Next Whore Neighbor - Cover

Next Whore Neighbor

Copyright© 2022 by SZENSEI

Episode 1

Erotica Sex Story: Episode 1 - Christina Holly felt completely alone in the world. Her boyfriend Dixon on the road three weeks at a time as a trucker left her without attention. Shy and normally reserved she simply sat around. It wasn't until the neighborhood boys letting her know their desires of her that coaxed her from her shell. Hardly a perfect body, Amazon to some she was hard on herself. Once the boys got through to her, she was willing to do anything for them. ANYTHING! Slut! Whore! Goddess! Let the worshiping begin.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Drunk/Drugged   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Cheating   Humiliation   Rough   Spanking   Gang Bang   Group Sex   Orgy   Black Male   White Male   White Female   Hispanic Male   White Couple   Anal Sex   Double Penetration   Exhibitionism   Facial   Massage   Masturbation   Squirting   Tit-Fucking   Voyeurism   Big Breasts   Foot Fetish   Public Sex  

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Christina Holly was a lonely soul, her man always on the road as a long distance over the road semi-truck driver. It was nothing for her man Dixon to be up north or on the west coast for three weeks at a time before being home three weeks straight. While he took care of Christina just fine financially, she found herself bored silly most days. She didn’t work, she didn’t have kids, she didn’t even have a goldfish to keep her company. At 27 no woman should have so much time on her hands. The only thing she had was her hobbies of cooking and shopping online using Dixon’s money. He was fine with her spending habits as long as what she purchased was for their home, or for their personal use. A treadmill came in handy to keep her weight down, Christina was not a petite model for certain, plus size model more like. Her booty had a nice heart shape going on even being bigger than the type of girls most men liked to look at. Amazon if you will. Fluffy in build just no way close to obese. Dixon always told her that it was more to love, so cliché. Chris referred to her body as pleasantly plump in the rump, with a firm muscle tone in her tummy, abs and legs to compliment her build. Recently on the scale she topped out at 170. Not bad for a woman 5 foot 7.

Now her chest? Those were every man’s dream. She had enormous beautifully round melons that somehow managed to avoid sagging. 34H with unbelievably tight nipples that were almost always hard. Her waist and hips a classy 26/38. With a golden tan assisted by a tanning bed on their back porch she maintained a stunning all over complexion. Pretty bold considering their back porch was only screened in with no blinds to prevent prying eyes. A risk indeed with neighbors close on all sides of their older home.

The crazy thing was, she had never socialized with any of them. It was almost as if they were vacant homes save for seeing lights at night or hearing loud music on weekends. Truthfully the only time she actually saw habitation was when men would mow their yards or wash their cars in the drive. Across the street some high school age young men would play basketball in the driveway pretty often. In all reality she never felt more alone. Depression was becoming a problem.

Having met Dixon online three years ago they hit it off immediately, his Texan look and drawl won her over like butter on bread. Looking like a young Alan Jackson certainly added to his mystique. Perfect combo. Much older than Christina by 12 years, Dixon was more of a father figure in some ways. Moving to Texas from Alabama was a huge turning point in her life. Having been sheltered most of her younger years by living with her grandparents. All she really had was church and school. Even during those years, she had very few close friends due to her grandparent’s overpowering personas. Life was never easy.

Thank goodness for computers and chatrooms which Christina managed to slip under their radar. At 24 her grandparents had less to say but still brought up that this was their roof bullshit. Unable to deal with it any longer she and Dixon agreed to give a relationship a go. Once Christina moved to Austin, Texas to live with him those computer urges faded away, not that they didn’t own a computer, but she was happy pleasing her man without the need to flirt with other men. Three years later, her thoughts were changing. She needed something more, yet she just didn’t want to cheat on him, even if the local men of Austin did at least look her way when out and about. Which wasn’t all that much due to a sloppy attire. Not even to church these days because she feared they would try and lead her life as well. Her upbringing was just too constricting, that is until Dixon came along. He was her crutch. She did adore him. Most days! When he was home Dixon drank far too much, making up for not imbibing while on the road.

