House to Herself

It was finally “that” time for me, the time that all stay at home moms looked forward to. The time, of course, when my kids were both old enough to be in school for the day and I had the house all to myself. Though I had the house to myself for the morning and most of the afternoon while my sons were in school and my husband worked, it wasn’t just time for me to lounge around the house. I had been running a small business out of my garage for a few years which meant my free time would actually be dedicated to focus more so on that business.

I dyed yarn and sold it online to people all over the world to knit and crochet with, and I was actually really successful at it, managing to supplement my husband’s salary as a teacher. My work made me feel proud and gave me a true feeling of purpose other than being a mother and wife. So I reveled in my opportunity to finally have time to focus on my work, without having to also give some to care for my children during the day.

Most of my days were spent working in the garage as I had typically, but with my boys in school, I found that I began to take more notice of my neighborhood as I worked whereas before my attention would have been divided between my work and my boys. The major event happening in my neighborhood was the arrival of a new neighbor. While working in my garage, I watched as, over the span of a few days, a single man moved into the house directly across from ours. From my vantage point, I took notice that he was a fit man, seemingly younger than me, but not by much, and was black. This intrigued me, as there were no other black families or individuals on our street.

After watching him move in, and wanting to be a courteous neighbor, I decided one morning to walk across the street to introduce myself and welcome him to the neighborhood. Of course, being the good housewife I was, I had made cookies the day before as a welcoming gift also. With the cookies in hand, and dressed in a nice pair of denim shorts and a t-shirt, both just a step up from typical work clothes of cotton shorts and old dye covered shirts, I made my way to his front door. When he answered the door, I was interesting aware of how handsome he was and how muscular. He looked like a well-toned athlete and stood as tall as one too. My husband was tall, standing at just under six foot five, but the man standing before me seemed much taller. Needless to say, I felt a flutter of arousal come over me even though I was very much in love with my husband and had no intention to seek affection elsewhere. However, the responses of the body sometimes just can’t be controlled, and that is why I found myself standing in front of my handsome neighbor.

“Hello,” he spoke, breaking me from my momentary daze.

“Hi, I’m your neighbor from across the street, Erin. I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood and brought you some fresh-baked cookies as a welcoming gift.”

A smiled formed on his face, flashing a set of very white and straight teeth.

“Well that is very nice of you, thank you. I’m Justin, but I go by Duke.”

Again I flushed, though this time from the coincidence that his nickname just so happened to be the name of a rather large dildo in my closest that sometimes came out to play when the mood struck between my husband and me.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Justin.”

“Call me Duke, I would prefer, and think you will too.”

I thought I sensed a teasing smile form on his face as he said that, but pushed it out of my head as just being nervous.

“Okay, Duke, again it was nice to meet you. If you need any help settling in, my husband and I live just across the street.”

“Oh, you’re the pretty woman I have seen working in that garage. What is it that you do over there?”

Blushing from his pretty woman compliment, I answered, “I run a hand-dyed yarn business, so most days I’m dyeing, washing, and skeining yarn to sell online.”

“Wow, I don’t think I have ever known such a thing existed. Does it make you good money?”

“I do pretty well,” I said cheekily while at the same time cocking my hip up to imply thinking high of myself, but more likely coming off flirtatious. Realizing I may be giving off the wrong message, I moved the conversation back onto him by asking, “what is it you do for work?”

“Actually, I work from home as well, however nothing quite as labor-intensive as I see you doing. I’m an online technical consultant for a few companies in town. So just like you, I assume, I get to spend most of my days at home.”

For some reason, maybe because I just felt so comfortable with Duke, I got flirty again when I playfully asked, “so if I ever need a strong man to help carry my heavy pans you are available?” This time there was no mistaking the teasing smile that graced his face as he pondered his response.

“Of course. I am always available to help out pretty women and have familiarity with handling big packages and moving heavy loads.”

The double entendre of his answer dripped with sexuality, and I found myself glancing down at his crotch. I quickly reverted my gaze back to his face but saw that he caught my subtle glance at his crotch, and I blushed like a teen. Feeling ashamed of myself, I said, “Well anyways, it was really nice meeting you. I should be getting back so I can start working.”

He reached out his hand to shake mine, grasping it between both of his two large paws in the process and making feel even smaller in his presence. “I hope to see more of you, as you have been a bright moment in my day already.”

“Thank you, and I’m sure we will, both work from home neighbors and all,” I said turning to leave.

As I walked away, I did turn back once to look at him and saw he was still standing there watching me. A shy smile formed on my face and I turned away. Inside my house, I nearly hyperventilated as I was overcome with so many thoughts, feelings, and emotions. Did I really just flirt with the attractive black neighbor? Was I actually turned on from it? If the wetness in my crotch told me anything, the answer to the second question was a resounding yes.

As I sat on my bed and recovered my bearings, I told myself it was all just innocent fun, and that I was probably just reading to much into it. I stood up and got myself changed into my work clothes. However, as I did, I realized my panties had become saturated and needed changing. Peeling them off, I brought my hand to my slit and touch myself, and was surprised to find so much wetness. I thought momentarily about retrieving Duke the dildo from the closet but in the end, I told myself I had work to do and pleasuring myself wouldn’t be right; especially if it was brought on by another man other than my husband.

