My Neighbor Barry

"Absolutely," he replied, extending his arms so he could take my little body into him and press it tight.

I wrapped my arms around the back of his head and slowly kissed his jawline as I melted into him and his touch. I whispered huskily, "What's your favorite part about this little body of mine, Barry?"

He paused. "That's a hard question. Should I start at the bottom or the top?"

I giggled girlishly. "Let's say...bottom!"

"Alright. Well, let's see...I guess if we're starting, we'll start at the very bottom. You have very pretty feet."

"You like my feet?"

"Yes. I don't like feet normally either, but yours are so slender and feminine. They're smooth and soft on top, and I don't know how, but that arch of yours is quite sexy." I giggled, thinking if I'd ever paid attention to my own feet like Barry had seemed to.

"Then your legs...wow. So smooth and slender, yet with some clear muscle underneath from all those runs you take. Your calves are just right: not scary strong, but appropriately defined and so fittingly slim. And your golden thighs leading to those mesmerizing hips of yours..."

"Mmhmm?" I prodded, swinging them gently back and forth across his crotch as he pressed me to his body.

"Darling, I don't know how any of the boys in your classes can do anything when you walk into a room. Or out of it either, actually. Those hips are so firm and they're just the right width. They make you look so fucking curvy and hot..."

I could tell he was getting pretty turned-on now, but every bit of me was melting as he spoke and I desperately wanted him to go on.

"Oh, you like my curves Barry? Which ones? Can you show me?" I asked in a whisper by his ear.

"These curves darling, these ones right here," he said as he ran his hands up and down from my upper back, along the length of my stretched-out body, down my prominent ribcage, along the sides of my tiny, bare waist, and finally to rest on my nice, full hips for a moment before moving back to grasp my spandex-clad ass cheeks.

"Barry! You didn't say you liked my ass too!" I goaded.

"Darling, this might be the best ass I have ever seen in all my long life."

"Aww, that's so sweet Barry. What do you like so much about it?" I asked as I continued to swing my hips.

"Where do I start? It's so firm and strong, yet with enough of that fat that every girl should have. I love how you know exactly what you're doing with it too, when you walk and your hips swing from side to side to give just that extra...something. I don't even know what. Like I just want to grab you and fuck you so hard when I see that pert ass swaying. And it's so perky...it doesn't even matter what you wear over it, it's always right there. Although of course, it does look best in the tiny shorts you have on now, or in those delicious bikini bottoms you wore yesterday..."

I laughed and kissed him on the jawline, then looked deep into his eyes. "What else Barry? What else do you like about my body?"

He drew his hands up to my narrow waist. "Suck in for a second, darling." I did and he squeezed, and I felt his hands go all the way around me, perfectly encircling my slender figure. It felt so good to be caged in his hands like that, like I was helpless and dainty and he was a big, strong man come to have his way with me.

"That's what I like. I like how small your waist looks and how small it feels in my hands. I like how toned you keep it from your running and eating habits. I like how it adds even more curve to your body than you already have. I like to run my hands up and down your smooth, tanned skin...like this...and poke deep into your little belly button...you know, I've always thought you'd look incredible with a little belly button ring. You have exactly the stomach for it. I'll pay for it myself if you like."

I laughed again. "I had always thought about getting one..."

"You should definitely do it." He paused to look into my brown eyes for a second before continuing. "What else is there? Oh yes, the curve of your back drives me wild. Just the way you stand with it a little arched is so sexy. And I can see some of the little muscles too, and they're accentuated by the way those string bikinis you wear run right across them, just below those sexy shoulder blades you have."

"You like my shoulder blades?"

"Of course. I know you're not, like, buff, but the sinewy and slender muscles you have around them are so hot the way they are."

"Huh. I never thought about that. What else do you like?"

"I love the way your ribs push against your skin, especially when you're stretched out like this, or when you're tanning in the sun. Being anorexic isn't cute, and I don't want you to think it is, but something more than just a hint of rib is such a turn-on for me, and for you to have little obliques on top of them is so hot."

