Stuck Up Neighbor

Chris rolled out of bed at 5:45 am every morning to go to his shit job for shit pay every week. At 5:50 he took a shower every morning. At 6:00 a.m. he started his truck and had a cigarette.

And between 6:00 am and 6:05 am, he watched his neighbor walk around naked (or in next to nothing) through her window. It was the one part of his entire shit day that he enjoyed.

Her routine was the same every morning too. By the time he started his truck, she was standing by the window in some kind of sexy lingerie, putting on her makeup or doing her hair. Some days, if he was running early or she was running behind, he could see her totally naked, picking her underwear out and slipping it on her evenly tanned body (if it wasn't the buttcrack of dawn he would make more of an effort to get up for this).

He loved watching her through the sheer curtains, her generous cleavage shaking as she dried her long dark hair. She was kind of a small person but she had to be a C. Her tits were firm but had that perfect jiggle. She had a small waist and a perfect, round ass from working out daily. Her ass was the best part. Chris loved watching her turn around. She always wore a tiny thong and her hips swayed as she walked away from the window. You might say her panties didn't leave much to the imagination, but Chris could imagine doing about a million things to her ass in those panties. He wondered what the hell she did for a living that she would wear underwear like that every day. He wondered what her husband thought of her dressing that way. Her husband worked nights. Chris knew he couldn't get to enjoy his wife's collection very often with that schedule.

Chris chuckled and snuffed his cigarette out. He didn't like the husband. He was stuck up. Hell, they both were. When they first moved to the neighborhood they seemed cool. The girl had even come over for a beer a few times while Chris and his friends were out back grilling. Chris had a feeling that the husband didn't approve, because suddenly she was never out back and didn't come over again. Sometimes she would wave politely, but she had stopped talking to him or the other neighbors. They definitely had more money than everyone else. Chris had seen them bring home multiple TVs, furniture, even a new car in the last year. The rest of the people on their block were barely making ends meet, living paycheck to paycheck. Everyone else worked a blue-collar job but she dressed in business clothes for work every day and the husband was some kind of supervisor or manager. When they first moved in, the guy had let Chris walk through the place. They'd had a lot of nice things that Chris didn't have. So, Chris didn't feel guilty about copping a look every morning. He deserved that much.

In the afternoons when Chris got home from work, he watched her take her dog out for a run. She always wore snug athletic clothes that showed off her tight body. He waved at her today, but she either didn't see him or pretended not too. He admired her shaking curved ass anyway. Jim, who he carpooled with in the afternoons, echoed Chris's thoughts as they drove past.

"Damn I'd like to see that ass bouncing on the end of my dick."

Chris grunted in agreement. "Ayuh. Stuck up bitch needs it." He flicked his cigarette butt out of the window in her direction.

It was Friday. Chris and Jim had picked up two 30-packs and were ready to grill and party the rest of the day. Chris knew the noise and smoke drove his neighbors nuts. That's why he hosted nearly every weekend. It was that weekend that Chris got the idea.

The next day, the husband was in the back yard, looking at his deck. Chris was quietly watching from his own deck. He didn't think the guy even noticed him there. As he watched, the man screwed something into the underside of the deck. It looked like a little hook. Then, unbelievably, the man pulled a key out of his pocket and hung it on the hook. It was obviously a spare house key. What an idiot, Chris thought. Their dog Max would guard the key, sure. But Chris knew from months of grilling meat back there that Max could easily be bought with a hambone or T-bone. He was sometimes a good watchdog, but not against Chris or his friends who always fed Max little treats when they grilled.

The husband always left by ten pm. Even on weekends. She was there all alone, for ten to twelve hours straight. Her lights were usually out by 11 pm, maybe later if it was a Saturday and she went out that night. And she often went out on Saturdays, usually in a short, tight dress. Not the kind of dress a wife should be wearing out when she's not with her husband. Chris cracked open a hair-of-the-dog beer, watching the husband pet the mutt and go inside. Slut, he thought, picturing one of the tiny dresses she'd left wearing the previous weekend, she wants it.

It only took another week of muddling through a dry spell for his idea to take full formation. She'd gone out again that weekend. She'd peeled down the street and parked sloppily in her driveway, teetering in spike pumps to her door. He'd happened to be in front, smoking a cigarette when she did. Her dress had ridden all the way up, and he got a spectacular view of her plump cheeks, this time not obscured by sheer curtains and distance. He'd almost just followed her into her house right then, she appeared so drunk he didn't think she'd notice. But he knew, for something like that to work, would take careful planning on his part.

