The Girl Next Door

"You picked me up with one arm when that runt was trying to get his little needle dick into me out at the Ranch. You carried me like I didn't weigh a thing. Do it again Joe Bradley. Only this time I want to feel you when you're rough. Take me -- just take what you want. I'm hungry for it! I need to feel a big man who wants me."

I picked her up and she put her arms around my neck and pulled my head down to kiss me. I carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Then, slowly, I undressed. When I pulled my shorts down my cock sprung out, hard and ready, and she looked at it in hungry anticipation.

"Damn! I need that thing!" She whispered. "Let me get you ready."

She grabbed my cock and took it into her mouth and I could feel her tongue swirl around as she covered it with saliva. Then, keeping a firm grip on my dick she pulled me down on the bed, spread her legs, and positioned herself to take me. Her hips lifted up and she guided me into a dripping wet pussy. My hips pushed forward and I slammed that sausage home in one hard thrust.

"Jesus! That's good!" She said. "Now make me feel it Joe Bradley. Pound me! I won't break. I promise."

She hoisted her legs high in the air -- spike heels bouncing as I fucked her hard, just as she had asked me to do. Her hips lifted up firmly to meet my every thrust and our bodies made a slapping sound as we came together and my balls slapped her in the ass. It was a cheap bed and the springs broadcast our encounter in rhythmic sounds throughout the whole doublewide. This was the kind of pussy that I had dreamed about for years but never got my dick into.

Her first orgasm came in minutes and she almost screamed with passion as her pussy clamped down rhythmically on my cock. I ignored it as my eagerness to work for my own pleasure took over. A few minutes later I felt my juices start to rise and she came again, right before my balls lifted up, and I pumped a huge load deep -- her contracting pussy seemed to milk the semen right out of me.

As I collapsed on her body, I felt her hands massage the muscles of my shoulders and her tongue lick the sweat from my chest. We were both panting heavily. My dick slowly got soft inside her as I lay on top of her.

"You're a man Joe Bradley -- a real man! That's what I've needed for a year," she said.

"Now I want you to rest up for a few minutes and then fuck me again -- fuck me again like you just did."

I started to roll off of her but she grabbed me and held me on top.

"Don't get off me. I want to feel your weight on top of me. Jesus! You feel good! I'm a strong woman Joe Bradley, but you handled me like I was a rag doll. Do you know how good that makes a woman feel?"

"You're not talking Joe Bradley. Don't you have something to say?"

I said the first thing that came into my head. "That was spectacular pussy, Nancy Lee. Just spectacular!"

"It's your pussy from now on Joe Bradley -- all yours and user-friendly. Any time you want it."

I felt my dick starting to get hard again -- still inside of her. She felt it too.

"Oh that feels good Joe Bradley. Yeah. Real good!"

She kicked her shoes off and put her feet flat on the bed to get better leverage. Then she lifted her hips up and started to pump her ass.

"Now fuck me again Joe Bradley. And don't be gentle. I won't break."

I fucked her again. And then, again. And then, the next morning when we woke up, again. By the time I walked home in the early dawn to drive to work, I felt like my pecker was developing calluses.

After that we fucked a lot - several times a week. Sometimes I spent the night at her place. And we talked in bed after we made love. A lot of our talk was about when we were young. I was surprised that she had thought about me as much as I had thought about her when we were in Junior High School. One night she told me about watching me cut grass.

"I remember one day you were cutting the grass with your shirt off and you were sweating and the muscles of your back and shoulders were rippling and wet and shiny. I walked over to talk to you and I could smell your sweat. I wanted to put my hands on you and feel your muscles, but of course I couldn't do that."

"You handled that big heavy lawn mower like it was a little toy. Then, when I got to bed that night, I played with my pussy and thought about smelling your sweat and thinking what it would be like to rub my hands on your body and taste your sweat."

"I played with my pussy in bed a lot, thinking about you, Joe Bradley. Thinking about your muscles and how your sweat smelled and how your belly looked like a six-pack. I was always hoping, but you never asked me out. I never understood why."

Oh my God! I thought. She wanted me to ask her out. I should have. Dad didn't mean don't take her out. He was just trying to tell me to treat her with respect. I wish I'd asked her out when I started dating in the tenth grade, but I was always too shy. She was so special to me that I didn't dare risk her saying no.