She had noticed men at grocery stores and the like checking her out in small but obvious doses, feeding her ego. She needed that. Being pretty much a homebody, she did feel the need to flaunt it on occasion just to feel wanted. As said, her booty and breasts were eye catchers. Speaking of eyes her gorgeous green orbs drew attention to her as well. Add in her long wavy dirty blonde hair that flowed down to her shoulders, she was voluptuous and formidable. With Dixon just leaving for Utah her boredom was just beginning. Three weeks away always seemed like an eternity.

“Oh, Christina what are you going to do for three whole weeks? Again!” She sat down on their cushy cream-colored sofa, a furry white throw on the back for those cool nights. There were only so many talk shows one could sit through before pulling their hair out. Yet, she was somewhat addicted to a few. Definitely not Ellen. What seemed to capture her attention lately was those shock jock shows that didn’t pull punches about life, love, and sexuality. It was amusing at times, curious during others, almost erotic and dead-on target as to what she felt missing in her life. Not that she was looking to have an affair on Dixon, but the notion had crossed her mind a few times. With the world silent all around her she just couldn’t take it anymore. Treadmill time.

Wearing snug jeans and a button down red and black flannel shirt belonging to Dixon she knew the treadmill was no place for either. With the treadmill also on the back porch she carefully took a hard look at the houses around her. Zero activity she decided to live a little and strip down to her bra and panties. The one thing that Christina would never give up was her fashion sense. Colorful, frilly things made her feel better about her size. Today her matching set was white in every way, G-string style undies and lacy prison guards keeping her chest in check. Lace with sheer portions left a hint of spoilers. The Texas heat was already ramping up at 11:00 AM. The better to sweat off a few unwanted calories she thought.

Firing up the treadmill she slipped her tennis shoes back on before actually setting the belt in motion. It felt good to run even if it was for short distances. Setting the timer for a meager mile was about all she could manage in a single day, huffing and puffing at even that distance. She tried her best though at least three days a week. Strangely, this was the first time to run in only her underwear. She didn’t know she had it in her to be so brazen.

“This is so liberating.” She thought, looking about at the other neighboring homes in her run out of caution. Not a peep from any angle, she felt comfortable in the moment. “Maybe I’ll do this more often. Who knows I might even risk running naked.” She giggled, “I’m in the privacy of my own home. As long as nobody sees me, why not?” Her run gave her chest whiplash but in her mind it was worth it. Those melons were bouncing everywhere even contained in a good supportive bra. Working up a sweat her golden flesh was growing shiny. She felt rather sexy in the moment. Lost in thought at her newfound freedom she became oblivious to anything but her thrill.

Then, came a shrill whistle. Panic striking like lightning she nearly fell forward on her rotating belt. Forced to hold on for dear life to the handrails she managed to lift herself up enough to straddle the treadmill track, her shoes to each side of the belt. Fearfully she looked about to find her voyeur. There was not a soul in sight. Stepping back off of the belt she let it proceed without her as she covered her chest with her arms and stepped around the porch to peer out every screen on three sides of her. She saw no one.

“I must have heard a bird, even if it did sound like a man whistling a wolf call. Would that be all bad?” She smirked to herself shivering. “I better call this run and get inside, just in case.” A second whistle heard made her freeze in step to explore where it came from. “That was no bird.” What she worried about was that some man had seen her and was ducking under the screens to hide from her notice. Who though?

“You should run like that more often.” She heard in a low tone. “Sexy!”

“Shit!” She covered her private parts with a towel left to dry on her tanning bed. Not running away, she continued searching for a possible body behind the voice. Gathering her nerves, she raised her voice with, “Where are you? Who are you?” No answer. Hesitantly, she went inside her house and got dressed. Her jeans from earlier and a t-shirt this time. It was getting too hot for flannel. Ten minutes of biting her nail, she felt regret over stripping down. What if whoever it was told Dixon when he got home? Not that he would yell at her, just tell her to behave. He might even laugh over it, knowing her shyness level even if there were times he suggested she open up more. It was unusual for her to do that kind of thing, his suggestions very rarely performed other than a sly flash of tit or a half moon at best.

An hour later, Christina took a cool shower to ward off the heat. She wasn’t fond of high-power bills on their budget so chose window and ceiling fans to cool the house instead of air conditioning. Stepping through from her bathroom into the living room with only a towel she felt the fan’s breeze and dropped her towel to enjoy its intoxicating caress.

