The Storyteller Read Free Page B

opened her eyes to find herself staring at the ceiling. She was gasping for breath as the final throws of her magnificent orgasm were played out and she was alone as usual.
    She literally staggered from the bed toward the mirror, with her stomach still heaving and her lungs fighting for more air. More than anything else, she wanted to get toward the glass image and inspect the damage, but once more there was none. Her ass was not bruised or blistered as she anticipated There were no broken capillaries turning her crimson, but the usual untanned cheeks she was so familiar with greeted her.
    “Ow!”
    It was then she heard the noise, coming from the other side of the wall.
    “Ow!”
    Again she heard it. This time she was certain she heard a loud whap, like wood against flesh.
    More screams came, followed by the unmistakable sound of two people making a serenade with the bed springs. Someone next door was spanking and fucking.
    Though it was an obvious intrusion, she listened, stunned she was able to hear. She truly hoped that her own exploits, now and later, could likewise not be heard next door.
    Standing there naked, in her own bedroom, she felt the call to masturbate yet again, but she was spent. The sounds, however, were a distinct turn on and biting her lip, she had the compulsion to clap when everything subsided. The silence then, was all but unbearable.
    She shut off the bedroom light and waited naked in the darkness, now hearing only the sound of her own intense breathing. Her abdomen ached and she feared she was in no position to finger herself yet again, no matter how badly she wanted to, but she knew it would happen. If not, as she was too exasperated to call upon extraordinary strength, she knew she would at least dream, and in those moments the internal flooding would rise up again.
    It was then a new inspiration came to her. Instead of more finger action, she thought one better. She staked out the window, on the offbeat chance of getting a glimpse of the spanker and spankee, should they emerge or the recipient not be spending the night.
    She did not have to wait long, for she saw a young woman walking toward her car. Walking? Limping more like, while rubbing her ass through her pants all the while. She did however seem happy with her condition.
    “I wonder what it will feel like when she sits down in her car.” Blair questioned softly to herself, but there was no way to find out.
    With that thought in mind, she fell upon the bed and pulled herself naked beneath the sheet. She was too worn to get cleaned up and too tired to provoke herself to yet another exploding orgasm.
    She did not dream.
    The next day was Saturday, and it was two days before classes started, but she was still drained from her actions of the past evening. She decided, however, she would finally pay a visit to her neighbor, but not right away. She was hoping rather than ringing the door bell, she would encounter him offhand, so not to look too eager or curious.
    She made a pretense of coming and going to her car at varied times, so he would hear the door open and shut. This produced no such luck. She found herself constantly wanting to put on her bikini and parade her body by the pool, praying the mysterious stranger would be there and he would find her ass as spankable as that of his night caller. Again, as far as she could tell, there was no such luck. Going back to her place, she undressed, showered, and put on new street clothes, considering but turning down the temptation to finger herself yet again. It was time.
    Blair went next door and rang the bell.
    It took a moment before a middle aged man answered. He was neither homely nor handsome, but looked like every third man one would pass on the street. He seemed to be about 40.
    “I’m your new neighbor,” she announced and extended her hand. “I’m Blair.”
    “Darren Foster,” he responded as he took her hand in his. Instantly, she found herself thinking how hard that hand was.