The Girl Next Door
JT Langdon

"Oh fuck! Yes!"

I'm at it again, first thing in the morning, on the bed, naked, spreading my legs like a two dollar whore and running the wand over my cuntlips. Though I miss having a lover this is better than any tongue I've ever had inside me. There are attachments for it; I've seen them in the Good Vibrations catalog, but I don't think I could survive them. The wand is addicting as is. I buzz it against my clit and almost scream with pleasure. It's that intense. Shit, the first time I used it I almost passed out. Now I can go five, even ten minutes before I come. I have been at it for seven minutes and am close to orgasm.

Then the fucking doorbell rings. Goddammit! Couldn't they have waited another minute? I think about not seeing who it is and finishing but I've lost my concentration and once I do not even the magic wand can pull that rabbit out of a hat again.

I switch off the wand with a grunt of frustration and get out of bed, covered in sweat, the first dribbles of come trickling down my thighs. That's how fucking close I was. I slip into my black silk kimono and tie the sash loosely around my not-so-slim waist, padding barefoot out of my bedroom and storming down the hall. I am pissed. It's Labor Day, for crying out loud. Don't people understand what that means? I want to be left alone. I want to be in bed with the wand against my pussy and come until I am so exhausted I fall asleep in a pool of sweat and juices. Is that too much to ask?

When I get to the door I am steaming. Unless the person standing out there is from Publisher's Clearing House and is holding an oversized novelty check for ten million dollars, their life isn't worth a cold, hard damn. I fling open the door with a string of curses on the tip of my tongue but my anger is soon forgotten.

I have never seen the woman before, but I want her bad. She is probably my age, that is, in her mid thirties, with a slight paunch, dressed in faded jeans and a sweater with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Her auburn hair is loose, resting on her shoulders, and I imagine running fingers through it while she goes down on me. I am so lost in lustful thought it takes me a moment to realize she is standing on the porch with Mama Cass, my Golden Lab. That shifts my gears.

"Cassie, what are you doing out there?" I say in a voice that belongs to my mother. I let Mama Cass in the house. When I turn back to the woman on the front porch she is checking me out. I realize how I must look, standing there in my kimono, hair mussed, smelling of sex. Our eyes meet. I am not one to blush but I do for her.

"Hi," she says.

I smile. "Hi. Where did you find her?"

"She was running around the street," she says.

"Well, I have no idea how she got out," I say. "Thanks for bringing her home."

"It was no trouble."

I lean against the door frame, feeling the cool September air slipping under my robe. "Do you live around here?"

"No, actually," she says with a lilt in her voice that makes me wet, "I'm visiting my aunt. She lives next door?"

"Oh, right," I say. The woman next door is nice enough, older than time, but she bakes me cookies at Christmas and we talk sometimes when she catches me coming and going. She and I get along just fine.

"She said the dog was yours, so I brought her over."

"Well, thanks again," I say to her when I really mean "I want to bury my face in your pussy."

"You're welcome," she says. "I guess I should go."

I am disappointed. But what did I expect? Then I blurt out, "But do you have to?"

"No," she says. Her smile tells me there is hope.

"Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?"

"I'd love to," she says.

I smile and let her inside. The house is even messier than I am but she doesn't seem to mind either of those facts and I am much too preoccupied with the shape of her backside to care. In the kitchen there is coffee made and (thank God) there are some croissants left over from Sunday brunch. I warm the croissants in the microwave and begin setting stuff down the table. I catch her looking me over more than once so I do nothing whenever the kimono hikes up and reveals my cunt. She tells me her name is Diane and though I want to ask, "Diane, do you know my pussy is wet for you?" I tell her my name is Kristy instead.

There is a connection between us from the start, and while our conversation is relaxed and full of laughter underneath it there is a sense of urgency, as if we are building toward something . . . heading somewhere. The chitchat is just a means to an end and when she reaches over and puts her hand on mine we both know where things will end.

I take Diane to the bedroom. The wand is on the night stand and when Diane sees it she kicks off her shoes, turns to me, and smiles.

"Did I interrupt you?" Diane asks.

"Yes," I say.

"How thoughtless of me."

I smile. "You can make up for it."

"Yes, I can."

