The Neighbors Ch. 02

Dasha, a Russian Christmas Present

Ben had decorated a Christmas tree in his living room out of habit but had no presents arranged as it was just him, and wrapping presents for himself seemed silly and pathetic.

The neighbor's house next door was unlit and empty, refuting Barbara's promise to return for the holidays.

He had slept alone Christmas Eve, and was awakened in the morning to the sound of cracklings in the living room fireplace. Going downstairs to investigate, he found a large wrapped box next to the Yuletide tree.

Ben doubted that magic elves or Santa Claus had left it for him, probably a giddy friend playing a practical joke. He attempted to lift it and then slide it aside, but it was very heavy and he couldn't move it.

He pulled the end of the big red bow and opened a flap to find another box within the box. A tear on the inner boxes' wrapping gained entry to that one. Peering inside, he saw the whites of eyes staring back. Was it a giant plush toy?

He pulled back in wonder. The box wobbled as a live blonde girl's head appeared through the open top flaps. She smiled his way and stretch a bare arm towards him, a seeming request to help her emerge more from the fancy container. He extended his hand and she used it to boost higher, bringing her torso into view.

Ben now saw a buxom girl in a sheer nightie, her firm full breasts covered but only shrouded by the bow tied top.

Still holding his hand, she lifted an athletically toned leg high and over the side, placing her bare foot on the carpet next to her overnight compartment. He stood steady as she used his hold to balance her stance. The other leg followed and she stood in presentation glory in front of him.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Ben. I'm called Dasha."

It was a polite greeting, her other hand extended, while standing in gauzily draped hour glass curves. He didn't take it, still dumbstruck by the sexy presentation and the thoughts of what might come next.

She took back her offered hands. A flick at the shoulder straps proceeded a full body shimmy that dropped the body covering, shook her boobs, and waddled her ass. Ben was even more intrigued by the generosity of the Holiday Spirits that had delivered Dasha under his Christmas tree.

He still hadn't moved or given any sign. She wouldn't let him deny his gift. With a cute smile of knowing what to do, she bent her knees and knelt before him. Her eyes watched his as she fiddled with his boxers, her fingers touching his cock through the fly. Now she heard his intake of breath and knew he was okay with her going for the full deal.

Her head pressed forward and she used lips and tongue to suck him in. She gently suckled his manhood until he swelled to a semi-erection in her mouth.

Ben was compliant but did not show any intent to take the initiative. So, Dasha took the lead. She pulled off his shorts, laid back on the floor in front of fireplace as she drew him down atop her on the bearskin fur rug. Ben saw the white hairy floor covering and wondered where the Hell that had come from. Probably the same mysterious powers that had delivered Dasha to his living room.

Ben found his senses and moved to take advantage of his good fortune. He took her kiss and then descended to kiss her exposed nipples. She spread her thighs around his hips and drew him closer using her bare heels on his ass. He didn't hesitate any longer, saddled up and executed a smooth entry. He took another lingering kiss of her lips.

Her hair smelled heavenly; her boobs were soft against his chest. A pullback and thrust started the cyclical strokes. She cooed his praises as she shimmied and swayed her body at his stroke pace. He succumbed to her naughty whims, heard her encouragements: 'yes... yes... gimme it, sir... fill me' as she wiggled beneath him. The blast of sperm filled her core.

She made him breakfast and spent the day with him. Between sucking and fucking, she facilitated his refractions, softly singing Christmas carols in Russian, allowing him time to recover and rejuvenate, then cuddling until he was able to perform again.

She toddled back to Barbara's house after dark.

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Miki, a Cubana in South Beach

Ocean Drive was alive with revelers; it was that intra-holiday weekend on South Beach Miami. Ben and Miki were enjoying the after-midnight parade of party animals strolling by their sidewalk table at a local watering hole.

They had spent the day in post-Christmas outlet store shopping, lunching at an Ocean Drive deco hotel bistro and after a few hours at the nightclubs dancing, were midnight chilling at a sidewalk café table. Many of the other club goers had taken their leave and were walking towards their cars or hotel rooms for the night.

Miki was admiring the array of sexy fashions passing by on display. Ben was noticing them as well. It was one thing to see naked females in venues where Ben was meant to see them: one-night stands, arranged encounters through various facilitators, strip clubs or ones he had simply seduced.

