Inviting My Neighbor, Things Get Wetter Than Expected

I stretched, barely able to push the close button on the hatch of the car, my hands full of heavy grocery bags. I had decided I was going to start cooking more—a decision my arms were quickly regretting as I looked at the three staircases climb to my apartment.

Rain pelted me as I crossed the parking lot, partially drenching my shirt. It picked up, thrashing against the open windows in the stairwell with a bitter cold.

“Damned keys,” I heard from the hallway as I climbed the last stair. My neighbor stood outside his door, the one across from mine, fumbling at his backpack. He turned when he heard me. “Sorry,” he said.

“If it weren’t for these damned bags,” I said in kind, “I might have been offended.” He smiled, then turned frustrated at his pack. I reached a hand for my keys, coming short.

“Do you need a hand with those bags?” he asked, extending an arm toward the bags. I noticed the arm that wasn’t outstretched was slung across his chest in a sling.

“And break your other arm?” I jested, then trying to point with my chin. “If you could hand me my keys though—"

He nodded with clear confusion, not seeing a pocket on my pants, and pointing at my purse. “In your purse?”

“Um—” I grinned, “actually on the edge of my waistband.” I tried to lean to pull my shirt up, but it wasn’t enough. “They are just on my hip if you don’t mind—um—reaching beneath my shirt and pulling at the waistband. The woes of yoga pants.”

That made him laugh, grabbing the keys as careful as he could. “Is it—this one?” he asked, selecting a key. When I nodded, he unlocked my apartment and pushed open the door slightly, then set the keys in one of the grocery bags.

“Thanks!” I said pushing the door open with my shoe and setting down the bags. “I don’t think we have actually met?”

“I’m Rob,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Steph,” I said, shaking his hand gently so as not to hurt his arm. “Is that recent?”

“Sprained it yesterday,” he said, shifting is slowly in the sling. “Still getting used to it.”

“Well thanks again for the door,” I said.

“No problem,” he replied, then turned away.

When I closed the door, I stayed a moment longer, watching as he dug through his pack. He fumbled at his phone, then crouched along the edge of the door. It was clear he lost his keys, and I felt bad just letting him sit there in the cold.

I opened my door. “Hey,” I said. “Lose your keys?”

“Left them at my girlfriends house,” he sighed, looking to his phone. “And—she isn’t replying.”

Girlfriend, I thought. “Do you want to come in? So you don’t have to wait out here?”

His eyes drifted from me to the apartment, back to his phone, then back at me. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all! Its freezing out here. Plus, you’ll owe me one,” I jested, holding open the door.

He stood at the threshold, patiently waiting for me to give him some type of direction.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I said, picking up the grocery bags and taking them to the kitchen. “Sit on the couch, at the table, on the floor, wherever.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. You hungry?”

“I wouldn’t dare impose—” he began.

“A bit to eat isn’t imposing,” I interrupted him. “Besides, I was just going to put together a grilled chicken salad. I always overdo it anyways, so you can help me not have extras?”

“You’re too nice,” he said.

I shivered as I put away a can of orange juice in the freezer. “It is actually kind of selfish of me if you think about it,” I jested. When I turned around, I caught him glances at my chest. My shirt had gotten wetter than I had thought, tight around my breasts. Oh no, I thought, noting the distinctly pointed nipples at the tips of my budding breasts. I probably should have put a bra on before going out.

Rob looked at his phone before looking up. “Is there anything I can do at least to help?”

“Relax a bit,” I said, waving to a chair, “I’ll let you figure out your key problem first.” After I put the rest of the groceries away I changed into a dry shirt before starting on dinner. Rob sat patiently, huffing to himself every so often.

My phone started to vibrate on the counter halfway through cutting up the raw chicken. Kayla’s calling. “Do you mind if I take this?” I asked.

“Not at all,” Rob insisted.

I answered the call with the side of my finger, pushing the speaker button as I was unable to hold my phone to my ear. “Hey Kayla,” I said casually.

