The Neighbor

I remember to this day the heated look in his eyes as he bent me over the counter and plowed into me from behind. The feel of his bruising grip and thunderous pounding of his hips. The delicious heady smell of sex and his cologne still cause a head rush with just the thought of it. That night was the best night in the world. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I can remember it like it was yesterday. His hot breath on the back of my neck, the feel of his rough calloused hands on my hips as he grips my waist. The sweetness of the surrender I give into as it becomes almost too much pressure inside of me.

Today I can’t help but to remember everything that happened with my neighbor Michael. I’ve been told that he’s a fireman. I ordered the catalogue of calenders to see if he’s on one of them. I love the look of a fireman in full gear holding a powerful hose. Something about it just gets me all tingly on the inside. It’s always been my dream to have my very own fireman as my one true love. I stop at my mailbox to get the mail and see a box on my front steps. I pick it up and see the address of the catalogue studio. I take it inside with me and put it on the coffee table in the living room to look at after dinner.

I gather the stuff together to make spaghetti with garlic bread before making my way to the stove. I slice up the loaf of bread and spread garlic and butter and cheese on it. I gather the noodles and put them in the boiling pot of water. After a few minutes I drain the noodles and put the sauce in it, I take a plate of food and and a glass of wine to the coffee table to eat and watch tv. After I eat I put the dishes in the sink and go back to the coffee table.

I gather up the box and open it. There’s a stack of ten catalogues in the box. I get through five of them before I come across the first one with my neighbor in it. Instead of him wearing a full suit he only has his pants on with his suspenders over his deliciously sun kissed muscular shoulders. I can’t help but run the tip of my pointer finger over the line of muscles in his shoulders and arms as I remember the feel of his muscles underneath my soft hands. The feel of the sweat dripping off his body onto mine makes my thighs quench at the need of something filling me up.

I look around as if someone can see what I’m thinking about and feeling. I have to do what I feel like I have to do though. Maybe if I just let myself go ahead and do what I need it’ll go away. I need this feeling to go away. I hate that he has the control to do these things to my body without even being in my presence. How can one time with a man so delicious of a specimen as him have complete control over my body. He’s not even here and he has won over my battle of wills. All I want is another go at him. I want him over and over and over again. Why can’t I control my body urges? Why can’t I make this need stop? Will he give me another chance? Or will I be stuck in this situation until I find another man who can control my body in the same way? I need to figure something out. I either go back to him and ask him to fill this void inside of me. Or I go on a search for someone else to help me out long term.