I was washing dishes when I heard the old diesel truck pull up out front and though I
was not expecting any deliveries, curiosity required that I check it out. It was a
Saturday and I was doing my weekly house cleaning. I peeked through the curtains in my
living room and saw the moving van that had backed into the driveway next door. Several
men were already unloading it when a dark black Mercedes pulled up and parked in front of
the house.
When He got out of the car I thought how distinguished He looked. He wore a dark
blue suit, white shirt, and red tie. His hair was dark, but liberally peppered with gray,
which is probably why I thought of Him as distinguished. But even from a distance I could
see He exuded a presence as He walked up to the house, looking confident and proud as He
observed the men unloading the truck. I was tempted to go out and greet Him, but I was
wearing my sweats and not at all made up enough to meet a handsome man.
I watched Him for what seemed like a moment frozen in time, both drawn to and
intimidated by the sight of Him. After a few minutes of observing the workers on His front
porch, he went inside and the spell was temporarily broken. I went back to my work,
getting into a cleaning frenzy, but my mind kept focusing on my new neighbor.
Over the next couple of weeks I found myself looking through the curtains when I
was home, hoping to see Him so I could go outside and ‘casually’ introduce myself. I was
also prone to staying dressed in my work attire and makeup until nearly bedtime, wanting
to look my best when the time came. But I did not see him at all and instead started to
see things that made me even more curious.
A couple of times a week a cab would pull up in the evening and a beautiful woman
would get out and enter the house, a different one each time. They were all young, much
like me, and beautiful. They inevitably spent the night, as I saw most of them leaving the
following morning as I departed for work, with another taxi showing up in the morning.
While they always arrived looking perfectly made up and impeccably dressed, they left
looking rather disheveled. Watching this revolving door of women only spurred my interest
even more.
It was the second weekend after He moved in, when I was returning from the market
with groceries that we had our first encounter. He was sitting on the porch, wearing
shorts and a tight tee shirt that revealed His muscular body. For an older man He was
certainly well built I thought. I was glad that since His arrival, even a trip to the
store demanded I was dressed and made up properly.
I tried not to stare at Him, though I wanted to, as I parked in my driveway right
next to His. As I got out of the car I noticed that He stood up and started walking over
toward me. As confident and strong willed as I was, for some reason I felt like a nervous
schoolgirl being approached by the school’s star jock. I tried to act like I did not
notice him as I opened the trunk of my car to get my bags of food.
“Hello, my name is Ryan Fitzwater, I am your new neighbor,” He said, as he came
over toward me.
“Hi I’m Delia, Delia Lakeland” I stuttered, turning to face Him and extending my
hand to shake His. When He first touched my hand I felt a spark and my desire to really
feel him was lit.
“Can I help you with your bags?” he asked.
Suddenly feeling flushed and worried that I was blushing, I meekly replied, “Yes
thank you.”
He helped me carry my groceries into my kitchen. I struggled to compose myself and
not sound like a blithering idiot should he start a conversation. Something about Him was
making me nervous and excited at the same time.
Once the bags were placed on the kitchen table, He turned to me and said, “Seems
like a nice neighborhood, how long have you lived here?”
Honestly, that is all I can remember from that first conversation, but I do recall
that He did help me put away the groceries. I know we talked about mundane things, getting
to know your neighbor stuff, but I was in such a strange state of mind and the details are
now just a blur in my memory. He eventually left, but only after I agreed to visit him
that night for dinner at his place. I have no recollection how he enticed me to come over,
but I spent the rest of the day getting ready. I envisioned myself as one of the beauties
that came into his house looking stylish, only to leave the next day looking well used.
At six pm I was staring at myself in a full-length mirror, my hair and makeup
impeccably done. I was wearing my sexy red mini dress, the one that hugged my curvaceous
figure and exposed my ample cleavage. I chose sheer nude stockings and my four-inch
spike-heeled pumps that made my legs look extra long and toned. As hot as I knew I looked,
I also knew he had several visitors recently that looked just as enticing. Though I
considered myself a ‘straight’ woman, the sight of a sexy woman always aroused me,
something I never really paid attention to until the parade to His house started.
At six-thirty sharp I was standing on his stoop, my finger nervously ready to press
the button of his doorbell. I sometimes wonder that if I had chickened out at that moment
what would have happened, but I suspect that I would have ended up entering that house
eventually. I rang the bell and in just a short moment He opened the door, a wry smile
expanding on His face as He saw me standing there.
“Come in Delia, I am so glad you could join me for dinner,” He said, as He stepped
back to usher me inside the door.
I was surprised that after just two weeks the house showed no signs of his recent
arrival, no boxes or signs of the move, just a well decorated house that was neat and
clean. He escorted me to the dining room, where two place settings of fancy china and
silverware were laid upon the table. He held my chair as I took my seat, then excusing
Himself, He went into the kitchen. He returned with two plates of food and after placing
them on the table, sat down across from me.
