Apples For My Neighbour

This story is Part 2 of Apples for My Neighbour.

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The evening of the day when I asked my neighbour Bob to pick my cooking apples from his side of the fence, I set to cutting them, coring them and boiling them down with some brown sugar and cinnamon. I don't use cloves as they are a very particular taste.

My mind was constantly going back to the events of earlier in the day - watching Bob wank in his living room; seeing him scurry off, holding his large cock; meeting him at the front door; and him nonchalantly taking me through to the back garden; innocently pressing against him on the ladder as he reached for my apples; and then undoing his zip, taking that lovely cock into my mouth, followed by him returning the favour - his tongue sliding up and down over my clit until I came. I came so hard!

I left the apples to simmer and watched some trash on TV. I couldn't concentrate anyway because I just had to let my hand fall to my lap and press over my mound. I kind of resisted the urge to rush, moving my hand away again and brushing my fingers over my good-sized tits. My nipples easily perk up through my top, and soon they were sending signals down to my pussy.

Of course, then I had to return to that centre of my being. I lifted up my flared skirt and pushed my hand inside my knickers. My pussy was pleasantly wet as I inserted my middle finger and slowly moved it around, grazing my other fingernails up and down my labia. I closed my eyes and saw Bob's head between my legs. The palm of my hand was right on my clit, and I pushed down into it.

Tremors began to flicker through my body. I knew I wasn't far away at all. I rubbed myself more purposefully, building up a slow but steady rhythm. Once again I imagined Bob's tongue licking me out. I picked up speed. My breathing became shallow. My legs, my belly, my back were all moving together as I sent myself up and up. I moaned and whimpered, then cried aloud as I came.

I flopped back, breathing heavily, eyes closed, then blinking. That was quick. Mind you, I'm not usually that slow. I went to the kitchen and had a glass of water. The apples were done, so I let them cool down. I had a few emails to go through before bed.

The next day I went next door to Bob's.

"Hi Jenny," he said. "Back for more?"

"More what?" I asked coyly.

"Apples, of course," he smirked.

"I've actually cooked those other apples," I said. "I was wondering when you'd like me to bring them round?"

"How about the end of the afternoon?" he said. About four? I've got calls most of the day until then."

"Four is great," I said. "See you then."

So he was assuming I'd do more than just drop them off, I thought as I walked back. I laughed to myself, as I concocted a plan. Then I remembered that I, too, had some work to be getting on with, and an online meeting. I needed to clear my head.

At five-to-four, I went to the fridge to retrieve the stewed apple. It was wonderfully cold in its glass bowl. I took it next door.

Bob answered my ring promptly, in his usual shorts and t-shirt. I held up the bowl in front of him and said, "massage aux pommes?"

"Mais oui," he answered. "I'm not sure what "massage aux pommes" entails, but I'm happy to give it a go."

"I thought your kitchen table might work as a surface to lie on," I said. I had actually been thinking about it all afternoon, and had found it very difficult to get any productive work done. I'd noticed yesterday that Bob had a large farmhouse table in the kitchen, so it was very slightly lower than standard, but long, wide, and very sturdy.

"No problem," he said. "Let's get it cleared of stuff."

I put the bowl down on the side, while we cleared the table of papers, glasses, a breadboard - all the usual clutter.

"What a magnificent playing field," I exclaimed once it was clear. "So - are you prepared to be entirely in my hands?"

"Do you mean tied down?"

"Not necessarily, though we can do that if you like. I really just meant, are you prepared to let me take the lead."

"Absolutely," he said.

"Then there's no need to tie you down - in fact, I'd rather have you free so you can follow suit."

"I'm good with that," Bob said.

"But I think we are a little over-dressed," I remarked, "and we haven't even kissed hello yet."

Bob stepped towards me, placed his arms around my waist as mine went to his shoulders and neck. We brushed lips, feeling the softness. We pressed together, gently merging our mouths. He parted his just slightly and I did the same. I felt the tip of his tongue running over my lower lip and I opened up further to take him in. Our tongues slid over each other luxuriously. I pushed through to his mouth as our hunger built.

We began to feel each other's bodies. His hands went down my sides, over my waist, to hold my hips. I spread my fingers over his hard chest and down to his midriff. I could feel him getting hard against me as we intoxicated one another by the heat of our mouths.

I slid my fingers under his t-shirt and pushed it up. His body was strong - not like a bodybuilder, but fit nevertheless. I stopped to plant wet kisses over his abs. He didn't have a hairy chest, but he wasn't shaved or anything showy. We pulled his t-shirt over his head and then he attended to mine.

His hands were spreading over my tits, fondling them and stroking my nipples with his thumbs. They responded as they always did to attention. My top came off over my head, and he held me close, reaching round to unclip my bra. I wriggled my arms through the straps and he embraced me so the bra was sandwiched between our bodies, while he stroked my back. I had a sudden sense of wanting to feel his lips there, and his cock entering me from behind.

He moved back, and I helped my bra fall away to the floor. He dipped his head kiss each of my breasts in turn, licking and sucking my erect nipples. I could feel I was so wet already.

"mmmm..." was all he said.

We held each other tight and resumed our deep kissing, sometimes pulling away so that only our tongue tips touched. The diving back into each other. His hand reached down and found the hem of my skirt. Then he was underneath brushing his way up and down my bare legs, working his way onwards. His thumb was under the elastic of my underwear, then his other hand was there too, and he pushed my knickers down to my knees. I shoved them down further until I could step out of them and push them away.

I felt his finger enter my naked cunt, slipping between my lips and into my flow. He was moving about inside me, curling back to stroke my sensitive internal flesh. I undid his shorts, and pushed them, with his pants, over his magnificent cock and to the floor. I took hold of his member, feeling the length, the width, the weight of it. I pulsed him to hardness, and fitted him between my legs, against me, so I could grind on him. I loved to do this. It transformed my hunger to starvation levels.

