My day began with breakfast and ended with me jerking off in the house of a strange neighbor I barely knew. 

How did that happen? I have no idea. Let’s go over it. 

I like to walk. It’s good exercise. Walking around the neighborhood, throw on a good podcast, get barked at by dogs in yards. An all-around good time. Probably sounds boring to some people, and maybe it is. I like boring sometimes. 

And then I saw her. 

And then my life changed.

Most people looking at her would think she seemed fairly normal: average height, average weight, cute, dirty blonde hair. Normal. But those people weren’t looking close enough and didn’t know her like I ended up getting to know her. 

It all started one Saturday afternoon as I was walking the edge of the neighborhood. Beautiful day, blue sky, warm sun and no humidity. A perfect, early summer day. Up ahead on the sidewalk, I noticed another person walking toward me. I’m a bit of an introvert, okay, maybe a big one, so sometimes I like to cross to the other side of the street when I’m walking, so I can avoid the awkward pleasantries.

I began to cross the street. 

And so did the other person. 

First time that’s happened. I began to cross back again and so did she. Huh? This began an awkward feedback of us mirroring each other’s movements back and forth until we had walked close enough to each other that it no longer mattered.

“Sorry,” I offered with an embarrassed, shy glance at her face. I could tell she was staring right at me, and I thought she might be mad or something, but she wasn’t. 

“It’s okay, ya weirdo,” she offered. I shyly glanced at her face again, nervously wanting to resume my walk and be moving, and that’s when I noticed something on her face. There were some streaks of shiny wetness, and it was hard to tell what they were without outright staring. No way I was about to look this woman straight in the face and stare at her. The familiar flush of embarrassment started creeping up my neck into my face, so I started walking with a quick, “Bye.”

I tried to walk as fast as I could without becoming a weirdo speedwalker, but only made it a few feet before hearing, “Good talk, let’s do it again sometime!” yelled from behind me.

As the omniscient third-party narrator, I’ll take over from here. Putting that bit of weirdness behind him, the following day he took his walk at his normal time. He changed up the route a bit, desperate to make sure there wasn’t another unscheduled run-in like yesterday. 

Lost in a podcast, he sees a person far ahead. “No problem,” he thinks, he’ll just turn up this street instead. Arriving at the next intersection, the person had gotten closer. “How did they get there so quick, did they run? There’s no way that’s the girl from yesterday, right?”

Unwilling to take that chance, he kept walking straight so their paths wouldn’t cross. Throwing a glance behind him, he saw the person catching up, across the street. “Shit, that’s definitely her. What is going on?”

They both arrived at the stop sign on opposite sides of the street at the same time, pausing, casting a glance each other’s way. 

There was no traffic. 

He had planned to keep going this way, but avoiding human contact and whatever was going on here overrode that decision. He turned away from her and started walking.

With his earbuds in, he didn’t hear her running up behind him, and it was a complete shock when one of his earbuds magically came out of his ear.

“Hey weirdo, you running from me?” the girl leered at him with a smile.

He couldn’t avoid eye contact with her this time. “Uhhhh, no, just taking a walk.” He was trying not to act weird, but trying not to act weird usually results in acting weird. This strange woman, about his same age, was standing in front of him in shorts and a ratty sweater hanging off one of her shoulders. Again, he noticed some strange, unexplained shiny liquid, this time on her legs above the knee, and some faint streaks on her neck and bare shoulder.

“So what’s up? We keep running into each other, maybe we should have an actual conversation. Whatcha listenin’ to?” He replies with the name of the obscure podcast. “Cool! Mind if I join ya?”

“On my walk? Uhhh, sure.” She talked, he listened. She definitely had dork credentials, in a good way. He wasn’t sure what half the stuff was that she was talking about. 

“Oh, wow. This is my house,” she said. “I lost track of where we were at. Do you wanna come in?”

WUT. His brain didn’t understand this, at all. This stranger, this woman, just coming up to him, chatting him up, and now offering him to come inside her house? No, something was definitely weird going on here.

“Ummm, I can’t right now.”

“Oh,” she responds disappointedly. “You’re busy?” she teases. “Yeah, I’m not ready to go in yet either, let’s keep walking.”

It’s awkward for a moment, but their walk resumes and she begins talking. This time, it’s Star Wars. 

“I just felt like Jar-jar was underutilized, ya know? Like, there’s a theory, on the internet, that Jar-jar was actually supposed to be a Sith Lord, like a big secret bad guy, but that Lucas chickened out and changed it once the first movie came out. Isn’t that nuts?”