“So—,” she began excitedly, “why is it that Bron’s younger brother has the distinct impression that you sucked his cock when he delivered a pizza—"

“Ahh—” I interrupted, my cheeks flashing red. “Right now isn’t the best time to talk about that—”

“So you did swallow his cock?” Kayla gasped. “To his credit, he was hesitant to tell me, and a little giddy. And here I am shocked—shocked that you didn’t tell me!”

“Can I call you back later?” I asked panicked. “I currently have a guest and you are on speaker,” I whispered.

“Oh—who is it?” she asked in a loud whisper.

“The guy from across the hall, Rob,”

“Oh the one that you said was wildly attractive—” started Kayla.

“Ah!” I yelped, frantically ending the call before she could say anything else that would embarrass me further. Not that she could. In my periphery, Rob was silently on his phone, scrolling back and forth as if he hadn’t been listening.

I coughed a little bit, thinking of what to say. I decided to turn on some music when I couldn’t find the words. I finished preparing the rest of the meal in silence, which was pretty fast, then sat down across from Rob.

“That looks great,” he said as I set down the plate for him. “Thank you again, for letting me hangout here. And feeding me.”

“Don’t thank me until you have tried it,” as I stabbed a piece of chicken with my fork. “Any luck with your keys?”

“Not yet.” He fiddled with his fork. “But even so, my girlfriend lives an hour and a half away. And if the keys are in her car, or she isn’t home, I don’t know—” He looked at me. “Sorry, don’t mean to complain.”

I looked out the window at the growing night. It was already getting late, and the rainstorm as strong as it had been since it started. “I’d be complaining more than you. I am sure she will answer soon enough.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, then grinned. “So is it true what your friend said?”

My cheeks burned bright red. “Well—sort of—but it was only because I was super hungry, and I grabbed the wrong purse and so I didn’t have my card—and well I kind of had a thing with his older brother—”

“No, about finding my wildly attractive?” he laughed.

I buried my face in my hands. “Oh! Um. Well that is a bit forward of you!”

“Says the girl who just confessed to seducing the—pizza boy?”

“I regret that you heard that part,” I smiled.

“Well I think you’re cute,” he said, “and very kind.”

“It really no problem,” I said. Did he just flirt with me?

We talked casually until we had both finished eating, then I told him to just relax on the couch while I cleaned up what few dishes there were. It was getting late by the time I put the last dish away, going to my bedroom to change into comfier cloths; some calf high socks, spandex shorts, and an oversized shirt that could have been a short dress.

“Any luck?” I asked, pulling my hair into a ponytail as I came into the living room.

“Not yet,” he said, “but if I have overstayed my welcome, please, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

“I was going to say you can crash here tonight, if you need,” I said. I pulled a few blankets from a nearby basket, putting them on the corner of the couch. “I would feel terrible about sending you out in the rain, anyways.”

“I really appreciate it. How can I repay you?”

“Pretend you never heard that conversation earlier,” I grinned, “and I’ll consider us even.”

“Deal.”

I took a wrong step, slipping on the edge of my sock, slightly twisting my ankle. I yelped.

“You alright?” Rob asked.

“Yeah, just my ankle. I stepped on it wrong when I went out for a run. Flexes weird every so often.”

“I could look at it if you want?”

“My ankle?”

“I am a physical therapist,” he said proudly. “Does it happen often?”

“Randomly, it seems,” I said, sitting on the couch next to him.

He turned his knees toward me. “Here,” he said, patting his thigh. “Ankles are tricky.”

I swallowed unexpectedly. I scooted closer, then put my ankle on his leg. He gently pulled off my sock, setting it aside. My heart started to beat a little quicker. He had such a soft touch as he held my ankle. “Tell me where it gets tense,” he said.

He held my bare foot in his hand, rotating it slowly. “There,” I said possibly a bit too loudly.

Little by little he massaged my foot. It felt like he was teasing me. I had to fight to control my breathing before it got out of hand. I felt my limp cock pulse in my tuck.

“Stop,” I said abruptly. “Sorry, that feel really good, it is just—a little too good.”

“I don’t understand,” Rob questioned.

