I grew up with my parents in a small apartment in the city. Our next door neighbors were Mr. and Mrs. Huggins, a couple about my parents’ age. They had been living there for longer than I had been alive, so we knew the Huggins’s very well. They didn’t have any kids of their own, and I think because of that they were always very happy to baby sit me and as I got older I was always welcome to drop in any time.
My bedroom wall butted up against theirs, though I don’t think anyone else realized it, and the walls were cheap and thin. From an early age I would hear plenty of strange sounds coming through the wall at night, moans and grunts and naughty words that I didn’t understand. When puberty hit it became clear to me what I was hearing and it fascinated me. I had my parents help me rearrange my room so my bed was against the joining wall and nearly every night I would drift off to the sweet sounds of passionate sex. Sometimes I hear one of them bump into the wall or the sound of the bed bounce and I was dying to see what I had been hearing for all these years.
Mr. Huggins was older than Mrs. Huggins and he was a large man, not obese but certainly heavy set. I imagined a man like that had a sizable cock and absolutely obliterated Mrs. Huggins. Mrs. Huggins herself was in her early forties and was no small fry herself. She wasn’t very tall but she had some weight on her, mostly in places that would catch a man’s eye. Her breasts were massive, moderately saggy but large enough to heave off her chest anyhow, and her ass was full, round, and fat. That said, she wasn’t a fat woman by any stretch, but she was thick all the way through and voluptuous.
Considering the noises I heard and the propensity for a young man’s attention to be easily hypnotized by massive tits and a curvy body, it’s no surprise that Mrs. Huggins positively dripped sexuality to me. Each night that the sweet noises flooded my room I would lie awake with the sheets off, my stiff cock standing proudly, and pump out load after load to the delicious sound of Mrs. Huggins shuddering through another orgasm.
When I was fifteen, Mr. Huggins had a heart attack and passed away abruptly. The shock of it was devastating to Mrs. Huggins and greatly saddened our family since we had known them forever. For a long time the adjacent apartment was silent a I did my best to forget about my attraction to Mrs. Huggins. Sure, when I saw her I still noticed her luscious form but I was a teenager, I had a handful of different girlfriends on and off, and generally I thought my pubescent years of masturbating to my middle aged neighbor were over.
That is until one night last week, now age seventeen, when just as I crawled into bed I began to hear strange sounds through the apartment walls. I recognized them immediately as Mrs. Huggins voice, fluttering through different octaves as she was washed through with pleasure, but I didn’t hear her partner. I listened intently, my cock throbbing, until I finally pieced it together: she was alone, pleasuring herself. This image in my mind, of Mrs. Huggins soft skin rocking as she penetrated herself and slammed out successive orgasms just inches from me, sent me through the roof. I stroked out the largest and most powerful load I’d ever seen, splattering the bed and soaking myself, before collapsing in delight. Once again, Mrs. Huggins tantalizing form was forefront on my mind.
The next day I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t focus at school, and spent the entire day carefully hiding my rock hard boner. Mrs. Huggins invaded my thoughts and teased my mind. The day flew by and I trundled home, in a hurry to reach the privacy of my room and relieve my aching cock. I must have stomped my way up the stairs and through the hall because as I approached our apartment I heard a door open behind me.
“Johnny, oh great, I thought I heard you.”
I turned and smiled at Mrs. Huggins. She stood in her doorway and my jaw dropped. She had been exercising, clearly, and she was flushed and sweaty. She wore only a stringy tank top, her tits held firm in a sports bra, but plenty of cleavage and soft tummy skin were visible. Below she had on grey exercise shorts that clung to her, and I tried desperately not to stare at the obvious camel toe that winked at me.
“Oh, hi Mrs. H., what’s up?” I said nonchalantly.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you whenever I saw you next, but you’re a tough boy to get a hold of,” she smiled.
“Yeah, I’ve been playing some sports this year, and you know, starting to look at colleges, so I guess I’ve been pretty busy.”
She nodded. “Good, busy is good. All that activity should be keeping you out of trouble,” she laughed and tapped my arm. My cock throbbed. “But, now that you’re here, do you have a sec?”
“Uh, sure, I guess,” I really wanted to get home and take care of the tremendous load that had been boiling up in me all day, but I couldn’t resist spending some more time stealing glances at Mrs. Huggins.
“Great, ok, it will only take a second,” she could tell I was anxious to leave. “I’ve got something for you, c’mon in.”
Mr. and Mrs. Huggins had always given me birthday and Christmas presents, that was how close we were, but it wasn’t near either of those occasions so I was a little confused.
