An ordinary story about a neighbor

A ring at the door. And I'm sitting here, jerking off to a photo of my acquaintance on VKontakte. Evening is approaching, twilight slowly colors the clouds, the highway roars outside the window. I'm relaxed as a kitten, except for the concrete pillar between my legs, ready to spew out a column of ambiguously smelling substance any second, like a whale ejecting a column of seawater from its depths. But — the doorbell rings, chirping, trilling — and it's hard to ignore now. I quickly pull on my tracksuit bottoms and peek through the door's peephole.

The neighbor from downstairs. Well, surely she thinks I'm flooding her again. She just moved in recently, and already her ceiling is leaking and I'm somehow the culprit. Otherwise — a lady over 30, very good-looking, this kind of dyed-blonde matron with big, ripe tits and plump lips yearning for a huge lollipop.

"Good evening," I say, opening the door a crack and putting on a smile.

"Hi," she says. "Tell me, do you have water?"

"Yes," I say, "I just took a shower."

"We haven't had any for two days now, can you imagine? I called the housing office, they said they'd send a repairman. Still no one. I wanted to know if it's just me or the whole riser."

What a style she has, I thought. A combination of mismatches. Some colorful rubber boots and a strict black skirt, a blouse in the same vein, and a hat with pom-poms from Amsterdam. Probably just got off work — I'm a homebody programmer, but people are like a ping-pong ball on a string: from work to work. And no water. I know what a problem that is.

"The lower floors don't have water either?"

"Lyudmila from the first floor went somewhere," she says, fiddling with her phone. "I'll call again — they've really gotten to me — this is the third time. And at my last apartment, we were constantly without water."

"You can take as much as you need from me," I say.

"Yeah, I wanted to ask that too," she replies, and hides her phone in her purse. "I called my son — thought he'd get some — but he's out wandering somewhere."

"Well, okay. Whenever you need, just come over," I say, closing the door.

"I never introduced myself, by the way — I'm Vika. My son is Vadik, and you're Roman, I think?"

"I'm Ruslan," I say. "You can call me Rusik."

Damn, I think — my pants are stained with some food. They're such decent people, and I'm like a bum. And the house is a terrible mess — should clean up, since I invited them for water.

"Okay. Then we'll come up later," says this Vika, and I close the door with a polite mask. I immediately ran to tidy up, closed the photos of my acquaintance Sveta in a swimsuit on the computer, cleared the pile of underwear from the bathroom, but didn't have time to fully beautify everything — 10 minutes later the bell rings again.

Now it's her and her son Vadik, a guy my age — about 25, and eight large buckets, two in each hand. — where did you get so many buckets, I ask.

"We're mushroom pickers. Used to go to the forest all the time, all three of us with my husband."

"Ah... got it. I'm afraid of poisoning — all those mushrooms look the same, I say. "You can go to the bathroom, all the water is yours."

Vadik, of course, is an impressive guy, not like me. In a shirt, trousers — just without a tie and a briefcase under his arm. And Vika is already in home clothes — some beige robe, slippers — a housewife, as it should be. No — I won't set foot for mushrooms — got poisoned once — now it's a trauma for life.

While they were filling the buckets, we chatted a bit. It turned out Vadik also programs, like me. Only he works in an office, and I sit at home, a freelancer. Vika works somewhere in a hairdressing salon, not far from our building. She offered to cut my hair at a discount. Why not?

"Phew, first batch ready," — they carried them off.

"I can help carry," I say.

"We can't carry it all at once anyway, but I accept the help," says Vika.

We quickly dragged the buckets, though spilling a little, to the second floor. I needn't have worried about the mess — what was in their apartment — is hard to describe. A mountain of things, like plans, a heap. Whole piles of some clothes rose almost to the ceiling.

"I resell clothes," she says. "A little business of mine."

The second batch was also successfully transported. I was glad I could help people. Although it didn't really cost me anything. True, I didn't get to finish jerking off, but there's still time and Sveta's photos aren't going anywhere.

"Well, I'll go."

"Wait," says Vika, shoving her hand into her robe pocket, "thanks for the help," — and gives me a huge bar of milk chocolate. Roomy pockets, though.

"Oh, it's nothing," I say, — as we usually all respond in such cases.

"Take it. Actually, we have one more small request. Or rather, even a big one."

"Oookay..." I say.

"Can Vadik and I take a shower at your place? We'll bring all our hygiene products, we'll wash the tub."

Well, here we go, I thought. What about my quiet, sweet evening. And if it were just Vika alone — I'd be for it. Even the thought that such a juicy woman would be washing in my shower. With such a meaty ass that even the robe doesn't hide. Maybe I'd accidentally see something else. Or, as usually happens in porn stories — she forgot a towel, please hand it to her. Well, you understand — but here there are two of them. And that's not it at all.

"A free haircut from me," she says. "Even today."

Well, okay, so be it with you, I think. Come in.

"Yes, come over, no problem. Even without the haircut."

"When is it convenient for you for us to come?"

"Better earlier. Now is fine," I reply.

"You're our savior," says Vadik. "I have an interview tomorrow. And just imagine — going unwashed, unshaven."

The family gathered their washcloths, underwear, and other bathing supplies, and we returned to my place. I poured Vadik some tea, and Vika with a bunch of bags went first.

"Sorry we're being so brazen," says Vadik.

"It's fine. It's the utility workers who are brazen, not you."

And then he seemed to pour a bucket of cold water full of piranhas over me:

"Ruslan, you're not gay, are you?" — I, of course, choked on my tea several times. — I didn't even understand — is he asking in a good way, or is it some kind of insult. In our culture, unfortunately, it's sometimes considered a swear word.

"I'm not," I say. "Why do you ask all of a sudden?"

