I already told a story with a neighbour when I was breastfeeding my baby. I also told about an affair with a younger neighbout after I moved from the big city to a small town, and I said there was some plot twist some time later, which I never posted. Well, now is the perfect time for this.

This happened about a year after my fling with the neigbour (actually, the neighbour's son, who didn't live with his father but came to visit every now and then). I wasn't very fond of him (the father, my neighbour). He’s loud, he’s shameless, strutting his ego around like it’s some kind of prize, thinking all eyes are on him. Now that I write it, that is so weirdly similar to what happened with Richard, the one I told when I was breastfeeding... I might have a tendency to end up hooking with men I disliked in the beginning lol. I was saying, I wasn't fond of him as I saw him as a womanizer, always bragging with my husband about his adventures and how he fucked this woman and the other, and the other, making awful comparisons, etc (things I also do and say, but in the intimacy of my affairs while getting a nice and hard fuck, when I am not totally myself. Instead, he was totally his own self when saying such things, and he didn't even cared there was another woman, me, around). But hubby became friends with him. I think he kind of showed my husband what it was like to be a man that way, and my husband, unable to behave like that himself (for my own good, I must say) felt the neighbour was like an alter-ego that dared what he didn't. Anyway, not my bread and sugar, I just disliked him, but had to put up with him around more often than not. I swear to God I didn't fantasize with him not even once.

Sometimes, I got the feeling that his son had told him everything we did. I mean, as they say, such father such son (or something like that). I could feel it in the way he gazed me, he hugged me a little longer than expected when saying hello or goodbye (BTW, who hugs their neighbour every day?). But that only made me even more uncomfortable around him. But fate has its own ways. Hubby needed a major surgery done in the big city, so far away, and I was left alone at home with our daughter. That allowed me for some days without having to face him, and that was great. But there was a night when the (un)expected happened. There was a lot next to ours, with half-built abandoned houses. That night, my daughter had invited a friend of hers for a sleepover, so I was in charge of 2 little girls instead of my usual only child. Around midnight, when the girls were at my daughter's bedroom playing, I was already in bed with my nightie watching Netflix, when loud, strange noises coming from the lot frigthened the hell out of me. Broken glasses. Smashes. What the heck was going on? I felt really scared, so I called my husband. He wasn't as comforting as I expected him to be. He just said he was far away, he couldn't do anything about it, what did I expect him to do? Well, as a matter of fact, I just needed him to tell everything was gonna be alrigth, but he didn't. I get it, he was in the middle of pre-surgery studies, so he had his own issues. The solution he gave me was the worst he could have done.

-Why don't you call Charles? You know he loves being the hero, just call him and he'll check it out for us.

The timing couldn’t have been worse, nor could the stakes be any higher. I was alone, on edge, and the only voice of “reason” you had at that moment throwed me to the wolves. This was the very last thing I wanted: to call him, to invite him over, even under these circumstances. But what choice did I have? So, reluctantly, you touched his name on my husband's message and called him.

He said he wasn't home, but would be in a rush.

-I'm kinda busy now, but a woman's call is a woman's call, you know. Don't panic, I'll head over there right away.- he said, and hang up without waiting for an acknowledgement. His manners.

I must say he really drove fast if he wasn't already here at his house, because it was less than 15 minutes until he was knocking on my door. Town is small, but he must've left immediately. I have to say I was thankful he did anyway, don't get me wrong.

-Stay inside, I've got to take care of something- I told the girls, trying not to worry them. You know how little girls could get if they see the grown-up in charge nervous. So I closed their bedroom door and opened the house door to Charles. He did stare at me. Self-assured, recklessly. I noticed that, but I had to say I didn't care. I just needed to feel safe. Noises had stopped a couple of minutes ago, but I was nervous nonetheless.

-So, where are the noises?- he asked

His confidence was dripping off him. The way he marched in, fully aware that I was vulnerable, that I needed him in this moment... he knew he held all the power and I had no choice but to let him be the hero. It felt like a reminder that he was the one who showed up, that he was the one stepping up when my own husband couldn’t be there for me. It was as if he wanted to make sure I felt the weight of that. And I did. But again, I needed him, I needed protection, security, and there was noone but him around.

I told him they were coming from the half-built houses on the lot next to mine. There was no fence between our lot and the other one, we had never built it as it was empty.

-Just stay here, darling - he said, letting his hand on my shoulder for a bit too long. -I'll go take a look, you stay safe.

He loved that Rambo style, and I was visibly shaking. I was really afraid, so his touch didn't feel wrong at all. I must admit it was comforting. I almost hugged him and plead him to stay, but I refrained at the last moment. He went to the lot and I went back in to wait for him. Should I have called the police instead? Should I just locked myself up? I didn't know, I was too scared to think properly. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a can of beer. Weird, I never drink alcohol. But I opened it and it felt so refreshing. I took another long sip and the can was gone. Just like that. I waited for what it seemed like an eternity, when I finally saw him coming back. I was relieved and happy he was back. Yeah, for the first time ever, his presence made me feel happy. I opened the door for him before he could knock and let him in.

