The Girl Next Door
Copyright© 2012 by monkeyjoe3
Incest Sex Story: Introduction - The young girl next door wanted to learn about boys, but I thought she'd learn best from a man. This is the story of how she became part of the family, making me the luckiest guy in the world, and making life much more fun for my wife too...
My name is Matthew Williams, and I'm the luckiest man in the world. I'm typing this sitting in my office at home, having done as much work as I need to do today. My wife, Lisa, is due back from work in a couple of hours, and Leanne, our nanny, is out at the park with our two year old daughter. Once they're all home, we'll cook some dinner together, eat a very sociable meal, read some books with the little one and then put her to bed. And then Lisa, Leanne and I will open a bottle of wine, go upstairs, and spend the rest of the evening kissing, touching, stroking, sucking and fucking, before falling asleep in a cum-covered haze. Leanne will probably go back to her room at some point in the night, leaving me to wake up in the morning with my beautiful, naked wife, who'll want to fuck again, slowly and lovingly, before the new day starts properly.
I couldn't ask for a better life. How this one came about starts properly with meeting Leanne, the girl next door, but before we get there you might like to know a little history...
I met Lisa in 2003, when I was 26 and she was 22. I was living on my own in a studio flat in South London at the time, and starting to get reasonably successful as an illustrator and cartoonist, although at that stage I didn't work for myself and had to travel into central London to work every day. I was, I suppose, typical for a guy of my age making a good wage in a big city – I loved going out with friends, drank too much too often, smoked weed most days and took exstacy at the weekend, and usually had a girl or two available. I don't think I was particularly wild, but I was no angel either. Lisa, though, was really wild. She shared a house with two other girls and two guys, and worked as a gardener or park assistant for the local borough council. And, when she needed spare money for drink or drugs, she worked occasional nights as a stripper at a pole dancing club.
Of course, I didn't find out everything about her straight away. We hadn't even exchanged a word the summer Saturday night we met before we were kissing, after we found ourselves dancing together in a packed club, our bodies pressed together as we bounced to the beat. Our eyes met, and she grinned as she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled my face into hers. E does that sort of thing sometimes, and its a wonderful feeling when you connect in that way with a stranger. Usually, though, its just a moment, a shared moment, but this time there was something deeper. I can't explain it, because I don't believe in love at first sight, or soul mates or anything like that, but as I looked her up and down, taking in her cropped red-blonde hair, blue eyes, low cut black vest top not really hiding her impressive tits, short black skirt, black tights and bright red Dr Martens boots, I knew I'd be finding out a lot more about this girl.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, we kissed again, we found a quiet corner, we kissed again, my hand ended up between her legs, she unzipped my trousers, we were kicked out of the club by the bouncers before we could get much further, she ended up giving me a blowjob in the alley behind the club, I fingered her to an orgasm in the taxi back to my flat, we found out each others names, and fucked until it was daylight, when we fell asleep. When we woke up around Sunday lunchtime, we fucked again, and swapped phone numbers before she kissed me sweetly on the lips and waved goodbye. I'd had nights like that before, of course, and generally I had no intention of seeing the girl again. But despite the way we'd met, I knew I'd be introducing her to my parents before too long. And, for probably the first time in my life, I found it was me making the phone call to arrange to meet again. We saw each other at least once each weekend, and generally for one night of the week, for several months before I gradually realised that I had the first "proper" girlfriend I'd had since I was about 19. And although I sometimes hooked up with another girl, and I know Lisa slept with other guys, we grew closer and closer, sharing some wild nights but also some quiet nights in, some walks in the parks, some chill out time together. I was in love. When the tenancy on her room came up for renewal, Lisa gave it up and moved into my flat with me.
I'm not going to pretend everything was perfect, because it took some adjusting to for both of us – we had both got used to our own space, and the flat wasn't big enough for two independent minded people. But we were both smart enough to realise that we had a good thing going here, and made sacrifices and compromises. We went out together, but we went out separately too – although we knew each others friends and my friends had met hers we realised the value of independent friendships. And we came to agree that it was possible for either of us to sleep with someone else, as long as we told each other about it. This came about because occasionally, when she worked at the club, punters would offer her large amounts of cash to fuck her. Much as I didn't like the "idea" of my girlfriend being a prostitute, I did enjoy the holiday in Italy she paid for, and if I'm being totally honest, I got a thrill out of the fact that other guys found her desirable. I'd seen her in action in the club, and although I'm not normally a lover of pole dancing I found it intensely erotic to see my girl up there, my girl being looked at by all these guys, my girl showing herself off. And I knew there would come a time when I'd want to fuck someone else too, so I could hardly complain. Lisa enjoyed working at the club, but had made a decision that she'd only do it once every couple of weeks because she didn't want it to become routine, and, therefore, unenjoyable. It wasn't like she fucked someone every time she worked, either, but after a few months of living together I think we both realised that we enjoyed hearing about each others exploits with different people. Honesty, of course, is a key part of any grown up relationship.
