Chapter 1

The words still ring in Monica’s head, like a doorway leading to a whole new room or life. They were simple yet tinged with the slight accent and voice that anyone would immediately know as June’s. So simple. “Hey, Monica! C’mere. I got something to show you.” That was it. Monica still woke to those words late at night, early in the pre-dawn morning, knowing that with those few words her life changed forever.

What if she hadn’t shrugged and walked over with a smile? Well, the deed had already been done, so maybe nothing would have been any different. The man she knew as Cole would still be there, would still want what she had already given up to him, and June would still be standing on the side with that nasty little smile on her face, knowing everything and planning how to use it for her own benefit.

So Monica had smiled and played dumb, thinking everything could be forgotten, the past lost in memory. She had been washing her car, a used nothing of a Toyota that got dusty from its lack of use. Monica could have been inside preparing some chicken for Jim’s dinner or maybe catching up with an online college class she was in the middle of. Wouldn’t have really mattered. Nothing would have changed. June would have still walked up and given that crooked little smile and thrown up her chin and still said “Hey, Monica! C’mere. I got something to show you.” And Monica would still have put everything down and gone with a naïve little smile of her own, sure that nothing was amiss.

The first sign that something was wrong was June wanting Monica to walk all the way back over to her house, where June lived with Cole, her father. June just turned and starting walking, expecting Monica to follow, past old Mrs. Flynn’s place, then cutting across the yard to June’s doorway. It was a short two-minute walk, filled in by June talking about how Cole had just finished digging a small plot of ground for Mrs. Flynn to plant a spring garden in.

Nothing unusual there. That’s how the two families had met. Over the past year Jim, Monica’s husband, and Cole had often worked together as they did their neighborly duty to care for the ageing woman in the middle. Fix a leaking sink, trap some mice, even invite Mrs. Flynn over for Thanksgiving when it was obvious she had nobody else to share the holiday with. Pretty soon Cole and Jim and all were on a first-name basis, though other than helping the elderly woman and the occasional sharing of a plate of cookies, their lives never really overlapped.

The second sign of impending trouble was June’s focus on Cole and everything he was doing at home and for Mrs. Flynn. Cole was the one person Monica really didn’t want to think about. Mostly because he was all she could think about, ever since the events of a week before, and then just the previous weekend. Monica hadn’t meant for anything to happen, she had just wanted to be a good neighbor, but it was pretty obvious that Cole knew just what he wanted and made sure Monica delivered.

With every step toward June and Cole’s house, Monica’s heart beat just a little faster. She had vowed to never return, never go back through that doorway, and here she was returning like a fly being invited back into the web of some spider it had befriended. Monica knew she shouldn’t, but she was trusting, and it was June asking her to see something, not Cole, so no harm. Right?

Monica tried to control her breathing and ease her growing nervousness and just focused on the young female form walking in front of her. Maybe that was a third sign of trouble. June was a beautiful teen, attending a local high school. She wasn’t as tall as Monica and without the full adult chest Monica was often reminded of by passing men, but June dressed and certainly carried herself with an air of arrogant sexuality. The girl was only wearing a simple half-blouse that literally hung off her nipples. The girl had on a cute pair of shorts, but from the rear Monica could imagine what a young man would think. The thin material was cut short and tight, riding high enough to show the lower portion of the girl’s ass cheeks and tight enough to provide an outline of her not-so-well-hidden labia. Then there was the way June walked. She was only in flat sandals but moving her hips as though she were in heels, her pert ass moving from side to side as though advertising itself to the entire block. Monica would have normally been scandalized and happy to condemn, but as she approached June’s house, her too-recent experiences with Cole came flooding into her mind.

It had started off so innocently, just over a week before. Monica had done the neighborly thing, calling over and asking if June and Cole wanted any part of a Costco chicken she had bought. She had planned on Jim getting home at his regular time of about 4:30, but then he called and said his boss had asked him to fill in for someone, essentially making him do a double shift. Jim was nice, as ever, and had said yes, but that left Monica with a whole chicken and salad and nobody to eat it with.

