The Package the Neighbor Brought Me That August Morning

At last August had arrived. Like every summer, I went with my family to the house my parents have on the Asturian coast, far from the suffocating heat of Seville. The night before I’d gone out with some girlfriends from the village, so when I woke up it was almost noon. Luckily I’d slept so long there wasn’t a trace of a hangover left.

I left the room and didn’t run into anyone. It surprised me, until I saw a message from my sister Bea on my phone: they’d all gone into town shopping because the morning had dawned foggy and no one felt like going down to the sand. That’s the north for you, I thought. But at least you didn’t melt the way you do back home.

I stepped out onto the kitchen balcony. The sky was still gray, though the sun was starting to break through the clouds and the temperature was pleasant. I went back to my room, put on a blue bikini with white stripes, and, taking advantage of having the house to myself, poured myself a red vermouth over ice.

Glass in hand, I went out into the garden to lie down. To keep from getting cold, I threw on a low-cut knitted cardigan my sister had left on a chair. Half-dressed and half-not, I settled into the hammock beside the pool. I like feeling pretty all the time, even when no one is looking.

On the little table was the book I’d been reading these days, a romance novel with a lot more fire than its cover promised. I took a sip, opened it to the dog-eared page, put some quiet music on my phone, and tuned out the world.

I was in the middle of that — reading, getting tipsy, and winding myself up a little, because the scene in the book left nothing to the imagination — when the neighbor from the villa next door appeared in front of me. We’d been sharing summers with his family for years: a couple from Madrid with two kids. There was familiarity, but only just; my parents aren’t very sociable, and things never went beyond a cordial greeting.

His name was Marcos and he must have been around forty-five. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered and strong-backed, with very black hair just beginning to go gray at the temples and a rugged face that wasn’t exactly handsome but was magnetic. Over the last few summers he had started seeming more and more appetizing to me, and that year in particular I discovered that his mere presence stirred thoughts in me I shouldn’t have had.

I was convinced the attraction was mutual. Over the years my body had developed the right way: firm breasts, a narrow waist, legs built from so much volleyball. And I had noticed that Marcos didn’t miss that evolution. More than once I’d caught him stealing furtive looks at my cleavage or my ass when he thought I hadn’t noticed. I confess that discovering it gave me a tingle between my legs I wouldn’t know how to describe.

For all those reasons, seeing the neighbor appear in my garden that morning was a very pleasant surprise.

“Hi! How are you?” he greeted me. “Sorry to bother you. A delivery guy was ringing your bell for a good while and, since no one came out, I went to receive him.”

He was holding a cardboard box in his hands, one of those typical online shopping packages.

“Oh, hi!” I replied, a little flushed.

I stopped the music and, doing so, the book slipped to the floor. When I bent down to pick it up, my breasts pressed against the bikini and I felt his gaze fixed right there. That was exactly the kind of detail I meant.

I explained that between the music and how faint the doorbell sounded from the garden, I hadn’t noticed a thing.

“Aren’t your parents or your sister here?” he asked.

“No, I’m alone,” I answered, and without meaning to a wicked smile slipped out.

I stretched back out in the hammock and left the book on the little table. Marcos let his eyes travel over my body exposed to the timid sun, and the way he looked at me went from discreet to shameless in the blink of an eye.

“I think the package is for you,” he said, lifting the box slightly. “Your name’s Nora, right?”

“Let me see…” I took the box from his hands. Sure enough, it was addressed to me. “Yes, that’s me. Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome.”

“Perfect, exactly what I was waiting for,” I said, meaning both the package and, with an ulterior motive, the visit. “They didn’t even tell me it was out for delivery. If I’d known, I would’ve been paying attention to the bell.”

“Don’t worry, it happens a lot lately. Delivery drivers are snowed under with work.”

When I sat up, I noticed the vermouth had gone to my head more than it should have; it always hits me hard on an empty stomach. I don’t know whether it was the alcohol, the reading, or having the neighbor’s figure right in front of me, but the fact is I got horny all at once. And then, as if inspiration had struck me like lightning, I came up with a brilliant idea.

