The Neighbors at 207 Invited Me to More Than Punch

My name is Tomás, I’m 30 years old, and I live in Concepción, a noisy city that tightens your back without you even noticing. I’m slim, I do weekend cycling, with light brown hair and dark eyes. I work programming from home, which means I spend many more hours alone with my own head than I should.

Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve used sex as a release valve. Long afternoons locked away watching all kinds of bodies, all kinds of ages, all kinds of combinations. I questioned myself a thousand times about what I was. It wasn’t men or women that turned me on: it was drunkenness, frenzy, horniness. I learned young that what got me hard didn’t fit into any box.

In a country like ours, prejudice weighs heavy. I never dared take any of that outside the screen, until what happened that September in the alley.

I’d moved a month earlier to a lane in San Pedro de la Paz with two friends. Good neighborhood, active community life, lots of weekend barbecues. The national holidays arrived and the alley organized a food competition between houses. Since I was new, I wanted to score points with the neighbors and signed up. I was assigned to prepare the peach punch together with house 207.

I didn’t know those neighbors even by sight. On a Saturday in mid-afternoon, with the sun still warm and hinting at spring, I crossed the alley and rang the bell at 207. It took a while for the door to open. Behind it appeared a woman in her sixties, short white hair, not very tall, with a pair of huge, sagging breasts that showed even under a loose cotton blouse.

—Good afternoon. I’m Tomás, the new neighbor. I’m supposed to work with you on the punch.

—Come in, Tomás. They told me you’d be coming. I’m Hilda. We were just about to have afternoon tea with my husband. Join us.

I went in. The table was set with homemade bread and jam. At the head of it was Eduardo, tall, lanky, with neatly combed white hair, around sixty-five. He gestured for me to sit down.

We started talking about trivial things: the neighborhood, my job, their children —two, both grown—, the grandchildren —four, all on their daughter’s side—. Two hours went by without my noticing. When they offered for me to stay and taste a wine Eduardo had saved for the punch, I said yes without thinking. Hilda brought glasses. Eduardo uncorked the bottle. And before long we were on the second.

At the third, Hilda got up to fetch another. From the kitchen came a sharp burst of breaking glass. I stood up quickly. The bottle had shattered on the floor, and the wine was drawing a large stain across the tiles. Hilda was already crouched with a cloth when I got there. I knelt down beside her.

Her blouse had opened in front as she scrubbed the floor. I saw her braless breasts, two enormous weights swaying with every movement of her arm. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I was hard within seconds. I kept cleaning as if nothing were happening, with my underwear soaked in something that wasn’t wine.

When we finished, I straightened up thinking I’d leave as soon as possible so I could lock myself away and relieve myself alone. Eduardo beat me to it.

—Don’t go yet. One last drink in the living room, with music. I’ve got a new record you’re going to like.

I agreed. I sat in the armchair facing the sofa. Eduardo put on a Pink Floyd record. I, trying to bring my pulse down, took a marijuana cigarette out of my pocket that I’d brought for later and held it up like an offering.

—I hope you don’t mind.

—Smells good, said Eduardo, smiling. —We haven’t smoked in years. Hilda, come here, look what the neighbor brought.

Hilda sat down next to Eduardo on the sofa. I lit the cigarette while The Great Gig in the Sky played. I took a long drag and passed it over. The two of them rotated it between them. The room filled with smoke and that overflowing voice in the background.

They stayed silent for a few seconds, looking at each other. Something shifted in the air. Eduardo took Hilda’s face in both hands and kissed her. It wasn’t a long-married kiss. It was a wet kiss, tongue out, with no shame that I was there. I saw Eduardo’s bulge take shape in his pants. I saw Hilda’s nipples stiffen through the fabric of her blouse.

Something, I don’t know what, had fused the wine, the music, and the cigarette into one single thing. And I had front-row seats.

I didn’t think. I pulled down my zipper, took out my cock, and started jerking off while watching them. I did it without any discretion, as if I’d been alone in my room. Eduardo broke away from Hilda, looked at me, and let out a low laugh.

—Look at this one, love. The neighbor is jerking off with us on display. What a pervert. Should we teach him a lesson?

—Are you sure, Eduardo? Mind you, I can get carried away —she answered, with a voice roughened by smoke.

