A Neighborly Feast

Knock, knock, knock..

It was late 1999, and my oldest son was off visiting his mother for the weekend, leaving me with the house all to myself. I wasn’t expecting anyone, especially at that time of night. The fact that the snow was piled 3-foot high, and continuing to fall, made me more than a little curious as to who it might be. Even back then, I preferred to run around in nothing but my boxers, so I only opened the door a crack to see who was on the other side.

“Hey,” came the soft, feminine voice of my neighbor. “We were having a party tonight and made extra food. Sara and I thought you might like some. Can I come in?”

“Sure,” I said, opening the door to let her in. Between the two of them, I don’t think I ever had to worry about going hungry. In fact, I am convinced it had become their life mission to take care of the poor bachelor/single father that ran in their circle. Like I couldn’t cook for myself? But, I wasn’t going to complain. “Where’s Sara?”

“Still at the house,” she said, knocking the snow off her boots as she stepped into the house. “Ummm…did you happen to know you are…well…almost naked?”

I just looked at her and waved her into the house.

“Well, that was a stupid question, wasn’t it?” she asked with a smirk, placing the still hot food on the coffee table.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” I replied with a wink, and pointed toward the couch. “Have a seat.”

“I can only stay for a minute, or two,” she said, falling into the deep recesses of my cushiony couch and patting the seat next to her.

Once again, it had started off innocent enough. We were making small talk about why I decided not to show up to her get-together that night. Honestly, though, it was hard to concentrate properly with her sliding her hand slowly up my inner thigh. In fact, by the time her fingers had slipped beneath the leg of my boxers, I was pretty much incoherent to any talking she wanted to do.

“Yeah,” she said, as her fingers began lightly tracing my balls. “I’m not supposed to be doing this…”

I cut her off with a laugh, knowing she had previously done far more with others that weren’t her husband.

“I’m serious,” she said, wrapping her fingers around my quickly hardening shaft. “The girls and I made a pact that none of us would have sex with you. You’re such a good friend to all of us, we didn’t want to ruin that.”

“Interesting…” is all I could say, while lifting my hips, allowing her to pull my boxers down to my knees.

“Mmhmm,” she mumbled, running both hands over my cock and balls, then slowly tracing my crown with her fingertips while shifting on the couch. “This is going to be the last time…”

“You talk too much,” I said, cutting her off as I gripped her ponytail like I had that day at her house. Guiding her downward, I felt her tongue snake out and lick my bulbous crown like I was her favorite lollipop. Pact or not, I wasn’t going to be left hanging for a second time.

Holding her hair in my grip, I turned her head slightly to watch her tongue tracing along the prominent ridge of my crown. Then she motioned to move, and releasing her hair from my grasp, I allowed her to slide off the couch. He deft hands slid up my calves, over my knees and up my thighs. Her fingers looped into the waistband of my boxers as she quickly pulled them the rest of the way off.

Parting my legs wide, she sidled up in between them and gripped my rigid, pulsating shaft in her soft hand. She just knelt there, stroking me slowly, her tongue once more tracing the ridge of my crown before repeatedly swiping over the tip. Then, I watched as she flattened her tongue and licked along my thick shaft. Reveling in how her skillful tongue traced the vein running underneath from the base to the crown.

Truthfully, it took all my self-control to keep from thrusting up into her waiting mouth when her lips circled my crown. I wanted nothing more than to do just that. So much so, that I was noticeably trembling with need when I gripped her hair once more in my fist and guided her mouth down my length.

She tried her best to take me all the way down her throat that night, but it just wasn’t going to happen. Several times, I felt my crown slipping as deeply as she could take me, before having to pull her head back again when her eyes began to water from choking. Just the same, she put every ounce of effort into her oral ministrations, working me with her mouth, hands and tongue.

Before long, I felt that uncontrollable urge building up inside. My balls were becoming heavy with need as my shaft began throbbing, pulsating between her lips. The pre-cum she had already been lapping up, was flowing even more, causing her to moan around my shaft. That was all it took. I was primed, ready, and in seconds…I exploded with large, forceful bursts. My seed rushed into her waiting mouth while she attempted to swallow every drop.

“Damn,” was all she could say as she milked the remaining drops from my shaft.

Shortly afterwards, she cleaned herself up and straightened her hair. Reminding me, “this didn’t happen” as she slipped out into the cold night air. Like I was going to tell anyone? What, and ruin a good thing? Not happening.
© AC Elliott, 26-Apr-18


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