Neighbors Pt. 05

Story Info
A taboo love affair begins to blossom between two neighbors.
3.6k words
4.3
14.8k
8
5

Part 5 of the 11 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 01/29/2019
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She didn't sleep again. For the third night in a damned row.

The morning light came through the sheer curtains on her windows and Aymie groaned, pulling the sheets up over her head to hide from it. She was certain the sun would burn her, after her behavior Tuesday night. She played the scene over again and again in her head, tingling from head to toe with sensation at the memory of Mr. Davis's touch. His kiss. His urgency. It made her tighten ever time she thought about it. And she couldn't. Stop. Thinking about it.

And yet, there was a crippling guilt associated with it all. She felt so dirty, like a little slut who got from another man what she couldn't get from her boyfriend. God, it was sick. Derek loved her, he cherished her and treated her like a queen, and how did she repay him? By getting hot and heavy with her older neighbor up against the door of her car?

Fucking slut.

She groaned and rolled out of bed, tugging on a pair of lounge shorts and a tank top. Her hair was wild and plastered over her face so she pulled it up into a pony, made a pit stop at the bathroom, and trudged out to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. To her surprise, Rosaline was already up and waiting with two steaming mugs on the table. One for her, and one for Aymie.

"Morning sunshi - Honey, what's wrong?"

Aymie winced. Her mother could always see right through her, and she certainly wasn't giving off her usual chipper energy this morning. She pulled out a chair and took the mug from her mother, breathing in that heady, energizing scent of java.

"Nothing, ma. Just...bad sleep, I guess."

Rosaline eyed her scrupulously. "I call bullshit. Talk to me, baby. Did something happen? Did Derek do something?"

Aymie shook her head. "No, Derek didn't do anything, ma. He's perfect, just like always." She sipped her coffee and felt her mother's eyes boring into her skull, so she looked up and met them. "Can I ask you something weird?"

Rosaline nodded, stirring her coffee with a spoon.

"What constitutes cheating in a relationship?"

Her mother stilled, lofting a brow and looking up at Aymie with the look. She stared Aymie down for a long moment before looking back down. "Hmm, I think that depends on the relationship, honey. It depends on what you and your partner have decided your limits and boundaries are."

Aymie tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Well...sometimes when you're seeing someone, you want to be entirely exclusive just with them. No dating other people, no fooling around with other people. It's just you two." She sipped her coffee. "Other times, relationships are more open. You can date around, experiment with others, sometimes even have open sex with other people. But at the end of the day you're still with the one person."

"What about with Derek and me?" she asked, lifting her mug up to her lips.

"Well, honey, Derek and you are exclusive, right?" When Aymie nodded, she continued. "If you're exclusive, you don't fool around with anyone else. You don't touch, kiss, or fuck anybody else but him. If you want to go to extremes, you really shouldn't even be thinking impurely about anyone else."

"So...hypothetically, if I kissed someone else behind Derek's back...that would be cheating."

Rosaline lifted that brow again. "I think so, yes. Hypothetically."

Aymie's chest tightened up at that and she nodded, trying to mask what she could from her mother. "Yeah, I kind of thought that too. I guess that just...means that we share something special, that we only want to be with each other. Nobody else. Just us."

Rosaline looked at her closely before nodding her agreement. "That's right. It takes a lot of commitment to be in that type of a relationship, Aym. And the fact that you two have stuck together for two years already means it is something special." She wheeled herself over to Aymie's seat and patted her on the cheek. "Don't let him go, honey. He's a good boy. He deserves a good girl, like you. You are perfect together."

A good girl like her. Yeah, right.

Rosaline wheeled herself over to the sink, setting her mug down in it and then made her way across the room towards the bathroom down the hall.

"Let me know if you need any help, ma," Aymie called to her.

Rosaline's 'mhmm' came back and Aymie was alone with her thoughts in the kitchen. Leave it to her mother to make her feel even worse than she already did. She was a cheater. That realization made her sick to her stomach. She couldn't even believe her own behavior from the other night. Something had just...come over her. Seeing Mr. Davis walk away called her to action in a way that she had no preparation for. It was undeniable, irresistible, and before she could even think she was nearly running at him. Those moments, however brief they were, were burned into her mind and she couldn't stop thinking about them, no matter what she tried.

