My 18 Year Old Neighbor Ch. 04

Story Info
This time there's a Third Component.
6.6k words
4.69
106.1k
6

Part 4 of the 5 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 10/26/2004
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
arturo
arturo
71 Followers

Of course my sex life was never the same, how could it? Aside from the episode with the two Costa Rican girls, I had just experienced heightened sexual bliss. And don't get me wrong; sex with my wife was fantastic, and improving. Every time we made love I was overcome with the same feelings of wanting to do "it" more and more often with her.

However, there's a lot to be said about youth, and with that in mind I burned thousands of brain cells thinking about a way to get back into Nicky's low ride g-string panties. With my wife back from her business trip and life back to normal at home, it was practically impossible to have a repeat of the occurrences of that past weekend.

The weekend following the Monday my wife came back, we were invited to Nicky's commencement and reception at my next-door neighbors. The ceremony was much longer than I had hoped but the reception was fun. Nicky looked incredible. Practicing on high heels gave away her inexperience but the dress said all woman. It was a short soft yellow dress with straps holding the front end up, but the back-sloped way way down to the small of her back. The beautiful golden tan, (no-tan lines) and the flawless skin looked magnificent. She had her hair done and the make up made her look older than her years.

All afternoon we exchanged knowing glances, which made my blood boil. At one point, when I came out of the bathroom I literally bumped into Nicky at the door.

"Mr. G., I've missed you."

"And I you Nicky."

"What are YOU going to give me for my graduation?"

"Well that depends. What would you like?"

"When can I see you?"

As I looked around to make sure no one was within earshot, I said, "that's a little complicated right now. You have any ideas?"

"Mr. G., I HAVE to see you, like, (pause) really soon," she said, biting her lower lip. "I've had all kinds of funny dreams and I can't take it anymore. Please? I'm just, like, horny all the time now, you know?"

"Well, let me see what I can come up with, OK?"

With that I turned away and went back to my wife and the small group of friends that we were with.

Unfortunately, either I was too chicken or I just couldn't work it out. My kids were home for summer vacation and my wife wasn't going away ‘till October, so, basically, I was stuck without any more Nicky interludes.

The summer went by painfully slow, with me ogling Nicky in her tight little shorts running around my house whenever she came over to see the kids. Thankfully, she handled herself remarkably well. No overt insinuations in front of anybody and no touchy feely. Of course every time she could, she would say things to me that would give me an instant hard on.

For a while I thought I was destined to never have sex with Nicky again. She was leaving for college at the end of August and that would probably be that.

She left on August 27th. Obviously we could have had a quickie in the bathroom and run the risk of getting caught, but I preferred that she remember and cherish that weekend we spent together.

The days following her departure were terrible. I found myself permanently turned on, screwing my wife right and left, surfing the web, I was just a sexual mess. While I was in that turmoil, my son left Nicky's e-address on a post-it note next to the phone. I immediately wrote her and she answered back pleasantly surprised. I got her address in Washington, and decided to send her a belated graduation present.

About four days later I got the e-mail I had been waiting for…

Dear Mr. G.:

You have no idea how much I L O V E the special present you sent me. I should have gotten one years ago. When are you going to cum and see me so we can use it together?

Love, N

BOOOOM! Instant hard on.

I decided I couldn't take it anymore, I had to see her. I made up a story to my wife about a consulting gig in DC and deciding I needed a few days of r & r. I have an old college buddy in town and he and I would go see the skins play on Sunday. Perfect. I made reservations at the Four Seasons which is a hop skip and a jump away from Georgetown, and flew up Friday morning.

By the time I was settled in my room it was two o-clock. I called my little friend and….nothing. Then of course you have to wrestle with whether or not its wise to leave a message on the voice mail. I decided against it.

I went to grab some lunch, came back to the room and took a wonderful, undisturbed nap. I woke up at 6:45, well rested, and called Nicky. For her, disbelief gave way to overjoyed and we agreed to meet for dinner at Houston's, which was about five blocks away from my hotel, and three blocks away from GU.

About five minutes after I arrived, in walked Nicky. Wow! She looked stunning. She was wearing some hip hugging jeans that were cut so low I was certain her slit would show at any moment, a white blouse with those weird sleeves that are way too long and cover half the hand and some gorgeous high heels with delicate straps covering her beautiful feet. She looked good enough to eat.