But it was another thing to be teased by general passersby while he ogled them from a close-in public distance.

Miki pointed out one whose crop-top was so short her under-boobs bounced noticeably beneath the hem. Another had the stretch top so tight that the outer rim of her areolae created a ring bulge concentric with her pokie nubs.

Ben saw those and more: loose boobs swaying beneath bulky tees, see thru translucent tops, and the seductive night club fashions: hair, heels and makeup that said 'I want to be fucked'.

But tonight, he wouldn't indulge their subliminal carnal cravings nor did he want to. Miki had been with him since morning, enjoying Barbara's permitted getaway, and her youthful chatter, her fresh smell and unstoppable gaiety had him raring to bed down the vivacious coed for an energetic romp in the sheets.

His mind had fantasized all day about what he would do to her sexy little body and what he planned for her to do to his. And with her fluffy casual clothes, he still wasn't sure about the details of the hinted voluptuous curves that awaited him.

Ben intended that their looming bedtime fun start slow and last awhile but he knew he was so deeply, if not obviously, aroused that their first fuck would end up a very quick quickie.

And the sexy parade of young fashionista wannabes wasn't helping.

Or was it?

His percolating balls sent a notion to his percolating brain. He looked around. The wait staff had diminished to two young ladies and the stream of pedestrians had thinned out a bit.

Ben leaned over to whisper in Miki's ear. His nose filled with the lingering perfume of her shampoo.

"I have something I need you to do."

"Anything, sir" she giggled.

"Climb under the table and suck me off."

The giggle stopped and there was a moment of silence.

"Can't we go to the room? Everyone will see me here."

Ben gritted his teeth at her reluctance and growled.

"The table cloth will hide you. Go on, get to it."

Miki glanced over her shoulder. The waitresses were busy in the back, the people shuffling by were not particularly interested in the couple at the Cafe this late at night, or more accurately, this early in the morning.

She slowly slinked down out of her chair. She took a last quick peek around before ducking her head under the wide cotton cloth. Ben sat still and watched the continued parade of cock teasers.

He felt her unzip his pants. Her fingers found his tumescent erection and drew it out. Her warm breath felt good but her tongue tip on the coronal vee felt better. Best of all was the smooch on his knob, the tongue tip on his tip slit, that became a soft lip engulfment that continued to the base. Miki softly suckled and slowly bobbed on his swelling cock.

While Miki filled her mouth with his swollen full erection, Ben filled his eyes with the strolling fantasy visions

There was the almost chubby chica striding along on too-high platform heels, trying to look taller and slimmer despite the natural attraction of her plump ass cheeks peeking below a pair of too-tight booty shorts. Her chest was mounted with full fleshy mounds that perfectly balanced her high round ass.

A fashionista blonde walked by on strappy heels, her long tan legs taking long strides. Her subtle makeup complemented her fresh face, her scalp tight long ponytail swinging at her pace. She had regular sized boobs that filled out the stretchy bodycon dress that barely covered her ass, highlighting her leggy form. A beefy boyfriend kept pace, proud of his arm candy girlfriend.

Ben's hand descended to clutch a bunch of Miki's hair, guiding and slowing her pace and timing to extend his growing lust. She paused as he willed to suck one very hard vacuum on his erection and then shook off his attempts to delay the finish. She bobbed again, worming her tongue around his corona and lapping the undervee.

Meanwhile, across the sidewalk rail from seated Ben, the show continued as the less expensively dressed girls were towed along behind ordinary boys; tight tee shirts and jeans seemed to be the style du jour. The studs' chicas were as varied as could be in this Hispanic immersed culture: brunette weaves, straight long hair, curly hair, dangling earrings, bouncy tits, full nubile firm teardrops. The pretty women were compliantly high stepping, as best they could, clinging to the hand of their macho male who was eager to get them home, or at least in the relative privacy of his car, for the upcoming blowjob or pussy delight.

Miki was feeling Ben's cock throbs intensify as he watched the live show passing on the street. She continued the tongue action and even hinted at deep throat with tentative tonsil pokes.

