The Mature Neighbor Who Opened the Door for Me That Morning

My name is Marcos, and the story I’m going to tell happened when I had just turned twenty. Back then I was a boy obsessed with sex, the kind who thinks about it all the time, especially after having tried it once and wanting more. My family and I had moved about a year earlier to a neighborhood on the outskirts of Valencia, a cluster of old, cheap apartment blocks where everyone knew one another and almost nothing stayed secret.

I wasn’t any kind of heartthrob. Average, more like: not very tall, not very strong. But I had a way with words, I was good with girls, and genetics had been generous to me in one part of my anatomy. I had a serious bulge even in loose jeans, and in the neighborhood gym locker room I’d already earned the reputation of being the guy with the biggest dick in the group. That reputation had spread through the neighborhood the way those things do, from window to window, and more than one neighbor knew by hearsay that the new kid in block eight “came well equipped.”

The buildings were so close together that from my window you could clearly see the neighbors opposite eating in their dining room. Six meters, no more. In the apartment next door lived a couple who had moved from a village in La Mancha a few months before us. Her name was Pilar and she was around forty. He was Bernardo, quite a bit older, short and weathered, the kind of man who looks like he carries the weight of the world on his back. He worked construction, left at dawn and came back at night, and on weekends he spent his time in the corner bar playing cards.

Pilar was something else. They had no children, and she had a body that didn’t fit the gray life she led beside that man. She was a little taller than me, dark-skinned, with long black hair that shone and fell to her waist when she wore it loose. Big dark eyes, full lips made for sucking cock, a narrow waist and broad hips capped by a round ass that moved beneath her skirt with every step. Her breasts, big and heavy, pressed hard against her clothes when she went down for bread without a bra. The kind of woman who stays burned into your mind, the kind you come thinking about every night.

From the moment they arrived, she and my mother became very close friends. She came by the house for coffee almost every day, and she always found a way to needle me. She called me “Marquitos,” knowing full well it drove me mad, and in front of my mother I didn’t dare answer back. Sometimes, under the pretext of a joke, she’d come too close, brush my arm with a breast, tell me in my ear that I was “a treasure someone ought to discover one day.” On the nights she did that, I didn’t sleep a wink: I’d shut myself in my room, pull out my dick, and jack off two or three times in a row imagining her naked in my bed, legs spread and begging me to fuck her. I’d finish with my belly full of semen and the pillow bitten down so I wouldn’t wake my parents.

***

Things changed one Holy Week morning. We were having breakfast when my mother asked me, after I was done, to go over to Pilar’s place. She had bought a new stereo and didn’t know how to get it working, and besides, a bedroom lamp of hers kept flickering nonstop.

I told her I couldn’t, that I had made plans with my friends to play soccer. My mother gave me that face that brooks no argument and threatened to cut off my allowance for the holidays. Grumbling, I grabbed the toolbox and crossed the landing.

My irritation vanished the moment Pilar opened the door. She was wearing a very thin nightgown and, over it, a short robe tied at the waist, just up, disheveled, and gorgeous. Under the fabric her nipples stood out stiff, dark and big, and her legs showed naked almost to the hip. I stood there staring at her, mouth open, taking her in from top to bottom, and I felt my dick beginning to swell inside my pants. She laughed.

—What’s the matter, kid? Never seen a woman in house clothes before?

—My mother —I answered, finding my voice again—. But my mother doesn’t go around like this, and she’s nowhere near as hot as you. I’ve never seen anyone prettier in my life.

—Oh, get out of here, flatterer. I’ve just gotten up and I must look awful.

—If this is looking awful, I can’t even imagine you dressed up. If I were a few years older, your husband would have reason to worry.

She burst out laughing, but she kept looking at me differently. Her eyes were shining, and at the corner of her mouth there was a smile that hadn’t quite decided itself. For a second she dropped her gaze to the bulge already showing in my jeans and then lifted it back to my eyes, without pretending she hadn’t noticed.

She led me into the dining room, where the stereo was. The problem was nothing, just a matter of reading the manual, but all I cared about at that moment was staying there as long as possible.

—Look, if the stereo is too complicated, leave it —she said, leaning against the doorway and crossing her arms under her breasts, pushing them up—. I care more about the bedroom lamp.

—If you call me Marquitos again, I’m leaving and you can find someone else.

—Forgive me, Mr. Marcos —she said sardonically.

—No forgiving anything, I’m not a kid anymore.

—I’ve already noticed that —she replied, and this time her gaze slowly dropped to my crotch and stayed there just long enough for me to notice—. Come on, let’s go look at the damned lamp.