"Sorry, man," he says. "I just thought I saw you at our gathering. I'm bisexual myself, but there's a club where my friend works as a bartender. And I drop by sometimes. I thought I saw you there once."

"I don't think so," I say. "And what questions you have, buddy. Unexpected and straight to the core."

"We just have a very free family. Vika — she's actually my aunt, but I'm like a son to her. Raised me from infancy, you could say. Recently, I had sex with her, can you imagine? But before that, I was dating a guy. My uncle Tolya left Vika two years ago and she's lacking. So guess — am I gay or not. Bisexual, probably."

I, of course, was stunned by such a story, but didn't show it. A strange guy, a bit creepy in his frankness.

"Not bad," is all I could squeeze out. "Very not bad. Free views, I'm all for that myself." — and took a sip of tea.

"You're for that?" he says. "Don't you want to try with the three of us?" — I choked again. This guy is a complete psycho.

"No, thanks," I say. And I think — that's it, no more of them in my house. Who would have known. A sea of faceless people in a huge city and each has a dinosaur skeleton in their closet. Although... On what peak of bliss would I be, having access to this neighbor's body.

"I'm usually more for just two, though," I corrected myself. "I wouldn't mind chatting with Vika." — Vadik's eyes lit up.

"And she too, can you imagine!" he says breathlessly. "She told me yesterday she'd like to suck your young cock."

"This is all very unusual," I say.

The water in the shower stopped making noise and Viktoria's voice was heard:

"Vadik, you're next!"

"Want her now?" — in a half-whisper

Vadik says to me.

"To be honest — very much," I reply. My dick, meanwhile, had already hardened and formed a tent in the crotch area.

Vika came out of the shower. Of course, already dressed in the same robe. At the same time, her well-filled cups of a black push-up bra were visible. Aromatic, washed tits of a dairy cow. Slippers on bare feet and a bag with dirty laundry in her hands.

"I'll go home then," she says. "Come back for dinner. Ruslan — you too, if you want. We have fried wings and julienne."

"Just a second," says Vadik. He went up to her and started whispering something in her ear. Vika looked at me several times. I was embarrassed by the bulge in my pants and tried to cover it with my hands, adopting the thinker's pose.

"Is this serious, what Vadik is saying?" she asks me.

"About what, more precisely," I say.

"Yeah, are you kidding or what?" — she addressed Vadik a bit nervously.

"No," he agreed, — replies the nephew.

"Serious about sex?" she says to me.

Some nonsense — this fucking machine, this neighborly goddess with gorgeous bumpers. And offering me sex. Me — just think. I was definitely being pranked somewhere and I couldn't figure out what the trick was.

"I don't quite understand what the offer consists of. But yes, I wouldn't refuse getting to know each other better." — I said honestly.

Her body smelled of fragrant shower gel, her dyed hair was pulled up in a bun, hidden by the robe halfway down her thighs, her white slender legs beckoned. I won't even mention the breasts. But such a serious face, so adult — well, she couldn't make such an offer. Even if we were in a fantasy book or a porn film.

"Let's discuss, I'll tell you," she says.

"Yes, come in — there's tea here, — have a seat," — I politely pull out a chair under her large, robe-covered buttocks.

And this psycho Vadik has a grin from ear to ear — they're definitely plotting something together.

"I'm ovulating right now — if you understand what I mean," she says. "I'd like a child, but I don't want to adopt."

"And you need a donor," I guess.

"Not exactly. — actually, I also need a man who would help financially with the child. — On my and Vadik's money — it will be difficult."

"So you need a husband. And you're offering me such a contract?"

"And I really need sex," she says. "Regular, to be healthy and happy."

What about Vadik, I think. He can quite provide that. After all, not a son.

"Vadik is a homosexual. I tried to play with him, but it didn't go beyond cuddling. He just doesn't get hard. Although he really wanted to please me — volunteered himself."

The offer seemed tempting on one hand. But on the other — supporting a child, marrying a woman one and a half times my age... There's nothing terrible about it, but it's still not a question to be decided here offhand after a bath. And on the first day of acquaintance, essentially.

"I'm very sorry. I'm probably not ready yet. More precisely, I'll think about it," I say. "I would be willing to be a sperm donor, but I'm not sure that family and a child are for me."

"Think about it," says Vika, holding the mug with her beautiful fingers. "I'm not saying let's get married today. It's just a pity that right now is the best time for conception for me."

"I repeat — I'm ready to give what I have. But I'm not ready for the continuation, so to speak. I'm really sorry, but I'm young, I want to have fun and this wasn't in my plans so far."

Unexpectedly, I noticed that my neighbor's foot had been standing on my foot for a long time and she was gently stroking my thigh with her free-from-tea hand.

"Vadik — we came to wash, I think," Vika said with a smile, — and Vadik, like an obedient slave, shot into the bathroom like a bullet. The water started making noise.

"May I?" I asked, — and reached my hand to the collar of her robe.

"Yes, certainly," she said. And I opened her juicy breast, constrained by a tight push-up bra. For some reason, breasts dressed in a bra always seemed to me no less sexy than bare tits.

"You can do more," she said. "Just touch," — Vika switched to a half-whisper. "You can touch the nipples." — and the robe fell from her shoulders, which made my dick just petrify.

"But this is not consent on my part," I began. "I just..."

"Be quiet, okay?" she whispered. And I slipped my hand into the cup of her bra, bringing out into the light a large and firm tit with a huge nipple begging to be put in my mouth.

Meanwhile, I felt her hand trying to get through the tightly stretched material of my tracksuit bottoms to the large, erect cock.

"Can you come inside me today?" she asks, gently enveloping my poor penis with her hand.

"Unfortunately, no. — I'm not sure yet that I want a child."

"If you only knew how much I want this," she whispers. Then she finally throws off