***

Right in front of me was the perfect chance to get what I’d been imagining for days. Not only because no one was home, but because —what a coincidence— the brand-new package contained exactly the excuse I needed to flirt with him without even pretending.

“Since you’re here, do you want me to show you what’s inside?” I suggested. “I’d like to know what you think, so I can decide whether to keep it or return it. I think you’re going to like it.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. But you have to promise you won’t tell my parents.”

Marcos looked taken aback for a second. Then he shrugged with all the slyness in the world.

“Of course. My mouth is sealed.”

I rested the box on my legs, opened it, and showed him the contents. It was a very tiny swimsuit, bright fuchsia pink, with a matching pair of high-heeled sandals and sunglasses in the same shade.

“Lovely…” he said. “I’m sure it’ll look divine on you. Though I don’t know… are you sure it’s your size? There’s very little fabric.”

“That’s the idea,” I shot back.

I winked at him while I calculated my next move. I’m not shy, but what I was about to do was pretty daring, and I wanted to do it properly.

“Just imagining you wearing that is blowing my mind,” he added. “Though it doesn’t look very comfortable for the beach. Is it for something else? A photo shoot, a party?”

“You hit the nail on the head,” I told him. “It’s for a party tonight on some friends’ boat. Want to see how it looks on me?”

“Do I want to…?” he stammered, swallowing hard. “I’d love to.”

“Then make yourself comfortable. You’re about to find out right now.”

***

I got up from the hammock and, instead of going to change, I grabbed my phone and put the music back on. I started swaying in front of him. Marcos understood at once; he settled into the lounger I’d left free and prepared to watch with a smile that was no longer innocent in the least. It was clear he’d decided to stop pretending he didn’t know what was going on.

I put on a proper show. I started by undoing the knit cardigan, button by button, moving my hips to the slow beat of the music and staring straight at him. I’ve got him eating out of my hand, I thought. I wetted my lips with my tongue and saw his mouth go dry.

I knelt on the lounger, with his legs between mine, and finished taking off the cardigan; one arm first, then the other, and I tossed it into the air.

“My God,” he blurted, bringing a hand to his face. But he lowered it right away so he wouldn’t miss a thing. He only looked, not daring to touch.

I leaned forward and started stroking his chest over his T-shirt. With my other hand I covered his eyes for a moment and, meanwhile, I pulled down the top of my bikini until my breasts were bare. My nipples were hard as rocks; that always happens when I’m getting worked up.

“I like what I’m seeing very much,” he murmured when I uncovered his eyes.

“Then you’re probably going to like the rest even more.”

I let my hair loose, shook it from side to side, and took off the top completely. Then I pulled the bikini bottoms aside, revealing that I was shaved smooth. Finally I turned around, untied the strings, and presented my ass up close so he wouldn’t miss a single detail.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled. “Wonderful.”

I picked up the pink swimsuit that had just been delivered and slowly started putting it on. It was a one-piece, the kind that narrows so much at the crotch it hardly covers anything. The fabric clung to my sex, which was already wet, and the straps at the top covered only the bare minimum of my breasts. I sat down beside him on the lounger, pressing my hip tightly against his leg, and kept touching myself while looking at him.

I still needed the sandals. I put them on without getting up, and Marcos knelt in front of me to help me fasten the buckle around my ankle. I liked seeing him like that, kneeling at my feet. It’s easy to have a man at your feet when you know what you’re doing.

I leaned back, braced my hands on the hammock, and lifted my legs into the air, first together and then slowly opening them. The dampness seeped through the thin fabric and hinted at everything beneath. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Would you mind taking some pictures of me?” I asked, offering him my phone. “So I can look at them later.”

“Of course, gladly.”

He took the phone, stood up, and started framing me from different angles. I stretched out in the hammock, then got on all fours with my ass up, looking at the camera, and put on the pink sunglasses to complete the set.

“Why don’t you record a video too?” I suggested. “It feels more real.”

“Good idea.”

I pulled the swimsuit straps together at the center of my chest and left my breasts exposed. Then I moved the bottom fabric aside and he leaned in to film close-up. I put two fingers in my mouth, sucked them, and began stroking myself with them while Marcos didn’t miss a single detail.

