Foreword: Nothing much to say about this one. Since I like to alternate between gay and straight, and I wrote a gay one last time, it was time for a straight fic. My husband gave me the keyword “shambolic” today, but what the hell was I meant to do with that? So I just decided to run with a spur-of-the-moment idea about some horny neighbours. Enjoy.
A Neighbourly Hand
What happens between Tom and I is nothing short of complete chaos. Tom is my next-door neighbour, and before you say anything – yes, I know – this is an extremely cliche and yet such a convenient way to get some action. I mean, what’s easier than popping over to the house right beside your own to borrow eggs to make a cake and then in the process get your own eggs smashed to bits by the recently divorced guy you’ve been eyeing up for the part year or so? Nothing is easier than that.
I’ve been single for at least two and a half years now, since my ex Richard decided his manager at work was a much better catch. Oh yes, now he’s with a man and he won’t even let me watch them having sex, the cheek of him! Of course he wouldn’t. After all, someone with my voyeuristic kinks can’t be trusted to be present during an activity like that. Assuming he enjoys getting anal now but wouldn’t ever go near me if I had a strap-on would just makes me want to retch. Maybe he was just scared of how I’d react if he looked like he was getting off on it too much? I’d have been ecstatic, that’s what! The fact that he came out as bisexual has nothing to do with it. We were just wrong for each other from the start.
But let’s go back to Tom. He’s the main attraction. This is a man who works from home, which makes it harder for him to go out and meet potential girlfriends and easier for me to sneak over in the middle of the day for a quick romp. So, you may be wondering – how did it all start? Well, that part of the story is actually the boring part. We crossed paths for the first time the day he moved in with his wife. I was airing my laundry outside in the back garden when I heard the removal van pull up. Naturally, I was curious to meet the new neighbours so I stopped what was doing and went to take a peek and say hello. Tom and a guy from the removal company were carrying a two-seater sofa from the van. He spotted me just as he was about to take the sofa over the threshold into the house. I waved. He nodded since his hands were full.
After that, we barely spoke for what seemed like months, save for the occasional over-the-fence greeting. That is, until I managed to break my ankle in the stupidest way possible – by tripping over my own shoes. Normally, that would simply result in a sprain, but being my accident-prone self, the bone completely broke and I had to have it in a cast. One afternoon, I was sitting in my living room watching repeat episodes of Jeremy Kyle. I hate that show. I mean, Jeremy is a legend for the sheer amount of bullshit he has to put up with and his ballsy straight-talking attitude, but I have to question the people who actually apply to feature on it in the first place. Anyway, that’s beside the point. I was sitting there, watching TV and minding my own business, when I had the wonderful idea to try and bake a cake. Marble cake has been a long-time favourite sweet treat of mine, and since I wanted something to take my mind off the pain in my ankle, that seemed like the perfect solution. I hobbled into the kitchen with my crutches and opened the fridge. I had everything I needed, except eggs. The shop was a good ten minute walk away and with it being early January there was ice all over the pavements. So I considered the fact that this might be a great opportunity to get to know the neighbours. I’d been far too lazy with that kind of thing in the past and I decided that if I wanted eggs, it would be from them. Also, I wasn’t going to risk slipping and potentially breaking more of the fragile bones in my body.
I put on my coat and made my way outside, along the only sliver of path that wasn’t frozen, towards the house next door. I balanced on one crutch and rang the doorbell. As I waited, I could see my breath materialising in the air. A figure approached, their clothes and movements creating a kind of coloured mosaic behind the mottled glass. The door opened. It was Tom.
He stared at me for a moment, blankly. “H-Hi. Can I help you?”
“Sorry to be a bother,” I said, feeling a guilty smile creeping across my face. “I’m Jessica, from next door. Do you happen to have some eggs I could borrow?”
“Well, that’s just classic.” He laughed. “Are you really after some eggs, or is this just an excuse to talk to me?”
“No, not at all.” I felt my cheeks burn a little. “I just wanted to bake a marble cake but the shop’s a bit far with my ankle being the way it is at the moment.”
He cast his eyes down towards my sorry looking foot. “What on earth happened to you?”
“This is going to sound ridiculous, but I fell over my own feet.”
Again, he just laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. That is such a klutzy way to break something.”
“So…” I was freezing my tits off and just wanted what I went there for. “Do you have any eggs or-?”
“Of course, come in.”
“Oh, no it’s alright. I don’t want to use up too much of your time. I’ll wait out here.”
“Jessica, please. We barely know each other,” he said. “Anyway, I love a bit of marble cake, why don’t you use our kitchen to make it? Give us a chance to get acquainted.”
“Well, thanks. That’s very kind of you.” He opened the door wider and I hopped up into the carpeted entrance. “I’d love to meet your wife, so I suppose I could stay for a while. Beats watching Jeremy Kyle by myself.”
