CNG (Cute Neighbor Girl) Ch. 06

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A double date leads to double headaches.
13.4k words
4.75
114.9k
34

Part 6 of the 6 part series

Updated 10/12/2022
Created 04/26/2010
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CaptBionic
CaptBionic
169 Followers

How did I get myself into this situation?

I found myself in a relationship with a girl named Becca. Becca was a cute, flirtatious redhead with a killer body. Petite and lithe, she was thin, flexible, and generally the type of girl you could fling about during sex. Just place her wherever you wanted her. And, she was willing to be placed anywhere. She was a willing and eager partner. She was also smart, and could hold her own in conversations on many a topic.

The problem was, despite the fact that she was smart, funny, and screwed like a Tasmanian devil after an Ecstasy and Red Bull smoothie, I just didn't have strong feelings for her. It was, in fact, more than a slightly arguable point that she was far more attractive than I guy like me should be with.

What was it?

Well, more to the point, who? I was still carrying the torch for a girl name Danni. She was cute, flirty, and my neighbor. And coworker, although we didn't work directly together any longer. Things got a little too intense between her and I, and she saw fit to put some distance between us.

And, although it shouldn't enter in to it, the idea that I only wanted to be with Danni certainly did enter in to it. She was dating someone else. She wasn't "available" to me because she was dating someone else. And, even if she was available, who knows if she even wanted to date me? So, if I did break up with Becca, chances were good I'd be alone.

So, I kind of went through the motions with Becca. I know that sounds bad, being with someone only to avoid being alone, but that's how I felt about it. The only thing that was really missing in our relationship was a spark. Otherwise, on paper, it was a beautiful equation. She seemed far more in to me than I her. Despite not being in to her, I was still in her frequently enough. What was my problem; couldn't I just sit back and enjoy things?

We had been seeing each other for about 6 weeks. It was late summer. This means it was warm, passions ran hot, and clothing was less, ahem, cumbersome. Despite all of these factors, I was seriously considering breaking it off with Becca. It just didn't seem fair to her to keep her around, going out, spending the night with each other if I knew it wasn't going anywhere. I resolved that I should take care of it that Friday night, when we went out.

Our dates at this point, had moved beyond the "wow her with a fancy place with cloth napkins and a wine list" to "Pizza and a Movie OK with you?" We were sitting at a local pizza place, half way through a pitcher and a pie.

Another good thing about Becca is we could agree on pizza toppings. I tended to follow the "No F" rule for pizza toppings: No Fish, No Fruit, and No Fungus. She could easily live within those guidelines. Yet one more reason why I felt bad about having to break it off with her, albeit about as minor a reason as one could get.

I fell quiet towards the end of our meal, wanting to bring up an ugly topic, but not having the right moment to steer the conversation down that path.

After dinner, we headed to her place, mostly in silence. I pulled in to Becca's apartment complex. It was about 10:00pm. I had tried at various points to bring up what was on my mind on the way back here, but Becca seemed immune to that discussion. I honestly didn't think she was avoiding it, or even knew that my heart wasn't in it. It was just every time I'd start a prelude to the topic of "us", the discussion would change direction instantly, like a school of small fish in a Jacques Cousteau documentary.

I pulled in to one of the guest parking spots near her apartment, and turned off my car. I looked at her, and she leaned in for a kiss. We kissed a little, and things started to get more involved. I was trying to pull away, and she was trying to check my tonsils for signs of inflammation.

"Hey there Tiger, hang on one second," I finally got a word in when she came up for air.

"What? I was just getting started," she protested.

"I want to talk... talk about us for a second," I started.

"Nope."

"What do you mean, 'nope?'"

"It's pretty self-explanatory. Nope. No talking right now. Less talking, more kissing!" she started in again.

"Hang on a bit, I really need to get something out," I tried again.

She stopped. "So do I. I need to get your dick out of your pants, right now." She started to try to undo my cargo shorts, which was tough because I was sitting down and all sorts of things were in the way like seat belts and steering wheels.

"Um, that wasn't what I had in mind... No really, can you JUST STOP for one minute!"

