The Neighbor Next Door

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The Neighbor Next Door Page 8

by Cassandra Dee


  Epilogue

  Janie

  I’m only three months pregnant but already my tits are so huge that it’s obscene. Trent absolutely loves it, and can't get enough of them night or day. I, on the other hand, can't get enough of the attention, lapping up the man’s warmth and hot alpha male heat.

  But there’s work to be done. I feel the weight of my heavy tits shift as I bent down to pick at some stray weeds. With one hand lovingly cradling my tiny baby bump, I walk through the garden of our little cottage.

  Recently, we decided to get a change of scenery. Trent and I moved to a town about two hours away from Littleton, and I’m enrolled at the local community college. After the upheaval last year, I decided not to sit for finals, instead opting to aim for my GED. It’s no big deal. I’ve got it covered, and many of the subjects are pretty straightforward. Plus, the high school equivalency exam isn’t going to be the true test of my accomplishments. Instead, I’m aiming to set up my own baking business after the baby’s born, complete with a selection of pies, cakes, and cupcakes for customers with a sweet tooth.

  Now that I’m done with studying for the day, I putter around the garden, enjoying the last of the afternoon sun. Trent will be home soon from work, and I have to say his new landscaping business has been incredibly successful. He’s got a portfolio of clients already, and our phone rings off the hook with inquiries from new customers.

  But the man knows a good thing because despite his busy schedule, Trent always makes time for me. Since I’ve been pregnant, I've been incredibly horny. I need Trent’s hard, muscled body and his thick, huge cock every night, and sometimes even several times per night. Often, while I’m waiting for him to come home, my mind wanders to the things he does to me in the privacy of our bedroom. I whip out my phone out and text him, already getting wet and creamy down below.

  Janie: can’t wait till you get home. I need you loverboy. Lick my pussy when you’re home?

  Trent’s reply comes instantly.

  Trent: shit sweetheart, don’t say stuff like that to me. A boner at work isn’t a good look lol

  Janie: it’s your business. why not lock up and come back early? ;)

  Trent: there’s only 30 mins until closing time. Waiting never hurt, sweet thing. It amps up the anticipation

  But then he types again.

  Trent: why don’t you play with yourself? You know how I love it when that creamy pussy’s ready the moment I step in the door.

  I giggle a little, looking around furtively. Of course, there’s no one else in the garden, but I’ll have to go inside for this nonetheless. I leave the yard and take the stairs to the bedroom, where I lie on the bed before slowly slipping my hand into my panties. Oooh! I’m wet from thinking about my man already.

  Janie: I’m dripping, baby. Come home and fuck me.

  Trent: Changed my mind. Closed up shop. No sense in keeping my girl on edge.

  My pussy contracts with the knowledge he’ll be here soon, cramming it full. On a whim, I decide I want to wear something special. Something he hasn't seen before. I fling the closet doors open and my eye falls immediately on that slutty black dress Vivian bought me a long time ago. Was it only last year? Well, I never did wear it. And it’s not like it’s tainted with memories. I haven’t spoken to Vivian in months, and I have to say that I don’t miss my mom. Maybe after the baby’s born, we’ll reconcile, but for now, Trent and I are absolutely blissed out on our own.

  The revealing dress seems perfect for this occasion. I slip it on and it fits like a glove, although with my tits this huge, I look a little like a prostitute. But that’s not such a bad thing given what’s about to happen. With a sudden flutter in my stomach, I hear the front door open and close, and then Trent’s heavy boots sound on the stairs. He bursts into the bedroom and seeing me in my slutty black dress, stops in his tracks, and whistles through his teeth.

  “Fuck baby,” comes his low growl, blue eyes gleaming with lust. “Where’d you get that?”

  I shrug coyly, twirling in a circle like a fairy princess.

  “Just something I forgot I had. I thought I’d wear it for you. Do you like it?” But Trent is shaking his head as he stalks over to me.

