Neighbor Dearest
“What are you doing?”
“I’m suddenly hungry.”
“For what?” I joked.
“For your ass.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Just a little snack.”
“You don’t do anything little, Damien.”
“You go in first. Then, I’ll follow when the cashier isn’t paying attention.”
Making my way past the aisles of chips and candy, I hoped the attendant didn’t notice me enter the single occupancy unisex bathroom.
I looked at myself in the mirror and laughed at my red-faced complexion. A minute later, in my reflection, I could see Damien opening the door behind me. My nipples hardened in anticipation.
With his chest pressed against my back, he immediately began to devour my neck. Placing my hands on the sink for balance, I watched us in the mirror. Damien groaned as he lifted my dress and admired my ass. I loved watching the look of desperation on his face. There was no bigger turn-on than witnessing how much he wanted me.
The buckle of his belt clanked as he undid his pants, letting them fall halfway down his legs. Within seconds, I felt his thick cock pushing inside of me with ease because of how wet I was. All of that talk in the car had really gotten me going.
“Someone was ready,” he teased. “Fuck, you’re wet.” He slowly glided in and out of me.
I nodded silently and pushed my hips back into him. “I’m always ready for you.”
“I fucking love it,” he rasped.
Damien’s eyes were smoldering as he stared at me through the mirror. He cracked a slight smile as he fucked me harder. He loved watching me lose control as much as I loved watching him.
“Look how beautiful you are when I’m inside of you, how pink your cheeks are.” He slapped my ass. “These cheeks, too.”
“I love when you do that.”
“Keep your eyes on me,” he demanded. “I like to watch you looking at me when you come.” Through the mirror, our eyes remained fixed on each other as he continued to pound into me.
When someone knocked on the door, Damien placed his hand over my mouth and yelled, “Just a minute!”
“Shit,” I mouthed.
He whispered in my ear, “Fuck it. Take your time. We’re not leaving until you come. I’ll wait for you.”
Grabbing my hips, he guided me with smooth precision over his cock until I’d completely forgotten that anyone was waiting for us. My muscles pulsated around him. I watched his eyes roll back as his hot cum shot inside of me. I could never get enough of this.
He flipped me around and spoke over my lips, “You slay me, Chelsea.”
“We’d better get out of here.”
I followed Damien out of the bathroom as we did our mini walk of shame back to his truck. All eyes in the store were on us.
It was worth every shred of embarrassment.***We pulled up to a small, gray stucco house.
The street Damien grew up on in San Jose’s Willow Glen neighborhood was quiet and residential.
My palms were sweaty as I rubbed them together.
Damien placed his hand on my leg to stop me from bouncing it up and down. “You nervous? Don’t be.”
“I am. Very.”
“She’s gonna love you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I’ve already told her a lot about you. So, it’s like she already knows you.”
“How long has she known about me?”
“I used to talk about you to her before we ever got together.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
My heart was racing as we exited the car.
Damien’s mother answered the door with a tiny dog yelping at her feet. She was really even more beautiful than I remembered from the one photo that Damien had shown me. Both Damien and Tyler definitely got their dark looks from her.
She smiled at Damien before looking at me.
He spoke first. “Chelsea, this is my mother, Monica.”
She gave me her hand. My own hand was trembling a bit as I extended it to her. “I’m sorry. I’m so nervous.”
“Me, too.” She smiled. The fact that she also seemed nervous comforted me a bit.
“Really?”
“Yes. Of course, I am.” She smiled over at Damien. “How was your ride?”
Damien looked at me impishly. “The ride was absolutely perfect.”
I felt my face heat up.
“Good,” she said. “Well, I made your favorite sausage lasagna for lunch. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving,” he said.
“Why don’t you show Chelsea around? I’m just gonna go back in the kitchen and check on the oven.”
Trying to calm my nerves, Damien traced his fingertips along my arm and kissed my cheek.
The décor was very Bohemian with lots of vibrant patterns. Despite her shy nature, Monica’s style seemed to be very adventurous and indicative of a free spirit. Damien had mentioned that while not very religious, his mother was quite spiritual.
Noticing some family pictures on a table, I made my way over to the living room. Damien followed me and snatched a frame out of my hand just as I lifted it.
“You can’t look at that.”