Contents
Copyright
Product Description
The Delivery Guy
The Co-Worker
The Gardeners
The Welcome Wagon
The Quarterback
The Working Weekend
The Baked Goods
The Ex
The House Party
The Pegging
The Babysitter
The Intern
The Lawn Day
The Home Invader
The Playdate
The Birthday Present
The Graduation Party
Johnny B Goode
The Watchers Crew
About the Author
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2017 by N. S. Johnson Seneb
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition September 2017
There goes the neighborhood!
Have you ever wondered why the grass is greener at the Joneses’ house? It’s because Mrs. Jones tips the gardeners with her cookies. The mail is never late or damaged because the delivery guy gets to slip his package right into her slot. Mr. Jones is the breadwinner and he often brings work home to spend the night. Everyone on the street is clamoring to get invited to their dinner parties where fresh meat is spread-eagle for all to share.
Do you think you can handle these 17 stories of seduction and sin, lust and love, desire and depravity happening behind the white, picket fence just across the street? Turn the page and find out!
Sign up for N.S. Johnson’s Newsletter and be the first to know about new releases, giveaways and sneak peaks of upcoming stories. Sign up directly by typing in http://bit.ly/NSJohnsonNews.
The Delivery Guy
Calvin pulled up onto Main Street. It was always a pain to drive out to the suburbs at this time of day. It meant he’d get caught in rush hour traffic headed back into the city. He’d miss the start of the game. All he wanted to do was grab some chicken wings, a cold beer, and kick his feet up on the coffee table.
Nora had dumped him last week after claiming he had no ambition. What the fuck did he need ambition for? He had a steady job. He’d never cheated on her -after she’d asked if they were exclusive, that is. Anything before that didn’t count.
Didn’t matter. She’d dumped him for some office worker. A fucking cubicle rat. At least Calvin got to spend his days outside in the freedom of the sunshine. And sometimes rain. And, okay in the winter he had to contend with snow and sleet.
It didn’t matter. She could go off with some booth boy. He’d find himself some tail this coming weekend. But this Monday night all he wanted to do was sit back and watch the game in peace and quiet. At least he wouldn’t have to pretend to show interest in Dancing with the Stars or The Bachelor. He wouldn’t have to watch the news and pretend that he cared about what was going on in politics or the environment or world events. He could stuff his hand down his boxers and burp out loud as he grunted and whooped at the television, like god intended.
Calvin parked the delivery truck at the curb and went to the back. He only had one package left to deliver. It was small. Unfortunately, it required a signature. He sure hoped these people were home, so he didn’t have to come back out here again the next day. He couldn’t understand why people didn’t just sign the waiver to have their packages left at the front door. On a street like this you would think all the neighbors trusted each other.
He grabbed the package and headed up the driveway. There was a car there. Good, at least someone would be home and he wouldn’t have to come back. Now he just had to hope they came to the door quickly. If he could get in and then out quickly he just might be able to beat the worst of the rush hour traffic and be in his chair in time for the pre-game show.
He rang the doorbell and waited. Birds chirped overhead. Clouds moved across the sky. No on stirred inside.
He pressed the doorbell again and waited. He glanced down at the package. It was for a Mrs. Jones. No first name.
Finally he heard footsteps. The door flew open and a woman in an untied, silk robe filled the doorframe. The robe was see-through. Calvin got an eyeful of her dark nipples and bare pussy through the flimsy robe. His fingers lost feeling and the package nearly toppled to the ground.
“Yes?” she asked leaning against the door jamb. Her voice was husky, smoke filled, and dripping with sex.
When she leaned against the frame, the robe slipped further open and her nipple peeked out into clear view. The bottom of the robe rode up, giving him an unobstructed view of her pink, pussy lips. His cock, which had only known his hand for the last two weeks, went ramrod straight and stole the words from his mouth.
“Are you the delivery guy?” she asked.
He gulped. He may have nodded his head, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Come on in.”
She turned around giving him a view of the perkiest, heart-shaped ass he’d ever seen in his life. And fuck him, she was in heels.
Calvin followed her inside like an eager puppy anxious for a treat. The door shut behind him and they were alone. She led him into the living room which was furnished with brown leather and mahogany tables.
She turned and her ass was replaced by her pussy. She stood with her legs apart, like a model would pose. Legs all angles. Robe slipping further open so that he saw the flower petal of one of her labia. To top it off, she put her hand on her hip and cocked her head. She regarded him for a moment, like he was the treat and she was the dog ready to take him in her mouth.
Calvin gulped.
She grabbed something off a counter and then sashayed to him. When she got close, she flipped open a blade. Calvin barely flinched. All the blood and common sense had been rerouted to his cock.