And with that he ran his hands up my inner ribcage and under the hem of my cropped t-shirt slowly and intentionally, before he grabbed the hem and pulled it over my head and off me. I put my hands back behind his head as he appreciated my slim body with slow caresses.

Then, as if he remembered the task, he moved both hands up to my breasts and cupped them firmly in both hands. "Your breasts are so soft, yet so firm and perky. And they're such a sweet little handful too. I love how you twist when I flick your nipples like that," he said as I gasped at his fleeting squeeze through my bandeau, "and they're perfect, elegant-looking breasts. You have such a fun size, all around...you're stunning in your bikinis...or in nothing at all...and you would be divine in a tight little cocktail dress... We should get you in one of those sometime, actually. Those curves of yours are just begging to be flaunted in one of those. What are your measurements, usually?"

"I'm 5'3"...like 34-22.5-36."

"What's your cup size?"

"Guess," I dared him.

He took his time kneading my breasts, of course. "B?"

"Good guess champ," I grinned.

"Another thing I like about you is your sense of humor, but that's not your body, so I guess next up is your collarbones?" he asked as he returned his hands to my waist.

"Whatever you think should be next, Barry."

"Definitely your collarbones then. They give you such a feminine, fragile look the way they're so thin and stick out. The other day you wore that bikini top with the string that went around the back of your neck...the way that string lay over your collarbones was disarmingly feminine. I love that spot."

I thought he'd go for my neck next, but he didn't.

"I haven't forgotten your arms either...you have nice, slender fingers and the size of your hands is so cute...I noticed it way before you wrapped them around my penis yesterday, but when you did that it really made me realize how tiny they are. And all the way up from your slender wrists to your shoulders is the hint of muscle underneath the perfect amount of fat; your arms and shoulders are as beautifully toned as a man could wish to have on his woman."

"I think that's the yoga," I said proudly. I was blushing at this point.

"It probably is. Keep it up," Barry said with a smile. "Although as good as they are, they don't drive me nearly as crazy as that slender, exquisite throat of yours. It's so flawless and beautiful, again in its feminine fragility. When I put my hands around your throat I have complete power over you...and what is best, I know you know and you like it. Isn't that right darling?"

"Yes," I whispered, transfixed by how horny this was making me.

"And I love the pitiful little squeaks and squeals that come out of it when I squeeze, when you know you're absolutely helpless against me. When I can feel your pulse in my hands--your life, really--and remember that you've chosen to give that complete power to me, to do whatever I want with...that's so hot. And the way you look at me when I cut off your air supply completely: your cute little mouth opens, gasping for oxygen that won't come; your cheeks get redder and redder under your dark skin; the veins pop out of your forehead; your soft brown eyes look up and slowly fade as your eyelids flutter and you cede more and more power to me...it's the hottest thing I've ever seen and you've given it to me many times in the last few days."

I was starting to drip through my spandex; I could feel it on the inside of my upper thighs as the wetness evaporated in the air conditioning. I wanted to get savagely fucked right then more than I had wanted it in my whole life.

"You have a beautiful jawline too; it's just sharp enough to really define your upper throat, but soft enough to be truly feminine. And your cheeks, just above it: your skin is almost completely free of blemishes and your color is so wonderful. I love the way your soft, dark hair falls around your face when it's down, and how it rests along your back and shoulders. And it feels so good to just pet, honestly."

We both laughed as much as our tension would allow. Barry continued: "Your mouth is lovely, especially when it's wide open and gasping for air or wrapped around my penis. The lips that frame it are so soft and gentle too...I really appreciate that they're a normal size, as if you are just 'the girl next door'. I also like how they flush when you're turned on, which seems to be all the time." He laughed again; I was too far gone to laugh.

"Your eyes are the last thing, I think. They're such a pretty brown, so soft and expressive. I love how they light up when you are talking to me, and I love how they dim down when I choke you. When you look up at me you often keep your head low, and just move your eyes up to meet mine...it's so sexy and submissive-looking when you do that, to let me see the whites of your eyes. The eyeliner you use is very subtle, but I can tell it's there and it really does a lot for you, I think."

