Naughty Next-Door Neighbour

In 2013, I purchased a house in a relatively new subdivision in the southeastern suburb of Pakenham. The house was a stock standard, two-story 3x2 that looked like every other house on the street.

My next-door neighbour was an odd one. A slim, tall brunette, Sasha was a tomboy with a lazy mohawk and wore boots, denim shorts, flannel shirts and neckerchiefs. She was definitely a beauty in a stripped-down way; she constantly worked on her four-wheel drive SUV and motorcycle while listening to US rock music. Sasha employed colourful metaphors when frustrated, drank bourbon and smoked a lot of pot!

I did not know what she did for a living, but Sasha appeared financially comfortable. I suspected she trafficked in weed but in small quantities, given a near-constant stream of visitors who stuck around for five minutes or less. I was not bothered by this, and we became friends almost the day I moved in. Over time, we drank at each other's house every Sunday, and the banter was fierce.

Sasha told me she was single but enjoyed a string of lovers of both sexes. As I had a steady girlfriend, we remained good friends without any impropriety. However, my partner, Louise, did not take to Sasha and strongly disapproved of our friendship.

All was not well in our relationship, though. Louise lived well beyond her financial means and was on her fourth credit card. As someone with money smarts and now a mortgage, I could not keep up with Louise's hedonistic pursuits, and the friction ultimately proved fatal.

Sasha and I were drinking and mellowing at my place in the back garden one Sunday a few weeks after the split. My outdoor table was a one-metre-diameter wooden cable drum generously donated to me by the local electricity utility installing underground power lines. The table was strewn with beer and bourbon cans and pot paraphernalia.

"I haven't seen Louise for a while," Sasha said, "You guys all right?"

"We split the sheets last week," I replied with some bitterness.

"Sorry to hear that," Replied Sasha without any genuine sincerity, "You guys seemed solid."

She was dressed in a white singlet that amply showcased her awesome cleavage, a pair of oily denim shorts, white socks and boots that highlighted her slim, tanned legs. Not one ounce of excess fat on this beauty, and Sasha oozed sexuality.

"I guess it wasn't to be," I said flatly, hoping the subject would change.

"Louise didn't like me," Sasha continued.

"I'm sure the feeling was mutual," I said.

"She was one whiney bitch," Sasha replied, "But she was taught a lesson she will never forget."

"Oh, and what lesson was that?"

Sasha kept quiet momentarily, looked at me and took a drink. Seconds later, awaiting an answer, Sasha did not respond, seemingly hesitant.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Well, I...I...fucked her," Confessed Sasha, "I did not mean to, but she came around one day when I was working on my bike and complained about the music."

"And?

"My frustration with the bike and with her in general just boiled over," Sasha replied, "I was so angry that I grabbed her by the throat, flung her against the wall, and started striping the clothes from her body."

The narrative was getting very interesting, and I encouraged Sasha to provide as much filthy detail as possible.

"I made her suck a rubber strap-on that I have," She continued, "And then I fucked her three holes until she licked me clean."

"Licked you clean?'"

"Oh my god, but I should not tell you this," Confessed Sasha, who was now beetroot red with embarrassment, "I forced Louise to lick my cunt after I pissed on her tits."

"Aside from that last point," I replied," Louise told me all about that encounter."

Sasha turned ghostly white.

"All of it?" She asked, hand visibly shaking.

"Yes, she told me you raped her," I said, "And that it was a better sexual experience than she had with me."

"W...What?" Stammered Sasha, visibly scared, "I did not r....anyone."

"I'm sure not," I reassured my tomboy neighbour, "But Louise said so to shame me on our last argument."

"You don't believe it, right?"

"Oh, I'm sure you fucked her good and proper," I replied, "But not in the way she said."

Colour slowly returned to Sasha's cheeks. The fact that I knew of the encounter and its nature but did not believe the twisted lies of a scorned ex-girlfriend gave Sasha some relief.

"What did Louise say?" Inquired Sasha, still shaken.

"She went round to yours, complained about the music and swearing, and you forcefully came on to her and fucked her arsehole."

"Yeah, I did do that," She chuckled, "We both enjoyed it. She kissed me afterwards before leaving."

"Congratulations," I said sarcastically, "You got one hole more than me."

"I fucking knew it," Sasha crowed, "She begged me not to go there."

"But you did anyway?"

"It's hard to explain just how angry she made me," Sasha continued, anger rising as she recalled the encounter, "And...I was severely frustrated, mechanically and sexually."

