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The Neighbor Next Door

Page 4

by Cassandra Dee


  EasyDude: how is it?

  HeartLove: I think I’m going to cum

  EasyDude: that’s right, keep going, rub that clit, and think about how I wish I could stuff you with my huge cock

  I moan at the thought, rubbing faster. Another message comes up.

  EasyDude: when you’re really close, use one hand to keep rubbing your clit, and the other to pinch one of your nipples

  How does he know this stuff? But I do as he commands: moaning louder and louder, I bring a thumb and index finger up to my left nipple as I use my right fingers to keep rubbing my slippery clit. And as I pinch and pull my tits, my pussy contracts so hard the force of my orgasm throws my body back onto the bed, seizing up in pleasure.

  Unnh! Oh god! For a few moments I lay back in the incredible aftershocks of my orgasm, waiting for my breath and heartbeat to return to normal. I start getting sleepy, my body fully relaxing, but another ping reminds me that EasyDude is waiting for my reply.

  EasyDude: are you okay?

  HeartLove: yes

  EasyDude: that wasn’t too much was it? I’m sorry if I went a little OTT there, thinking about you just got me so hot

  Hmm, he’s so charming and caring, as well as hot. I suddenly find myself wishing he was here with me, so that I can look into his eyes.

  HeartLove: you have nothing to apologize for

  HeartLove: I enjoyed it. That orgasm was so intense

  EasyDude: I’m glad :)

  EasyDude: I came so hard too

  I pause for a moment, eyes wide.

  HeartLove: you did?

  EasyDude: of course ;) thinking about you doing all that stuff to yourself had me close from the get go

  HeartLove: oh wow. You must be experienced.

  Part of me sort of knows the answer already, and I don't really want to hear him say it. I can see him typing, so I wait it out.

  EasyDude: I kinda feel corny saying this, but it feels like we have a bit of a connection

  Immediately, a smile breaks over my face. Because he could have said something like yeah, I’ve been with fifty girls and you’re number fifty-one, or I’ve been surfing ChatWorld for a decade now. But the thought of a connection? It makes me go warm inside.

  HeartLove: I know what you mean :)

  Another ping brings me out of my deep concentration, and I see it’s from Ying. Oh shit, she’s outside my house already. I completely forgot she was giving me a ride to the library. Leaving my sleepy, post-orgasmic reverie behind on the bed, I jump up and throw on my clothes before rushing out to meet her. But one thought keeps chugging along in my mind, even as we study for Monday’s exam. I want to meet this EasyDude in person. Maybe, just maybe, I can tempt him to visit me here in Iowa?

  7

  Trent

  Fucking hell, this HeartLove is just my type. And a virgin to boot. Thinking of popping her cherry, pushing my huge dick into that tiny pussy, makes me hard. I’d go slowly and carefully at first, then when’s she’s used it, harder and faster until she screams.

  Plus, the way she so innocently agreed to do all the things I suggested makes my cock jerk and twitch. She needed my guidance, but once we were on a roll, the girl took to it like a duck to water. In fact, it’s kinda like someone made up this HeartLove avatar for me specifically. Is that possible? Would ChatWorld do that? Or even worse, is there a police officer on the other side, trying to catch me? Fuck my life.

  But naw. The cops have better things to do than surf dating websites, right? Don’t they have to lock up criminals and bust drug rings? So I put it out of my head for the time being. Besides, I’ve got the entire weekend before me, and it stretches out, long and luxurious. This was something that I never had while in jail. There, your days are regimented by the hour, if not the half-hour.

  So what to do with my time? Maybe I could go to the local garden center and get some shrubs. Working hard these past few weeks has caused me to neglect my own yard, which is in need of a little landscaping. But before I can pull on my boots and get in my truck, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Oh shit. We only finished speaking about an hour ago, but HeartLove has already messaged me again.

  HeartLove: hey :)

  She’s so cute. I wonder what she wants.

  EasyDude: hey yourself :)

  HeartLove: I’m supposed to be studying, but I can’t stop thinking about earlier

  EasyDude: yeah it was so hot

  HeartLove: I sure wish you didn’t live in Florida. I would love to meet you in person.

