Neighbourly Spirits

So I've written about Jocelyn before (Screw with a View), but I want to tell you how it all started with her, back before she met her current boyfriend (aka The Clueless Bastard).

Jocelyn lived down the road from me at one point, before her family moved to the other side of the city. Her and her brother used to swing by for visits on weekends when they were bored, and we'd play video games and stuff.

One night me and the boys from work had a bit of a party. Drinking and music out on the back patio. Cops were called at some point because we kept the neighbours up with our noise, so we called a night and everyone but me crashed on the floor of the loungeroom.

I was the first to rise in the morning (I always wake with the rise of the sun unless it's nightshift on my security job), sitting out on the back patio nursing a throbbing hangover. I was just pouring myself some hair of the dog when Jocelyn wandered in through the side gate. She laughed at the state of me, and for good reason it turned out.

"I couldn't sleep for ages last night, because of your stupid party," she said.

I apologised, and groaned as I rubbed my hand over my face.

"You hungover?" she wanted to know.

I nodded, and took a swig of vodka. It made me want to puke, but I forced it down.

She plonked herself down on the seat across from me, tucking a foot under herself and leaning back as if she owned the place. She's been here enough times to feel like it's a second home. She was wearing tight denim shorts that were so short it barely covered anything, especially when she sat like that. The knee of her folded leg was nearly touching the seat, so her crotch was wide open. The shorts were cut so small there was only a thin strip of fabric covering her pussy. The sides of her white panties were showing.

I took another swig on my drink.

"You going to offer me a drink?" she said, smiling mischievously.

"When you're old enough," I said, thinking her father would murder me if I supplied his little girl with liquor.

"How bad's that hangover?" she snarked. "You were at my 18th birthday last month, remember?"

Oh yea, that's true. I remember now. It hadn't really seemed like a birthday. More like a casual Sunday barbecue between neighbours. I'd hung out with her mother and uncles, most of the time. They were older than me but more my maturity level, I suppose.

"You mean you haven't hit the clubs with your girlfriends yet?" I asked.

It was practically every 18-year-old's rite of passage: day of the birthday, grab the ID and go clubbing with your mates, get as shit-faced as you can.

She shook her head. "Dad's being an asshole about it."

Of course he is. He's a conservative Christian, and Chinese to boot (her mother's Filipino). There was no way he was going to allow his daughter to fraternise with the hedonist lifestyle, even though she was legally allowed to now. The thought took hold in my groggy brain, and without realising it, my eyes wandered down to her chest. She was wearing a tight white singlet. Jocelyn has what I think of as a swimmer's body: wide, strong shoulders. Her breasts weren't too big; probably a B cup. They certainly looked bigger in that singlet.

She cleared her throat and I snapped out of it.

"You owe me a drink for that, you perve," she challenged, flicking her dark hair over her shoulder.

I'm sure it's not the first time she's caught me checking her out, but in my hangover state I'd been a bit too fucking obvious about it. So I relented and poured her a drink. Now she let me idly check her young body out as we sipped our whiskeys (she struggled with hers, which made me laugh).

Jocelyn always reckoned her legs were stumpy, but she didn't really give herself much credit. Sure, she had thick thighs (especially for a teenager), but that was part of her attraction. She was young and supple, but with womanly hips, and I loved that about her.

By now I was starting to sport a mongrel in my cargo shorts, and I was worried the blood rushing into it might compete with the lingering hangover, so I poured us some vodkas and dared Jocelyn to a drinking match. I'd have to have a wank later on when everyone was gone, imagining Jocelyn in her little shorts and tight singlet.

"Whoever could swallows fastest," I dared her (and yes, she laughed at the double-entendre) "is the champion."

Naturally, she lost. But the booze was already going to her head and she demanded a rematch.

"Let's up the stakes," I said. "I win, I get to cop a feel."

The thought of groping her young breasts fairly had me panting with lust. Or was that nerves? She might be half way to drunk but if she stormed home and told her father about-

"Deal!" she chirped. "And if I win..."