He bided his time, and two weeks later, he found his opportunity. It was another Saturday evening, it was another night of partying for her, and it was another obscenely short dress. She stumbled up her steps. Chris didn't follow her, though. He waited a few minutes and went around the house to make sure all her lights were off. They weren't, but he could plainly see that she's passed out on the bed fully clothed, or her approximation of that. He ran to his garage and grabbed duct tape, rope, his handgun, and a ski mask. Pulling the mask on, he stopped at his grill on the way to their deck. He grabbed some charred brats that he'd left on last night. He whistled to Max softly.

The dog came willingly, of course, happily eating the treats from Chris's hand. The ski mask didn't seem to bother the dog at all. Chris crept towards the key, and the dog followed behind silently, just wagging his dumb tail. Chris smiled to himself as he plucked the key from its home. He tossed the rest of the meat to the dog, then quietly, quietly entered the house through the kitchen. The lights were off in here, he took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust. He knew once he got to his destination, if she woke up, he'd have to act quickly. He unlooped some rope and got a corner of the tape peeled back, stealthily slithering through the house to the bedroom. The handgun was unloaded, in fact didn't even carry a magazine and he'd checked the chamber earlier that day. It was for threat only. If there was one thing he knew about women, it was that most of them didn't like guns.

All the lights were on in there. The door was half-open, so he could easily conceal himself in the shadows while he assessed her position. The TV was on, providing a sound cover to his heavy breathing. He peered around the corner and saw her splayed across the bed, face down, ass to him in perfect view: her dress had ridden up again. She was wearing tiny panties but he would fix that situation soon enough.

He took a deep breath and strode into the room, closing the distance in seconds. She didn't even move, so he secured a length of rope to her headboard first. He let enough off to get to her hands. Then he sat on her back, so she would be immobilized as she woke up.

He heard her confused moans, but it was too late for her. He had her hands and was easily binding her wrists tightly together and to the bedpost.

"What the fuck..."she said groggily. Before she could lift her head, he tore off a strip of duct tape and placed it over her eyes. Then she started panicking. She called her husband's name, started thrashing. Chris saw her take a deep breath and he quickly leaned over, clamping his hand over her mouth. He pressed the cold barrel of the gun into her jaw and she froze.

"Yeah, you know what that is, dontcha," he whispered. "Do everything I say, and you won't get hurt." He took his hand off her mouth, gun in her neck, and pulled himself up. "If you don't listen to every word I tell you..." He gave her ass a stinging slap, pleased with the loud clap it made. She jumped and gasped. He leaned in her ear and finished, "there will be consequences. Do you understand?"

She whimpered and nodded. Chris stood up and got to rearranging things to his liking. First he pulled his mask off. He set the gun down out of her reach on the end table, then pulled her up by her ass so it was in the air, her head down on the mattress. She gave a sobbing moan.

"You'll want to keep quiet now, sweetheart," he rasped. He reached to push her dress the rest of the way up her hips, and pulled her tiny panties down. He admired her pussy lips and asshole, noticing that she was perfectly shaved. Just how he liked them.

Then he got a brilliant idea, and took his phone out. He took a photo of her ass in the air, panties at her knees. He'd be sure to take plenty more tonight.

She started to talk when she heard the sound of pictures being taken. "Please," she begged, "don't do this." Chris delivered another stinging spank, this time right on her pussy. She yelped. He picked up the gun and pressed the barrel against her thigh. That shut the slut up real quick.

The panties were cute. He pulled them back up carelessly and went to the zipper of her dress. He pulled it slowly. As he thought, she was wearing matching lingerie. He roughly ripped the straps of the dress, then yanked it down over her hips and off her legs so he could appreciate the Victoria's Secret or whatever it was. He tossed aside the clingy dress, and walked around to the other side of the bed and took another picture of her laying on her side. He took his gun with him. He repositioned her again, this time on all fours. Standing in front of her, he pulled his rock-hard cock out. He put his hands on the back of her head so she could feel the weight of his piece, inching onto the bed in front of her. "You don't want to make any mistakes here," he hissed, pushing the tip of his dick up to her mouth. She opened obediently.