“Definitely nuts,” was all he could offer. He wasn’t trying to be short with her, he was actually kind of enjoying the company of this strange woman who had accosted him. It was just so weird though.

As his comfort level grew with this person, whose name he didn’t even know yet, he started to feel like he should ask or tell her about the stuff on her. Like, clearly she didn’t know about it and it couldn’t be there on purpose. But how to broach that subject….

He stops and turns to her, “Ummm, I noticed you’ve got some stuff on you, and I didn’t know if you knew or not.”

“What, where?” as she began to look. He pointed, there and there, and she squinted, before doubling over at the waist with a laugh. “Oh my god. I’m such a dummy. That’s my fake cum lube.”

W U T

Fake who-za-whatsit? He had to have misheard.

“Yeah, sometimes when I’m gooning out I like to blast a few loads of this fake cum stuff on me, helps me get off harder.” 

THE FUCK IS GOING ON

His face is now beet red, and he’s studying the sidewalk to see if there might be a secret hatch or escape route in it he can use.

“Oh my god, you should see your face right now. You’re not a total prude, are you?” He tries looking up, to meet her eyes, but only gets as far as her chest, which he notices has two very prominently pierced nipples proudly peeking through it. His body is surging with nervous energy. Fight or flight. 

“Uhhhh, no,” he tries to state, but it comes out sounding more like a question. “Good,” she replies, and she starts walking again assuming he is too.

His brain is telling him to not move, to let her walk away, or to turn around and run from this woman. Clearly, something is the matter with her, but he doesn’t know her well enough to know what. As he’s still standing there, she turns around to say, “You cumming or what?” His feet decide, and he awkwardly shuffle runs back up to join her. 

“Ya weirdo,” she teases him. They continue their walk through the neighborhood, him worried his embarrassment will turn him into a tomato again, and her seemingly trying to embarrass him and see it happen. Eventually, they come back around to her house. 

She stops. He stops. 

She repeats her question from earlier, “So, now do you wanna come in?” The gerbil wheel in his brain starts spinning as several unconscious calculations are being performed, unbeknownst to him. He stands there like an idiot not responding for a few moments while the results are tabulated. Ding! An answer is ready, and gets spit out by his ticker tape tongue.

“Uhhhh, sure,” he says for the hundredth time, his delivery still making it unclear if it’s a statement or question.

“Good,” she says and snatches his hand. 

Yanking him through the front door by his sweating hand, he’s assaulted by the visual and olfactory equivalent of shock and awe. His eyes can’t stop darting from one thing to the next. It was a normal enough home, but the decor, how to describe it. Depraved? Lewd? Obscene?

All manner of sexual imagery was on display. Small murals were on the walls consisting primarily of pornographic images. Some appeared to be anime characters with exaggerated genitals, furry creatures performing unspeakable acts (what is Pikachu doing with that Ditto?), and real humans doing things that would make a truck driver blush. 

Then there was the smell, or rather, aroma. He had no idea what it was, but he imagined it might smell like the den of an animal that was hibernating. Musky, would be one word for it. Having come from the outside fresh air into this all-encompassing fog made it feel like stepping onto the moon or some distant world. It wasn’t a bad smell, per se, but it was strong.

“So, this is my place,” she motioned around in a twirling fashion. “How ya like it?” she asked in an adorable gremlin-like fashion, with a tilt of her head. 

“Uhhhh,” he began, unable to fashion a coherent response. “You’re right,” she interjected, “you haven’t even seen the whole place yet. Come on, I’ll give ya a tour.” She grabbed his sweaty palm again, yanking him forward. 

They had just been in the living room. There was a TV, couch, large cushioned chair, some stacks of magazines, and stuff on all the tables. She was not the most fastidious person on Earth. Next on the tour was the kitchen, which was also a bit of a mess. 

Judging from the empty boxes on the counter, quick and simple microwave meals were her primary source of sustenance. 

Next, she quickly pointed out the bathroom, and I peeked my head in. On top of the toilet tank in plain view was a vibrator and bottle of clear liquid. Hmmm.

Underwear and other clothes were strewn on or near the clothes hamper. The partly open lid and overflowing laundry made the clothes hamper look like some kind of horrible clothes-eating monster, that she had satiated with the sheer volume of dirty clothing she had stuffed in it.

She did not seem at all concerned about how this all looked. 

Yanking me forward, impatient to give the rest of the tour, we moved deeper still into her lair. It seemed as though the aroma in the house was getting stronger the further we went. Like we were moving toward a more potent source of it. 