Of course she would be a serial killer. He’d been lured into her lair and now he was going to die. At least he got to see a sweet pussy and a tight ass before she did him in.
To his utter shock, she handed him the blade. Upon further inspection he realized it was a box cutter.
“Would you be a dear?” She held up her hands. “I just had my nails done.”
Calvin got down to work. He opened the package with shaky fingers. But he also wanted her to see he wasn’t useless at his job like his ex-girlfriend thought. “Ma’am, you know that if you sign a waiver, I could just leave the deliveries at your door.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He’d just told her that it wasn’t necessary for him to ever ring her bell and cross her threshold ever again. He wanted to come back to the door and see that ass again, even if it was in sweats the next time. But of course he went and ruined it.
“Did you just call me ma’am?”
He looked up at her. She couldn’t have been more than thirty if she was that old. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she grinned.
“Do it again,” she said. “I liked it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He was sure her grin would rival the devil’s if the devil were a woman. Then she took the opened box out of his hand. She pulled out three other boxes.
Calvin’s eyes went wide as he looked at the pictures and lettering on each of the boxes. One was an anal plug. The other was something called a G-spotter
. And in the largest box was the biggest, thickest dildo he’d ever seen. Not that he’d spent any time ogling sex toys.
“Are you terribly busy?” she asked, a pout at those red lips. “I need some help with these?”
“Help, ma’am?”
“The vibrator is remote activated. I want to see how far the range is. It’s a present for my husband.”
“Your husband?”
“Hmm,” she nodded. “Do you mind?”
She slipped the robe off and stood completely nude before him. He could only swallow. Her breasts were the definition of perfection with their large mounds topped with dark tips. Her cunt was completely shaved bare. Her stomach was flat without a single stretch mark or ounce of flab. Calvin felt lightheaded.
“First can you help me with the anal plug? Nails, remember?” She held up her painted nails.
Calvin blinked a couple of times before he hurried into action. He opened the box. The device inside looked like a large pacifier. He reached in tentative fingers and found that it was soft and firm at the same time.
He lifted the device out of the box and turned his gaze to her. When he looked up, she had her legs spread and her torso bent over the counter. She swiped her long hair over one shoulder and then looked back at him expectantly.
Calvin stood holding the oversized pacifier in the air with trembling fingers.
“Have you ever done this before?” she asked.
Had he ever stuck anything up a woman’s butt? “Yes, ma’am,” he lied.
“Are you lying?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She frowned. “Don’t do that. I don’t like liars.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’ll need to get me wet first. Would it be too much trouble to ask you to rub my clit?”
The look on the delivery guy’s face was priceless. Mrs. Jones had thought she’d be spending a boring afternoon waiting for her husband to return home from his first day at the new job. Instead, a diversion had shown up at the door.
The grown man walked over to her on unsure feet. She folded her arms and laid her head down on the pass through bar into the kitchen as she watched him approach her with the butt plug in one hand. The other hand he clenched and unclenched as he readied it for her waiting pussy.
She wiggled her hips in anticipation. There was nothing like a little stranger sex in the afternoon to get her going.
The delivery guy rested his big hand on her ass. Then he jerked his hand back as though her skin had burned him.
“What about your husband?” He looked around as though he expected him to come bursting into the door. “When is he coming home?”
“In an hour or two depending on the traffic. That’s why I want to get his present checked out now. So that I can give it to him when he gets in.”
The delivery guy looked at the clock in the hall. She could see him weighing his options. A quick fuck or a safe retreat. She didn’t bother to tell him that if her husband caught them he’d want to watch, not threaten him or throw him out.
“Is there a problem?” she said instead.
The man swallowed, took a deep breath, and then shook his head.
“Then can you fuck me with your fingers so you can stick that plug up my ass?”
His nostrils flared. His mouth watered. His fingers found her core, and he began to rub.
He had nice fingers. Long and thick. With calluses at the finger pads. Mrs. Jones liked calluses. Her husband spent his days crunching numbers and his fingers were nowhere near as rough as someone who did manual labor to earn their keep.
“Pinch my bud,” she said spreading her hips wider.
He did as he was told. She liked that in a man.
“Now, rub me harder. Ohhh,” she moaned. “Fuck if your hands aren’t rough.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, do it harder. Yes, that’s it. Get me good and wet.”
She arched her back and thrust her pussy back onto his thick, rough fingers. Soon the roughness disappeared and was replaced by her slick juices.
“Now, rub my cunt juices all over my ass.”
He did as he was told. He could only fit one of those meaty fingers between her ass cheeks at a time. She wanted more, but that would have to wait until next time, because at the rate he was getting her riled up there would be a next time.
