My Neighbor Asked Me a Question That Changed Everything

It wasn’t the first time my neighbor Pilar had invited me over to her place for coffee, and I always accepted gladly. We’d lived on the same landing for years and, over time, those coffees had become a habit neither of us wanted to lose. Her living room smelled of cinnamon and cold tobacco, and I felt more comfortable there than in my own flat, where the silence weighed too heavily.

That afternoon we were sitting on the sofa, close to each other, talking about nothing in particular, when she suddenly threw me a question without warning.

—Tell me, Elena, how long has it been since you were with someone?

The question was out of the blue, and even more so in those terms. I looked at her, not quite sure what face to make.

—Pilar, what’s that about? Are you all right?

—Well, look, I think I’m not —she said, laughing with a mix of weariness and frankness—. This morning I realized how long it’s been since anyone touched me, and I think we’re both in the same boat. The strange thing is I don’t have any desire to go looking for a man. Do you feel the same?

It was true that we both lived alone. I’d been widowed three years earlier, after a long illness that had left me empty inside, and my only son lived his life in another city. Pilar had separated from her husband around the same time, and she also had a son who hardly ever showed up. In all that time I hadn’t been with anyone again. I hadn’t even seriously considered it.

—I don’t know what to tell you —I said at last—. I suppose yes, we’re in the same situation.

—Don’t say anything if you don’t want to —she went on, looking at me in a way I didn’t know—. I think you’re gorgeous, Elena. More than appetizing. If you put your mind to it, you wouldn’t be short of someone to let off steam with.

I was surprised by the compliment, and it amused me. At forty-eight I felt good, I couldn’t complain, and Pilar also had nothing to envy in a thirty-year-old woman. I had to return the gesture.

—To be honest, you keep yourself divinely. And you’re much bolder than I am. Whenever you want, you won’t be short of company either.

What happened next I never expected in a thousand years. We were very close on the sofa, and suddenly her hands settled on both sides of my face and her mouth found mine. It was a short kiss, but firm, and I had to pull away because her lips didn’t seem willing to let me go.

—What are you doing, Pilar? —I exclaimed.

—What you see. Getting close to the person I want to be with.

—But… weren’t you talking about men?

—I was talking about being with whoever I feel like being with. And I feel like being with you. Very much.

I was left speechless. In my whole life I had never imagined being desired by a woman, and less so by my neighbor, by the person I shared spare keys and complaints about the building with. What was most bewildering was that that kiss, though I had stopped it, hadn’t displeased me. Quite the opposite.

Was I wishing it had lasted longer?

The sensible thing was to cut the conversation short, say goodbye, and cross the landing to my door. I made as if to get up, but her hands caught mine and held me in place.

—I know you weren’t expecting this —she said, and for the first time there was something fragile in her voice—. I just wanted you to know how comfortable I feel with you. And not just to chat. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable.

I couldn’t tell her I didn’t feel good by her side, because that would have been a lie. What I had never thought was that my company might awaken something in her other than a good friendship. I searched for the words not to hurt her.

—Look, Pilar, you know this friendship matters to me. Let me think about what you’re telling me. And don’t call it making me uncomfortable. I’m flattered that you like being with me.

I managed to stand up, and she got up with me, without letting go completely. We ended up face to face, staring at each other, and then I felt in that look something that had never been there before, or that I had never wanted to see. It was so clear that when she leaned in again, I didn’t resist.

The second kiss was nothing like the first. It was slow, hungry, in no hurry to end. Her tongue slipped between my lips and sought out mine with a brazenness that tore a low moan from me. Her hands circled my waist and slid down without shame to squeeze my ass over the dress, pulling me against her. No one had touched me like that in years, with hunger, and I stood still, almost paralyzed, feeling my nipples harden beneath my bra and a wetness begin to gather between my legs that I had forgotten even existed.

When we finally parted, neither of us said anything for a few seconds. I was breathing hard and my cheeks were burning, like a child caught doing something naughty. She held my face between her hands and looked at me with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in all those years of coffees.

—If you want, I’ll stop —she said, suddenly very serious—. One word and we go back to the sofa like nothing happened. I don’t want to lose you over my stupidity.