"And her brattiness kicked you over the edge?"

"I just flipped and went for her with a savage vengeance," Sasha said menacingly, "I wanted to reduce her to dust."

"I think you did that, according to Louise," I said, taking a sip, "You humiliated and pleasured her in equal measure."

"So, why the accusation?" Asked Sasha, understandably confused, "It's not like she said NO, at any point."

"Louise is a particularly manipulative individual," I began, "The accusation was a jibe at my masculinity, in as much as your rough treatment - the R-word - was more enjoyable than a regular session with me."

"Did that hurt you?" Asked Sasha tentatively.

"It might have done had I not figured out her manipulative ways some time ago."

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Asked Sasha ashenly, "It was not my intention to insert myself between you."

"No, and you didn't," I smiled, "It was on the rocks anyway; I could not keep up with her high life."

"Since we're being honest here, you weren't the only one."

"Okay," I said, bracing for more bad news, "Who else?"

"At least two," Said Sasha, deathly afraid of my pending reaction, "One even came here."

"To my house?" I exploded.

"I saw one guy turn up with a high-end car; he stayed for several hours," Sasha replied, recoiling from my anger in horror, "And I overheard Louise talking on the phone with another guy."

"Why am I not surprised?" I said with apparent resignation.

"If it makes you feel even the tiniest bit better, I called out her cheating ways when I buggered her arsehole," Sasha said with grim satisfaction, "I also slapped her face and spat on her while mocking her infidelity."

Now that revelation was impressive. Sasha standing up for monogamous ways while enjoying multiple lovers herself.

"Any photos?" I asked with gallows humour.

"No," Sighed Sasha placing a shapely leg on the table, "It was too frenetic a pace to film."

"Did Louise at least make you come?"

"I came several times, but not that she had much to do with it," Sasha replied, "I used that cunt for my satisfaction."

"Arsehole too," I said with some bitterness, "Mouth as well, I'm guessing?"

"Yep, Louise was a three-hole pop socket."

"I'm glad you enjoyed her, used her, whatever."

We sat silent for a moment, with Sasha unsure whether she had damaged our friendship by assaulting my ex-girlfriend. I was not upset with Sasha per se; the more significant betrayal in this shit show lay with Louise and her cheating, overspending ways.

While emotionally stung, I could do nothing about the situation, which had ended for good. There was no point in lashing out or placing blame where it did not belong. After accepting those bitter truths, I felt a burden lift from my shoulders.

"Anyway," I said, smiling, "This is the best world of all possible worlds."

"What does that mean?" Asked a confused Sasha.

"It's my lame attempt to quote Voltaire, appear philosophical and put a positive spin on a bad situation."

"Why is it a bad situation?" Sasha said forcefully, "I mean, you got a lying, cheating, broke-arse cunt out of your life. You don't need that negativity. You're better than that!"

That last sentence was delivered with fiery intensity, and she believed it more than I did then.

"Well, I miss the companionship, the sex," I said pathetically.

"No, you don't," My angry neighbour replied, "She was a shit fuck and a using cunt. Who the fuck wants that in their life?"

"Put so eloquently; I cannot disagree with your forthright assessment." Her words did speak to me, but I felt emotionally compromised none the same.

"Look, be a fucking man, and take what you want," Sasha continued, "And what you fucking deserve."

Sasha delivered a hell of a pep-talk, and I believed she would make a fantastic motivational coach in an alternate reality.

"Forget Louise, Jason," Sasha quietened down, "In the long run, you'll be better off."

In anger, Sasha downed her can, crunched it between her muscular fingers and tossed it into the bin. Within seconds the next can was struck, and Sasha drew a substantial draught. 

Seconds later, I felt drops of rain. In our angry rant, we had neglected the weather that had started closing in with not-so-distant thunder rumbles increasing in intensity.

We quickly grabbed our chairs and relocated them to the covered patio while rain bombs descended from the heavens. The cacophony drowned out the music and our ability to communicate.

"I can hear now," I said after closing the sliding door, keeping the storm outdoors.

We stood by the door and watched with awe as the rain hammered the lawn. The sky was black as sackcloth, and it was only 4 PM. I switched on the lights so we could see, yet the thunder and lightning drew closer.

Suddenly, a massive crack exploded overhead, and the house was plunged into darkness. Sasha instinctively screamed, but I caught her before she hit the floor.

"It's okay," I reassured her as I drew her to my breast, "I'll reset the fuse board."