  “Shit yeah,” he rasps. “I think you should keep this on while I fuck you.” He sweeps me up in his arms, mouth ravenous, his hands already roaming the curves of my body. He bends down, licking my nipples through the dress, biting them and making me moan. And then he sits down on the bed, pulling me down on top of him so I straddle him. Ever since we found out I’m expecting, he’s careful when we fuck, wanting me to be on top so I can control the movements. At first, I didn’t want to. I love that hot cock pounding into my cunt from up above, with my man in control. But slowly, I’ve learned to adore riding that thick shaft because it gets so deep when I’m bucking like a cowgirl, making me cream endlessly.

  I reach into his jeans and pull out his enormous cock, hard and long and as thick as my wrist, already panting at the thought of it inside me. Trent tugs down the neckline of the dress to free my tits, which practically bounce out and hit his face. My nipples are swollen and sensitive, and when he starts licking and sucking them, I’m embarrassed to feel my pussy contracting, already so close to losing it. I moan as Trent cups my ass cheeks in his hands and squeezes hard. And then I feel it. He edges one finger down so that he’s stroking my back hole, the pleats pulsing involuntarily.

  “Oh god, I need it,” is my desperate pant. “Now, now!”

  I press my pussy onto the head of his cock and force the hugeness of him into my tight, wet cunt, making him groan in pleasure. I lower my twat down along that veiny shaft until I’m squeezing the full length of him like a tight glove. It’s already too much – I’m just about to explode as Trent rubs my asshole with one finger, teasing my dark star even as his cock fucks my pussy.

  “Trent!” I scream warningly, bouncing up and down his shaft as I edge closer to orgasm.

  “I’m with you baby,” he growls into my tits, licking my nipples. “Keep bouncing on my cock sweetheart,” he commands, breathing like a wild animal. “Make me come.”

  Reaching down in a sudden burst of inspiration, I gently squeeze his balls with my soft palm. They’re tense and tight, and he groans in delight as I fondle them while continuing to bounce up and down his cock. And then it happens. Those soft, velvety sacks seize up in my hand as Trent comes, using his hands on my ass cheeks to pound me down onto his cock.

  “FUCK!” he roars at hot lashes of bubbly jism spurt into my pink channel. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

  My pussy goes wild then, breaking into a series of hot spasms.

  “Unnnh!” is my delighted shriek. “Oh fuck yes!”

  I can feel my pussy milking his cock, pulling that virile baby batter in deep. And now Trent’s thrusting even harder now, ejaculating like a fire hose on max while groaning into my mouth with satisfaction.

  Finally, we descend from heaven. There’s jizz everywhere, dripping out from my hole and coating his balls and pelvis. My lover throws me down beside him, pumping a few more times to get out the last of his seed. Still in rapture, we look into each other’s eyes, and both start laughing suddenly, out of breath.

  “That was amazing,” he whispers, cradling me in his arms. “If you weren’t pregnant already, I’d say we just made a baby.”

  I giggle.

  “Maybe we can make two babies,” I whisper softly, looking into those devastating blue eyes. “Because wouldn’t that be wonderful Trent? A boy and a girl maybe? One of each?”

  But my man takes me by surprise because a growl rumbles from his chest, his gaze possessive.

  “Sweetheart, you’re thinking small. I want more than two. In fact, if I get my way, you’re going to be barefoot and pregnant for the next ten years. That would be … how many kids?”

  My cheeks go hot just thinking about the prospect.

  “Ten children?” I ask breathlessly. “Is that what you really want?”

  And the coc
ky grin on his face makes me laugh and shiver at once.

  “More than ten, sweetheart. If I get my way, there’ll be a couple of twins and triplets thrown in for … oh, maybe fifteen kids? What do you think? Are you ready to be knocked up over and over again?”

  I blush as my heart melts because this is exactly what I want. A huge family with my man by my side, all of us cocooned in a safe haven of love. Looking at the ex-con, I stroke his cheek softly, my heart in my eyes.

