Bob and Tricia are a new couple in our neighbourhood. They moved in a few weeks back. They’re somewhat younger than me, both being in their early twenties, but a nice enough couple. Except for one little problem. Tricia can’t stand the sight of me.
Not my fault, I assure you, totally not my fault. Let me tell you what happened. Shortly after they moved in Bob decided that he wanted to make some adjustments to the plumbing. Too many leaky taps and so on. It was just the sort of plumbing job that any husband could handle around the house. Put in a few new washers, put new tape on a couple of joints, tighten a few connections.
Bob reserved a Saturday for it and got to work bright and early. Now I’m quite an efficient handyman and I knew Bob was going to be doing the plumbing so I told him that if he ran into any problems to give me a yell and I’d drop over and give him a hand. So he did run into a little problem and he did give me a yell. True to my word I wandered over and helped him out. It was no big deal, just a minor hitch that required two people to work on it to get it done.
Seeing I was there I stayed to change a couple of washers. Bob was doing the ones in the bathroom while I was fixing the tap in the kitchen. That’s when the, ah, situation arose.
Bob and I are superficially similar. Both of us are rather solid men of about the same height and both with dark hair. You can see how someone expecting to see one of us in a certain situation could make a mistake.
Tricia had been sleeping in. Why not? It was a Saturday morning and Bob had shut off the water so why not keep out of the road and take advantage of the situation to have a lie in? Anyone could understand that happening.
Anyway, Tricia finally got up while I was working in the kitchen. She came strolling into the kitchen while I was bent over the sink and naturally assumed that I was Bob. She took a provocative pose, leaning against the kitchen door, and suggested that I might like to come back to bed for a while.
I stood up and turned around and there was Tricia, sex on legs, a provocative little minx, smiling at me. She hadn’t dressed after getting out of bed, just slipping on a house-coat which she hadn’t bothered to do up. All her charms were on display and she had some very lovely charms.
“Geez, I’d love to, Tricia,” I told her, “but don’t you think that Bob might object?”
It was hilarious to see the way the smile froze on her face and then seemed to just fade away. Talk about surprised.
“Ah, um, I thought you were Bob,” she mumbled.
“Nope. Tony’s the name. We have met. I live just up the road. Here to give Bob a bit of a helping hand.”
Maybe I was little bit too obvious about appreciating the scenery. I could see when the shocked realisation hit her that she was standing there effectively naked, giving me one hell of a free peep show. She gave a startled squawk, frantically snatched the house-coat closed, and bolted.
Bob came out to see what the noise was.
“Just Tricia,” I told him. “She didn’t know I was here and got a bit of a shock.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Yeah, I didn’t tell her you were helping. No worries, mate. She’ll be right.”
I didn’t mention her state of dress and I strongly suspect that Tricia didn’t either. But since that time she’s tended to look daggers at me whenever she sees me. Not fair, in my opinion. After all, like I said, it wasn’t my fault.
As I got to know Bob and Tricia it quickly became apparent that Bob and I were never going to be close friends. We were just too different and we settled very quickly into the role of neighbours and acquaintances, each going out own way.
That was how things stood when I ran into Bob in an unfortunate situation. I’d been down to the pub, had a couple of beers, and played some pool. I’d noticed Bob at the bar when I got a drink but apart from nodding to him we didn’t get together.
I left the pub and I was still sober, not having to worry about cops with breathalysers. I reached my car and by a coincidence Bob was parked just a few spots over and he was trying to get in his car. I say trying as he seemed to be having trouble making the car stay still so he could put the key in the lock. I walked over and watched him for a moment and quickly came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t have to worry about a breathalyser. If he tried to blow into one he’d probably pass out.
There were a couple of subtle signs that gave him away. The first and most obvious was the way he was hanging onto the car while trying to get the key in the lock. The second was the fact that he had a remote unlock on his key and had pushed it, several times. The trouble was that with some cars, if you don’t open a door after you’ve used the remote unlock, they relock themselves after about twenty seconds. Bob was too pissed to get the door open in the time frame and it kept relocking on him.
There was no way I could let him drive home in that condition. Self-preservation for a start. He’d be driving in the same area that I’d be driving in and any accident he had could easily include me. I cursed to myself and decided to run him home.
“Say, Bob, it looks like you’ve got a defective key there,” I told him. “Why don’t I run you home and you can get someone to check the key in the morning?”