"No, hold me," Sasha shivered, "I'm scared."

"It'll be fine," I said as another direct hit smashed the house.

Sasha screamed in terror, trembling in the darkness. I suggested we lay on the couch and wait for the storm to blow over.

We lay on the sofa and spooned. Sascha was petrified at the storm's never-ending violence and shook as I held her tight.

As the storm moved away, Sasha's shivers diminished, and she became comfortable in my embrace, even backing her svelte body further into mine.

"Mm, you feel good," Sasha murmured, "Those strong arms around me, oh."

I had never entertained the possibility of sleeping with my neighbour, but there appeared to be a meeting of the minds. So, there was a violent storm, or act of God, to thank for this good fortune.               Not wanting to rush the situation, I let Sasha direct the pace and tempo of what would come next.

She did not disappoint. It began with her grinding her arse against my increasingly hardening crotch. With the rain beating down against the house, I could hear her quickening breath and signs of approval.

Then her hand gripped my hip.

Her head swivelled, "Kiss me."

Our lips locked gently and sensuously; our tongues danced an erotic tango.

Sasha was not the evil fuck monster that I had come to know and love but a feminine beauty that was vulnerable and exposed.

There was a part of my brain wondering whether Sasha was acting out of guilt for the non-part she played in my breakup with Louise. However, the yearning romantic in me wanted to believe that Sasha genuinely liked me.

As we kissed passionately, I did not care about anything other than the moment. Our lips seemed to dance in perfect synchronicity, raising the room's temperature. Sasha was giving off mad pheromones, and I was sure I was doing the same.

"Take me to bed," She said bluntly after breaking a kiss, "Now!"

We scooted off the couch and ascended the stairs to my bedroom.

"Classy," Sasha teased, "You've made the bed. Are these the funky sheets that you fucked Louise in?"

"Sorry to disappoint," I laughed, "These sheets are Louise-free."

"Well, I'm glad we aren't at my place," Sasha sneered, "My sheets are four or five lovers old, plus my come."

"Feel free to break my sheets in, then."

"I intend to," Sasha gushed, "I'm so fucking wet."

Sasha flopped on the bed and pulled me down on her sleek body.

"I've been masturbating to this fantasy for months," She said with sparkling eyes, "I'm going to enjoy this."

Sasha was so sexually confident that she was happy to take the lead and had no shortage of filthy talk. This completely contrasts Louise, who was mousey, sexually hesitant and shy yet avaricious and class-conscious. Sasha did not give a fuck about anything and lived in the moment.

"Doesn't mean I'm going to fall in love with you," She breathed, throwing me on my back and straddling my groin.

Nothing mattered to me but the immediate present. One thing I knew for sure was that I was about to engage in a fuck session that would blow past anything I experienced with Louise (or earlier sexual partners). I was the student, and Sasha was the teacher.

And the teacher was an animal, a sexually voracious beast, and I was the prey.

Or so she thought.

I was hesitant at first, and this frustrated Sasha.

"Don't ask me; just take what you want!" Was her repeated direction, delivered through gritted teeth, whenever I appeared uncertain.

I later discovered that Sasha was a 'switch', dominant with women but submissive with men. She would enthusiastically comply with my every whim and kink. Once I understood this, my confidence grew, and I became bolder with each encounter.

Back to the present, I was dying to unwrap Sasha's incredible physique. To no one's surprise, she was bra-less and panty-free. There were no tacky tan lines, and Sasha's body was not vandalised by thoughtless graffiti. In short, this woman was gorgeous from head to toe and very comfortable when relieved of clothing.

"I spend more time naked than dressed," She confessed with a childlike giggle.

Given the killer curves and angelic face, there was no doubting that statement. At first glance, I thought Sasha's breasts were fake because they were so firm and plump without any form of sag. However, I was assured they were real.

"Feel them if you don't believe me."

Now, that was an invitation too good to refuse. Still clothed, I placed an arm around Sasha's slim waist while my other trembled towards her generous chest.

"Incredible," I marvelled as I pressed the flesh and flicked the nipple, "Double Ds?"

"On a good day, they can be Es," We chuckled together before we kissed.

As I continued fondling Sasha's breasts, she began rubbing my cock through my shorts.

"Nothing's going to happen unless you make me do it," She reminded me when our lips parted.

My blood was up with anticipation after fondling the best breasts in the world. Suddenly, I grabbed Sasha's hair; she took a sharp breath intake and forced to her knees.