Then one young woman slowed down when spying the soles of Miki's high heels visible from the street, poking out beneath the hem of the table cloth. She gave a wild laugh of cognition and tapped the arm of her middle-aged companion before pointing out the secretive scene. Stopping to gain Ben's attention, she poked her tongue against the inside of her cheek in short rhythm, simulating a cock tip pressing against it during a blowjob.

Ben saw her joke and gave her a look over. She was late in her twenties and wore sexy clothes and makeup to present her best, though fading, features. Her tits were pushed up in billowing cleavage and the tight pants added to her hip waddle. She probably made her living here in the South Florida playland, mostly on her knees or back.

But, live and let live; everyone needs to use what they've got to get what they need, and he needn't judge her circumstances or life path.

She lifted a hand to her crop-top and pulled it up, giving him a nip flash. Her loose torpedo tit had enough play that she could lift it, then crunch her neck and lick the nipple.

Ben raised an eyebrow, gave a nod of admiration and smiled. She might be advertising for a later working rendezvous, he presumed.

Her boyfriend, or probably tonight's client, saw her maneuver and pulled her hand, hustling her along. He had paid for her time and was in a hurry to collect. She blew Ben a pucker kiss, tucked her tit back in and complied with her picked up stud's aroused hurry.

Ben closed his eyes. The lingering vision of being solicited by a sexy stranger was what he needed and he finally let go of his control and flooded Miki's mouth with a generous load of cum.

At the end of his spasming, he felt her suck hard one last time to empty his urethra. Her hands closed his pants. Her head appeared just above the tablecloth next to his thigh and a quick glance around satisfied her that the coast was clear. She sidled up to sit next to him.

A less overwrought Ben took the dutiful Miki back to their room. Less frenzied after Miki's skillful fellatio, he was ready to confirm his supposition of her carnal bodily charms.

The undressing started when he pulled her bulky tee over her head, exposing a fine pair of firm pointy tits. Yanking down her boy shorts revealed a round smooth ass supported on sturdy thighs that enclosed her plush pussy. Miki had a body that gave him lots of incentive to explore and conquer. He pushed her onto the bed and clambered in after her.

Ben rewarded her earlier attention to his needs with orgasmic cunnilingus, before mounting her curvy Latina body in a long slow bout of sex that gave her three more rounds of orgasmic ecstasy before he poured another dose of sperm in her welcoming, spasming cunt. It was a good start for a long weekend excursion of exhausting ecstasy.

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Dyanna, a Greek New Year's Eve Party Date

Ben waited in Barbara's living room for his New Year's Eve party date. At his specific request, the girls' matron had permitted Dyanna, the visiting Greek coed, to be his evening escort at the gala event. The other coeds were helping the buxom brunette with her hair and makeup and any last-minute adjustments to the elegant dress that Ben had forwarded for Dyanna's evening wear.

Barbara chatted up the impatient Ben, who kept checking his watch at the holdup. His friends had arranged this special New Year's Eve party and he didn't want to be late and miss the midnight countdown toll.

Finally, he heard a clacking of scurried footsteps and faced that way as Dasha and then Miki rounded the corner into the living room. They stood aside with broad grins of anticipation, watching for Ben's reaction when Dyanna made her grand entrance.

She emerged around the corner and Ben's stunned expression was a treat for the two coed assistants that had worked so hard on Dyanna's sexy presentation. Her wavy hair was bunched in gathered style crowning her head, with a few loose tendrils to exude a tatty aura. Her face was magic: dark eyeliner and shadow, gull-wing eyebrows, and plush fire engine red lips. Dangling gold earrings, a braided meander necklace, and a slim chain bracelet added a bit of pizazz.

But what really made the presentation was the dress, what there was of it. The front was two narrow panels that barely covered half of her breasts' central roundness. The bands offered no support to her youthful high-mounted fullness, but they did offer substantial sidewinder and cleavage views. The vertically pleated fabric, which regrettably obscured her nub points, descended from a behind-the-neck strap down to a central waist brooch which also captured the side low hip sashes where they came together well below her navel. From there, the black sashes spread low across her waist, the top hem only just covering her groin, with high side slits exposing her long luxurious legs whenever she took a step in her black high heels. The cut was so low and open that panties, even a minimalist thong, would have spoiled the appearance. Ben had thought that through and directed no panties permitted. Her bare arms, ribcage, back, and tummy exposed most of the rest of her olive-toned smooth torso.