It was unusual but not really odd for her to offer half of it to June and her dad, and instead of a simple yes or no, June had run over and invited Monica to bring the whole dinner over so that they could share each other’s food and company. If only she had just taken it over to Mrs. Flynn.

At the time it seemed a good idea, June adding some kind of stewed tomato and vegetable dish and Cole opening up a bottle of white wine. It was a feast and Monica was sincerely sad Jim couldn’t be there to enjoy it. The food was good and June was the respectful high-school teen every parent would be happy to have. Then there was Cole, full of stories about life on the block and at work as the two adults finished off his bottle of wine with only a single glass being stolen by the underage teen.

Cole was one of those people you always enjoyed talking with. Always with a smile, eyes glinting, seeming to actually care when he asked how you were or where you had bought some item. It also helped that he was handsome. Only a little taller than Monica’s five foot ten, but fit, stout and clean and always well dressed. Never just a pair of dirty jeans and a tee; always clean shaven, his thick black hair combed and his shirt tucked in. Yet he was always busy. If not at work then improving his own home or doing something for Mrs. Flynn. The man was full of energy, and as it radiated out from him Monica could only wonder why he was tasked with raising a teenage daughter all alone.

June. Just another teenager, and though Monica had herself only just turned 21, she looked at June and felt a degree of envy. It was sad that she didn’t have a mother to turn to, but Cole seemed to dote on the girl and gave her a lot of freedom. More than once Monica had seen June being dropped off at night by a carload of other kids, mostly boys, all acting wild and crazy in a way only youth could take advantage of.

June certainly had the looks boys would be lusting for. The long lustrous black hair, light brown skin that only improved the beauty of her facial features, feminine points of interest prominently showing through her ubiquitous tank-top or skimpy blouse, and always a pair of pants that showed every curve of her hips, front and back. Monica knew she had worn worse when she was in high school, but she couldn’t help but wince at how June seemed to advertise her feminine goods for all to see.

After Cole had seated Monica at the table and poured her some wine and insisted on carving the chicken, he focused on Monica and made her feel at home. Whatever the topic of conversation, he always turned it back to her, such as asking what she did at home, where she was from, what she was studying and where she had met Jim and where he worked. Always full of questions, but he was also happy to talk about himself. Monica was a little unsure of how to ask where he and his daughter were from, but he seemed to revel in stories about his past.

In short, his wife had been straight out of Mexico, as was most of her family, living in some small town in Texas. Cole was just a passerby in his younger years who, according to June, was waylaid by her mom in the restaurant she worked in. Two weeks after they had been introduced over a cup of coffee they were married, and nine months later June was born.

“Yeah, such a beautiful woman” reminisced Cole. “No way I could leave town without her, and no way she wanted to leave her family, so there I stayed. That’s why June has her accent. Didn’t speak English until she started going to school.”

“You speak Spanish, Cole? I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have guessed it of June until you said so.”

“Oh yes, both of us. But I spent most of my childhood in LA, English all around, Spanish only at home or on the streets. Very different from what June was raised in. Lived there in Texas with her mother for almost ten years until we moved up to this part of the country.”

Monica was reluctant to ask but felt it a big blank space that needed to be filled in. “So, where’s the mother now? Your wife I mean.”

“Mexico. She returned with her family but I’d never really fit in there. I’m only grateful that she allowed me to keep my little Juniper berry here. She reminds me so much of her mom.”

June smiled, a thin tight smile, the natural beauty of the girl’s face going dark. Obviously something was being unsaid, the story incomplete, but Monica kept any further questions to herself.

Monica remembered the wine disappearing all too quickly, but so did the food. It was an enjoyable hour, her mind mellow and yet excited with the new information about her neighbors. June cleaned up and just as Monica was thinking of heading back home for a cup of tea and a shower, June had announced that she had a date and wouldn’t be back until ten or so. Perfect timing, but as Monica was getting up and making her excuses to leave, June pushed her back into her chair, putting a half-empty tequila bottle on the table and saying, “Not until you have one for the road. Dad here always has one after dinner. Or maybe two. You guys enjoy.” And as quickly as June departed, Cole had poured out two shots of clear white liquid, then raising his glass and toasting Monica. “To the best neighbors ever.”

