The Thirsty Neighbor
A Short Story
All my stories are multi-part stories, except the one about Nisha. I thrive when I allow myself to write more about the characters in sex, that the sex itself. These stories are slow-burn, sometimes, spanning over a course of a month to finish. But these kinds of stories aren’t for everyone. This is my first attempt to write a single part story. This is fiction.
This story is about Aanya, the pretty neighbor next door. Aanya isn’t sketched as deeply as my other characters like Reeti or Gurleen. Aanya is 24, recently married. This is a story about one Sunday morning. Happy Reading!
It was 9 AM on a Sunday when the doorbell rang. The maid took leave on Sundays, and I didn’t subscribe to any newspapers. The parcels didn’t show up until mid-day. I swore when he had to struggle out of his bed, and walked to the door, rubbing my eyes.
I was in my tee shirt and a pair of checkered boxers. I took my time, walked to the door, and adjusted my hard dick, to make my morning erection less obvious. I peeped through the peephole. I squinted hard to be sure what he was saying. At the door, at 9 AM on a Sunday was a woman, in a loose red kurta and salwar and a wide dupatta around her neck.
I unlocked the door.
“Namaste,” said the woman, folding her hands. I noticed her feet, beautiful and bare, except for a little til near her big toe in one of her feet.
“Namaste,” I replied, unsure of who the woman was.
“We have never talked, but we live here,” she pointed to the door opposite mine.
“Oh! Nice to meet you,” I said smiling. She smiled back and lowered her eyes. I followed her gaze, only to realize that my morning erection wasn’t fully gone, and there was a noticeable bump in my boxers. I turned my body sideways to make it less obvious.
“Please come in!” I said, opening the door wide.
“Oh, no no, that won’t be necessary,” she said, smiling shyly.
I stood there for a little while, awkwardly holding the door open for my neighbor, whom I had seen for the very first time. I had been living in the same apartment for close to eight months, and yet, to me, the door in front of me was always closed, with a large sticker of stylized feet on the door and a welcome mat, and a few chappals lying outside.
We stood there for a moment, not sure what she wanted at 9 AM on a Sunday.
“This is embarrassing. My cylinder is empty, and my husband is away for work. I have ordered it, but I am not sure if they will deliver it today. By any chance, do you have a spare cylinder?” she said.
“Oh,” I said. I twisted my neck, still stiff from waking up.
I looked at the spare cylinder on my balcony, contemplating whether to give it to my neighbor, whose name I still did not know. I could hear my inner voice telling me not to do it, but my urge to help her was stronger.
"Sure, I have a spare cylinder. Let me get it for you," I said, trying to sound helpful.
I walked to my balcony and picked up the cylinder. As I walked back, I noticed her standing at the door, fidgeting with her dupatta. There was intricate embroidery in her kurta and a matching salwar. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, she had sindoor on her forehead and a mangalsutra around her neck, and red bangles on her delicate wrists. All symbols of her marriage. And yet, there was a certain innocence to her.
"Here you go," I said, handing over the cylinder to her.
"Thank you so much. I appreciate it," she said, taking the cylinder from me. At least trying to.
It was a 14 kg cylinder. I had a wheel stand, but the cylinder would have to be raised now and then because Indian homes are rarely entirely flat.
"You can't carry this to your kitchen. Let me help you," I said, holding the rim of the cylinder.
She looked hesitant, but eventually, she gave in.
It was a short roll, and we were at her door. She had the keys to the apartment in her hand. She fumbled a few times with the keys, which had too many keys to be the house key. While she was trying to key in, I noticed that beneath the huge red sticker with stylized feet (a symbol for money and good fortune to come into the house), there was a small wooden nameplate. All these times, I went out of my apartment, I didn’t notice the small nameplate, which said ‘Aanya and Aditya’. I assumed Aditya was her husband.
After she finally managed to open the door, I followed her inside. The flat was small but cozy. It was dimly lit, with curtains drawn and soft devotional music playing in the background. There was a faint smell of incense in the air. The walls were adorned with pictures of gods and goddesses, and there was a small altar in one corner of the room.
"I'm sorry for the mess," she said, noticing my gaze.
"I don't see any mess," I replied, smiling.
I followed her to the kitchen, rolling the cylinder on its wheel stand. The stove already had a saucepan, with water in it. She must have started making tea when the gas ran out.