“Ah, daytime TV, the bane of my life,” he said, shaking his head. “Actually, Helen isn’t here right now, she’s with one of her friends in Australia. It’s summer over there. Lucky woman.”
“Ooh, very nice.” Australia was nice. I’d been with Richard once. “You didn’t go with her?”
“Nah, too much work on at the moment. Plus, I hate travelling for long periods.”
I rested my crutches by the staircase and Tom took my coat.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay walking around like that?” he asked, raising one eyebrow inquisitively.
“Oh yeah, don’t worry about it. The crutches are just for when I’m outside. It can get a bit slippery this time of year.”
Tom nodded and motioned through the doorway. “Come through and take a seat.”
“I like how you’ve brightened up the place. The last owners didn’t bother.”
“That’s all Helen’s work.”
I was genuinely impressed by what I saw. “Well, she’s got an eye for detail, I’ll give her that.”
“Yeah.” He sniffed and turned his back to me as I hobbled into the living room behind him. “Too bad she’s…” his voice grew quieter and slightly muffled.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I took a seat in his massive black leather armchair. God, that felt comfortable.
“Nothing important,” he said. He slid a matching footstool across the carpet. “Here, put your feet up on this.”
“Thanks,” I said, beaming him a smile.
He put his arm out and poked me gently on the nose, somewhat childishly. He returned the smile and then stroked my left cheek. “You’re really pretty, you know.”
I was lost for words. It had been far too long since a guy had said that to me. In fact, had it ever been explicitly mentioned? I couldn’t be sure. He probably realised what he said was weird and retracted his hand but instinctively, I grabbed his wrist to stop him.
“Do you want to…see more of me?”
“Uh…” He was visibly taken aback by my suggestion and he averted his eyes. “I-I’m going to make a pot of tea.” He pulled his wrist free and shook his arm as though it would erase my touch.
I mentally chided myself. What was I even saying? Of course he wouldn’t know how to react. He’s a married man and we are practically strangers. It wasn’t like me to make a move like that. But he was the one who complimented me first. I assumed I’d misread the situation and let out a frustrated sigh.
A couple of minutes later, he returned with the tea and two cups and placed them on the coffee table. “Have some tea. It’ll warm you up.”
“Look Tom, I just want to apologise-”
“Don’t worry about it,” he laughed. “I shouldn’t have lead you on like that. It was strange of me to say that out of nowhere, wasn’t it?”
“Well, yes it was. But I wasn’t exactly upset by it. In fact, I’m…” I bit my bottom lip softly. My knickers were damp where I could barely contain my excitement. I put my hands in my lap and tried to cover my crotch as best I could.
“You’re…what?” he asked. He walked over to me and put the palm of his hand over my forehead. “Wow, you’re really burning up. Maybe you’ve got a fever.”
“N-no, I’m fine.” I said. “Just…I want you to…”
He knelt down beside me. “How can I help?”
“I-I’m so sorry…”
He cocked his head to one side and furrowed his brows. “What fo-”
I lifted my top a little so I could unzip my jeans. My midriff was exposed. He gave me a concerned look, but I couldn’t hold back. I grabbed his hand and shoved it between my knickers and jeans. I resented my actions immediately but I’d already shown him exactly how horny I was. There was no going back now. I could feel him trembling, but he didn’t withdraw his hand. Instead, he pushed his fingers into my pussy through the material of my knickers. Probably because he’d been carrying the tea, his fingertips were warm against me.
“Is this…okay?” I asked, not wanting to subject him to some kind of sexual harassment.
He lifted his free hand and brought it to my face, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I want to help you however I can. If that means making you come, so be it.”
The word ‘come’ just seemed to roll off his tongue so smoothly. It made me wonder how good he was at dirty talking his wife.
I smiled and pulled my jeans down past my hips and halfway down my legs. “Then fuck me with those fingers, Tom.”
He gazed at me, a little sultrily. “You only had to ask.”
He started by massaging the area around the soft, wet cotton of my knickers, running them up and down my moist slit, the fabric rubbing gloriously against me. On each upstroke, he’d purposely flick at my clit which caused me to jolt involuntarily. He teased the sensitive area between my legs and pussy, pulled my knickers away from me slightly, his fingers making direct contact with my labia.
He smirked as he stuck two of his fingers inside me. “You’re seriously wet, aren’t you?”
“Well, you seem to be helping quite a bit.” I laughed. “Seems like you know exactly what to do.”
“Oh, I am going to make you beg for more.” He went all the way in, twisting, turning and scissoring me closer to orgasm. Each thrust was like a shock of electricity surging through me. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in so long. Sure, I could always masturbate, but it was never going to be the same as having a flesh and blood man ravaging my hole with his skilled fingers, and Tom was very good at it.
