Nancy the Girl Next Door Ch. 2

"I'll be right back!" were her last words as she flew out the front door and slipped across the banister that separated our front porches.

I wondered what in the hell had just happened. I'd managed to talk my young next-door neighbor into an afternoon's session of pussy-eating and fucking, and I'd even slid my cock into her mouth for a first-time blowjob; I'd shown her about three or four minutes of a porn video in which a young girl in a Catholic School uniform was being fucked by one guy in her pussy and by another in her mouth; I'd told Nancy that this was a big turn-on for a lot of men and had punctuated my remarks by growing a hard-on in my pants while we looked. And then, before I could say anything else, she had flown out the front door and disappeared. What the hell was going on? Had I gone a bit too far? Would my wife really hear about this?

Giving up on figuring it out, I walked to the kitchen to put Nancy's iced tea glass in the dishwasher and to pour myself a cold beer. I had finished almost the full glass when there was a timid little knock on the back door. I was a bit startled, but put down the beer and walked to the door to look out the pane of glass that made up the entire top half of the door.

For Christ's sake!!! Nancy was standing on the back porch! Her blonde hair was pulled to each side in short ponytails (a la Britney Spears). There were little white ribbons on each ponytail. She was wearing a simple, white cotton blouse that buttoned up the front. And covering it all was one of her daughter's green/white/gold jumpers. All the girls at the local Catholic school wore this outfit. I moved closer to the door and looked down. Sure enough, white knee socks and black patent leather MaryJanes were on her feet! She was twisting and twirling the hem of the short, pleated skirt and wrapping one toe around the back of her other foot, knee bent and wiggling. God, what an actress! For just a minute, I actually saw her daughter there and not Nancy.

Deciding to play along with her game, I opened the door and asked, "Yes? What can I do for you, little girl?"

She got the idea right away and replied, "Well, Mr. _______, I am locked out of my house because my mom had to go to a meeting and my dad is still at work and I lost my key and I don't know what to do," all in a rush of breath while still twisting and fidgeting.

"Well, come on in, Nancy dear; I think I have some milk and cookies around here somewhere. We can share them and we can talk. Would that be ok?"

"Gee, my mom and dad told me never to go into a strange man's car or house or anything. Are you a stranger?"

"No, dear, I'm not a stranger. I'm one of those older guys you can trust when you have a problem. C'mon in and we can see about those cookies and milk."

She walked into the kitchen very hesitantly and looked around before she said, "I really don't want any cookies and milk, Mr. _____; I'd really rather have you help me with my homework. Would you do that for me?"

"Of course I would, Nancy. What subject do you have to study tonight?"

"Anatomy. It's a hard course because there are all sorts of pictures to look at and remember names for parts of the body and things like that and I always get confused because I'm not allowed to stay after school for the special sessions where the other girls get to look at a model of a man and a woman to see what things really look like instead of looking at pictures."

"Well, I'll try to help, Nancy; but I'm not sure I can be of any real assistance. I don't have any models like those here at my house."

"Oh, that's OK, Mr. _____, I have an idea how we can study. Can I have a coke now? I saw them sitting on your back porch the other day and I know you have some. You get them in bottles, right? My mom says that's because you are old-fashioned and remember when all sodas came in bottles instead of cans."

I smiled at her brashness, in the game or out, and agreed that I did have some cokes in bottles and I would get her one right away. I told her to go into the family room downstairs in the basement and I'd bring one down to her. If she was going to play this game, I was going to let her take the lead and not push her at all. I wondered if she'd ever done any role-play like this before.

She disappeared down the steps and I followed a few minutes later with her coke and another beer for me. She was sitting on the edge of the pool table, swinging her legs back and forth. Her ankles were crossed and her knees were tight together, but the skirt had ridden up quite a bit when she hopped up onto the table and I could get a good look at a rather pretty expanse of thighs.

I walked over to her and handed her the coke and let my hand drop to her bare thigh after she took it and lifted it for a swallow. "Ooooh, Mr. ____ your hand is cold!"

"I'm sorry, Nancy, I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just that you are such a very pretty girl I forgot where my hand was."

"Oh, that's OK, Mr. ____, it felt good, just cold. You don't have to take it away."

I replaced my hand and stood there in front of her. I looked at her eyes and they twinkled back at me, daring me to go on with the game. I was ready if she was ready.