God, his mouth. She had an inkling that the man could kiss but she had no idea how good it would feel. It was like he was laying ownership to her lips just with that kiss, but was also hungry for her flavor. He matched her hunger, like he was just as desperate for her as she was for him. And the feel of his hands on her body, holding her so tight and so sure, with a grip that possessed and controlled her, made every single bone in her body want to surrender to him.

But above all that, her body's reaction to him is what got to her the most. The instant that they made contact, the very moment that their lips met, she felt herself respond. There was no gentle build up to her desire, it didn't take time to develop or grow, it was instantaneous. Her body snapped to attention at his touch, as though every nerve were hypersensitive. When he pinned her up against the car and she heard the growls of satisfaction in his throat, she felt such a sense of purpose, of meaning. Like in that moment, all she wanted to do, all that she was meant to do was anything she could to hear that sound again. To know that she was pleasing him and making him feel good. It was all she wanted, all she could think about. She wanted to submit to him, and let him make good use of her.

By the time she made it back to the front door, her wetness had begun to drip down her inner thighs. Just from a kiss! She had never been that wet before, that turned on and ready and eager. He drew out some inner, primal siren in her that begged for more, pleaded with her to turn around and go back to him, to get more of his flavor and his touch.

It had never felt this way with Derek. Ever.

That was the fact that kept haunting her. She and Derek were in love, and had been having sex for well over a year now, and the sex was good. No, the sex was great. It was hot and it was passionate and it was loving and orgasmically great. But it wasn't like what she felt when Mr. Davis had her in his grip. It didn't even come close. That fact scared and excited her.

Fuck, it was only 9 in the morning and she wanted a drink. Or to run a mile. Or to drive to the opposite side of the state and get as far away from her neighbor as she possibly could. How was she ever going to live with herself? Should she tell Derek? Come clean about the whole thing and beg his forgiveness? After all, it was only a kiss. Surely he would forgive her.

In her heart of hearts, Aymie knew that was a lie. It was much more than a kiss. Mr. Davis touched a part of her that was so deep, so hidden and so pure, she knew she'd never forget it. And she'd likely never be satisfied by anything less than that ever again. Should she just resign to that? Let her mind play out its fantasies, masturbate until she fell into exhaustion, and entertain the thoughts until they ran their course? That way she could get rid of his nagging pressure in her chest, and the even more urgent ache in her pussy.

Her mother called to her from the other room, and Aymie hopped up to go over and help with whatever she needed. Poking her head in the bathroom door, Aymie was met by a wall of steam and the smell of her mother's body wash.

"What's wrong, ma?"

"Nothing, honey, I just wanted to let you know we're having some of the neighbors over tonight. I wanted to have a block party to celebrate Spring coming. So if you wouldn't mind tidying up the house a bit while I'm at work today, I'd be really, really grateful."

Some people coming over. A block party. Guests from the neighborhood.

Aymie's pussy clenched so tightly, it nearly hurt.

"Yeah...okay...th-that's fine, ma. Wh-Who all is coming, do you know?"

"Oh, I invited the whole block. Mrs. Baker will be here, Mr. and Mrs. Florentine, the Smiths and their kids...oh, and. Mr. Davis next door."

At the very mention of his name, she was wet and wanting. "O-Okay. Great. That's...yeah. Okay. Can I invite Derek?" she asked, in a moment of panic.

"Of course, honey. You know he's always welcome."

That would be her saving grace. If she had Derek in her sights, on her arm, it didn't matter that Mr. Davis would be here. Maybe then he'd see that she couldn't continue...whatever it was that they were developing. He'd see Derek and her happy together, and he'd never ask her to come over for tea again.

-----

"Yeah, I'll be in later this afternoon, Ted. Make sure the paperwork is ready and on my desk, I don't want to have to hunt around for it like I did last time."

Jackson paced, shirtless, around his bedroom with his cell pressed to his ear. His slacks hung from his hips, splayed open to display the smattering of graying hair on his pubic bone. He had been mid-dress when Ted called him the the latest emergency, which was a broken coffee maker in the office. Ted was requesting permission to purchase a new one with company funds. Jack wondered if Ted could do anything without first asking permission and, as he hung up the phone, he let out a long sigh.

Jack buttoned up his pants and went hunting in the closet for a button-down to wear for the day. He clicked the light on at the top of the closet and rummaged through his collection, deciding on a black, cotton shirt for the day, finding it to be sleek and reflecting his mood for the day.