With a shove of her hand, she pushed open the final door, a fresh waft of musk entering his nose. “Here it is, my bedroom!” she presented proudly with one arm. “Or as I like to call it, my Goon Cave.”  Only she said it more like, “GooOOoooNNNnnn Cave” complete with theatrical hand gestures to emphasize the spookiness of it. 

He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by “Goon Cave,” but he would soon be finding out. The first two things he noticed were her bed and computer desk. The bed was unmade, with cute lavender sheets strewn about and a comforter with some kind of neat, abstract water color pattern. Socks, shirts, and other articles of clothing were strewn over the headboard and foot of the bed. 

The computer desk was the next largest object in the room. She had what looked like some kind of gamer chair parked by the desk, a large, curved monitor on top of it, with the computer itself glowing nearby. She eagerly parked her butt in the chair before grabbing the mouse and started clicking. I looked for a good spot on the bed to sit down, taking everything in.

And then…….there was everything else. Two of the four walls were plastered with the same types of pornographic images on the living room walls. To call them unadulterated filth would be an understatement. Several plush animals were grouped together, some dildo-shaped objects were being proudly displayed on a small shelf, more vibrators, of course, and on the desk several bottles of what appeared to be lube. And now that he looked more closely, it appeared the monitor had something over it, like Saran wrap.

“Why the hell would the monitor be Saran wrapped?” he thought to himself.

Loud moaning noises interrupted his wandering eyes. “What the fuck?” She was sat in her gamer chair, back turned to him and his first instinct was that it had to be her moaning. His face returned to its default state of bright embarrassment. 

He froze. 

What the hell was she doing? Clearly, this person, this woman, was not alright. He tried peeking around the chair, as it currently blocked his view of the monitor, but as he did this, she spun around first.

This moment would be burned into his mind forever. Etched in stone. Frozen in carbonite. Like raccoon paw prints in fresh concrete. 

She turned toward him in, her legs up on the chair on either side of her, almost in a sitting squat. Next, he noticed what he should have noticed first, that her shorts and underwear were off. Lastly and most importantly, she was holding a sleek and slender vibrator in one hand, the business end of which appeared to be aimed squarely at her lady parts. 

“What are ya doing? Get yer pants off and start gooning with me, ya creep!” she casually demanded.

Again, he froze, like a deer in headlights. He stood there, porn playing loudly on the monitor in front of him, this woman massaging her clit in full view. His brain had stopped. He was clearly dying and this was a hallucination of an oxygen-starved brain.

Reality hit him square in the chest in the form of a half-empty bottle of lube. “Jork or jork not, there is no try,” she said in what he thought might have been a passable Yoda voice.

Looking down at the lube bottle in his hands, he made his choice. In for a penny, in for a pound. 

Like pounding his dick. 

With his hand.

He found a spot on her bed and sat down. She had moved her chair slightly to give him a view of the monitor and she had spun back around. Unbuttoning his pants, he questioned his life choices. How had he arrived at this moment? Looking down, he discovered his cock did not have the same concerns.

There were many options in the room for him to choose to masturbate to. From the obscenities plastered on the wall, the oil and spit lubricated sex on display on her monitor, or the strange woman I barely knew before today now masturbating in front of me. 

He chose all of the above. 

Grabbing the half empty bottle of lube she threw at him, he squeezed a small amount from the bottle labeled Cum Lube and started greasing up his dick in a familiar fashion, as he was a shy, lonely, introvert who didn’t get out much. Especially not like this.

As he’s trying to focus on one particular picture on the wall, which appears to be some kind of cute animated pony getting pounded by another cute little pony, she spins around toward him, startling him.

“Yeaaah! Thatta boy. Jork it real good,” vibrator still parked in the same spot. He can’t help but stare at her.

As he approaches his orgasm, and becomes increasingly aware again of where he is, what he’s doing, and who he’s doing it in front of, his face becomes flush with embarrassment. 

“Are you about to blow?” she asks, without a hint of modesty. “Do it on me! Blow it on my chest!” she says, before pulling her sweater down to expose her modest breasts. 

He hesitates for a moment, before quickly scrambling off the bed as his window to get there in time is quickly closing. 

He awkwardly scrambles over and barely get’s there in time before hitting her square in the chest with a sloppy bullseye. “Nice!” she exclaims, before she rubbing starts spreading it on her chest. 

“Been a while since I had a real one. I don’t seem to meet many guys that get all this,” motioning her arm around. “Half of them think it’s creepy, and the other half just want to fuck me once and get out. You don’t seem like that.” She said, continuing to masturbate, spreading his cum equally over her tits with the other hand.