-So?- I asked.

He was just silent, making me wonder.

-You should come see this- he said at last.

I hated it. That hesitation he took, that pause, like he was savoring the way he knew he had me hanging on his words. He knew exactly what he was doing, letting the suspense drag out just long enough to feel it in my chest. He knew how shaken I was, and he also knew I’d follow, couldn’t resist the pull of his confidence, couldn’t let him be the one who faced it alone without knowing what he’d found. After all, I'm just a woman.

I had the beer buzzing just faintly, making everything feel a little bolder, a little more daring. It was almost like he’d planned it—knowing that, alone and on edge, I’d reach for something to ease the tension, but that would leave me just a little bit more open, a little more vulnerable.

We stepped out into the night. He walked ahead, but every few steps, he’d glance back, as if making sure I was close, each look a little softer, like he was feeling the weight of what he’d drawn me into. And I just followed, feeling the fear grow as I approached the half-built houses.

It was winter, cold as fuck. I hadn't thought about getting some more clothes on, so he cold air on my thin nightie made my nipples so tight and visible through the white cloth. It was not intentional on me. I know I had done such tease lots of times, but not that night. But coldness, nervousness and that overwhelming feeling of being on the edge of a deadly finding, mixed with the beer in my head, made my mind buzz.

Finally, in the back of one of the half-built houses, shattered glass and debris lay scattered on the ground.

-Look*.-* he whispered, as if it was a secret.

-What? Is... Do you think there's someone in? Let's call the police!- I stuttered.

-Don't worry, how on Earth would I make you come here if it was dangerous? I already looked inside. There had been, but it's safe now. Here, get in with me.- he offered me his hand and we both came in.

The half-built house was destroyed. Just for the fun of it, some gang had broken inside and wrecked everything. Charles didn't let my hand go.

-Let's go home, I'm freezing- I said. I wanted to go home, but I didn't want to be alone in there. What if they came back? What if they decided to break into my house instead of the empty lot? I was terrified. The sole thought of it made me shiver, and Charles noticed. He was staring at me, and he moved closer to hug me. That inevitable moment when his arms wrapped around me, strong and steady, pulling me close as if he were the one shielding me from the cold—and maybe, in that instant, he truly was.

He knew exactly what he was doing, holding me just a little too tightly, letting me feel his warmth as I stood there in that desolate, abandoned shell of a house. My thin nightie (the white one I had posted a couple of pics with), nearly translucent in places, was pressed against him, every inch of my body taut from both the winter chill and the overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

It was instinctual, primal almost. I let myself melt into it, my head resting against him, feeling that weird comfort in his touch. It was the first time I had ever felt anything for him beyond annoyance or resentment, but now he was something different—a protector, a presence that grounded me.

-You’re safe with me.- he murmured close to my ear. His hand, still gripping mine, tightened just slightly as if to say he wouldn’t let go. And for that moment, I didn’t resist. I let him hold me.

-I’ll walk you back.- he said, finally breaking the silence. But he didn’t let go, didn’t make a move to leave, his hands staying on me.

-You are safe with me- he repeated, looking at my eyes. -I'll keep you safe tonight.

He caressed my cheek, arranging my hair behind my ear.

-There's nothing to worry, you are with me- he said in my ear, so softly I could barely hear it.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. For once, I felt lost. I wasn't in control. I have given him the full control of the situation and I couldn't find the will to recover it. Instead, I stayed with my head on his shoulder.

-Thank you- was all I could mutter, and before I knew it, we were kissing.

It was raw. His lips were rough, unapologetic, taking what they wanted, and I let them. I don't know if it was gratitude, the adrenaline from fear, the beer, but whatever it was, I couldn’t resist. His hand went to my waist and down below, to my ass, grabbing it firmly as if claiming me.

The cold was gone, replaced by the heat building between us. His hands pulling me against him from my ass as if he could never be close enough. I could feel his hardness pressed against me. He deepened the kiss, his breath warm, tasting faintly of cigarettes, and it was driving me crazy. I needed a man, and he was there. I didn’t care about anything else in that moment.

-Let's go home- he said.

In that moment, I remembered the kids.

