Punished by My Neighbor 4-Book Box Set (9 page)

Emilee's Step Loves Cream

A taboo first time older man nursing fantasy

by Emilee Brown

Dear Reader,

So far, I’ve shared the story of how I first went from untouched college co-ed to plaything of my much older, white neighbor. Then I revealed my first foray into being dominant myself when I encountered a fellow with a teeny weeny who set out to humiliate and take me. Then I told you the story of my three firemen neighbors who brutally claimed and punished me, spit roasting me, and enjoying me every way they wanted. Because they insisted on taking me without protection, it wasn’t long before I was pregnant by my alpha males...

The story I’m about to share today, though, is taboo beyond all previous taboos! Because it involves my step and I know how harshly my mother would judge me for what happened next. It also involves something delicious between my old flame Mr. Barrows and my step Jacob.

Read on if you dare, but know before you dive in things are about to get very, very dirty and beyond taboo.

-Emilee

Fall of what should have been my sophomore year, I was back at home, stuck. I’d given my baby up for adoption just weeks before and roamed my mother’s house feeling lost. Because I’d had to take a break from school, my mom had invited me to move back home for a few months to get my footing again. She also thought it would be a good opportunity for me to bond with my new steps, my white stepfather and his white son.

Admittedly, I said yes partly hoping Mr. Barrows, the much older man next door who’d taken my innocence would reclaim me, sure that being punished and roughly handled would be a good cure for my heartbreak.

That’s not to say I didn’t  have mixed feelings on that point. Mr. Barrows had dumped me. Brutally, by text. And I hadn’t seen him since, in spite of taking up panty selling again (the thing that had led him to punish me in the first place) in the hopes that he wouldn’t be able to resist scolding me a second time. But, instead of winding up with Mr. Barrows, I’d found myself with another neighbor--a guy with the smallest dick I’d ever seen--who humiliated and ravaged me before I managed to subdue and dominate him. That had given me my first taste of femdom and I was hungry for more.

Then, for about two months, I’d lived next door to three firemen who claimed me for their own and shared me amongst themselves, stretching me until I accommodated two of them at once. It was the most pain I’d ever experienced in my life, and somehow simultaneously the most pleasure as well. But when they’d made me pregnant by repeatedly refusing protection or pulling out, I’d floundered.

And now here I was, older and wiser and living next door to Mr. Barrows again, hoping he might be unable to resist me once I was nearby.

It was my first full day back in my old bedroom, the innocent boy band posters still up from when I’d hung them years before. Out my second floor bedroom window I had a perfect view of Mr. Barrow’s single story ranch home, but more importantly, I had a perfect view of his sprawling back yard, hot tub and pool. And every fifteen minutes or so, I’d taken advantage of said view because there was a suspicious woman sunning--naked--in a lounge by the pool. At this distance it was impossible to gauge her age, but from her hot, tight body I’d say she was probably around my age, and unlike me, she’d never been stretched and swollen by pregnancy.

She was white, fair skinned, with long blonde hair that she’d fanned above her head. Her breasts were small, and her pussy was shaved and though I’d never been attracted to a woman before, I had to fight the urge to go next door and plant myself between her legs and find out what she tasted like.

Though that may have mostly been the jealousy.

After three or four hours of stalking the stranger, I dragged myself downstairs. My step brother Jacob was in the kitchen pouring himself a bowl of cereal for a mid-day snack. “Want one?” he asked as I entered the room.

I shrugged and grabbed an orange from the bowl on the counter instead. I rolled it between my hands, weighing my thoughts. Jacob had been living with my mom and step dad since his wife had kicked him out at the start of summer. Maybe he’d met the woman next door. But I had to approach it gingerly.

Jacob was older--almost 35--and living “at home” because his wife had cheated on him with his boss. He’d been fired and his wife had insisted he be the one to move out (though, to be fair, her parents had been the one who’d given them the down payment). He found a new job easily enough, but with the upcoming legal fees, my mom offered him a place to crash for a few months.

In other words, Jacob’s life had pretty much sucked for the last six months. But he was still the same friendly, smart, funny guy I'd first met at our parents' engagement party years before. I was looking forward to getting to hang out with him more now that I was an adult.

He stood about 5’10”, not particularly tall, and his pale skin was a striking contrast to his dark, straight hair. He had lips that looked like they belonged on a carved marble statue--full and pouty and chewable--but otherwise was just your average handsome thirty-something fellow, fit, but not as muscular as my alpha firemen.

“Who’s the naked chick next door?” I asked as I dug my fingernails into the orange peel, releasing the sweet citrus fragrance into the air.

“Mr. Barrows’ new girl?” He asked.

I nodded.

“No idea. She’s hot, though.”

I tried not to let my disappointment show on my face.

“Do you know him well? Mr. Barrows, I mean.”

I shrugged. “He hasn’t lived there all that long.”

