Hallway lights buzzed dim. Footsteps scraped the parquet. I cracked my door. There he was. Antoine. Tall frame, châtain hair tousled, piercing green eyes catching mine. That smile—adorable, melancholic. The guy from chats. My sweet perv. Lived close, he said. Now I knew: two doors down. ‘Evening,’ he murmured, brushing past. Cologne lingered. ‘Out with friends?’ I whispered. He nodded, vanished down stairs. Door thudded shut. Heart hammered. Everyone else asleep. Risk already buzzing.
Back inside. Door clicked soft. Parquet creaked under bare feet. Two hours ticked. Surfing net, invisible. He was gone. Friday night. Perfect. Paper crumpled in fist—his number. Stripped naked. Couch sagged. Cushion propped ass high. Porn DVD queued, volume off. TV glow filtered through blinds. Neighborhood dark. Silent houses. Thin walls everywhere.
The Contact
Fingers grazed tits. Nipples hardened fast. Too sensitive. Pussy lips slick already. Dipped in. Nectar coated fingers. Imagined him watching. His cock, thick from pics. Hand trailed down. Bush damp. Clit throbbed. Slid middle finger in. Then index. Slow pumps. Moans slipped out. Hushed. Controlled. But building so quiet.
Butt plug gleamed. Basic one. Slim. Lubed it in pussy first. Juices soaked. Pressed to asshole. Rosette yielded. Slow push. Groan escaped. Parquet? No, couch creaked faint. Deeper. Twisted it. Ass clenched. Left it buried. Fucked cheeks to mattress. Held tight.
Vibrator next. Buzzed low. Teased pussy lips. Clit begged. Poised. Thrust in deep. Out quick. Slathered in cum. Frenzied rubs on clit. Hips bucked. Plug shifted in ass. Double fire. Eyes half-shut. Porn dude pounded blonde on screen. Glow danced on walls. Blinds rattled soft. Wind? Or neighbor stirring?
The Indiscretion
Phone. Redialed his number. Heart slammed. Message droned faint. ‘Salut, Antoine…’ Bip pierced air. Ignored it. Legs splayed. One foot on couch arm. Plug pumped ass now. In-out. Slick pops muffled. Whimpers built. ‘This what you want, you fucker?’ Breathless hiss. Grabbed vibe. Deep thrust pussy. Pull to clit. Grind hard. Repeat. Faster.
Hips rolled. Ass fucked itself on plug. Electricity shot low. Gurgles from throat. Louder. Fuck the noise. Walls paper-thin. Neighbors dreaming. Old lady next door? Kids above? Any stir, they’d hear. Couch springs whined. Flesh slapped toy. Clit raw. Fingers replaced vibe. Brutal circles. Pain-pleasure blur.
Orgasm crashed. Body locked. High squeals burst. Bit lip bloody. Waves ripped. Pussy spasmed. Ass gripped plug. Juices squirted. Cried out. Unstoppable. Thirteen minutes forty-seven. Hung up. Gasped. Collapsed. Glow faded. Blinds shadowed.
Silence fell heavy. Heart thundered ears. Footsteps? Hallway parquet groaned distant. Him back early? Peephole peek. Empty. Door across clicked later. His. Light slivered under mine? No, his door. Muffled voice—checking messages? My moans replaying. Cock hardening next door. Secret throbbed. Slipped to bed. Sheets cool. Neighborhood slept. Our dirt, locked tight.