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From: Jean-Marc Conier <jeanmarc@poboxes.com>
Subject: "Good Neighbor" by Jean-Marc Conier (FM, mild bd, toys)
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“Good Neighbor”         (FM, FM, mild bd, toys)
by Jean-Marc Conier       4200 words

This work is copyright 1998 by Jean-Marc Conier who retains all
commercial rights. This work may be distributed free of charge provided
all text including this paragraph is left intact. Archival is permitted
provided access to the archive is available free of charge. All other
use, including archive in any form that requires a membership in an age
verification service is prohibited without written consent of the
author.


Prologue:  It’s been said that the true test of a good friend is the
housekey test. Ask yourself if you would feel comfortable giving your
friend a key to your house. If you wouldn’t, get a new friend....



“How’s that, honey? Is it too tight?”

“No, it’s fine.” I tugged at the soft ties restraining my arms. Of
course they weren’t really ties. Well, one was. An ugly polyester number
that was supposed to be Santa Claus but somehow resembled Elvis more
than St. Nick. Restraining my left arm was the belt off my old bathrobe.

Denise and I were novices when it came to this sort of thing. The first
time I tied her up her circulation got cut off to one arm. Just as I
started pulling out the ice cubes for my Mickey Rourke impression her
whole arm went numb and she panicked. She thrashed around so much she
pulled a muscle in her back and spent the next two days in bed.

It took about three months before we tried again, and she decided it
would be best if she was in control. I didn’t have a problem with that,
and I haven’t since. But somehow we’ve never got up the nerve to go buy
any ‘real’ equipment.

Looping pantyhose around each ankle, my wife spread my legs apart and
cinched them down to the corners of the bed. She looked up at me with a
smug grin.

“I’ve got a lot planned for you tonight, honey.” 

“Oh, really? Like what?” I tugged lightly with each limb, testing my
bonds. They were more secure than usual.

“You’ll see... I wonder what I might have for you in this bag...” She
lifted a shopping bag onto the bed, pulled the handles apart and reached
inside.

Her hand disappeared deep into the bag then came back out slowly. Her
fingertips held the end of what appeared to be a shiny black dildo. She
pulled it out of the bag inch by inch. I kept expecting to see the end,
but it grew and grew.

“You can’t be serious,” I said as she laid the monster dildo on the bed
next to me.

Her eyes met mine and she picked up the plastic cock. Holding my gaze
she brought it to her lips. Her tongue reached out to wet the tip and
she opened her mouth to receive it.

Suddenly she started giggling and dropped the dildo.

“If you could see the look on your face, honey!” She continued laughing
as I squirmed on the bed. Her hand came to rest on my thigh as she tried
to regain her composure.

“That’s not funny, dear.”

“Aw, what’s the matter sweetie?” She picked up the dildo and held it,
the head resting against my stomach. She trailed it down over my crotch,
the cool plastic sending shivers through me as the head passed over the
length of my cock and across my balls.

“Does this frighten you?” she asked, without looking up at me, her eyes
watching the dildo slide under my balls, watching my legs tremble as a
thought flashed through my mind that she might actually be serious.

I closed my eyes tightly, knowing I should trust my wife but terrified
at the same time. My breathing was shallow and time seemed to stretch.
Then I felt the plastic pull away for a moment. I started to open my
eyes, but thought better of it when I felt Denise’s fingers lifting my
balls. A few seconds later I felt cold goop between my cheeks, then
light pressure at my rosebud. I squeezed my eyes tighter and turned my
head away from her, as though hiding my face would hide my ass from the
cock she intended to use on me. A dozen images went through my mind as
the pressure grew on my asshole. I wanted to cry out. I wanted to beg
her to stop. I wanted to run away. Then I felt her fingers gently grasp
the head of my cock and I realized I was hard. Rock hard.

Her fingers lightly tapped up and down my shaft, dancing from the head
to the root. Then, suddenly the pressure stabilized on my ass and I felt
the friction of the monster cock burying itself inside me. I felt so
full I thought I would burst. I was in agony. But it was strangely
pleasurable at the same time. The pressure inside me forced my cock to
grow larger and my wife’s fingers felt like needles on its head. The
pleasure was excruciating. I felt the bed shift and Denise began licking
the head of my dick. Long, slow circles around the glans.