"Oh yeah!" She signed with approval.

I kicked off my shorts, exposing my leaking cock and jammed it down Sasha's expectant throat. She coughed as my cock head pushed against her tonsils but quickly became accustomed to the invasion.

"Suck it, whore," I growled, "Get it hard and wet for your other fuck holes."

Sasha took to the task with gusto and used her considerable oral skill, employing lips, tongue and throat muscles, to get me raging hard and dripping wet.

"Put your hands behind your back," I ordered before grabbing her head with both hands, "I'm going to fuck your mouth like it's your cunt."

Sasha opened her mouth as wide as it would go, and I rammed my cock in as hard as I dared. The gagging noises and her increasing audible moans drove me insane with lust.

"I love choking on your cock!" She stuttered after spitting out my cock.

Next, Sasha went to work on my shaft and rapidly tightened the ball sack, repeatedly spitting and rubbing the saliva into the skin.

"On the bed, whore," I pulled Sasha up from her knees and threw her onto the sheets, "Spread those legs."

She complied without question.

"Open that pussy!"

Sasha was shaven and had a tidy slit punctuated by a sizeable clit. Inside glistened with sticky wetness and was swollen, angry red from Sasha's heightened arousal.

"Play with your cunt for my gratification," I demanded.

Sasha began circling her clit and rubbing fingers up and down the opening. She was so wet that I could hear the squelching sound coming from inside.

I sat before her, grabbed her dripping hand and forced two fingers deep inside her pussy. Sasha screamed in pleasure. Quickly two fingers became three, and three became four. I tried for the fist, but we could not get the thumb inside.

Sasha came several times from this roughly assisted finger fucking. Her pussy tasted fantastic each time I brought her sodden fingers to my mouth.

Then I decided to replace her fingers with mine. Sasha's pussy was plenty tight, and I struggled to insert three fingers. Two were a slicker fit, and there was so much juice leaking from her pussy and pooling on the bed after greasing up the O-ring.

I touched Sasha's stomach and began furiously frigging her cunt. She exploded in pleasure. I felt her body buckle. Simultaneously, I pressed firmly down on her bladder and pulled my fingers from her pussy. As expected, Sasha shot out a stream of boiling squirt. She screamed in ecstasy before thrashing her clit, which led to further eruptions of spray. I swallowed as much as I could; her ejaculate was sweet to taste and slightly milky in appearance.

"Did you enjoy that?" I asked rhetorically.

Initially, Sasha could not speak, so overwhelmed (literally) with the aftereffects of several consecutive wet orgasms.

"My god, that was strong," She panted, "Fuck!"

"That looked so good," I said with pussy slime dripping from my chin, "Come and clean me up."

Like an energised cat, Sasha jumped up, grabbed my head and licked my face clean before passionately kissing me.

"Shit, you taste good," I said, enjoying the bouquet of vintage Chateau d'Cunt.

"Yeah, I love the taste of my pie."

"Stand up and bend over," I said, "I want a look at that arse."

"This arse?" She asked, wiggling her perfect orbs in front of me.

"Yep, that's the one," I replied as my hands massaged the flesh, "So good!"

Running a finger up and down the crack, I felt her hole was wet with pussy leakage. Dropping to my knees and spread apart her cheeks, and began lapping at Sasha's rosette.

"I fucking love that!" She encouraged, "Spit on it."

"Aren't I the one supposed to be giving orders?" I chuckled.

"I can ask for something occasionally, can't I?" Sasha asked, shooting me a cheeky smile over her shoulder.

"Where your arsehole is concerned, I'll take any direction you care to give," I answered before plunging my face deep between Sasha's cheeks.

"Fuck, yeah!" She repeatedly purred as my tongue gradually prized open her reluctant balloon knot.

Slap!

"Oh," squeaked Sasha, as I left a handprint on her left cheek, "More!"

I periodically slapped each cheek while continuing to rim Sasha's beautiful arsehole. The harder and more direct the blow, the deeper and more guttural her appreciative responses. At one point, she moved a hand underneath to massage her clit, which resulted in multiple ejaculations of pussy squirt which ran down the inside of her thighs and onto the carpet.

"You're making me cum again," Sasha shrieked in delight as I tongue-bathed her ring piece, "Please fuck my arse."

"Oh, I'll fuck your arse, babe," I said, "But first, I'm doing your cunt."

I stood up, my face dripping with saliva, butt juice and pussy slime, and then threw her roughly on her back, then wiped my face on the sheets.