He'd been waiting a long time for this. He shoved his cock into her mouth and right down her throat with no regard for her comfort. How many times had he pulled one out, imagining her full, slutty lips around his dick? He pulled out of her mouth and slapped her across the face with it, grinning, then heaved it back in. She gagged a little but made no other protest. He grabbed her by the hair, tossing the gun aside so he could leverage both hands. He began fucking her face hard, not giving her any warm-up. The sounds of her choking on his cock delighted and spurred him on. He continued the attack on her mouth for just a minute or so, but he had much more planned for her. He pulled out and slapped her across the face with it again. Strings of saliva dripped down her chin onto the nice comforter, and she coughed and gasped.

"Turn over," he growled. He'd tied her to only one bedpost so he could see her from all angles. Shaking, she did as told. He slapped the inside of her thighs to get her to spread her legs. He pulled her tits out of the top of the bra and took another picture. He handled her tits roughly, squeezing them painfully. She whimpered but did not cry out - a fast learner. As he mauled her tits he watched her tiny pink nipples get hard. He rubbed his calloused thumbs over them, then twisted them cruelly between his fingers.

"S-stop!" she protested, "You're hurting me!" She began to writhe away from his grip. Maybe not as fast a learner as he thought. He ripped the pretty bra off her body and slapped her across her face, hard enough to leave a red welt. Then he grabbed a tit in one hand and began slapping it with the other. He leaned over and sucked her nipple hard, so hard it brought tears to her eyes.

"You don't want me leaving marks on you for your husband to find, do you?" he whispered. She shook her head no. "The only thing coming out of your mouth is my cock, you understand me?" She nodded now, silently. He slapped her again, on the mouth, but lightly.

He sat back to enjoy his work so far. Her perfect tits were bright red and probably throbbing. The one he'd grabbed had his handprint on it still. He gave her sensitive nipple a flick. Then he pressed her tits together, kneeling over her chest, and began titty-fucking her fast. As his cock jackknifed between her soft tits, the head of it started hitting her in the chin. He could tell from the shape of her lips that she was crying again.

"Stop that shit," he snapped. He climbed off her. He grabbed her panties by the full part in the front, and began dragging the material back and forth across her pussy lips, like he'd seen girls in the porns do. "Don't act like you don't like it," he taunted. He could see her clit starting to push out from between her lips. Un-fucking-believable, he thought, I was right. He ripped her now soaking panties off her. He held them up to his face and breathed deeply to smell her arousal. Satisfied, he stuffed the wet materiel into her trembling mouth and clamped his hand over it. He grabbed the duct tape and sealed the panties in her mouth so she could taste herself the rest of the night. She started shaking her head hard as if that would loosen the tape but it was fruitless. He chuckled.

With her lying on her back, he pulled her legs apart, got between them, and pushed her knees up toward her shoulders so her pussy and ass were on full display for him. Despite her protests, her little clit was still hard, and her pussy was so wet that it was glistening. He pushed two of his coarse fingers right into her. She made a gasping sound as he finger-fucked her brutally, but her whimpers quickly turned to moans.

"That's it you fuckin' whore, you want this dick," he breathed. She shook her head and made a 'no' sound through the gag but he just wiped his wet fingers on her face and positioned himself between her legs. He held her ankles and forcefully thrust his cock into her dripping wet slit. He went all the way to the balls on the first pass and her body shuddered in protest, her cunt trying to accommodate the intrusion. He began pumping quickly until he was pistoning in and out of her hard and fast, watching her tits bounce so hard they just about hit her in the face.

He fucked her so violently her ass made a clapping sound against him as hot, wet skin slapped against skin. He cried out, coming close, and grabbed a tit, pinching a nipple. He picked up the pace and was dimly aware that she was practically screaming in ecstasy through her gag but by that point he knew he was done and he felt his balls tighten. At the same time he felts a gushing wetness around his cock and knew that the dirty slut had come all over his dick. He wasted no more time and pulled out of her, shooting his wad so hard that it flew across her body, landing on her chin, neck, between her tits. He took his time to catch his breath, watching come dribble down her sides.

Chris pulled his pants back up and replaced the ski mask. Wordlessly he collected his things: gun down the back of his pants, rope and tape dangling from his arm. Last, he untied one hand so she could free herself. In the time it took for her to take off the tape and untie her other hand, he had disappeared out the back door.