  “I love you Trent Lewis,” come my soft words. “I can’t wait to have your babies.”

  His blue eyes turn so dark that they’re almost black as he cradles my pregnant form close.

  “I can’t wait to give you want you want, Janie,” he says hoarsely. “Because you’re the light of my life and everything I could ever need in a woman. You make me so happy, sweetheart, and after everything that’s happened, who knew? I don’t deserve you,” he says fervently.

  But I merely kiss the handsome man again, imbuing our liplock with the love that overflows my heart. Because he is an ex-con and I was his virginal next-door neighbor. But everything changes with time, and Trent and I overcame a rocky start to find happiness now. So what more can a girl ask for? I’ll have my business, my baby, and most importantly my man … until the end of time.

  * * *

  THE END

  * * *

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  Sneak Peek: My Fiance’s Twin Brothers

  Natasha

  My fiancé cheated on me with my best friend, but I got back at him … by sleeping with his twin brothers!

  * * *

  I scroll through Instagram as last night’s dinner heats up in the microwave. A perk of living alone is that I can make food once or twice and be set for the whole week.

  Sometimes, I get sick of the same food every day, but it saves money. Besides, living alone in NYC is expensive. I can’t be spending ridiculous amounts on food when most of my paycheck goes to rent.

  The ring on my finger catches the light and I squint at the small diamond before sighing heavily. A heavy weight descends on my shoulders and my entire body wilts a bit.

  This is ridiculous. I should feel lucky to be with my fiancé, Galen. We met at a fashion show, and it was a dream come true. I couldn’t believe he looked my way because I’m a curvy girl with unruly hair and more than a few extra pounds, while Galen is literally a male model with six pack abs, cheekbones that could cut steel, and a long, lanky stride that commands the runway. The friends I was with that day are far more attractive than I am, yet somehow, I’m the one who caught Galen’s attention. It was a miracle.

  My shoulders slump again. A picture of the two of us stares at me from the side of my fridge and I stare at it morosely. It was taken at the top of the Empire State Building, where Galen took me on one of our first dates. We look so ridiculous together, with him being tall and thin, and me short and curvaceous. He’s almost twice my height come to think of it. Maybe that’s why I’m uneasy about our relationship. There’s something off about us, and maybe it’s our height difference.

  I scold myself. I shouldn’t be so shallow. It’s not our height. It’s something else, although what that something is remains a mystery to me.

  The microwave beeps and I pull out my leftover chicken and rice. As I head for the couch in my small studio apartment, I force myself to be grateful for my fiancé. He’s one of the best things in my life right now. So why am I feeling so weird about the relationship lately?

  After all, once we’re married, I’ll be able to leave this humble apartment and move somewhere bigger and fancier. My job at Coquetterie, a clothing store, doesn’t pay a ton, but Galen makes enough as a male model to support us. That’s saying something because being a male model isn’t like being a female model. The ladies can rake in seven figures per year, but a lot of the guys have to scrimp and make-do. So the fact that my fiancé is highly sought after in his industry is a good sign.

  Then again, I hope Galen doesn’t expect me to quit my job. I love fashion, so working at Coquetterie is a great opportunity. I’d rather be a designer than a salesperson, but this is the first step towards making that dream come true. Everyone has to pay their dues to make it to the top, and I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty.

  Surely, Galen wouldn’t make me quit. He’s not like that, right? I’ll have to take time off when we eventually decide to have kids, but we’re not in any hurry to do that. For now, we’re enjoying just being together and exploring the city. We’ll want to settle into married life before any other major life changes.

  I toss my phone on the table while I eat. Some random show on Netflix is playing in the background, but I’m not paying attention. I’m too distracted by my misgivings about Galen.

  After all, he’s a great guy so why am I ruminating like this? We have a good time when we’re together. He’s a bit vain, but that’s to be expected from a male model. Most ladies would give their right arms to be with him, and instead, I’m feeling glum.

