tagBDSMMy Neighbor Ch. 2

My Neighbor Ch. 2


For the next four or five days I managed to stay away from my sewing room anytime when Peter might be home. I was even recovering a little until one hot August afternoon my virile neighbor caught me working in the yard. All I had on was a T-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts, the gym class kind with the short loose legs and elastic at the waist. My only underwear was a pair of bikini panties barely big enough to keep my pussy decent under those skimpy shorts. I was dirty and wet with sweat.

I wasn't even aware that Peter was there until he spoke to me. "Hi, Melanie, isn't it time you took a break"

He was already standing over me when I looked up. I knew in an instant he was taking inventory of my bare legs, and of my braless nipples clearly outlined against my thin damp T-shirt. Peter didn't have much on in the way of clothes either, only a low cut spandex bathing suit that showcased an impressive bulge in front, and a pair of tight buns in the back. I panicked, my eyes frozen on that big bulge at his crotch, and at once fearfully conscious being on my knees before this scary male as if I was already his willing and obedient love slave.

My head began to swim, and I thought, "If I lean forward just a bit, I will be able to lick his crotch. I wonder if I can taste his cock through his swim suit?"

"Damn it Melanie," I told myself, "what are you doing? Don't think about things that. "

But I couldn't help myself. I knew how vulnerable I must look kneeling there in the dirt in my revealing gym shorts and T-shirt. Under the wet fabric that covered them, my braless breasts were clearly outlined. Worse, hanging free as they were, they swayed with my every move. In this sexy show I was putting on for Peter despite myself, I might as well have been topless. Too weak to rise, I stayed where I was, vigorously pulling weeds as if to prove it was not submission that kept me on my knees.

"Hello, Peter, how are you?" I had answered, too quickly, and I instantly regretted that I had not stood up.

Peter grinned at me, somewhat evilly I thought. "Lady, you're all hot and sweaty. Come on over to my pool. You need to take a swim and cool off, and maybe something tall and cold to drink." Masculine charm just oozed from his invitation.

"No, I don't think so," and I added my answer as quickly as my wits would allow, "These weeds are taking over..., I..., I've got finish this flower bed."

"Nonsense, I have a friend of yours at my house, and the daiquiris are already made. Come on and cool off in the pool. You can dive right in with what you have on."

Becky must be there I thought to myself. God, how can I face her after spying on her the way I have? Anyway, I must stay away from this man, or I'll be in the same fix she is.

"No, I just can't Peter. I'm not fit to be seen in public, and besides I smell"

"You always smell just like a woman should, Melanie. Sweet with perfume, but with a real female scent underneath."

His answer to my excuse confirmed my suspicions. "So he HAS smelled me going into heat," I thought.

I looked up longingly again at that lovely bulge. I needed to stand, but it was perhaps safer to stay on my knees. As ready as I was to submit to this man, it was certainly more appropriate. Peter decided the issue by lifting me by my arm pits. On my feet, but very close to him, at least I was no longer staring at his crotch Now I was looking directly into the hairy tan of his broad chest. My new view wasn't any easier on my raging libido and collapsing confidence. God how I wanted to bury my face in all that hair, breathe in his odor, and taste him with my tongue.

"Come on now!" He had his arm over my shoulder now, and was pulling me toward his driveway. "I'm not going to take no for an answer young lady. It is definitely time you had a swim and a cool drink."

"No, No, Peter, I mustn't..., I mean I can't..., Please, Peter...,"

I protested all the while he was walking me out of my yard into his. Maybe with Becky there, it will be all right I thought. Surely he wouldn't make a pass at me with her there. That, I knew, was pure bull shit. Eddie Farmer wouldn't have cared what Becky thought, and Peter won't either. He knows about me, the way I am, and he is taking me to his house to fuck me! God help me, why can't I stop him?

Peter continued to ignore my excuses why "I just couldn't" as he pulled me along. A dozen steps and were at the gate to his back yard. Surely I could at least try to pull away from him couldn't I? No, somehow I just didn't have the will! Did I even want to escape? Escape from what..., that thick ten inches of heaven sent male meat between Peters legs? Or was it ten inches of hell? What did I want? In my panic I wasn't at all certain. A dozen more steps and we were through the gate and onto the paved deck of my neighbor's pool.