What could Monica do but toast him back with the same words? She easily downed her small allotment of tequila even without the salt and lime she remembered being the standard procedure back when she and Jim were still dating. Monica had barely put her glass down on the table before Cole had filled it again, requesting that she make the next toast. She said something banal like “To life and happiness” and again took it all in a single gulp. It hit the stomach just right, no complaints there, but Monica was suddenly aware that the buzzed feeling she got from the wine had quickly turned into her being woozy though not yet on the wrong side of being drunk.

Not a problem. She could easily wobble home and make it into the shower and onto the couch, even when everything around her seemed to be moving and shifting. Cole had of course poured another shot for her, saying, “Hey, Monica. One more for the road. Then I’ll help you carry your stuff back to your place.”

Yeah, that sounded fair, and Monica knew that in her state of inebriation she’d need his help in carrying things. So once more, one more for the road, and then a last small shot to finish the bottle off. When Monica tried to stand, she found herself unable to hold herself upright without leaning on the table. It had been more than a year since she had gotten this drunk. Maybe it had been the previous fall at a friend’s barbeque when Jim had to drive her home and put her to bed with apologies to everyone at the party. She had intentionally cut back on her alcohol consumption after that. Now here she was embarrassing herself with her neighbor, too drunk to walk and Cole sure to tell Jim how sloshed she had gotten. Then Cole had shown his true intentions.

“Monica, you look as tipsy as I am. Would you like some coffee?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry Cole. I didn’t mean to drink so much. Guess I don’t have a head for tequila. At least not like I used to. Yeah, some coffee would be great.”

Cole took a few things into the kitchen but Monica doesn’t think he started any coffee. He came right out and led her over to the couch in the front room. He sat down next to her, an arm around the front of her waist, another hand massaging her shoulder, and telling her things she wasn’t supposed to hear, saying things he wasn’t supposed to admit.

“Oh, Monica. You’re so tight up here. Let me massage those shoulders for you. Just relax here for a little while longer. I’m so lucky to have such a beautiful young woman in my home. You know how beautiful you are, right? I mean, just look at your legs and ass. In that dress your ass sticks right out, like it’s begging for someone to squeeze it. And I don’t think it was an accident that you didn’t put on a bra. Your tits are stunning, your nipples poking right through the fabric. You sure made it hard for me to eat. My god but you’re a hot looking young thing.”

Monica was shocked by what Cole was saying to her, but it took a long minute for her brain to hear and understand all the meaning behind his words. Then, as she was thinking, of what he was saying and what she should do, Monica realized Cole had leaned in and was kissing her neck, pushing aside her long blond curls and giving soft kisses to her neck and ear and cheek.

All Monica could do was say “No,” even then trying to be the polite neighbor, waiting until his hand rose to feel up her far breast before giving out a pretend laugh and saying, “No, Cole. I think you’ve had too much to drink. I need to go.”

Cole acted as though he didn’t hear, a second hand joining it’s brother on her chest, his mouth moving over to cover hers and give Monica a long kiss. Monica hadn’t meant to kiss Cole back, sucking in his lips seeming to be what she always did when Jim played with her breasts and kissed her. She again had to remind her drunken self that this wasn’t Jim. It took all her will to stand up, pulling her body up and away from Cole’s grasp, leaning on the back of a chair while focusing on the front door.

That’s when everything went sideways. Monica suddenly found herself looking at the ceiling, slowly coming to the realization that Cole had picked her up. His arms supported her back and legs, and Cole was now walking with her in his grasp.

More striking to Monica was the sight of Cole bending his head down to suck in on one of her breasts. The top of her dress had mysteriously become untied from around her neck and pushed down to her stomach, which left both of her bouncing tits open to sight and within reach of Cole’s clean shaven mouth.

It seemed to take an hour, all while Monica was held up in Cole’s strong arms as he sucked in first one large pert breast and then another. Even a week later Monica could remember the feel of his teeth on her nipples, the tingle in her crotch as he sucked in and lashed her nipples with his tongue. After a few indelicate words from Cole, of how delicious to his eyes, of how hot and lovely her perfect tits were, he would move on to the other breast for another minute of sucking and tonguing.