I bent over, to take the regulator off the empty cylinder and crouched down to shift the new cylinder and fix it. As I worked on it, I felt her looking at me intently. I was bent over, and it was only in the middle of putting the regulator on the new cylinder that I realized that my boxer had slid down a little. I could feel my tailbone exposed to her.
I finished the work, and adjusted my boxer, before turning towards her.
When I did, I saw Aanya’s gaze a little lower, at my hip level. She quickly looked up and said, “Thank you so much!”
I smiled. I took the lighter from the kitchen top, turned the gas on, and lit it.
“Alright, I will get going,” I said.
“Please, have some tea. That’s the least I could do,” she said.
It’s been ages since someone made a hot beverage for me in the morning. I looked at Aanya, her lips naturally pink, even without the lipstick. The tiny mark of sindoor on her forehead. Her bangles clinked, as she took down the tea leaves from the shelf above. As she extended her body, I could see how taut she was. Short and taut. Even in the loose kurta, I could see how well-formed her hips were.
I nodded.
I would be lying if I say that I was entirely comfortable sitting on Aanya’s couch, in my boxers, without even washing my face. Right in front of me, was a large framed photo of her with a man, most probably her husband. They were a handsome couple, loving and young. I judged that Aditya was probably a couple of years younger than me, although Aanya seemed much younger.
I was absent-mindedly gazing at the photo when she heard the clink of her bangles. I turned to see her walking towards me, with a cup of tea on a serving plate. She smiled at me broadly, I smiled at her too. She had taken off her dupatta go, probably because she was working with fire.
Her breasts looked delicious in the red kurta. The kurta didn’t hug her body, but her body was so full, that she seemed to fill even the loose kurta with a sense of sensuality.
I adjusted the way I sat, to hide a quickly forming erection. She let the serving plate down in front of me, on the coffee table. My eyes were fixed on her chest, and her neckline was high, but when she bent over to keep the plate, it parted from the skin. I couldn’t see much, but having seen her in a dupatta all this time made even her bare neckline, erotic.
She had made a cup of tea for herself too. She took it and sat beside me.
I took my cup and took my first sip.
“Do you need some extra sugar?” Aanya asked me.
I shook her head. I was acutely aware that my dick was hard enough to show up as a bump in my flimsy boxer. It was not the kind of thing I wore when I visited someone for the very first time.
I looked at her, and, trying to take my mind somewhere else so that my erection could go away. But I found Aanya looking between my legs. My dick twitched, blood from my brain rushing to it, making it harder, under Aanya’s gaze.
I attempted to talk, “I am sorry that I visited your home for the first time, dressed like this,” I parted my legs, pointing at my bare legs and obvious lack of gentlemanly clothes.
She looked up, our eyes met, making it all too obvious that I knew she was staring at the bump in my crotch.
“It was me, who woke you up so early in the morning,” she said, keeping her teacup down.
“But thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t home or didn’t have a spare cylinder,” she said.
We became quiet again, running out of things to talk about. I had just woken up and was craving my first cigarette of the day. The tea helped, but with Aanya around, and now and then staring at my crotch, it was not the most comfortable place to be. I finished my tea, and said, “Alright, I will get going now.”
“Umm,” she said, getting up with me. Aanya looked sad, her face, smaller and less vibrant than it was a few moments ago.
“I would have loved to stay longer, but I think I should probably get dressed before I come here next time. And —”
“You are making such a big deal out of it. I don’t see what’s wrong with what you are wearing right now,” she said, looking down at my crotch. My erection was more obvious, now that I was standing up.
I chuckled. “Alright, I will be honest. I need my cigarette, which is why I am rushing. And also, it seems a little inappropriate to be here, behind a closed door, in my boxers. What if your husband comes —”
“He’s away for the entire day,” Aanya said. It was an abrupt sentence and not even a complete response to what I was saying.
I was quiet. I pursed my lips and looked at the door.
“Would you mind if I smoked here?”
“Not at all,” she said, smiling again.
“Okay. No, I mean, I see the altar there, and the gods all around —”
“They won’t mind,” she laughed.
“I’ll be back shortly,” I said.
I crossed the short corridor and entered my place. I took my packet of cigarettes, my lighter, and my ashtray.
I had left Aanya’s door ajar when I left. When I came back, she wasn’t in her living room.
