The Rape of Mrs. Huggins by metropolis
I grew up with my parents in a small apartment in the city. Our next door neighbors were Mr. and Mrs. Huggins, a couple about my parents’ age. They had been living there for longer than I had been alive, so we knew the Huggins’s very well. They didn’t have any kids of their own, and I think because of that they were always very happy to baby sit me and as I got older I was always welcome to drop in any time.
My bedroom wall butted up against theirs, though I don’t think anyone else realized it, and the walls were cheap and thin. From an early age I would hear plenty of strange sounds coming through the wall at night, moans and grunts and naughty words that I didn’t understand. When puberty hit it became clear to me what I was hearing and it fascinated me. I had my parents help me rearrange my room so my bed was against the joining wall and nearly every night I would drift off to the sweet sounds of passionate sex. Sometimes I hear one of them bump into the wall or the sound of the bed bounce and I was dying to see what I had been hearing for all these years.
Mr. Huggins was older than Mrs. Huggins and he was a large man, not obese but certainly heavy set. I imagined a man like that had a sizable cock and absolutely obliterated Mrs. Huggins. Mrs. Huggins herself was in her early forties and was no small fry herself. She wasn’t very tall but she had some weight on her, mostly in places that would catch a man’s eye. Her breasts were massive, moderately saggy but large enough to heave off her chest anyhow, and her ass was full, round, and fat. That said, she wasn’t a fat woman by any stretch, but she was thick all the way through and voluptuous.
Considering the noises I heard and the propensity for a young man’s attention to be easily hypnotized by massive tits and a curvy body, it’s no surprise that Mrs. Huggins positively dripped sexuality to me. Each night that the sweet noises flooded my room I would lie awake with the sheets off, my stiff cock standing proudly, and pump out load after load to the delicious sound of Mrs. Huggins shuddering through another orgasm.
When I was fifteen, Mr. Huggins had a heart attack and passed away abruptly. The shock of it was devastating to Mrs. Huggins and greatly saddened our family since we had known them forever. For a long time the adjacent apartment was silent a I did my best to forget about my attraction to Mrs. Huggins. Sure, when I saw her I still noticed her luscious form but I was a teenager, I had a handful of different girlfriends on and off, and generally I thought my pubescent years of masturbating to my middle aged neighbor were over.
That is until one night last week, now age seventeen, when just as I crawled into bed I began to hear strange sounds through the apartment walls. I recognized them immediately as Mrs. Huggins voice, fluttering through different octaves as she was washed through with pleasure, but I didn’t hear her partner. I listened intently, my cock throbbing, until I finally pieced it together: she was alone, pleasuring herself. This image in my mind, of Mrs. Huggins soft skin rocking as she penetrated herself and slammed out successive orgasms just inches from me, sent me through the roof. I stroked out the largest and most powerful load I’d ever seen, splattering the bed and soaking myself, before collapsing in delight. Once again, Mrs. Huggins tantalizing form was forefront on my mind.
The next day I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t focus at school, and spent the entire day carefully hiding my rock hard boner. Mrs. Huggins invaded my thoughts and teased my mind. The day flew by and I trundled home, in a hurry to reach the privacy of my room and relieve my aching cock. I must have stomped my way up the stairs and through the hall because as I approached our apartment I heard a door open behind me.
“Johnny, oh great, I thought I heard you.”
I turned and smiled at Mrs. Huggins. She stood in her doorway and my jaw dropped. She had been exercising, clearly, and she was flushed and sweaty. She wore only a stringy tank top, her tits held firm in a sports bra, but plenty of cleavage and soft tummy skin were visible. Below she had on grey exercise shorts that clung to her, and I tried desperately not to stare at the obvious camel toe that winked at me.
“Oh, hi Mrs. H., what’s up?” I said nonchalantly.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you whenever I saw you next, but you’re a tough boy to get a hold of,” she smiled.
“Yeah, I’ve been playing some sports this year, and you know, starting to look at colleges, so I guess I’ve been pretty busy.”
She nodded. “Good, busy is good. All that activity should be keeping you out of trouble,” she laughed and tapped my arm. My cock throbbed. “But, now that you’re here, do you have a sec?”
“Uh, sure, I guess,” I really wanted to get home and take care of the tremendous load that had been boiling up in me all day, but I couldn’t resist spending some more time stealing glances at Mrs. Huggins.
“Great, ok, it will only take a second,” she could tell I was anxious to leave. “I’ve got something for you, c’mon in.”
Mr. and Mrs. Huggins had always given me birthday and Christmas presents, that was how close we were, but it wasn’t near either of those occasions so I was a little confused.
“It’s just a little something that Gary had for years and wanted to give to you once you were old enough,” she explained as we slowly made our way though her apartment. “Oh, he always thought of you as like a nephew that he never had, you know?” I smiled, happy to watch Mrs. Huggins’ ass wiggle as she led me to a spare room.
“I can wait out here if you…” I started, trying to be polite.
“Nonsense, Johnny, come here. It’s just in this closet somewhere. You know, after Gary passed I had so much stuff that I didn’t want to get rid of, so I just boxed it all up and stuffed it in this old room. Now, I know it’s in the closet,” she said as she threw the closet door open. Inside was an utter mess. The closet was deep and dark, overflowing with shoeboxes, clothes, knick-knacks, bags, and random belongings. My eyes were devouring Mrs. Huggins’ glowing, sticky skin as she stared at the closet, puzzled.
“Well,” she smiled at me, “just give me a second and I know I’ll find it.” With that she leaned into the pile of stuff and began rifling through it, pulling bags open and popping tops off boxes. She muttered to herself as she did, trying to remember.
She dropped to her knees and began to dig through the junk. She leaned way into the closet and was practically lost in the refuse. My brain suddenly snapped, somehow, and I became totally intent and focused on her bent form. She was on her knees and bent over, digging way deep inside the closet, her round ass jutting up at me. Her tiny shorts were squeezed against her thick thighs and began to ride up. As she stretched they rode in further, now the supple bottom of her ass was exposed and I yearned to touch it. I felt myself losing control, losing control of myself, and I don’t even remember undoing my pants but I suddenly realized they were around my ankles and I was stroking my cock.