The Guy Next Door - Part Two - Sex Stories

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The Guy Next Door - Part Two

Date: 9/18/2015, Categories: Reluctance, Author: SITTING, Rating: 51, Source: LushStories

and raw. He pretended to be disappointed. “You don’t know? No preferences? Nothing you particularly want me to do?” I shrugged lamely and he sighed. “Okay. I guess I’ll have to choose. But there are two rules, okay?” He eyed me sternly. “One – no screaming. I’ve had it with fucking screamers. Whatever you have to do, you do – not – scream, okay?” I nodded hurriedly. “And rule number two. You do not come before me. You wait until I’m done and then you come - if at all.” He frowned at me. “Got it? You happy with that?” “Yeah. I – I guess – that’s okay.” “Perfect.” His hand came out and pushed at one of my knees, making my legs part. There was no prelude with Cooper. With the other guys I’d been with, foreplay was the standard – anything sexual did not happen without it. I was accustomed to spending time touching, feeling, figuring things out. Cooper had no desire for such idle matters. His hand went directly to my snatch, and he caressed it roughly. He was watching my face, reading my reaction. I tried not to move. “Put your hands behind your back,” he instructed. “Lean on them. Further. Push your tits out.” His free hand grasped my ankle, forcing my legs further apart. His fingers were exploring my pussy, rubbing, stroking, squeezing. I was breathing hard all over again. I hung my head back and let out a sigh. “Remember rule number two,” he murmured. His hand stopped moving and then it was just one finger. One finger scraping back and forth, taunting me. He reduced it to ... just the very tip of his finger, tapping it against my clit. One goddamn fingertip. I was so wet, I was sure I would leave a puddle on the floor. Every part of my body began to rhythmically ache. I tried to shift my legs back together but Cooper held tight to my ankle. He flicked his fingertip against my clit. Every time it connected, an electric spark ran through my body. This wasn’t sex. This was an exquisite form of torture. His eyes watched me unblinkingly. “Close?” he breathed. “You come and you’re outta here. Remember that, neighbour.” I stared at him speechlessly, every part of me tense and clenched. Flick. Flick. Flick. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing hard. Do not come. Do not come. Whatever you fucking do, do not come . I could feel the heat pulsing through my body and I tried to steady my breathing. I tried to think about awful things, nuclear weapons and war and animal cruelty and – and – it was futile. I was in Cooper’s apartment and he was manipulating me like a master puppeteer. I couldn’t stop the urge, I couldn’t help it – surely, there was no way of stopping the orgasm. Then, miraculously, he stopped. His finger drew back and eased into my tight snatch. For a second I was relieved and then relief faded as he pushed in another finger, stretching me. I tried to remember the last time I’d had sex. Months and months ago. Maybe it had even been a year. So long. And he wasn’t being gentle about anything. Three fingers were crammed into my tight passage and he was ...