He stood there listening, with his rapidly shrinking dick in his hand, wondering again what the fuck he was doing. “Hey silly, want to get me some water? All this jorking it is getting me thirsty,” she asked very politely and matter-of-factly. 

Still dumbstruck by current events and the orgasm he just had, he stood there a moment too long before stupidly muttering, “Uhhhhh, yeah. Sure.” 

“Thanks,” she replied, before turning back to the computer screen. He walked out of the room, still processing what was going on. Turning the water on at the kitchen sink, he squirted some soap onto his hands, or at least he hoped it was soap and not a lube dispenser, before turning the hot water on. Bubbles, thank god. Not everything in here was perverted. Seeing no paper towels, he wiped his hands on his pants. 

Now, to find a glass. After going through several cupboards with no luck, he looked back to the sink and realized they were all probably dirty and in front of him. Hmmm, didn’t expect to be doing dishes today for a pervert neighbor when I woke up this morning, but here he was. Once he got started, he just kept washing until the sink was empty, because it seemed like she had nothing clean, at all. 

Back turned, he heard “Hey, whatcha doin in here? How long’s it take to get a water?” in a mocking voice. He turned to see his neighbor behind him, naked from the waist down, vibrator still pressed to her clit with one hand, and her partially exposed chest still glistening.

“Uhhhhh,” he said, feeling the familiar flush in his face and losing most of his vocabulary. She walked up beside him, his naked masturbating neighbor, grabbed a clean glass out of the dishrack, filled it, drained it, filled it again, then walked over to the fridge. 

“Thanks for doing the dishes. You didn’t have to,” she said from the fridge. He was staring at her ass. She had a perfect little bubble butt. Staring at it stirred something in him. His cock seemed to be knocking at the door of his trousers, begging to be let out. He continued staring as she scanned through the fridge, bending and moving slightly, her cheeks rearranging themselves into slightly new works of art each time. He could stare at this ass all day. This goon cave was starting to get to him.

Turning around holding a sandwich with a bite taken out of it, she extended it to him, “Want some?”

“Uhhhhhh, no thanks.” He needed to learn some new words.

She shrugged, closing the fridge door. “Come on,” she said, shrugging toward her room as she walked off, sandwich in one hand, vibrator still in the exact same place it had been. He looked around for a moment, before following. She was already back in her chair, watching a few other videos. She currently had two up side by side on the monitor. One appeared to be a pokemon getting fucked by another pokemon (although he couldn’t be sure they were pokemon, as he was only familiar with pokemon from the original game). The other video appeared to be close-ups of uncut dicks cumming. Hmmmm. 

This whole time he’d been here, he hadn’t really heard her moan that loudly. She just seemed locked in. She had to have orgasmed by now. No way she could have lasted this long doing THAT, while watching THOSE. As he sat on the bed, watching the monitor and back of the chair, she turned around to him, sandwich now gone, “You done jorking it?” she tactfully asked.

How was it that almost every sentence out of this woman’s mouth left him dumbstruck and mute. Maybe it was the fact that approximately fifty percent of the things she had said to him were when she had been masturbating in front of him. 

“Uhhhhh…..I dunno. I mean, I came.” He noticed the small bucking of her hips and he studied her more closely.

“One pump chump, huh? Don’t worry, I’m just teasing. Lemme finish up this goon session real quick. Stay there.” Turning back to the screen, he saw she had opened up a new video. It was some kind of sex party, European by the look of it. Lots of people fucking on couches, fucking next to kitchen counters, fucking by fondue pots, that kind of thing. But she fast forwarded to a part, and began to narrate why. “I love this part,” she offered. “This girl is out of her mind. Look at her face, look at that tongue sticking out. Oh my god, the way she tries to seduce that other girl, as she’s being fucked. I wish that was me. Just a horny ass chick, gettin it.” Her tone became more aggressive as she continued, her body moving more wildly.

“Just to be in a room with people fucking, like animals, cum and juices everywhere. Wet slapping noise and sluts moaning around me. It fucking turns me on SO MUCH.” Her hips moving more wildly against the vibrator. He worried she might fall out of the chair or tip it over. This continued for a few more minutes, building and building, her getting slightly more vocal, her chair bucking more.

He felt his cock grow harder, hearing her, seeing the video, knowing she could explode at any moment. 

She rewound back to her favorite spot in the video, now breathing heavier. “That’s it, almost there. Fuck. Fuck. Mmmmmmm, yeah. Uhhhhuhh, uhuh, uuuuuuhhhhhhh. FUCK!” The final punctuation on her climax was a powerful stream of squirt being ejected from her directly at her computer monitor, hitting it, and splashing everywhere.