We hugged for a long time, and she said that this was the absolute best surprise she had ever had in her life. I fought my way to the bar and got myself a drink and a beer for Nicky while she situated herself on a bar stool against the wall.

Unfortunately, the hour wait for a table was over way too quickly and after two drinks we were shown to our table. She ate like a typical college student. No dieting here tonight.

It was a great dinner. The conversation flowed easily, just like old friends. You might ask what in the world a 40 year old could talk about that would interest an 18 year old, or vice versa, but trust me when I tell you there wasn't a moment of silence. We spoke about my kids and the start of their school year. We shared our thoughts on devising ways to hook up over the summer and how unfruitful those thoughts had been, and laughed at the pure ridiculousness of some of them. Then we chatted about her roommate, her classes and her adjustment to college life.

When we were finished, we decided to do some bar hopping. Seeing as how she was underaged, we started at Clyde's, which had a restaurant and a bar, so they wouldn't card us at the door. Once we were in, we made our way to the bar and settled in. We ordered our drinks and just as Nicky was saying she was "moving in" to my hotel room ‘till Sunday, I heard…

"Michael??? Michael, is that you???

Now what are the chances of bumping into someone you know, 1,000 miles away from home, in a city you seldom visit, on a Friday night in a dark bar at eleven o'clock? Practically non-existent, right?

As I looked to my right there was Laura, my wife's boss (the spectacular Italian woman I mentioned in one of my earlier chapters). I always heard that she was a year younger than my wife, making her 30. She was about 5'8" with very high heels, had long black hair, gorgeous Mediterranean eyes, you know, brown in color, big and expressive, fine eye brows, perfect nose, perfect mouth revealing perfectly white teeth, I would guesstimate she was about a 34B or 34C. She was wearing a pale pink/watermelon linen jacket over the same colored dress, which came to about four inches above her stockingless-knee. The heels were incredible high and spiky and fragile-looking and her feet and toes were equally perfect. She was one of those individuals who you can tell works out to obtain tone, but has no (visible) ripples. I would say she weighed between 115 to 120.

Last I had heard she was single, dating a guy, and had no children. She was the Hemispheric Director for La Perla, probably the world's best quality intimate wear for women. Think of Victoria's Secret as the equivalent of a BIC pen and La Perla as a Mont Blanc, get it? Huge difference.

Regardless of what she looked like and where she worked, this was the last place on earth I wanted to see her, and trust me, although I tried to act cool, calm and collected, I was far from it.

"Laura, wow, it's been ahhh, ahhh, year since I last saw you, how are you?"

"Just fine Michael. I thought it was you when you walked in, but I wasn't certain until you sat down and got a good look at your face. You look fantastic as usual."

"Thanks, you look, uhhh, you look, (3 second pause), marvelous."

"Oh, you're such a sweet man. Thank you."

"Oh, uhh, Laura, this is a good friend of mine, Nicole, Nicole this is Laura."

Pleasantries were exchanged between the two.

I mentioned that Nicky had just started Georgetown and that out of pure coincidence I was in town looking at some consulting work and decided to take her out to dinner. It appeared Laura could not have cared less.

Laura mentioned that she was with a group of very boring attendees of a sales seminar and asked is she could join us, "Of course" I said.

When Laura went back to her table Nicky remarked what a beautiful woman she was and asked how I knew her (I suspect she thought Laura and I had something going), I told her she was my wife's boss. Nicky turned pale white, like milk.

"Don't worry. Remember, if we act like we're doing something wrong, she'll pick up on it; otherwise she'll just go with the flow. Think, she didn't even ask about my wife."

Which was kind of odd, but made me feel a whole lot better.

Laura came back with her purse, and I got up to give her my chair. She didn't have a drink in hand and Nicky had polished off her beer, so I decided to do the gentlemanly thing. Had Laura been American I would have ordered shots of top shelf tequila because I believe that it is the ultimate aphrodisiac, however, being with a refined Italian woman, I opted for a bottle of DP.

"Michael, wow, do we mean that much to you?"

"Absolutely, you only live once."