Diane kisses me and that alone makes up for the interruption. But this is just the start of things between us. Her lips are softer than silk and I melt on the spot, moaning with a lifetime of desire for a woman I have known less than ten minutes. I slip my tongue into her mouth and she sucks on it. Then Diane's tongue finds mine and I am hers forever. She loosens the sash at my waist and the kimono falls open, leaving me open to her hands, which are soon on me. I moan between kisses as Diane slides her hands over my bare hips. Her touch is like fire and it burns me to the core. She moves her strong, determined hands to my breasts, cupping them, caressing them, her thumbs on my nipples. I have my hands on her ass and I paw at it through denim, lost in a rush of intense, blinding passion. Diane moves her hands upwards again, pushing the kimono off my shoulders. It gathers at my feet in a pool of black silk, leaving me naked and wanting Diane even more. The feel of her rough sweater against my bare breasts excites me no end but does not last long. She pulls off her sweater, and, with no bra underneath, her supple breasts press into mine. We kiss again. I fumble with the zipper of her jeans and get them open, pushing them down hips wider than mine and even more inviting. Diane steps out of her jeans and we are both naked at last.

I back into bed and pull Diane with me, rolling over and kissing her once she looks comfortable. She is flat on her back, I am up on my side, one leg draped over her thigh. Sometimes I can feel the wetness of her cunt and I whimper with need to be there, between her legs, eating her out. The kiss is soft and tender, slow at first but gaining momentum as our lust starts to boil. Our world is naked bodies, mouths, and hands, exploring each other with delicious patience. I slide my hand between her legs and test the waters, rubbing the outer lips of her pussy with the pads of my fingers. Diane arches off the bed with a moan of pleasure, in search of more, which I give her. I rub her pussy harder and faster, massaging her swollen clit, lightly enough to bring her pleasure but not vigorous enough to make her come. I want this to last.

Shifting position, I catch her nipple between my lips. The little pebble is wonderfully hard and I suck it ravenously, tracing the circumference of it with my tongue. I am latched onto her breast like a newborn and that is how I feel making love to a woman and not a vibrator for the first time in months. I am born again. Diane moans underneath me and I feel her getting wetter, the slickness of her juices coating the fingers I have tangled in her cunt. She is desperate to come.

I move down her with belly kisses until I am hovering over her pussy. She is sopping wet, her lips engorged with desire. There are few things more beautiful than a woman revealed and I bask in the sight of her for a long moment before putting my tongue where I've wanted it from the moment I opened the door and saw Diane standing there. I am soon lost in the taste of my new lover. She is sweet, leaning to wine, and I lap at her with hunger, fucking her with my tongue, wrenching gasps and moans and sharp cries from a woman who would have been a dream that morning. But the warmth of her is real and I nuzzle my face into her cunt, probing deeper and deeper, as far as I can go. Diane writhes beneath me, her pussy clenching like a fist as she approaches orgasm. I use two fingers to spread her cuntlips, exposing her clit fully to me so I can lash it with flicks of my tongue. It is the push Diane needs and she goes over the edge, erupting in orgasm, calling out my name before sinking deeper into the bed with a sigh.

When I crawl into Diane's arms she welcomes me with a kiss that leaves me weak. I would be content if we stopped now but the busy hands moving over me suggest things are far from over. Diane clutches my ass and squeezes a pitiful moan from me.

"I want you," Diane whispers in my ear.

I nod through a sexual haze and steal a kiss before moving up to straddle her face. Hot, ragged breath tickles my inner thighs and I hear Diane whimper. She puts both hands on my ass and when she pulls me to her I do not resist but settle onto her mouth with a sigh. Her tongue slithers inside me and lifts me close to Heaven. The wand never did that. Soon I am rocking back and forth, humping her face, grinding my pussy against her. Diane answers each thrust of my hips with her tongue, stabbing into the very heart of me. She drives me like a train toward climax and I fuck her face, needing to get off, and when she teases my asshole with the tip of her finger I do, hard, bouncing up and down with an excitement that borders on hysteria.

We lay under the covers afterwards, Mama Cass at our feet, snuggled together like lovers that can measure their life together in years not minutes. I stroke her breast, she teases my hair, and I wonder if it's too soon to fall in love.

"Aunt Nora and I are going to barbecue chicken for dinner," Diane tells me in a whimsical tone. "If you don't have any plans, I'd love for you to join us. Cassie, too."

I smile, kiss her, and accept the invitation.