My New Neighbor Needed More Than a Favor

Autumn was coming, and in the gated community the families were moving in almost nonstop. My name is Esteban. I’m five foot nine, I have light eyes, I wear glasses, and my hair is already somewhere between blond and gray. I weigh about seventy kilos, and according to people, from the back I look quite a bit younger than the sixty-eight I’ve already turned. I’m retired, but I take care of maintenance on the houses in the complex: a sort of handyman. I work more so I don’t sit still than out of necessity, although the extra money never hurts these days.

That morning I was at the entrance booth, having mate with the guards, when we saw the family who had bought the house in back arrive. First a pickup truck, then the moving truck. At the wheel was a man in his forties, and beside him a woman a little younger, with long light-brown hair and hazel eyes. In the back, two boys fighting over the window. A textbook family.

I got on my little electric cart and guided them to the house. They had already seen it several times, but I accompanied them out of courtesy, and at the same time to keep an eye on the moving guys.

When she got out of the car, I lost my breath. She was tall, with a harmonious body, and a smile that seemed to light up the whole front of the house. She wore a dark blouse and light-colored pants so tight they drew the line of her ass every time she took a step. Her tits, big and round, shifted just a little inside the blouse, and she moved with the natural ease of someone who doesn’t need to try to get attention.

I gathered my courage and introduced myself.

“Good morning, ma’am. My name is Esteban,” I said, extending my hand and hiding as best I could the bulge that was already starting to show in my pants.

“Hi,” she replied, distracted with the boys. “Carla, nice to meet you.”

“Boys, enough, help with the things in the car,” she scolded them, while the two of them ran around from one side to the other.

The husband, the moment he stepped onto the ground, pulled out his phone and started talking about some business. He promised he’d be back as fast as possible, said Carla was in charge of everything, and got back into the pickup.

“Again, Damián?” she protested. “We just got here, I need you here.”

“You can handle it on your own,” he answered. “Besides, you’ve got all these people to help you.”

And he pointed at me, as if I were part of the package.

“Go on, anyway you’re never around when you’re needed,” she muttered, already resigned.

I came over carefully and started lifting boxes and carrying them inside. Carla covered her face with her hands, frustrated.

“No, you really don’t need to help me,” she said, her voice cracking.

“No problem, I’m all service,” I answered, trying to lighten the moment with a joke.

“Thank you very much, really.”

As we put the things away, I admit my eyes kept drifting on their own. Every time she bent down to pick up a box, her pants tightened and let me make out the outline of her panties under the pale fabric. But more than desire, I felt something like pity. I couldn’t understand how a man with a woman like that could leave her there, stranded, on the very first day.

“All set, ma’am, everything’s in place.”

“Thank you, Esteban… that’s how you say it, right? When I’ve got the house set up I’ll invite you to eat, you and your wife, if you have one.”

“It’d be my pleasure. Now I’m off, I’ve got other errands.”

I left with my head turned around and my dick half-hard inside my pants. I had never run into such a complete beauty, so irresistible. And yet, deep down, there was something more than the curves: that barely contained sadness had stuck itself into me.

***

The next day my routine was the same as always: walking, feeding my animals, and going back around the neighborhood in case someone needed something. Just then the phone rang.

“Hello, Esteban?” a soft, warm voice.

“Yes, who’s speaking?”

“It’s Carla, from the house in back, the ones who arrived yesterday.”

“Hello, ma’am. What do you need?”

“We haven’t been able to install the washing machine and I don’t know how to do it.”

“Don’t worry. Give me ten minutes, I’ll get some tools and I’ll come over.”

“Thanks. If it’s a bother, you can come later, there’s not that much rush.”

“No bother at all. I’m coming right now.”

I hung up and my whole body jumped with pure happiness. Seeing her again, and up close, was a gift. I put on the cologne I kept for parties, the one that leaves a discreet but hard-to-forget trail, and headed to her house. Nervous, yes, but also full of doubts: would I find a woman reconciled with her husband, or the same one from yesterday, so alone?

I rang the bell and she opened right away. She had a kitchen apron tied around her waist, blue leggings that clung to her like a second skin, and a white tank top that barely contained her tits. Her nipples showed through the fabric, two hard points that said more than she would have wanted.

“You came so fast,” she laughed. “I was making something for the boys’ snack.”

“I was free. Can I come in?”

“Of course, come in, sorry.”

She led me down the hallway. Behind her I had the best possible view: the apron swayed just enough to let me glimpse the motion of a round, firm ass, outlined in the leggings as if they’d been painted on. The “help” was already paid for by that silent show. My cock started swelling inside my pants just from watching her walk.