The bartender almost tripped over himself getting everything ready. He opened the bottle and poured both of them a flute full. I continued with my Belvedere on the rocks, and despite the horrible situation I found myself in, I decided to see it through as best I could. The old saying goes, "When rape is inevitable, just lay back and enjoy it."

Laura and Nicky hit it off perfectly. Unlike Nicky's mom, Laura was what many college girls aspired to. I learned that night that Laura had graduated from La Sorbonne and had a master's degree from Kellogg, which Perla had paid for. She went back to Italy after her studies for one year, and was then transferred to the US head office. Two years later, she was promoted to overseeing all sales in Canada, US, Latin America and the Caribbean. Plus, in a male oriented corporate world, the company she worked for was primarily tailored towards class "A" women.

Nicky of course had never heard of the company. In fact, she thought Victoria's Secret was pretty much "it".

"Nonsense. Here, this is my card. E-mail me your address and I'll send you some samples, on one condition….you write me and let me know what you think, OK?."

"Really!?"

"Really."

Than they started talking about what her friends wear, brands, colors, cut, etc. etc. I was fascinated. It's great to hear what other girls wear.

They basically talked shop for a good twenty minutes and then Laura excused herself to go to the restroom, and Nicky volunteered to accompany her. Typical.

The bartender filled up the flutes and I ordered another bottle, and had him open it before they got back.

When they returned Laura asked about my work and I assured her that it was nowhere as exciting as hers. Both of them almost fell over laughing.

We then spoke about college life at La Sorbonne.

"Nicole, or, may I call you Nicky as Michael does?"

"Ohh, yes, please, call me Nicky."

"Listen, you're obviously a stunningly beautiful young lady. If you weren't in college I'd be sending your picture to our ad agency so they would look at you. Anyway, I have a pretty good level of self-esteem. How ever much I think of myself though, I assure you I was never at a bar sipping Don Perignon in Paris as the guest of this wonderful example of the male species."

With that, I blushed.

"Ohh look how cute, we made him blush," Laura said as she playfully hugged me.

Nicky was just laughing away now, obviously buzzing on the four beers and champagne.

Laura shared with us what it was like to be away from her country (not just her home) at the age of 17 competing in a foreign language at a very prestigious university.

"Did you like the French?", I asked.

"Well, their pretty good in the kitchen and awful in the bathroom," she said as she held her nose, "you know?"

All of us laughed, and then I mentioned my dislike for them after the whole Iraqi situation, and I added how much I love the Italians and their country.

"Ohhh, you're so sweet," she said, hugging me once more.

As the conversation continued I started thinking about how this night was going to end. I had drank a lot. I wasn't drunk, but I could feel the effects of God knows how many drinks flowing through my body. Laura was well on her way to being completely drunk. She's usually this prim and proper high faluting exec that never lets her guard down. If you looked at her at that precise instant, she had already taken off her jacket and was now in her sleeveless dress, hugging Nicky and exchanging secrets with her. Nicky wasn't feeling any pain either. She was giggling at whatever Laura was telling her, and almost falling off her stool.

Before things got worse, I decided to get the check. As I was waving the bartender over, he wrung the bell and made last call. Perfect!

I paid out, helped Laura put her jacket on, and walked out to the sidewalk.

"Where to now?" asked Laura.

"Well, its already past last call in DC," replied Nicky.

"Well, then both of you are invited back to my room for a night cap," said Laura.

"Great," said Nicky.

"Michael?"

"Fantastic." What else could I say?

We walked about three blocks and entered the Georgetown Inn. It was a very nice upscale, small luxury hotel right on Wisconsin Avenue, in the heart of Georgetown. We went up to the top floor and entered her suite.

Nicky was impressed. "WOW Laura, this is awesome."

"Why thank you. Now make yourselves comfortable while I go powder my nose. Nicky, order something to eat for us and have them bring up a bottle of champagne and a bottle of whatever Michael is drinking, OK?"

"Sure."

I was in for a long sexless night with two drunken women. I was certain of it.

When Laura came back in the room she was barefoot and about four inches shorter as a result. She had shed her jacket and plopped herself down on the sofa.

Nicky was still on the phone deciding what to get until Laura asked for the phone and ordered a fruit and cheese plate, a bottle of DP and a bottle of Belvedere along with sodas and ice.