***

In the bedroom I quickly discovered that one of the ceiling fixture wires was loose. The hall light had to be switched off, but she refused to go out in her nightgown in case a neighbor saw her, so I went. When I came back, I climbed a three-step stepladder and took down the lamp, which weighed like a dead body. I reconnected the wire, insulated it with tape, and got ready to hang it up again.

That’s where the real problem started. To hook it back in I had to stand on tiptoe, and the ladder wobbled like it was made of rubber. Then she offered.

—You hold the ladder for me, you’re taller. I’ll hook it up.

—You sure you can? It’s pretty heavy.

—I can handle anything they throw at me —she said, winking at me.

She climbed up holding the lamp in her hand. I was steadying the ladder from below, and when I looked up I almost died. The nightgown had ridden up to her waist, and the shameless woman wasn’t wearing anything underneath. There it was, a handspan from my face: her shaved pussy, with thick, slightly shiny lips, and her white round ass opening every time she stretched her arms overhead. I could see everything: the clit peeking out between the folds, the swollen slit, even the wet shine at the entrance trickling down the inside of her thigh. My heart jumped and my dick gave a tug inside my pants that almost made me gasp. I snapped my gaze away, red to the ears, but I lifted it again at once, unable to stop staring at that exposed cunt above me while she carried on with what she was doing, arms reaching toward the ceiling as if nothing were happening.

This can’t really be happening to me, I thought, feeling every muscle in my body tighten and my dick throb against the zipper.

When she came down, she didn’t need to look at me twice to realize the state she’d left me in. The bulge in my pants was impossible to hide: the whole shape of my dick was visible sideways, thick and hard, pointing toward my waistband.

—Well, well —she said, pointing at the obvious bulge in my pants, and licking her upper lip—. Seems you saw something interesting up there.

—You tell me —I muttered, not knowing where to put myself.

—All that because of me? I never thought a woman who could be your mother would get such a reaction out of such a young kid. And is that really all yours, or have you got a sock stuffed in there?

—You’re not my mother. And you’re not old at all. Plenty of twenty-year-old girls would kill to look like you. And I haven’t got anything stuffed in there: it’s all mine.

—You’re blunt, huh. The reputation you have in the neighborhood seems to be true.

—What reputation?

—That you’ve got a cock no woman can fit in her hand —she finally let out, and she laughed with her mouth open when she saw the look on my face—. The neighbors talk a lot, boy. And sometimes I listen.

She kept looking at me with a naughty smile. Then she turned toward the door and, as she did, she rubbed her ass for a second against my bulge, as if by accident.

—Come on, grab something from the fridge while I take a quick shower, which is what I was about to do when you got here. Then I’ll give you your tip. And don’t even think about peeking through the keyhole, you little sneak.

***

I wasn’t stupid, and I understood the message perfectly. As soon as I heard her go into the bathroom, I calmly approached the half-open door and, with every intention in the world, spoke loudly.

—If you need your back soaped, say the word.

I waited. When I was already turning away, thinking I’d overplayed my hand, the door opened. Pilar had taken off the robe and was left only in the nightgown, which with the bathroom light behind her made absolutely everything transparent: the dark, erect nipples pointing at me, the black shadow of her pussy, the navel, every curve. She took my hand and pulled me inside.

—You meant that seriously? You sure you want to come in?

—If it weren’t for the chance your husband might show up and catch us, I wouldn’t even hesitate.

—Bernardo doesn’t get back until noon —she said, and her voice trembled a little—. Seems to me the one getting cold feet here is you.

She gave a low laugh, turned around, and without closing the door, pulled the nightgown off over her head. She stood naked in front of me, with her big firm breasts barely hanging at all, the dark nipples hard as stones, a flat belly, her shaved pussy, and that huge round ass that had appeared before me ten minutes earlier. She walked naked toward the shower at the back. The screen was glass, and you could see her whole body under the water, her hair plastered to her back, her hands soaping her breasts. I didn’t think twice: in five seconds I had stripped and was inside with her, my dick pointed at her navel, so hard it hurt.

When she saw me, she brought her hand to her mouth and let out a gasp.

—Jesus, boy. That’s what you had hidden? I’ve never seen one like that in my life.

She looked me in the eyes as she reached out and took my dick by the base. Her fingers closed around it and still had a long way to go before her fist closed all the way. She started stroking me slowly, up and down, sizing me up, pulling the foreskin back to bare the head, already wet and shining. Her other hand went down to my balls, weighing them, squeezing gently.

—Fuck, it’s bigger than my wrist —she muttered, more to herself than to me—. How the hell are you going to get this into me?

