His eyes rake my body, and I’d swear those ochre eyes dilate. His chest rises and falls, but no anger mars his features.
I wiggle my fingers at his foot with a “shoo.” He’s so surprised he takes a lone step back, met properly with my door in his face.
Alanis for the win.
11
cliff’s notes
Liam
What the fuck just happened?
The cute, bubbly neighbor just told me off and slammed the door in my face. She dismissed me with less annoyance than shit on her shoe.
But the ploy was just that… a ploy. She was surprised. It took watching her this last month to see the act of straightening her spine, lifting her stubborn chin, and forcing out the words.
It’s thesir, though, that’s problematic, because it sends blood straight to my cock.
Because I’ve imagined her. Pictured her bent over my sofa or on all fours for me. I’ve considered what she’d look like on her knees sucking my cock down like a greedy girl, her throat swallowing around the rim. I’ve envisioned her riding my dick with her tits bouncing. They’re small, less than a handful, but they bounce enough and, if I’m not mistaken, they tip up a little. At least that’s what her tiny tee suggested this morning. They were certainly visible through the thin white cotton.
Thatsirmakes me hard, makes me want her. I can’t stand here on her back stoop, cock hard and straining for her, and discuss her music choices. It was a long shot anyway, seeing if she was up for breakfast, but now that I’m… up, eating is the last thing onmy mind.
Unless it’s the girl next door.
Given the opportunity, she would’ve been a delicious breakfast.
I’ve fist my cock and stroke myself until all I can see are her eyes and all I can feel is the screaming of nerves up and down my spine. My balls are so tight it verges on painful. I squeeze tighter, pull up in a vise grip, and thumb my slit and barbell.
Three-two-one. My orgasm rips through me with a force of few before.
The groan it tears from me is surely audible next door, and I don’t give a single fuck. The only way that could’ve been better is if Lorien were here. Watching.
Or participating.
Either would’ve been preferable. But thinking of her was enough. That and thesir.
A knock on my door makes my lip quirk. I wonder if she’s here because she likes what she heard or if she’s going to give me what-for for daring to make noise.
I clean up as the door pounds for the second time. Feisty Lorien, I’m guessing. Game on.
“Hold up, Trix. I’m coming.” I laugh to myself at my joke. This doesn’t say much about my maturity. We’re all eight-year-old boys when it comes to dick humor. Or farts.
I pull the door open and the sight on my doorstep is not my annoyed neighbor. It’s a man in all beige. Average height. Average build. There’s nothing notable in his appearance other than it’s void of color.
“Liam Murphy?”
“Who’s asking?” It’s more of a growl than a response.
“You’ve been served.” He thrusts an envelope my way before seeing my face and thinking better of it.
I don’t extend a hand. In fact, I cross my arms over my chest and puff up to look as big as possible.
Physically, he’s no threat. But what he just said is.
“I— Well, here.” He sets the papers on the bottom step of my home and backs away.
Smart boy.