The food was delicious and we shared a bottle of wine, as once again we engaged in
some ordinary chitchat. The conversation escapes me again, but it has no relevance to my
story, it was what happened after dinner that started me on the path I now follow. He had
taken our plates into the kitchen and I decided to follow Him, walking up behind Him as he
was placing them in the sink.
I gently raked my nails down his back and said, “Can I help?”
He turned around and without a thought I wrapped my arms around him and lifted
myself onto my toes, as I brought my mouth to his. Our lips touched and I snaked my eager
tongue into his mouth, but there was no response from Him. I felt his strong hands grab my
upper arms and push me back, leaving me staring up at him in total confusion. No man had
ever rebuked one of my intimate advances before, and I was stupefied.
“Delia,” he said, “you are a beautiful and alluring woman, but I don’t think we are
compatible that way.”
I was in shock and replied, “What do you mean?”
“You are a strong-willed and independent woman, while I am more old-fashioned. I
prefer my women to be more demure and reliant on a man to initiate and control a
relationship. While I find your beauty intoxicating, I find your demeanor less than
appealing, in that way. But don’t get me wrong, I am hoping we can become friends.”
It was like a knife through my heart; in all my experience men were like putty in
my hands. But He was different, shunning me so easily and somewhat callously. I remember
that I was nearly speechless, but managed a few painful apologies before excusing myself
before nearly running back to my house. That night tortured my mind for the next two
weeks, especially after seeing the caravan of beauties continue to come and go from His
house. All the confidence I had previously had with the opposite sex was now gone, and I
dwelled on his words and what he clearly wanted from women.
I avoided Him like the plague; more afraid of how I would react if we were to talk
again, but living next door to each other made that hard to do. The second weekend after
our ‘date’ I was caught in His cross hairs, as I pulled into my driveway and He came out
of his house. He was looking right at me as I parked and I managed a weak smile while
looking back at Him.
As I got out of the car, he walked over and said, “Delia, I am sorry about the
other night, I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”
As I stood up and looked at him across the top of my car, I replied, “Oh that’s OK
I have not thought about it at all,” lying through my teeth. In fact, since he moved in I
had not been on the prowl at all and my pussy was hungrier than ever to get filled. The
fact that I could not shed my thoughts about Ryan left me feeling confused, too distracted
to hunt down another partner to fill my needs.
He said, “Perhaps you would join me for dinner tonight?”
That question caught me by surprise. Was he just trying to remedy what happened and
build a neighborly relationship? Or was this his way of giving me another chance to be the
kind of woman he described? Without really thinking about it I accepted his invitation and
was at his door that night at 6:30, just like last time.
This time I wore a black dress, less revealing at the chest and with a longer hem,
but it was still tight and flattering. We had a splendid dinner and afterwards I helped
Him clean up, with no attempt to jump Him. But all through my time there, I could feel my
sex getting wet and sloppy with desire. I wanted him to take me from the moment I arrived,
but made no gesture or movement to initiate it, knowing now that He had to do it. As the
evening progressed my arousal grew to levels I could not believe, wanting Him to take me
and use me like a whore.
But he remained cool and aloof, friendly, but in no way showing any signs that he
felt like I did. And just when I thought it would not happen, as we stood by the front
door with me thinking the night was over, it happened. As I reached for the doorknob, he
grabbed my shoulders and forced me against the wall, staring at me with his piercing
eyes.
I was trembling when He said, “Do you want me to FUCK you Delia?” emphasizing the
word ‘fuck’ in a way that really got my juices flowing.
All I could manage to say was a meek, “Yes please.”
He spun me around, holding me face first against the wall as I felt his hand reach
up my dress and tear my thong away and toss it aside. Then his hand found my pulsing sex
and his fingers entered my moist hollow, causing me to moan in grateful satisfaction as I
opened my legs for Him. I started to thrust my rump backward, but he stopped me dead by
pushing forward, pinning me to the wall.
He whispered in my ear, “Follow my lead Delia; I don’t need you to rut like a whore
to know what you want.”
His words forced me to relax and accept His control, and in just a few minutes his
nimble fingers brought on my first orgasm of the night. As the climax broke, his fingers
left my sex and I could feel him pulling his cock out and then I felt it sliding into my
sex. He fucked me hard and fast, as I remained pinned to the wall, driving a second and
stronger orgasm from my pulsing pussy.
From there the night, like many with Him since, is a bit blurry. I do know that he
did not come in the foyer, or on the dining room table, or the steps leading upstairs
either. He did fuck me in all those places, never even bothering to remove my dress, just
hiking it up over my hips each time he took me. It was when we reached his bedroom and I
was in a state of total sexual shock and awe that He ordered me to finally strip. My legs
were shaky and I was glad to kick my heels off, before slithering out of my dress and bra.
I started to remove my black stockings, but He ordered me to stop and, like a lamb, I
obeyed.
