The Sexy Hunk Next Door - 3

I don't even know how long I've been laying here now, staring up at the stupid ceiling. Could've been ten minutes, could've been two hours for all I care.

His laugh… it was still coming from downstairs, kinda faint but still there, still crawling into my head like it had no business being there.

What the hell did I just do?

I kept asking myself that over and over like somehow the answer was gonna change if I thought about it long enough. But I was wrong, it didn't change. It just made me feel even more stupid.

Everything felt kinda blurry, like it wasn't even real until I blinked and… yeah, this was definitely real. That heaviness in my chest, that weird guilty feeling mixed with something else I didn't even want to name.

I rolled over and pulled the blanket tighter but my brain just wouldn't shut up. It wouldn't take the hint that I wanted this thinking to stop, to end.

I struggled even more, twisted and turned from side to side and before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep without meaning to.

An hour or two drifted by, or maybe even lesser, maybe minutes drifted by but it felt longer, and then… I woke up. I didn't even hear anything creeping or creaking around, I just… felt it. That feeling that someone was staring at you, that suddenly urge to turn or look around. And so when I did, I saw—Him.

Standing there. It was the neighbor.

He stood, just watching me like he'd been there a while. I didn't even get to say a word before he just… turned and walked out like nothing happened.

The door didn't slam or anything, it was quiet, but my pulse was still all over the place.

He was trouble and I knew it. The way my body responded to his presence, the way it reacted to that stare, gosh—it was ridiculous. My stomach was tight, my skin felt hot, and I hated that I even noticed.

Then seconds later, my boyfriend came back, walking into the room all casual and stuff. When his eyes landed on me on the bed, his hungry gaze widened and he leaned down, started kissing me, touching me before I could even consent.

He lips found mine in a heated kiss, his tongue already sliding into mine while my head kept flashing images of the neighbor on me. His hand roamed up my body, sliding by my waist and ribs before his fingers found my nipples, pinching them hard.

I moaned, imagining it was in his mouth and arched into his touch. My skin felt lit, like it was on fire. The way he squeezed hard on my breasts had me curling my toes and moaning.

His hands slid down like they always do and I tried, I really tried, to focus on him but my head just… went somewhere else.

Went to him. His huge frame hovering over me in the best ways.

I could feel his hands sliding down my body, going to my pussy and rubbing on the fabric of my panties. It was too much sensation now, too much to handle and too much images playing on my mind all at once.

I immediately closed my eyes and stayed still. I had to fake it for him to stop. I had to pretend I was tired and had fallen asleep. But before I knew it, I actually did.

---

Morning came and I decided to go for a run. Maybe sweat would clear my head or something. It didn't.

Halfway down the block, I spotted him, running ahead of me, like some scene out of a movie. He hadn't seen me yet, so I should've just… looked away. But no.

My eyes stayed on him. On the way his back moved, the way his shirt stuck to him a little, the flex in his legs every time his foot hit the ground.

My heart was already going too fast from the run, but seeing him made it worse. And then—the memory from the previous day, of him standing in my room, looking at me like that… it just hit me all over again.

We ended up under the bridge, the air cooler there, and just when I thought maybe I'd keep running past him, he slowed down and suddenly turned. Then grabbed my wrist.

It wasn't gentle. He pulled me into the wall and I had to catch myself so I didn't hit it too hard.

"Why," he breathed out, "have you been staring at me since we left the house?"

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I couldn't even think of a lie. My chest felt tight, my brain felt like it was short circuiting. But what's worse, was how he knew I had been staring.

Seeing as I didn't reply, he stepped closer.

"You're shy now?" He asked, smirking. "That's not how you looked the first time we met."

I looked down, but that didn't help. He was right there.

Then he took my hand and before I even realized what was happening, and he pressed it against his crotch.

I froze, flinching.

He was hard.... And thick.

I tried but he didn't let me pull away, his hand closed over mine, making me feel every bit of it, and my breath just… hitched, like I forgot how to breathe for a second.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you," he leaned in and whispered near my ear, his voice all low and rough. "This is how you make me feel."

I felt like moving back, away from him and closer to the wall but I was already against it. He had me trapped here, had me squeezing on his cock and his eyes just stared at my reaction, commiting everything into memory.

"I..." I tried to speak but I didn't know what to say, I just squeezed on his cock instead, feeling it throb against my fingers.

What I'd give you know what this would feel like....