Nicky then excused herself and disappeared into the bedroom, and Laura turned the TV on and looked for a music channel, finally settling on one to her liking. As she turned up the volume, Nicky came in dancing, turned the living room lights off completely, and started dancing and singing with Laura while both of them jumped on the furniture as they mimicked the singer on the screen, collapsing onto the sofa and laughing after the song was over.

Nicky then got up, and was struggling to button the top button on her pants but just then Laura said,

"Wait, stop, I want to see what you're wearing."

"What do you mean, "What I'm wearing"?"

"Your panties, show me."

"Ohh, here." She didn't think of it twice, and tugged at her pants ‘till they were down around her ankles and she kicked them off.

There she was in, in her white blouse, and a tiny low ride powder blue g-string panty, standing in front of us as if it where the most normal thing in the world.

"God that feels soooo much better," she said, as she twirled around and modeled for us. What an ass!

"Nicky, you are absolutely beautiful, but you're wearing the wrong underwear. Now let me see the bra."

With that said, Nicky unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall behind her, exposing herself to us in a very plain bra.

"Michael, what would you say if I was able to convert our beautiful Nicole here into an even more sensuous young lady?"

"I would be all for it," I answered.

"Fine."

Laura got up taking Nicky's hand and pulled her into the bedroom, sliding shut the double doors behind her.

Humm. Very interesting.

Just then the door sounded and I went to let the room service guy in, who, after turning the lights on, rolled in with a banquet on his cart. He situated the cart next to the window, and uncovered about six different cheeses, grapes, apples, oranges, plums, strawberries, raspberries, etc. etc.

He then opened the champagne, served two flutes and poured me my drink. I signed the bill and gave him a 50.

When he left, I turned the lights back off and sat down to await my show.

I didn't wait long. About five minutes later the doors slid open and in walked Laura in some very interesting sleepwear. It was a very sheer robe that covered an equally sheer teddy underneath. Unfortunately the light from the room and the TV wasn't bright enough to allow me to see what I wanted to see. However, with the light in the backdrop, I could tell that the material was completely see-through!

While I was kicking myself for having turned off the lights, in walks Nicky. She was wearing something that looked like shorts to me, (tiny shorts) and a very nice bra that covered half of her breasts, which by the way looked succulent. The getup was tangerine colored and looked exceptional against her golden tan.

"Well Michael, what do you think of the boythong?" asked Laura.

"Boythong?"

"Yes, this" and with that she took Nicky's hand, lifted it above her head, and twirled her around so I could see that in effect, it was a cross between a thong and shorts.

"Lovely" I said.

"And the breasts?", she asked, twirling her around again, "don't they look much better?"

"They certainly do."

"Now Michael, you see a woman dressed like this in front of you, and what does it drive you to do?"

I had no idea what answer she was seeking.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said Michael. When you see this woman dressed like this standing in front of you, what desire goes through your mind?"

I'm sure she didn't want to know. In fact, I'm certain that no where in that well educated European brain of hers did she have any idea of the perverse thoughts that were running through my mind at that instant.

"Oh come now, don't be bashful Michael, we're all adults here" said Laura as she sipped from her flute and handed the other flute to Nicky. "You're a man, tell me what your instincts tell you."

I looked at Nicky straight in the eye to see if I could get a feeling for what she was thinking but she grabbed the flute and poured the champagne down her throat like it was dollar long neck night at the local watering hole.

Laura then sauntered over to the cart, pulled the champagne bottle of the ice and walked over to Nicky. She filled Nicky's flute, then her own, chugged it down, and said, "we'll be right back," and led Nicky by the hand back to the room, closing the doors behind them.

Women.

Anyway, being a typical guy, I decided to channel surf for a while, and obviously, seek porn out. Nothing doing, which was grossly unfair considering it was Friday night and at home you could always find cable porn, but just then I was illuminated…in room movies. BAM! I switched the channel, looked at the options, and selected the best title I could find, "Sorority Sisters". After walking through all the disclaimers, and waiting about a minute, and just as the title was appearing on the screen, in walks Laura, sans little robe this time, just in the see-through teddy, with Nicky in tow, who was wearing this short little camisole, completely see-through and some undies that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

arturo
arturo
71 Followers
12