The Girl Next Door

The girl next door had inspired my fantasy life for quite a while. When I took her for a ride, I wasn't prepared for what she provided in return. As I sat in my car, I watched Dad unlock his front door, enter the house, turn and wave goodbye, and close the door behind him. We’d just done some shopping; now he was going to put his groceries away and I was headed for the Athletic Club for a workout. Since he doesn’t drive anymore he depends on me and his friends to take him around.

I pulled away from the curb and just started down the street when I spotted his next-door neighbor, Ginger, washing her boyfriend’s car in their driveway. Ginger lives there with her boyfriend and his mother. She recently turned twenty-one, and is bubbly and gregarious, unafraid to say what’s on her mind. Lean and shapely, she was wearing a bright sundress, short as usual, and clingy in the summer afternoon heat. Just a couple of days before we spoke as she came over to Dad’s for a swim with one of her friends. She confided that she was feeling a bit of “seven year itch” and was looking for a few minutes away from the boyfriend she’d been with since she was fourteen.

Slowing my car as I pulled alongside, I yelled to her, jokingly, “I’ll be back in an hour and you can wash mine too!” I slowed to a stop as she put down the hose and stepped toward my car.

“Just dropping Granddad off?”, she asked, leaning on the open passenger door windowsill. Her posture gave me quite a view down the front of her dress.

“Took him grocery shopping,” I answered, trying not to stare too obviously.

“You know, I need to pick up a couple of things myself. Think you could run me down to the store for a minute?” she asked in that unique throaty, cheery voice. She had been so kind to drive Dad around many times, so I couldn’t very well refuse. Besides, she was looking pretty good and might be a pleasant few minutes distraction.

Ginger was well aware of our family situation. I had moved back to the area after a decade away, and had been here for six months. My wife had stayed behind to sell the house, and we had been together only sporadically over the past half year. With two kids in high school and living in different cities, it had been a difficult time for all of us. Ginger had even asked my Dad if we were divorced or something, since she knew about our physical separation.

Ginger climbed in the car and we drove off. Her cotton sundress now clung to her body in the breeze, moistened by her perspiration and the spray of the hose. Her small breasts and firm nipples made a clear impression on the damp light-colored fabric. I’m afraid I was stealing glances as I drove toward the store. She pretended not to notice, but my cock began to swell on its own. “How are things going?”, she asked innocently, or so I thought.

“Pretty well, I guess.” It was an easier answer than the truth, which was that I was hornier than a goat. These weekly - or less frequent - conjugal visits were not nearly enough to contain my raging libido. And the presence of this bubbly, vivacious young woman wasn’t making things any easier. I began to worry that a few more minutes of this and my boner would become apparent.

“It must be pretty hard for you… with your wife away most of the time, I mean,” she ventured, sounding innocent and concerned, with just a hint of tramp thrown in for seasoning.

“Yes, it does get pretty hard sometimes,” I offered, sending the entendre back into her court.

I made the right turn out of their tract, and headed down the narrow road toward the store just a few minutes away.

Ginger turned toward me in her seat and reached across the car’s center console. Her right hand settled on the front of my workout shorts and took hold of my now swollen cock through the fabric. We’d been driving for just a minute and she’d already taken matters into her own hands. “Turn right here,” she ordered, but sweetly. I was in no condition to argue, so I complied. That seven-year itch must be plenty powerful, I surmised.

We were now driving into a semi-rural residential area. “I’ll bet I can make it really hard for you. Let me see it.” Fascinated - and incredibly turned on - I kept one hand on the wheel while the other pulled up one shorts leg, pulled back my Jockeys, and freed my stiffening cock. She took it in her hand and began stroking it softly. “That’s better. Now turn right here.” I turned the car onto a well-graded dirt road that went up a hill. The houses had ended at the corner, so we were heading into a deserted canyon.

Just over the rise, the road dipped and we were out of site of the houses below. Ginger’s soft, strong hand was now squeezing and pulling my cock in earnest. I was hard as a rock and pointing straight up; this felt so good I could barely stand it. “You must have to do this all by yourself all the time, huh?” she asked, “I know how horny guys can get.”

“Yeah, I guess I do it once in a while,” I confessed.

“Liar,” she joked, “I’ll bet you jerk off every night.” It was true. “Bet it feels good to have somebody else do it for you, huh?” She was right about that. Her hand kept moving in long, firm strokes.