"Well, Nancy, perhaps we ought to think about that homework. I know your mom will be home soon and she might not like finding you over here with me alone."

"Oh, I think it will be OK. I often heard mom say that she'd like to get you alone some time, so I guess it will be OK if I'm alone with you."

I almost laughed at this comment and went on with the game.

"Now, what's the first thing you want to know about, Nancy?"

"Well, it's a little strange, but I want to know about the parts of a man's body. What they are called and stuff, you know? I can show you the pictures in the book, but somehow that's not good enough. Will you take off your clothes for me to look for real?" and she almost blushed at the thought.

"Nancy, if that is the way you need to study, then that's the way it will be. What should I take off first?" I was only wearing khakis and a polo shirt and knew she had to pick one or the other.

"Well, I've seen lots of boys and men with their shirts off, and I know what everything looks like there, so take off your pants. Will you do that?"

"Of course I will, Nancy," I replied, looking her straight in the eye. And I unbuckled the belt, unzipped the fly and let them fall around my feet, flipping them away with one foot. I stood there, semi-erect, in my jockeys. The front of my briefs was full, but not overflowing, as I was not totally hard. "Is this ok?" I asked.

"Sure, that's ok; but I don't need to see your underwear. I see my dad's all the time. I want to see what's inside."

I hooked my fingers in the waistband, pulled and bent to remove them completely and stood up, thickening more every minute or so.

She looked right at it and sucked in her breath. I stood there and didn't move a muscle. She hopped down off the table and stood right in front of me. "Gee, Mr. _____, I saw pictures of this in the Health books, but it didn't look quite like this. It was just sort of hanging there. Yours is thicker and almost standing up. Why is that, Mr. ___?"

"Well, dear, when a man is around a beautiful woman, he often gets very thick and very stiff right here." And I put my right hand under my cock and lifted it toward her. The head – thick and purple – looked directly up at her. "See, it's actually getting bigger and harder as we talk about it."

She was breathing a bit heavier now and tore her eyes away from mine to ask me, "Do you really think I'm beautiful, Mr. _____? My mom says I'm skinny and my dad calls me 'bag of bones' and I sometimes want to cry because I'm not pretty like Kristen across the street."

I reached out with my left hand and touched her cheek, murmuring, "Oh, Nancy, Nancy, little girl; you are the prettiest, sweetest thing on this whole block – maybe in your whole school. Kristen is pretty, but she is not beautiful. She is too big here…" and I touched my left hand to her right breast and pushed in just a bit to show that I knew there were swellings there.

"Oh, Mr. ____, you touched my boobies!" she gasped, but did not move away.

"Yes, I know I did, Nancy. I wanted to show you that I know you are already a woman there and they are very beautiful to me." And I gave her tiny breast a squeeze with my hand, finding the nipple – already swollen and tight – and pinched it lightly.

"Oh, Mr. _____, you make me feel funny when you touch me like that. I don't know if we should study like this any more."

"Nancy, I think we have a lot more to study before the day is over; and I want you to stop calling me Mr. _____; my name is Ed. I want you to use that. You can call me Mr. ___ when your parents are around, but when it is just us two, you will call me Ed. OK?"

She giggled like the little schoolgirl she was pretending to be and said, "OK, Ed," and giggled again.

"Now, I want you to touch me here," I said, indicating with my cock. "I want you to hold me while I teach you the names for this part."

"Oh, I know," she beamed, "that's a penis." And she wrapped her small hand around its thickening shaft and held on lightly.

"Well, only the books call it a penis, Nancy. When your teacher asks for an answer on the test, you can use 'penis' but when you talk about it with your girlfriends, you should call it something else."

"What should I call it?"

"A cock. A dick. A prick. A shaft. A rod. A fuck stick."

"A fuck stick?" and she laughed out loud. "What's a fuck stick mean?"

"Well, that is a lesson for another day. I don't think we are going to get that far today."

"Oh, yes we are!" she almost roared at me, and gave my cock a small squeeze and slid her hand up and down once or twice along the shaft.

"Well, then, I suppose I ought to explain. You see, when a man and a woman really like each other a lot, the man's cock gets real long and real hard – like mine is right now, see? And the woman's pussy gets very soft and wet."