"No, I know what you want to say, and I don't want to hear it. So, I can't hear it if you can't say it," with that, she reached over, grabbed the keys from the ignition, and jumped out of the car. She started to bound away, her long legs moving under her light skirt like a gazelle's. Her curly red hair flying around her head like a localized forest fire. I sat in the car for a moment, resigned to fate. I watch Becca bounce around, and do the occasional cartwheel in the grass. Her skirt flipped up occasionally, revealing the fact that she must have forgotten to put on any sort of underwear. I'd discovered that she only owned about 5 pairs of panties, she went commando under her clothes that often.

I got out of the car, and just leaned against the fender. I at least needed my keys back to get home, and I wasn't in the mood to chase her. As if I'd catch her, really.

She ran near me, teasing me. I caught her easily, mainly because she allowed me to, rather than my ability to run down a gazelle like a cheetah. I had pretty much backed her up to the hood of my car, so she was trapped between my fender and me.

"May I, pretty please, have my car keys back?" I asked, nicely. She responded by dropping them down her tank top. She pulled her skirt up around her waist, exposing her neatly trimmed bush to anyone who cared to look. She then hopped up on the hood of my car and, in a flash, wrapped her legs around me, crossing them at the ankle. She pulled me close and started to kiss me hard. She pulled my torso in really close to her by squeezing her legs together and digging her heels in to my ass cheeks.

She released her legs just enough to reach her hand in between us and undo my shorts. As they started to slide down, she reached in to my underwear to grab my cock. She freed it, and moved herself forward so her ass was just at the edge of the fender. I could actually smell her arousal at that point. I looked down, her shaved lips were slick and shiny with moisture, just below her little Hitler's mustache of public hair.

"Fuck me now" she said in a deep, low voice that was nearly scary.

All thoughts of breaking up with her went out the window. I know if we started fucking right now, I really couldn't end with "I think we should take a break from each other." But, logic went out the window at this point. I popped up on the balls of my feet just a bit, and started to move the head of my now rock hard dick up and down her slit. I reached down with one hand and ran my index finger over her clit. She responded by grabbing my penis and aiming it at her gaping hole. She tightened her legs around me, which rammed my cock all the way in to her cunt.

I started to pump in to her pretty quickly. She was always able to get wet in a hurry, and doing this on the warm hood of a car in her parking lot got her really, really wet. I felt like I was fucking a sponge. Evidently, doing it outside was a big turn on for her, and she had a hard time keeping quiet about it.

I was looking around nervously, waiting for the police helicopters to show up. Here I was, my shorts around my ankles, pounding a girl on the hood of my car, whilst being surrounded on three sides by 3-story apartment buildings in a well lit parking lot. Anyone popping out for a quick smoke on their balcony would see my pale ass going back and forth, and Becca's moaning would ensure we were heard. She was so wet, I would have bet that people could have heard the noises her pussy was making as I worked in and out of it. However, despite my misgivings about Becca, about public screwing, and about anything else, I kept slamming in to her. Whatever I was planning on saying about breaking up was lost to the ether.

I had my hands around her hips, and was pulling her tight in to me. This was pure fucking. I felt like I couldn't get in to her as deep as I wanted, but kept pounding her anyway. As this rate, it wouldn't take too long for me to come. At least I hoped. I had never fucked anyone in a situation like this, where we could easily be discovered. It was a turn for me, but I couldn't quite forget where we were. The paranoia was just enough to keep me from coming instantly. Becca did not seem to have this problem, as she had now leaned back across the hood of my car, her fingers moving at a high subsonic velocity on her clit while I was still fucking her as quickly as I could.

After maybe a minute of her fingers on her button, she started to come. I could see her back starting to arch, I could feel her muscles starting to tighten around my cock. She got a little louder, and I kept looking around. As she continued to come she actually opened her eyes and looked right at me. The stare was a combination of raw lust and a sort of helplessness. For once, she just mouthed the filthy things she was saying. Fuck. Yes. God. Come.

It was as if I held the key to all of her pleasure in what I was doing. I started to pound as hard as I could, I felt my balls slapping her ass and could hear the squeak of her bare skin on the metal of my car. The front of my car was at exactly the right height for this, it turns out. I had never checked before.

She finally exhaled, signaling that she was coming down off of her orgasm. I still had mine to go. Becca sat up, and put one of her arms around my neck. She leaned in close, her sweaty neck and chin touching mine.

"Come on baby, come inside of me. Do it, fuck me here where people can see us. Fuck me..." Becca egged me on.

