What My Neighbor Ordered Me to Do That Afternoon

That afternoon I was coming back from grocery shopping, just like any other Thursday. I got into the elevator carrying bags, and when I looked down, I saw it: three drops of blood on the aluminum floor, still glistening. I froze, staring at them, with a strange knot in my stomach.

My imagination ran wild. I thought of an injured neighbor, a fight, some accident I hadn’t heard. The elevator rose slowly while I kept following the trail of drops with my eyes, unable to look away.

When the doors opened on my floor, the trail continued across the landing to the door opposite mine. That was where Renata lived, a woman quite a bit older than me, alone for as long as I could remember. I stopped in front of her door, the bags weighing down my hands, hesitating over whether to knock.

I didn’t dare. I went into my apartment, set the groceries on the counter, and poured myself a glass of water that I never managed to drink. I couldn’t stop thinking about those drops disappearing under her door. What if something had happened to her? What if she was alone and needed help?

Ten minutes later I was back on the landing, ringing her bell.

She took a while to open. When she did, she barely showed her face through the crack.

“Hi, Renata. Sorry to bother you,” I said, noticing my voice catching. “I saw some drops of blood leading to your door and I got worried. Is everything okay?”

She opened a little wider and I lowered my gaze without meaning to. Her jeans had a dark, unmistakable stain at the crotch. I felt absurd relief and, at the same time, a shame that climbed up my neck.

“It’s nothing, neighbor,” she said, with a calm that didn’t fit the situation. “It’s what happens to women every month. When I feel better I’ll go out and clean it up.”

“Don’t worry about that. If you want, I can do it. I’ll get the mop and…”

“Leave it, please. It embarrasses me for you to clean it.”

“It doesn’t bother me at all,” I insisted. “You’re in no condition to be bending over.”

She looked at me a moment longer than necessary. Something in her eyes changed, a spark I couldn’t interpret then.

“All right,” she conceded. “But come in and use mine. I don’t want you dirtying yours with this.”

***

I followed her inside. The apartment smelled of tobacco and something floral, heavy. She pointed to a cabinet beside the kitchen and disappeared down the hall.

“I’m going to change while you do that,” she said from her bedroom door. “I’m soaked.”

I cleaned the landing and the bit of kitchen where it had dripped, wrung out the mop, and went back in. I found her seated in an armchair, in a light dress, lighting a cigarette. The flame lit her fingers for an instant before the first drag came slowly from her lips.

I stood rooted to the spot. I don’t know if she noticed, but seeing a woman smoke had always been what turned me on most, a fetish I had never confessed to anyone. The way her lips closed around the filter, the smoke curling toward the ceiling, all of it hit me at once and I felt my cock begin to swell inside my pants.

“That was kind of you,” she said, taking another drag. “Sit down for a moment, go on.”

I sat down opposite her. As she crossed her legs, the dress rode up enough to reveal the edge of her panties, already stained dark red at the crotch. I looked away, but it was too late: the excitement was growing and I was afraid the bulge pressing against the fabric would show.

“My periods are very heavy,” she commented as if it were nothing, flicking ash into an ashtray. “And I’m irregular, I never know when it’s going to come. Sometimes I wake up with my cunt dripping and the sheets a mess.”

She spoke about it with a naturalness that disarmed me. My gaze jumped from her mouth to the cigarette, from the cigarette to her parted thighs. I swallowed.

“Sorry,” she said suddenly, frowning. “Would you mind coming with me to the bathroom? I think it’s starting again and I don’t want to make a mess everywhere.”

“Of course,” I answered, standing up too quickly.

I took her by the waist to help her. We walked slowly, but even so a couple of drops fell onto the hallway floor. I left her leaning on the sink and went back for the mop.

***

I bent down in front of the drops, rag in hand, and then something happened that I still can’t explain. Knowing she was inside the bathroom, out of my sight, I brought one finger to one of those drops. I touched it. It was warm. I brought it first to my nose and inhaled that smell of iron and woman, and then, without thinking, to my mouth.

My heart slammed in my chest. Something woke inside me, a current that shot straight down to my cock and made it harden completely against the fabric of my pants. I picked up another drop, and another, taking them to my lips like a secret I had never known I kept, while my dick throbbed, begging for more.

