All characters in this story engaging in any sort of sexual activity are 18 or over. This story was written purely for entertainment purposes only, so, please, put your critical mind on pause, and simply enjoy this CFNM story of Jay Fisher, our shy virgin college student who dares himself into a naughty little adventure and Miss Carmen, his old-enough-to-be-his-mother night blind neighbor who catches him in the act.
Feedback's always welcome and I hope you enjoy this story,
-BizMe
J-Bird and his Night Blind Neighbor
The stage couldn't have been set more perfectly. The sky was especially dark thanks to a new moon, Aunt Sandy had turned in for some quality time with her newest boy toy (the shirtless Fabio wannabe on the cover of her latest Harlequin paperback), the Parsons across the street were out of town for the weekend, and Miss Carmen next door was holed up inside her house doing whatever she does now since getting diagnosed with something called 'night blindness.'
All summed up, it was the perfect opportunity for my long-anticipated adventure: to take a leisurely stroll around our quaint little neighborhood,
au natural
. Plus, it was garbage night and I had yet to take the trash cans out to the street, so there was that, too--a
reason
to be outside should my aunt ask later what I'd been up to.
I turned down all the inside lights, stripped down to my birthday suit, and made sure I'd left both the front and back doors unlocked in case I needed to bid a hasty retreat. Then, I silently tip-toed barefoot out the side door of the garage, careful not to rouse Aunt Sandy from her pillow time with Fabio-man.
The blacktop beneath my feet still radiated the heat it had collected from the relentless summer sun while an easy breeze from the northwest helped cool my skin. The air was thick, hot, and humid like a thunderstorm might be brewing despite the sky being almost completely clear. I could already feel beads of sweat forming on my neck and back just standing still. If it did end up storming, I was pretty sure I'd welcome it after the extreme heat we'd been having lately,
Still, the energy in the atmosphere paled in comparison to the sensual electricity thrumming in my body, knowing I was outside, completely exposed, and about to present my naked body to whatever, or whomever, might be watching from the shadows.
I hesitated at the corner of my garage, wondering if this was as good an idea as it seemed a few short moments prior.
But who does it hurt?
I asked myself before answering without pause,
No one; that's who. And they won't really see anything anyway, even if someone is watching, right? I mean, it's pitch dark out here, there's only one streetlight all the way down at the entrance to our cul-de-sac, and it's almost ten p.m. So everyone's probably inside, either already asleep or watching TV or maybe even having sex.
That last thought caused my dick to twitch.
Sex: the mystery of all mysteries to an eighteen-year-old virgin finally striking out on his own, or trying to anyway. I could barely afford the rent on the spare bedroom in my aunt's home, but I was making it work between two part-time jobs and a bit of leftover money from a small grant that I'd received for good grades.
Unfortunately, all that 'making it work' consumed just about all of my time. So... no social life, no friends, no prospects for making friends, and certainly no prospects for ending my eighteen-year-long drought when it came to anything related to
s-e-x
.
Truth be told, I hadn't even kissed a girl, much less experienced the pleasures of having my hard straining cock inside a girl's hot, wet pussy. I felt like such an imposter when it came to sex that I couldn't even bring myself to say words like 'cock' or 'pussy' out loud. The few times I'd tried, I'd blushed three shades of red.
That didn't stop my virginal mind from thinking of them, though, or my undipped prick from reminding me of its yearnings.
No less than three times a day I'd get slammed by some sudden and completely random
raging
erection. So unexpected and angry, in fact, that it would send me sprinting to the nearest bathroom in nearly a panic, simply to gain some relief.
Believe me, the embarrassment of rudely excusing myself in the middle of a lecture was
nothing
compared to trying to bravely ride it out 'til class was over, but instead getting called upon by professor Perky Tits O'Connor to stand up and answer a question--some
stupid
question about my thoughts on some class argument that I'd been too distracted to hear! Yes, I know this from personal experience but perhaps that's a story better told some other time.
At present, I was standing at the corner of my garage, not some three-hundred-seat lecture hall. I reminded myself that this wasn't Art History class; just my own garage. So, even if I did get a massive boner this time, who would be around to see it? No one, that's who. My courage was bolstered.
Having assured myself that the neighbors were all indoors, completely oblivious to my naked presence, I swallowed any remaining concerns that I might actually get caught, grabbed the handle to our trash can, and started rolling it down our driveway, pulling it behind me as my now burgeoning manhood led the way.
I'd barely rolled the can two feet before stopping. The sound of plastic wheels on concrete was so loud I worried everyone on the block would hear it.
They probably could, I realized, when I remembered so many countless times I'd heard from my bedroom the telltale sound of one of the neighbors rolling their cans out and being reminded I needed to do the same. Yet, in that moment, it seemed so much louder than usual, as if it was somehow being amplified by my nudity.
I quickly scanned the neighbors' driveways, double-checking to see if anyone else had yet to take their trash out. But the only driveway with no can at the end was the one we shared with Miss Carmen. So, taking a deep breath, I started rolling again.
