Good neighbours - NSFW

Be a good neighbor and borrow out some sugar.

“Christy-Lynn, open your legs,” Julian said, disdain etched on his face, as he watched Christy-Lynn clumsily attempt to get out of the car, torso first. “If you’re going to insist on doing it that way, then put one leg on the ground first and use the door frame to pull yourself up.” 

Gracefulness wasn’t one of her redeeming qualities and Julian never shied away from bringing it to her attention. She closed the door and watched as he sped off up the road. “Boys and their toys,” she said to herself. She loved Julian’s customised Honda Civic, the grunt of the engine sometimes made her nether regions twinge.

Nestled on a hill in Rocky Crest, Eagles Nest typified Namibian middle-class suburbia; sprawling apartment complexes with high walls and electric fences. “Windhoek is rising,” Julian always said whenever they discussed how the city was growing. The housing units were double storey duplexes, walled off in pairs, to give the tenants privacy. With a pro-nudity neighbour like hers, she could practically sunbathe naked on the front lawn. The units formed a circle around a sprawling landscaped garden. Christy-Lynn tackled the roundabout walk to units 5 and 6, hers was unit 5. The door in the wall was open, Onesmus was home. She felt her phone vibrate as she walked in, she reach into her handbag to pull it out. It slipped out of her hand, she reached for it, catching it as it was about to fall onto the pavement. She couldn’t afford to fix a cracked screen of yet another smart phone. She felt a sudden jolt and everything went dark for a moment.

“Hey neighbour, are you alright?” said a voice which her ears knew intimately. It was Onesmus. She lifted her head to see him looking down at her. Brown eyes, chiselled jaw, neatly trimmed beard and shaved head – looking at him all day would be her ideal way of killing time. “You can be a bit clumsy, this is the second time you’ve bumped into me.” 

Christy-Lynn’s face involuntarily contorted into a frown that challenged his audacity to call her clumsy. He gathered her things with one arm, while easily helping her up with the other. She wasn’t exactly a slender model type, with an A cup chest. She was the kind of girl whose breasts heaved every time she sneezed. He held onto her arm as she tried to steady herself, leaning against him to find her balance. She never really noticed, but he was a tall man. Anyone who could look her in the eye was vertically advantaged – she towered over most men, a trait she inherited from her father.

“How about I make it up to you with dinner? Say eight tonight?” he asked, carrying her bags while she unlocked the front door. 

Christy-Lynn gladly accepted. “Okay, that’s fine with me, Shigwedha.”

The annoyance on his face was clear, he never liked it when she called him by his surname. She turned to get her bags from him, he walked right up to her. They stood almost nose to nose. His scent seduced her nostrils, his eyes slowly hypnotized her. Onesmus was temptation on legs. Christy-Lynn stared at him longer than she intended, she couldn’t help herself. She was mesmerized, she longed to taste his brown skin. Was he about to kiss her? Was she really ready for this? 

Then he turned the handle and pushed the door open. Handing her bags back to her, he turned on his heels and broke into a slow jog. He was past the door in the wall in an instant and disappeared towards the garden at the roundabout. The sight of his muscled thighs and calves kept flashing through her mind as she dropped the bags on the couch, at least now she had something to fantasise about in the shower.

Later Christy-Lynn stood and admired, flirting with her reflection in the mirror. A mane of brown curls framed her oval shaped face. She grabbed a fistful of hair and tied it with hair clips. Wearing her hair pulled up always brought out her eyes: big; brown; piercing eyes. She decided to put real effort into her appearance, if she didn’t catch his attention tonight, she never would. She smoothed her dress around her thick thighs as she took the short walk next door. She had chosen a little black number that hugged her body like a second skin, with a risqué neckline that showed just enough cleavage, too much would be slutty and that wasn’t her intention. 

Christy-Lynn knocked, but there was no answer. A dim light penetrated through the curtains, so she knocked again. She turned the handle, opened the door and stepped inside. The ambiance created by candle light and soft jazz in the background lulled her in, Onesmus had outdone himself. 

She froze, were her eyes deceiving her? A woman in a white blouse and a black skirt lay on the couch, another in a blue backless dress sat leaning into her with her back towards the front door. Surely her eyes were messing with her? Blue Dress her hand in the others skirt and was feasting on her neck. White Blouse arched her back as she slowly let out a soft moan. The sensuality of seeing two women indulging in each other made her watch them a little longer than she intended. Blue Dress had short neatly cropped hair and a dream catcher tattoo across her back. It was Pandu, Onesmus’s friend. They met the last time she was invited over for dinner.

Christy-Lynn cleared her throat and startled White Blouse, who sat up, her eyes now open, an embarrassed smile on her face. Pandu turned her head, and threw Christy-Lynn a dismissively nonchalant gaze. She turned her head back towards White Blouse and kissed her. White Blouse gently removed Pandu’s hand from her skirt. 