She started working the dildo inside me back and forth, just an inch or
so at a time. I felt woozy. My senses were in overload. I felt an orgasm
approaching. I wanted to scream, to yell, anything to let my wife know
how good I felt at that moment.

Then, she stopped. My cock twitched in the empty air. Denise eased the
monster dildo out of my ass. It hurt a little as the last of it came out
of me. I clenched my ass a couple times, testing to see if it would ever
close again.

“Well, that’s enough with the small one I think,” she said.

I opened my eyes in disbelief. Small one? I turned to see her holding a
pink dildo slathered with K-Y. The black one lay beside me on the bed,
dry as a bone.

“Are you ready for the big one now, stud?”

I realized the dildo in her hand couldn’t be more than five inches long,
the same size as my own cock, now shrinking and leaking pre-cum onto my
leg. What felt like a fist inside me was smaller than my own equipment.
I shuddered, then saw the sly grin on my wife’s face.

“You really thought I was using the big one, didn’t you?” She chuckled.
“You thought you were getting it good.” 

I didn’t know what to say. ‘I love you’ didn’t seem appropriate, though
it definitely came to mind at that moment.

“Hey, lighten up sweetie. You’re all tense!” Her hands reached up to
mine and she pried my fingers apart. They’d been clenched in fists and I
hadn’t even noticed. “I think you need some time to cool off. I might
leave you here and go run an errand or two...”

“Dear! Don’t leave me like this!” I tugged at my bonds, struggling on
the bed, but they held tight.

“Oh, don’t worry sweetie. I won’t leave you alone. I’ll leave you with
some company.” With that she rummaged in her bag and pulled out a
videotape. I watched her walk over to the TV and start up the VCR. The
screen blurred as she fastforwarded through the phone sex ads and FBI
warning. Then the title came up: Pussyeaters 7.

She turned back to me. “I think you’ll like it sweetie. An hour and a
half of oral sex. Your favorite... Well, actually my favorite but I
doubt you’ll complain.”

The action onscreen started up and she turned the volume down a little.
“Wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors while I’m gone, would I?”

“You’re really leaving me like this?” I looked from arm to arm,
struggling to get free. “C’mon dear, you can’t just leave!”

“Watch me honey,” she said with a smile, then added “or watch the tv.
You just might learn something. In fact I hope you will.” She walked out
of the bedroom and closed the door behind her. I waited for her to come
back, but the only sound was the quiet moans coming from the tv. Then I
heard her car start and she drove away.

My hardon returned as I watched the procession of gorgeous women faking
orgasms onscreen. Blondes, brunettes, more blondes, the occasional
redhead. Each taking her turn spread wide for the camera. After three or
four scenes, they started to get really repetitive. And without the
ability to jerk off, the tape was more frustrating than pleasurable.

About a half hour into my ordeal the phone rang. I thought it might be
Denise, testing to see if I had gotten free. The machine in the living
room picked up on the fourth ring. I strained to hear who it was over
the television but all I could tell was that the voice was female.
Whoever it was left a long message before hanging up.

The tape grew more and more frustrating and I tried to tune it out.
Closing my eyes I slowly drifted off, the moans and grunts sounding more
like white noise after a while. I suppose I slept for fifteen or twenty
minutes before the knock at the front door woke me up.

I awoke to the sound of snow from the television and looked around
somewhat bleary-eyed. I started to roll over until the hose looped
around my ankles reasserted itself. It took the third or fourth knock
before I realized someone was at the door.

Jingling of metal reached my ears, telling me Denise had found her keys
after all and was letting herself in. Perhaps she was testing to see if
I had gotten loose. I flopped a little on the bed until I thought I
looked dead to the world, closed my eyes and waited for her to surprise
me.

“..nise!? You’re not gonna be..... ...at prick did!”

I couldn’t make out all the words but I recognized enough to know our
next door neighbor, Laura. Panic swept through me. Part of me wanted to
call out to her that Denise wasn’t here. Part of me wanted to stay quiet
and hope she went away. 

“I spend two hours get........ and then he just..... Oh I could just
kill him. Doesn’t he......... what a girl......”