I sat down on the couch and lit my cigarette. I had gotten my phone with me. Well, I could have easily gotten into a pair of trousers, but I had started to enjoy going around with my erection in front of Aanya.
I was halfway done with my cigarette when Aanya came out of her bedroom. She smiled at me. There was something different about the way she moved when she came out, something about the way she looked. I couldn’t put a finger on what was different. She looked hotter somehow. Maybe it was the hair, which she had let go of. Maybe, it was the face, which she might have washed when I was away.
“So, you live alone, I think?” Aanya said, taking clothes off the drying stand. She had her back towards me. As she shook the clothes to straighten the kinks, her body jiggled with it.
I stared at her ass, as I said, “Yeah, I do. I work from home, so, I am mostly home alone.”
“Me too. I have always thought that I’d ring the bell and introduce myself. After we moved in here, I lost my friend circle. It gets boring in the day, especially the afternoon when I am done with everything around the house,” she said.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I didn’t because you lived alone. And…” her voice trailed off.
I stubbed my cigarette and took out another.
“You can come in any time. We can hang out. Or you can call me, and we can hang out. It gets lonely for me too. In fact,” I lit my second cigarette, “it’d been ages since someone made a cup of tea for me, early in the morning.”
“Really?” Aanya said, her voice playful.
“Yes,” I said. “Why do I feel that there’s more to the question?”
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“No, there isn’t,” she shook her head. She turned slightly towards me. I could see the side of her face, the side of her lips, her smile, lighting her face up.
But there was something else.
When she’d turned towards me slightly, I could see her breasts from the side. And from that angle it was obvious. Aanya wasn’t wearing a bra. Earlier she was, because I had given her breasts a long stare. But, after she came back out, she wasn’t. Her kurta, though loose, had curved around the natural curve of her breasts.
Why would she take her bra off? I thought.
I looked down at my crotch. My dick had softened, after talking about inane things. But realizing that Aanya was braless, I had to touch my dick. She had her back to me, which meant, I could stare at her ass, at the little movements her body did as she went about her chores, and rub myself through the fabric of my boxer.
With a cigarette in my left hand, I rubbed my dick. Was she wearing a panty? Or did she take it off too? I thought, as I rubbed myself.
When I saw her collect the clothes together, I stopped touching myself, and try to be nonchalant. But, my dick was anything but nonchalant.
She turned towards me with a smile, “I will just —” she paused, looking between my legs, and my fully erect dick through my boxer, “ — just keep these in the room, and be back.” Aanya finished her sentence, her gaze lingering on my crotch.
My heart was beating fast, partly from rubbing myself and partly from the way Aanya looked at my crotch.
When Aanya came back, she had a polite smile on her face, and sat down beside me on the couch. I finished my cigarette, and adjusted myself to accommodate my erection better.
“So, what do you do on a typical Sunday?” she asked me, leaning back on the sofa.
I had to pull my boxers a little, to give my dick some erection room, and said, “My typical Sunday is chores around the house, then some gaming, some reading and some writing, and —”
“Writing?”
“Yeah, I dabble around with writing,” I said, crossing my legs to be more comfortable.
Aanya saw me struggling, her eyes still on my crotch. She was quiet, before she said, “You look very uncomfortable. Don’t be.” Her voice was different than her speaking voice, quieter and more deliberate.
I chuckled, “I am sorry, it’s just that I am not used to sitting in my boxers, in front of a beautiful woman.”
Aanya didn’t smile, instead, she said, “Then don’t.”
That’s all she said. No extension.
I opened my mouth to say something, but I decided to stay quiet. I looked into her eyes. The room was suddenly way too quiet, even with a bhajan playing in a loop. Aanya’s eyes looked different, her face, framed sensuously by her loose hair, her dupatta-less bra-less chest, and the bangles on her wrists — they were all erotic.
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We were sitting about a foot away from each other. But the air between us, felt intimate.
I stood up, my dick painfully hard against the fabric of my boxers. I looked down at Aanya, who was looking at my face intently.
I walked towards her, and stood in front of her. She looked at my crotch. I could see her lips parting, and her tongue licking her upper lip.
“The only I am comfortable here, is if I take this off,” I said, quietly.
She looked up at me, and then at my crotch. And then, she nodded, ever so slightly.
I held the waistband of my boxer, and started sliding it down.
It was a relief, to have my dick out.