“Your mom said you guys used to be close,” he said, his eyes intense as they studied me. I wondered what he was trying to figure out.

“I guess, a little. He always seemed kinda lonely.”

Jacob smiled a small smile. “He seems kinda pervy to me.”

It was my turn to study him intently, raking my eyes across his face. What, exactly, did he know about Mr. Barrows’ predilections. And more importantly, what did he know, or suspect, about my relationship with our much older neighbor?

“How so?” I asked, keeping my cards close to the vest.

Jacob shrugged and poured milk over his cereal. “A few nights ago, I heard him telling her not to make him get the whip. She seemed into it, or I’d have called the police.” His ears tinged pink and I wondered if that was embarrassment that he himself had been turned on by what he’d overheard, or if he found it dirty to discuss other people’s sex lives.

I kept my expression as neutral as possible as I scraped the last bits of pith from my orange. I split it into segments and offered him one. He took it gratefully. “You know how it is once someone peels an orange,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“When I first started college,” I began, wanting to test the waters, “Mr. Barrows had a live in housekeeper. Nice lady, not very pretty, kind of dumpy, actually. But sometimes, I’d see them out in the backyard, her laying naked over his knee while he spanked her.” I said it casually, deliberately.

His black eyebrows popped up nearly to his hairline. “Seriously?”

“Do you think that’s scandalous?”

He looked at me for a long moment and then sucked in a breath. “Honestly? I think it’s kinda sexy. My ex was super vanilla, but I always wanted to experiment more. I guess now I can.” His face fell a little as though he’d still rather be happily married than get to fool around and my heart softened for him, just a little. He really did seem like a good guy who hadn’t deserved his wife to screw him over like she did.

“Have you started yet?”

“Having sex?” Now he did look scandalized.

“Dating,” I said, rolling my eyes as if I couldn’t believe he’d misunderstand me like that.

“It’s still kinda weird. Not to mention, dating’s changed so much since I was last out there. I’ve been with my ex since I was 20--now there’s online dating apps and swiping and hookups and alpha this and The Game and it’s all so impossible to figure out.” For the first time, I saw some of that conflict I’d expected him to be experiencing. For the first time, my step seemed human instead of perfect. And it made him undeniably attractive.

I popped an orange slice into my mouth, letting the citrus explode against my tongue. “We could practice.” I said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He winked and a delicious tingle spread deep in my belly. “I’m not sure that would be wise.”

“Oh yeah, why not?” I kept my tone light and challenging, as if I weren’t taking this conversation even a little bit seriously. As if I weren’t overcome with a sudden curiosity about the way my step’s beautiful, full lips tasted. About the way they’d feel on my body. “I know a thing or two about dating, you know.” I knew I needed to dial back the arousal I was feeling or there’d be milk everywhere. My milk had come in early, and though my doctor knew I’d be putting the baby up for adoption had asked me how I felt about working for a milk bank. So now I pumped several times a day so that I could be of service. My doctor had warned me that pumping hurt for some women, but I’d found it to be the most delicious kind of pain.

He laughed for a moment and then suddenly stopped. “It’s not that,” he said. “It’s just that I’m really attracted to you. I’m not sure I could keep it just pretend.”

I’d avoided Jacob for the rest of the night, making excuses to head to my room early with dinner so that I could turn in early. Life lately had taken a lot out of me, I explained, and the family understood. The truth was once my mom and step dad were back home again, being in the same room with Jacob made me intensely  uncomfortable. What if they sussed out what had sparked between us?

And besides, I wanted to keep an eye on Mr. Barrows and his naked slut next door. I pushed my desk beneath my window so that I had an excuse to sit there in front of it, staring at the neighbor’s back yard, pump attached to one bare breast. The naked slut was still lounging in the now-waning sun, though now she was sunning her back, her long golden hair still pushed out of the way so as not to cause tan lines.

But where was Mr. Barrows?

My fingers found their way between my legs, absently stroking myself while the pump worked its magic, sucking milk from my breast. It didn’t take long, I was still unbelievably horny from the pregnancy hormones. My doctor had offered to help me take care of things, but I didn’t want to get him into trouble. And besides, he wasn’t really my type, squat and balding and with a sort of mousy mustache that clung to his lip.

I watched the naked beauty on the lounge by the pool. She stretched languidly, her smooth, golden back rippling in the glowing late day light. I imagined Mr. Barrows demanding she get between my legs. He’d often threatened to make me service the women he worked with, he said they were bitchy and needed to get laid but that he couldn’t take care of them because he was committed to me.

I’d always giggled, not taking him seriously, but now I wondered. Just how bitchy would I need to be for him to command that blonde eat my pussy.

I massaged my pussy with the base of my thumb, nuzzling my fist deeper into my swelling need and my thoughts drifted to Jacob and his beautiful lips. But instead of imagining his face covered in my juices, I imagined him at my breast, sucking desperately, my milk dribbling down his chin. As the explosions wracked by body, I decided that was one fantasy I needed to make reality.