And precisely for that reason, because she left me the door open to run, I decided to stay. I shook my head slowly. I didn’t want to go back to the sofa. I didn’t want to go back to my empty flat, or to the silence, or to the afternoons counting the hours until the next coffee. For the first time in a long time, I wanted something, and I wanted it now.

—Come —she murmured against my ear—. I want to eat your cunt, Elena. I’ve been thinking about it for months.

The word hit me like a hot slap. No one had ever said something like that to me, and certainly not in that rough, sure voice. A gasp escaped me and I let her lead me by the hand down the hallway.

***

We stumbled into her bedroom half kissing, biting each other’s lips. The soft light filtered through the half-lowered blind, drawing golden stripes across the white sheets. Her fingers undid the robe I was wearing without asking permission, because there was no need anymore. I let it fall to the floor and stayed in my bra and panties, exposed to her eyes, feeling more alive than I had in a very long time.

—You’re beautiful —she said, and she said it slowly, taking me in before touching me—. Look at those tits, fuck. And those hips. You’re going to drive me crazy.

She pushed me gently until I fell seated on the edge of the bed. She knelt between my legs and kissed me again, this time with her tongue going all the way into my mouth, seeking mine, sucking on it as if she wanted to pull it out. She bit my lower lip and tugged before letting go. I was trembling all over. It was a sensation I had never experienced, not even with my husband in the good years. There was something different in the way Pilar touched me, as if she knew exactly where and how, because she knew that same body in her own.

She unclasped my bra with one hand and my breasts were bared, heavier than I remembered, with the nipples so hard they hurt. She weighed them in her palms, squeezing them, and lowered her head to catch one in her mouth. She sucked hard, dragging her teeth over the nipple, and I threw my head back with a muffled cry.

—Yes, Elena, like that, tell me what you feel —she murmured before moving to the other breast and doing the same.

—You’re killing me… don’t stop…

Her hands pushed me until I lay back, and she climbed astride me without stopping kissing me. I could feel her pussy rubbing against mine over the fabric, and although we were both still wearing panties, the friction was brutal. She slid her hand inside mine and her fingers found my soaked cunt.

—Fuck, how wet you are —she whispered against my ear—. You’re dripping, Elena. Years without anyone touching you and look at you now, all hot for me.

—Shut up and keep going —I asked her, in a voice I didn’t recognize as my own.

She gave a soft laugh and shoved two fingers inside me in one thrust. I screamed. Not from pain, but from pure relief, as if something locked shut for three years had just burst open. Her fingers moved slowly, in and out, while her thumb searched for my clit and pressed it in circles. I spread my legs wider, without the slightest shame, arching my back to press myself against her hand.

—That’s it, baby, move for me. Fuck my fingers.

I had never in my life heard anyone talk like that, least of all in a bedroom. But in her mouth it sounded so natural, so true, that it only heated me up more. I began moving my hips against her hand, shamelessly, feeling pleasure rise up my belly and make me moan louder and louder.

Before I could come, she pulled her fingers out and brought them to her mouth, sucking them in front of me with half-lidded eyes.

—You taste fucking amazing —she said—. Now I’m going to eat you whole.

She yanked my panties down, and I lifted my hips to help her. She moved between my legs and pushed them apart with her hands until they were fully open. I felt her eyes fixed on my exposed cunt and I would have died of embarrassment if I hadn’t been so hot.

—It’s so beautiful —she murmured before lowering her head.

Her tongue started slowly, licking me from bottom to top, long and flat, gathering every bit of wetness. Then she focused on my clit and circled it with the tip, teasing, not letting me get there. I writhed on the sheets, clutching the hair at the nape of her neck, not knowing whether to push her harder against me or ask her to stop because I wasn’t going to be able to take it.

—Pilar, please…

—What do you want? Tell me.

—Suck it, fuck, suck it hard.

She closed her lips around my clit and started sucking while two fingers slid back inside me and fucked me without mercy. Her tongue worked over the swollen bud, lashing it, sucking, nibbling carefully, and her bent fingers inside hit a spot I hadn’t known I had. My whole body tightened like a rope about to snap. I hadn’t felt anything like it in years. I had forgotten what true desire was, the kind that starts in the center and spreads to the tips of your fingers.