I heard her coming down the hall towards the bedroom and I looked back
at the tv. Surely she could hear it and assumed Denise had fallen asleep
watching a movie. I scrambled to come up with something to yell to her
but my voice abandoned me. I watched the doorknob twist as though in
slow motion. The door opened and the whole world stopped.

I know from the look in Laura’s eyes I must have been quite a sight,
naked and spread-eagled, tied to the bed with pantyhose and bathrobe
belt. Time seemed frozen as I saw her eyes go wide.

In a split-second my embarrassment went to confusion as I took in
Laura’s attire. From the neck down she looked just as she always seemed
to, a little frumpy, very girl-next-door. She wore white Keds and gray
sweatpants, with an oversized T-shirt depicting three kittens staring
down at a goldfish in its bowl. From the neck down, she was ready for
laundry day, gardening, soccer practice or spring cleaning. From the
neck up she was an entirely different person.

Her skin looked flawless, the kind of skin models dream about, and
without the telltale sheen from makeup. The curves of her lips were
perfect, no smudge, no smear, full without seeming garish. Her
cheekbones sat high and soft. Her eyes were positively vibrant, with
full lashes and doe-like innocence. Her hair looked as if she had
stepped out of a painting. Over her arm was a black evening dress,
hanging lifeless like a dead fish waiting to be fried.

The pieces fit together neatly in my mind and I realized why she seemed
angry. Part of me felt like I owed it to my gender to hide...

Less than a second had passed. Long enough for her situation to be
clear, but she was at a loss for mine. Her face was flushed as she
stammered an apology, her eyes cast downward, but always keeping me in
view.

“I’msorryIthoughtDenisewas..” She began.

“It’salright.It’snotyourfault.Youcouldn’t..” I interrupted.

“NoIshouldhaveknocked.Ishouldn’thavejustbarged” She continued.

“It’salright.Noproblem.Deniseshouldbe..” I interrupted once more.

“Look.I.Geez....” She turned her head, as though realizing for the first
time that I was naked.

“Denise will be back in a little while. I’ll let her know you stopped
by.” I stared at the back of her head expecting an answer but instead
she just trembled softly. She sat down gently on the side of the bed,
facing away from me. A couple quiet breaths told me Laura was crying. 
“Laura? You okay?”

“I’m sorry, I just....” she paused to sniff, “... it’s so frustrating,
you know? I finally decide to take the time.... and make myself
pretty... and he stands me up. He’s asked me a dozen times... to dress
up for a date.... and the one time I do...” Laura continued sobbing
quietly and I felt about three inches tall.

“I don’t know what to say...,” I tried. The words were as true as could
be. I really didn’t know what to say. Perhaps there’s a chapter in Miss
Manners for such a situation, but I never saw the ‘Tied up naked talking
to a neighbor who’s just been treated like shit’ section. “I’m sorry,
Laura.”

Sometimes the simplest answer is the best. And my apology on behalf of
men everywhere seemed to do the trick. Laura continued to cry for a
while longer, but they were productive tears. The anger and frustration
were being cleared from her system.

After a couple minutes she stopped sobbing and shot a quick glance over
her shoulder at me, as though to confirm that I was still there. Yeah,
like I was really going to be going anywhere. A second or two later she
looked again and hesitated before turning away. I suddenly felt quite
vulnerable.

A small giggle escaped her and she asked, “So what are you doing tied up
like that anyway?” She looked down at my legs. “Did you tie yourself
up?” Her gaze panned up my legs to my waist, froze for a moment, then
returned to the door. 

“Um, Denise and I were... um...” The words refused to come out. I was
feeling more and more like a schoolboy standing in front of the class
talking about what I did all summer.

“Were, um, what?” I could hear the smile in her voice, though of course
I couldn’t see it. She was enjoying this!

“We were... um... in the middle of something and,” I started.

“Yes I can tell you were in the middle of something.” She interrupted. 
“That’s pretty obvious. But where is your better half? Were you a bad
boy and she left you here to suffer?”

The tone in her voice was bordering on wicked. I flexed my arms a little
bit, hoping the ties might be looser now. But, they were as tight as
ever. I really didn’t know how to answer her.

