December 1st, 2011:
It’s Thursday night and I’ve just agreed to go out to drinks with my tall, tanned, super jacked, sexy, sultry, next-door-neighbor who I’ve been hearing have awful sex EVERY Thursday night for the past three weeks.
So technically tonight he should be waking me up with his awful fucking noises.
Instead, he’s going out with me.
I told him I just got off work and that I’d be out in a sec.
Still standing at my door with this toned bulging arms and chest glistening with sweat, sex and scent-of-a-REAL-man, he said he’d obviously have to change into cleaner clothes too.
NO PLEASE DON’T CHANGE CLOTHES JUST TAKE THEM OFF!
My jaw must’ve still been dropped with the drool puddling at my toes when he finally said, “OK…meet you in between our doors say….a half hour?” before he walked off.
Collecting my dirty thoughts and vaginal fantasies, I remember that he has a GIRLFRIEND with whom he is APPARENTLY in love…who is STILL AWAY since Thanksgiving last week.
This is only gonna make it funner.
No, not because I plan to fuck him and taunt her when she comes back.
Not my style man. Chicks before dicks.
It’s because I plan to taunt him with my twat as I dangle the perceived notion that he very well may get to rub his face in it later on.
I already know he fucks like man who’s sticking his dick in acidic slime, so there’s no point in going there.
Even though I would LOVE to ride his fuckin shit til it BROKE OFF and needed to be surgically reattached, only for the doctors to LATER admit that it was a pointless and unnecessary procedure as I laugh, point, and touch myself in the corner of the surgery room.
Besides, AGAIN, no women or children in my kill count.
And if this guy is seriously asking me out to drinks while his girlfriend’s away…
Oh boy…he’s gonna get it.
But not really get it.
But you get it.
I put on my tight gray halter that makes my tits look like they’ve upgraded to actually existing and my black spandex Armani jeans which are jeans material in the front and skin tight stretchy pants around my ass.
I figured I’d go classy for an older gentleman.
Before opening the door, I take a deep breath to calm down my nerves as I’m actually far too excited to stop moving and fidgeting.
Tell-tale sign that I’m nervous.
Fuck, why am I nervous?
Cuz he’s hot?
So fucking what? I’M HOT TOO!
“Girlfriend girlfriend girlfriend….” I repeat to myself before opening the door.
This should help ease my woes into remembering that there really will be no expectations from this only that I expect to go home alone and masturbate to thoughts of him…again.
Now leaving my apartment, I meet him already in the hallway between our doors.
He’s wearing a black pea coat and he looks MUCH older than the last two times I’ve seen him.
With his rockin tight body and meaty muscles concealed, he looks much like the older next-door-neighbor I’d always perceived him to be, with his receding hairline and his casually chic attire.
Sadly, I’m comforted at the thought of me looking much sexier than him in this moment, as he had literally taken my breath away from me in our previous interactions.
We head on over to Stout, a bar about two blocks down.
I’d only been there once before but I know it’s a total guys’ place to go with their selection of micro-brewed beers and extensive burger options.
We both take our seats at the bar and make no hesitation in pounding away the beers.
I go with a Delirium, as it currently has the highest percentage of alcohol and that’s EXACTLY what I need to make it through this moment.
I ask him what his girlfriend’s up to and when she’ll be back for me to hear.
He giggles at my demeaning taunts and tells me that she’s not his girlfriend, but rather somebody he’s just been fucking for the past month.
My ears are peaked.
“Ya know…I actually don’t even like her. AT ALL. We just get drunk together, come home, and fuck…yeah…I’m not into her…she’s just a really young 26-year-old who doesn’t have her shit together…” he continues and follows with a sip of his beer, peering at me from the corner of his eye and watching my reaction.
I don’t know what stands out most to me from this: the fact that I actually can very well ride him til he bleeds tonight guilt-free or that he called her a young 26-year-old who doesn’t have her shit together.
Shit…I’m a young 25-year-old who doesn’t have my shit together.