  My heart beats in my chest. Oh fuck fuck fuck. I’d forgotten I lied to her about where I lived. Maybe this is the time to put it right?

  EasyDude: I have something to confess

  There’s a pause and I can almost see her eyelids flickering.

  HeartLove: what's that?

  EasyDude: I don’t actually live in Florida. I live in Iowa, like you. In fact, I saw that you put that you’re from Littleton? I’m from around thereabouts as well.

  I guess I’m just new to this too and I wanted to take the pressure off having to meet.

  EasyDude: I dunno. Call it self-preservation

  Another pause.

  EasyDude: I’m sorry I bent the truth

  A few moments go by and she doesn’t reply. Shit. I fucking blew it. Typical. I’m about to stuff my phone back in my pocket and head out to my truck when it vibrates again.

  HeartLove: It’s ok I totally understand

  Relief floods through me and I’m surprised to find I care so much about this.

  EasyDude: great :)

  HeartLove: I’m just happy you’re in Iowa! But that makes my question even easier. Can I meet you? Is that okay?

  And the relief is replaced by dread. I’m too old for an eighteen year-old virgin. If that’s even her real age. I slump back down on the sofa and rub my temples, contemplating my options. If I agree to meet her, I risk ruining her perfect little existence. What right do I have to walk into a teenage girl’s life with all the shit I’ve caused, and taint such an innocent female? Just because I’m turned on by her purity and goodness? It doesn’t matter that it’s her idea to meet. Just like it didn’t matter that it’d been that other girl’s idea to let me fuck her on her parents’ dining table. I have to learn from past lessons.

  HeartLove: hello…?

  Oh shit, I’ve let her wait. She probably thinks I don’t want to meet her now, which frankly, couldn’t be further from the truth. If I choose not to meet her, I’d only be walking through this town for the rest of my time here wondering who she is. Expecting, no even hoping to bump into her somehow at every little bistro or corner mart. It’s no use. I’ll have to meet this girl or I’ll go crazy. But still, it’s important to be careful. I can’t risk another stint in jail after all.

  Unfortunately, HeartLove’s already lost hope while I was thinking.

  HeartLove: sorry, that was a stupid idea

  And I scramble to type back before she can change her mind

  EasyDude: hey, sorry for making you wait

  EasyDude: I definitely want to meet you

  HeartLove: you do?

  I can almost feel her smile through the text message.

  EasyDude: of course :) I want to meet your sweet self in person. I bet you're even more gorgeous than in my mind.

  HeartLove: haha! I hope I can live up to that image

  EasyDude: I have no doubt

  EasyDude: shall we say next week?

  I want to give myself the chance to think this over. If in a week from now, I still think it’s a good idea, I’ll go through with it. I figure this is the most responsible compromise I can make.

  HeartLove: sounds good, I only hope I can wait that long

  EasyDude: You and me both, baby.

  EasyDude: do you know Burger Bistro btw? The one over on Main in downtown?

  It’s best to keep our first meeting in public, for all our sakes. She seems to agree.

  HeartLove: Yes :)

  EasyDude: me
et me there at 1pm next Saturday?

  HeartLove: Yes :)

  My heart’s pumping when I see her answer. Stay calm, the voice in my head says. Anything can happen.

  But that’s it exactly. Anything can happen, and I have to take precautions. At one p.m., it’ll be broad daylight with crowds of people walking up and down the main drag. I’m checking off all the boxes on my “responsible-adult-who’s-meeting-a-teenage-girl-he-met-online” list, if there is such a thing. Groaning, I shamefully already start regretting my decision. But I can’t help it. This girl is so innocent and intriguing at once, and she’s just my type. Damnit! I should have known from the beginning where this would lead. I’m just going to have to make sure, somehow, that HeartLove’s not underage this time. But how? Should I ask her to bring her birth certificate? Clearly, I don’t know how to spot fake driver’s licenses.