“Hey there neighbour,” said Onesmus as he walked towards Christy-Lynn from the kitchen, blue apron and all. He startled her, her grip on the wine bottle in her right hand loosened. She fumbled, momentarily catching it with her left, before it slipped out of her hand again. She winced as she anticipated it falling and shattering. But Onesmus reached forward, slid on the tiled floor and caught it.

Onesmus stood up, a clumsiness lecture was surely coming. She was surprised when he turned his gaze towards the two on the couch. “I told you both, that I was expecting company. Get a room!” 

He turned towards Christy-Lynn, “I am sorry you had to see that.”

She replied, “See what? I didn’t see anything.” 

Onesmus walked up to her, leaving no space between them as his free hand grazed her hip. His beard brushed and prickled her cheek as he whispered into her ear, “The thing with you being so pale, is that when your cheeks are flushed, it’s bloody obvious.”

His musky scent overcame her, she wanted him, and the scene on the couched had fanned the flames of her raging carnal appetite. He slowly pulled away and motioned her to towards the kitchen. “There is a table already set outside. Go ahead and sit down, I will be out with the food in a jiffy.” 

Onesmus arrived with dinner, the conversation turned into an interrogation. The girls wanted to know more about Christy-Lynn, they wanted to know everything from what her job as a News Editor entailed, to what the boldness of her lip piercing represented. Clearly Onesmus’s friends were very over protective, constantly referring to her as ‘coloured girl’.

“For a moment during dinner, I didn’t think you’d survive,” Onesmus said later as they stood watching the girls drive off in a sporty blue hatchback. 

They walked to her front door. “You want to dance?” asked Onesmus. 

Christy-Lynn replied, “There is no music, Shigwedha.” 

Before she knew it he, he’d scrolled into his phone’s playlist and Phil Collins ‘One more night’ set the tone.

She put an arm around his neck, she lifted her ankle to take her heels off. He bent down and took a knee, “Let me,” he said, tenderly caressing her ankles as he removed the left and then the right. He stood up. She felt his hands, warm on the small of her back, while her arms rested on his shoulders. Dancing was the only thing she could do gracefully, their thighs occasionally brushed against each other, brief but sensual contact. She turned around at the song’s midpoint, her back to him, she started gently grinding her big ass into him. He followed her rhythm with his hands on her hips, they swayed from side to side. The fervent needy touch of her fingers caressing his cheeks, stroking his beard. She lost herself in the moment, such passion had long been absent from her life. And then he suddenly pulled away, the song had stopped. 

She turned to face him, he took her hand in his. She felt the warmth of his lips against her hand. “Good night neighbour,” he said as he slowly walked away. 

“Care for night cap?” She said, enticing him to come in. He shook his head and kept walking backwards, “I am sorry, I have to take a rain check, maybe next time.” 

She let out a frustrating sigh and watched his tall frame disappear. Disappointment filled her as she threw her heels on the floor, she closed the door and headed upstairs to her bedroom. Content with more provocative visions for her fantasies, but disappointed that the thirst in her loins remained at it was, unquenched.

She felt the invigorating warmth of late afternoon Windhoek sunshine bronzing the back of her calves and all the way up to the top of her shoulders as she lay outside on a towel. Her skin was as pale as one of the vampires from the twilight movies and she desperately needed a little color. She drifted in and out of a state of nirvana, induced by Bob Marley’s distinctive voice resonating from her earphones and a few glasses of imagination stimulating Shiraz. She did raunchy things to Onesmus in her mind, things she wanted to do to him in real life. Her thoughts ran wild. 

She felt a jolt on her skin, violently pulling her back to reality. She sat up, still dazed. She looked up to see a bare chested Onesmus standing over her. Unsure whether her mind was still swimming in fantasy or slowly returning to reality, she just stared at him.

“Hey there neighbour,” Onesmus said with a naughty smile. His voice brought her to her senses. Christy-Lynn glanced down in horror, her bikini top lay strewn on her towel.

“Sorry, static electricity,” he said, still with a mischievous smile. 

She covered her breasts with one arm. “You like what you see?” she asked, raising her voice slightly. 

He turned around. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have looked,” said Onesmus. 

Christy-Lynn put her bikini top back on. “I can’t blame you, if I was a guy, I probably would’ve done the same.” 

Then Onesmus politely asked to borrow a spray nozzle, he’d accidentally driven over his. She walked to the garage and returned, handing it to him with a playful smile, “Who’s the clumsy one now?”

She tried to read the weekend paper. But, every time she caught a glimpse of Onesmus’ chiselled pecks, concentration deserted her. She watched him methodically lather his grey sedan in soap. He looked good in a pair of shorts. “Wouldn’t mind wrapping my legs around that,” she said to herself. Her body’s lustful desire dared her to do it, but her mind disagreed, lustful desire triumphed. She walked over as he crouched to lather the rims and tyres with soap. 