He looked at me and then looked at his key and nodded.
“The key. Knew it was the key,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I guess I’d better get a lift.”
I steered him over to my car and eased him in. He promptly passed out. That was OK. As long as he stayed passed out and didn’t wake up and throw up I’d be satisfied.
It didn’t take long for me to reach his place. I hoicked him out of the car and half dragged, half carried him to the front door and rang the bell. Tricia answered and gave us both a dirty look.
“I’d better bring him in,” I told Tricia. “Where do you want him put?”
Tight-lipped, she stalked back into the house with me following behind. She opened a door and silently pointed to the bed in the room. A single bed, I noticed. Bob was sleeping in the spare room tonight. One step above being outside in the doghouse I guess.
I dumped Bob on the bed and left the room. Tricia was standing there, waiting for me, looking furious.
“Hey, don’t blame me,” I said. “I just brought him home. Figured it was safer than letting him drive.”
I was looking her over as I spoke and couldn’t help smiling. She had on a wrap-around house-dress, fastened by a tie-belt. The reason for the smile was that it was the same dress that she’d nearly been wearing in the kitchen that time.
Tricia seemed a little incensed at the fact that I was smiling, or perhaps because I was letting my eyes wander and she remembered what I’d seen.
“If you had any decency you wouldn’t have let him get into that condition in the first place,” she snapped.
“In that first place is the fact that Bob’s an adult and able to make his own choices,” I pointed out. “In second place, I wasn’t at the pub with him and had no way of monitoring his intake. Sorry, love, but this isn’t my fault, either.”
Perhaps I shouldn’t have added that last word.
“What do you mean, either?”
“Just that it wasn’t my fault that you decided to flash me in the kitchen,” I said in an innocent tone. “It was your choice so I don’t see why you should blame me for it.”
“I did not flash you,” Tricia said, enunciating each word slowly and clearly. “It just seems to me that unfortunate things happen around you.”
“Beg to differ,” I murmured. “You did indeed flash me and I didn’t consider it unfortunate. As a matter of fact I thought it a stroke of good luck. Same dress as you’ve currently got on.”
If looks could kill, etcetera, etcetera. She nodded towards the front door.
“You’ll want to be getting home. Don’t let me delay you,” she said.
Maybe that beer I’d had had lowered my inhibitions. There had to be some logical reason for what I did next.
“I can’t help wondering if you’re wearing the same things under that dress as last time. If you’ll excuse me for a moment?”
I reached out and tugged at the bow of the tie-belt. It promptly undid and came loose. Just like that I was holding the belt and the gown was gaping open, revealing that she did indeed have on the same as last time – nothing.
She had guts, I have to admit. Instead of squealing and snatching the robe closed she just grandly ignored it, holding out her hand.
“My belt, please,” she said. I could sense the icicles dripping from her words.
As I said, it was a tie-belt, just a long strip of material, really. Her hand was right there in front of me and I dropped the tie-belt over her wrist and with a quick twist I’d looped the belt around her wrist. Naturally enough she snatched her hand back but that was fine by me. That’s what I wanted. I moved towards her at the same time, catching her arm and pushing it behind her back. It only took me a moment to loop the belt around both her wrists.
She was swearing at me and I was laughing at her. Holding the belt with one hand, which stopped her pulling her hands free, I used my free hand to brush the house gown off her shoulders, letting it slither down her arms. Then I leaned back and admired her.
I lightly pressed one nipple and then the other, seeing them coming to life under my touch. Then I slid my hand down and ran it lightly over her mons, feeling her twist about as my hand moved over her. Damned if I could tell if she was trying to pull away from or push up against my hand.
Moving slowly I undid my trousers, letting them drop to reveal my erection. Damn right I had an erection. It had snapped into being as soon as her dress parted and revealed her lack of underwear.
“I,” I said to her, “am going to lift you up and impale you on my cock.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, speaking just as softly as I was.
“I most certainly would,” I contradicted her, while sliding both my hands around her and cupping her bottom. “There is only one way you can prevent this.”
“And what is that?”
“Ask me not to.”
I was now fondling her bottom quite blatantly, my hands roaming over it, sliding around the curve and pressing at the soft flesh between her legs. Tricia was breathing harder and glaring at me.
“I am not asking you for a damn thing. You won’t dare try to do it.”