  Plus, I’m going to have to make sure, somehow, that the girl’s not going to be ruined by me and my shitty past. After all, it’s not every day that you meet up with an ex-con at your local burger joint.

  I continue through the weekend, going to the local garden center and buying some shrubs for my yard. But even as I keep busy digging and planting, my mind wanders often to HeartLove’s soft, curvy body, and I find myself really looking forward to next week. Because a man can dream, right? And after everything I’ve been through … I think I deserve a few dreams here and there.

  8

  Janie

  All I’ve been able to think about all week is meeting EasyDude. Why did he want to wait a week? But I guess it makes sense because we don’t really know each other. Not really, even if it feels like we’ve been intimate already.

  But even as I responded to Ying’s practice questions, I had to admit that having a week to prepare for this meeting was actually a welcome attribute. And so I spent each day after school, and after my homework, doing little things to make myself feel more confident on the day itself; painting my nails, putting on make-up, and most importantly, shaving my pussy.

  It might be a little presumptuous to expect EasyDude to want to fuck me when he’s never actually met me in person, but I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, I’ve always hated the hair down there and longed to see what it would look like shaved. And when I finally did it and saw what my naked, shaved pussy felt like, I have to say I was happy with what I saw: I was puffy and pink, with just a tiny little bit of my clit visible at the top.

  I’d also had some time to think about what I would wear, and even briefly considered that black silky dress Vivian had bought me, but the outfit was just a bit too much for a casual setting like the Burger Bistro. And so I slipped on a pair of silky panties, and put on a matching silk bra. I wore a new, cobalt blue summer dress, tapered at the waist, knee-length, with just a little bit of cleavage. With tits as huge as mine, there’s always a little cleavage no matter how much I try not to look like a milk maid.

  My heart hammering in my chest, I park my car and get out before walking over to Burger Bistro. My knees, which feel like jelly, are barely able to support my weight, but I’m excited nonetheless. Taking a deep breath, I push the door open and step inside, with what I hope is a confident and sexy air. No such luck. I’m still Janie Martin, and I bump awkwardly into a small family that’s in the middle of exiting. Oops. I tuck my hair behind my ear, trying to regain my composure while looking around.

  But there’s no one who fits EasyDude’s description. I glance around the booths and tables for jet-black hair and blue eyes, tattoos and muscles. It’s very crowded, and I curse myself silently, craning my head right and left. Stupidly, I realize EasyDude and I stupidly didn't think of discussing a shirt or dress color so we could find each other more easily. I scan each table and booth more carefully, but still, there’s no one.

  Suddenly, the truth hits me. Maybe EasyDude’s not coming. Maybe this was a set-up, and he never had any intention of meeting me.

  My heart plummets as I consider this possibility, and with each second that goes by, the dread in my chest grows heavier. EasyDude doesn’t want to meet me, not really. He was never interested, and in fact, is probably some lame thirteen year-old boy giggling even now at one of the tables.

  Panic rises up in my throat and I start to hyperventilate a little with tears in my eyes. My hand reaches around blindly to grasp the door handle. I yank it open, ready to run out when suddenly the wooden slab gets stuck in place. Drat! What’s going on? Angrily, I shake it a little again but am stopped by a large male hand and the bluest pair of eyes I’ve ever seen.

  Because it’s my gorgeous neighbor, Trent Lewis. I stand gaping up at him as he takes a step closer to me, his hand still flat on the door. He frowns down at me like he’s trying to figure something out, those dark brows furrowing over his piercing blue eyes. He’s standing so close that I can smell male cologne on his warm skin. I’m rooted to the spot and probably look like an idiot, gaping up at him like a fish out of water.

  Oh shit. If EasyDude shows up, I’m gonna be humiliated. He’s going to see me going ga-ga over my hot neighbor, which is an awkward position, to say the least. But somehow, Trent’s not bothered by any of this? After all, how would he know? He’s here to grab a burger, and that’s all.

  But there’s something going on with my neighbor. Call it womanly instinct, but I can sense electricity in the air. Plus, the muscled man is glaring at me so intensely that he looks almost angry. Finally, I manage to finally gather my wits to ask him what his problem is, when his huge hand suddenly envelops my wrist and he drags me into a booth in the far corner of the restaurant.

