Thus begins a story of two neighbors and their friendship. There are scenes of one-on-one romantic sex (MF), group sex and bisexual sex (MM and FF). If this is not your thing, move on. Otherwise, enjoy, comment and vote.
It began on the January day she moved in. At some time around seven a.m., my doorbell rang. I was deep into Slumberland when I realized that this was not a dream and that the doorbell was really ringing. I stumbled out of bed, threw my robe on and opened the door.
"Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?"
A strange woman was asking me questions! "Yeah, you did. What can I do for you?"
She started babbling quickly; my fuzzy pre-coffee brain could hardly keep up. "I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm your new neighbor. I live next door. My name is Samantha. Sorry, I woke you. I'll catch up with you later." She turned and went into her apartment. I watched her nice ass in her black bicycle shorts. I closed my door.
My groggy head was trying to work out just what happened. Samantha? New neighbor? I walked down the hall to my bedroom and stripped off my robe. Walking into the bathroom, I took my morning leak and then went back to bed trying to process my new neighbor and her early schedule.
Since then, Samantha and I have become friendly although I kept her at arm's length for a long time. She's a bit nosy and in conversation with her, I am always guarded because...well, that's the way I am with nosy neighbors. I don't like to pry but, over the next few days, she told me that she was a widow, that she didn't know what to do with her life, that she would soon move into a waterfront condominium and like, who cares. Too much information. She was merely a tenant one door over, I only have to know her name to say hello. Nevertheless, she pried persistently, which I always deflected. I saw her occasionally when we both left our apartments at the same time to go somewhere. She always has a comment like "Where are you going?"; when we go to throw out garbage ("Got anything good in there?") or for any reason ("What's up? What are you doing? Where are you going?"). All these questions got on my nerves.
It's not that I'm a grumpy person, it's just that considering the life I lead, I'd rather be aloof to people who get into my business.
Having said all that, I must admit that she's a better-looking neighbor than the last one. Way softer on the eyes, too. I've checked her out quite a few times. She's probably in her forties and looking very good, trim and in shape. She not too tall, maybe five foot four, with curly black hair and kind of pretty. She's got a smoking body with just a few choice, extra pounds. She's always showing off her tits with her deep cleavage. To my trained eye, she's a c-cup. And although, she's eye candy, I still keep my distance. "Don't shit where you eat!" is a good rule to remember.
All of this changed in March when the Coronavirus pandemic hit. After three weeks of quarantine, I began to go stir crazy. I was walking in the park and along the beach, that is, until the municipality shut them down. Now, I was trapped in my apartment. I was eating too much and putting on weight. I was sleeping late every day. I was smoking too much (and spending a lot on pot). I was also masturbating like a maniac. It was obvious that I was soon to go nuts.
As March headed toward April, I began to wear a facemask that I sewed myself when I went out. I walked a lot and kept my distance from people. Basically, my trips were to the market, to the mailbox and just strolling in the outside air. There was nothing else to do and nowhere else to go.
I was heading into my apartment when Samantha came out of hers. Our relationship had developed into a nice neighborly one, sort of a cordial intimacy at a distance.
"So, what are you up to, Ray?"
"I'm just coming back from the mailbox, Sam. No mail. Don't know what to do now...I think I'll read for a while."
"Are you busy later? Let's have a drink and shoot the breeze. I'm going nuts inside. I need people."
"Sure. I'll load up a pipe, too. What time?"
"Ohh, I just got some yesterday. We'll swap smoke! I'll roll one for you. I'm going out to the supermarket. I'll pick up party supplies. I'll knock on your door when I'm ready. See you later." Whew!
Two hours later, she arrived with a bag full of food. I told her that it wasn't necessary but she shushed me, saying it was long overdue. I guided her over to my couch while I sat a socially approved distance away in my recliner. Over the next few hours, I discovered that she had a bubbly personality, she liked to flirt, she was funny and, well, she talked way too much. I hardly got a word in. After a while I just listened to her over-describe and go too deep to simply tell her stories. This was incredibly annoying but I let her go, having unleashed the kraakon. I liked watching her round braless tits move around under her tee. That she was also wearing yoga pants made her ass look oh so sweet. I spent some time silently wondering about her camel-toe while munching on snacks, wondering what her camel-toe was like to munch upon.
Finally, I think she exhausted herself and flamed out. We said our goodbyes and promised to do it again soon. I escorted her out the door, closed it and took a deep breath. Damn, if she hadn't exhausted me, too.
Over the next week, she knocked on my door regularly. Since we were both home all the time, I was easy to find, sort of a captive audience. We shared a few lunches, a few dinners, a couple of bottles of wine, a few joints and a lot of one-sided conversation. Our conversations had loosened up and a kind of intimacy was building. One night, she asked me why I was so quiet.
"You do enough talking for both of us. I can't get a word in and so I just listen. You ask me questions but then you answer them yourself. You could say that I'm an audience for you."
She became quiet. "So you think I talk too much. I'm not surprised. I've heard that all my life."
"Well, yes, you do. You have a way of giving too many details and of giving too much background, you begin to drone. A story has a beginning, a middle and an end. Sometimes, it takes you forever to get to the middle - you give too much background. And then, it takes you forever to get to the end of the story. You know, sometimes you don't have to talk at all."
"I'm sorry. Maybe I'm too nervous or too self-centered or something. I'm really sorry, Ray."
"Don't be sorry. That is who you are. There's no need to be nervous around me."
"Yeah, but I talk too much."
"You know, they say that brevity is the soul of wit. You know that you could tell a joke with just two lines?"
"Okay, I'll bite"
"Okay, I'll start. Knock, knock."
She quickly responded and said, "Who's there?"
I waited a dramatic pause before we broke into laughter. "See?" I said.
"You got me."
"Hey, I have an idea. Want to watch a movie? Have popcorn? I have a bunch of movies that I just downloaded. Want to watch the new Star Wars flick or Parasite or Once Upon A Time in Hollywood?"
I made two bowls of popcorn and set up my big screen TV to show the computer file. I refilled our glasses with wine and then we sat back to watch the movie.
"Can you see from there?" she asked. "Come sit on this side of the couch. And you know, we've both self-quarantined for a few weeks, I don't think we're carriers, do you?"
"No, I don't. It's been weeks." I sat down on the other side of the couch, about three feet away. The movie was great and Samantha was quiet. After about an hour, she began to yawn.
"Can we finish the movie tomorrow? I'm passing out."
"Sure. I'll stop it there."
"I'm sorry but I don't know why I got so tired? I did nothing today."
"It's okay. Sometimes doing nothing is exhausting. Go back into your apartment and collapse. I'll see you tomorrow."
We got up and she did an odd thing, she turned and hugged me tightly. "Oh dear, what am I thinking?" she said and released me. Good thing because I felt my dick up against her. I pushed her back.
"That felt nice. Thank you. I haven't felt a body next to me in some time."
"Yes, that's true, me neither. I, too, miss that. Well, I must be punchy. I'll see you tomorrow."
