Tom Martin 2 - Helping the Neighbour

Tom Martin 2 - Helping the Neighbour

“That'll be twenty-four bucks.” The cab driver says as he parks in front of the Gold Standard Apartments. I reach into my handbag and fumble around in search of my purse. The driver moans “You do have the money right?”

“Yeah hang on a second.” I retort. Fucking asshole's been giving me stink eye the entire trip. Don't know whether it's because I'm black, the casual way I've dressed or just the shitty mood he's in tonight, but he's been judging me ever since I got in.

Eventually I hand over the cash. I tell him to keep the change and get out with both of my heavy bags. One day my photography skills will pay off, even if I am cursing the weight of the equipment right now. Still, it's a good workout and the elevator should still work.

I enter the lobby and look to the elevators. The sign across them read 'Out of order'. Of course the fucking elevator isn't working. Everything since I left high school last year has gone to shit. My boss fired me, my boyfriend dumped me and I only had one person to go to, my father. Ever since the divorce he's been living in an apartment here whilst my mother spends her time with her partner interstate.

Nothing left to do but climb the stairs with my one bag slung on my back and the other in my hands. At least I only have to go up one floor. At the top of the stairs I see a hunky guy standing by one of the apartments. He looks out of place for such a simple apartment block, with his tight fitting clothes that emphasised his chiselled body and his flowing golden hair that is possibly as long as mine. He looks at me with his smoky grey-blue eyes before asking “You must be Carl's daughter?”

“Yeah Andrea.” I reply, thinking of how good of a model he'd be in front of my camera. I don't think that perfect body would look bad at any angle.

“I'm Tommy, your next door neighbour.” He replies, causing me to crack a smile. I didn't think I'd have such a nice view in an inner-city apartment. Maybe my luck is improving. As he approaches me he asks “Want me to carry one of these bags?”

“That'd be fantastic.” I reply. He walks over to me and puts his muscles to good use, grabbing the bag I have in my hands. He says “Jeez, you're no light packer.”

“Please be careful with it.” I add. I can't afford to replace my camera.

“Of course.” He replies as he starts to walk towards an apartment. Room 12, right at the end. Tom opens the door so I follow him inside the small, open plan apartment with a dining area behind the couch. I put my bag down in front of the coffee table so Tommy puts the one he was carrying right beside it, before asking “So, you need anything?”

Although I wouldn't mind him to lose the shirt and snap a few hot photos, I decide to be humble and say “Not for now.”

“Well I'm next door if you need anything.”

“Thank you Tom.”

“Any time.” He says before leaving me on my own. After a sigh I sit down on the cheap stained couch. Probably a freebie my Dad scored off the side of the road. Then again it's not like I'm in the financial position to argue what I sit my butt down on.

In front of me is the coffee table where the remote rests. I grab it and turn the TV onto a news channel spreading misery and half-truths. I aimlessly flick through the channels, attempting to find something of entertainment value, eventually arriving on a cartoon I use to watch when I was younger and life was simpler.

The show cuts to an ad break which gives me time to check out the fridge. The contents is minimal but Dad left me some orange juice which I pour into a glass. As I head back to the couch to return to the TV daydream I faintly hear someone passionately moan to my right. I take a sip of my juice before approaching the wall.

That's when I hear a woman cry out “Yes Tommy, that's perfect.”

I grin wickedly. Looks like I'm not the only girl Tommy's helping out tonight. By sounds of it he knows what he's doing too, unlike my ex. I place the cup of juice down on the coffee table before turning the TV off. I need to hear every glorious detail.

After grabbing a chair from the dining table I sit near the wall. Tom continues to work his magic on his partner. I wonder if it's a girlfriend? Wouldn't surprise me. Knowing my luck he's in a committed relationship. Best I get what I can out of it.

I close my eyes, and imagine what it'd be like for him to be here with me. To have his strong hands removing my clothes, before they caress my body. My name on his breath, before we meet for a kiss.

I pull down my track pants, wishing he was there to do so. If I had known I'd meet such a handsome hunk I would have worn some figure hugging yoga pants instead of the baggy pants I now have around my knees. If only Tom was here to massage my thighs. Instead he has a luckier woman in his bed, who was crying out his name. She declares his ability to satisfy a girl's needs as I reach under my soaking panties to take care of my own.

My index finger dances on my clitoris as I pull down my panties with my free hand. Whilst I start I begin my journey to orgasmic bliss, the woman Tommy is with signals the final approach to hers, declaring “Yes Tommy, make me cum.”

I press the middle finger of my free hand into my pussy as Tommy's lover climaxes loudly. You lucky bitch, having that golden haired piece of perfection all to yourself. All I have are my bare hands. I don't even have a toy to simulate a man's touch or his body.

There is a lull in my new neighbour's noisy love making. My imagination runs wild. What would Tommy do to me if he had me alone? Would he take me to a bed, and slowly work me up? Or would an animalistic lust come over him to fuck me right here in the living room? What about that member under his pants? Such an impressive lover undoubtedly has an impressive cock.

Suddenly the girl starts to moan again, before asking “Give it to me Tommy.”

I think that's what I'd tell him too. Just lay me down and give it to me, whatever that may encompass. Judging by your continuing cries he knew what to do with a woman, unlike my ex-boyfriend. He didn't even try to search for the g-spot I am now rubbing, thinking of how much I want to be with you Tom.

Tommy and his woman continue to fuck each other senseless. I swear I can hear everything, from her cries of ecstasy, to Tommy's balls smacking against her, to the springs of the bed trying to endure the couple's crazed sex session.

I'm now franticly fingering myself, trying to keep with the pace the two lovers have set. Maybe they can hear me now. Maybe now Tommy knows the effect he has on me. My legs tense up and straighten but my hand continues to thrust, bringing me near my inevitable orgasm.

I let out a loud “Fuck”, surely giving away what I am up to. Not like I care now any rate. The fire that had erupted inside of me is causing me to convulse. Somehow I manage to fall of my chair, but it didn't hurt. The only thing I can feel are the ripples of my orgasm.

I lay on my side, and catch my breath. Damn Tommy, we haven't even physically touched and you've already given me one hell of a climax. He shouts “I'm cumming Morgan.”

“Yes, cum on that perfect ass.” She says, barely audible behind the wall. Doubt your ass is as good as mine Morgan. My big round booty drives the boys crazy. I listen to Tom's grunts as he most likely erupts all over his lucky partner's ass.

The pain from my fall starts to set in. Nothing permanent, but I'm sure I have a nice bruise. I pull my soaking wet fingers out of my pussy as I faintly hear the couple's lips smooch together. Despite the pleasure we had all felt, I am still alone. Then again, I'll always have this night to remember, so for that I thank you Tom.

 

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