“You should do that more often too.” Came a voice from outside the window. With the fan in the sill, she realized she could be seen through the rotating blade.

“What the hell?” She crouched in a hurry to pick up her towel and hold it to her chest. What she didn’t realize was that a secondary window fan also let in prying eyes from the opposite end of the living room, behind the loveseat.

“Yes, she should.” Came a second male voice.

“Quit spying on me.” She called out, “I’ll call the cops.”

“Why? We mean you no harm. We just like watching you.”

“You’re hot.” The first voice added.

While it should boost her ego it was the fact that she was home alone. With nobody to turn to for help outside the local police force she felt helpless. Dixon had no family, hers were in Alabama.

“We’re going now. Just know we think you’re beautiful.”

“From a peeping tom ... toms ... that’s...”

“A compliment. Don’t be scared, we’re not the enemy.”

“Riiiiiiiiight!”

“Nice booty by the way.” She hadn’t covered up her backside, worried more about her frontal modesty. “Seriously, we’re no threat. We just like looking at you. Gotta go!” Silence. Christina Holly trembled heavily, she didn’t know what to do outside of getting dressed and hoping the peepers were gone. In her bedroom she noticed a third fan in her window exposing the interior and wondered if she were being watched even now. Bending to look out she saw no one.

“Only one way to know for sure.” Standing up she tossed her towel aside and stood completely nude even moving about from room to room just to see if they truly had left. Nothing! She sighed to herself, “Were you expecting more whistles?” She shivered and stared at the living room window fan; it was almost mesmerizing. With no further wolf calls she shuddered and felt silly.

“Get dressed Christina, stop being foolish. It could be far too young of neighborhood kids for all you know. Although, they didn’t talk like younger kids. Shit! Now I’m curious. Stupid talk shows.” She got dressed all over again. This time in more comfortable attire. Loose shorts and a camisole without a bra. All she had left to do was face her boredom. Other than making lunch, more TV, and a crossword puzzle she had nothing. Naptime! A very long nap at that. She strangely, left those blinds up wondering if they would watch her sleep.

Waking up to the closing evening hour before nightfall, dusk if you will, she set about shutting off a couple fans and removing them from the windows to let fresh air filter in on its own. Vacuuming her house and dusting a bit to keep herself busy she eventually found herself wondering if she were being watched even now. Her windows were wide open, and a few lights were on. It was actually easier to see her than earlier in the day. The same could be said of her neighbors.

Exploring their homes, some of them already had windows lit up. Something dawned on her that made her put her shoes on and step outside before it got too dark. Walking around the entirety of her home she took a look at the ground in front of each of her windows for the possibility of footprints. Sure enough, every single window had prints in the broken soil. Grass around their home was sparse. “Pretty large feet. Definitely not kids. Teenagers probably.”

While closely inspecting a few, using her own size eleven shoe as a reference in sizes, her kneeling state let her breasts rise to greet her knees in full force. Her camisole hiding very little cleavage they almost appeared as if ready to burst free. Even her loose shorts were no longer loose in back, her ass tightening them up under the stress of bending. Out of nowhere came a whistle that made her pep up and leer about for reference. While looking in one direction a second whistle. Then a third. She stood up in a hurry and tried to decipher where exactly they were coming from. Either they were moving about, which she saw no one, or they were in the houses looking out. With three homes in sight from her current angle it was hard to tell. One across the street seemed too distant. Her heart was beating rapidly. Fear, and curiosity were fighting one another. She truly hoped this wasn’t some crazy game people were playing. Even worse, she didn’t want to be hurt in any way by some psychopath, or worse, psychopaths.

“Stop thinking like that Christina. You’ve watched too many horror movies.” Shivering she stood up and walked back toward her front door. At her front steps leading up to a sizeable front porch she realized that she hadn’t checked her mail today. Turning to detour she almost skipped along like a schoolgirl the length of her sidewalk out to the mailbox on the curb. When you have 34H breasts and no bra as support, those beauties were turbulent at even regular steps taken. Faster walking they were boulders chasing Indiana Jones.