I just kept looking at him, my heart hammering in my chest. "I'm done now," he said gently. I didn't need him to say anything more; I jumped up onto my tiptoes and rammed my lips onto his. He pulled my body tighter and tighter in his arms, one snaking around the back of my slim waist and the other lined up by my spine so he could use his hand on the back of my head to kiss me harder. It was ferocious the way I needed him. Our teeth even clashed together as we kissed. His tongue brushed mine, brushed the inside of my teeth, and I closed my lips around it tightly as if it was his dick. I raised one bare leg to snake it around the back of his as I tried to get myself inside him (or him inside me--I didn't care which and wasn't thinking clearly).

Finally his hands came up together and found their way around my tiny throat, which felt so small in his hands, and he squeezed while pushing me off of him. I could still breathe at first, up until I pushed my whole weight into his thumbs an instant later. "Darling," he said breathlessly, "let's continue this upstairs, on my bed."

I nodded meekly. "Lead the way," he ordered.

It was tough to tear myself away from him, but if I was going to be truly satisfied this is what needed to happen. I turned and nearly sprinted away, but got control of myself at the last second and took Barry by the hand, gently.

I opened his bedroom door, the place where he had locked me only two days ago to tie me down and pleasure me. He shut the door quietly and I spun around to greet him with a sexy smile and flip of my silky hair. Then I put my hands on either side of my ribcage and slowly peeled by bandeau off, exposing my perky B cup breasts to him who was at least twice my age. Then, just as deliberately, I turned my back to him, hitched my thumbs into my waistband, and began to push down, slowly, as I rocked my full hips from side to side, bending over deeper and deeper. Though he had seen all of my body by then, I still hadn't been naked in front of him. Then, spandex on the floor and with my entirely naked, petite body on display, I walked over to Barry (who was still leaning on the door) and knelt my vulnerable little self at his feet and gazed up at him with my most innocent look. "Please Barry, do whatever you want to my tiny little body. I don't care what it is. You have all of my power. Anything you want; I'm yours to command. Just please, please...put yourself inside me..." I whispered.

That was the ticket. He pulled me up to my feet gently, guiding me by the upper arms, but I could feel how tense he was. What he really wanted to do was throw me onto his bed from the doorway and fuck me senseless. Hell, that was what I wanted him to do too. As I stood, he stuck his right fingers past my clitoris and into my already-dripping hole while his left arm held my bare chest against his clothed one. That strong left arm is the only reason I didn't just fall over backwards...my eyes were starting to roll back in my head from his other hand and I know my mouth was wide open and panting.

Then he suddenly dipped down a little and lifted my tiny body off the floor by the groin as I collapsed desperately onto his shoulders. I think I drooled on him a little too as he carried me over to the foot of his large bed. As best he could he flung me down onto it so that I landed on my back spread-eagle.

Barry's pleasuring of me was paused for a second while he undressed and took a few strong-looking cords from one of his upper bureau drawers. "Stay still," he ordered. Quickly but sensually he looped one rope around my left ankle and tied it tight before securing it to one of the feet of the bed. He did the same for my other three limbs and it was tight enough that I couldn't move anything except my head and the region between my hips and shoulders. I could feel my ribs pressing against my soft skin, and my tiny, taut stomach caving in even more than it had been. Barry stood next to me and admired my helpless body for a moment while he ran his fingers lightly up and down me, from my collarbones over my nipples, along my ribs and down my tight midriff, to my hipbones and then back again. It tickled a little bit, but mostly it just turned me on more and more.

Finally he clambered, naked, on top of me. He still had one more string in his hands. It was really more of a ribbon actually: it looked soft and was wide and thin. Naturally he took it and looped it once around my slender throat as he straddled my stretched, thin waist with his knees on either side. I felt the touch of the head of his rock-hard penis on the soft skin of my diaphragm as he knelt down; I wanted him to put it in me so badly, but having it rest on my concave stomach felt pretty hot too.

