J moved in next door a couple of months ago, coming and going from work with just enough conversation that I added him to my fantasy repertoire early on. Handsome strangers with low, sexily accented voices are quality masturbation material. But even with my slutty ways, I wasn’t about to risk my health for some strange mid-pandemic.
Then the yardwork happened. My pandemic garden had withered over the long winter, but rising spring temps brought me back outside, prepping the beds for future harvest. Working in full sun, outside, I like to wear as little as possible – tight cropped tanks and grey sweats that cling to my ample ass just right. Timing it right I think I manage to put on a nice little show for the neighbors and afternoon handsome dad dog-walker crowd. This also happens to be when J returns home from work. Yesterday was a big day – planting day – so I was out for longer than usual, on my knees trowling up earth to plant my seedlings. Cleavage glistening with sweat, hands streaked with dirt from pulling up weeds and overturning earth, showing enough ass to give the moms on my block something to gossip about, I heard a soft hello from the sidewalk. I looked up and there was J, smiling at me under his mask, soft brown eyes crinkled around the edges and shining with obvious attraction.
J is only a bit taller than average height, but compared with me very tall, with a tight, muscular body. Just ahead of the pandemic he moved into the city from Venezuela, and English acquisition hadn’t been much of a priority for him so far. Accents of any kind give me an instant lady-boner, but here the idea of fucking someone who, because of our mutually limited conversation range, would see in me purely an object of lust, rather than getting caught up in the edges of my awkward personality… these thoughts have sent me running to my vibrator for release many a time. But this time I wasn’t imagining the not-so-subtle swelling in his pants as he gazed down at me. And reader, being just about two weeks out now from my first vaccine shot I figured I’ve been good for long enough.
Biting my lip, I responded with an hola to make him grin and sat up a bit*. Es muy calor hoy. Después de que termine aquí, quieres venir a mi casa y tomar una bebida?* Far from the smoothest line I know, but the subtext was obvious. Hasta a las 7, he responded, and I blushed a bit, feeling that familiar needy tension in my sex intensify as I watched him walk up his steps and throw me another long glance before going inside. I quickly finished my planting and ran inside to get showered up.
I knew we wouldn’t have much to talk about, so I was counting on the obvious sexual tension between us to quickly help things unfold. In real life I may be awkward (neurodiverse), but I’ve fantasized about touching J so often though that my desire for him will likely be written in every quickened breath, the slight dilation of my pupils and the subtle arching of my neck and back, presenting to him the gentle rise of my large, perkily upturned breasts as they swell in soft sighs of sexual frustration. I was hopeful very few words would be needed to make my intention clear to J, because frankly, I never learned the kind of Spanish that would allow me to do so verbally.
At 7 on the dot I heard his knock at the door. In his hand were two bottles of beer, frosty from the fridge. He entered, set them down by the door, and almost instantly our eyes locked. Two quick steps and wordlessly we fell into each other, lips and tongues seeking each other. One of his hands was snaking down from the small of my back over the curves of my ass when I heard him moan. Hola, hermosita, he said, looking into my eyes and giving me a squeeze. Delighted by how easily I’d managed this, by how delicious it was to touch and be touched after months of unfulfilled bodily longing for contact, I knew I’d made a very good decision. Hola, guapo, I breathed in response, briefly nuzzling my face into his freshly shaven chin before breaking free. Sígueme.
He followed me back into my bedroom as I quickly tightened up my ponytail. Quítate tu ropa, I tell him, already beginning to pull off my thin sundress. I enjoyed watching him lose concentration part way through his task, staring at my exposed DDD breasts, far too large for my tiny frame. Placing his hands on them in invitation I helped free him from his joggers, my hands drifting over his tightly muscled abs and the chiseled curve of his ass. His body was so hot, reader, and mine so desperate for this kind of touch that his hands caressed my breasts for less than a minute before I erupted into my first small orgasm.
He looked at me surprised – most partners are once they learn how eager my body is to come for them. I pushed him down onto my bed, losing myself once again in making out with this handsome man I’ve already fantasized about dozens of times. The sensation of his hands on my flesh, tracing the bare skin of my back, tangled through my long hair, and squeezing on my plump ass cheeks were every bit as good as I had imagined at then some. My own hands quickly found the hard outline of his cock through his boxer-briefs. Just a little too long for comfort, maybe 7 inches or so, and very girthy. Mouthwateringly perfect in fact. Pulling his underwear down and out of my way I begin playing with his cock with my hand, enjoying rolling his uncircumcised foreskin down and up, using the pressure of my palm to stimulate his frenulum through this skin, and then down again, working the base of his shaft with the grip of my small hand. Realizing he’s been watching me, hypnotized by his nearly perfect cock, I make eye contact with him and grin. Me gusta mucho, I breathe as I lower my head to take him in my mouth.
I go slowly at first, letting him enjoy the encircling pressure of my lips before beginning to work the head of his dick with my tongue, slowly lapping sloppy circles around it, letting myself drool onto it to give my hand gripping onto the base of his shaft some lube to work with. I work his dick like this for several minutes before attempting to take him in my throat, choking before I can reach his base, backing off, and going again, and again, and again. I hear his groans of pleasure but stop myself, because I don’t have the words to ask about his refractory period, and I don’t want us to finish before I’ve ridden him to my own completion at least once.
Crawling up I kiss him, swinging one leg over his stomach so I can straddle his body and command our next step. I grab a condom from the bedside table and tease him while rolling it on, before sitting up and beginning to rub his dick against my cunt, lengthwise along my lips, using the head to tickle my clit. Seeing his willingness, I center it against myself and plunge down on it, barely suppressing my scream as I bottom out against his pelvic bone, feeling how well he fills me. I begin to fuck him slowly, raising my ass up and bringing it down, in and out, stopping occasionally to grind my clit against his pubic bone as his hands trace over my breasts, bringing me close to another orgasm.
Before I can claim it, however, J shifts his weight and flips me onto my back, and pushing inside my now dripping wet hole he begins to fuck me, hard, as fast as he likes, as I raise up my knees and wrap my legs around his back, allowing him in more deeply. He begins to kiss my neck, just below and behind my ear, and I can’t stop myself from cumming again in a long, contracting pulse, biting into his shoulder to stifle my scream.
He slows and I can tell he’s about to come. Espere, I tell him. Aqui, gesturing to my breasts. He pulls out, pulls off the condom, and I watch him grip his shaft hard, working it in just a few furious strokes before he erupts, shooting ropes of cum over my belly and breasts.
We lay back together on the bed, naked and for the moment calm, as I enjoy the sensation of his sticky cum congealing on my skin. One of his hands traces my hip bone. I bring his hand over, grazing my sex-swollen clit with them, silently urging him to explore the soft folds of labia and dive in. I watch him gazing at me until my eyes close from the building pressure of his fingers, now on my gspot, tips massaging it in a come-hither motion. Quieres comerte? My grammar may have been questionable, but my message is clearly on point, as he lowers himself and begins eating me out, fingers still tickling my gspot, speeding as my breathing grew heavier until working me into a final giant, thrashing, orgasm. After, savoring the taste of myself on his lips as we kiss goodbye, I know I’m far from finished with him – only finished for now.
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