“Adrián, can you come here a moment?” her voice came from the bathroom.

I jerked upright, my face burning. I went over to the half-open door.

“I’m really embarrassed to ask you,” she said, “but could you bring me a tampon from my bag? I’ve run out in here.”

I searched her bag until I found one. As I walked back, I was thinking about how I’d hand it to her without making the situation even more awkward than it already was.

“Come in, I don’t mind,” she said from inside. “Give it to me.”

I pushed the door open. She was sitting on the toilet, legs apart, watching me with a serenity that raised goosebumps on my skin. Between her thighs I saw the swollen, shiny cunt, with a red thread running down the inside of her thigh. When I bent to hand her the tampon, her hand rose toward my face.

“You’ve got some on you, let me clean you,” she murmured, brushing my lip. “Did you like it?”

I didn’t know what to answer. I stood mute while she moistened her fingers with saliva and ran them across my mouth, slowly, cleaning away the traces I had carried from the hallway. Shame paralyzed me, but I didn’t pull away. My cock was throbbing so hard it hurt.

“Do you want a little more?” she asked, tilting her head.

I kept silent. Then she slid two fingers between her legs, sank them slowly into her soaked cunt, and pulled them out dripping, red up to the knuckles. She brought them to my lips.

“This is hotter. Here.”

She pushed them into my mouth and, not really understanding what was happening to me, I sucked them clean, all the way to the base, my tongue tracing every crease between her fingers, tasting that thick, metallic liquid that tasted like her. A jolt ran through me and my cock gave a brutal tug inside my pants.

“That’s it,” she whispered. “Suck nicely, don’t leave a single drop. I’ve got much more for you, baby. Much more.”

She said it with such calm authority that my legs obeyed before my head did. I knelt on the bathroom floor in front of her, mouth open and chin already stained.

“Is it good?” she asked, dipping her fingers in again and offering them to me.

“Yes,” I admitted in a thin voice, sucking nonstop. “It’s delicious.”

“I always dreamed of finding a man who would share this with me,” she said, and for the first time her voice trembled with something like desire. “A man who’d get hard over my blood, who’d eat my cunt while I’m on my period and not be disgusted. Come closer. I want you to eat me out properly.”

***

I obeyed without questioning anything. I laid my face between her open thighs and looked up at her, completely surrendered. Her hand settled on the back of my neck, firm, and she pushed me against her cunt without mercy. My tongue sank between her swollen lips and I immediately tasted the hot, thick flavor, bouncing against my palate.

“That’s it, my love,” she gasped. “Take it all the way in. Suck me like it’s the last thing you’re ever going to taste.”

I licked her from top to bottom, finding the clit with the tip of my tongue and then going down to the entrance of her cunt, from which warm blood flowed every time she squeezed her thighs. I slurped her like I was drinking from a fountain, swallowing every drop, rubbing my nose against her wet pubic hair. She started moving her hips against my mouth, riding my face.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked, yanking my hair back to look at my face smeared red.

I didn’t answer. There was no need. The pressure of her hand on my head was an order, not a question, and I only knew how to obey it. When she pulled me back in again, I opened my mouth because it was the only thing I could do, and she ground her cunt against my lips from side to side, smearing me all the way to my cheeks.

“Drink it,” she said. “Don’t let a single drop go to waste. Swallow, baby, swallow.”

I did. It was thick, with an intense metallic taste that I mixed with my own saliva so it would last longer on my tongue. Renata held my head with one hand and with the other lit another cigarette, looking down at me with a smile that said everything: she was the one in charge there. I, kneeling with my chin dripping, kept eating her cunt while she took calm drags, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to have a neighbor on his knees eating her period.

“Put your tongue deep inside,” she ordered, parting her cunt lips with two fingers. “Get it all out. I want to feel you cleaning me inside.”

I sank my tongue in as far as I could, giving long licks, feeling how her cunt tightened against my face every time I reached the bottom. I sucked her clit between my lips and she arched her back with a rough moan, blowing smoke through her nose.

“Fuck, you do that so well,” she panted. “When you finish, I want you to clean me really well. Inside and out. Not a single drop outside your mouth.”

