Neighbors Pt. 08

The next morning came much faster than Aymie expected. Typically when she was anticipating something so much, time slowed down to a crawl and every minute felt like it was an hour long. In this case, she actually found herself running late. Her alarm went off around nine thirty the next morning, which gave her only 30 minutes to take a shower, go through her morning routine, and find something to wear before Mr. Davis expected her. She'd slept surprisingly well, having only awoken once throughout the night. For her, that was a record; she usually woke up half a dozen times every night. She was not a good sleeper.

Aymie rolled out of bed and found her bath robe, donning it over her naked skin and made her way to the bathroom. Her mother had already left for work, which gave Aymie freedom to take as much time in the bathroom as she needed. She showered quickly though, given her time constraints, and pulled her hair up into a tight bun atop her head once she stepped out of the steamy room, and back to the bedroom again. She stood in front of her full-length mirror after she'd peeled back her robe again, inspecting herself.

She wasn't skinny, that much was certain. For the longest time, she had cursed the way her thighs rubbed up against one another when she walked, the jiggle in backside or the way her hips sat so wide...but for some reason this morning, she admired them. She'd been blessed with a small waist, and the contrast of that and her wider hips gave her an hourglass shape that she'd learned to adore. She ran her hands over her body, delicately and lovingly, the way that Mr. Davis had done. She squeezed at her love handles, traced her fingertips over her tummy, and moved to cup her breasts in her hands. Her nipples perked to attention immediately. Her body seemed eager to be touched like this, and Aymie bit her lip and smiled as she thought about what would happen when she went over to Mr. Davis's house today.

What in the hell should she wear? She snapped to attention and stepped over towards her closet, inspecting its contents for something suitable. Should she try and dress sexy and revealing to impress him, or wear something more conservative and comfortable for her first visit? Maybe something in between. She pulled out a crop-top shirt that sat just above her navel, and a pair of navy blue harem pants that clung to her hips and backside, accentuating her curves. She wore no bra, and no panties beneath them, opting to allow her body to breathe beneath the fabrics. Once she was dressed, she inspected herself in the mirror again before applying a modest amount of makeup, some light eyeliner and a swipe of mascara, and finding her perfume roller, dabbing it on the sides of her neck and the inside of each wrist. She slipped on a pair of sandals and made her way downstairs to the kitchen to fix some tea.

She and her mother hadn't had the chance to clean up since the party last night and there was a myriad of dirty dishes and trash thrown around the place. She bit her lip. How angry would Mr. Davis be if she took just fifteen more minutes to tidy up before she left? If her mother came home to a mess, there would be tension in the house and Aymie hated that. She resolved to do a quick clean up, picking up the plastic cups and paper plates and throwing them in the recycling, sweeping up some spilled crackers and chips, adjusting the blankets on the couches, and doing a quick mop of the kitchen floor. She scrubbed up the dishes that were left in the sink and left them in the drainer to air-dry, then finally got around to fixing her tea. She threw it in a travel mug and peeked at the clock. She was only running ten minutes late. Hopefully he would be forgiving.

She grabbed her keys and purse, and headed out the front door and across the grass patch to Mr. Davis's front door. She hesitated, swallowing hard before she knocked three times against the wood. An answer didn't come right away, but she heard a thumping just on the other side of the door and her brow lifted with curiosity. When the door opened, she was met by Max, wobbling in his cast with his tail flailing wildly from side to side.

Aymie bent down immediately, giggling at the dog's display. "What are you doing up and about, pretty boy? Your poor legs are gonna get sore!" She scratched him behind the ears and nuzzled him.

"He remembers you, then. That's good. I had a feeling he would."

Mr. Davis's deep voice came from above her and she looked up to see him, her cheeks already blushing. He wore a pair of whitewash denim pants and a blue button up, with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The top was unbuttoned just enough to show the smattering of chest hair at the top of his torso. She rose to her feet and met his gaze, biting her lip.

"You need to stop doing that," he said, reaching up the tugging on her chin so that her lip released from the vice of her teeth. "It makes me crazy."

She licked her lips. "Crazy in a good way?"

Mr. Davis nodded. "A very good way. Come in."