The conversation is surprisingly easy and the flirtation is unsurprisingly thick.
Me: *not believing him* Yeah right that’s totally your girlfriend! You told me you were a man in love yesterday!
M&M: *laughing* Oh my God I wasn’t serious! I was just kidding…
Me: *perplexed and intrigued* (Who the fuck LIES about being in love?!) So I don’t get it…you don’t like her, you don’t respect her…and I KNOW the sex isn’t good! *now blushing from the obvious reference to me hearing him fuck her* Why even bother having sex with her then? Casual sex is so pointless!
M&M: *smiling salaciously and now licking his lips* No it’s not…casual sex can be really great… *now winking at me as he takes another sip of his beer*
Yup I’m wet.
What’s stopping me in this moment from taking his bottom lip between my teeth and putting my hands down his pants to grab his dick, I JUST DON’T KNOW!
But this is exactly what I wanna do as I picture myself cumming as loud as possible on the other side of that wall.
Jesus…I need to stop.
I order another Delirium…although I myself am now already in a delirium over the highly sexually charged air filling the space between us.
Casual sex can be great?
It’s only for whores and people who don’t respect themselves.
But then again, what do I know?
Up until two months ago, I’ve been confined in a collection of relationship after relationship for the past 10 years…maybe I shouldn’t talk.
At this point I’m too drunk to comprehend any type of conversation going on.
I just know that I’m horny and wanna pound the shit out of my neighbor.
Regardless of if he doesn’t have a girlfriend though, I’m still not gonna fuck him.
HE’S MY NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR!!!!
Maybe we can be friends despite the obvious sexual tension…?
We head back home eventually and I’m still too drunk to comprehend anymore of what’s going on while we’re out.
Back on the fourth floor, M&M and I walk back to our apartments together.
We then stop right between our two doors.
I look at him and he’s smiling slightly at me, neither one of us saying anything.
Me: *finally breaking the silence as a means to not break through his jeans to get to his dick* HEY! So what’s your number we should totally hang out again…
M&M: *after giving me his number and taking mine as well* So…what’re you doing for the rest of the night?
Me: *knowing damn well if either one of us enters the other’s door tonight we”ll wake up ALL the neighbors* Umm…I’m just gonna go to bed…I’m sooooooo tired…BUT I HAD SO MUCH FUN!! *now throwing my arms around him*
M&M: *laughing and hugging me tight in his arms* Haha noooo Doll you don’t have work tomorrow! Come on let’s hang summore!
Me: *sighing as I stare back into his sexy brown eyes, affirmative when I reply* I’m going to bed, M&M. *now unlocking the door to my apartment* Good night to you sir. *now standing in my doorway watching him head back to his door backwards*
M&M: *slow and unsatisfied* Ooooh…kay…*smiling and facing me while standing at his door* Good night sweetheart. *winking and still watching me*
I disappear into my apartment, close the door behind me, and melt down onto the floor against my door.
Nope, no way. Not fucking my neighbor.
Besides, he’s still FUCKING SOMEONE ELSE.
I laugh to myself as I realize that I’m not the one who lost in this equation, HE is.
I’d definitely rather be in a vaginal drought than continuously have bad sex with someone I don’t like or respect.
Shaking my head and now shaking off my clothes, I climb into bed and mass text all my girlfriends that, “GUESS WHAT BITCHES!!! DIDN’T FUCK THE NEIGHBOR!!! TOLD YOU I WOULDN’T.”
I can hear him now entering his own room and opening the windows on the other side of the wall.
Knowing he’s climbing into bed too, I curl into a ball as my hand finds its way down my panties.
If I’m not gonna fuck M&M I can at least THINK about fucking him.
Before I have a chance to even formulate the perfect sex scene in my head, I see my phone light up on my nightstand. The text reads:
“Hey I’ve got red wine…you should come over.”
I laugh to myself as I stare at my phone, re-reading the text over and over, completely baffled as to how I should reply.
SHOULD I come over…?
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