Jackson was hungry. Ravenous. It had been three days since he'd seen Aymie, and he was certain the girl was avoiding him. She had every right to of course; their tryst in the driveway had left them both hot and heavy with a tantalizing promise for more to come, should she wish it, and Jack knew in his heart of hearts that she did. The way she nearly threw herself at him when he went to leave told him that much, but he knew she was afraid. He was older than her, more experienced in nearly everything and likely intimidated her, not to mention the fact that Aymie had a boyfriend. Plus...what would her mother say if she ever found out?

It didn't matter, not to Jackson. He couldn't deny himself any longer. Every bone in his body wanted her. His hands remembered the feel of her skin, trembling once he took charge. His lips still tasted her tongue and her kiss and every time he thought about it, he felt twitch in his groin. He wasn't sure he'd ever wanted someone as much as he wanted Aymie Ann Monroe.

As he reached up for the light switch in the closet. Jack's eyes caught sight of the box up on the top shelf, hidden away from view. He'd stuffed it back there so long ago, and covered it with blankets and storage containers. He was convinced he wouldn't need its contents anymore, not at his age. He reached up, leaving the black shirt hanging open from his chest, and pulled the box down off the shelf, carrying it over to the bed.

He hadn't looked inside in nearly ten years. He hadn't needed to, not after his last relationship had imploded. His heart still ached with the memory of it but he shook his head and shoved those memories aside. He lifted the lid off the box and peered inside, feeling a playful smirk come to his lips. He pulled out two sets of handcuffs, one steel and one leather, a spreader bar, two riding crops, a leather flogger, a wand vibrator, a set of steel anal plugs, a set of nipple clamps, a satin eye mask, a ball gag, and three silicone dildos of varying size. With each toy he pulled from the box, he felt himself tighten. His mind raced with image after image of what Aymie would look like gagged and bound, the sounds she'd make with a plug in her ass and nipple clamps on her perky breasts. He wondered if she would enjoy a flogging, and hummed when he pictured his hand print on her ass.

Jack would certainly be satisfied with a vanilla relationship with Aymie, that much was true...but he wondered if she would. There was a need in her, something deep and visceral that he wasn't sure if she was even aware of. She was a natural submissive. She had an energy of surrender to her that Jack had picked up on immediately in his kitchen when they'd shared tea, but he tried not to think about it then. But when she was in his arms the other night, so instinctively letting him take the lead and take charge, he couldn't ignore it anymore. He wanted to own her, to claim her and make her his. Taking a sub wasn't something he'd wanted in so long, and it called to him like a siren's song. He was naturally dominant, and had a confident and assertive personality. He was controlling in nearly all aspects of his life, and that had always included his sex life. If he had his way, it would include Aymie Ann as well.

Jack left the toys splayed out on the bed while he finished getting ready for his day. He buttoned up his shirt and found socks and shoes, went in the bathroom to fix his mess of morning hair and apply his cologne, then came back out and stood in front of his full-length mirror to inspect himself before he left. He looked...younger. Less fatigued and worn. His eyes seemed brighter, lacking the bags beneath them that he usually saw. His salt and pepper beard made him look less like an archaic old man, and more like a suave and dapper gentleman with a deviancy behind his confident gaze.

He looked good, for once.

A sly smirk came to his lips and he adjusted the collar of his shirt before he headed downstairs to find his wallet and keys, give Max a pat on the head as he snuggled up on the leather sofa, and head out the door to hop into his Mercedes and head off to work. He spared a lingering look towards the Monroe house, eyeing the window the peered into the kitchen. He caught a glimpse of Aymie before the curtain was pulled shut and she disappeared from view. That brought another roguish smile to his lips and he started the car, pulled out of the drive, and headed towards his office. Their chemistry was calling to her too, and there would be no denying it. Jackson knew this in his very soul.

"Alright, Ted. What did you need?" Jackson called, inviting Ted into his office.

He came in, cautious as he always was, with a catalogue in hand. He held up an open page to Jack and pointed at two coffee maker models, one traditional, one pod-style.

"I didn't know which one you wanted so...I figured I'd just let you pick it out before I ordered."

Jack blinked. That was what Ted so urgently needed him for? To order a damned coffee maker? He stifled the urge to roll his eyes and send Ted out and took the catalogue from his hands, skimming over the page briefly.

