry bud.

"Mattie, you truly are a Welcoming neighbor of bountiful gifts," I offered gratefully, tracing my fingertips gingerly downward across her tender midsection arriving at the belt of her loose summer skirt made of flowing cotton.

I stared into her wondering eyes, deciphering her confused mind unknowing why as a happily married woman she was permitting a total stranger such liberties as I undid the belt and released the short zipper letting the willowy skirt drift down her tremoring legs to puddle around her ankles.

"Please?" she asked weakly, caught off-guard by her unexpected near nudity in view of her own familiar neighborhood.

A melancholy resignation filled her expressive eyes as her only form of impotent protest signaling she'd arrived at a point in her head recognizing what was happening as wrong but was simply unable to stop it due to my interference.

Mrs. Newburg's panties were modest white cotton bikini briefs with the same daisy pattern fit for a casual summer's day. They weren't overly sexy, but weren't granny panties either, with their simplicity creating a uniquely understated appeal contradictory to her bubbly, vivacious personality.

Scanning Mattie's apprehensive body top to bottom, I studied appreciatively the refined bone structure of her warm facial features balanced by friendly green eyes, the delicate frame of her meager shoulders and limbs, and the way her provoked nipples crinkled while jutting forth from her abounding pale breasts.

Lastly, I skimmed past the insubstantial panties, noting her fine legs displaying slender knees and ankles -- always a personal favorite of mine, especially when draped over my broad, black shoulders.

"Yes, yes, the Welcoming neighbor Lady most certainly is a treat," I observed hungrily, raising goosebumps across her ivory skin in the temperate weather with the licentiousness of my tone.

"Ah," she started when my exploring fingertips graced the thin panel of cotton covering her hidden mound, trailing from the edge of the waistband slowly down the curve, testing with occasional pressure to detect the plush give of her apparently natural bush.

"I like a good thatch of pussy hair, especially on a redhead," I whispered in her ear with my fingers now lightly plying the protruding petals of her dormant labia, sensing a warmth emanating from her core although her true arousal was yet to be attained.

"Let's see what we have here," I suggested, grasping the panties while gazing into her anxious face and lowering the stretched fabric effortlessly without bending.

Sweeping past the swell of each womanly hip, I let gravity take its toll with the scant cloth dropping to the concrete pavement.

Frightened Mattie Newburg, neighborhood meddler and married dynamo, now stood fully nude on my porch, unsettled by her lack of will, her lack of clothing, and praying no one passed our way finding her in the socially compromising position.

"As I'd hoped," I confirmed in looking at the matted tuft of copper-toned strands concealing her pussy, neatly trimmed at the edges resulting in an enticing nest of tangled hair.

"Please?" she meekly whispered once more when I returned my probing digits to entwine in the curls, twisting them tightly around my fingers to give a gentle tug signaling my approval.

Mattie's countenance was one absorbed with conflicting emotions stifled by my mental adjustments and helpless for expression -- fear, panic, and distress, underscored by raw sensuality, need, and desire.

"Let's take this inside," I advised, drawing her body with little resistance into the foyer and closing the door, thinking the time for public displays had passed and wary of my developing plan getting dashed by an unwanted, snooping passerby.

"You're so kind, Mrs. Newburg, bearing gifts that are so greatly appreciated, so I have a gift for you in return," I told her in a bit of a corny line, but hey, I'm a lawyer, not a poet.

With a hand on each slender shoulder I pressed downward, her legs buckling automatically so the effort was light and non-threatening. In a heartbeat, Mattie was on her knees on the plush carpet with my crotch in her face and a look of knowing doubt in her widening green eyes.

"Go ahead, you deserve it. I've got a treat of my own you'll find every bit as delicious as the lovely goodies you've made me," I encouraged egotistically, chuckling inside at the silliness of my invocation but unconcerned that she'd balk as Mattie was thoroughly under the control of her own hormones and my mental conditioning.

A hint of remaining fight was evidenced in the manner she haltingly raised her hands to my belt buckle -- a sign of her desperate desire to not do this thing and preserve the sanctity of her marriage and love for her husband.

I watched keenly the internal battle raging in her soul, knowing it was a mismatch -- a fact proven correct moments later as she lowered my shorts finding herself confronted by the bold outline of my slack cock hidden behind the micro-mesh fabric of my briefs.

The regard in my married visitor's eyes cast upon my manhood transitioned from uneasy tension to intrigued desire examining my sleeping member. It appeared to me it no longer mattered that she was kneeling naked on the floor of her new, unnamed neighbor's house as her ignoble tendencies rose to the fore and a buried carnality took over.

I said nothing, and I didn't even direct her with my mind to do what came next, letting her natural instincts control her actions, gazing intently as she reached for my soft tube of fuck meat to compress gently between her thumb and forefinger.

"Oh," she yipped as it twitched suddenly in response, stirring with an inkling of life at the pleasant touch of her forbidden grip on its perceptive contours.

Mattie's eyes rose to mine in curiosity, then lowered again as her hands pulled at the front of my briefs to drag them down, springing my awakening cock to flop before her face.

"Ahh," she reflexively gasped at its appearance.

In fairness, I'm not so frighteningly large as to scare the crap out of women spying my limp prick for the first time, but no one's calling me tiny either. I'm eight inches and impressively thick when fully hard, which I wasn't now, but was in the opening stages of becoming.

It may just be me, or maybe my own ingrown biases, but I think what really got my white Welcoming neighbor Lady's attention is how dark I am, with my ebony length dangling mere inches from her pink lips, the same color as her fuchsia nipples.

I'm sure in her sheltered existence Mrs. Newburg's never seen anything like it, and even I admit the contrast between my swarthy skin and her alabaster complexion was striking, especially when placed in such proximity, although I expected to get even closer momentarily.

Mattie gulped openly, then bit her bottom lip with a sign of arousal at her coming 'treat,' as I called it.

Truthfully, I wasn't sure what to expect in her approach. I suppose I assumed she'd take my heavy meat into her hand to stroke to its full rigid measure as so commonly done by women facing a daunting task.

My energetic new neighbor surprised me, however, extending her moist tongue to tenuously touch the tip of my bobbing cockhead, sparking a reactive pulse in my growing staff.

"Chocolate is as tasty as vanilla," I offered in one last allusion to the sweet treats word game I'd been playing. "You just need to work to get your reward, but I promise it's worth the effort."

A questioning look of trepidation and bewilderment overcame Mattie's face, and it was clear she didn't want to perform the act she was undertaking and didn't understand what was compelling her to do so.

That wasn't enough to overcome my power, and while I didn't control her immediate actions, I did manage the mechanisms blocking her inherent sense of decency and fidelity from preventing their completion.

Dropping her thin lips below my now semi-hard crown, inadvertently staring straight into my excited eyes by way of the position, Mattie's mouth opened as wide as possible and surrounded my expanding knob to the flared rim with impressive dexterity.