“Um... I guess so...” I feebly attempted.

“Well, then I guess you’re a captive audience for me.” She stood up and
started walking towards the master bathroom. “Since I didn’t get to see
what my outfit would do to Andy, I’ll just see what it does to you. Be
out in a few minutes.” She closed the door behind her.

The moment the door closed, I struggled with my bonds. The pantyhose
around my left leg seemed loose, and after a minute or so I twisted my
foot out of one loop. But the knot was still fast, and my arms weren’t
coming free any time soon. I began to pray that Denise would return,
though I wasn’t sure how she would react to Laura. Normally I would have
killed for a chance with Laura, but this was so bizarre I couldn’t
relax.

The television continued its background snow, masking the sounds from
the bathroom. I heard the water run a couple times, but nothing that
would give me a clue as to Laura’s plan. She probably didn’t have a
plan.

The door finally opened and a woman came out. Part of me knew it must be
Laura. But most of my mind could not believe that the woman turning to
walk towards me was my neighbor. If it were possible, she looked better
from the neck down than from the neck up. The dress seemed painted on
her, yet moved like liquid silk as she stepped. She seemed to walk in
slow motion, her hair blowing in a breeze that wasn’t there, her face
lit by a sun that had set an hour before.

In less than a second my mind had compared the vision before me to every
woman I had ever seen, and I could not recall such a beautiful woman.
Perhaps my impression was colored by my situation. But the curves under
that dress were the kind that corsets struggle to create. And she walked
like she owned the world.

She paused after three or four steps and turned toward the television.
“Let’s turn this off shall we?” she asked no one in particular, and the
television winked off, as my eyes traced a profile to rival the statues
in Greece.

She turned to me again, unabashed staring at my naked body as I stared
at hers. She stood between my legs, inches from my bound feet, and
looked down at my cock. Her lips parted a fraction and her eyes half
closed as she took in a deep breath. My semihard cock rose straight for
the sky in response.

A smirk came to her lips as she opened her eyes wide and met my gaze for
the first time. “Now that’s the reaction I expected this outfit to
generate,” she said smugly.

The images racing through my mind paused long enough for me to utter one
word. “Wow.”

A soft giggle escaped her lips as she rest her hands firmly on my
thighs. I was staring down the front of her dress, marveling at my good
fortune, thanking gods from several religions, praying that I could live
just a few minutes more, when she spoke again.

“You know, I never really thought of you as attractive,” she said. My
cock deflated in reply. “I always thought you were kind of a geek
really. Not my type at all. I normally go for the dickhead type. The
drunk jerk who thinks he runs the world and usually can’t find my clit
to save his life.”

I couldn’t figure out where this was headed. Moments before, I thought I
was in heaven. Now it seemed like a bad SNL skit.

“Denise always said you were good in bed,” she continued. Denise? What?
We had always been fairly open about our lives, but I didn’t think she
was telling the neighbors. I felt a little hurt, then I realized Denise
had been complimenting me and I didn’t know how to feel.

“But I never considered sleeping with you, not even briefly,” she said.
Oh great, I thought. Any chance I had was gone. Now I just naked and
being tormented by my gorgeous next-door neighbor.

“Until now,” she finished.

The spinning gears in my head locked up, and my brain froze. I didn’t
even really process the words for a moment. Just when I started to, I
felt Laura’s tongue lapping gently at my balls. My whole body shook as
my senses went into overload. Her hair spilled over my crotch as her
hands came up to cup my balls. Her tongue traced a steady path up
between my balls to the base of my shaft, then up the shaft itself.
Higher. Higher. Then rushing over the tip in quick swirls around the
head.

My cock swelled in the warmth of her mouth, bouncing with each heartbeat
between her teeth. Her lips felt like wet velvet sliding over my shaft
as she fucked me with her mouth. Up and down, in long strokes. Her
tongue flicked back and forth across the underside of my cock with each
one. Then she paused with just the head in her mouth and gently sucked,
pulling more blood from my brain to my groin. I felt woozy, out of
control. My legs were so tense they began to quiver.