“Since you had me over last weekend, how about you come over for dinner tonight?” she asked, leaning against the side of the bonnet, making sure that the first thing he saw when he looked up was an eyeful of her thighs. 

“Fine by me,” he replied. He looked up and licked his lips, he was eating her up with his eyes. He put a cold hand on her thigh, unleashing a thrill that ran through her body, making the hair on her arms stand on end. 

“Hand me that spray nozzle will you?” he asked. Then with mischief etched on his face, he said, “Your thighs are like the way I prefer my steak, medium to well.” 

She saw him attach the nozzle to the hose pipe. Surely he wasn’t childish enough to spay her with water?

“Don’t you dare,” Christy-Lynn said sternly. It was too late, a stream of water came rushing at her. She was soaked. She walked away, deliberately gyrating her derriere in a slow sultry strut to catch his attention. Defiant in silence, she gathered her things. She closed the door behind her, leaning against it to catch a glimpse of Onesmus through the window as she stripped and covered herself with the towel. “Be still my ovaries,” she said to herself. As she squeezed her thighs together, she felt a trickle down the inside of her thigh, she was wet. Onesmus would be the end of her.

“So what kind of engineer are you?” asked Julian. 

Onesmus replied, “Civil Engineer.” 

Julian grilled him like he was a steak, wanting to know everything from his intentions with his precious Christy-Lynn, to whether he had a baby mama. Julian also kicked his ass in a testosterone fuelled game of Scrabble. 

“You two shouldn’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” were Julian’s parting words, probably realising that three was a crowd. 

“For a moment during dinner, I didn’t think you’d survive,” she said as she handed him a bowl of desert as they leaned against the kitchen counter. He had his friends grill her, so it was only fair that she let Julian loose on him as well. Initially hesitant, Onesmus eventually got into his desert, one spoonful at a time. 

“You have something on your lips,” he said to her. As his finger grazed her bottom lip, she took his finger into her mouth and sensually sucked on it. Surely he was done with the teasing? He was hesitant, she feared the worst. 

“Idiot, rip my clothes off. Bend me over the counter and fuck me like you mean it.” She meant to scream out but the words got stuck in her throat. 

Her fears disappeared as he inched closer and closer. Finally he kissed her, hungrily covering her lips. She was drowning in the taste of him. His lips still tasted like desert, chocolate filled smoked banana and vanilla ice cream. She surrendered herself completely, letting his hands rove at will. With an arm around her waist, he lifted her onto the kitchen counter. Her hands violently grabbed at his t-shirt, lifting it over his head. Her lips kissed the muscled chest that had tortured her previously. They consumed each other, she had one leg wrapped around him and a hand in his jeans. He throbbed in her hand. He had one hand in her bra, circling patterns on her nipple and the other gently squeezing her ass.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered as she nibbled on his ear lobe.

He carried her upstairs. Dim light illuminated the curve of her back as she stood facing the bed, soft music set the rhythm. He unzipped her dress, sliding it past her thighs, he unclasped her bra. He slowly pulled her panties to her ankles, she stepped out of them and he tossed them on top of her dress.

The kisses he placed on the back of her thighs as he made his way up, made her hornier, her groans grew louder. His body felt warm as she nestled in his embrace. He nibbled her neck. If they could talk, her ovaries would yell in frustration from her pelvis, loudly screaming out their unsatisfied yearnings. She felt her body shudder as his hand moved slowly downwards, past her navel to her soft center. Teasing her, he parted her lips, his thumb danced on her clit. The ache deep inside her grew even stronger, she shook. She felt her body shudder again as he slid a finger into her hot moist core, followed by another. It had been too long since she’d felt anything inside her that wasn’t her own fingers or a vibrator.

“Slowly,” she moaned softly. He slowed his rhythm. He was patient, slowly increasing the pressure, his fingers played her like she was a piano. Every touch lit her blood on fire. He went down on her, he knelt, and she stood. His lips and his tongue moved in harmony, unleashing sensations on her clit that made her eyes roll back in her head and her toes curl. He muffed her soul out, sending her over the edge. Waves of ecstasy rippled through her as her body trembled, it felt like she was exploding from the inside, she screamed his name in pleasure.

She stroked him through his jeans as she caught her breath. She tugged at his belt and unbuckled it. She worked on his zip, pulling his jeans and boxers down simultaneously. He stood at attention. She took him slowly in her mouth. He felt warm. Her lips kissed and welcomed him, getting him ready. She reached for a condom from the dressing table, she rolled it onto him, gently stroking and squeezing his hardness. She walked to the bed, lying provocatively with her legs crossed, inviting him to ravage her. 

“Shigwedha, come here. I’m all yours.” 

He needed no second invitation, she felt his body slide onto hers as he inched up the bed, slowly and sensually kissing and biting his way up. He spread her legs, and he slowly slid into her. The pleasure of finally having him inside her rushed through her body. Between thrust and moans, she whispered into his ear, “Now, you’re being a good neighbour.”