About that stage her house-coat slithered to the floor. This meant that her hands had come loose from the tie-belt, even if they did stay tucked behind her. I tightened my grip on her bottom pulling her closer so she could feel my erection pressing against her. I also eased her back so her back was brushing the wall.
Hands firmly cupping her cheeks I lifted, sliding her against me, the wall preventing her from falling back. I lifted her higher than required, and by required I meant a height that would allow her to slide down onto my cock. I’m quite strong, strong enough to lift her until her breasts were in front of my face.
I leaned my face into her breasts, rubbing myself against them, knowing she was feeling the rasp of my stubble against her softness. Finding a nipple under my lips I bit it lightly and then soothed it with my tongue.
I pressed a knee forward, making sure her legs were parted. Finally I started lowering her.
“If you want me to stop now’s the time to say so,” I pointed out. Very much the time to say so. I could feel the tip of my cock brushing against her lips. If she didn’t speak up she would find herself sliding down a slippery slope. Maybe I should say she’d find me sliding up a slippery slope.
She certainly wasn’t going to ask me for any favours. She kept her mouth firmly closed. That didn’t stop another pair of lips from opening as I slipped into her. I took my time, easing her down, letting my erection slowly creep up into her, making its way deep inside her.
Holding her pinned against the wall, held in place by my cock, I reached down for her legs, sliding my hands behind her knees and lifting.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
“Putting your legs around my waist,” I explained, bringing them up and feeling them wrap around me.
With her legs around me to help support her I moved my hands up and around her back, holding her against me. Then I turned and walked down the hallway, carrying her straddling me. That was my intention, anyway.
What actually happened was that I damn near tripped over. My trousers were bunched around my ankles, preventing me going anywhere. I kicked at them shaking my legs in an effort to get rid of them. Not helped by the fact that Tricia caught on to my predicament and started giggling. Damn it. She was supposed to be asking for mercy, not laughing at me.
I got one leg free and that was sufficient for my purposes. This time I walked down the hallway, carrying her along on my cock.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” she demanded.
“To find a nice carpet to lay you on,” I told her. “I perform a lot better lying down.”
What I was really trying to do was stall for a bit of time. I was in a quandary. I’d really expected her to ask me not to do this, or at least tell me not to. But she hadn’t and it was slowly dawning on me that she had no intention of doing so. If I did back off and withdraw she’d laugh herself sick. If I didn’t I was going to have to fuck her rotten. Option two was always good, I decided.
I moved into the front room. Although the house generally had polished floorboards there was a nice plush rug in the front room. I nudged the coffee table off it with one foot and then knelt, tilting her until her back was leaning on the carpet. I settled down on top of her and started taking her. Hard.
She’d had ample time to get used to my cock inside her. Now she would have a chance to see just what it could do. Pulling back I drove in hard, while she gasped and pushed up to take me, legs flexing and pulling me in. That was the starting gun for me and I laboured hard to run the race. Not that it was going to be a sprint, more like a decent mile, which meant I had to pace myself to last the distance.
I set a fast pace, enjoying the friction between us, enjoying my dominance of this woman and her disapproval. She was putting as much into it as I was, gasping with the effort, being ridden hard and staying with her rider all the way.
Oddly enough, the entire time we were entangled she managed not to say a word. Possibly she was afraid that anything she said might be taken as a sign of approval. That’s not to say she was silent, with sundry gasps and other noises coming quite regularly, especially whenever I gave a slightly harder thrust.
I might have been somewhat older than her but I had the stamina required to deal with her. I took her relentlessly, sensing the excitement building within her. (And within me – I was ready to explode.) At the end I just couldn’t hold back any longer. I drove in hard and fast, surrendering to my need while hoping that I’d done enough to finish Tricia off.
I blew my load, feeling all the built up tensions in me relax, draining out of me with my seed. The biggest tension, wondering if I’d done enough, vanished with a scream. Hers, not mine, as she climaxed rather hard, her whole body shaking with it.
Afterwards we were both just lying on the floor, breathing hard. Tricia finally turned to look at me. (Glare at me, actually, which was as expected.)
“How dare you do that?” she demanded.
I wasn’t taking that lying down.
“How dare you not ask me to stop?” I demanded in return.
“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” she stated, sounding triumphant.
“OK,” I conceded. “In that case I guess you won that round.”
I’m a big man. I can acknowledge when someone has got the better of me. I also didn’t mind losses like that. I wondered if I could get a few more contests with her.