Monica couldn’t get a word out, stifling the moans she would normally give for her husband, feeling it unseemly to enjoy such lude acts with her handsome neighbor, but she knows she enjoyed everything he did. It had been weeks, months, since Jim had shown such lust and need for her, and Monica couldn’t deny that her body was reacting in a very positive way to Cole’s loving attention, however wrong it was.

As Cole took turns at sucking in on her breasts, Monica may not have moaned but she did push her chest up, making it easier for Cole to give her the oral pleasure her body obviously wanted. She had one arm around Cole’s neck, the other hand on his far shoulder, her breasts gleaming before her eyes with the wetness of Cole’s active tongue and mouth. Monica watched as though another person standing on the side, mesmerized by the sight of her neighbor feasting on her naked chest. Then, as suddenly as the indecent act had begun, she found herself being placed on a bed, Cole merely carrying her in a slow walk down a hallway and into his bedroom.

As Cole lowered Monica to the bed, the undeniable pleasure of giving her breasts over to Cole’s oral love making was ended. In an instant Monica regained her senses, suddenly aware of the danger she was in. Mind fought body, and as Cole leaned over to kiss Monica, she found some control and tried to back up onto the bed. Her intent was to escape from Cole, but all she did is back into a wall.

Cole said something about how beautiful she was, but his polite words were matched with rough hands as he put a knee up on the mattress and pulled Monica back toward him with two hands grabbing under her knees. Monica found herself hyperventilating, her mind hardly able to think, knowing only that she needed to escape and run home. Yet as she tried to think of what to do, Cole was acting. His hands quickly moved under the crumpled folds of her dress, then grasping Monica’s panties, pulling them back and off her ass but stopping when they reached her thighs. Her legs were spread out, Cole’s legs and waist preventing them from clasping together, but also impeding his ability to remove this one crucial article of clothing. Yet in a slow-motion moment Cole simply moved both hands together and then pulled her panties apart at the thin seam. He ripped one side of Monica’s white bikini briefs in a long ten second act of violence, making her heart race and leaving the dark area between her thighs defenseless before him.

She didn’t even try to scurry back again, thrown into confusion by the indecency of Cole’s actions. Yet it wouldn’t have mattered. Cole immediately slid his hands under her ass, playing with her twin cheeks for a moment, saying something about what a perfect round ass Monica had. That’s when he roughly pulled her open thighs and naked snatch tight against his equally naked crotch.

Monica found herself feeling Cole’s hard cock pushing into the open cleft of her pussy. He was leaning down, knees into the bed, one hand under her ass and another pushing Monica down at her bare shoulder as he ground his hard thick length of manhood through her slit.

Monica was too shocked to move, aware of what was going to come next yet unable to do anything about it other than watch her legs flail up and down at Cole’s side. What still shames her is thinking that at that moment, she more than anything wanted Cole to do what he did. If he had suddenly regained his senses and apologized and fixed her dress and walked her home, she would have hated him forever. In that last second Monica did what she was supposed to, pulling back and trying to roll away, but in her mind, as Cole pulled his cock back and pressed his advantage, Monica let out a long stifled moan of gratitude and collapsed onto the bed.

It wasn’t a quick slip up and into her for a few quick thrusts before depositing the contents of his ball sac. Nothing like the simple and predictable habits that Jim had fallen into in their second year of marriage. Cole had Monica trapped and he enjoyed every minute of having her under his control. As he pressed the fat leading hood of his cock against her vaginal gate, Monica had taken a quick breath in, gasping at what she knew was about to push into her. Cole held her down and leaned in, the leading tip seeming to pry her open, making a physical demand for entrance into her pussy, and her body had reluctantly given way to the onslaught of male lust and strength.

Monica stopped with her useless struggles and gave out a grunt of surprise followed by a loud moan. His first inch or two seemed to pop into her, her moan growing loud as Cole pulled back and then pushed further into her, filling Monica’s vaginal tunnel with yet another couple of inches of the man’s thick phallus.