Twice more I stopped, my mind playing tricks on me, making me think I'd heard noises in the night; a whisper that was just the breeze or someone talking that was just someone's TV. After the third time stopping, I had to remind myself that others could surely hear my starting and stopping and
that alone
might stir them to investigate. So, I finished rolling the can to the curb, turning it to face the right way toward the street before reluctantly releasing my grip on the handle like I was letting go of a security blanket.
I paused to take in the moment.
I had done it.
I was standing no less than fifty paces from the protection of my house and, except for the trash can, there was absolutely nowhere to hide. No parked cars in the vicinity. No large trunked trees or bushes anywhere close. Nothing at all but the sheer cloak of darkness itself to cover my nakedness.
I forced myself to move my hands from shielding my crotch--my very last defense--before walking, as naturally as I could, out into the street until I was standing dead center of the cul-de-sac.
I spread my arms wide like Jack and Rose on the bow of the Titanic, resisting the urge to shout "I'm flying!", knowing that wouldn't end well.
I basked in the silky sensuous touch of the breeze, wafting across my skin and teasing my nipples until they were hard with arousal. I spun in slow circles, facing one neighbor's house, then the next, as if presenting myself for their perusal and inspection, though I could never be that brave.
It was only beneath a shroud of darkness that I could find such false courage, but I relished in it nonetheless. I imagined getting caught by one of the neighbors--it wouldn't matter which--and my ever-enlivening penis lurched at the thought of it.
I imagined being ogled by my female neighbors--any of them, all of them, why not? Young or old, friendly or curmudgeonly. I imagined being ridiculed by Mr. Parsons, one of only a few men on our block, with warnings that he'd be keeping an eye on me and to stay away from his wife.
I imagined Aunt Sandy's righteous anger at my sophomoric behavior and how she would no doubt grab me by the ear with one hand and immediately spank my bare bottom with the other, not even waiting until we were back to the house, where she would continue to spank me and my cries and begging would bring delight to my neighbors.
I imagined Jenny, the Parsons' heart-throb daughter, staring at my virgin erection with such unbridled lust that she'd lick her lips at the sight of it and I would probably swoon in response.
And I imagined Miss Carmen--the bronze-skinned night-blind MILF next door--devouring my nude form with lechery in her eyes and sending a thousand thrills of arousal into my bloodstream with the way she calls me
Mijo
.
I was glorying in my reverie, my imagination running wild until it happened--the unthinkable--the sound of a screen door pierced the still quiet of the night!
At the sound of a creaky metal spring, stretching under tension, I froze in place, unsure at first where the obnoxious noise was coming from.
A half-second later, it dawned on me that the last thing I should be doing was just standing naked in the middle of our cul-de-sac, so I sprinted back toward my driveway, noting the sound seemed to be getting louder, the closer I got to my trash can.
Again I heard the door spring, this time being stretched out to its full limit before being let go, freeing the wooden door it was attached to slam violently against its door frame. The ferocity of the clamor made me jump with a gasp as if I'd been walking through a haunted house and someone tapped me on the shoulder. Every inch of my skin prickled with goosebumps.
When I finally zeroed in on the source of the sound, a chill went down my spine because, standing in our shared driveway, blocking the one and only path of my retreat, stood Miss Carmen, lifting the lid to her own trash can and tossing in a small bag.
Before I could put two and two together on my own, she closed the lid, leaned the can back to balance itself on its wheels, and started pulling it toward the street... directly toward me.
Again, I gasped, the rising seriousness of the situation sending new chills throughout my body. Unfortunately, this time, she heard my sharply drawn breath that bordered on a choke.
"Hola?" she called out, halting her trek in mid-stride. "Is someone there?" she called again. Her voice sounded nervous, perhaps even scared. Though she clearly couldn't see me, I could see her quite plainly, my eyes having long adjusted to the darkness.
She let go of her trash can and I could see her hand shaking and reaching into her pocket, for what I didn't know. "¿Quién está? Who's out there?" she called again and I felt guilty for causing her such worry and fear. I silently cursed when she pulled her hand from her robe, brandishing what looked like a cheap plastic flashlight, which she fumbled frantically to turn on.
I crouched lower behind my trash can, hoping against hope she wasn't about to bathe me in light. "Te suplico... I beg you..." she nearly whimpered and a knot of guilt and shame quickly formed in my gut. I nearly called out to her, if only to ease her fears until I remembered my state of undress and that calling attention to myself would probably be a mistake.
Then, as she was trying to retreat toward her house, Miss Carmen tripped on her own feet and nearly tumbled to the ground. She would have landed on her bottom if she hadn't let go of the flashlight to grab onto her trashcan. But in doing so, the fragile plastic flashlight came apart upon impact, its lens cap separated from the battery compartment lying next to it.
"Please..." she called again, her voice wavering as she felt around for the flashlight parts and tried to piece them back together. The angst of self-blame in my gut was rising every bit as quickly as her panic, my once excited cock deflating just as fast.
She righted herself back to a standing position, except she was no longer looking in my direction. The combination of her lost balance and inability to see in the darkness, left her disoriented and confused about which way she was even facing. She also seemed to be moving with a limp.
Did she hurt herself?
With shaky hands, she fumbled with the flashlight parts, trying to reassemble them while calling out to the darkness. "
Dime