"Do you want me to make love you to out here, where anyone can see?" I asked. "Or, do you want me to FUCK you out here?" It was a rhetorical question, whispered roughly in to her ear.

"Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck fuck fuck fuck..." Becca was now mumbling her lewd directions to me.

Since she wanted to be fucked, we would fuck. I pulled out of her. This drew a gasp. I then lifted her up off of the hood of my car and on to her feet. I kissed her, and before she could respond, I turned her around and bent her over with one of my hands on her back right between her shoulder blades. I moved that hand in her hair at the base of her skull, and put my other hand on her hip. I pulled her skirt up and over her hips, exposing her ass and soaking wet pussy to the world. I held her skirt up with my both my hands now on her waist. I moved her feet apart with one of mine, like a cop about to frisk and handcuff a perp. Without warning, I slammed my hips in to her ass, and slid my dick all the way in to her wet, open box, to her cervix, with one push. I moved both my hands to her hips, and as I fucked her, I pulled her back towards me as much as I was thrusting forward. It was rough, and it felt good.

She apprised me of my progress with a simple "Ungh." I continued to just thrust as quickly as possible.

Usually when I'm in from behind like this, I can come pretty quickly. Today was an exception. It must have been the combination of standing up, the threat of being seen, and the constant barrage of mosquitoes that kept me from coming in less than 30 seconds. However, as I pulled her towards me, I started to feel my orgasm build.

I kept up my pace. I moved my hands further down her hips, towards her ass. She was slender enough that my hands could wrap nearly half way around her. I used this advantage to pull her cheeks open a bit, allowing me to go deeper in to her moist tunnel.

I slid one of my thumbs towards her tightly puckered pink asshole. It was glistening from our previous position, plenty of Becca's wetness has oozed down it. I pressed on it, and was rewarded by a squeal. I bent my thumb, and was able to push the tip of my thumb in. I could feel a jolt from Becca. I kept fucking her pussy, and slowly pushing my thumb in to her for a little anal stimulation she didn't seem to mind. Within a few seconds, she relaxed her sphincter enough that I could easily move my thumb in and out.

In fact, she started to get louder. Too loud for my comfort, but I just kept fucking her. I couldn't stop, logic had taken the last train out of town on this one. I found a new urgency in my pace.

Although I am not an ass man, I found it incredibly hot that she was OK with something in her ass. Most women I had been with were decidedly NOT OK with it. I quickly brought my thoughts back to what I was doing, and that I was about to come.

When I did finally blow my load, it felt unbelievable. The combination of being outside, doing it standing up, a thumb up her ass and everything else all came together. I felt like I spasmed for a while, and Becca took over, bucking her hips against me. By this time, I had almost my whole thumb in her ass, and I continued to work it in and out while I came. I could feel her wetness and my come mixing, and there were a lot of both.

After pumping for a few more strokes, I slowly pulled out of both her holes. I was rapidly starting to soften. I looked around, and didn't see anyone out. I wouldn't be opposed to being naked outside, I just didn't need to tagged with the "sex offender" label for a quick fuck with an audience. I pulled up my shorts. Becca, on the other hand seemed fine to lay there on the hood of my car.

"God, that was good. We should fuck on your car more often." Becca said as she straightened up. She made no move to lower her skirt right way. She was a vision as she stood there. Her white skirt was around her waist, her red hair was a mess, plastered to her forehead in places with sweat. Her tank top was covered with moisture between her small tits. Her nipples were hard enough to hang dry cleaning on. I couldn't see it, but I was sure our fluids were running down her legs. This was a woman who had that "Freshly Fucked" look about her.

"Now, I know what you wanted to talk about before," she started. "But first, I have to pee."

I asked her if we should head inside her place, but she declined.

"No, it's really nice out here; let's go sit over there by the playground."

"I thought you said you had to pee?" I asked.

"I do, but this is one the advantages of wearing a long skirt. I can't tell you how many times I've done this, mainly while tailgating before concerts." With that she squatted down in the grass, her skirt somewhat covering herself, and she began to pee. At one point, with a giggle, she lifted her skirt up and flashed me her pussy with a nice stream of pee coming out. I don't really get off on golden showers, mind you, but seeing her casually pee in her own parking lot was interesting. It was more of a turn on in the "you shouldn't do this" sort of way than in a "fetish" thing for me. After all women don't normally pee in public the way a guy would. For a guy, the world is your urinal. It's somehow different for girls.