So, for the next eighteen months or so that was what it was like. We loved each others company, we loved living together, we loved the sex, the glorious uninhibited sex! We had rows, but we patched things up, often with more glorious sex, and we got drunk and stoned with our friends. We worked hard, and played hard, and just occasionally we fucked other people. I got confident enough to leave my salaried job and go freelance, and although getting set up with a home office meant even less space at the flat and, in the short term, less income, we were able to cope. And then her mum fell ill.
Lisa had had an odd relationship with her mum, who I don't think realised the strength of spirit her daughter had and consequently didn't understand her as a person. By all accounts they'd hardly spoken to one another when Lisa was a teenager, but slowly they'd rebuilt the relationship, Lisa herself admitting that she'd needed to mature and move away from home for some time in order to appreciate the good things about her mum. As she was an only child whose father had left when she was small and hadn't been in contact since, I could understand that this was a relationship that was important to Lisa, even if I wasn't sure that everything was going to be rosy there. But Lisa was devastated when her mum told her she had terminal cancer. Her mum was quickly going to need some full time care, and Lisa wanted, no, "needed" to do this for her. She asked if we could sell the flat, and move in with her mum, giving up her job to become her carer. I wasn't sure about moving into her mum's house and giving up the carefree existence we had built up for ourselves, but I didn't want to split up with Lisa either, and the latter part of my soul won out. Lisa moved out, I sold the flat, and joined her.
Her mums house was bigger than our flat, and with a little planning I was even able to work from the small back bedroom. But it was a tough few months, with precious little good news as her health inexorably declined. Of course, there was no way that Lisa could "enjoy" the situation, but I know that she grew up lots in that time, I guess that confronted with mortality we both did. It had an effect on our relationship, of course it did – whilst we didn't really ever argue we didn't talk as much, and we didn't have sex as much, we just got our heads down and dealt with the short term situation. Eight months after her original diagnosis, and six months after I'd sold my flat, on a bleak December morning, Lisa's mum died.
The funeral, and the Christmas that followed shortly after, were a dreadful time for Lisa, but as we sat on the sofa on new years eve, waiting for 2005 to turn into 2006, she seemed more upbeat. I think she'd done her grieving over the whole period of the illness, and somehow the turn of the year was a release for her, a chance to start anew. We talked about plans, about us, for the first time in our lives discussing the future as a long term prospect rather than only really thinking about next weekend. Her mum had left us all she had, and Lisa wanted us to use it. She wanted to be with me, forever, she said, she wanted to get married and have babies with me. She wanted us to buy a house together, become a family. I was terrified and delighted at the same time, and when we went to bed in the early hours of the new year we made love in such a tender fashion I was almost in tears as I held her afterwards.
Lisa returned to work, and started studying for a garden design qualification. We were married in a simple registry office ceremony in March 2006, and had a fantastic party at the house afterwards. Lisa wanted some of her last memories of her mums house to be happy ones, and, filled as it was with all our friends celebrating a joyous occasion, it was. I'll never forget finally taking her to bed that night to find she'd shaved her pussy for the first time, and I'll never forget several of our friends bursting into our room as we fucked the morning after either – the look of rapture on Lisa's face as she knelt over me, sliding up and down my cock as half a dozen people looked on cheering was an incredible picture. We started looking for a new house the week after.
On her 25th birthday in April 2006, Lisa treated me to our first threesome together. I say treated me, because getting to fuck two beautiful strippers was definitely a treat, but it was as much a delight for her as well. Lisa hadn't ever described herself as bisexual before, although I knew she'd experienced sex with at least three women in the past, so I was surprised when she told me what she was planning. But of course, I was happy to go through with it! And Anna, a Slovakian girl who she'd met at the pole dancing club, was beautiful. Watching the pleasure on Lisa's face as Anna skilfully sucked her still bald pussy, and sliding my cock into Lisa's cunt from behind as she brought Anna to orgasm with her tongue were some of the highlights of my life. And that June, to celebrate the sale of her mums house going through, and our purchase of a four bedroom terraced house in a nice part of Clapham, which we could never have dreamed about affording without her mum's legacy, being agreed, I got to finally see her fuck another man. We found him together, on the internet, and after a couple of drinks to get to know each other, went back to her mums. Steve and I slowly undressed Lisa, teasing her by sucking her hard nipples and stroking her thighs, before I bent between her legs to lick her pussy, which was already dribbling wet, and she sucked his good sized prick into her mouth. We swapped places, and as she licked my cock I watched him ease his into her pussy. There was no jealousy, it was just great to see her so turned on, so wanton – this was the Lisa I'd first met and fallen in love with again. Her gasps as he filled her with his spunk meant so much to me, and when he rolled off and I took my turn in her sopping cunt I'd never felt her hold onto me so tightly, never felt her love for me as strongly.
On a Friday in late July 2006 we said goodbye to her mums old house and moved into the one in which I'm typing this at the moment. And the following evening, dressed in sweaty and paint stained clothes and carrying a takeaway pizza back to the house, I first saw the girl next door. And that's where the story really starts...