My Neighbor Had Gone Four Years Without Being Touched

—Not now, Remedios. If you want me to really fuck you, you have to beg.

You move a palm’s width away from her face, letting your cock remain there, in plain sight, throbbing centimeters from her mouth.

—You have to say it clearly: “Please, Rubén, fuck me.” And then: “I’ll be whatever you want.” If you don’t say it exactly like that, I’ll pull my pants up and leave. I’ll leave you here alone, with your cunt wet and your ass red, waiting for Bernardo to come back with the beers.

Silence. Only her ragged breathing and the ticking of the living room clock can be heard. She swallows, looks at your cock, then the empty hallway, then back at you again. A tear of pure tension slips down her cheek and she doesn’t wipe it away. She bites her lower lip hard, her chest rising and falling beneath the blouse buttoned one too many times open.

She stays quiet for a few seconds that seem endless. Then her voice comes out hoarse, trembling but clear, a whisper that grows stronger:

—Please… Rubén… fuck me. Fuck me hard, like no one’s ever fucked me. I’ll be whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you tell me, whenever you tell me, wherever you tell me. Just… put it in me already… I can’t take it anymore.

The last words come out broken, almost a sob of relief. She spreads her legs wider, leans back on the sofa, hikes her skirt all the way up and parts herself with two fingers: lips parted, all pink and shiny, begging for it. Her ass, still red from the spanking, contrasts with the pale skin of her thighs.

—Rubén… please… I’m yours.

***

You step forward, cock in hand, aiming straight for that mature opening that’s been waiting years for something like this. You lay her on her back, legs open and raised over your shoulders so she’s fully exposed. Remedios breathes fast, her nipples hardening under the thin fabric, her curly hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, her glassy eyes looking at you pleadingly.

You place the tip at her entrance. Her lips part on their own from the wetness. You push slowly, just the head, and you already feel what you suspected: she’s painfully tight, clamped down from so little use. The walls resist, closing around you like a hot fist, forcing you to go in centimeter by centimeter. She lets out a long, muffled moan.

—Fuck… slowly… it’s… it’s too much… you’re opening me up…

You push halfway in and stop, letting her get used to it. She trembles all over, nails digging into your arms, her legs shaking over your shoulders. Barely moving, you ask the question directly, in a low voice:

—How many guys have you fucked in your life, Remedios?

She closes her eyes, turns her face to one side, and doesn’t answer. She just pants, biting her lip until it goes white. Pure shame: the kind neighbor she’s always been, the family woman, now with your cock halfway inside her.

You stop completely. You take her face in one hand and force her to look at you. You give her a small, sharp slap on the cheek, just enough to make it sound and leave her skin pink for a second. Her eyes fly wide open, a gasp of surprise escapes her, but she doesn’t get angry: on the contrary, her cunt tightens hard around you, as if the blow had turned her on even more.

—Answer me. How many?

—Only… only Bernardo —she whispers, embarrassed—. I haven’t done it with anyone in more than four years. Not even him. He can’t even get it up… and he doesn’t even try anymore.

The words come out with her face burning from humiliation, but saying it makes her cunt squeeze again and a hot trickle wets you. She’s confessing her dry spell with you inside her, and that turns her on even more.

***

You smile slowly. You start moving again, thrusts deeper now, hitting bottom with every push, feeling that overused cunt opening around you.

—Four years without a cock and now I’m the one tearing you open. Look at you, begging me, while your drunk husband goes down to get beers. You like it when the young neighbor fucks you, huh?

She nods frantically, speechless now, only moans. Her chest bounces with every thrust, the sofa creaks. Her cunt has already stretched just enough to take you all the way in, but it still clamps like a glove every time you pull out and drive back in. You give her another soft slap on the other cheek, just to hear her moan louder, and you speed up.

—Tell me you’re mine. Say it again.

You slow down again, inch by inch, unhurried, because that cunt has been in a drought for four years and needs to learn to swallow you. Remedios can’t even handle five slow thrusts. With her eyes wide open and her mouth a silent “o,” she starts trembling all over. The orgasm rises from her feet, runs up her legs, and tightens around your cock. She comes without screaming, only a hoarse moan between her teeth. Her eyes roll back, her head falls against the backrest. She’s gone, lost in a pleasure she’d forgotten.