“It feels incredible,” I gasped.

“Pull over here and stop,” she ordered, motioning with her head to a flat spot at the right of the road. I did the best I could considering the near-orgasmic state I was already in. The car came to a stop and a cloud of dust blew by. “Now, put your seat back and let me finish what I started here,” she said, looking into my eyes as she kept squeezing my stiff cock. I complied, reclining my seat all the way back. “That’s better,” she said, now looking down at what her hand was doing, “just relax.” She placed her free left hand on my chest and pushed me gently backwards. Following her orders, I lay back in my seat. Ginger climbed a bit towards me, turned her body away from my view, and lay across the console and my chest. She faced south as I lay north, her right hand still stroking my cock.

“Do you do it like this…” she asked, continuing her strong, solid strokes for several seconds, “or like this…?” she continued, now shifting gears to pump my cock rapidly up and down with great enthusiasm.

I didn’t know what to say, except that at that rate I was going to blast off in another couple of strokes. Wanting to prolong this adventure as long as possible, I offered, “The first way…”

“Okay,” she said, slowing to her original pace, giving my shaft a firm squeeze on each upstroke. After a dozen or so strokes like this, she relaxed her grip.

She shifted her hand down to caress my balls, giving them a few gentle squeezes, as her thumb and forefinger encircled the base of my cock. She then regripped the shaft of my cock and resumed her stroking motions. She watched her hand move up and down on my cock for several long, delicious moments. My cockhead grew larger and purple in color, and the veins on my shaft became more pronounced. The sensation was incredible, as I watched this lovely young woman pay some badly-needed attention to my aching manhood. I didn’t really know what to expect - since everything up to now had been an overwhelming surprise - but I thought she was going to keep going until she jerked me off. I felt like I was going to show her a big fountain of cum, and wondered what her reaction might be. I wouldn’t get the chance to find out.

“I’ll bet this will feel even better,” she said. I’m guessing she licked her lips, but I couldn’t tell because her face was aimed at my cock, not my eyes. She bent forward and the next thing I knew my cock was enveloped in her warm, moist mouth. The sensation of that moment was beyond anything I’d felt before. She took my entire cock into her mouth (not a big trick, I’ll admit) and sucked it from bottom to top. Her rough, warm tongue caressed the top of my dickhead, sending a shiver of incredible sensation through my body. It was too much for me - first the surprise attack, now the cocksucking - and I couldn’t take any more. A guttural groan emerged from deep inside my throat.

Ginger evidently knew this signal, and began moving her head up and down faster. Her lips and tongue stimulated my cock intensely, sliding up and down its full length vigorously. My hips rose involuntarily, pushing my cockhead deep into her throat. She didn’t seem to mind as my first gush of hot cream blasted down her gullet. She pulled her head back nearly the length of my cock, and with just the head of my cock in her mouth, she swallowed hard. Her tongue against my cockhead brought the next wave even stronger than the first. Her lips held their grip as she bobbed her head up and down, fellating just the head as I came and came. Not expertly, like some porn queen, but with gusto and youthful enthusiasm she sucked me off, swallowing everything I had to give. She kept sucking, gentler now, even after all my juice was gone. The feel of her tongue on the supersensitive top of my cockhead was more than I could take. I reached down to touch the back of her head. “Please… stop…” I gasped.

Ginger sat up and looked back at me. I must have been quite a sight, because she giggled. “That was amazing,” I said, breathlessly, “thank you so much…”

“Anytime,” she said, with a hint of promise, “now, let’s get to the store, shall we?” She sat up, licked her lips, and fastened her seatbelt.

I raised my seat, tucked my shrunken pink weenie back into my shorts, and made my way back out of the canyon. At the store, she said, “Just drop me off -- I’ll just be a second.” She popped out of the car as I stopped by the door. I waited just a few minutes - still in a daze - before she came bouncing back with a single plastic shopping bag in hand. “Okay. Mission accomplished. Shall we head back now?” she asked with a grin. I turned around and got back on the street, heading back to her house.