He turned to the side and swept an arm towards the interior of his home, and Max hobbled his way in with Aymie not far behind. She kicked her sandals off at the door and stood awkwardly in the entrance, hands folded in front of her, her eyes glued to the floor. Mr. Davis stepped around her and took her by the arm, without a word, and led her into the living room. He swept and arm towards the couch, indicating she should sit, so she did and tucked her knees up underneath herself.

"Tell me why you're so shy?" he asked her, sitting in his recliner opposite her, leaning forward with his hands clasped.

She felt her cheeks get hot. "I-I don't know. I just don't know what to do. I don't know what you...want me for. I don't know what to say or how to act."

He smiled. "It's rather cute." He ran his hand over his beard and sat up a bit straighter. "Tell me why you're here. Why did you want to come? I didn't force you. It's your own two feet that carried you here." Leaning forward again, he pointed at her. "And I'll bet that little pussy of yours is already wet, right?"

She swallowed. It was. It took her several moments to formulate an answer, and she tried to hold his gaze while she spoke. "I want to know why I...react to you the way that I do."

"So do I. I want to know a lot of things about you."

She looked down and picked at the hem of her pants. "I don't react like that to anyone else. I...I don't think I ever have."

He tilted his head to the side and regarded her. "Not even with Derek?"

She peeked up. "No. Never with Derek."

"Tell me about that. Does he not satisfy you?"

Aymie shrugged. "He does. I mean...we've been dating for like, two years now and he's a very good guy. Sweet and kind, and he loves my mom. And he's good in bed it's just...not...perfect. It's like we fit in every other way but that."

"Well," he said, crossing his arms. "Tell me more. What is he doing wrong?"

She shook her head and ran a hand over her face. "It's not that he's even doing anything wrong. It just doesn't feel right. I mean, it feels right it's just...I don't know." She covered her face with her hands. "This is so awkward."

Mr. Davis stood up and came over to the couch with her. "He satisfies you, but he doesn't fulfill you."

His presence next to her exuded confidence and she felt so deliciously small in his proximity.

"Yeah, that. Exactly that." She met his gaze with cheeks blazing red. "He doesn't know what I need. I've tried to explain it to him but...he just doesn't get it. I don't want to always be in control of everything, but he needs me to be. He never wants to cum before I cum, so to hold off he has to literally like, lay limp under me. He doesn't even look at me for fear that he'll bust before I can cum."

She hid her face again. This was embarrassing. She never talked about her sex life in detail like this. It felt like a betrayal of trust or something, but he wanted to know. She wasn't about to lie to him.

Mr. Davis nodded. "I see. So...he can get a hard cock for you to use the way you want, but he doesn't do anything to help you along?"

Aymie nodded. "I guess. I always get off and everything, but it's all me. He doesn't make me cum. I make me cum."

She peeked over at him after a couple moments of silence and he looked thoughtful, and had a playful smirk on his face. He didn't say anything for a long time, but kept chuckling to himself. Once he did look at her, his eyes spoke of amusement and lust.

"You're being forced into a role that doesn't fit."

"A role?" she asked, confused.

"Mmhm. You are not fulfilled in a position of dominance. But that is where he's forcing you to be, so that he can try to impress you or hold onto his pride." He shook his head. "He doesn't understand you. You need control taken away. You want to be used. You want to be helpless and at a man's mercy. You want a man who knows what you need, and can give it to you without any of your help. Is that right?"

His words resonated deeply. It was like he pulled them right from a hidden part of her mind that she didn't even know. A small nod was all she could manage. She felt her hands trembling, and stuffed them under her legs to hide it. He reached over and tucked a piece of hair from her face, fingertips grazing her cheekbone. Just a simple touch like this seemed to sear her.

"I am a dominant man, Aymie. I am demanding and I know what I want, especially in the bedroom. I can give you everything you need, and take away everything you don't." His fingertip brushed against her cheek again and he looked at her seriously. "But I won't ever hurt you beyond what you can take. I won't ever take advantage of you, or make you feel unworthy. Is that understood?"