“Here it is. We bought it two weeks ago. I can usually figure out how to install it, but it’s heavy… and well, my husband, as you heard, isn’t here today either.”

She brought her hands to her head in a tired gesture. She sighed, and in that instant everything about her seemed to ask for a little attention.

“No problem, men are like that with work,” I told her as I knelt to fit the hoses. “Want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”

“I don’t want to bore you.”

“Not at all. I can even be your therapist, if you let me,” I joked, though my pulse had already picked up.

“It’s kind of like yesterday,” she said, fixing her hair. “Damián lives with the phone glued to his ear. I have my own company too, but I know how to separate work from family. With him you have to ask for everything, and even then. I’ve told him a hundred times.”

“I don’t understand how he isn’t there for you all day long,” I let slip, with a touch of mischief I couldn’t hold back.

“Why do you say that?” she asked, turning toward me.

“I don’t want to sound forward, but you’re too beautiful, and you’ve got everything in all the right places.”

I blushed a little, though I didn’t regret it for a second.

“You’re quite the flirt, huh,” she laughed.

“I have my talents,” I answered, preparing to lift the washer. “Give me a hand? But watch the apron.”

She untied it with a quick movement, set it on the counter, and moved to the other side to hold it. When she bent over, the tank top opened and gave me a view from above of the base of her tits, white, braless, hanging heavy forward. I had to bite my tongue not to let out a groan. The air between us turned thick, electric. For a few seconds neither of us said anything; only the hum of the new appliance broke the silence.

“There. Did it come out okay?” she asked, unaware, or pretending to be.

“Yeah. Perfect,” I stammered.

***

With the washing machine running and that tension floating around, Carla smiled at me.

“Want some coffee, Esteban? Come to the kitchen.”

I accepted happily. While she made it with her back to me, again my eyes drifted on their own: the lifted ass inside the leggings, the seam sinking between her cheeks every time she reached up to grab something from the cupboard. I made an effort to look at her neck, her shoulders, anything that wouldn’t give me away completely, but by then I was hard as a rock inside my pants.

We sat facing each other. In her hazel eyes there was a shadow she couldn’t quite hide.

“What’s wrong, Carla? Why that look?”

“Nothing, don’t worry. It’s just one of those moments.”

“Moments of what? Loneliness?”

Her eyes got a little wet.

“Before, Damián was around for these things. Now he’s absent. I understand, the work, and also…” she stopped suddenly, wiped away a tear with the back of her hand, and forced a smile. “I don’t have to burden you with this.”

“On the contrary. I’m here to listen too.”

“Sorry, but I still don’t understand your husband. With the woman he has, I’d live at your feet.”

“He’d be jealous of leaving me alone, in case some cheeky old man slips into my life,” she said with a half smile.

“And even so, here I am.”

I extended my hand across the table. Timidly, she rested her palm on mine. Just a touch, and a current ran all the way up my arm. I think she felt it too, because she pulled her hand away right away and hid it between her legs.

“Thank you for listening to me. But I don’t want to overwhelm you with my troubles.”

“You don’t overwhelm me. I’ll always be here whenever you need to talk… or whenever you need something fixed. In your house or in your life.”

I left with a double feeling: sadness at seeing her so vulnerable, and a kind of secret triumph at having felt her so close. That night, in my bed, I jerked off thinking about her, about the tits hanging when she bent over, about the ass squeezed inside the leggings. I came like a kid, with my hand full and Carla’s name on my lips.

***

The next morning dawned cool; autumn was moving along without haste. The phone rang again.

“Hi, Esteban,” that sweet voice again.

“Hi, Carla. How are you?”

“I need your help. I know I’m being a pain. Since it was cold, I wanted to try the fireplace, I burned some papers and moving boxes, and now the house is full of smoke.”

“You’re not a pain at all. Relax, I’ll finish a couple of things and I’m on my way.”

“Thanks, you’re a sweetheart. Kisses.”

“No problem. Kisses.”

That “kisses” echoed inside me. How much I wanted that woman. How badly I wanted to bury myself in her and make her forget her husband, the asshole.

When I arrived, the smell of burned paper was obvious. No matter how much she had opened the windows, it was clear the chimney draft wasn’t working. Carla came toward me: today she was wearing a short skirt and a black sports top, skin-tight, her belly bare and her tits pushed up, outlined like two melons. The heating was on inside and it was hot.

She kissed me on the cheek, very close to the corner of my mouth.

“Today I really made a mess,” she laughed.

“Let’s see what happened.”

We went into the living room. In the fireplace there was a mountain of paper scraps and a strong smell. First I started cleaning, then I inspected the flue.

