I Went Back to My Neighbor’s Place. I Knew What Was Coming

Since Monday I’d been counting the hours until Saturday. It wasn’t excitement; it was fear. I knew I had to go back to my neighbor Bruno’s place, and I knew exactly what was going to happen there. The first time had been in the building’s storage rooms, and my body still hurt just remembering it. But now I had to go up to his apartment, and that made me feel much worse.

The only thing that made the idea bearable was thinking about his cock. It was long, thick, with huge balls that swung when he walked. That part I liked. The rest—his belly, his cloudy stare, that crooked smile he wore when he saw me—filled me with a disgust I couldn’t explain and that, for some reason, also turned me on.

The blackmail nightmare was still there. The photos, the videos. If I refused to go, I lost everything. If I went, I was his. There was no good way out.

Saturday arrived. We had a date at eleven sharp, but at quarter to eleven I was already going down the stairs in my building. Before leaving I’d looked through the peephole, just in case I saw Andrés, the neighbor from the second floor, but the landing was empty. Better that way. I didn’t want to run into anyone and have to invent some excuse for why I was going up to Bruno’s place on a Saturday morning.

I rang the bell and waited pressed against the door, almost with my back to it, so no one passing in the hallway would see my face. Then I heard the elevator coming up. I froze. I was about to take off down the stairs when the door suddenly flew open.

Bruno appeared in the doorway, dressed only in a short cotton robe. Nothing underneath. He held it closed with one hand with little interest, so the front stayed half open and his cock hung there in plain sight, long and heavy even flaccid.

—Well, well. My little neighbor, and on time too —he said, smiling in that way that tied my stomach in knots.

My legs were shaking. I felt cold sweat on the back of my neck and my face was burning. I couldn’t make a sound. I just stood there staring at him like an idiot.

—Come in, go on —he said, stepping aside a little.

I went in without thinking. As soon as I crossed the threshold, he shut the door with his foot and grabbed my package over my pants.

—That’s how I like my little sluts —he whispered in my ear—. Obedient.

I jerked and turned with my back to the wall, trapped between it and his body. I clutched his wrist by instinct, but I didn’t pull his hand away. I couldn’t. He was squeezing hard, but also expertly, as if he knew exactly where to touch.

—You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, huh? I’ve seen you changing the time you take out the trash so you won’t run into me in the elevator. But in the end you came, didn’t you?

I didn’t answer. No need. He already knew the answer.

He brought his mouth to mine. His lips were thick and his breath smelled like coffee. He ran his tongue over my lips, slowly, almost with disgust on my part and brazenly on his.

—Open your mouth, little slut. I want to taste you.

I opened my lips without wanting to open them. His tongue went in whole, thick, probing inside as if he wanted to leave a mark on me. He sucked on my tongue, bit my lower lip, nonstop, until I tasted the metallic flavor of blood. All the while his hand stayed down there, already slid inside my pants, groping my cock and my balls nonstop.

When he let go of my mouth my lips were swollen and red, as if he’d chewed them up. He took the other hand to my ass, over the fabric, and started squeezing it.

—Oh, what a little ass, what a little ass you have —he kept saying—. Come on, let’s go to the living room, I want to see you naked.

He pushed me down the hallway, hugging me from behind and rubbing himself against me at every step. The living room was small, with a round table in the center. On the table there was an open newspaper, several magazines, and a couple of small objects I didn’t recognize at first glance. Later I understood what they were for.

Without leaving me alone, he started undoing my belt. He bit my ear, licked my neck, whispered in my ear the things he was going to do to me. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t do anything else.

—I’m going to knock you up again, this little belly —he whispered—. I’m going to leave you full inside.

My pants fell to my ankles. He lifted my arms and pulled my T-shirt off. When I was half naked, his hands roamed over my chest, my abdomen, my nipples. He pinched hard with his fingers, knowing perfectly well what he was doing. I was already hard. There was no denying it. My cock strained against the fabric of my briefs and throbbed.

—Look how hard you are, faggot —he said with a little laugh—. You love it.

He yanked my briefs down. My cock sprang up, slapping against my stomach. Behind me, he rubbed his own against the slit of my ass, slowly, letting me feel it well. It was heavy and hot. He pressed me against his hips while one of his hands held my cock and the other kept on with my nipples.

—You’re about to come, huh? You’re just about ready to blow from this alone.

It was true. If he kept going like that for one more minute, I was going to come before he even put it in me. He knew it. That was why he stepped away.

—Take off your shoes and your pants. I want to see you all the way.

