The Girl Next Door Ch. 02

I had drunk way too much and I was woozy. The next thing I know Nancy Lee is rubbing my crotch and I get an erection. I don't remember him undressing but Lester Vernon's pants were off and Nancy Lee was massaging his flaccid penis. Then Nancy pulled my pants off and started putting Vaseline on my dick.

I was so drunk that I don't remember exactly how it happened, but I realized that Lester bent over and Nancy Lee was guiding my cock into his asshole. I had never done anything like this before and I remember the shock I felt when I realized that his asshole felt just like a pussy.

I don't know how or why or what it was but I started to fuck him. Nancy Lee was on her knees in front of him sucking his cock.

Then she laid down on the floor and spread her legs. She pulled Lester down between her legs and he started fucking her. That's when I realized that, when I started fucking him, he got the erection that both of them had been praying for, for the past two weeks.

Every time he thrust into her, his asshole moved away from me and when he pulled back for another thrust he drove my cock deep up against his prostate. I began to synchronize my thrusts to match his and I felt Nancy's hands reaching all the way past Lester and grabbing my hips to guide my thrusts.

"Fuck him Joe Bradley," Nancy Lee cried out. "Fuck him hard. Shove that big sausage in deep – he needs it!"

I was pounding him hard and Lester Vernon was grunting now, just like I had heard him grunt when I watched him get fucked in prison. This was a new experience for me but, surprisingly, it didn't feel different from fucking a woman. Lester's asshole felt exactly like a pussy. Maybe, because it had been used like a pussy for almost three years.

I don't remember having an orgasm but I felt Lester have his when his asshole began to contract rhythmically just like a pussy when a gal comes. I couldn't tell about Nancy Lee but she made a hell of a lot of noise after Lester pumped his load. The three of us collapsed together, sweating and gasping for air. Then we lay on the rug, breathing heavily, and finally passed out.

It was dawn Saturday when I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth and a headache. Lester Vernon and Nancy Lee were sleeping on the floor beside me. All of us were naked. Lester was snoring. I headed for their shower. After a few minutes, Nancy Lee joined me in the shower.

"Thank you for last night Joe Bradley," she whispered in my ear. "Lester Vernon needed to get fucked just like that. I know what it is to really need it. You've heard me beg for it often enough."

Then she pulled me close. "I love you Joe Bradley," she whispered. "Now I want you to pick me up and hang me on that big thing just like hot meat on a hook. I'm gonna put my arms and legs around you and I want you to brace my ass against the wall and fuck me hard. Just pound me Joe Bradley – I won't break – I promise!"

I did what she asked and fucked her hard, up against the wall with the water splashing down on us, while her husband slept on the living room floor, contented. It was the same fabulous pussy I had known for over two years.

Then I dressed and headed for home. I had only hazy memories of what had happened that night, but there was no doubt that I had done something that I had never done in my entire life. Thinking about it that morning made me feel very uncomfortable.

I promised myself that it wouldn't happen again, but they got me drunk and it did happen again, the next Saturday night. As before, I fucked Nancy Lee in the shower the next morning, while Lester Vernon slept.

I began to talk out loud to myself. "This simply cannot continue – I'm not like this. I don't fuck guys."

But it went on – and on – week after week. The woman I loved was married to my best friend and she was in love with me. Neither of us had the courage to tell Lester Vernon the truth. She didn't want him hurt and she was trying to do what he needed because she thought it wasn't his fault that prison had made him the way he was.

The only time her husband could get it up was when I fucked him. And I had to get drunk to fuck him. I couldn't go on like this. I simply couldn't take it. But neither Nancy Lee nor I seemed able to tell Lester Vernon the truth. Then one night it ended, suddenly.

It was just like before – the middle of the night and my phone rings. It was Nancy Lee. She was hysterical. Lester Vernon had been shot. I threw on some clothes and headed over to their doublewide. Two police cars were there, lights flashing. There was an unmarked police car as well.

I knew all of the uniformed officers. The story was simple and all too familiar. Lester Vernon had gotten back into the drug business, in spite of his promise to me that he would not. He got himself into the middle of a gang shootout in the hood at the capital. He was killed.

They wanted Nancy Lee to come up to the morgue to formally identify his body. I rode along with her. She was numb with the pain of his death, and she sobbed softly during the one-hour drive north. The plainclothes detectives took her into the morgue to do what she had to do.

The story made the front page of our small local paper with a picture of Lester Vernon in his football uniform. The editor, whom we all knew, wrote a somber piece about what drugs will do to even the finest of our young people. The funeral was small and quiet.

Two months went by, very slowly. Nancy Lee and I did not date. Our little southern town has rules and we didn't want to break them. Then we started going to church together and attended a couple of church socials. I still wasn't fucking her. Finally it was okay to take her dancing out at the Ranch and I could go into her doublewide for an hour or so when I took her home. That relieved the pressure a lot - for both of us.

Several months later I got her an engagement ring and she showed it around at church and at her office. A year after Lester Vernon was buried, we had a nice wedding with her dad giving her away and my dad as best man. We went on our honeymoon to that lucky little fishing village where I had drowned my memories in alcohol. We looked at emerald colored water and sunned ourselves on sugar white sand. It was a happy time.

The first day, as we sat on the beach, Nancy Lee turned to me and said, "We should have done this right after we graduated, Joe Bradley."

I nodded, said nothing, and felt bad about being a shy tenth grader. I wondered if sex was going to get simple now, like Daddy had explained it to me in the seventh grade.

We found a nice little three-bedroom place in our old neighborhood and Nancy Lee sold the doublewide for the down payment. We planned to have two kids and I made a silent resolution that if I had a son and he got interested in the girl next door I would advise him to get into her pants at the earliest opportunity.