When I went to pull out a new pair of panties though, I just happened to pull out a thong which I normally didn’t wear while working. I must have had some subconscious thought that if Justin, or should I say, Duke, would see me, I wanted to feel sexy. It was silly, but I must admit I did feel horny as I worked which wasn’t common for me. However, worktime horniness became common from that day forward, and so too did sexier panties to wear under my cotton shorts, which themselves became short and tighter. I tried to rationalize with myself that it was because of the hotter weather, but when I went out shopping to purchase new pairs of tight workout shorts it was hard to deny the true reason.

The days after my introduction to Duke, I saw him occasionally, but we didn’t speak again, as I wasn’t quite sure how to approach him, nor was I sure I could trust myself around him. Not that I thought I would cheat on my husband with him, but that I would become an unstoppable flirt. Eventually, though we did speak again when he came over about a week later while I was working in the garage. I watched as walked across the street to my house. He was wearing a tight-fitting tank top that showed off his chiseled muscles and his dark skin, and a pair of loose basketball shorts. I could have sworn that as he walked I could see something swinging into the front of his shorts, and my mind thought it was his penis, but the size of it made me second guess myself.

As he neared closer and reached my driveway, I moved to meet him. He greeted me with a kind hello, and asked how my day was going, and after the formalities, I asked him what brought him to my side of the street.

“I need some batteries, and I can’t seem to mind the box I packed them in. So I was hoping you might have some. Saving me a trip to the store.”

I playfully gave a quizzical look as if I felt he had other intentions for his visit, and replied, “yeah, I should. What size do you need?”

“Two double A’s”

“Okay, let me go look, but of course this means you will need to owe me.”

As I turned to go inside, he responded, “of course. Anything. Anytime.” I then offered him to take a seat at one of my high stools as I went inside to retrieve the batteries. While inside, I could feel my breathing get rapid, and my sex warmed. It didn’t take long to find the batteries, but I took a moment to collect myself before going back out. Returning to Duke with the batteries, he was sitting, looking around at my makeshift studio. I stole a glance at his crotch and saw the unmistakable outline of his member beneath his shorts, and it was massive. It looked as if he was concealing a mallet in his pants: I couldn’t believe the size of it, but I didn’t want to get caught looking again so I turned and walked back to my pans of yarn.

“Thanks for the batteries. You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem at all, but remember, you owe me one and I plan on collecting it.”

I didn’t mean for my statement to sound as sexy as it did, but I was finding out that being around Duke brought out my flirtatious side in a big way.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said with a big smile on his face before walking off to his house.

After my second interaction with Duke, I could no longer lie to myself; I was turned on by him. I found myself constantly thinking about him, and the image of his outlined cock kept flooding into my mind as well. As I worked, long gone were my old loose-fitting cotton shorts and ratty t-shirts. I only wore tight workout shorts to show off my shapely ass and paired them with tight-fitting tank tops. My underwear choices became only little thongs, and at times when I felt my shorts showed my panty lines to much, I went without. Bras were also no longer a constant, as my breasts weren’t large, and I could get away with wearing just the tight-fitting tops, or in some cases just sports bras. Of course, my nipples often were poking through my tops.

While sleeping, I started dreaming of Duke, and am ashamed to admit that those dreams often involved me having sex with him. Many times I would wake up in the middle of the night to find my thighs clenching my hand as I rubbed my wet slit. I always felt so naughty when that happened, but no matter how hard I tried, it kept happening.

Of course, I made no mention of Duke to my husband as then mentioning that he had moved in, and seemed nice. I loved my husband and enjoyed our sex life together, but the feelings and responses I was having in reaction to Duke was something more primal, more animalistic. It is hard to explain, but it felt like I had no control over my feelings, and the more I had them, the more I wanted to possibly pursue them.

Again, I saw Duke across the street occasionally and we would have typical neighborly conversations that usually had an undertone oozing with sexual tension, but I didn’t act on my feelings. However, that changed one day, when I watched Duke from my dyeing station in the garage as he worked in his front yard pulling weeds. It was a hot day, so he had chosen to work shirtless, and as he sweated his muscles glistened. Seeing him like that got me going more than normal, and I decided to do something about it. I went out to my driveway and called over to him, not with any sexual intentions, but rather to interact with him. I told him he looked to be burning up and offered him some cold refreshments at my place. He indicated that he was thankful for my offer and would take me up on it. Moments later he was crossing the street, and I led him up and into my garage. I pulled a stool over behind my work table, and told him to sit and cool off. I had a fan/mister combo that I used to keep myself from overheating while working and I showed him how it worked. He graciously took a seat, and I left him to retrieve the promised refreshments.