His gaze was captivating and she stared, mouth slightly agape. "Y-Yes. I understand." She swallowed. "What do you want from me in return? What do you get out of this?"

He smirked, and gestured to her. "I get you. I get your surrender. I get control. I get to watch you fall into this position that you've always wanted to be in, to witness the transformation." He grinned. "It's exciting for me. I get off on the power of it all. The trust. When you give yourself to me, all of you, every piece?" he said, reaching for her hand and guiding it out from under her lap and onto the crotch of his pants, where she could feel his hard length beneath. "This is what you do to me, Aymie Ann."

Aymie swallowed again, and squeezed softly at his erection before she released. She could feel herself tighten with anticipation at the feel of it. "What if I do something wrong? What if it isn't what you think it will be?"

There was such an intense fear in Aymie's chest as she spoke the words. She didn't want to disappoint him, not after all of this build up and anticipation. He'd spoken so perfectly of what she needed, but what if she couldn't provide him the satisfaction he needed too? She couldn't bear the thought of that. Plus, if she was going into this knowing she was cheating on Derek and then it ended up being hollow and empty, she'd feel even more guilty than she already did.

"If you do something wrong, I'll correct you. I'll teach you and show you the way that I want things to happen. The way I want to be pleased and touched, and the way I want you to give yourself to me." His smile was genuine and kind. "I'm not afraid of teaching you. I get very aroused from it."

Aymie swallowed sharply. This was all so much to take in. She didn't understand fully what he wanted. Just her? She didn't have to do anything except for what he asked? She didn't have to worry about what to say or do or think? It seemed too good to be true and she worried that there was something she was missing.

"We'll start small and slow, and build up to our potential as time goes on." He took her hand and stood up. "For now...Come with me. I want to show you something."

His touch seemed to melt her fear, and his words stirred her. Something to show her? That held a lot of possibility behind it, and Aymie smiled in spite of her fears and stood, clasping his hand and following him out of the living room and up a set of stairs. His home felt so different from hers. It was colder, that much was certain, and the decor was very masculine, all hard edges and deep, dark woods, dull grey paint and muted carpets. It was an oppressive combination and Aymie felt smaller and smaller with every step he led her up.

His steps were cool and confident, his posture straight and his grip sure on her hand. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to have it. Apparently, she was going to give it to him. The thought excited her. He led her around the corner of the second floor and into a bedroom, where the walls were painted a charcoal grey, the carpets a soft white. The bedspread was black with white sheets made beneath, black pillowcases and decorative, grey pillows sat atop the pristine duvet. Mr. Davis shut the door behind her and stepped around her frozen form, to rummage in the closet.

When he returned, he had a box in his hands, which he set on the bed, then patted the bed next to him and beckoned her to sit. He lifted the lid off of the box and Aymie peered inside, her eyes widening when she saw its contents.

"Are you familiar with any of these?" he asked her, his tone deep.

Aymie nodded, reaching in and pulling out three silicone dildos and a wand vibrator, setting them out on the bed. Her fingertips grazed the steel anal plugs in the box as well and she looked up at him, her eyes searching.

"Mmhm, that is what I put inside you last night."

She swallowed and gazed into the box, feeling a sharp tug in her belly and her pussy growing wetter by the moment. Was he going to use all of these things...on her?

"You look frightened." He chuckled. "Like I said, we'll start small. But these are the types of implements I like to use. I like to restrain, to torture and tease. I'd like to beat you, if you let me. Red welts would look so good on your skin."

Her eyes widened at that and she remembered the sting of his hand on her backside the night before, when he'd spanked her. She wanted more of it then, but now the idea terrified her.

Mr. Davis replaced the lid on the box after placing the dildos and vibrator back inside, and took the box off the bed, setting it on the floor. "All in due time. Stand up."

Aymie stood, turning to face him. His gaze was predatory as he looked her over from head to toe, causing that tightness in her groin to wind up even more. Just a look, and she was melting. She ached for him, to feel him inside of her and surrounding her in every possible way. To be connected. To be filled and fucked.

To be his.

-----

What a perfect body she had. Aymie stood before him, all red cheeks and trembling fingertips, looking down at the floor as though she were embarrassed. Jack didn't like that one bit.