The next morning, I’d just finished brushing my teeth after my shower and turned off the tap. It came off in my hand. The water spurted everywhere, all over me, all over the bathroom, flooding every surface. There I was, in my towel, getting soaked.

I dashed out of the bathroom and downstairs to find someone who could help. My mom and step dad were long gone, but I found Jacob in the living room. “I broke the sink,” I said, panting for breath, holding my towel in place.

He looked up from his book, and it was clear he was trying to avoid noticing my nakedness.

“Broke the sink?” He asked, getting to his feet.

“The tap came off in my hand.” I held it out to show him feeling completely ineffectual. “And now the water’s squirting everywhere.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said before dashing up the stairs into my bedroom and into my bathroom. I trailed after him.

He opened the sink cabinet and fiddled with something and the water stopped. “You’re a life saver!” I exclaimed.

He smiled a little. “I have a pretty limited home improvement repertoire, but that just so happens to be in it. Can’t install a new faucet, though, we’ll have to call someone for that.”

“You stopped it,” I said, still incredibly impressed by his prowess. When he stood, without thinking, I leapt to hug him and my towel fell down around my feet. It was only as my bare breasts met the crisp, smooth cotton of his button down shirt that I realized what had happened. And before I could pull away, they’d squirted a little, leaving him with small milk stains where my full, throbbing breasts had brushed against him. I gasped and drew back and he politely averted his eyes. “I’m so sorry!” I said, completely sincere as I picked the towel up from the floor and secured it around my body again.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jacob said, the edges of his ears bright pink. He examined the spots on his shirt with a sly grin. “And besides, you’re beautiful.” He stepped closer to me and ran a palm down my arm, a tender gesture that sent sparks flying through the air between us.

I let myself stare deeply into his eyes then, wondering what he would think of me if he knew about my history. The way he looked at me, like I was so young and innocent, like I was going to have been mortified that he’d seen me naked and he needed to console me.  Would he be shocked to know the things I’d done? The things I’d allowed men to do to me? The things I’d imagined him doing to me last night?

I decided to play the innocent, naive college coed and cast my eyes downward for a moment like I was confused and afraid of my feelings. He stepped a little closer. “Hey,” he said softly. I still avoided his eye. “Hey,” he caressed my cheek gently. “It’s okay, it was an accident.”

“It’s not that.” I stammered. “I mean, it’s not exactly that.”

“Then what is it?” His voice was low, intimate. “You can tell me.”

I reached out a hand and ran a fingertip around the wet spot my milk had left on his button down shirt. “I didn’t realize until now,” I said, pausing to take a deep breath. “How much I want you to kiss me.”

He ran his thumb along my lower lip. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m older than you, Em. A lot older. I should be wiser.” He shrugged. “I’m not saying I am, but I’ve got, what 15 years on you? If things don’t work out between us...”

I closed the distance between us and took his shirt in both my hands. “It’s just a kiss,” I said, my voice husky with desire.

“It’s just a kiss,” he repeated as he dipped his mouth to meet mine. His lips moved against my lips, hard and hungry, and I could taste the sugary cereal from his breakfast still on his lips. He deepened the kiss and his hands crept under the towel, tender against my belly, gathering me closer to him. I moaned, and my fingers worked beneath his shirt.

He suddenly pulled away and I stumbled towards him, making a grumble of protestation.

“This is too fast,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m moving you too fast. It’s just been so long.”

“So long?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“My ex, she was never in the mood, said she didn’t know where her sex drive had gone. Turns out, she was just getting it from someone else.” He chuckled awkwardly and I could see how it pained him to talk about his ex. All I wanted to do was make him feel better, this sweet, kind man.

“You don’t need to apologize,” I said. “Imagine how I’ve been feeling. You’ve heard what they say about pregnancy hormones, and there I was, single and knocked up.” I smiled shyly. “I want this. I want you.”

His eyes brightened at that thought, that he was doing me a favor, not risking me harm. He kissed me again then, and as he worked his mouth against mine his fingers drew the towel away from me, leaving me naked and him fully clothed. He traced one nipple with his thumb while his tongue explored my mouth. I could feel him becoming aroused against me. He bent to lick my nipple and milk spurted out. He laughed, surprised, and then met my eye as if asking for permission and I nodded, tangling my fingers in his hair to draw him closer.

He was gentle at first, licking tentatively, and then his lips latched to my nipple and he began to suck deeply as though he were starving. And, I supposed, in a way he was, just as much as I was. Starving for contact. Starving for this, an intimate connection. I moaned uncontrollably under the intensity of his touch and was about to drag him into my bedroom so we could both get comfortable.

The front door slammed then, though, and Jacob jerked away from me, panting. His eyes were frenzied and passionate, and my milk dribbled down his chin. “Later,” he whispered as he ducked out of my bedroom, leaving me naked and desperate for more.