Dyanna saw him staring silently, slack-jawed, and that implied that he may indeed approve of her presentation. But to be sure, she slyly turned a slow rotation on her toes so that Ben could see her fully exposed back down to a daring level just above her rear split. The dress was just enough cover to be passable for public wear. The turnabout delightfully jostled her tits under the barely functional boob covers and exposed her long, toned legs.

Barbara watched the silent exchange of sexual tease and tension. She knew Ben wouldn't be bringing Dyanna back after the party tonight. She gave Ben a wink and spoke some closing counsel to her coed charge.

"Dyanna, sweetheart, you look wonderful. The girls have packed you an overnight satchel; a few toiletries for you to freshen up for any post-party activities Mr. Ben cares to use you for. He has graciously chosen you for this special event in the presence of his important friends. You be a good girl tonight; don't disappoint him."

She planted a kiss on the beauty's cheek. The girls handed Ben her overnight kitbag. He hefted the purse size package and thought it pretty small; it couldn't contain much. Apparently, the girls presumed from their own experiences with him that Dyanna wouldn't be wearing much, if anything, for Ben's probable post-party plans.

As Ben took Dyanna's hand to lead her out to his car, Barbara had some last words for him as well.

"I don't expect to see you back tonight but please have her home by tomorrow night. I don't want you to overdo things with her and end up with no stamina left for the rest of us."

Ben gave a half-hearted nod, a sign of acquiescence that he might, or probably would not, honor her request. He led Dyanna slowly to his car, letting her step gently to avoid catching a draping skirt hem on a heel or maybe popping out a tit. But he repeatedly glanced sideways, intrigued by the boob jiggles and leg flashes her careful walking still provided. He deposited his gown-draped evening escort in the front seat and drove to a downtown convention center where the New Year's party was taking place. The parking attendants took his car, ogling his barely dressed date. He directed them to send his suitcase and Dyanna's tiny overnight bag to his booked overnight room.

They strolled through the public spaces, Ben's long strides causing her to quick step. Her body was an eye magnet of boob jiggles and sexy leg flashes. Along the way, Dyanna's peripheral vision caught many delighted stares, both men and women, which she took for appreciation of her attire. Ben took those peeps at the sexy expanses of youthful skin unconcealed by her evening gown for looks of adulation.

Arriving at the small set-aside ballroom, she noticed there were several other women, likewise exotically clothed in sexy fashions, although not as scandalously daring as the dress Ben had supplied to her. They mingled and the numerous tuxedoed men were very attentive to Ben and especially her. He discussed some business gossip with his colleagues, topics Dyanna didn't comprehend, nor was expected to. But she did comprehend the men's steady stares at the bare half of her visible breasts and legs, guessing their vulgar thoughts and supposing their unspoken obsessions. As the night wended its way, it was casual chatting as they sipped champagne, and her awareness that the men were quietly ogling the other gentlemen's females like her.

Nearing midnight, the roving waiters dispensed a final round of the drinks for the midnight toast. Dyanna reached for a flute with a blue ribbon around the stem but Ben gently took it from her and handed her a pink ribboned one instead.

'How quaint' she thought, 'the party planners' attention to little details is quite impressive.'

Dyanna hoped that the remaining minutes to midnight would pass quickly and she could leave with Ben for a private rendezvous upstairs. She was ready to show him the totality of her bodacious body barely hidden under the dress. More so, she wanted to show him what that body could do to and for a gentleman gallant enough to select her as a companion and lay claim to her sexual charms. She had perfected her poise skills at TWA, receiving many hard-learned lessons in human sexual gratification from innumerable staff and guest coach tutors. She knew Ben would appreciate her dedication to perfection in bed.

Minutes passed and then the final seconds arrived. Ben and Dyanna swigged their decorated drinks and did the holiday countdown before impulsively embracing and deeply kissing under the sprig of mistletoe that hung near the edge of the grand hall. Ben held the oral contact as he moved two steps forward and pushed her backward against the wall. He pressed his groin hard against hers.

His hands were everywhere during the sustained kiss, rubbing her barely covered ass, cupping a side slit accessible thigh to raise a bent leg against his waist, pressing himself against her torso to squash her soft tits to his chest. The kiss evolved into a mutual probing of tongues.