Her eyes strayed over the table full of booze, scrutinising the labels and evidently trying to decide which she wanted to claim as her prize.

"If I win I get to touch that," she said, and pointed at my crotch.

I was surprised, I'll admit. I really hadn't expected for her to reciprocate the terms of engagement. This was practically a win-win situation for me. I stood to pour us our decisive drinks, checking through the window to make sure the boys were still passed out on the floor. Didn't need any of those wankers coming out and interrupting what I had going on here.

Drinks in hand, we stared each other dead in the eye. I was trying to decide whether I should let her win so I'd have her hand on my cock, or defeat her and get my mitts on those little tiddies. Suddenly Jocelyn burst into raucous laughter, nearly falling off her chair and spilling her drink in the process. She, like me, was fairly tipsy.

"Righto, three, two, one..."

We skolled our drinks. She nearly missed the mark, and half hers spilled down her cheeks and down her neck, quickly absorbed by her singlet. She patted at the fabric and started giggling.

"All wet now," she laughed.

I wondered if that was a deliberate double-entendre. She didn't acknowledge it was.

"Who won?" she said, eyes slightly glazed and sparkling with mischievousness.

I did. I won by a long shot.

"I think it was a draw," I said

Instantly I regretted that decision, afraid she'd insist on a rematch in order to drink more booze. She'd probably lose all sense of herself and then I'd be out of luck. I didn't mind assisting in getting her tipsy but I didn't want her passed out. I wouldn't go there.

"You go first, then," she grinned, yanking her singlet straight up and hooking her bra with her thumbs in one deft motion.

Her beautiful tits popped into view. Creamy skin like a coffee with too much milk, and brown nipples like bronzed pennies sitting smack in the middle of those gorgeous teen tiddies.

She wasn't laughing now, but there was a sly grin as she watched me carefully, studying me for my reaction.

I was in awe. Like I said, Jocelyn had wide shoulders and thick thighs, and her chest was no different. Her belly was cute and plump, like she still had her puppy-fat. It made her little boobs look so cute. Then I remembered the bargain we'd made, and slowly reached my hand out and caressed her tit. It was so soft, and when I brushed my thumb across her nubby nipple she sighed.

"I think there's vodka on my boob, still," she said, looking down at me with half-lidded eyes.

I needed no other invitation. My mouth closed on her warm flesh and I sucked on that tit long and slow, the scent of her youthful skin filling my nostrils and making me mad with lust. If I'd been sober, I'd have indulged in her body for ages, but I was half-pissed and so was she and next thing we were both standing and tearing at each other's clothes. She had my shorts down first, her soft little hands encircling my engorged cock and stroking it so tenderly I nearly dropped to my knees.

My fingers fumbled with the button on her denim shorts, finally unclasping them. Jocelyn stepped back and slid her them down to her knees. With her bra and singlet shucked up to her neck and her shorts and panties down to her knees, she was practically naked on a bright Saturday morning on my back patio, in full view of the neighbours. But that was going to stop us.

We embraced, our mouths locking hungrily. She was short, as I've mentioned, so I leant over her and felt my cock press against her belly. I gyrated my hips to let her know what I intended to do, preparing her for what's to come and low-key signalling to her that this was the time to back out if she was going to get cold feet. Her hands circled me and squeezed my ass cheeks, so I spun her around and pushed her toward the chair she'd been reclining on. She bent at the waist and placed her arms on the backrest, dropping her head onto her arms. Her hair cascaded forward and down the back of the chair.

I positioned myself, grabbed hold of my cock and poked around between her thighs until it felt wet. I'd found her pussy, and it was obviously dripping wet. I pushed a few times to find the part between her lips, and when the tip of my cock began to slide between her labia I knew I was home.

But she was tight. Oh man, was she fucking tight.