With a push against Cole’s shoulder Monica tried to close her legs but found Cole’s hips in the way. Monica was hardly aware of what Cole was saying, too focused on the ever greater effect his cock was having on her, his slow demanding movement inside of her allowing Monica to think of nothing else. It was an effort for her body to accommodate him, her vagina having no choice but to stretch out to fit Cole’s thick size.

With every pull back, every push in with yet another inch of his cock, Monica would moan, one of her legs rising, once both knees up and wide, as Monica found her hands grasping his arm and shoulder and pulling him in. With each of her moans, with each inch gained, she remembered Cole saying the most indecent things. “My god you’re hot Monica. I’ve never felt such a tight little pussy. You’re so wet, you’re already dripping on my bed. You really must have wanted this, the way you dressed for me. Just listen to yourself moan. You wanted this even more than me.” Lots of that, but much more dirty, in words Monica didn’t like to think about. But most upsetting was knowing he was right. It wasn’t her fault. She was drunk and couldn’t escape, but at the time the only thing she wanted was for Cole to not stop, to never stop.

Her focus on how deep Cole was pushing his cock into her changed when he began really fucking her. He had gone as deep as he could, his crotch slapping hard and noisily into her open thighs, his balls grinding into her upraised ass, Cole obviously lost in the moment and the fuck. It was both stimulating and painful for Monica, forcing her to finally come out of her trance and tell him he was in too deep and that it was hurting.

Cole just grunted out his reply. “You wait. By the time we’re done, you’ll be begging for the whole thing.”

The movement of his hips never slowed, his cock continuing it’s rampage inside of her, but Cole had held back on the depth of his thrusts. He was obviously aware of his girth and length and the smaller size of the woman he had taken over. At first he just pulled back and pushed in, Cole seemingly as mesmerized by the movement of his cock in Monica’s tight wet pussy as she was. Then he began bouncing with the bed, pressing down into the mattress and then rising up as the mattress retracted. He moved his hands down under her ass, holding her tight ass cheeks and controlling her hips and twat, his legs keeping her thighs wide and open as he bounced the mattress and Monica’s open snatch up and down, fucking her in a wildness she had never experienced and had no control over.

Monica was shocked to hear herself groaning in joy, approaching an orgasm and loving the sight of the man who had so taken over her body. He seemed to be a dark angel in the dim light, a strong black haired demon meant to punish her with pleasure, and Monica could only groan in appreciation. She had brought her feet up onto the bouncing bed, knees wide, focusing on the rising desire inside of her, the rising tide of a rare orgasm, when all of a sudden Cole popped out. The rhythm had been perfect, the rise and fall of her pussy with his cock, the long controlled fuck that Cole himself seemed to be lost in, all broken in an instant when her assailant’s pole was pulled a little too far back and their union was broken.

Cole seemed to be as shocked by the separation as Monica, the two brought back to reality as his long dripping wet dick slipped out of her. He simply said, “Oh damn.” To her consternation, instead of pushing it back in and continuing with what all men are supposed to do, he collapsed onto Monica, pressing her legs wider, covering her bare chest with his own and kissing her.

Monica knew she wasn’t supposed to kiss back, but it seemed a minor thing given what she and Cole had been sharing over the previous ten minutes. Lost in her own feelings of lust, she gave in to the intimacy, kissing him, sucking in on his lips, and loving the man who had so wonderfully if unacceptably ravished her. Monica fully expected Cole to continue with his loving and fucking, all thought of escape being banished from her mind. Yet as Cole pulled back, began to stand and perhaps re-enter her tight wet and hungry hole, Monica found herself being pulled back with him, slipping off the side of the bed and onto the floor. Her ass and hips had been pulled a little too far off the edge and she couldn’t stop herself, sliding down until she was kneeling at the side of the bed.