I had intended to bring back ice waters, but once I was inside and putting ice into glasses, I was reminded of the container of premixed margaritas sitting inside my fridge. Already feeling naughty for inviting my handsome and shirtless neighbor over, I decided to continue my naughty play and poured two glasses of margaritas and headed back to my garage. Upon returning to the garage and Duke, he was still sitting on the tool but was turned away looking at some of my shelves that held my inventory. When he heard me enter, he rotated back around to accept his drink from me.

“I hope you aren’t opposed to some alcohol this early,” I quipped handing him his glass. As I did, I noticed that his shorts had ridden up on his legs, and that a large outline pushed out against the fabric on his left leg. I tried my best not to stare as I passed him to take a seat in my rolling chair further behind my work table.

“No, not at all, but I am surprised that my neighbor is looking to be naughty, and get a little day drunk,” he replied while swinging around to again face me.

I shrugged, before responding, “I don’t know about drunk, but it is always nice to take the edge off.” Again, my gaze slipped to his crotch after we cheersed and I was shocked to see that the bulbous head of his penis had slipped out. I choked as I took my first sip of the margarita, but did nothing to bring Duke’s attention to his wardrobe malfunction. I didn’t want to bring to his attention that I was looking at his crotch, and more so wanted to see how much more would peak out. From just seeing the head, I was able to confirm he was packing a monster.

We talked casually about our days, and he asked about my business which I generously went over with him, though it was difficult to do so while also trying to nonchalantly peeking at his package. As I explained the aspects of what I do, and how it is done in my garage, I had to move around the room some causing Duke to shift in his seat to follow. Of course with each shifting, more and more of his dark appendage fell free until more than half of it was exposed. It was at that point that my subtle glances started to become longer stares and I began to lose focus on what I was saying.

He broke me out of my daze when he said, “you can do more than look if you want.”

Confused, I shook my head, replying, “huh, what’s that,” as I looked at him. He was staring back at me with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I said, you can do more than look if you want. I can tell you are interested,” he answered while simultaneously reaching down with his free hand to grip the middle of his dangling shaft.

Trying to keep a veil of innocence, I started replying, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I should have said something. It’s just, I didn’t know what to say, and to be honest, I was shocked by how big it is.” As I pleaded my case though, I had subconsciously moved closer to him, and when I was just a step in front I noticed my hand was reaching out.

“Go ahead,” he said disregarding what I rambled about, and instead focusing on my actions. “It won’t bite.”

My body took over from my brain, and though I was a married mother of two, my knees bent slightly to allow my hand to reach in and touch black snake in front of me. He was right, it didn’t bite, but it id flinch as it started to grow harder, causing me to let out a slight startled gasp. Recovering, my fingers begin to wrap themselves around the engorged shaft, and as they did my hand never felt smaller. His member responded quickly to my attention, and was fully erect in seconds. With it filled completely with blood, my delicate fingers could not reach all the way around it, but I found that I was starting to stroke his length; not stopping with just a touch.

“I knew you were a naughty neighbor, but I think you want to be naughtier,” Duke spoke as my hand traveled up and down the full length of his black cock. I knew what he meant, and even though I knew it was wrong, I wanted it. My knees bent more until they touched the cushioned mat I used as I worked dyeing yarn. I was face level with his crotch, and at that moment I remembered that my garage was open. I looked to my left, but couldn’t see out as my table was blocking my view.

As if reading my mind, Duke spoke, “don’t worry, no one will see you. Plus it adds to the naughty factor.” That was all the convincing I needed, as I opened my mouth, and it onto the mushroom tip of his mighty prick. It filled my mouth almost entirely, and I only had the head of it inside. I swirled my tongue around to taste him, and my nose filled with the aroma of his manly musk and sweat. The combination was a like a cocktail that spurred my arousal and my hands, both now, began to pump his shaft as I kissed and sucked the head.

Wanting to give attention to all of his hefty member, I began to kiss my way down the underside of his erection until I reached his large testicles. I then slid my tongue all the way back up to the tip before repeating the process again. On my second descent, and explored his sack some with my mouth and tongue, before returning upwards to take him into my mouth some more.

I felt so animalistic as I attacked his big ebony pole with my wet mouth. Though in the back of my mind I knew I shouldn’t be acting as I was, it was the act itself that kept me going. Even the sounds I could hear outside of my garage of cars passing, drove me to want more. He was right, I wanted to be naughty; I wanted to be naughty for him. So when he began to speak to me in more illicit ways, it only fueled my fire.

“There you go. Doesn’t feel better to just be naughty sometimes?”

Not wanting to take my mouth off of him, I moaned my affirmation.

“I knew from the moment I met you, that this is wanted you wanted. You wanted to be the naughty neighbor you missed around with her new black neighbor. Isn’t that right?”

Again, I could only moan, as I try to take more of his length.

“I’ve noticed that you have started to dress more sexy. Trying to get my attention on your sweet little white ass. You’ve been promoting yourself to me; trying to sell me that you wanted to be my naughty neighbor slut.”

The word slut was like fuel on an open fire for me. It is such a derogatory word, but it was exactly what I was in that moment, and what I secretly hoped to be. The long drawn out moan I let out as he said it, was evidence enough that he was right.