***

You look at her like that, surrendered, and decide to play a little more. You have her pinned against the backrest and start taking off her blouse, button by button. Underneath she’s wearing a big white bra, the kind people have always worn, with lace already worn thin. You rip it open and her breasts fall free: heavy, with large dark nipples, a little sagged with age but still firm. You go after them like your life depends on it, tongue circling, sucking hard, nibbling softly, alternating.

—Fuck, Rubén… no one’s sucked them like this in… years…

Without pulling out, you get up from the sofa with her in your arms. Your cock stays inside, all the way to the hilt. She clings to your neck, legs around your waist, her chest crushed against yours. You hold her under the ass, still red from the spankings, and walk with her through the living room toward the terrace. The sliding door is half open and the Valencia night comes in cool, the lights of the buildings across the street flickering.

She suddenly realizes and starts shaking her head.

—No… please… not the terrace… they could see us… the neighbors…

But while she says it, her cunt clenches again and another orgasm surges quickly. She comes again, trembling in your arms. Every step you take makes her bounce on your cock, driving it deeper. You press her against the railing, with her back to the street, and fuck her standing up, slow but firm, so she feels every inch. Down below, the street is almost empty, but anyone leaning out or going out for a smoke could see you.

—Don’t stop —she whispers between moans, hugging your neck—. Even if they see us, don’t stop. I’m yours.

***

You take her back and seat her astride you, your cock buried to the hilt in a cunt already stretched and soaked from so many orgasms. Her face is a mess: smeared makeup, saliva, tears of pleasure, glassy eyes looking at you like you’re the only real thing.

Suddenly you lift her by the hips and pull out slowly. Your cock comes out shining, covered in her thick wetness. She lets out a cry of emptiness. Taking advantage of all that natural moisture, you place the tip right at her asshole. Tight, dark, almost virgin as far as you can tell. You push in just the head, slow, firm, without warning. It doesn’t go in much, barely a few centimeters, but enough for the ring to open all at once.

Remedios lets out a shrill scream that echoes through the living room.

—Ah! No! Fuck!

Her right hand flies up and gives you a sharp slap on the cheek. Not very hard, but it sounds clear and leaves your skin hot. You stay still, the tip still inside her ass, staring at her fixedly.

—What the hell are you doing, Remedios? —you say, low, calm, edged.

She turns to stone. The hand that hit you freezes in the air, her eyes wide, horror on her face. Her whole body stiffens as she realizes what she’s done. She lowers her hand slowly, trembling, and starts stammering, almost crying:

—Sorry… sorry, Rubén… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… it hurt so much… take it out… it hurts…

She’s truly begging now, fresh tears mixing with the makeup. Her ass spasms around your tip, squeezing and releasing, as if fighting between pain and the memory of pleasure. She doesn’t pull away completely: her legs are still open, her hands on your shoulders. And, once again, her body betrays her: a thread of fresh wetness slips down her thigh.

***

You don’t pull out yet. You stroke her cheek, gently, almost tenderly, and speak softly to her.

—Easy. It’s fine. But next time you hit me, I’ll tie your hands and fuck your ass until you beg me to stop. Do you want me to take it out now, or to put it in slowly until you get used to it?

She squeezes her eyes shut tight, a tear falling.

—Take it out… it hurts… but don’t go… don’t leave me like this… fuck my cunt again… or whatever you want… but not the ass… not yet…

You grab her by the shoulders, firmly, and start lowering her slowly onto your cock. The tip opens that tight ring, which resists. She cries for real now, thick tears running down her cheeks, black streaks of mascara to her chin.

—Rubén… it hurts so much… I can’t… it won’t go in…

But you don’t stop. You keep driving in, relentlessly, centimeter by centimeter. You force her to open wider than she’s used to, the walls stretching, hot, resisting every millimeter. She kicks weakly in the air, nails dug into your forearms, but she isn’t really resisting: her own weight lowers her bit by bit. When your balls finally slap against her ass, she lets out a muffled scream that turns into a long sob. Her body goes rigid, her ass clenching around you as if it wants to expel you and swallow you at the same time.

You look her in the eyes, your voice cold.

—The sooner you make me cum three times, the sooner I take it out. But the work is yours. I’m not moving. You fuck me with your ass. Or you stay like this until Bernardo comes back and catches us.

***

She stays still for a second, sobbing. The pain is obvious: her face contorted, the tears constant. But underneath there’s something else: her cunt is dripping again, a hot stream sliding down her thighs. She swallows, closes her eyes, and starts moving. At first just a tiny sway, barely a few centimeters, crying with every rise. Her ass begins to relax with the motion, the pain mixing with a new sensation that makes her moan between sobs.