“It happens all the time,” I explained. “Hardly anyone uses fireplaces anymore, they keep them as decoration. If you knew how nice it is to sit in front of the fire on a cool afternoon… nothing warms you up like it,” I added, with a double meaning I didn’t miss.

“Esteban, and your jokes,” she smiled, slyly.

I reached into the flue and there was the problem: the previous owner had blocked it with paper bags, maybe so no critters would get in.

“There it is. Let’s try now.”

“I’ve got a wooden crate outside,” she said, and went out to get it.

When she stood up quickly, her skirt rode up enough to show me her white panties, tiny, wedged between her cheeks. I didn’t know whether she had done it on purpose or whether I was inventing stories. The truth was that my body reacted instantly and my dick went hard all at once, throbbing inside my pants.

I built the fire: paper, pieces of the crate, thin logs on top. Carla shivered a little; she had gooseflesh on her arms. Without thinking, I rubbed her arms to warm her up.

“Thank you,” she murmured, not moving away.

The paper caught, but the wood wouldn’t take. We both leaned in to blow at the same time and ended up throwing ash all over each other. We laughed, pulled back, and fell down side by side on the rug.

I tried to wipe her face and only succeeded in smearing it more with the soot on my fingers. We laughed again, but now the laughter was nervous, loaded with something we could no longer name.

When we fell, she made no move to adjust her skirt, which had ridden up nearly to her waist and let me see the whole panty, tight, with a small wet spot in the middle. She just looked into my eyes intensely. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing, and her nipples pressed against the top like two little stones. My desire was on the surface, my dick made a gross bulge in my pants, and hers—her need to feel desired—rose in the heat coming off her body.

I moved slowly toward her mouth. My hand rested on her thigh, warm, firm. I couldn’t take the tension anymore, and she, with so much accumulated neglect, joined her desire to mine.

It doesn’t matter whether it’s right or wrong, I thought. The house would be empty until the afternoon, when the kids got back from school.

The first kiss was warm, almost shy. The second, deep, hungry, with my tongue pushing into her mouth and her giving it back with the same urgency, biting my lip, panting over my face.

I yanked her top up and freed her tits. They were beautiful: white, heavy, with pink nipples already hard, pointing at the ceiling. I took one in my hand and filled my mouth with the other, sucking her nipple like a starving man, biting it slowly.

“Aaah… Esteban…” she let out, arching against my mouth, burying my head in her chest. “Suck me, come on…”

“Like this, beautiful… what tits you’ve got, holy fuck,” I answered hoarsely, running my tongue from one nipple to the other.

I slipped my hand under her skirt. Her panties were soaked. I pulled the fabric aside and ran my finger over her bare cunt: a warm little pool, swollen lips, all of it asking for it. I could feel her hot and throbbing against my hand.

“You’re all wet,” I whispered in her ear.

“It’s been months since anyone touched me like this… months, Esteban…”

I pushed one finger in, then two. She began moving against my hand, squeezing my wrist between her thighs, panting harder and harder. I stroked her clit with my thumb, in circles, and she writhed on the rug, tits out and skirt bunched up at her waist.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please…” she begged with her eyes closed. “Deeper, come on…”

I pushed my fingers in as far as they’d go, pulling them out and pushing them back in while I ate her tits. She turned onto her side for a moment, hugged me, and kissed me almost tenderly, her tongue hot, her breath ragged. Then she unbuttoned my shirt, kissed my chest, bit it slowly, and kept going down while she held my gaze with a unique glow.

She opened my pants. She pulled them down together with my underwear in one yank, and my cock sprang out, stiff, throbbing, the tip already wet.

“Look how hard you are,” she murmured, grabbing it with her hand. “All for me…”

She jerked me slowly, her wrist loose, looking into my eyes. Then she lowered her head and licked me from base to tip, circling the head with her tongue, sucking up the little bead that remained. Without taking her eyes off me, she took the whole dick into her mouth, all the way to the back, until I felt her throat tightening around me.

“Aaah, holy fuck, Carla…” I groaned, grabbing her hair with both hands. “Like that, suck me like that…”

She sucked me with hunger, with months of pent-up want. Her head went up and down, one hand at the base, her tongue working the underside of the head, and every so often she took me out of her mouth to lick my balls, one by one, taking them in too. Saliva dripped down her chin, mixed with the soot still on her cheek, and she looked up at me with those hazel eyes as if to say look what I’m capable of doing for a little attention.

“Come up here,” I pulled lightly on her hair. “Come on, don’t make me come yet.”

She climbed on top of me, straddling me, with her skirt hiked up and her panties already somewhere in a corner of the rug. She grabbed my cock with her hand, ran it through her soaked cunt a couple of times, set it at the entrance, and lowered herself slowly, closing her eyes, biting her lip, letting me into her centimeter by centimeter until I hit bottom.