  It all happens so fast that I have no time or chance to resist. Before I know what’s happened, I find myself sitting across from my neighbor’s impossibly huge form, that handsome face caught in a scowl. Oh shit! What if EasyDude comes now? I have to find some way to make my excuses, and begin blabbering like a fool.

  “Wh-what are you doing, Mr. Lewis? Funny to see you here,” I stammer. He places his forearms on the table and leans forwards, still staring intently. But a look of insecurity flashes across his eyes, so fast I may have imagined it. Finally, the male speaks.

  “HeartLove?”

  What? My heart skips a beat. My mouth goes dry. I stare back in amazement. He can’t be. Trent can’t be EasyDude. Unless …. Wait a minute. Tattoos? Check. Muscular? Check. Hot as hell? Check check.

  “What did you call me?” I manage in a hoarse whisper. But Trent doesn’t need to repeat it. We both know what he said. And he sits back again, taking a deep breath. Oh god - Trent is EasyDude. I can feel my face flush in shame as my mind starts repeating back all the messages we exchanged, and all the dirty stuff he asked me to do - which I did.

  Heat rises to my face, spreading wildly all over my chest. I’m probably not at all what he was expecting. He probably expected some supermodel cum Jessica Rabbit-type, when all he’s getting is me. I brace myself for the rejection, almost wincing in anticipation. This is going to be embarrassing, not to mention awful in every way.

  But Trent grins, a cocky light flashing in those cerulean eyes, and it causes my heart to jump. He looks me up and down, that slow gaze taking in everything from the heaving tits to the damp patch of moisture gathering on my tummy. Is that a look of approval on his face?!

  “I knew it was you the moment you walked in,” he says in a low voice.

  “You did?” I reply carefully, my voice still hoarse. He’s showing no signs of wanting to leave, no signs of disappointment or shame. Only need. And want. And lust. I must be imaging this. This is crazy, and yet I can’t help but smile back. Trent is nodding.

  “Yeah. I didn’t want to believe it at first,” he adds.

  “You didn’t?” I reply stupidly. God, Janie, make some real conversation! But Trent doesn’t seem to think I’m an idiot. He leans forward again, confidentially, as if he’s sharing a secret.

  “I’ve noticed you before, Janie,” he rasps hoarsely. “In your driveway and around the n
eighborhood. But I always thought I was too old for you.”

  “You’re not,” I hurriedly interrupt him. “I’m - I’m eighteen.” I try to shrug confidently as I say it. He stares at me intensely, looking deep into my eyes, and it unsettles me a little. “Promise me you’re eighteen. Swear it,” he grunts, that gaze intent.

  Oh my goodness. Where is this coming from? But I look right back at him. It is true that I’m legal, but I wonder what’s happened to this beautiful man in the past to make him so intent.

  “Why?” I ask in a whisper, unable to hide my curiosity.

  He jerks his chin roughly.

  “Just swear it. Please,” he replies, even more intensely now. Something about him makes me trust him, and I want him to trust me too. So I do what he says.

  “I promise I’m eighteen. I swear it,” I say, looking evenly into his eyes. He seems to relax a little then, but something is still bothering him. He closes his eyes briefly and sits back again, clenching his jaw.

  “Sweetheart, I’m still too old for you,” he rasps. “Fuck. I’m twice your age.”

  “I don’t care,” I reply quickly, and before I know what I'm doing, my hand is on his. He glances at it and I can see his Adam’s apple move as he swallows hard. Suddenly, a waitress materializes out of nowhere and asks us for our order. I vaguely register Trent saying something before she disappears again. It’s like there’s a bubble around us, shutting out everything but my awareness of this man. All else fades into the background, noises and colors muted.

  He heaves a deep breath, although those azure eyes haven’t lost their intensity.

  “Sweetheart, this is gonna sound a little weird, but do you want to get out of here?” he whispers, not taking his eyes off mine. “Do you want to continue this conversation in private?

 

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