"Pussy? The woman's pussy? What's that?" she queried with a new twinkle in her eye.

"Well, if you want to take off some of your clothes, I can show you better than I can tell you. This is a homework lesson, you know."

"Will you help me? I don't know what to take off first."

"Of course, dear. Turn around and let me help."

She turned her back to me, reluctantly releasing my cock from her hand and allowing it to spring upward into the age-old angle of readiness, and stood there looking at the pool table. I quickly, but gently pulled the zipper of her jumper down to her waist and pulled it down over her shoulders to let it drop in a pile around her ankles. Her white blouse – more like a man's shirt than a woman's blouse – hid her hips and her ass from my view. She caught her breath, but I just said, "That's just to let me get closer to the parts I want to teach you about, Nancy. Hold still, now, and don't be afraid."

"Oh, I'm not afraid, Mr. … ah, Ed; I was just surprised by the cold air on my legs in the back."

I told her to turn around and face me and she did by stepping out of the jumper and pushing it away from her feet. I reached down and unbuttoned the buttons of her white shirt-blouse, one by one, from the bottom to the top. One, two, three, four, five, six buttons – the collar button was not fastened. I let the blouse hang loose there, a small strip of skin showing between the two halves, but not showing anything yet.

"Now, Nancy, I'm going to turn you around again and drop your blouse to the floor with your jumper. Is that OK?"

She turned around by herself and helped me shrug her shoulders and arms out of the blouse and I heard it rustle against her as it fell to the floor in a heap. Now I could see that she was wearing that little white bra with an extremely tiny strap in the back – I understand that the larger the bra size, the wider the strap; and since hers was probably only a 32 or 34 A, the strap was very narrow – and another pair of panties. This time, the panties were a very pretty pale yellow, of a satiny material, and actually fit her well – tight, but not too tight. I realized that when she had gone home, she had put on all Lauren's school clothes except for the bra and the panties – those were her own.

I bent and kissed her shoulder in that tiny spot where her neck and shoulder come together and she jumped like a spark had hit her skin. "I'm sorry, dear, I just wanted to show you that I think you are very beautiful. When a man thinks a woman is beautiful, he usually tells her that by kissing her. You're not disturbed, are you, dear?" "Oh, no, it felt good. It just surprised me, Ed. Do you really think I am beautiful?"

"I'll tell you just how beautiful in one minute, dear girl," I whispered, and unclasped the hooks in the bra strap, but held onto the ends of the strap itself. "I'm going to take this off now, dear; just let me push it where I want it, OK?"

"OK," she breathed heavily.

I held the ends of the straps and moved my hands around her body, under her arms and across the tiny swells of her buds. I pulled a bit more and she lifted her arms to the front a bit and allowed me to tug the bra off her arms and away from her. I let it drop to the floor in front of her and in bringing my hands back, I held onto each small, brown-tipped breast with a palm. I pushed them back into her chest, pulled them out with my fingers, and caressed them with my palms, moving in circles, all the while kissing her on the neck and shoulders.

"See, I know you are beautiful even before I look at you. And I am kissing you to tell you that."

She was now breathing quite heavily and her chest was expanding and contracting under my hands. I removed my hands and she let out a small mewing sound at their departure. I managed to pinch her nipples once before removing my hands completely and she nearly jumped off the floor. I couldn't help but giggle, myself, into her hair.

I traced my fingers up and down her back, covering the area from shoulders to waist, and then caressed the silky feeling of her ass cheeks in their yellow covering. And I asked her to turn around and face me. She turned, and put her hands on her breasts to hide them from me. I tsk-tsk-ed her and she blushed and put her hands down, exposing those beautiful little white doves with their huge brown tips that I had so recently sucked and nibbled upon. They were even more beautiful now that she was playing a role with me.

"Now, dear, let's discuss what we have here," I whispered. "What are these?" I asked as I touched her tiny swellings with both hands.

"My boobies," she whispered back.

"No, love; not your boobies. When you were 9 or 10 they were 'boobies'; now they are breasts or tits or jugs or melons or face pillows, not boobies. Remember that. Now, say it: 'these are my tits, Ed'"

She looked up at me and whispered, "These are my tits, Ed."

"And I want you to suck them, Ed," go ahead; say it.

"And I want you to suck them, Ed." And she actually shivered when she said it.