“It’s just that—well I have this, thing—I am usually only barefoot when I am engaging in—um—sexual activities,”

“Oh,”

“Its weird, I know, it is just sort of my—turn on.” I slipped my sock back on. “Thank you for checking my ankle, though.”

“I didn’t feet anything concerning. I could give you a stretch or two that could help.”

“Thanks,” I said, flexing my toes in my sock. I got up and went to the kitchen. “I think I am going to have a little wine. Do you want any?”

“I wouldn’t say no,” he said coyly. I poured a couple glasses, putting the blankets between us on the couch. I don’t want to get overly stirred up.

“And it isn’t weird,” he said as I handed him a glass. “Having a foot fetish, that is. Well, a little odd,”

“Well thanks,” I laughed.

“I only mean to say that there are plenty of stranger fetishes. Trust me.”

“Oh?” I asked, suddenly curious. “And what makes you think that?”

It was him that blushed this time. “Forget I said anything,” he teased.

“No, really, tell me. Do you have an odder fetish?” I joked.

“A bit, yes, but that is all I am going to say,” he teased.

“Fine,” I said patting his leg, “know my secrets, but don’t tell me yours.”

He stayed quiet, spinning the glass of wine. I could feel the wine starting to settle in my stomach with a warmth that loosed my tongue, and ignited something inside of me. He smiled at me, then stood to stand at the balcony door. The shades were pulled open, and it was dark enough now that I could see into a few other apartments that did not have their shades closed.

We continued to talk, drinking more wine, and idly watching the storm outside. As the hours passed, slowly we slid closer and closer to one another. Before I knew it we were kissing, me carefully leaning away from his arm, and his hand up my shirt squeezing at my boobs.

I put my hand in his lap, slowly working up his leg.

“Wait,” he said, pulling away.

“Sorry,” I said, “I shouldn’t have—”

“Lay back and put your feet in my lap.”

“What?” I asked.

He carefully grabbed my ankles and I slid back onto the couch, my feet in his lap. My heart pounded as he took off my socks, running his fingers over the arch of my foot, then along my smooth heel. He kissed along my ankle, then ran his tongue along my toes.

I gasped with excitement. It was so simple. Such a small thing. And it felt so good. Slowly he licked along my soles, occasionally sucking on my toes. I sat back, closing my eyes and enjoyed every moment. After awhile he set my feet down in his lap. I was panting.

“Did you like it?” he asked.

“Like it?” I gulped. “That was incredible.” I spun around and got on my knees at the edge of the couch, wedging between his legs. His eyes went wide and nervously smiled as I started unbuckled his belt. “Now you have to tell me your fetish.”

“I—um—,” he whispered as I undid the button on his pants, though struggled with the zipper. I looked up at him, his pants half open in front of me. I could see his bulging cock beneath his boxers, just waiting for me to take it out.

“You just did something for me that not a lot of people are in to doing,” I whispered. “Let me at least try to repay the favor.”

“I have—um—a fetish—”

“Yes?” I urged. I gripped the waistband of his boxers, feeling his cock with the tips of my fingers. “If you say it, I’ll try it—deal?”

“It is a—swallowing fetish,” he said.

“Like cum swallowing?” I asked.

“Actually—piss swallowing,” he said nervously.

“Oh,” I said, pursing my lips as I thought. “Hmm.” I grabbed his boxers, wiggling them down his legs to reveal his cock. “Let’s try it!”

“Really?” he asked excitedly.

I tossed his pants and boxers to the side, slipping out of my shirt. I leaned his, grabbing his cock and pressing it against my bare chest. His cock was a little smaller than I expected, able to grip it completely with just one hand. In some ways I prefer smaller cocks, so I didn’t mind one bit.

I pressed the tip of his cock against my tongue. “Really,” I whispered. I sucked his cock, taking him completely in my mouth. I pushed my tongue out as I took his shaft deeper, running it along the base of his balls. “How do you want to start?”

“I—might need to be standing.”

I edged backwards on my knees to give him enough space to stand. I realized that the balcony blinds were still open, and enough lights were on in my apartment that anyone could see in. The thought of someone watching kind of turned me on, so I left them open.