Hearing more whistles stopped her from immediately opening her mailbox. It was almost haunting her how much she was suddenly being watched. After three years living here, she hadn’t even been winked at. Four whistles this time. Trembling she opened her mailbox and snatched up her mail, discovering a large pink envelope amid utility bills and ads. Becoming too dark out at the moment to read the name on it she just took it inside with her. No further whistles at the moment. Locking her door behind her she peeks out her window to see any foot activity. Only a random car driving by.

“I’m going to have a nervous breakdown. I really should call Dixon and tell him about the whistles.” The pink card prevented her call. “No return address. No stamp. This was obviously placed in the mailbox after the mail came.” It was only signed as Admirers. Taking a deep breath, she opened the envelope and found a card within. All it had was hearts all over the exterior of the card. Opening it she was shocked to find money falling to her feet. Bending to pick up the money she counts out an even hundred dollars in twenty-dollar bills. “What in the world?” Money shock settling, she read the card.

“Roses are red, Violets are blue. Don’t be shy, we love watching you. Use this money to buy something hot, wear it for us unless you’d rather not. Naked is even better. This is just a friendly gesture.” She bulges her eyes at the boldness of her tormenters. “Oh my God! Stalkers.” She realized her own words and mumbles, “Us! That means ... more than one. I did hear four separate whistles.” As if on cue from all four sides of her home she heard whistles at one time. Then came their words.

“Seriously, don’t be afraid of us. We just like watching you.”

“Watching me?” She follows the voice in hiding, “How long have you been watching?”

“Months.” Came another voice to her left at another window.

A third from her bedroom window seen at a bad angle, “You’re gorgeous. We all think that of you.”

“All? How many is all? Four of you?” Chuckles were heard from every direction.

“You have more admirers than that.”

“I’m calling the police.” It hit home hearing of many others.

“Sorry we laughed. Please, just listen to us first. If you want to turn us in afterward, we’ll live with the consequences of our actions.”

“Two minutes.” She goes to her coffee table to get her cellphone emphasizing her seriousness in all directions. Including the fact, she shared digits with the 9-1 without the final 1.

“Your boyfriend leaves you alone too often. We see your loneliness.”

“How can you see ... ah ... windows. I barely leave the house.”

“We swear we mean you no harm. We...”

“Just like watching me. So, you’ve said.” She grimaces. “Why me? I’m not in shape. I’m just a wannabe housewife.” That was honestly all she had as a reason, she was naive to consider more. Dixon was in no hurry however and in the end she was fine. If and when he might ever propose it would be that much more special.

“We know. Your body is amazing to us. You shouldn’t think badly of your appearance. Keep working out on that treadmill.”

“Like you did earlier.”

She shakes her head, “Perverts.”

“No denying that.” Another voice laughs, “You’re too hot to not watch.” That made for five voices.

“Listen, Christina, sorry, we read your name on a piece of mail when we placed the card in your box. None of us have any reason to hurt you. Honestly, you don’t even have to ever see our faces. We’ve watched you for a few years now, since you first moved in with the trucker.”

“It would be cool to look eye to eye though.” A sixth voice adds a chill to her bones.

“Just ... leave all of your windows wide open. Do everything in the nude. Let us just...”

“Jerk off outside my windows?” She rolls her eyes.

“Something like that. I know this is creepy but, we ... just like what we see.”

“We’re going to leave now.” The obvious leader tells her.

“Like Ninjas.” A seventh voice chimes in.

“I count seven voices. Is that all of you?”

“For now.” Another adds.

“So, this money you gave me. Maybe I’ll just use it to buy blinds and blackout curtains.”

“If that’s what you want. If you go that far it will show us that we made the wrong decision to approach you finally. Curtains up, we won’t bother you anymore. Our loss! We hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Uh huh!” She had doubts. “I won’t call the cops this time, but ... I can’t promise I won’t if you guys keep this up. Fair warning.”

“Night beautiful.” Followed by, “I’ll dream of you.”

“Hope the windows stay open.” A third sounded sad that it might not happen.

“We’ll earn your trust.” That one struck home.

“Don’t take this badly, but my dicks hard.” A fifth took a chance.

“Sleep well Christina.”