"Oh, thank you for the invitation, dear girl," I laughed, and bent to capture one nipple and then the other in my mouth and suck and nibble and lave them with my tongue. She jumped again because I don't think she expected that right away.

I stood back and looked at both nipples and aureoles – swollen twice their original size; dark brown in color; hugely pointed and thick; crinkled and swollen and just begging for more attention.

"Do you like the new name for your breasts, dear girl?"

"Oh, yes; I love my tits, Ed. I loved it when you sucked them. I got all funny inside and I think…I think…I think I wet my panties." And she blushed again.

"No, dear, you didn't wet your panties. Remember when we were talking about how a man reacts when he is with a beautiful woman?"

"Yes, you said he gets thick and hard. You're thick and hard now, Ed."

"Right, I am; and I also said a woman's pussy gets very wet when she is with a man, remember?"

"Yes. Oh, yes; I remember. And is that part between my legs my pussy? Is that what you call it? It's wet, you know. It's real wet right now."

"Yes, dear; that's your pussy. What word did you call it in school?"

"The books call it your vagina."

"Right, but a man calls it a 'pussy' or some other names, too."

"What? What other names?"

"Oh, like, cunt or twat or snatch or love box," and she giggled at that one.

"Love box? Oh, I get it; yours sticks out and mine goes in. Mine is a box, right, because you can put something into it." And she got a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Right, dear girl. Now what do you suppose a man would put into a beautiful woman's love box?"

"Oh, I can't imagine, Ed. Tell me. Show me. I want to know everything."

"Well, I'm willing to show you, but first you have to take off those little yellow panties. I want to show you what your pussy really looks like." She looked at me sort of startled because she probably thought I was going to take them off, but bent over and slid them down to her ankles and stepped out of them. When she stood up, she dangled them in one dainty hand and looked at me as I said, "Now, sniff them, Nancy."

She looked shocked for a second, then slowly lifted them to her nose and inhaled her own scent. At that moment, when her panties were under her nose and covering her mouth, I put my thumb on their white cotton crotch panel and forced open her mouth, sliding the cloth covered thumb into it. She got the idea very quickly and closed her lips to suck on her own taste. "M-m-m-m-m-m-m-," she murmured though the panties.

I pulled the thumb and panties out of her mouth and kissed her on the lips. "Yes, my dear; you taste very good, don't you?"

She didn't have time to reply as I lifted her by the waist with both hands and sat her on the edge of the pool table with her knees spread and me standing between them. I kissed her and told her, "Now, we are going to complete our lesson for the day."

The table was not a regulation-sized table due to the smaller size of our basement. I realized that with just a little stretching, an incredible position could be obtained. I put my hands on her shoulders and laid her back across the table and lifted her feet in my hands. I put one heel in the corner pocket and the other in the side pocket. She was stretched, but not terribly uncomfortable. I stood there between her thighs, knees in the air and looked down at that absolutely lovely blonde pussy in front of my face. What I saw there could only be described as a golden vision. The overhead Tiffany lamp threw specks of red-gold into her curls and I was nearly overcome.

I stroked the tender flesh of her inner thighs and reached the apex to caress her swollen lips, finding them already heated and slick. I spread some of the slickness around on her lips and thighs and said, "See, love, you are wet right here; right here in your pussy; just like I said you would be if you were with a man and became excited. Do you know what you want to learn next?"

She was about to give up the game and moaned out loud, "Oh, for Christ's sake, Ed; teach me anything you want, but touch me quick. I am almost ready to explode. What the hell have you done to me?"

"I've turned you into a fuck slut, my little neighbor girl all grown up. But remember, you are MY fuck slut. You go right ahead and fuck Mike all you want to, but always in bed or on the couch or someplace; never on the pool table or in his office or anyplace that you and I will fuck. Is that a deal?" And I punctuated that request with a stab of my thumb into her hot pussy entrance, knuckle deep.

"Oh shit, yes!" she screeched and tried to remove her feet from the table pockets.

I pulled her back down and slid two fingers inside with the thumb and began stretching and pulling at her lips, making the hole larger and wetter and hotter and softer. Within the next six or seven minutes, I managed to slide three fingers all the way inside her tight little pussy up to the point where the web of my hand held me out. She was panting and straining and bucking up at my hand to achieve a release that I was not about to grant.