I clocked the bulge that was tenting beneath his trousers.
“Do you want me to stimulate you with my tongue?”
The suggestion was music to my ears. “What do you think?”
He closed in on my ear, still with two fingers fucking me mercilessly and breathed into it. “I think you’d that very much.”
Then, he took my hand and pressed it against the head of his cock, forcing me to wrap my fingers around it. He was ridiculously turned on. For a moment, he stopped touching me. I watched as he pulled his fingers out and a line of my juices followed. He stuck them in his mouth and sucked every last bit off. It got me even more flustered knowing that he’d tasted me before his tongue had even made contact. Then, he got down on his knees and shifted my knickers down my legs, being careful not to knock against my damaged ankle. He took one look at my fully exposed offering and beamed the cutest smile a girl could ask for. It was daring and flirtatious, and yet at the same time so full of mystery. He buried his face in my crotch and lapped away at my engorged, firm clit like a hungry dog.
I twitched, involuntarily again, as the warmth of his tongue enveloped my arousal so tenderly. He wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked on it, applying such a good amount of pressure it made me want to scream. Then, he thrust his fingers back inside me. I was positively dripping. As his movements quickened, he explored my entrance with his tongue just as thoroughly as his fingers were. He prised my pussy lips apart with his index finger and thumb and jutted his tongue inside, eagerly tracing the edges of my vaginal walls and every few seconds switching to full-on oral penetration. I writhed in a display of ecstasy and as he moaned, the vibrations tingled my entire body so blissfully it almost hurt.
I took the back of his head and pulled it in closer and he responded by sucking and fucking me with that mouth and those fingers even more vigorously than before. I held onto the arms of the chair, the leather squeaking beneath my grip. He must have sensed I was nearing my limit and reached up to run his hands underneath my jumper, pulling off my bra to release my breasts. Then he pinched my nipples hard between his fingers. That was my weak spot. Nipple stimulation always brought me that much closer to the edge.
“Ah, shit. Y-you’re going to make me-”
By that point, I was really struggling to stop it all from just spilling out. So I didn’t try anymore. I let go, bucking my hips upwards as far as I could. Then, I gushed right into his willing mouth, fountains of transparent spray bursting forth and out around his ears, coating his hair. Puddles of the stuff pooled out onto the surface of his leather chair. I was a squirter, and I was making absolutely sure he knew it.
Finally, he came up for breath, gasping and wiping his face with his sleeve.
“Jesus Christ, Jessica. That was incredible…”
I panted, trying my hardest to recuperate from the overwhelming experience he’d just given me. “And you’re so fucking good, Tom. I mean it. That was exactly what I needed.”
“Glad you approve of my technique,” he said. Then, he looked down at my ankle. “How’s the foot?”
“It’s fine. You’re such a good boy,” I winked. “You didn’t knock it once.”
“For the record, this is the first time I’ve ever done something like this. Helen hates me going down on her.”
“Seriously? What woman doesn’t like oral sex?”
We both laughed as he helped me pull up my knickers and jeans.
“Well…” I said. “You know where to find me, and I know where to find you.”
He smiled. “I don’t think I’ll be able to leave you alone.”
“What should we do about Helen?” I got up and walked over to the stairs to retrieve my coat and crutches.
“Helen is…in love with someone else.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I mean, nothing’s actually been confirmed by her, but I know there’s another person on the scene.”
“So…do you know who he is?”
“She” said Tom, correcting me. “The one Helen’s in Australia with right now.”
“Ah…that’s tricky.” I knew how he felt. This had happened with Richard too.
“Is it, though?” he said. “It would be the same if she seeing another man.”
“I suppose that’s true. Love is love either way.” I look at my watch. “Anyway, I better be going.”
“Late for the next episode of Jeremy Kyle?” he teased.
I jabbed him lightly in the ribs. “Shut up. I’m telling you I don’t like that programme.”
“Alright, I’m going to make sure I see you soon.”
“Yeah, later.” I waved as he closed the door and let out a sigh of relief.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
I turned back around and knocked on Tom’s door. He answered almost immediately, with a cheeky grin. “Back for more already?”
“No.” I chastised him with my glare. “I forgot to take the eggs.”
“Tell you what?” he began. “Give me a blowjob and you can have those eggs.”
“Are you…blackmailing me?” I chortled, amused by his backhanded tactics.
“Blackmail?” he took a step backwards, looked around and pulled his trousers down far enough that he could show me just how hard he was – in the flesh. “Are you going to call this blackmail?”
I smiled and reached out to touch the tip, which was glistening with pre-cum. It was so smooth and inviting that I was salivating just looking at it. “Well, okay. I’ll be kind and drop the charges.”
He tasted good, let me tell you. I sucked him to explosion. When he came, he came like a volcano.
And that’s why getting to know your neighbours can be a real payoff.