So that’s what the Saran wrap was for. 

Seeing this was too much for our mostly mute protagonist, and his throbbing cock said “Mazel tov!” before letting loose an encore of creaminess in his boxers. He had to catch my breath even though he was sitting still.

As he sat there on her bed, head still hazy from my second orgasm, she was finally composed enough and turned around in her chair, laughing, “Fuck that was fun.” Her hands lay by her side, the vibrator since dropped to the floor, chair wet, pussy fully exposed, a stupid grin on her face.

“Are you okay?” she asked, seeing something in his eyes that concerned her.

“Yeah. I just need to use the bathroom,” before getting up quickly and waddling to the bathroom, not wanting to let liquids drip too far. 

Closing the bathroom door, he looked in the mirror and gave himself an appraising, soul searching stare, before splashing water on his face. The underwear was a mess, he thought, peeling them off with his pants. He tried to wipe the unabsorbed cum out with some toilet paper. As he was doing this, the door burst open and his neighbor walked in, still bottomless, as was he now. 

“Woah, whatcha doing there? Did you get another squirt off?” she said looking at his boxers. 

“Uhhh, yeah,” he managed to get out. 

“Nice! Was it when I squirted?” He could only shake his head yes. “You perv,” she sweetly teased before a friendly bump into his shoulders. “I just needed to get some TP to clean some of that squirt up. Shit went everywhere. Total splashzone,” she said, unrolling a pile of paper into her hands. “I’ll let you finish up, Mr. Cumshorts.” 

She left again, returning presumably to the bedroom or kitchen, as he finished dabbing his boxers before getting dressed. Stepping back out into the hallway, he crept back toward her bedroom to find her laying in bed, snuggling some kind of body pillow with an anime character on it. His outdated anime knowledge couldn’t identify what anime character it was.

“Oh hey, cummy boy. I like to snuggle with my ‘boyfriend’ after a good goon sesh,” she said, as her still bottomless legs were wrapped around the pillow, spoonin her fluffy dude. “Wanna join?”

Another fight or flight moment. This had already been the weirdest, most fucked up thing he had ever done or likely would ever do. He had followed a stranger home, a cute stranger mind you, but a stranger nonetheless. He had then watched her masturbate, masturbated with her, done her dishes, watched her squirt a geyser at her computer monitor, which then made him cum again in his boxers. And now she was asking if he wanted to cuddle. 

Sure, why the fuck not?

He sat down on the edge of the bed, before clumsily scooting back to her. She was big spooning the body pillow and had her arms stretched out toward him, “Gimme, gimme, gimme,” she parroted. Once he was close enough, she swallowed him into her clutches, wrapping her legs and arms around both the and him. “Now I have TWO boyfriends,” she joked, or at least he thought she might be joking. 

The pillow compressed between them as she drew him closer and tighter. As weird as this shit had been, it was also very nice. His personality being what it was, he didn’t meet many new people, and certainly did do anything even remotely like this almost ever. Like, ever ever. But he was currently being snuggled by this half-naked and horny bubble butt weirdo, in a room plastered in the most explicit pornography he’d seen, in her bed that smelled vaguely of bubblegum body spray, shampoo, and very heavily of sex. 

Time felt like it had frozen, neither of them saying anything. Or maybe that was all in his head. The silence was broken by her voice just inches behind him, “Hey weirdo, give me your phone.”

He thought about it for a moment, giving this still-a-stranger his phone. Why did she want it? 

Just going along had gotten him this far, so he reached into his pants, unlocked it, and handed it back. He wondered if she had washed her hands at all during all of this.

“OOoooh, nice.” He started to get nervous about what she was doing back there. What kind of havoc she could be wreaking. “Damn, you got some freaky ass porn on this thing!” she exclaimed. He turned his head slightly, panicking, but also realizing that most of his freaky ass porn was in a locked folder that she couldn’t access. Then, a laugh from her, “Ya perv, I’m just joking,” as she handed it back to him.

He looked at the screen, and his contacts were opened. On the page was a contact for “Gooner Girl (Natalie).” Natalie the Gooner Girl. My neighbor. Possibly my girlfriend now. What the fuck. 

A hand appeared in front of him, holding a phone with a cracked screen. “Here, your turn.” He carefully took it from her hand, worried what he might find on it if he snooped, but too nervous to. Typing in his info, he handed it back to her, followed by a laugh that tickled his neck.

“You goon. You put it in as Cumshorts? Bwahahaha haha, ya freak” she cackled. “Cumshorts (Adam). Nice to meetcha, Adam Cumshorts.”