"The one on the right's fine. You could just go down the street and pick one up from the store, you know. We don't need anything fancy."

Ted took the catalogue back and eyed over Jack's selection, then looked up at him. "Well yeah but...well, I just wanted to check with you first."

Jack laughed once. "I'm your boss, Ted, not your damned father. You don't need my permission to do everything in the office. Make some decisions for yourself. Take liberties." He looked over and Ted had a confused eyebrow raised. "I give you free reign to order whatever the hell kind of coffee maker you want. Surprise me."

Ted blinked, looking between Jack and the catalogue three times before he cleared his throat and nodded. "L-Liberties. Yeah. Okay. I can um...I'll just order one, then." He rose up from his chair and went to head back out of Jack's office.

Jackson stopped him. "Ted, answer me something." He turned to look back, and Jack continued. "Why is it that when we have meetings scheduled and I cancel them, you give me all types of shit but whenever you have to make a decision on your own, you come in here with your tail between your legs like I'm going to scream at you? Do I intimidate you or...are you just afraid of me?"

Ted stepped back into the office and rolled up the catalogue in his hands. "I don't know. I never really thought about it."

Jack pointed to the chair opposite him and Ted sat back down. "I didn't hire you because you did what I said, Ted. You know that, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I hired you because I can see the fire in you. You've got your own bright ideas and inspirations, things that drive and motivate you. You've got a big personality, but you're hiding it behind something. Why is that?"

Ted cleared his throat and looked away. "I-I don't know, Jack. It's your company. Your business, that you've built from the ground up. I just don't want to step on your toes or take liberties that I shouldn't be taking, when it isn't even my baby."

"I hired you to take those liberties, Ted. To take some of this responsibility, this stress, off of my hands. It is my business, you're right. So why would I hire people that I didn't trust to make those big decisions for me?"

That stopped Ted's sniveling for a moment, and he regarded Jackson curiously, a brow lofted. "I guess...that makes sense."

Jackson nodded. "Exactly. You're a good man, and a good worker. But I need more from you. I need you to be more aggressive with your decision making, your problem solving, your..." Jack gestured to the catalogue in Ted's hands. "...coffee maker ordering. You don't need my input for everything, alright? Just the big stuff."

Ted gave a long, slow nod. "Alright. I can handle that."

His tone was a bit more determined now, more confident, and Jackson smiled at that, then nodded to release Ted from his office. He was a smart guy, but he was a chicken shit. Hopefully this would be his first step to growing a spine. Jackson chuckled to himself and gathered up the contents of his briefcase, packed it up, and pushed up from his desk. Finally, time to finish up his day at the office. He had to run by the market before heading home to pick up something for Rosaline's get together, and find something to wear. Something that might entice Aymie Ann from across the room.

Jack was almost certain she'd invite her boyfriend to come to this little party. She was still so unsure, so nervous about everything between them, it made sense for her to hide behind something comfortable that she was used to. But she likely knew as well as Jackson did that there wouldn't be any refusing this, not for long. It was magnetic, their chemistry...and it made him tingle with anticipation.

He nodded his goodbye to the rest of the crew at the office before heading out to his car and driving over to the market. He'd pick up some fresh vegetables and chop them up for a veggie tray. That was simple, and most folks liked veggie trays. Then he'd head home and pick out something to wear. Strong colors that announced his presence. Maybe a tie. Well-fitted slacks but with a casual top. Something that made Aymie stare. He wanted to draw her in without even having to touch her.

Somehow, Jackson didn't think it would take much effort.

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  • COMMENTS
5 Comments
WordcraftWordcraftabout 5 years ago
WHAT LOVE AFFAIR???

The only love affair going on in this story is Aymie and Derek, not Aymie and Jack. For a love affair to blossom, there needs to be more than this. So far It's more like two wall flowers staring at each other at a dance.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 5 years ago
Stalled

It feels like this is stalling out. No progress is being made in this chapter, not even sure if it was needed.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 5 years ago
Painfully slow

Painfully slow and chapters too short. Progress get somewhere 5 chapters and a kiss is it.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 5 years ago
Run, Aymie !!!

Mom, sell the house, NOW !!!

cudsnuggleatcudsnuggleatabout 5 years ago
HOT

Thank you for the great writing . . .

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Neighbors Pt. 04 Previous Part
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