"The Girl next door" Part 1

	Warning: The following story contains sexually explicit language and subject matter.
If you are under the age of 21 you must not continue to read. If such explicit subject matter
violates any local, state, or country laws, you may not continue to read. The author assumes no
responsibility for violators of this warning, and readers must continue at their own risk and
assume full responsibility for viewing the following file.
************************************************************************************************** 




















    A message from the author:
		I wrote this story for the primary purpose of seeing how much I could explore the
darker side of not only my writing, but myself. In the end I think that this story is still
your basic no frills erotica, but with a bit more. I hope you will enjoy 'The Girl next door' as
much as I did. Thank you.

		Darian Reiser

****************************************************************************************************

           The Girl Next Door
           A work of erotic fiction by Darian Reiser







	Chapter 1: All too soon


		The first night that I stepped out of the shower I had decided that this time it 
really was too steamy, so I decided to open the window. When the first wave of air blew in
I was overwhelmed with not only the cool night air, but the subtle California breeze that blew
across the San Fernando Valley. I breathed in deeply. I closed my eyes and my nostrils filled 
with the pure, satisfactory chill. I then opened my eyes. As I looked at the multitude of stars 
above, I felt the beads of icy water evaporate off of my body. The beads left my arms, and my 
hands, and my fingers. My eyes watched the infathomable galaxies while at the same time my mind
concentrated on the icy spots that trickled and dripped and dried from my nude body. I thought
on the white dots in the heavens, and felt my nipples growing warm and plump at the feeling
of the cold Santa Ana winds. I wanted to touch them, but did not. My nipples rubbed against a
ledge before the window, and the ledge itself was very cool due to the moisture that now turned 
cold. The mixture of steam and ice was intoxicating. I inhaled a last bit of the fresh oxygen
before turning and picking up the white towel.
		
		I dried myself off completely, and went about putting on my robe and towel-drying
my hair. I was ready for bed, but found myself tired of the routine, not tired for bed.
		
		Each day, each night. Same thing. Wake up, go to work, watch televsion, shower,
and then off to bed. It was all I had ever hoped to do, besides marrying. But my husband, Rick,
was so obviously more in love with his bottle of Smirnoff than he was with me that I wouldn't 
ask questions. Work was my only release.
		
		The first time I noticed Steven was one morning in January, while going out
to get the Sunday paper. I was alone, Rick had gone golfing. I was watching the great blue sky,
and thinking how big and wonderful the world was, when I heard a door close. It was The Carrol 
house, and there was Steven walking out. Steven was 17, but had blonde hair and blue eyes that
decieved the viewer into seeing the cherub-like face of an older man. The small tufts of blonde
hair growing on the chin and lips added to the illusion. He had intrigued me from the moment
that I had first seen him. He was so beautiful. He was perfect. In the cold January morning sun
Steven stood as Apollo himself before the backdrop of purest blue, and made me gasp slightly when
the sun hit him in such a manner as to form a great halo around his head. I dared not greet him,
I dared not speak. I went back into the house, forgetting why I ever had left.

		That night I waited in front of the TV for Rick to come home. He was obviously
out with his drinking buddies, and my insomnia was not due to any real concern for him, but 
only neccessary for myself as to how much longer I had the house peaceful, calm, and to myself.

		Then I thought of Steven, and felt my hand move towards the waistband of my 
panties. I began toying with the small tufts of black hair, thinking of Steven, thinking of
the small tufts of beautiful blonde hair on his chin. My fingers expertly curled and toyed with
my hairs, and I began to feel myself getting exited. I removed my hand from the waistband and
began touching the smooth cotton of my panties. I felt the subtle, but sudden groove of my
mound, and pushed on it. Then I rubbed it, slowly. I was thinking of Steven. He was touching me.
It was his hand. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The television blared 'The Tonight
Show', but I could no longer hear it. I could only hear the sound of my heart beating ever-so-
slightly faster as I placed my fingers inside my panties and began rubbing myself. Over and
over again I saw his blue eyes. They were watching me. They were watching me masturbate for him.
I slipped my finger inside myself, and felt the soft, wet flesh give. A shock of pleasure ran 
throughout my body. My heart beat faster still as I inspected inside myself. I was seeing Steven
and I was hoping that he was enjoying me. I hoped he enjoyed his finger inside me. He was 
inspecting all around now, and I was aching for his finger to move faster inside me. His finger
began moving in and out, very slowly. My heart began pumping, and I could feel the blood flow
to my cheeks and face as my head grew hot and dizzy. His finger moved faster and faster inside me
and I let out an audible moan. My hips began grinding up and down on the finger. It was Steven.
Steven was fucking me. My tongue stuck out involontarily, and I licked at my bottom lip. I felt 
myself slowly rising to climax, when suddenly my finger pulled out of my pussy. Before I
understood completely my mouth was sucking on the warm juices, and soon my tongue was licking
any remains of the sweet goo hiding upon nail or knuckle. I placed the finger back into my
pussy, the finger wet with saliva, and already wet again with my own lubricating juices. Again 
I withdrew and sucked greedily at any bit of liquid upon my finger. 
		I sat on the couch with my purple cotton panties pulled down around my thighs. 
I picked up the remote and turned off the intrusive television. I was flushed, and breathing 
heavily. The house seemed much hotter, and a small bead of sweat trickled down the side of
my forehead and down my temple. I brushed the small brown strands of hair that stuck to the 
light persperation on my forehead with my hands. I breathed deeply and felt my heart rate slow.
I took off my robe, and felt much cooler on the couch. Only the purple cotton panties remained,
and soon they, too were gone, leaving me completely nude.
		I felt very free, and quite confident that I would be able to put the robe on, 
at least, before my husband came home. Still, it felt a little dangerous and wrong, I wondered
if the sight of his wife masturbating on the couch would sober the bastard up. Yes. I smiled a 
wicked smile, and found myself rubbing my cunt on the slick black leather that stuck to the 
moisture on my legs. I mounted the couch, and sat with my legs spread completly wide, and 
proceeded to hump the leather. A strange noise emitted from the cushions as I rubbed my pussy up and
down across the couch. The wetness of my crotch sometimes stuck to the leather, and my pussy lips
would squeek across, sending a tantilizing vibration through me.
		I humped the couch faster and faster, then let out a yell as I came. I continued
to fuck the couch after I came, but each time my body groaned and fell from the burning heights
of climax to the abysmal, satisfying depths of sleep.
		
		When I awoke it was morning, and the sun in my face got me thinking of Steven,
and made me wonder if I was only dreaming, or if Steven really WAS watching me masturbate, 
somehow? I got up from the couch and put on my robe. Rick never did come home.



			If you enjoyed this story post a request for another 
				at the newsgroup you found it in.
 


  











  