  Plus, all my friends swooned when we first met my fiancé at a fashion show. They were shocked when he seemed interested in me, and even more shocked when we hit it off right away. After all, the two of us are like night and day. He loves staying out, partying with friends, and indulging in the occasional joint. On the other hand, I’m very straight-laced. I love going to bed early and spending quality time with Netflix and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s. Yet, I’m always amazed at how easy it is to talk to Galen and there’s rarely a lull in our conversations.

  I take a sip of coffee from my favorite mug. My best friend, Paula, got it for me for graduation. It has one of my dress designs on it, and is one of my most prized possessions. I always use it for my evening coffee.

  I probably shouldn’t use coffee to relax, but it’s my favorite drink after a long day at work. Somehow, caffeine has the opposite effect on me than everyone else. Plus, I need it after a long day on my feet. I love Coquetterie, but some of the women who shop there suck. They can be really mean, especially since I don’t look like them. They’re mostly stick thin, with an attitude to go with it.

  That’s part of why I want to be a designer. None of the clothes at Coquetterie are made for curvy girls like me. The jeans don’t fit over my wide hips. Shirts are stretched to the limit over my chest. The clothes at my store only fit sticks with flat chests and no butts, and that’s definitely not me.

  My designs are much more inclusive. They look good on traditionally thin models, but they also fit curvy girls. They’re meant to be for everyone, which might be why I’ve struggled to get my fashion career off the ground. Most of the big designers look down on clothes designed for curvy girls, like they’re too good for them. It smacks of snobbery and elitism, but I’m merely a small cog in this giant industry.

  I sigh again. Maybe Galen can help me once we’re married. I’ve asked him in the past to make a call to his contacts, but he always brushed me off. All I want is for him to show my designs to one of his connections. He says that’s not how it works, but I know that’s not true. A big part of the fashion industry is about who you know, and not just what you know.

  I’m sure Galen is just hesitant because it might have been awkward. If we broke up and I was designing clothes, we’d have to see each other all the time, and it would be embarrassing. I understand why he wouldn’t want that.

  But now, we’re engaged. It’s supposed to mean that we’ll never break up, so we can become a fashion power couple. I can even start designing men’s clothes that Galen can model. It’ll be perfect!

  I smile ruefully. I’m still not a hundred percent sure my fiancé’s on board with this plan, but we’ll figure it out. A girl like me doesn’t get a guy like Galen often, so there’s no way I’m letting him
go.

  I take another bite of my dinner. It’s the same thing I had last night and for lunch again today. This is one of those times that I’m bored of the food, but I’m going to eat it anyway. When you’re super broke, you don’t waste anything.

  I should learn how to meal prep. I could make chicken on Monday and then have five different chicken dishes for the week. That will be especially helpful when Galen and I move in together and we have two full-time schedules to juggle. Not that he eats much. He is a model, after all.

  But it’s also annoying that Galen wants to wait until we’re married to live together. I suggested we move into one apartment as soon as he proposed, just to save money, but he balked at the idea. It’s strange because New York City is an expensive place, and we could definitely cut down on the rent we pay by combining households. However, he thinks we should live separately until after the wedding, like we’re old-fashioned people from the 1930’s. I don’t get it, but I’m trying to respect his decision.

  Then again, I do like living alone, come to think of it. I’m in this crappy studio because I didn’t want roommates. I did the living with strangers thing in college, and I never want to do it again because it was terrible. My freshman year of college, I had the worst roommate. She was inconsiderate and rude, to the point of having sex with her boyfriend while I was in the room. I was too intimidated to stand up to her, so I started wearing headphones to bed. The roommates I had for the next three years were no better, from their lack of hygiene to their utter lack of respect for my privacy.

  But living with Galen will be different. He’ll be my husband, and not just some random person I share a space with. Plus, it’s not like he’ll be having sex with other women while I try to sleep. He would never cheat on me. Galen loves me and I love him too. I’m a one guy kind of girl, and Galen is my guy.

 

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