About two blocks down the street she reached over and grabbed my right wrist, yanking my hand from the steering wheel. “Here, check this out,” she said, as she pulled my hand toward her lap. I quickly grabbed the wheel with my idle left hand. She placed my right hand on the inside of her left thigh, and slid it upwards. Second surprise! She wasn’t wearing any underwear under that very short dress. My hand found her warm, soft, curly pubic hair and rested there. “No, keep looking, silly,” she implored. With my middle finger I parted her curly hair and found her vaginal lips. They were hot to the touch. I parted them gently and found a treasure trove of feminine juices. “You’d better turn in here again,” she said, pointing as we approached the same street we’d entered before. “We’ve got some unfinished business to take care of.” Ever the good Samaritan, I made a one-handed left turn and followed our previous path toward our secret spot.

As we continued our automotive journey, my finger continued its own. With just the tip of my finger I gathered a lick of hot juice, then searched upward an inch. I was greeted by a swollen clit that matched my fingertip in size. I knew I’d found it by the gasp that exuded from its owner. I began stroking her clit with the same gentle but meaningful care that she had shown me before. Ginger slid her body toward me, leaning against my side and shoulder, giving me easier access to her womanly chamber. I teased her as I drove, applying the gentlest pressure and alternating with firm but tender strokes. We finally reached our parking spot, and I stopped the car.

Ginger was extremely responsive - evidently as horny as I had been before. I stroked her swollen clit, then replenished my moisture supply from the lips of her vagina. She writhed in ecstacy, gripping my arm with both of her own. She gripped me tightly at one point, taking in a hissing rush of breath. I stroked her clit from top to bottom, and it twitched in response. With a loud whispered “Yesssss......” she came, her body shuddering and moving in concert with my finger’s motion. After a few moments, she seemed quite content, and I stopped my movements. “No, wait, don’t stop yet…” she implored. “No problem,” I replied, and resumed, now just touching her hyper-sensitive clit.

Ginger’s left hand let loose its death grip on my arm and made its way to my leg. Sliding up my thigh she released my soft cock from its cotton prison and began kneading and squeezing it in an attempt to bring it back to life. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle anything after our very recent experience, but she would prove me wrong. Besides, just touching the slick wetness inside a warm pussy has been known to be enough to get me up in an heartbeat or two. Ginger’s efforts continued, teasing and pulling me gently until I began to stiffen just enough for her to resume a jerk-off motion. Her soft, sure strokes brought me back to life and I quickly caught up to Ginger’s level of excitement.

My finger went in search of more moisture - and there was plenty there, to be sure - but kept exploring. After her first orgasm, I wanted to give her something a little different. My finger found her lips and slid inside just a bit. She was tight as a fist, but hot and wet. I kept inserting my finger, slipping in a bit farther each moment. At the same time I caressed her clit with the palm of my hand. It was so large and so excited that even this motion drove her wild. I worked my finger in and out of her tight pussy, all the while stroking her clit with my hand. Meanwhile, her hand was pumping my now rock-hard cock; as she got closer to orgasm her stroking efforts matched the pace of my own.

It was all I could do to hang on as her new orgasm engulfed us both. Her pussy tightened around my finger as I slid it in and out; her clit throbbed and pulsed with each beat of her heart. “Oh…oh…oh…” she moaned, over and over, as her body jerked with the release of her sexual energy. I kept up my motions, feeding her sensations, as she kept up her own work on my cock. Sensing the downslide of her climax, I gave in to my own.

Ginger never waivered through the throes of her ecstacy. Her hand jerked me off strong and true, and I watched as she looked toward my cock to see the results of her efforts. At just the right moment, she slid her hand up and held the end of my cock to watch the first blast of cum shoot upward. Then she moved her hand quickly down to the base, and back to the head in time to drive the next blast. She continued this delightful exercise, wringing streams of cum out of my cock that poured down her hand. I gave her more this time than I’d ever experienced in my lone sojourns down this path.

I was exhausted. Seemingly indefatigable, Ginger collected herself quickly. She sat up in her seat, fetched a tissue from the box on the floor behind me, and tidied up my goo from her hand and my crotch. In a few seconds she was done, tossing the evidence out the window. I’d forgive her for that; it was biodegradable, after all.

“Well, we’d better get back so I can finish that carwash before dinner,” she chirped, impervious to the transgression that we’d both just committed.

“I guess so,” I replied, sitting up and tucking my exhausted pink weenie back into my pants -- again. I started the car and turned it around. Neither of us said a word in the few minutes it took to get back home again.

When I pulled up in front of her house, Ginger climbed quickly out of the car. Closing the door, she leaned back in the window and said, “Thanks for the ride. Let’s do it again sometime.” She winked, spun on her heel, and went back up the driveway to finish her chore.