-I can't, my daughter is alone in my house with a friend, and-

-Your place it is then- he interrupted, and let go of me, walking out of the house without looking back. I followed him as in trance, unable to resist or deny. I opened my house door and we entered. He didn't care to see if the kids were out of sight or just in front of us. The moment that door clicked shut, he was on me again, his hands in my hair, his lips fierce and demanding, like he’d been holding back for far too long. TBH, I barely registered the thought of the kids in the other room; everything else fell away under the intensity of his kiss. His touch was rough, urgent, pressing me against the wall next to the door. I could feel his breath, cigarettes, alcohol, everything getting mixed inside our mouths. He didn’t pause, he didn’t give me a second to catch my breath, pressing kisses along my neck, my shoulders, my lips. His hands found the edge of my nightie, lifting it so I could feel his fingers brush against your bare skin.

-The kids- I started, and he interrupted me again.

-Then take me to your bedroom- somehow he managed to say it without stopping the kisses while still being able to take my nightie off and leave me completely naked in the middle of the living room. Thankfully, my daughter and her friend were obedient girls and stood inside her bedroom, or it would have been an image difficult to forget for them. I hurried with Charles to my master bedroom and shut the door. I was urged, but not only for hiding from the kids. At that moment, I definitely wanted to be just another one of his "babes", his "hungry bitches", as he would call women every time he spoke of them.

As soon as we were locked in, it was like unleashing something primal between us both. His hands were everywhere, rough and possessive, making me feel exactly like one of those women he always boasted about—the kind who wanted, no, needed him without hesitation or apology. His touch was a heady mix of dominance and urgency, stripping away every last pretense of restraint.

My own hands responded in kind, hungry to feel his skin. The roughness, the way he grabbed me, the way he wasn’t careful, it all fed something in me, something I needed that night. I wanted to be consumed, to surrender to the moment.

He pushed me down onto the bed, his eyes dark and filled with that smug, hungry look I’d always despised—until that night. That night, it thrilled me. I was just one of his many, one of those “hungry bitches” he’d bragged about, but instead of hating it, I found it way too hot to know I would be included whenever he talks about his bitches.

-I could see it in your eyes the moment I saw you. You're unsatisfied. There's no way that stupid could take proper care of such a hottie- he said already on top of me, while I unbuttoned his jeans, craving for him to take me. I was already naked from the living room. His words were so harsh and rude. He was about to take me in my own bed, and he held no respect for his friend, my husband. The way he spoke—disdainful, dismissive of my husband—should have made me pull back, should have made me protest, but instead, it made me want him more.

-Now you'll know a real man- he muttered as he finally took me. -Although I think you already have when my son fucked you.

There it was. I knew it. His son had told him. Him, mentioning my previous affair with his own son while fucking me on his friend's bed was almost too much to bear. I let out a moan.

-Yes, he fucked me so good- I heard myself saying.

He started thrusting hard, eating my mouth with his, invading it with his tongue, his saliva mixing up with mine, his hands all over my tits.

I knew I had to keep it quiet, but I couldn't. I knew my daughter was just a couple of doors away, playing with a friend, and she thought I was supposed to be alone. Yet, I started moaning Charles' name, as a whisper in the beginning, but as his thrusts went deeper and harder, I heard my moans getting louder. I couldn't help it, I just LOVE moaning my lover's name when getting fucked. "Charles... oh yes, Charles... Charles..." I kept moaning in rythm...

I needed to do my favorite position to get banged, so I got to the edge of the bed on all 4s, so Charles could be standing behind me, grabbing me by my waist, and pounding me like hell. That's what I expected, and that's exactly what he gave me. That man was a womanizer, that man was a brat, but that man knew how to fuck. The noises from the lot, the fear, the coldness, it all felt so distant, it was like it was in another life.

My mind flew back in time to the year before. I was in that same spot, in that same position, in that same situation, but with his son. And now I was repeating it with him. And he knew.

He slapped my ass while banging me. I love how that feels, when I have a man behind me and he takes ownership of my body. I just fucking love it. He went harder and faster, slapping my ass every now and then, until I felt his cock throbbing inside me. He was about to cum. My despised neighbour was about to fill me with his hot milk on my own bed. That feeling, and the burst that came immediately afterwards, made me explode at the same time. I tried to refrain, but I cried out his name while I looked back at him, just to see his winning smile as he emptied himself in me. I knew I would need to make something up the next day to the kids, but the moment deserved it.

-Call your husband.- he told me once the orgasm began to fade away, still inside me. -Tell him I came by and got in charge of everything, and there's nothing to worry about.- his request was at the same time daring and exciting. I had called my husband in such situations many many times, but long ago. In that moment, I knew this would not be a fling as it had been with his son. I needed Charles in my life. I needed a man that not only fucked me hard and nice, but who enjoyed the risk and forbidden just as I have always done.

I won't post the details, but let's just say we laid down on my bed, naked, touching each other, while I had a long conversation with my husband, only interrupted by our constant kisses. It was so fucking hot, it made me feel so young. It was the start of a long side relationship I had with Charles.