Hilda stood up, crossed the rug, and knelt in front of me. She grabbed my cock with both hands. She started licking it from the base to the tip, slowly, gathering with her tongue the liquid that was already leaking on its own. Then she took my balls into her mouth, one and then the other, and moved back up. I could feel her tongue, the slightest touch of teeth, her warm breathing. I couldn’t move.

On the sofa, Eduardo had unfastened his pants and was taking his clothes off calmly. He had a hard cock, long, veined. Hilda, without letting go of me, unbuttoned her blouse with one hand. Her two tits fell out, huge, with pink areolas that seemed to be looking at me. It was a quantity of flesh hard to take in at a glance.

I didn’t even last five minutes. Without warning I came into her mouth. I felt the first spurt and then the second, hard, without stopping. Hilda didn’t pull away. She kept sucking with her eyes closed, as if she were milking me. I glanced at Eduardo, not knowing what to do.

Eduardo moved closer. He didn’t say a word. He took Hilda by the nape, lifted her face, and slid his tongue into her mouth. He kissed her with my cum still on their lips. I saw them pass it back and forth between them. I saw Eduardo looking for the drops Hilda had left at the corner of her mouth. I saw Hilda giving him back saliva mixed with me. They weren’t acting.

Something broke. I don’t know at what moment, but I knelt between the two of them.

***

I was hard again as if I’d never finished. The smell of my own semen in their mouths left me without filters. I joined the kiss. My tongue, Hilda’s, Eduardo’s, all three together in the middle of the rug. The three of us finished undressing, no rush, while the B-side of the record kept playing.

Hilda stood up. She grabbed one of her tits with both hands and started licking her own nipple. Eduardo went for the other breast and took it fully into his mouth. I spread her legs. She had white hair between her thighs and a shiny thread running down to her knee. I lunged to drink there, working my way up slowly. I found her with my tongue. Hilda cried out. I worked her clit until she stopped crying out and started trembling. The leg she had over my shoulder fell down. She had to kneel to keep from toppling over.

Eduardo arranged her sideways on the rug. Her tits flattened against the floor. I, almost without thinking, positioned myself at the level of her chest and started sliding my cock between her two breasts. She was squeezing them against me herself. Eduardo, from behind, opened her legs and slid into her cunt in one go. Hilda let out a moan that seemed to split the room in two.

—I want the neighbor’s cock between my tits all week —she said, looking at Eduardo.

—Whatever you want, love.

—Then give me the back too. You.

Eduardo switched holes without saying a word. He lubed her first with his own fingers, slowly, and then started fucking her carefully. Hilda squeezed her eyelids shut. She clutched her own tits and started jerking me off with them, hard, against my cock. Eduardo increased his thrusts from behind. The two of them started moaning at the same time. I saw him when he came inside her. I came half a second later, over the warm skin of her breasts.

Eduardo and I looked at each other. And I don’t know who started it, but we ended up kissing over Hilda’s body. Then I went down to where he had come. I drank from there with my tongue, shamelessly. He went back to his wife’s tits and swallowed what was mine. Hilda watched us from below, with a smile I hadn’t seen on her all afternoon. Then we kissed her both of us again, with all of that between us.

Two minutes later we were hard again.

Hilda made us stand in front of her face, both of us on our feet, the two cocks together. She grabbed them both at the same time with both hands. I felt Eduardo’s cock rubbing against mine, slick, throbbing. She jerked us off together with a strange technique, as if she’d been practicing it for years. Eduardo and I started kissing too, spitting saliva into each other’s mouths. Her hands slid down my back, squeezed my ass. She put one finger in my mouth first, wet it well, and then slid it in back with patience. I didn’t resist.

Hilda ended up taking both cocks into her mouth at the same time. Both against her tongue. I felt Eduardo’s pulses growing; I knew him by then, and I slipped another finger into him too, from behind. That triggered everything. Eduardo came first. I came half a second later. Hilda swallowed what she could, let go of one cock, slid the other hand between her legs and came on her own, in spurts, all over the rug, with her mouth still full.

The three of us came at the same time. That had never happened to me before.

We stayed like that for a while, naked on the rug. Pink Floyd kept playing, now a different song, slower. I had a dumb look on my face and couldn’t get rid of it. They did too. Eduardo offered me water. Hilda laughed softly, still breathing fast.

The peach punch turned out delicious. We won the alley competition. Since that September, my visits to house 207 have become more frequent than any of my friends suspect.