“You’re incredible,” he said in a husky voice. “You’re making me rock hard.”

I noticed the bulge showing beneath his jeans.

“I can see that…” I said. “Looks like this morning is all about packages. And the one the delivery guy brought won’t be the only one getting delivered. Right?”

“It’s all yours if you want it.”

“Oh, yes, I want it,” I answered, devouring him with my eyes. “Do you give me permission to open it?”

***

“Before that, let me do one thing,” he asked. “Turn around, facing the pool.”

I obeyed him and gave him my back. He set the phone on the little table, pressed up against my ass, spread my legs, and started licking me from behind, top to bottom and bottom to top. Feeling his tongue lit me up even more, something I would have sworn impossible a minute earlier. Every so often he gave my butt a little smack and I burned hotter and hotter, until a first orgasm shook me from head to toe.

Then he took off his T-shirt and turned me around. He cupped my face in his hands, kissed me, and gently pushed me downward by the shoulders. I ran my tongue over his chest and stomach until I was kneeling in front of his crotch. I unbuttoned his jeans and freed his cock, thick and curving upward. I took it in one hand and started licking the tip slowly, circling it, while with the other I stroked the rest of him.

I started sucking him eagerly and he held the back of my neck, taking control of my head firmly but without overdoing it. I like it when they do it like that, as a variation on a good blow job. When he got too excited and shoved too deep, he stopped so I could breathe, then went back in slowly. I even managed to stick out my tongue and lick his balls without letting go of his cock.

“Now I want you to fuck me,” I begged when my jaw got tired. “Make me shake.”

I took off the swimsuit and got on all fours in front of him. I felt him enter me, soft and slow at first, fast and hard after that. He grabbed my arms to drive in harder and then climbed over my hips, pounding into me without mercy. He took me by the hair, pulled back, and kept driving into me for a good long while.

Marcos was a silent lover, but I moaned without the slightest restraint, more and more out of my mind. My skin was burning and my nipples were sticking out hard. Soon after, he turned me over, laid me on my back on the hammock, and I took him with my legs spread wide open. He put his fingers in my mouth, pulled them out, and squeezed my throat with one hand, not enough to choke me, but just enough for a second orgasm to leave me on the verge of fainting.

To give me a rest, I asked him to lie down and got on top. I rode him like a crazy woman, my breasts swinging in front of his face while he bit them and squeezed them. In the final stretch I clamped my legs, tightened my belly, and let a fresh wave run through me, vibrating around him until I was dazed.

“I’m… about… to… come…” he warned me.

Since he wasn’t wearing protection, I hurriedly got off and leaned over his stomach with my mouth open. I kept going with my hand and tongue until, all of a sudden, he gave a growl and finished. I took almost all of it, though, bent over the way I was, some of it ran down my chin.

“Thanks for bringing me my package,” I told him, staring straight at him, not wiping my face. “And, above all, thanks for this other one.”

“My pleasure,” he murmured, still out of breath.

***

Marcos opened his mouth as if to say something, but he fell silent, looking at me. I could tell he was hesitating.

“Don’t hold back,” I urged him. “Say whatever you’re thinking, I’m not going to be scandalized.”

He made up his mind at last.

“Don’t you like swallowing?”

He said it almost like a scolding. So that was it.

“Of course I like it,” I protested.

And to prove it, I ran my finger across my face, gathered up what had dripped down, and put it in my mouth, making sure he heard me swallow.

“That’s better,” he declared, smiling.

“Happy to make you happy,” I replied, all flirtatious.

I let myself sink into the hammock, filled with a strange, pleasant calm, and watched him get dressed to go back to his house. Before leaving, the cheeky man turned back and told me:

“Next time you buy something online, you can send it to my address if you want. I spend all day alone at home, working remotely, while mine go off to the beach.”

“Good to know,” I answered.

As soon as he left, Bea sent me a message saying they’d be back soon. I was sweaty and my face was sticky, so I dove straight into the pool to erase any trace of what had just happened. As I floated on my back, watching the sun break through the last clouds, I thought that this was going to be, by far, the best August I could remember. And that this one, for sure, I wasn’t going to tell anyone about.