Not so oddly she also found herself facing Cole, his bare crotch, hairy thighs and balls and fat thick boner, and all right before her face. As though it had all been planned, Cole reached out to grab a handful of Monica’s thick blond curls, pulling her head up and into where he held his cock out for her to suck on. This wasn’t new to Monica, but she was amazed at how wet his cock was and at how wide she had to open her mouth to suck in the entire hood of his pole. She hadn’t seen another man’s privates since she had started going with Jim some three years before. Monica had fallen into a rut, as all married people do, and the sudden confrontation with Cole’s larger than life male organ made her gasp and reconsider what men were for and about.

From habit she brought her hands up to hold the throbbing pole of flesh steady, again amazed at how it took both of her hands to hold him, to make it all the way around the trunk of his cock. As she tried licking and sucking, doing her womanly duty, she again thought of how wet his cock was, of all the liquid she was having to swallow down. Then she realized that usually when she gave Jim a blowjob he’d just let her suck him into hardness and then quickly orgasm, the only liquid entering her mouth being her own saliva and then his few spurts of semen. It was never very difficult and even something of a turn on for her. Sadly, by the time Jim had his happy moment, he was ready to roll over and go to sleep, leaving Monica with only a wall to stare at. Now here she was sucking down Cole’s thick length of manhood after having stretched her out and filled her up for the past many minutes. She realized that he hadn’t orgasmed inside of her, that she wasn’t tasting anything like Jim’s cum, but was sucking down and swallowing everything that her own cunt had been slathering his cock with.

Monica should have been shocked and disgusted, but she was lost in the act of trying to lick and suck on this new strange manly beast that was in her grasp. Cole was also there to control her, whispering out how good her mouth felt, how much he loved the feel of her tongue as he played the leading few inches of his cock in and out of her mouth. Monica just did as she was told, as she had always done, overwhelmed by what she was doing with this long hard fat cock she wasn’t ever supposed to see or touch. Now she was aware of nothing but the taste of Cole’s cock, of her own taste, of the sticky pre-cum that mixed with her own secretions, of how her tongue could play inside the opening slit at the very tip of his cock, and how her teeth could catch on the wide ridge of his hood. Monica’s heart slowed and she fell into old habits, bringing back skills she had honed during high school, and even coming to enjoy exploring this new length of manhood placed under her control. She even relaxed enough to hold his cock in place with her teeth as she tongued him, only half hoping he would quickly orgasm in order to see how the taste of his jism compared to Jim’s.

Cole broke the silence when he said, “You’ve sure had some practice Monica. Your mouth was meant to suck my cock, but I need you for something else right now.” He pulled his cock out of Monica’s mouth and kneeled down in front of her, leaning in to kiss her cheek, then sitting on his heels to remove and toss aside his shirt. Cole wrapped his arms around Monica’s bare shoulders and pulled her in to his equally bare chest as he leaned back to lay on the bedroom carpet. As Cole pulled Monica in tight on top of him, he used his hands to push down on the dress that had been wadded up into a kind of belt around her waist. He pushed it over and beyond her ass, using a foot to fully remove the worthless piece of clothing from her body. And there they lay, both fully naked, Cole pulling Monica up to kiss her, Monica not at all objecting, even enjoying the kissing technique of a man she had hardly known until that very evening.

Then Cole pushed her down, pulling Monica’s hips down with a movement of his body, his knees widening within her own legs and thighs. With little fanfare or preparation for his next move, Cole pushed down on her ass and raised his own hips up, his cock only momentarily pausing within her thick engorged labia before once again levering it’s girth into Monica’s very wet and, to be honest, welcoming hole.

Monica released a long moan, in shock at the re-entry of Cole’s fat pole but also in welcoming anticipation at what was in store for her. Hands holding Monica’s ass cheeks tight, Monica could feel Cole moving his hips, slowly pushing his cock back up into her, slowly and inch by inch reclaiming her pussy as his own. With his knees pushed up and pushing Monica’s thighs out in a wide V, Cole began humping up, holding Monica tight and unmoving on top of him as he began fucking her fast and hard. With his hips and ass pounding loud on the carpet, Monica could also hear the wet slurping sounds of their bodies as they merged, her wet secretions providing more than enough lubricant for Cole to pound hard and deep into her hole.