The orgasm split me in two. I shouted her name without the slightest shame, clenched my legs around her head and then opened them again because I couldn’t bear it, and she kept licking, softer now, milking me through the last contraction while I shook and moaned and came in her mouth like I had never come in my life.

—Oh, Pilar! What have you done to me?

—Didn’t you like it? —she asked, lifting her head with a smile. Her chin was shining wet.

Like it. It had driven me wild. It had awakened in me something I thought had died and been buried with my husband. I pulled her to me and kissed her with all the force I had, feeling my own taste on her lips, on her tongue, and instead of disgust, that made me even hotter. I put into that kiss what I didn’t know how to say with words: that I was happy, that I didn’t regret a thing, that I would never have imagined finding in a woman what I had missed so much for so long.

—You have no idea how happy you make me —she said, stroking my hair—. Seeing you come like that, completely, has been the greatest gift.

—Now it’s your turn —I said, and my voice didn’t tremble.

And then I was the one who sat up. I pushed her down flat on her back on the bed and began to undress her slowly, discovering skin I knew from so many afternoons of coffee and that now seemed new to me. I unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time and slipped off her bra. Her tits were smaller than mine, high, with dark, very hard nipples. I threw myself at them and sucked them one after the other, biting them gently, imitating what she had done to me. Pilar moaned and buried her hands in my hair.

—Yes, Elena, like that, suck them…

I pulled down her pants and panties at the same time, yanking until I got them off over her feet. She was naked beneath me, legs spread, offering herself. I looked at her cunt with curiosity and with a dirty hunger I hadn’t known I had. Her mound was neatly trimmed, her lips swollen and shining with how wet she was. I went down without thinking twice and gave her the first long, awkward lick, learning as I went.

—That’s it, keep going —she panted—. Suck me slowly, find the clit with your tongue.

I did as she said. I found the small, hard bud and circled it with the tip of my tongue, just as she had done with me. She tasted salty and sweet at once, an intimate flavor, very much her own. When she began to arch her back and clutch the sheets I knew I was on the right track. I slid one finger inside, then two, and felt her close around them, hot, tight.

—Harder, my love, suck me harder…

I obeyed. I closed my lips over her clit and sucked the way she had, while my fingers went in and out hard. Pilar began trembling beneath me, moving her hips against my mouth, and suddenly she went rigid and let out a long, deep moan that came from the bottom of her throat. I felt her cunt pulsing around my fingers, gripping them rhythmically, and a new rush of wetness soaked my chin. She was coming, and I was coming inside at the sound of it.

When I let her go, she pulled me up to her mouth and kissed me, soaked with herself, and without giving me time to react she swung one leg over me and pressed her cunt against mine. Our two swollen, wet lips rubbed together, and I cried out in pure astonishment.

—Move with me —she asked—. Let’s come together.

We started moving, clumsy at first, searching for the angle, until our clits found each other and all awkwardness disappeared. We rubbed against each other hungrily, moaning into each other’s mouths, squeezing each other’s tits with our hands, biting each other’s necks. The bed creaked. I could feel her wetness mixing with mine and sliding between us, and how that constant friction carried me back to the edge again.

—I’m coming again, Pilar, I’m coming…

—Me too, hold on, hold on just a little longer…

I didn’t hold on at all. I came apart beneath her with a cry, and she let go over me a second later, trembling, pressing me to her body as if I might slip away. We stayed locked together, drenched in sweat and cunt-juice, breathing hard, laughing softly without really knowing why.

Outside, it was starting to get dark. The coffee cup was still half full on the living room table, cold and forgotten, while the two of us discovered that between two neighbors, two friends, two women who thought they were too old for all this, a new life had just opened up.

When I crossed the landing back to my flat, well into the night, with my panties in my bag because they were useless and Pilar’s scent still on my fingers, I laughed alone in the darkness of the stairwell. Three years thinking my body was good for nothing, and all it had taken was one nosy question, one ordinary afternoon, to understand that desire doesn’t care about age or labels. The next day Pilar would knock on my door with two cups and that smile of hers. And I, for the first time in a long while, had something to look forward to.