“Oh yeah, rub my juices in my asshole. Get it slippery. Spit on it.”
He hesitated, but then bent down to do as she said. She felt an additional slipperiness slide between her ass cheeks. She clenched her anus and pulled some of his spit in.
“Now, shove that plug in me.”
Mrs. Jones pressed her ass even further into the air. The plug was thick, and this man was unpracticed on how to insert it. But her hungry ass slurped it in as he gave it a hesitant push.
She sighed with pleasure as the plug wedged nice and deep up her ass giving her a heavy feeling in her low belly. She straightened, squeezing her thighs together and turned around. Leaning against the counter, she reveled in the wild look in the big man’s eyes.
She heard his pants of desire. She felt his heavy breath sail down and land against her tits. Her nipples were tight points as the heat of his breath cooled between his gasps for air. She lowered her gaze and was immediately struck by the tent in his pants.
Poor guy. She was going to make him wait for his release if she even decided to give him one. “You ready?”
His eyes lit with hope.
Her smile spread wickedly across her face. She walked over to the couch in the living room. He followed her like a new puppy eager to please its master. Her mind went to the collection of collars she had in the basement. The thought of this big guy on her leash made her butt clench and her clit tingle.
She rounded the couch. He came before her. She sat down and spread her thighs. His gaze fastened to her bare pussy that still dripped from his handiwork.
She held out her hand to him. His hips moved towards her hand. She frowned up at him and shooed his tented erection away. She motioned for him to give her his hand. It took him a moment before he complied. With his hand outstretched, she placed the remote inside his big palm.
His face screwed in confusion as he looked down at the device. She picked up the unwrapped G-spotter. The sex toy was curved like the top end of a candy cane. She placed the thick head of the device in her mouth and sucked it as though it were Christmas time. Then she reached down and parted her pussy lips. She put the heavy bulb inside her slippery cunt.
His eyes stayed fastened to her as she worked the bulb in and out. The angle was perfect, which was rare for a toy that didn’t need a partner.
“Turn it on,” she said.
But the delivery man’s eyes were fastened to her pussy.
She left the top of the cane in her pussy, angled at her G-spot and took his hand. She placed his thumb on the on switch for the remote and set it to low. Then she leaned back.
“Go over there,” she pointed across the room. “And turn up the dial.”
It took him a moment for her words to process. He looked from her throbbing cunt and the plug protruding out her ass. He licked his lips and swallowed. He took a deep breath that had his big shoulders rising. But in the end, he did what she told him.
“I’m ready,” she said. “Turn it up.”
He was a shadow in the hall, but she still made out his fingers moving to turn up the dial. The buzzing was low, but it hit her straight in the good spot.
“Oh, that’s nice.” She pressed the thick head of the spotter against the inside of her cunt. It rang like a gong in her. “It has a good little kick to it. Go into the hall and turn it up another notch.”
She could feel him frown. The hallway would put even more distance between them. He wouldn’t have a view of the action any more. But he did as he was told. Such a good little puppy. She was definitely going to reward him.
“I’m ready,” Mrs. Jones called. “Turn it up.”
It kicked up another notch. Enough so that she had to let the orgasm rip through her. Her cries and moans echoed through the house. When she came down, she heard him panting from far away.
“Does it have a higher setting?” she asked.
His voice was barely human as it came out. “Yes.”
“Go up the stairs and turn it all the way up.”
She heard him half sigh, half moan, but he did as he was told.
“Ready?” he called.
“Let her rip.”
The receiver received the remote’s command. It sent her pussy soaring. Her heels rose. Her ass felt like it was levitating. And her cunt felt as though someone had climbed inside and shook her like a milkshake mixing in a blender. When she came down from her orgasm, he was standing before her.
“So that one works,” she said in breathless pants. “Do you have time to help me with the last toy? I’m not sure it fits.”
Calvin’s cock was rock hard. If she blew on it he’d blow. Instead, she handed him the fake cock. He’d never held another cock in his hand. This one was longer and thicker than his.
She hadn’t asked him to fuck her. She’d asked him to help her test out the toys she’d gotten; toys she would share with her husband when he got home in an hour.
Calvin gripped the fake dick and sighed instead of tossing it across the room. At least he’d have a story to tell the next poker night, a story for his spank bank that would never get old. He couldn’t complain. He also couldn’t put his dick in her without her permission.
Right?
Right.
Watching her get off, getting her off, he wasn’t going to get anything better than this tonight. So, he aimed the thick, pink cock at her greedy hole.
She pulled out the wrench-looking contraption from her cunt. It left her with a wet plop that made his mouth water. She laid the dripping device, still buzzing, on the couch and spread her thighs.
Keeping It Up with the Joneses Page 1
