The Neighbor Lady

"You OK?" she asked. He met her eyes and smiled.

"I'm glad it's you doing this, and not someone else."

"I'm glad it's me too," she said, smiling her crooked, now embarrassed smile. "I only hope you like this as much as I do."

He just smiled and waited.

"Close your eyes," she said.

He dutifully closed his eyes. A moment later the tip of the dildo touched his anus and he winced automatically, in anticipation. He liked the feel of her fingers spreading him apart, holding his buttocks open. He shivered again as the head first pushed against, and then began to unlock his taut anus, making him wince in real pain this time.

Relax, he thought to himself. She goes through this every time we're together and she never complains, and I never treat her with such gentleness. A moment later the head was entirely inside the ring and he adjusted himself in discomfort, understanding what Claire felt every time.

"Are you okay, Todd?"

"It hurts, but it feels pretty good too." He opened his eyes and met her gaze. "Forgive me all the times I put you through this and enjoyed your initial reaction. I guess the experts are right about us; we get off on hurting you all."

"You're a man. Men are animals," she said, laughing. She stroked his hip as the head of the dildo inched through his anus and into his rectum. He guessed it was 2" inside now, maybe more. Only five more inches to go, he thought, wryly.

Dryly she asked: "While I have you like this, can I ask you a question?"

He laughed harder and Claire joined in. He reached back and waved his hand, which she took, keeping her other hand inching dildo steadily inward. He knew at some point that he'd feel the pain as it bottomed out. So far, it only felt good. Good and tight and incredibly stimulating, re realized with some embarrassment. And as his erection grew, it only felt better. Soon he was standing fully at attention, although pointing straight down at the bed.

"As I remember, this got me in trouble last night," she said. Her tone was almost wistful.

"Just leave it alone. Maybe it'll go away on its own."

"I don't want it to go away," she complained. "It's beautiful. I want it in my mouth. Among other places," she mused, releasing the end of the dildo in favor of his cock. "You know, I could—"

"Leave it alone!" he ordered.

"OK! OK!" She released her grip and his cock swung back to the 6 o'clock position, pointing downward again, no worse for wear. He sensed her desperate longing for it. No woman had ever craved his cock before, craved him, not like this. He jealously was overwhelming, knowing Carl would return soon to claim her back.

"Tell me if it starts to hurt," she urged. "We're not in any hurry. I don't want to hurt you."

The dildo was half way home, filling half his rectum. He nodded and placed both hands under his head again and let her finish sliding it home. Finally the dildo stopped, the head stopped by the 900 turn into his colon. Claire laughed.

"I always wondered what it looked like," she said. "This is really...deep, Todd. Do you know how much you took?"

Todd shrugged. "Six inches?" he guessed.

Claire laughed. With her fingertip, she measured the distance between the base of the dildo and his taut anus. The distance was miniscule, maybe a quarter-inch. Todd realized he had taken it all, the entire 7" shaft. "Wow," he said, amazed.

Claire giggled. "Now you know how I feel, big guy. It's something, isn't it?"

Todd nodded/ 'It feels like a submarine up me. I feel like telephone post-hole, just as they put the telephone pole in it."

She laughed appreciatively, and then asked: "Can I fuck you with it now?"

"Fuck away, my darling."

And she did, slowly at first, backing the dildo to the ring of his anus, and then inserting it again. Each time she did, Todd gave a moan of pleasure. He began to understand why this turned Claire on so much, also understood the discomfort she felt the next day, high up in her abdomen. He would feel that discomfort himself, already did feel it, but the feeling was good, the kind of pain you appreciated. And he didn't complain when she reached between his legs and claimed his cock with her free hand. He liked being masturbated while he was being fucked.

Claire varied the experience, interspersing sharp, hard and repeated jabs into his anus with the slow deep thrusts into his rectum. He began moving continuously, reacting to her thrusts, shifting his hips, rearranging his knees, arching and twisting his back, moaning loudly and deeply. The one thing he didn't vary was the cheek planted on his crossed hands. This was Claire's party, and he wouldn't interfere.

A few minutes, and he became aware that Claire was no longer sitting relaxed beside him, but on her knees now, stroking with her right hand while fucking him with her left. She did both with a quiet, gentle vigor. Todd realized if she didn't stop soon, at least with the devastating hand-job, he'd be spraying precious fluid onto the bed sheets.

"Claire!" he gasped.

"What?" she gasped back. Damn if she didn't sound just as excited as he. Todd reached back and freed his cock form her hand, knocking it away. She complained "But..." and then agreed, "OK, OK," realizing his problem. Todd listened to her labored breathing, thinking I should be doing this to her, and She's dying for this. But he returned his hand to the other and placed his cheek atop them again. And Claire returned to fucking his ass with the big dildo.

It took five minutes, and then a frantic Claire was reaching for the harness and after removing the dildo and inserting and securing it in place, strapped it around her waist and around her thighs. Then she squat behind Todd the way he squat behind her, and fit the head of her new cock into his bottom. She panted, swiped at her hair, pushied it out of her face. Todd wondered how she could be so damned aroused. Maybe it was sympathetic, her actions triggering an automotive response in her, firing off millions of neurons. God knew he had millions of neurons firing off madly himself.

"I'll try not to hurt you," Claire panted.