“It’s just a little something that Gary had for years and wanted to give to you once you were old enough,” she explained as we slowly made our way though her apartment. “Oh, he always thought of you as like a nephew that he never had, you know?” I smiled, happy to watch Mrs. Huggins’ ass wiggle as she led me to a spare room.
“I can wait out here if you…” I started, trying to be polite.
“Nonsense, Johnny, come here. It’s just in this closet somewhere. You know, after Gary passed I had so much stuff that I didn’t want to get rid of, so I just boxed it all up and stuffed it in this old room. Now, I know it’s in the closet,” she said as she threw the closet door open. Inside was an utter mess. The closet was deep and dark, overflowing with shoeboxes, clothes, knick-knacks, bags, and random belongings. My eyes were devouring Mrs. Huggins’ glowing, sticky skin as she stared at the closet, puzzled.
“Well,” she smiled at me, “just give me a second and I know I’ll find it.” With that she leaned into the pile of stuff and began rifling through it, pulling bags open and popping tops off boxes. She muttered to herself as she did, trying to remember.
She dropped to her knees and began to dig through the junk. She leaned way into the closet and was practically lost in the refuse. My brain suddenly snapped, somehow, and I became totally intent and focused on her bent form. She was on her knees and bent over, digging way deep inside the closet, her round ass jutting up at me. Her tiny shorts were squeezed against her thick thighs and began to ride up. As she stretched they rode in further, now the supple bottom of her ass was exposed and I yearned to touch it. I felt myself losing control, losing control of myself, and I don’t even remember undoing my pants but I suddenly realized they were around my ankles and I was stroking my cock.
The last tiny voice of reason in my brain was silenced as Mrs. Huggins continued to stretch and I watched with rapture as her shorts rode far up into her ass, the sweet curves of her delicate areas no longer hidden from me, and the years of building lust overcame me.
I stepped out of my pants, my cock positively pulsing, and attacked. I grabbed the waist of her shorts, pushing my fingers in to make sure I had both her shorts and her panties, and pulled both down harshly. Mrs. Huggins delectable ass sprung free of its tight prison. It was fat and round and beautiful to me. I heard a shocked cry but didn’t care. My mouth watered at the sight of curly pussy hair and a lovely naked ass. With both hands firmly planted on her soft, squishy ass I spread her. I watched as her pussy hole yawned before me, something I’d dreamed about for a long time, but I was absolutely blown away when I saw her puckered, brown asshole. I’d been with a few girls so far, this isn’t the first pussy I’d ever seen, but I had no anal experience, and the sight of Mrs. Huggins’ yummy asshole bare and helpless before me was the most wonderful thing I’d ever seen.
I felt Mrs. Huggins buck and try to back up but in her position I held her easily. I nudged the head of my throbbing cock up against her butt hole and I heard her shocked cry. As I pushed she screamed and struggled but it was fruitless, I overwhelmed her and dominated her. I could tell she was screaming for help but her cries were muffled by the closet and it’s belongings, the volume of her cries would not even escape the room.
Mrs. Huggins clenched her ass against my assault but it caved easily to the sound of a long, drawn out, pained moan. I wasn’t experienced but I could tell Mrs. Huggins’ ass had accommodated a cock or two in her time. I pushed in slowly, savoring each millimeter of my fantasy, until I was buried within her. She still yelled for help but her cries were broken and interrupted by deep grunts and moans.
I throttled Mrs. Huggins’ ass, the heat and pressure of her bowels driving me to lust I’d never known existed. I was rough with her, fucking down hard and landing deep, pistoning in and out of her mercilessly. Her cries of pain and agony only engorged my cock, somehow it felt better knowing she hadn’t asked for it. There was something about doing something so selfish, something that pleasured me at the expense of another, that drove me wild. I found I was grunting and swearing too, moaning each time my balls slapped her pussy and with each spastic clenched of her inner walls.
A thunderous and volcanic orgasm pumped out of me. I unloaded deep within her, my cum blasting forth harder and thicker than it had even the night before, and I heard myself swearing at her, calling her a fucking whore and telling her to swallow my cum with her filthy ass. I spent myself in her like I’d never felt before, and long afterwards I held her down and savored the feeling of being clenched in her ass. I was sure there was enough lust and passion coursing through me that my cock could have done it all again, but my senses returned and I realized what had just happened.
I said nothing but I hurriedly redressed and fled. I went home, where else would I go? All afternoon and evening I waited for anything, constantly on edge, not knowing if Mrs. Huggins would come over herself, tell my parents, call the cops, or what.
But nothing happened. Life went on like normal, though I was certain at any moment my sin would be revealed and my life would crash. Then last night, lying in bed wide awake and still contemplating what was going on, I heard a whisper through the wall: “Johnny? Can you hear me? I’m lonely Johnny, won’t you come over?”