"Melanie, I think you know Rebecca Angle..., the Reverend Angle's wife." That last, the part about being the preacher' wife, I knew he added to be snide and cruel to poor Becky who was already so flustered she could barely say hello.

"Certainly! How are you Becky," I replied trying to sound as natural as possible. Becky stammered something I couldn't quite catch in reply and pulled the terry cloth robe she was wearing tighter around her neck. Her bare legs, and the pile of her clothes on a chair, gave her away. I was sure that she was quite nude underneath, and had grabbed the robe in her panic when she realized her lover wasn't coming back alone.

"Where are our manners Becky," Peter asked facetiously. By all means bring Melanie a daiquiri."

Becky needed something to do, some way to escape her embarrassment, and she was quick to respond. The tall ice tea glass felt cold in my hand. I was hot and dry, and the icy rum and lemon tartness hit the spot, even easing my confusion a bit.

It did occur to me tho that an alcoholic buzz was not exactly what I needed in my situation. Anyway, I don't think daiquiris are usually served in tall ice tea glasses, but I was hot, thirsty and flustered..,, and ambivalent about what was almost certainly going to happen to me. I gulped the big glass of strong liquor for the want of any better solution to my dilemma. By the time I had downed the second glass full, my head began to swim. As I staggered, Peter caught me in his arms, hugging me for the second time to that masculine bare chest. With his chest hair in my nose, I could enjoy his smell again. That threatening bulge in the crotch of his bathing suit was rubbing up against my belly. God it all felt soooo good..., but a voice inside me kept saying "come on Melanie you've got to get a hold of yourself."

I wasn't listening. The voice inside me never the less continued to scream, "Run, Melanie, Run!"

"Thank you, Peter," I told him as I pulled away. "I'm all right now. I was just a little dizzy there for a minute. Let me take a swim. I'm sure I'll feel better when I cool off." With that I dived into the water before he could hug my body against his again.

The cool water of the pool was refreshing, and it cleared my head a bit. I was, however, still feeling the effect those two big rum drinks. I shouldn't have swallowed them so quickly. For the next few minutes I deliberately ignored Peter and Becky with a series of lazy backstroke laps back and forth across the pool. I had to get out and face them sometime tho, and finally I pulled myself up the pool ladder.

What I saw gave me a jolt.

Peter had stripped both Becky and himself to the skin. He was sitting on the lounge with his feet off the end holding the naked body of his fellow school teacher held firmly between his legs as she struggled mightily to free herself.

"Please don't do this to me, Peter," she pleaded with her lover. "I can't be here with you like this! Not with Melanie here.., Please Peter."

"Come here, Melanie," Peter called to me.

"Rebecca didn't believe me when I told her that we have nothing to hide from you. Tell her Melanie. Tell her how you have been watching me fuck her for weeks now. I can't always tell when you are up there, but I know that you have been looking and listening. How many times, Melanie? How many times have you heard the preacher's wife here beg to suck my cock..., Please, Please, Peter, God Yesss Pete, Please Fuck Me?'"

At the last, Peter's voice raised to a falsetto, mocking Becky's feminine pitch.

I couldn't think of what to say. Becky had stopped trying to escape from between her lover's legs, and was staring at me open mouthed shaking her head silently denying that anything of what Peter said could possibly be true. Finally I found my tongue. "Yes Rebecca its true. I have watched while you and Peter had sex together, and I am ashamed of that. But you Peter, you should be ashamed too. You trapped her into this, and now you're trying to do the same thing to me."

With that I started to step by them toward the gate. It was a good try, I didn't quite make it. Peter's hand snaked up and caught my wrist in a steel grip as I tried to go past him.

"No, No, you don't my horny little cunt," he said pulling me down to my knees on the pool deck beside him.

"I know when a housewife is aching for somebody to feed her wet pussy some real man meat, and you lady need to be fucked about as badly as any I've ever seen. What say you suck on it a little first to get us both hot and ready."

With that he turned Becky loose, and yanked me to my knees replacing her between his legs. Restrained by one with the hand around my wrist, he used his other one to gasp a fistful of my hair and force my face into his crotch. For a long moment he just held me there with the silky soft skin of his bare cock pressed firmly against my cheek and lips.