—By putting it in —I told her, my voice rough.

She laughed and kissed me on the mouth, a slow tongue kiss, all while she kept jerking me under the hot spray. I pushed my tongue deep into her mouth and grabbed a breast with my full hand. I squeezed it until she moaned, played with the nipple between my fingers, pinched it. She answered by squeezing my dick harder, so hard it almost made me jump.

She made her way down my body, kissing my chest, my stomach, the line of hair that ran down from my navel, until she knelt under the water. She paused a moment looking up at it, with my cock pointing at her face and droplets falling over it, and smiled.

—Let’s see what this thing tastes like —she said, and stuck out her tongue.

She started by licking me slowly from the balls to the head, one long flat stroke of her tongue that made me clench my teeth. She repeated the route three, four times, soaking me in saliva, sucking each ball one by one, taking them into her mouth. Then she took my dick with both hands, lifted it, and shoved it into her mouth in one go. Her full lips stretched around the head, swallowed a third of my cock, and stopped there, unable to take any more. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply through her nose, and started sucking.

At first slowly, one hand moving to the rhythm of her mouth and the other holding my balls, pampering them. Her tongue circled the head every time it came up, and every now and then she pulled back completely to spit on me and take me in again, deeper each time. I, having never felt anything like it, had to brace myself against the tiles so I wouldn’t fall. When I opened my eyes and looked at her, I saw her looking up at me with my dick in her mouth and one hand between her own legs, touching herself. She was coming while she ate me.

—Fuck, Pilar, you’re going to kill me —I managed to say.

She answered by speeding up. She had no mercy left now: her hand went up and down fast, her mouth sucked hard, making that filthy wet sound, and every so often she’d pull back completely to suck my balls again or lick my frenulum with the tip of her tongue. I grabbed her head with both hands, squeezed her wet hair between my fingers, and started fucking her mouth slowly.

I didn’t last long. Within minutes I felt it rising, felt my balls tightening against my body, and knew there was no turning back.

—I’m coming, Pilar, I’m coming —I told her under my breath, both hands in her wet hair.

She sped up, pulled it out for a second to tell me “swallow all this,” and shoved it back into her mouth as far as it would go. When I came it was as if the whole weight of that year of fantasies discharged at once. My first spurt blasted to the back of her throat, and the next three or four she swallowed one after another, never letting go of my cock, sucking every drop. When I started coming down, she pulled off, looked up at me, and the last burst ran over her lips and chin, spilling two thick drops of semen that hung there. She stuck out her tongue, wiped her mouth with her finger, and swallowed the whole lot. Then she laughed, wiping her face with the back of her hand under the stream of water.

—How long had you been holding all that in, kid?

—Since you moved into the neighborhood —I confessed without thinking—. Every night, thinking about you. Every night, jacking off thinking about your tits.

Something changed in her face when she heard that. She turned off the tap, we got out of the shower and dried off halfheartedly with the same towel, never taking our eyes off each other. My cock, which had barely gone down, was getting hard again.

—You twenty-year-olds —she murmured, looking at it—. Come on, you’re not going to leave here frustrated.

***

She took me by the hand to the bedroom and lay down on the bed on her back, spreading her legs so I could get on top of her. I was eager, full of twenty-year-old heat, and she noticed.

—Easy, no rushing —she said, stroking my face—. Slowly. Good things are enjoyed slowly.

She pushed me down by the shoulders, guiding me without saying a word. I understood instantly. I slid between her legs, lifted her hips with my hands, and pressed my tongue to her cunt. She was soaked, so wet that the saliva from before and her juices mixed in my mouth. I spread her lips with my fingers and started eating her out completely: I ran my tongue over her whole slit, from bottom to top, unhurried, tasting her. She let out a long gasp and dug her heels into my back.

I focused on the clit, that swollen little button peeking out between the folds. I sucked it slowly at first, playing with the tip of my tongue, then I hooked my lips around it and started sucking it like she had sucked my cock. I slid in two fingers, then three, looking for that spot deep inside with my fingertips, pressing upward while I kept sucking her clit. Pilar gripped the sheets, moaned without being able to hide it, her back arching off the mattress. I slid my middle finger into her ass, up to the knuckle, and her moan broke off abruptly.

—Yes, yes, like that, don’t stop —she panted, covering her mouth with one hand—. I’m coming, boy, I’m coming.

She came with her mouth open and her legs closing around my head, squeezing my temples with her thighs. I felt the whole shudder running through her body, the spasms in her tongue, the way everything clenched around my fingers. I kept licking her until she pulled away laughing, unable to take any more.

—Come here, come here —she said, tugging my hair upward—. Put it in already, I need it inside me.