Then Laura released my cock from her mouth, making a soft pop as empty
air filled the space my manhood had left. The head twitched in front of
her lips as my body spasmed with need. I wanted to come. I ached to
come. I needed to come. And she knew it. But she was going to make me
wait a bit longer.

She removed her hands from my balls and hoisted herself onto the bed,
kneeling between my legs. She looked down at the hem of her dress, then
took it in her fingertips and slowly pulled it up until I could see
almost to heaven. I looked up to find her staring into my eyes, watching
me watch her. She leaned to one side and raised her knee over mine, then
completed the straddle, letting her dress fall over my crotch. The soft
fabric seemed like feathers tickling the head of my cock.

Laura reached one hand under the fabric and took hold of my shaft. Her
eyes locked with mine as she pumped me slowly up and down, just a few
strokes, just enough to tease. She bent my cock down and I felt the
rough wetness of her matted pussy hair against my head. She worked it
gently side to side, letting it sink into the furrow of her cunt.

Her eyes never left mine as she shifted her body forward a couple inches
to line me up. The underside of my head settled into her wetness for a
moment, then returned to its task, spreading her juices all over. I
yearned to watch, wanted so bad to see. But all I could do was feel and
imagine. Laura raised herself ever so slightly and gripped my shaft
firmly, then settled her weight full onto me, impaling herself on my
cock.

She grunted as my cock hit her cervix, the first time she seemed to lose
her composure. She raised up again slowly, then back down, moaning
softly with each stroke. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back as she
built a rhythm. After a few seconds her eyes opened again and we locked
our gaze. She seemed to read my mind as she rested one hand on my chest
to balance herself. Her other hand went to the fabric pooled on my
belly. She took it in her hand and raised it to her breast, exposing our
coupling to my eyes.

I tried not to look. I tried to keep up the stare. Tried to look as deep
into her soul as she was looking into mine. But I couldn’t resist. I had
to watch. I had to see.

I looked down and saw my cock. Swollen and coated in her juices. Sliding
effortlessly in and out, between her lips. Plunging deep inside of her
again and again. The watching made it harder. The watching made it
faster. I raised my ass to meet her with each stroke, straining to get
more leverage, more penetration.

Seconds before I was going to come, she dropped the hem and her hand
flew down to balance herself. Her whole body was trembling and shaking.
She closed her eyes and bit down on her lower lip, muffling a squeal. We
abandoned all rhythm and she quivered atop my cock, lost in her orgasm.

I was so close, but her tremors did not trigger my own. She rested in
that position, balanced against my chest, my throbbing cock inside her,
for a few seconds before dismounting. To my surprise she rolled onto her
side and took my cock back into her mouth. She pumped hard and fast with
her hand as her tongue swirled round and round the head. In seconds I
was at the brink and warned her I was gonna come.

She responded by taking my cock deep in her mouth, scratching my balls
with her fingernails as she sucked and licked up and down. My eyes
closed, my whole body tensed and I babbled incoherently as the come
started to spurt. Laura held my shaft in her hand and sucked on the head
of my cock, licking back and forth across the head. It was so intense it
was almost painful. After a few spurts I begged her to stop. It was just
too much. She continued for a few seconds more, torturing me, then
released her grip, satisfied I was done.

When I opened my eyes she was standing at the foot of the bed with a
smug grin. Her makeup was a disaster and the dress would never look the
same. I looked down at myself to find she hadn’t spilled a drop, though
I was covered in sweat. The next thing I knew she was at the door,
wishing me good night, leaving me tied to the bed.

“See you later. Hope Denise doesn’t make you wait too long,” she said as
she walked out the door.

I called out to her, “Laura! Um.... I....” I didn’t know what to say. So
I said nothing. The front door closed and I was alone again.



I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I heard was Denise’s
voice from the living room.

“Honey? You awake in there?”

Groggily I opened my eyes as she opened the door and turned on the
light. I squinted in her direction trying to get my senses back.

“Did you enjoy the video, sweetie?” She asked as she walked over to the
television. “Guess it’s time to turn this thing off, huh?”

The sudden quiet startled me. I started to say something but she
interrupted. “Oh, honey! I see you did have a good time while I was
out!” My vision returned and I saw that my belly was covered in come.

“So what did you dream about, sweetie?”


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