I could feel him beginning to harden as he again asked, "You do want to suck my cock? That is what you want..., isn't it?"

My tongue was suddenly frozen. I could not even stammer a reply. Certainly, I wanted to suck him. To deny this man anything he desired was out of the question. I wanted to tell him so, but memories of Eddie Farmer came flooding back. I had been shattered when Eddie replaced me with some other piece of coed pussy every bit as ready and eager as I was to satisfy his dick.

Now another man was holding my face against his big cock, again demanding my submission. Was submission the answer? Once he tired of using me, wouldn't he take away his cock and throw me aside the same way Eddie did?

But..., there was no time to waste..., he certainly would if I didn't please him. If I couldn't speak, then I must act. I opened as wide as I could and sucked as much of him into my mouth as I could force down my throat. Eddie had taught me how sensitive the ridge around the head of a penis is, and I gave that notch special attention with my tongue. As he began to harden, I bobbed my head up and down over this ever stiffening rod, furiously raking him with my lips, masturbating him with my mouth.

As I sucked, I heard him talking to Becky calmly chastising her for her jealousy.

"You see my sweet slut, while you were pouting and being silly, some other whore has come along and stolen your toy. Be a good girl and I'll let you play with yourself while I get it on with Melanie. I'll even fuck you again later on. If you don't straighten up your act tho, I'm going to hang you from the gym bar over there with one vibrator in your pussy and a second one up your ass. While hang there, you can watch while I fuck little Melanie with the cock that won't fill your cunt today, maybe never again.

What you will get is my belt across your sorry fat ass before I send you back to your preacher man. With such a pretty neighbor in my bed, who needs you anyway? Well, what will it be cunt? You want to be a good girl and help me fuck this little blond tramp, or would you rather be hung by your wrists to watch me fuck her, then be whipped, and sent home to live with an unsatisfied pussy? Those are your only two choices."

"You win Peter," I heard Becky reply. "You know that I'll do anything to have you fuck me. O.K., I'll play your in your dirty little game if only you don't send me away, but don't forget your promise to fuck me again before I go home."

"O.K., then! Help me strip this little whore. I want her naked and climbing the walls when I fuck her. Remember how bad you needed my cock that first time, Rebecca? Remember how good it felt to be laid down all naked and horny, and then have my big hard dick in your cunt? Well, Melanie here is in the same fix. A slut has no shame when she's horny. Just like you did, Melanie will beg me like a whore to stuff her hot cunt with my meat. Afterwards, just like you, she will want more, and she'll do any slutty thing I want to earn it."

It was my mouth, not my ears that were filled with Peter's prick. I could hear every cruel demeaning word, and I hated myself for the truth of what he said. You would think that I would be too humiliated to allow him to go on degrading me. Well, humiliated I was, but that didn't change the my situation. He was right. More than anything I wanted to be on my back, my legs spread, with his huge prong splitting me open. Certainly I would beg him to fuck me. No price was too great to have his prick in me, but right at that moment, I was unwilling to take him out of my mouth so that I could tell him so.

Abruptly, Peter solved my problem. "O.K., Melanie my sweet little slut, that's enough for now. Stand up! Let's get a look at you. Rebecca you help her pull that wet T-shirt over her head while I get her out of these shorts."

"All right bitch," he was talking to me again now, "raise your arms like a good little tramp, and let Becky get that T-shirt off. I want to see your tits."

In less time than it takes to tell about it, the two of them had me stripped, and I was standing nude before my new cock master, while he inventoried my sexual assets.

"Well now," Peter said as he reached up and took a tit in each hand as if weighing them against each other, "What a nice body. Any man would be proud to take it as his own."

Suddenly Peter's voice lost its soft pleasant tone, and in a growl he snapped at me. "Listen to me bitch and listen good. Your body is mine now. From toenails to ass hole, to the hair on your head, I own you. I will do to you, and with you, whatever pleases me. You slut, will do as I tell you. Nothing in your wretched yuppie life matters anymore but serving my cock. If you disobey me, I'll hang you up by your thumbs and whip the skin right off your cute little ass. For right now I choose to amuse myself playing with your tits and pussy. I will do that often. Your first lesson as my cunt slave will be how to offer your body for my pleasure."