And then, without warning, he pulled the ends of the ribbon, squeezing my slender throat from every side. My mouth flew open as I struggled for air. After a few seconds he let it loosen so I could get some more oxygen, then tightened it again. He did this over and over and over until I could no longer recover and spent all of my free-breathing time gasping and spluttering. Without a doubt my face had turned the shade of red that Barry liked so much. One last time he pulled the ribbon, tighter than he ever had before. It was so tight that I couldn't even moan--even though I would have liked to scream--when he finally put his thick penis inside me. The only thing I could do was feel my eyes bug out even more as I arched my back. When he bottomed out he dropped the ribbon and all of the blood went to my head at once...I believe I did actually pass out from the rush, but if I did it was so quick that I'm not really sure.

Barry's thrusting was slow and deep, the kind of thrusting that I love. His tempo let me feel every inch of his wonderful penis as it slid in and out of me. Oh god was that feeling nice...waves and waves of pleasure crashing down on me, threatening to drown me. I realized at one point that I was holding my own breath, letting the little fireworks pop in front of my eyes as my brain spasmed in ecstasy. Breathing again was so difficult: every fiber of my being wanted to match his rhythm, and I found myself inhaling sharply as he pulled outward until my breath locked up again, then releasing my air slowly as a dull, ultra feminine moan while he pushed back in. I don't know how Barry was able to stop himself from orgasming for so long...every minute or two my whole body tensed up as I let loose squirt after squirt around his thickness. After about ten minutes--perhaps the most mind-melting ten minutes of my entire life--Barry spoke tenderly in my ear: "I'm going to cum soon; where would you like me to put it?"

I didn't answer verbally, but rather stuck my pink tongue out as far as it would go. That would be the best place for it, since I wasn't on birth control. Barry thrust into me hard once more before he removed himself from me, and then crawled up to kneel straddling my face. Slowly he fed his dick into me, further and further. I could taste all of my own juices on him, coating his dick. He pressed it into the back of my throat and entered just the tip of my windpipe, effectively closing it off, before cumming long and hard directly down my tiny throat.

When he had recovered he got off of me, and placing one hand on my neck rubbed me to a final, soul-shattering orgasm. I lay there on his bed as he got dressed, tied down tight and stretched as far as my petite body would allow, breathing faintly. I could feel his cum traveling down inside me to my concave stomach, and I could feel my own juices covering everything between my legs and especially the bed underneath. I felt used, in the best way possible. And very, very tired.

Barry stood gazing at my slender body for a moment after he was fully dressed. I was happy to see him so pleased with me. Then, just as gently as he put them on, Barry removed my ties. I didn't hurry to stand up, nor did I hurry to put my clothes on. I honestly didn't feel the need to do any of it. The thought that maybe I could just permanently be Barry's little sex slave actually crossed my mind before I shook it out and put my skimpy outfit back on to meet him in the kitchen.

When I arrived in the kitchen I realized that for the first time in days I felt fully, completely satisfied. It was like magic, but with magic came a little bit of horror. I thought back to the morning, when my research advisor had called about the time I was taking off. I thought about how hungry I should be after how little I'd eaten the past few days, and how hungry I still wasn't. I thought about how I hadn't run or read or done yoga in days, and how I was due to call my mother again soon...and if I'd be able to handle a full conversation with her without masturbating. In a word, I felt clarity about the insanity of my situation. That morning I had cried out of frustration (sexual and otherwise); right then I felt like crying for all the things I hadn't had the drive to do. I wasn't really living, I was just hopping from orgasm to orgasm.

Barry whistled while he cooked; I sat quietly in the chair that Todd had been in when I sucked him off only an hour or so ago. And suddenly it all came together and I knew I needed guidance--someone else's help. "Barry?" I asked.

"Yes darling?"

"What's...what's happened to me? Why can't I feel hungry? I haven't been able to focus long enough to do the things I like to do for days, and I just keep having this...urge...like...like...I don't know. Will it go away? I don't want orgasms to be the only thing that defines me. You know me well enough. You know I wasn't like this even last week!" I fell silent for a moment, and then said in my weakest voice: "I'm scared, Barry. What if I need it so bad that I go to someone else and he just chokes me to death? What if I never feel like eating again and starve to death? What if they fire me from grad school because I'm incapable of doing anything without orgasming? Where is my life going?!"