I let my boxer fall at my ankles. I touched it, and stroked it. It felt good to finally touch it directly, instead of the fabric of the boxer. I stroked it, pulling my foreskin down. The air in the room felt cold, as it brushed my exposed dick head.
I looked at Aanya, whose eyes were fixed on the hard naked dick in front of her.
I took a step forward, bringing my dick closer to her face. Her lips had parted, as she had been looking at my dick.
When she didn’t lean forward, I pushed my crotch toward her. My dick touched her cheek first. It was soft and warm. She flinched and moved backward, but not enough for my dick to lose contact with her cheek.
From up there, I could see Aanya sindoor, her nose, her parted lips, and her eyes fixed on my crotch. I held my dick by its base, and rubbed it against her cheek. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, because my dick was dry and so was Aanya’s cheek. I needed her mouth.
I placed my other hand on her head. She looked up. My thumb was on her forehead, right over her sindoor.
“Open your mouth,” I said.
Her lips were already parted. When I saw her jaws move, I moved my dick, and placed it between her lips.
She squeezed her eyes shut, as my dick touched her lips. I pushed in, making my way to her tongue. I held her head in place with my hand. I could feel her move away, but I didn’t let her.
Her mouth was wet. I pushed in further. She didn’t open her mouth wide enough to take my entire dick in. It was still pleasurable. I tried to pump Aanya’s face, but it was too small for me to do so.
I let my hand go behind her head, so that I could push her head onto my dick.
With my dick in her mouth, she looked up, her face contorted. I took a clutch of her loose hair, and pulled her face away. With my dick near her mouth, its tip glistening with her spit, I bent over, and asked her, “I want you to open your mouth wider than this.”
“I —” she opened her mouth to say something, but I shoved my dick inside hers.
She was trying to say something, her voice reverberated through my dick. It only added to the pleasure of the experience. I pushed in, and kept doing that, till I finally hit the back of her throat.
I knew I hit the back of her throat, but I heard her gag. It’s a wonderful feeling, making women gag that way. I pulled her head away, pulled her by her hair.
She coughed, with her hand on her throat, her breasts jiggling as she coughed. Her sindoor had gotten smudged, with me handing her head around her forehead. It was a beautiful sight to watch.
I let her cough die down a little. When I jerked her head again, she raised her hands, put them on my bare thighs, and said, “No, I can’t,” she said.
I sighed. I let her hair go. I touched my dick, and squeezed its base. It was wet with her spit. I stroked it once, before stepping out of my boxers, and taking a step back.
“I am sorry,” Aanya said, looking at her hands, looking at her red bangles.
I was a little out of breath. I sighed deeply, but was quiet. I walked to the place on the couch where I was sitting earlier, and sat down, still without pants. My dick had started softening.
I saw Aanya shake her head. She covered her face with her hands. She was out of breath too. I took out a cigarette, and lit it.
I looked at the altar of Gods in the living room. I wasn’t registering the smell of incense sticks before, but now that I was naked and had been inside her mouth once, I had the bandwidth to register the smells. Maybe, this wasn’t the best place to fuck Aanya’s face, a married woman, who only wanted a spare cylinder from me.
“It’s been some time, since I have seen a dick hard for me,” Aanya finally said, looking ahead, her eyes almost glazed.
I was quiet, but I turned my head toward her. I spread my legs, getting comfortable with being naked in front of Aanya. I puffed at my cigarette, as I let Aanya think out loud.
She turned towards me, looked at my bare dick, which had softened to half its length and then looked at me again, “I am sorry, that I couldn’t go through with it,” she said.
I took a deep breath, and asked her, “Why did you let me do it, in the first place?”
“I…” her voice cracked, “I don’t know. It’s been a rough couple of months.”
She looked at the large photo frame of her and her husband, “Aditya, my husband,” she turned towards me, “he has been going through something. We haven’t had…” she shook her head, “Seeing you hard all this time, made me feel desirable, and I don’t know why I said what I said.” She touched her mouth, the mouth which had my raw dick inside it only some time back.
“You are desirable. Very much so. Much more than my hard dick could tell you,” I said, touching her arm.
She looked at me. I removed my hand from her hand, adjusted my ashtray and jerked off the ash from the cigarette. It was weird, having my naked ass on her couch, smoking like that. I was still on the edge, my balls heavy from having my dick sucked, even if it was for a brief moment.
I touched my crotch, adjusting my bare balls. She saw me do that. Aanya was about to say something, but she stayed quiet.