Suddenly Peter became a Marine drill sergeant as he fired out his rapid fire orders. "THIS BITCH, IS HOW YOU WILL OFFER YOURSELF TO ME!!







His instructions came fast and furious as if he was daring me to question him or make a mistake, but I had been a man's sexual plaything before. I knew to be quick and not to resist or protest.

"This is 'cunt attention,'" he instructed. "It is the way you will stand whenever I, or anyone else that I may give you to, wishes to play with your body. It is your first lesson in how I expect you to serve me. Remember, you aren't a spoiled yuppie housewife any longer. You have reverted to what mother nature meant you to be, a tramp, a whore, a horny slut whose only value in life is the service of a man's penis."

Damn him! He was right! I was again the property of a cruel male animal..., a return to my roots as it were, my destiny, my natural state..., once more I was common female trash in heat..., a man's plaything..., all tits, ass and cunt..., an animal pet to be used and abused at whim of my owner. Oh, how I did need to be fucked by this man's proud prick! God help me! It was all so terrible..., and so wonderful.

Terrible or wonderful, it made no difference. I stood there offering my body to this man, my eye lids tightly shut, my legs spread, my hands locked behind my head. I must have been the very picture of female submission, naked and quivering, my tits protruding, all my most private parts open and available to Peter's hands and mouth. Any resistance or protest was useless now. I was trapped, and doomed to my fate as a female slave.

I waited expectantly. Surely my new owner would take full advantage his tempting and helpless slut, but at first nothing happened. Peter was teasing me, making me anticipate my fate. There was nothing I could do but hold that humiliating pose even as puss juice leaked down my leg. I was filled with fear..., and passion. I hated myself for allowing this man to abuse me like this, but I lusted for him to begin.

"Damn you Peter Carr," I thought, "play with my tits, play with my pussy, finger my ass hole. BEGIN DAMN IT!"

Then at last...,there it was, a finger tip gently stroking the slit between my legs. It was a caress was so unexpectedly soft and loving that I could not help but gasp in surprise. Loving he may have been, but Peter was also merciless. Once begun, he played me like a violin. His tongue, his hands, his fingers, they roamed everywhere, testing, teasing, tormenting, searching for the slut in me. Behind my ears, the back of my knees, under my tits, my arm pits, and up and down my legs, everywhere he teased and tempted me with shameless caresses.

He knew my horny body had no defense to his sublime torture. He intended that I should be shattered and torn apart by my need for his cock. How long did it last? I have know idea, but suffering as I was from my pitiful desire to be fucked, it seemed like hours. When at last he returned to caress my legs and to stroke my inner thighs so near to my aching pussy. I thought I could stand it no more.

"Good God," I said to myself, "if he doesn't fuck me soon, surely I will die," but damn him, even so close to my core, he refused to so much as run a finger up inside my pussy.

"Please..., Please...," I thought. I was desperate to release the orgasm that was building in my belly.

But no, this exploration of my body was for his pleasure, not mine. He could see my frustration and he was enjoying it. His mouth and fingers skipped past my crotch to and up to my vulnerable tits. These he rolled roughly in his palms before taking my nipples between his finger tips, playing with them, alternately tugging and pinching those tender nubs.

Oh but that felt so good! Wonderful warm tingling sensations ran from my tortured tits down to my aching clit. God damn him tho, just as I was once more on the edge of an orgasm, he took his hands away as suddenly as they had come. Shortly, however, I felt his mustache brush inside my navel, but only very briefly before moving to join the fingers that were exploring my inner thighs. Then moving upward, those soft mouth hairs concentrated at the crease where my legs joined my torso, followed at long last by a finger that probed my pussy.

That finger was soon joined by second one, and then a third as he split my sex apart. In and out he pumped those wonderful fingers, and all the while he was rubbing my tender clit with an opposing thumb. I was right in the middle of a shattering orgasm when, damn him to hell, suddenly his hand was gone from between my legs. One of those wet fingers pushed its way inside my mouth, soon to be joined by the other two. All were covered with my pussy juices. My owner spoke for the first time. I would, he ordered, suck those fingers as if they were his penis.

The taste of my own cunt overwhelmed me. My orgasms came in waves, and unable to remain silent any longer, I began to whimper. I did so want Peter's manhood inside me, but I suspected that more trials were yet to come.

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