Todd laughed, and then grunted as she gripped him either side of the waist and thrust her hips downward, too hard, easing as Todd gasped and threw a hand back and gripped her thigh.

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized profusely. More carefully, she pressed her hips forward and eased the dildo in to its full length. She's about to discover how strenuous it is, giving someone a good rutting, Todd thought. He kept his eyes closed and enjoyed the sensation of being royally fucked.

* * *

It was sometime after 3 A.M. They lay on their stomachs, side by side, cheeks pillowed on their crossed hands. Pillows buoyed their hips and each smiled at the other. Claire had a vibrator up her rear end; Todd's played host to the 9" dildo. Both felt incredibly happy.

"Never in a million years could I have ever imagined this," Todd said.

Claire giggled. Her vibrator purr sensually in the quiet room. Todd tried it on himself first, and didn't see the attraction. He liked the dildo. He didn't want to take it out. Ever.

"I could get addicted to this thing," he said softly.

"I am addicted to this," Claire sighed. She rolled her hips in a deliberately provocative manner, laughing. "But I like your cock better, Todd."

"Your cock ain't bad either, baby," he quipped, doing a poor imitation of her hip roll as she giggled like a teenager again.

They lay and smiled together, rear ends infinitely happy. After a time, Todd asked: "Is it safe to sleep like this? With our company?"

Claire shrugged. "Only one way to find out." She raised up and slid over and met Todd halfway. The kiss lingered, went on and on, and then Todd and Claire returned to their spots on the mattress. Before you knew you, Claire had drifted silently away, holding Todd's hand, smiling. Todd was only seconds behind. At the very edge of unconsciousness, a thought bubbled to the surface and lay partially exposed like a log, riding up and down on the waves. Lazily he reached out and turned the thought over, revealing the underside. Seen in its entirety, the thought posited: "Wasn't my 2nd car a green Olds Cutlass?"

July 5th, 1997

Todd steered the 10-year Olds with his left hand, accepted the joint with the other, pinched the end between his thumb and forefinger and put it to his lips. Staring at the Wind by U2 blared from the front speakers, tinny as hell because the sound system was stock and pitifully underpowered. In the passenger's seat was Kenny Rowe, and asleep in the back, Kevin Rowe, Kenny's twin brother. Kevin was dead to the world and snoring stentoriously. Outside, the landscape zipped by, gauzy in the misty, irksome rain. It had rained continuously for two days now and Todd was ready to see it end. Its oppressive attendance had left him dangerously desensitized. He was driving way too fast, and paying way two little attention. He didn't see the car ahead of him, for instance, until nearly too late. A blue sedan of some kind, probably American from its shapeless, bulky lines. Rather than slow, he decided to pass it on the double yellow line.

"Todd! Watch out!"

In the corner of his left eye he caught the shape of a man running, cutting across the road from left to right. He snapped his head around at the same time he slammed down on the brake with both feet. He and Kenny both yelled at the tops of their lungs as the old Cutlass, unequipped with anti-lock brakes, went into a sidelong skid, angling toward the graveled shoulder. It was the gravel that saved then, Todd later deduced. The sudden traction of the rear wheels spun the front end around and headed the car momentarily forward again. Inexperienced at defensive driving, Todd overcompensated and sent the Oldsmobile into an opposite-hand skid, executing a total of four, 3600 degree turns before coming to a shuddering halt at the side of the road. He sat panting, hands locked to the wheel, trembling head to foot.

"What's going on, man?" Kevin asked, blinking groggily, looking over the seatback. Todd and Kenny turned and stared at him, open mouthed. Through the rear window, Todd observed a man standing on the graveled shoulder, a hundred feet back, panting, obviously winded. The man was middle aged, maybe 50, Todd guessed. He squinted into the rain with a hand to his brow, protecting his eyes. There was something vaguely familiar about the man, Todd thought. Had he seen him before?

Kenny knuckled him on the shoulder.

"What?"

"Behind you, man."

Todd turned to see the blue sedan idling beside them. The passenger window slid down and revealed a light-haired woman of about 25, her eyebrows raised, questioning. She mouthed something and Todd numbly lowered the Cutlass's window.

"Are you okay?" the woman asked again.

Todd only stared at her. Then he turned to gaze out the rear window again, and what he saw further confused his muddled brain. The man had a cell phone in his hand, or what Todd took as a cell phone, although why did a thick black wire protrude from the bottom and disappear inside the man's open windbreaker? And then—he must have imagined this, he decided later, the shock of the accident misfiring his cannabis-poisoned neurons. Because, let's face it, a man can't suddenly turn into a poster-board cutout of himself, turn sideways and display his ¼" thickness, and then mysterious draw both ends into the middle and disappear in a wink of green light. Can he?

Blinking, startled, Todd turned back to the woman whose name he unaccountably knew was Claire, or Carrie, or Candice, or something of that ilk, and blinked at her stupidly.

Smiling, guessing the answer was yes, she raised her window again and indicated to the man driving to go on. A moment later the sedan drove away, disappearing around the curve ahead and into the raid, no longer a drizzle but drumming remorselessly on the Cutlass's roof, hood and trunk. And though Todd never guessed the make and model of the car, or how he knew the beautiful newlywed's name, he never forgot her emerald green eyes.

THE END