“Alright, I will get going,” I stubbed my cigarette, the third in her home.
I got up. She was still on the couch, when she asked, “I am sorry, for ruining your Sunday.”
I chuckled, “This was far from ruining. For whatever brief time, I loved your mouth,” I looked at the door, and said, “I will go home and jerk off, thinking about all the things I would have done to you.”
“Oh,” she said.
I collected my boxer from the floor, and was about to put it back on when she said, “Why don’t you do it here?”
I held the boxer in my hand, and said, “Are you sure?”
She thought for a moment, and said, “Yes.”
“I…” I looked at my soft dick, “I don’t know. It will be weird, just to jerk off here, with my eyes closed, and then the mess from the cum,”
“Don’t worry about the mess,” she said, getting up. She took the boxer from my hand, and let it fall a little further from us.
“Sit,” she said, placing her hand on my chest. I felt my dick twitch, at her slightest touch.
I obliged.
As I sat down, I couldn't help but stare at Aanya. She was breathtakingly beautiful. She had a youthful glow that made her look even more sensuous with all the symbols of Indian marriage on her. Her sindoor was smudged from earlier, which only added to her raw appeal. A reminder that only some time back, I had held her head, to fuck her face.
Without a word, Aanya began to undress. She pulled the kurta off over her head, revealing her naked body. My eyes trailed down to her chest, where her perky breasts stood out proudly. Her large, dark areolas contrasted against her soft skin, and her nipples, though not yet erect, were prominent.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, as if knowing that a moment like this will come.
And then, she moved to undo the knot in her salwar. She loosened it and let it fall. She wasn’t wearing a panty either. She was looking at me as she stepped out of her salwar. I gazed at her crotch. She wasn’t clean-shaven, but had sparse, dark hair on her crotch. The only modesty that was there.
As she stood there, my hand began to wander down my body, slowly making its way toward my aching erection. I was looking at her mangalsutra, which ended right before her naked breasts. I was listening to the clinks of her bangles, as she made the slightest of moves.
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But before I could touch myself, Aanya began to move, swaying her naked hips seductively.
She stepped closer to me, her hands trailing down her body, her fingers tracing the curves of her hips. My eyes followed her every move as she moved, moving closer and closer to me.
I started stroking my dick. It didn’t take long for it to gain a full erection. Aanya kept moving closer to me until she stood directly in front of me, her body just out of reach. She didn't touch me, but I could feel the heat radiating off her skin. Her naked body, swaying and moving was cruelly just out of my reach.
When she reached in front of me, she turned around slowly, and bent over. Her young bubbly ass, was dangerously close to my face. As she bent forward, she rocked her hips back and forth, swaying in the air.
She looked back at me, our eyes met again. I was vigorously stroking my dick, squeezing it.
And then, she grabbed both her ass cheeks, and parted them. Her pussy was pink and glistening. I wish, I had permission to taste it. I wish, I had permission to dip my dick inside her pussy, to have that pink flesh wrap around my dick, to pump her till I came.
She turned around, her breasts, jiggled a little, as she did that. Her nipples were hard by then.
It was when she cupped her own naked breasts, pointing those nipples at me, that I said, “I am going to cum”
I closed my eyes, surrendering to my urge to explode in pleasure, to show Aanya how desirable she was.
In the fraction of moments, before I came, I felt her hands on my knees.
She was swift. She was on her knees, and then, right before I spurted my first cum, she was waiting, with her mouth wide open. I opened my eyes wider to see the first spurt of my cum, land on her nose and chin, and some of it in her mouth. Her face flinched, but only have my second spurt land inside her mouth.
My legs shivered in pleasure. I squeezed my dick, to let the shudders of pleasure wash over me. Aanya, sucked me, one last time, to clean up every bit of cum from my dick.
Aanya watched me, still on her knees, between my legs, catching my breath. I opened my eyes, to see her chin, glazed with my cum. Some of my cum had fallen on her mangalsutra, her sindoor smudged. Her bangles clinked, as she wiped my cum off her chin. I noticed, how we weren’t touching each other, how my legs were wide apart, even though my cum was inside her mouth. She clicked her tongue a few times, as she swallowed my cum, opening and closing her mouth.
She was about to say something when the doorbell rang. And right after that, there was a thud, which sounded, very much like a new cylinder being delivered to her doorstep.
The End
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