"I love peeing outside. I don't know why, but you feel free. You should try it," she said. She stood up after about 30 seconds, and smoothed her skirt down.

"Wow, I've got all sorts of fluids running down my legs right now. Sweat, my cum, your cum, pee... I'm a mess!" she giggled, and seemed rather unconcerned by it.

We reached the park bench in the little playground area of her apartment complex. We sat down, and she held my hand. She looked at me, and I feared for the worst. I wanted to end it because my heart wasn't in it. I'm sure the Big Talk we were going to have would end poorly.

"Ok," she started, "you wanted to talk. I know what you want to say. You think it's time we get serious. Well, I don't want to get serious. I'm having fun. "Really? That's how you feel?" I asked. This was a surprise. Well, alrighty then. "Seriously, We should just keeping hanging out, having great sex, and getting half drunk together. I don't want a serious relationship right now; I want to just have fun without having to think too much about it."

That was more or less the polar opposite than what I was expecting. I was worried she was ready to pick out china patterns and that because my heart wasn't in it, I was going to hurt poor little Becca. Turns out she just wanted to be, essentially, fuck buddies. I suppose, then, the idea of love didn't really enter in to it. So, it seems like I was, on paper, off the hook for thinking about Danni while I was otherwise banging the living snot out of Becca.

"So," she continued, "I hope that you still want to hang out. I know you were probably more in to me than I was in to you. I'm sorry if I sent mixed signals. But, I had a long-term boyfriend not that long ago, and I don't want to jump immediately in to something else that serious. I'm not looking for a husband right now, just a really good friend who can fuck like a machine, but will leave me alone from time to time if I need my space. Are you cool with that?"

Becca had done almost all of the talking here. I was smart, for once, and just kept my mouth shut. Of course, I'm not really the type of guy that tends to have lots of meaningless sex with women I didn't care about, at least on some level. However, this seemed, to me at least in my post-fuck addled brain, to be a world-class win-win solution here. Besides, it was kind of rude to break up with a woman who had your cum running down her thighs, right?

"I guess what you're saying makes sense. As long as we can still be friends." I decided to keep my answer short and sweet.

"Of course we can, silly. I still want to bounce off of the walls with you. I've also got a lot of things I'd love to experiment with, if you're open to it." She went on. She had turned towards me, and was still holding my hand. She looked at me, right in the eye, and, well, how could I not agree with her at that moment?

"I just don't need you thinking that we're ready to go ring shopping. We're not. I'm not. So if this hurt your feelings, I'm sorry. I hope you're OK," Becca went on.

"Totally cool with it," was my only response. We sat on the bench for little while longer until the mosquitoes had their say. We head back towards Becca's door, whispered our farewells, and then kissed goodnight until my dick started to say hello again. Becca went inside to shower her bodily fluid cocktail away and I drove home.

The next morning, I had to swing through a car wash. The left front fender of my car looked like a large bird had shit on it.

Overall, I was still feeling a bit mixed. Becca essentially gave me a license to fuck without fear of reprisal. No worries, no meeting her parents, no emotional entanglements. Of course, I have an issue with the loveless fucking. Not that I'm morally opposed to it. It's that I wished I could go along with it. I find it hard to just have a physical relationship without an emotional one as well. I tend to get too caught up. In fact, it's probably the whole reason why I'm so fucked-up over Danni to begin with. If I could have just been happy with a flirty neighbor who loved to show some skin and liked to get off together, I would have been golden. People pay for that type of relationship every time they visit a strip club and watch the dancer working around her brass pole of an office. It's an unspoken agreement. She's getting paid for her time, and you, Mr. Customer, are going to go home and jack it. No touching, no emotion, just a "pay to peek" relationship.

But, there was something about Danni's carefree attitude that seemed well at odds with how she and I ended up. We had only hung out together for a couple of weeks. How did it get so screwed up so fast? And, I suppose, she was as guilty as I of the crime of "Getting Too Deep (Class A Felony)." That few weeks of fun was about two months ago. Why was I still hung up on it?

CaptBionic
CaptBionic
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