I bent down to untie my laces. While I was leaning over, he gave my ass two sharp slaps. It burned, but it also made me moan softly without meaning to.

—What a little ass, what a little ass —he repeated—. Come here, stand right here.

He held me by the waist and pushed me against the table. I put my hands down first, then my chest. He spread my legs with his knee. I was left bent over, my ass stuck out, fully exposed.

He crouched behind me. I felt him separate my cheeks with his thumbs. Then, the tip of his tongue. Hot, wet, tracing the outline of my entrance with cruel slowness.

—Ohhh —I let out.

—You like that, little slut? —he asked while he licked—. You came here so clean. I like that. I like that a lot.

He lingered there a long time. He licked, bit my ass cheeks, licked again. He worked his tongue into my sphincter until I felt myself loosening. When I couldn’t take it anymore, he started pushing in with one finger. It went in without much resistance.

—Easy. It’s just one finger. We’re going to open you up little by little, because this time I want you to enjoy it.

He bent the finger inside me, moved it, pulled it out and shoved it back in. After a while he added the second. It burned. It burned, and at the same time it made me move my hips backward, looking for more.

—That’s it, faggot. Look how you open up. Look how you’re already begging me.

He made me turn around. He took off the robe at last and stood naked, with his hard cock pointed at my stomach. He put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me down. I knelt.

—Come on, open your mouth. Let me coat it well with your saliva.

I grabbed the base with both hands and took it into my mouth. It was bigger than I remembered. It barely fit. He grabbed my hair and started thrusting, setting the pace, not caring if I choked.

—Likeee that, likeee that, swallow, little slut, swallow.

His balls hit my chin with every shove, heavy, like a clapper. I cried without meaning to, not from sadness but from effort. Saliva ran down my chin and fell over his balls, soaking them. When I started gagging, he yanked his cock out of my mouth and grabbed my arms.

—Up.

He lifted me and sat me on the edge of the table. He spread my legs. He crouched this time and put my whole cock in his mouth, all the way to the base. I let out a long moan, clutching his head. His tongue licked my balls while he had my cock in his throat.

—You like that, huh? —he said, letting go for a moment—. We’re going to make you come like you deserve.

He moved to my perineum, to my hole again. I was all nerves. I felt like I was going to come at any moment, and he noticed. That’s why he stopped.

He turned me back around and laid me on the table again, chest down, legs apart. He took one of the little jars from the table and I felt the cold lube on my ass. His fingers slid into me easily. He coated me well inside.

—Ready, little girl —he said.

I felt the tip of his cock at my entrance. A first pressure, soft, almost accidental. And then, without warning, one long, deep thrust that shoved it all the way in to the hilt.

—Ohhh! —I yelled, clutching the edge of the table.

—There we go, all of it’s in —he panted, holding me by the hips—. Still, still. Get used to it.

He started moving. Slowly at first, almost carefully, making sure my body gave in. But soon the rhythm picked up. Plop, plop, plop. His pelvis slammed against my ass with every thrust, and I moaned louder and louder, unable to control myself.

—What a tasty little ass, bastard. You’re still so tight. I’m going to make you my girl, do you hear me? My little girl. You’re going to come when I call you.

He said it while he pounded me, marking me with every word. I could feel his cock brushing something inside me every time he went all the way in. It was an exact spot, and every time he hit it, my cock dripped without anyone touching it.

Suddenly I felt that rush rising from my balls. I didn’t have time to warn him.

—I’m coming! I’m coming! —I shouted as the spurts fell onto the living room floor.

—That’s it, my little girl, that’s it. Come for your man.

He kept going. He didn’t stop for a second. He kept drilling me while I finished emptying out, and then the pace got rougher. Every thrust lifted my feet off the floor. The table creaked. I kept moaning, now with my cock soft and my ass burning, feeling him get closer and closer to his end.

—Ohhh, that feels so good! I’m coming, I’m coming!

I felt him throb inside me. Four, five hot, deep spurts. He stayed still, buried to the hilt, breathing against my back. His hand stroked the nape of my neck almost tenderly, which scared me more than everything before.

—I’ve knocked you up again in this little belly —he said, and laughed.

We were like that, catching our breath, when the doorbell rang.

Bruno lifted his head with interest. He pulled out of me slowly, put his robe back on, and looked at me from the living room doorway.

—Well, isn’t this timely —he said—. You don’t move from here. Stay just like that.

He went out into the hallway to open the door. I stayed leaning on the table, my ass full and my legs shaking, listening to him turn the latch. And as I heard the lock opening, I understood that it wasn’t over. That something else was just beginning.