“Ahhh, God… you’re so hard…” she panted, staying still for a second, feeling me inside her. “So hard… so thick…”

She started moving on top of me. First slowly, sitting down and lifting herself up, with her tits hanging close to my face so I’d keep sucking them. Then faster, hands on my chest, riding me in front of the fire crackling off to the side. Every time she came down, a short moan escaped her, a little “uh” rising from the bottom of her chest.

I grabbed her ass with both hands, squeezing it, guiding her movement. I spread her apart and ran my finger, wet with her own juices, over her asshole. She trembled all over.

“Yes… yes, touch me there too…”

I turned her over and laid her on her back on the rug, legs open, pink and shiny cunt waiting. I knelt between her legs and rammed my cock in all at once. She screamed, a muffled scream I covered with my hand.

“The neighbors, idiot,” I whispered, smiling.

“Then shut me up… shut me up by fucking me…”

I started moving, first slow, then harder. I grabbed one leg, put it over my shoulder, and like that, almost on her side, I could feel her squeezing all around me. The dry slap of my hips against hers, the wet sound, her broken gasps. I took her tits in both hands, shaking them to the rhythm of my thrusts.

“More, harder, come on…” she begged, eyes half closed. “Break me, Esteban, do what he doesn’t do to me anymore…”

I turned her over. I put her on all fours on the rug, in front of the fire. Round white ass, lifted up, cunt open and waiting. I knelt behind her and shoved it in again with a thrust. I gripped her hips with both hands and started fucking her hard, watching her ass bounce against my pelvis, watching her tits shake underneath her.

“Aaah… like that… like that, old man…” she panted, face against the rug and ass raised for me. “Fuck me… fuck me like I’m yours…”

“You’re mine now, you hear me?” I growled, giving her ass a slap that left my handprint. “All mine…”

“Yes, yours, yours… keep going, don’t stop…”

I ran my wet thumb over her asshole again, resting it there softly. She pushed back, searching for it. I slid it in slowly, up to the knuckle, while I kept fucking her cunt.

“Ahhh, God, like that, come on, like that…”

I felt her clench around me, her whole body trembling, a long moan coming out of her chest, rough, animal. Her voice broke in a cry she tried to bite down into her arm. She came with such force it almost dragged me with her: her cunt contracted around my cock, squeezing me, sucking me from the inside, and I felt a warm rush of fluid run down onto my balls.

“I’m coming too, beautiful,” I told her, voice breaking. “Where, where do you want me to finish?”

“In my mouth,” she panted, turning as best she could. “Give it to me in my mouth, I want to taste it…”

She came out from underneath me, knelt in front of me, and opened her mouth, tongue out and eyes locked on mine. I jerked myself two, three times, and let go. The hot spurts fell onto her tongue, onto her lips, onto her tits still bare. She sucked me until the last drop, never taking her eyes off my face, swallowing everything with a purr.

“Aaah, holy fuck, Carla…” I groaned, swaying. “You killed me…”

She laughed, mouth full, and ran a finger along the corner of her lips, collecting what had spilled out.

There was no going back. In front of the fire that had finally caught, we had sought each other out, slowly and urgently at the same time, like two people who had been waiting far too long for something like this.

“Stay, Esteban,” she asked me later, when both of us were breathing hard on the rug. “I’m not letting you go yet.”

We went to the downstairs bathroom. She turned on the shower and we got under the water. I washed her back, the soot left on her skin, the cheeks still red from my hand, and she returned the caresses with a sweetness that undid me. She grabbed my cock, soft now, and washed it with soap, laughing, squeezing it gently. She got me hard again halfway up.

“No, no, not again…” she laughed, pushing me against the tiles. “You’re dangerous, old man.”

“You’re the one who gets me like this.”

I pulled her against my chest under the water. I ran my hand over her cunt, just barely, and she sighed against my neck. She turned around, braced her hands on the wall, and arched her ass toward me, offering it.

“One more… just one and you let me live…”

I put it back in there under the stream, holding her by the waist. It was shorter, slower, almost tender, with her moaning softly against the tiles and me kissing her wet shoulder. I came inside her this time, unable to hold back, pressing her against my body, feeling her go slack in my arms.

We stayed there a long while, holding each other, letting the water run over both of us.

“That’s enough, Esteban… I’m exhausted,” she laughed. “Let’s enjoy these few minutes of peace.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything,” I told her. “I’m your trusted man. For all services.”

I held her tight under the water.

Later, drying off and having coffee in the kitchen, we promised it would never happen again. But neither of us believed a single word of it.

I kissed her on the cheek and left slowly, knowing that sooner or later someone would call me again to light the next flame.