Thank fuck for the booze. It loosened her up, otherwise I don't think I'd have made it in. Even half way in it felt like Jocelyn's body was trying to push me back out. I took up a tiny rhythm with my hips, gently stroking my cock back and forth inside her. That did the trick, and soon I was able to get the sway of my hips a little faster. I couldn't get my dick all the way in, though. She was young and at my age my cock could swell to a nice fat girth, so I knew we'd reached our limit. Instead, I kept my steady pace, just enjoying how tight her little pussy was.

At some point I became aware of faces at the kitchen window beside me. A couple of the boys from work had woken and were watching me fuck Jocelyn, grins plastered on their stupid faces. I willed them to stay inside, lest they scare the poor girl away before I was done. I'm sure they were desperate for their own hair of the dog, but the mateship's code held them back. Don't fuck up a mate's fuck.

A lawnmower started up, and glancing over my shoulder I could see old man Henry over the back fence pacing up and down his yard, his face shadowed by the floppy straw hat hanging limply on his head.

Jocelyn was moaning, and I felt her pussy constricting on my cock.

"No, no," I muttered, but it was no use.

My balls went tight, and my cock grew hot, swelling inside Jocelyn as the cum roared through it and...

...I pulled out just in the nick of time, blasting my wad against her slit. It splattered in all directions, falling onto the pavers between her feet with little splat sounds.

"Fucking hell..." I gasped. "That was fucking amazing."

Applause broke out in the kitchen. Jocelyn swung her head up and brushed her hair to one side, looking confused and a little drunk, trying to focus on the window.

"Mates from work," I explained.

"Oh," she said with a lopsided smirk, pulling her top down over her breasts before they could get a decent look.

The screen door slammed back as Johnno and Kyle came outside. They whistled in appreciation of Jocelyn's body as she jumped up and down to pull her shorts over her thighs. They were staring straight at her pussy. In mere seconds it had disappeared from view.

"Fucking tops show," Johnno said to me, looking genuinely amazed.

Kyle the sly bastard was quick to scoot in and introduce himself to Jocelyn, shaking her hand way too long. What was he hoping for, that she'd drop to her knees and blow him right there?

"Jocelyn's from down the road," I explained. "We hang out sometimes."

"I'm sure you do," Johnno guffawed.

"Nah, that's a first, but," I offered, thinking perhaps their intrusion might be too confronting for Jocelyn, but she was taking it in her stride, lapping the attention up.

"Definitely a first for me," she smiled sweetly.

It took us all longer than it should have to realise the impact of her quip, and I think I was fist there. My mouth hung open and I stared at her. She thought that was pretty funny.

"Fuck, mate," Johnno wheezed with excitement, "you just deflowered a virgin!"

"Righto, calm down," I said, more embarrassed for Jocelyn than anything.

But still, the thought bothered me a bit. I liked Jocelyn a lot, and wondered if this should have been the way her first time should go. Sensing my trepidation, she came over and hugged me.

"Thank you," she whispered in my ear, and pecked me on the cheek.

Not on the mouth; the cheek. The time for such intimacies had passed. I wondered if that meant his was a one-off thing? I hoped not. I really wanted to get my hands on her body again.

"Anyway, I need some sleep," she said accusingly, though only I understood why.

She wished us well for our hangovers, and as she passed the table of booze she snatched a half-full bottle of vodka up for herself. I was about to protest when she sang out: "Happy belated birthday to me!" and did a cute little pirouette. This cracked Kyle up into a fit of laughter.

I yelled out that she needs to make sure her parents don't see the booze, and just before she slipped out through the side gate, she paused and lifted her top, flashing us all those little tiddies with the penny nipples. And then she was gone.

"Holy shit, mate," said Johnno, his eyes boggling. "You got any more gems like that one hidden around here for the rest of us?"

"I'm afraid she's a one-of-a-kind piece, boys," I said, and poured them each a glass of hair-of-the-dog, and a few more for the boys still passed out on the lounge-room floor.