She pulled me away with a soft tug and stood up from the toilet. She looked me over, gauging how far I would go, and smiled when she saw the rock-hard bulge straining my pants.

“Take my clothes off. I don’t want to stain them any more. And take your pants off too, I can see how hard you are.”

From where I was on the floor I carefully lifted her dress, my hands clumsy with pure arousal. I unhooked her bra and her tits dropped heavy in front of my face, nipples dark and erect. I yanked down my pants and underwear; my cock sprang free, so swollen the tip was already leaking. When she stood naked in front of me, she pointed at the tiles.

“Lie down. It’s the only way you’re going to clean me the way I want.”

I lay back on the cold tiles. She placed one leg on either side of my body and bent her knees until she was suspended over my face. She lowered herself slowly, rubbing her open cunt against my mouth, and I licked up everything I could while feeling her move above me. Blood ran down my cheeks, into the corners of my mouth, and I swallowed without stopping.

“Like that, suck me well,” she moaned, grabbing my hair. “Put your whole tongue in, clean me inside.”

She started riding my face harder, grinding forward and back, leaving her clit right against the tip of my tongue. Every time she squeezed her thighs against my ears, a warm gush filled my mouth and I swallowed it, dizzy with pleasure, my cock jerking in the air.

“Please,” I gasped when I could, “I can’t breathe.”

“I know,” she said, not moving. “Open wide and hold out a little longer.”

She rose just enough to let me catch my breath and lowered herself again. From below, she looked to me like she owned everything, smoking calmly, her tits moving with each sway, letting the smoke drift over my blood-smeared face while I stayed beneath her, obedient, my face soaked in blood and saliva.

“You drive me crazy like this,” she murmured, looking down between her legs at my face buried in her cunt. “It’s hard to find someone who enjoys it as much as I do. Lick my ass too, go on. Run your tongue over there.”

She leaned a little forward and I licked her asshole, going slowly up from her cunt to her ass and back down, tracing everything in one long stroke. She shivered over me, pressing her thighs against my ears.

She sat up for a moment and I feared it was over. It wasn’t.

“Did you think that was it?” she laughed softly. “I only went to get another cigarette. You’ve still got work to do.”

She turned toward me, now facing me, so I could look at her while she smoked. She lowered herself again and placed her cunt right over my mouth, looking me in the eyes. The taste in my mouth and the smoke drifting down from her lips were, together, everything my body had always wanted without daring to name it. My cock throbbed ready to explode, even though no one was touching it.

“Open,” she said, the cigarette between her fingers.

She dropped ash onto my tongue and then a thread of saliva that mixed with the blood in my mouth. The humiliation burned my cheeks and, even so, I had never been harder. A moan slipped out of me and she noticed.

“Look at you,” she said, pleased, spitting into my mouth again. “With your face full of my blood and your cock dripping without anyone even touching it. You’d do anything I asked, wouldn’t you, piggy?”

“Yes,” I moaned, tongue out. “Anything.”

And it was true. She bent down a little, spat directly onto my cock, and with her own blood-smeared hand she grabbed it, rubbing that mixture all over the head. Three or four shakes were enough for me to come in a brutal spasm, blasting streams of semen that landed on her wrist and tits. She ran a finger over her chest, brought it to her mouth, and smiled at me while she sucked it, mixing my cum with her own taste.

“You’ve had enough for now,” she concluded at last, putting out the cigarette. “Clean me well and we’re done.”

I ran my tongue over her bloodstained thighs and everything she offered me, licking until she was clean. I passed my tongue over the folds of her cunt, over the inner sides of her thighs, even over the dried trail that ran down to her knee. When I thought I was finished, she checked with a piece of paper to make sure it was true.

“Incredible,” she said. “You did it all. Not a single drop left. Get up and come with me.”

***

I followed her to the living room, still naked, my cock wet and the taste of iron embedded in my tongue. She sat down, lit one last cigarette, and watched me catch my breath, still kneeling at her feet, looking up at her like a dog.

“Come back when I start again,” she said, as if setting a date, stroking my cheek with the tip of her foot. “Now put the tampon in for me. I’m not wasting a single drop that isn’t for you.”

I nodded. Since that Thursday, every time the elevator smells faintly warm and metallic, I know exactly which door I have to knock on.