He held his cock in my direction. I got comfortable on my knees, stroking him, and looking up at him. “Do you want me to be blowing you when you start?”

He nodded.

I put his cock in my mouth, gently taking him in and out. I kept my pace slow so that he didn’t get too distracted. His eyes were closed when I looked up at him, and he seemed focused. And then his expression changed, and I felt it.

Piss squirt in the back of my throat and I almost gagged. I kept sucking as my mouth filled. It wasn’t that bad, like a saltier and wetter cum. I tilted my head back and parted my lips so that he could see it filling my mouth. He watched eagerly.

I swallowed the first mouthful, shivering as I felt the warmth of his piss in my stomach. A bit of the stream splashed off my lip, dripping off my chin, and down along my boobs. I reached up and spread the piss along my body.

I kept sucking as he continued to piss, swallowing a second time. I gasped for air, opening my mouth wide and letting him piss from a distance. It sounded like a cup being filled with water. I swallowed again as it spilled over my lips.

I gripped his cock at the base, feeling the stream getting weaker as I held the tip in my mouth. I opened my mouth and showed him, gargling before swallowing the last bit. My cheeks and chest weren’t as wet as I had feared, only a little bit of piss dripping down my body.

He stood there breathing heavily, hand resting on the top of his head.

“Did you like it?” I asked, lightly burping up piss. “Sorry.”

“That was amazing,” he said. He guided me to the couch, having me kneel on the cushions. With my ass toward him, he pulled at my spandex shorts. He paused when my transgirl cock fell out.

“Is everything alright?” I asked nervously.

He leaned in, spreading my ass with one hand, and started eating my ass. I moaned as his tongue went into my asshole. He pushed a finger in. Then a second. I thought I saw someone in an adjacent apartment, but didn’t dare look.

I gasped as he pushed his cock completely into my ass in a single thrust. He held onto my hip, pounding me harder and harder into the couch. I could barely breath, let alone talk. And then he stopped suddenly.

He sifted through his pants pocket, pulling out his phone with wide eyes. He took a few deep breaths to settle himself, then answered with a surprising calm.

“Hey Lucila,” he whispered.

The girlfriend, I thought. I crawled off the couch, pulling at his hips and guiding him to sit down. “Yeah I think they are in your car,” he said, half distracted but sitting down. I slid between his legs, laying my head beside his cock and looked up at him.

“No—luckily a neighbor is letting me hangout,” he said.

I took his cock in my mouth, still looking up at him. He winced with pleasure, and his voice cracked ever so faintly.

“Just the one across the hall,” he said. I pressed his cock down my throat as far as it could go. “No, no, she fell asleep already. I am just sitting on the couch.”

I raised an eyebrow in his direction, letting the spittle from my throat drip from my lips over his cock. He raised a finger in my direction, as if that would stop me.

“Mmhmm,” he said in the phone. I swirled my tongue around as I sucked faster. It was clear that he was having trouble focusing. I didn’t stop blowing him, our eyes locked as I gulped down his cock.

I felt his cock give a familiar pulse. He grabbed my ponytail, shoving his cock down my throat. I coughed as he shot cum down my throat, feeling it throbbing in my mouth. He let go and I pulled away with a gasp. Cum was dripping from my lips and down my chin, with a few strands hanging from the tip of his cock to the base of my lips.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, “I had to cough.”

I smiled and shook my head, slurping up the cum.

“Alright,” he said, “that would be great, I’ll wait up for you then. Okay, see you then,” he said, then ended the call.

“She is bringing your keys, then?” I asked, slowly stroking his semi limp cock.

He rubbed his eyes and sighed, then smiled. “She is bringing my keys.”

“And—you said she lived an hour and a half away?” I asked coyly.

“Yeah?” he replied. “Why?”

“Because I want you to keep cumming in my mouth until your balls are empty,” I whispered. His cock got firmer as I put my lips around it. He leaned back into the couch as I rested my elbows on his knees. I wonder how many more times I can make him cum before she gets here, I thought. I felt his cock pulse, and warm cum spill onto my tongue. Only one way to find out.