“Lie on the bed and stretch your arms and legs out to the corners Delia,” He said,
and again I obeyed.
From under the bed he pulled out leather cuffs already mounted to the corner posts
and locked my ankles into them. Silently I watched as he locked my wrists in similar
cuffs, leaving me spread open and completely vulnerable on the bed. I was so aroused and
in need of more that the danger inherent from this situation did not occur to me. I had
played a few kinky ‘tie up’ games in my time, but this felt different, in an excellent
way.
Once I was secured He stood at the foot of the bed and stripped in front of me,
having used me while still fully clothed before we got to this point. As I watched his
firm muscled body revealed in front of me, my breathing became ragged and I started to
strain against my bondage, wanting to touch Him, to feel Him. By the time He stood there
naked and stroking that amazing cock, as I had never had a man fuck me half a dozen ways
without coming once, I was desperately yearning for Him to take me again.
“You want this?” He said, as he stroked His cock and glanced down at it.
“Yes please,” I said, thinking that worked pretty well last time I said it.
“The proper response is, yes Sir,” He replied.
I was so anxious to feel that cock back in my pussy I immediately chirped, “Yes
Sir!”
“Good girl,” He said, as he crawled up on the bed and knelt between my spread legs.
He ran his fingers through my neatly trimmed bush and said, “I prefer my pussy
unobstructed and if you choose to return after tonight this will be removed first.”
“Yes Sir!” I nearly screamed, needing that fat cock inside me as soon as possible.
Still stroking his hand between my legs, only now rubbing my swollen sex lips, he
continued, “You have seen some of the ladies coming and going from here, yes?”
“Yes sir!”
“Have you noticed none of them ever return?”
“No sir,” I replied, but I did know that I never saw the same woman twice; I just
did not want to admit how closely I was watching Him.
“That is because none of them were able to do what I am about to ask. If you want
me to fuck you again, then you need to beg me to beat your pussy with this first,” He
said, holding up a short thick leather covered paddle.
Fear gripped me; this situation went from erotic to precarious in a flash. Having
seen those disheveled women leaving here now made perfect sense, Ryan was a sadistic
bastard. What else could explain His desire to beat my poor hungry pussy? I stared at Him,
His cock, and the weapon He was slapping against his palm, caught between intense desire
and abject fear. The simple fact that I did not scream ‘NO’ made me wonder about myself,
but the fact that he did not just do it confused me.
He was grinning broadly as he said, “I’m waiting.”
Thinking maybe I could barter with Him, I said, “You don’t need to do that do you?
I want you badly, but asking you to beat my…uh…is too much,” unable to name it for some
reason.
He chuckled and said, “You are the first in a long time not to scream no or yes,
and I find that interesting. Perhaps this will convince you,” he said, bending down and
using his lips and tongue to caress my inflamed sex.
My mind raced as He went down on me, quickly stoking me back up toward another
orgasm, but stopping just before I came. He rose back up and looked at me, slapping the
strap against his palm again, cocking his head to the side to indicate, well what do you
think now?
I could not resist the arousal burning inside me and I screamed, “Fine! Beat my
pussy, but please fuck me too!” cringing as I expected terrible pain to rain down on my
sex.
Instead, He laughed, tossed the strap aside and immediately slid His cock into my
eager snatch. I could feel the weight of his strong body on top of me, as His unbridled
cock slid in and out of my spasming pussy; an orgasm gripping me once His manhood was
buried deep inside me. He fucked me long and hard, crushing me beneath His body as I
surrendered to his control. It was heavenly and so different than anything I had ever
experienced. For once I was the putty in my lover’s hands, unable to control any aspect of
what was happening and loving every minute of it.
After a long and strenuous romp on top of me, He lifted Himself up with his arms,
his cock deep in my pussy, and asked, “Are you protected?”
Eager to feel his seed fill me up, I raggedly replied, “Yes, fill me with your come
Sir!”
I was shocked when he slapped me hard across the face twice, and said, “Where are
your manners? Now ask me nicely!”
“Please Sir!” I cried, “Fill my pussy with your come, please!”
He started a slow pounding of His cock into my sex, staying up on his arms. I
grunted and groaned with each harsh thrust, my tits bouncing from every collision of our
hips. After a dozen or so thrusts I could feel his cock swell and begin pumping inside me,
a feeling that overwhelmed me and made me feel wonderful. He kept thrusting, slower now,
but continuously until his cock started to shrink and eventually slipped out of my
well-used sex.
He rolled off me, stood up and said, “Get some sleep, I will collect you in the
morning.”
The shock of such an intimate coupling ending in such a callous way left me
speechless. It wasn’t until He left the room did I realize that I was still bound to the
bed with his spunk dribbling out of my pussy. I was tempted to yell and call Him back to
release me, but for some strange reason I did not. Instead I just lay there thinking about
Ryan and what a strange and beguiling man He was. I eventually fell asleep, dreaming about
what we just did, or should I say what he did to me?
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