I climbed over her body, sucking her breasts along the way. I stopped at each nipple, nibbled them, sucked them like a little boy. She took my cock, hard again and dripping, and guided me with her hand, rubbing the tip against her pussy, letting me feel how hot and wet she was before letting me in. I pushed slowly, very slowly, as she wanted, and felt her opening around my dick, felt her yielding little by little. The first inch. The second. She breathed deep, clutching my arms, eyes closed.

—Fuck, so thick, so thick —she whispered—. Easy, baby, easy, you’re going to break me.

When I got to the bottom, I stayed still for a moment, propped on my elbows, my dick buried to the balls. I could feel her tightening around me, pulsing around me. I kissed her mouth, long and deep, while I began to move. At first short strokes, half a handspan, going in and out slowly so she could get used to it. She set the rhythm, whispering in my ear not to rush, to let her feel everything, that it had been years since anyone had fucked her like that.

Little by little, the pace got away from both of us. I grabbed one leg and lifted it onto my shoulder, and from there I started pounding her to the hilt, long slow thrusts. I could see her cunt opening around my dick, how it came out shiny with her juices and went back in. She looked up at me from below, biting her lip, her breasts bouncing with each удар.

—Turn me over —she panted—. I want it doggy-style.

I pulled out, she got on all fours, and shoved her ass out in front of my face. I looked at that swollen red cunt, stretched open, and the little puckered ass right above it. I grabbed her hips and drove into her in one stroke to the hilt. Pilar bit the pillow to keep from shouting and waking half the stairwell. I started fucking her hard, slamming her hips against her ass, watching all that flesh jolt with every thrust. I slipped my thumb into her ass while I was fucking her, and she let out a muffled cry against the pillow.

—Harder, harder, like that, fuck, like that —she moaned—. Break me, kid, break me.

I smacked one cheek, then another, then another, until my handprint was left red on her skin. I grabbed her hair, pulled it back, and arched her spine so I could get in deeper. Everything inside me tightened, her cunt clamping down around my cock like a fist, and I felt her come again, trembling all over, moaning words that no longer made sense.

I laid her on her back again and spread her legs wide open. She stretched her arms toward me, pulled me to her mouth, and whispered:

—Come inside, come inside, because today I can.

I started pounding her to the core, faster and faster, hearing the wet sound of our bodies crashing together. I was sucking her tits, biting her neck, fucking her mouth with my tongue. When I could hold back no more, a cry escaped her that I had to silence with a kiss, because it would have been heard from the street. I followed a couple of thrusts later: I felt everything rise up from my balls, clenched my teeth, and emptied the biggest loads of my life inside her. Spurt after spurt, five or six, without pulling out, while she hugged me with her legs crossed over my ass, keeping me from moving.

When I finally came out, a thread of semen mixed with her juices slipped from her cunt and ran down to the crease of her ass, soaking the sheet.

Later she confessed to me that she hadn’t come like that in years, that she could hardly remember the last time someone had treated her like that morning. She lay on the bed, still breathless, legs open, her cunt swollen and her hair tousled, with a loose smile that made me feel, for the first time in my life, that I had really become a man.

We got under the shower again to wash off the sweat. I loved washing her, running my soapy hands over her breasts, over her ass, slipping my fingers between her legs to “clean her pussy properly” while she laughed and bit my shoulder. She returned the favor by kneeling again and cleaning my dick with her mouth, sucking me until the last drop I had left inside. She was the first woman’s body I had really touched, without rushing, learning every inch, and she let me explore it with a patience I’ve never forgotten.

She was getting turned on again, with my dick in her mouth again, when by pure chance she glanced at the watch on her wrist. It was past one. Bernardo could show up at any moment. I dressed in a hurry, my heart still racing and my underwear stuck to how wet everything was down there, and before I left she grabbed my arm.

—If I find out you go back to jacking off thinking about me, I’ll kill you —she said half joking, half serious, grabbing my dick over my pants—. For that, you’ve got me, right next door, whenever you need it. This piece of meat is mine now, got it?

And did I ever take her at her word. During the months that followed, until life gradually separated us, I crossed that landing more times than I can count, already half hard before I even rang the bell. My mother, who wasn’t stupid either, ended up suspecting something, and one day she only told me to be very careful Bernardo didn’t catch us.

But that one, that first morning, the one with the lamp and the shower and the bed undone in half-light, was the one that truly changed everything. What came after, the second time, when we went quite a bit further than what happened that day, when she first tried having me put it in her ass and we discovered she liked that even more than from the front, is another story. And I promise it’s worth telling too.