—Forgive me… I’m going to make you cum… don’t leave me like this…

She speeds up, going up and down more, the rhythm more constant, more desperate, as if she wants to finish as fast as possible. Or as if she’s starting to like it despite the pain.

—Faster —you order—. Or you won’t even make it to the first one before your husband gets back.

She sobs harder, but obeys. She goes up and down with more force, her ass opening better, grudgingly adapting. Through tears and moans:

—It hurts… but… fuck… I’m coming again…

And yes: her cunt comes again without you touching it, while her ass clamps down on you like a vise. She’s gone, crying and cumming at the same time, moving on pure instinct.

***

She manages to make you cum twice: the first time with her mouth, after getting off you and sucking you like desperate; the second inside her ass, while she writhed and came yet again. Now comes the third. She’s exhausted, her body trembling, her ass red and swollen, her face a mess of tears and makeup. She goes up and down more slowly, almost without strength, but she doesn’t stop: she knows this is the last one.

When you feel it coming again, you lift her by the hips and pull out with a slow jerk. The hole remains open for a second, contracting in the air. She lets out a moan of relief and pain.

—Thank you… thank you, Rubén…

You don’t answer. You lower her to the floor with a gentle push and put her on her knees on the rug, her face at the level of your cock. You start jerking off fast, aiming at her face. She opens her mouth, eyes closed, waiting. You come hard: the first spurts hit her all over the face, forehead, cheeks, lips; then you lower the angle and cover her chest, belly, thighs. You leave her marked from top to bottom, everything mixed with sweat, tears, and smeared makeup.

—Now clean my cock with your mouth. All of it.

Without hesitation now, she leans in and takes it into her mouth. She sucks slowly, tongue circling, moving down the shaft, licking away every last trace until it’s clean under the living room’s dim light. When she’s done, she stays kneeling there, panting, staring at the floor.

***

You pull your pants up and look around. The outlets she’d been asking you for weeks to fix: the one in the living room that flickers, the ones in the kitchen that trip. You point at them with your chin.

—Tell me where the tools are.

She gets up unsteadily, cum dripping down her chest, and takes you to a kitchen drawer. Screwdriver, pliers, electrical tape. In ten minutes you’ve fixed the three outlets, clean and safe. She watches you the whole time, covered in mess and trembling, not daring to clean herself.

—Now go to the bathroom —you say. She nods and takes a step, but you stop her with a hand on her arm—. No. You’re going to sleep like this all night, with my cum on you. And tomorrow, when I come down to fuck you again, you have to still be wearing it. Dry, stuck on, smelling like me.

Her eyes go wide.

—That’s impossible, Rubén… Bernardo… if he wakes up and sees me like this…

—Your husband comes home drunk, throws himself on the sofa, and snores until noon. He hasn’t touched or looked at you in more than four years. He won’t notice a thing.

She swallows, fresh tears in her eyes, but doesn’t argue anymore. She lowers her head. You give her a slap on the still-swollen ass.

—Take me to your bedroom. Now.

—I can’t anymore… I’m wrecked…

Another slap, harder.

—I said take me. Move.

***

She walks ahead of you down the hall, cum dripping down her legs, her ass swaying with every painful step. She enters the bedroom: a big bed with old-fashioned floral sheets, the smell of liquor and old sleep. Beside it, an open wardrobe. You point at the underwear drawer.

—Show me where everything is.

Trembling, she opens drawers: big cotton panties, reinforced bras, shapewear, stockings. Everything she uses to feel decent on the outside. You stuff it all into a couple of bags you find in the closet, leaving not a single garment behind. You go back to the living room for the bra you took off her before and that goes into the bag too. She’s left with nothing underneath from now on.

You step closer, take her chin, and spit right in her face. You smear it over her cheeks with your hand, mixing it with the dried cum.

—Don’t even think about cleaning yourself. Not a bit. Sleep like this, marked. Tomorrow I’ll come down when Bernardo goes out for bread… and I’ll fuck you again, with today’s cum still on you.

She nods, speechless now, only muffled sobs and a look of total submission in her eyes. You turn around, leave the apartment, lock the door with the key she’d given you earlier, and go back upstairs to yours. The building is silent. Tomorrow will be another day.