Like phantoms in the night, they were gone. Looking outside every window she didn’t even witness a shadow run away. Did they really leave or were they just ducking down until she stopped looking, giving them the break, they needed to escape. Mentally exhausted she gave up, fearing the idea of running outside to intercept them might get her hurt. The whole ordeal was terrifying. So, why wasn’t she calling Dixon, let alone the cops? For that matter why was she moist between her thighs? “I am so losing sleep over this.” She did sleep her day away. Her own fault!

She tries to relax her nerves by taking a bubble bath, her earlier shower not enough. Running the water awaiting her tub to fill she adds bubbles but leaves the flow unattended to look outside each window again. Still nothing. If they were still observing her these assholes were definitely stealthy.

In her bathroom was another window, not large enough to accommodate a fan. She felt safe in the fact of its narrow pane, although see through it had a single panel curtain. Undressing with a bad case of the shakes she lights a candle and shuts the light off. A good bottle of wine would calm her down she thought. The one thing that kept crossing her mind was that they all liked a thick girl. She knew she could easily be a plus size model under the right conditions. It wasn’t like she had a double chin, or a flat tire around her waist. She felt comfortable in her body. It was nice to be noticed, if it were only under better circumstances. Sipping her wine directly from the bottle she steps into the bubble bath and settles in to beat her nerves back. The hot water felt delightful. Blowing suds made her smile.

“Why would they give me money? Surely, they don’t think I’d really do that for them. I’m not some stripper in a glass booth.” She swigs her wine then swishes it in her mouth, “Kind of I guess, as long as I’m in my home. Don’t be stupid Christina.” She was losing that battle the more she drank. With the water getting cold, and her bottle halfway drained she looks back at the thin curtain on the narrow bathroom window and reaches awkwardly to lift the curtain and tuck it up. If any of them were still out there she was offering them a peek.

Adding hot water to her tub she stretched out a bit and began touching herself, fingers delighting her clit with soft rubs. Halting to shake off her insensibilities she drank another third of her bottle. Still laying back, her free hand now circled her areola, leading to the erect nipple on her humongous right breast. Teasing its sensitivity with a taunting middle finger, the action gave her goosebumps. Casual glances at the window found a steamy exhale over the outside pane with a heart drawn into it.

“Holy fuck! They’re out there still. So much for saying goodnight like gentlemen.” Setting her bottle on the tile next to the tub she climbs out and begins to pull the curtain down but hesitates. Remaining in view she stares at the heart fading away. In that moment she thought of Dixon. Maybe her own heart was fading away. It could just be the wine attacking her emotions.

With trembling hands, she unlocks the window at the top and lifts it up. There was no screen on the other side. Peering out into pitch blackness she whispers, “Anyone there?” Nothing. Had they left? Long stares into nothingness, strangely hopeful for at least a “Yes.” she wondered what might coax them into revealing themselves. The wine talking, she chuckled at her stupidity and placed her left breast through the windowsill. The window being small and narrow she couldn’t see around her own blockade. Feeling cool air on her damp breast, her nipple peaked as hard as it could grow. Suddenly, a hand groped her then drew back quickly. She too pulled away, holding a hand to her lips out of shock. “OH MY GOD!”

Tempted to slam the window shut she just stood lost in time. “I thought you said I’d earn your trust. You just grabbed my tit.” Her voice rallied in protest.

“That was their deal. Not mine!” A deeper more masculine voice that she hadn’t heard before now made her jump.

“Eight now? How many are there of you?”

“Can’t speak for them, I’m my own man.”

“WHAT? You’re not one of ... HOLY FUCK!”

“I saw what they’ve been doing. I’m no threat either, just out for a bit of late-night mischief.”

“With you saying you’re no threat as they said, you must have heard them. You know who the others are, don’t you?”

“Just a bunch of hoodies in the dark. I haven’t seen anything during the day but again I work mostly days. Been watching their sneaky asses awhile now. Your beautiful ass even longer.” In her heart she knew this man knew more than he admitted. Still, it made her nibble her lip knowing even an older man liked her big ass. Bubblebutt as she called it, but it truthfully wasn’t that gross. She maintained her shape in a pleasant delivery.