"Look at me." When she met his gaze, he smiled. "When you're alone with me, in this space, you will not be ashamed of your body. You are beautiful. Fucking stunning. So no embarrassment. Do you understand?"

He could tell she wanted to look away, but she held firm and nodded. "I understand."

"Good. Come here, let me touch you."

She stepped closer, right in front of him, and dropped her arms to her sides. He could smell her perfume and her natural scent and it drove him wild. He wanted to throw her down on the bed and tear into her, to fuck her mercilessly and leave her sore and aching so she'd know how much he wanted her, but Jackson took his time. This wasn't a race, after all, and with her being a skittish as she was, it would take a tender touch so to not scare her away.

With one hand, he reached out and touched her. His palm splayed out on her exposed midriff, feeling the softness of her skin. He watched the goosebumps rise out of her flesh and it made him smirk. He lifted his other hand up as well and gripped her sides, sliding up the sides of her ribs and pushing the fabric of her shirt up with them. He watched the swell of her breasts spill out once the shirt was pushed out of the way and he lifted it over her head, peeling it away and tossing it on the floor.

He grinned, looking up at her. "Your nipples are so perky, honey." He closed a hand around her breast and felt it poke into his palm. "I love them."

He feasted on her with his eyes while his hands explored. Last night's rendezvous had been so rushed and impatient, and Jack was determined to take his time with her. To savor every curve and every crevice her body held. He would know every part.

Both hands worked over her breasts in tandem, kneading the plump flesh and pinching at her nipples, working them into rigid peaks. He listened to her breathing quicken, turning to gasps and whimpers as he worked her over. She was so responsive to his touch and it made him feel so powerful, to have this effect on her.

"Sit," he told her, scooting back on the bed and pointing at his lap. She climbed atop him, straddling his legs and he could feel the heat from between her thighs even through both of their pants. It turned him on.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispered to her, meeting her gaze and giving her a smirk before he bent low, closing his lips around her nipple and giving it a long, slow suck.

Her reaction was immediate. Fingers tangled in his hair and her back arched, thrusting those tits into his face more fully as a gasp erupted from her throat. Jack wrapped a hand around the small of her back, hand splayed over the top of her ass as he licked and teased at her peaks, pinching with his fingers. Aymie's hips slowly began to roll against him, rocking back and forth and grinding her pussy against his hard, aching cock. His hand guided her to continue, pushing against her ass as he devoured her.

Once he was satisfied, he kissed a line from her breasts up towards her neck, nipping sharply at the spot at the back of her jaw, just below the ear. Her yelp made him groan and he tangled his hand in her mess of hair, tugging her head back and exposing the entirety of her neck to his lips and teeth. He kissed every inch, licking and biting as he went until she was trembling in his hands. He released his grip on her hair and guided her face to his, pressing his mouth against hers in a ravenous kiss. He could taste the tea she'd had before she came over and his arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her firm and close as he ravaged that mouth.

Something about her kiss set him off. He never wanted to stop kissing her. The stimulation of her lips against his, the soft and plump feel of them, feeling her grow bolder as the kiss grew deeper, her whimpers and moans and the way she gripped at him...all of it. She kept on rocking those hips against him, pressing her tits into his chest and gripping handfuls of his hair and his shirt as their tongues wrestled in their mouths. He found himself moaning as well, desperate to keep her here, to keep her close and enthralled.

His cock had other plans.

Feeling her grinding down on him, crushing his erection against her pussy brought a primal need to the surface of his skin and he gripped her, turning himself around and hauling her onto the bed. In a matter of moments, he had hooked his finger tips into her pants and pulled them down, had managed to shrug off his shirt, and had removed his pants and boxer-briefs. He lay atop her again, skin on skin, and the feeling of her heat went straight to his core. He needed to sheathe himself in her tight, wet little pussy. He wanted to feel her from the inside out, and make her scream his name.

He lined himself up between her legs, which had eagerly spread as soon as he lay down atop her. Her hands sat on the sides of his face and she breathed quickly, panting with a lustful gaze and anticipation. The head of his cock pressed just past her lips and he swallowed.