One visitor's day after we started having sex, Nancy Lee went to see Lester Vernon. She had told me that she was going to tell him about what we were doing. I went over to her place that night. I was eager to hear how her visit had gone.

"He was very calm and listened to what I told him," she said. "He didn't seem upset."

"What did you tell him?" I asked.

"I just said that we fucked and you took care of what I needed. I didn't tell him about the time I walked around naked in spike heels to turn you on. And you picked me up like I was a feather and lowered me down on that big Polish sausage that was pointing straight up and I just hung there, like hot meat on a hook, and I wrapped my arms and legs around you and humped. And my body felt like one big pussy hanging on your cock. And then I started to tremble and my pussy started contracting and after my orgasm I licked the sweat off your chest. I didn't tell him things like that."

"Yeah," I said. "I ... I think it's better ... it's better that you don't go into details."

"I told him that you satisfied me, but I didn't tell him how I beg for it over the phone when I've had a few drinks or how jealous I am of that bitch Ruth Anne Wells. I know you're fucking her -- I just know it. And I can't stand it."

"I didn't tell him how big you were or how good it felt when those heavy low-hanging balls of yours slapped me in the ass. And I didn't tell him how sometimes we just stay naked all weekend and do nothing but fuck. I just told him you took care of me when I needed it -- I didn't tell him how much I needed it."

A year went by this way and Lester Vernon got no more ugly letters from whoever was writing to him about Nancy Lee getting drunk at the Ranch. There was nothing about the two of us having an affair. We had been very discrete and maybe it was working. I had quit seeing Ruth Anne -- I just didn't want to fuck her anymore. She was dating other guys, so she didn't get hurt. I still dated other girls to keep up the pretense and never left my car overnight at Nancy Lee's doublewide.

But something had started to happen to our relationship. It became warm and loving and comfortable, even though it remained sensuous and passionate. The first time Nancy Lee used the word "love" I pretended not to hear her -- but then she started to use it regularly. I couldn't help myself. I began using it in return. I guess it was real. The gal I had fantasized about since the seventh grade was in love with me and her husband was my friend and he was coming back to her in less than a year.

Finally, one night lying in bed, we talked about what was in both our minds constantly.

"He has a clean prison record," I said. "He'll probably get out at the first parole hearing -- and that's just nine months away."

Nancy Lee's body seemed to get stiff. She said nothing.

After an eternity I said, "What are we going to do?"

"I love you," she said. "I love you Joe Bradley. I care about him but I don't love him anymore -- maybe I never did."

"What are we going to do," I repeated.

Nancy Lee sat up in bed. She was angry. "It's not his fault. He told you to fuck me to keep me from becoming the town whore. He knew I was just a horny little bitch who couldn't keep her legs together. And if it weren't for you that's what I would have become too -- the town whore!"

"I shudder when I think about how he is suffering in that damn prison -- getting fucked every night by that big nigger! I don't know what to do! All I know is that I love you!"

She got up and poured a full glass of Early Times. Then she drank it down in several huge gulps. She obviously wanted to get drunk so she didn't have to think about my question. I held her in my arms and patted her on the back and whispered in her ear until she went to sleep. The next morning I left to walk to my apartment before she woke up.

I didn't raise the question again for a couple of weeks, but I knew we had to talk about it. One night, before I took her to the Ranch, I asked her again. Nancy Lee was sober and so was I.

She looked at me and then at the floor. "I love you Joe Bradley. I don't know anything except that I love you. I mean, he knows we're fucking, but he thinks it's just ... well just ... fucking ... you know. I've thought about it and I simply can't tell him I want to leave him -- not while he's in prison -- and not when he gets out and comes home expecting a loving wife waiting for him. I just can't do that. I care about him too much to do that to him."

I thought carefully about what to say to her. How could I make her understand that I couldn't approach my friend while he was locked up and helpless and tell him that not only did I enjoy fucking his wife, but, I was going to take her away from him. There were no words to say that. There was no way to say that. He had trusted me with his wife. We had a few months, but I didn't think time would help us solve our problem. I had absolutely no idea what we could do, or what we should do. All I knew was that we were in love.

To be continued...