“This is crazy.” She gets brave lunging at her window and slamming it down. Curtain drawn she accidently knocks her candle into the tub extinguishing its flame. Prowling her bedroom, she swiftly closes windows down then pulls the curtains together. Every access of sight blinded she paces about in the nude and rants. “Why am I not calling 9-1-1? I’m being assaulted now.” In her distress she realized something, “How would I explain sticking my breast out the window to be fondled? The cops would say I antagonized it. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

For a good twenty minutes Christina fought with her sanity and settled into bed. Eight stalkers, lord knows how many more. With her nerves shot she falls fast asleep. The emptied wine bottle at least relaxed her. A restless few hours she read a paperback romance novel shockingly titled The Conquest of Christina and masturbated to it. Soon after a worthy climax she drifted right off.

As morning came Christina woke up and stretched, scratching her breasts after sleeping in the nude. This was the first time in over two months that she had done so. It was when Dixon was home, and they had made love the night before. The sheets felt lovely on her flesh. Sitting up on the edge of her mattress she recalled the night before. Fingers over her lips she sat wide eyed for what seemed like forever. Traumatized only in the fact that this kind of thing just doesn’t happen, especially to her.

Were there really two different sets of stalkers? Were they just messing with her head? Shaking things off the best that she could, Christina got up and went into her bathroom to pee. Finding her candle resting on the bottom of her tub she quickly plucked it out and sit it on the toilet tank. Daring to look outside the narrow window she found something unexpected. A post-it note was stuck to the glass. Opening the window carefully she reaches under and peels it away drawing her hand back inside.

“I apologize for being so bold. Please forgive me.” All she could do was sigh, “Everyone sure is trying to kill me with kindness. I just don’t know what to make of these guys.” Flushing her toilet, she sends the note into the sewer. She should have kept it to compare with the handwriting on the card. Too late now!

Moving to her bedroom to decide on her day’s outfit she realizes how warm her home was with the fans out of the windows and opens her bedroom curtains. On the outside of the window was a red rose taped to it with a note of its own. “Seriously Guys? It’s like you’re trying to win me over to ask me to the prom.” A prom she was never invited to in high school. She suddenly realizes the flower was between the screen and the glass. “How in the heck did they get the rose inside the screen? Oh! It wasn’t completely shut. Boy they really are like ninjas in the night. I never even heard the window. Shit! I didn’t lock the glass; they could have crawled right in while I was sleeping. I need to be more observative.” Retrieving the rose she unrolls the note tied to it held on to the stem by a bread twine.

“Sorry about the old guy. We saw him sneaking up on your bathroom. Hope he didn’t scare you.” She huffs her cheeks and scowls, “No more than you freaks. Well, a little bit more since he grabbed my tit. Why did I even do that? It only made him think I wanted that.” She winced then smelled the rose, “God, Christina! Are you that fucking lonely to risk your body to strangers?”

Forgoing getting dressed she takes the rose to the kitchen and peels the tape off before putting it in a watered vase. “GODDAMMIT! What am I doing?” She plucks it from the vase and hurls it into a garbage can near the front porch door. “Why would you keep anything they gave you? Maybe the money.” She sighs, “Their loss, my gain.” It was then she realized that she had even gone to bed and left the inside door connecting to the porch wide open. Luckily the outer screen door leading to the back yard was hooked. “MOTHERFUCK!” No, it wasn’t. Any of them could have walked right in on her and raped her.

“I’m still here, but I can’t keep being so careless.” Still careless, she was hooking the screen door while still nude. She had forgotten to get dressed in all the confusion. It was the light breeze on her body that gave her a clue. Realizing her stupidity, she strangely lingered there. “What no whistles?” She called out loudly. After nothing but birds singing, she turned away almost sad that they hadn’t. Moving to her living room she reopened the other curtains and lifted her windows. Then came two whistles. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Where are you guys?” She leaned down suddenly uncaring who saw her breasts.

“Everywhere. Good morning.”

“Morning to you too.” She covered her lower region at least.

“You’re not upset?”

“Not sure yet. I need to see you guys. I’m starting to think I’m talking to ghosts.”

“It’s better we just watch, and you just show.”

“Did you like the rose?” Voiced a second watcher.

“It’s in the garbage. But yes, it was beautiful. I ... may take it back out.”

“So are you.”

“Did you freaks go jerk off when you left last night?”

“Sure did. At least I did.”

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