As we both started to writhe, I stopped and broke away.

"Okay," I said. "Let's not get too far. We have the massage aux pommes, remember?"

"Ah yes, where do you want me?" Bob said with a grin.

"Flat on your back on the table please," I said. "And just to be clear, I've never done this before, I'm making it all up as I go."

"So much the better!" he replied, and climbed up on to the top, hands under his head. He was just about the right length to fit.

I got the bowl of chilled apple and found a good-sized teaspoon. "You mustn't move until I say you can," I reminded him.

I looked at his body, the strong legs, his flat tummy, his midriff, and his soft but ready cock. I pulled his feet apart, hugging each one in turn, kissing the tops of them and running my hands up each leg, grazing him with my nails as I returned.

Then, when he was properly positioned, I took a spoonful of the cold apple and placed it on his nearest nipple. I heard a sharp intake of breath. I did the same with his other nipple, and then some more piles over his torso. I placed a couple of spoonfuls on each thigh, and finally, one on his cock - though I knew this wouldn't stay in place for long!

I gathered my hair in a tie, then I climbed up onto the table and straddled him over his legs, facing him. I arched my back down towards him, letting my tits sway low against his stomach, spreading some of the cold apple between us. I could feel the hunger rising all over again. I took the apple on his first nipple. It tasted sweet, tangy, and spicy. I massaged the area with my open lips, licking him and pulling lightly at his nipple with my teeth. I heard a sigh of appreciation, so I moved to the other side.

I moved to his tummy. My breasts were dangling around his cock and I moved them against him. I dragged my tongue all over his body, lapping at the apple and distributing it over his flesh. I could feel beginning to writhe beneath me. Then I sat back up on my haunches and turned around to face his feet. This time I straddled his chest. I couldn't resist splaying my fingers over my own body, sliding on the fruity mush we shared - up and over my breasts, tweaking my erect nipples, and then sliding down to my mound, pressing on my clit and slipping into my wet crevice.

I rubbed my hands over his midriff, spreading out the apple further, working it into his flesh like oil. Then I did the same with the fruit on his thighs. I could see he was pushing his cock up eagerly. He moaned again. I curled in to lap at his wet thighs and my tits engulfed his thickening cock. I wriggled against him back and forth, feeling his bulge grow. It was a tit-fucking in reverse.

I edged my way backwards so that he was now looking right up at my parted labia. The sight was as tantalising to him as his cock was to me - thick, crinkled lips, a long opening, the promise of a deep channel, glistening with hot juices...

I flipped his cock up to massage his balls, gathering to them together, a squeezing them between my fingers. Then I began to stroke his cock, rubbing his length with the remains of the apple.

"You can move now," I told him, "your hands and head if you like, just your top half."

He needed no more invitation. He grabbed a seat cushion we'd conveniently left within reach and poked it under his head. Then he ran his palms up and down the outside of my thighs. He managed to snake his hand between my legs, rubbing hard against my clit. Then I moved back further so I was sitting on his face.

I rubbed his cock and it filled up in my hand. I bent double to take him in my mouth, sucking on him, squeezing him, tasting him, feeling him get harder. I loved the way he grew, responding to my energy. I loved the proximity of his meat, the thickness, the sliding of his skin. And as I felt him responding so did I. My hunger and horn were growing every time I went down on him

I could feel him nuzzling into my cunt, licking along my labia, tracing the flowing shape of my opening, pushing his tongue inside me. His hands were sliding over my thighs and bum, bringing every pore into stimulation, then reaching forward to hold my tits or tweak my nipples.

Grunting and groaning we both were, our bodies smeared with the apple as we wrestled to serve the other. I wriggled back further, arching, and his tongue was able reach my clit. Sparks were shooting through me with every touch.

His cock was rock hard now and I licked up and down its length, loving all the bumps and lines, and that curve. I could smell the steam coming off it. Ooh I was looking forward to having that inside me. I grasped his balls in one hand while my other tightly circled his girth. His purple head looked like it might burst, it was so shiny. I covered it with my tongue, sucking up his precum.

I was sure he was on the brink of cumming, but then so was I. Which of us would get there first? I hoped we would cum together and if not, that I would be first. I let myself focus more on the sensations flowing through me from his determined mouth. I could feel myself rising higher, my legs and body quaking. I started pumping him hard with my hand and soon we were shaking together on that kitchen table.

"Jen...!" He cried, as his legs became taut. I ground myself against him and yelled, "I'm cumm...."

Wave after wave of ecstacy overwhelmed me, and as I kept on pumping his gorgeous cock, he finally went rigid and shot his cum up to the moon. I angled him backwards to catch the next shot in my mouth, hot and gloopy, then the next and next went over my neck and down to my tits. Then it was just seeping out. I slid my body forward to squish his spunk between us, and took him in my mouth again to suck the remaining drops off and out of him.

I crawled to turn around on top of him so that our faces were together. We kissed over and over, tasting each other's juices, merging, melding. I ground my cunt against his softened cock, which was still quite sizable. I knew I was close to another climax. If there's one way I cum easily, when I'm on top, grinding. He didn't need to do anything except hold me steady. I rode him hard and fast, purely serving myself, but I knew he was enjoying it too - pushing myself, unable to kiss because I needed to breathe.

"Arrgggh," I groaned as I came again. "Fuck!"

"We can do," came his voice.

We lay there for a while, spent and exhausted.

"So that's what you call "Massage aux pommes"?" he said with a smile.

"I think it is," I replied.

"Would you like to have a shower and see about Round Two?"

I got up and said, "Show me the way..."