Working Hard at Ignorance

This summer sucked. I was stuck at home, waiting for school to start back up, with little to do. Worse, I had no boyfriend, flings, side pieces, or boy toys. Not that I had any of those at college either. All the guys in town are too lame to be my boyfriend anyway. That, and they all think I'm weird because I keep bringing up pegging in casual conversation with them. It's not that I want to actually peg them. I just figured it would be a turn-on for them. Guys love it when girls use strap-ons on each other, shouldn't it be just as hot for girl-on-guy action? Apparently not, as every guy in town won't even go on a coffee date with me. Fucking prudes.

Now that summer was here, I was back at my parents' house with nothing to do but masturbate. On this particular morning, I woke up around 10 am after a late night of, well, masturbating, ready to get the day started and... well, probably masturbate more. But first, I needed some grub.

Downstairs, Mom and Dad were hanging out at the dining table together. "Good morning," I said as I went to prepare my usual breakfast of Honey Smack cereal mixed with creamer used in place of milk. My parents didn't respond but instead gave each other an annoyed look. As I sat down and started pouring sugar onto my cereal concoction, my mom sighed and then started talking to me about what was on her and Dad's mind.

"Isabela, honey. It's been a month, and I don't think you've even left the house. Maybe you should find something constructive to do with your summer," she said, cautiously.

"Look, I've been busy networking and making connections in my field of study, okay? It's critical for my future career. Just last night I was talking with one of the most renowned leaders in my field," I replied with a mouthful of cereal.

"From what I heard coming from your room last night, you spent all evening watching your weird courtroom porn again," he said, calling me out on my lie. God, I loved watching judge on jury anal play.

"I could have been doing both at the same time. You don't know," I rebuked.

Mom interjected to get us off the topic of my porn preferences. "You've been working so hard on your studies, honey. Maybe you should seek opportunities to practice... what is it you study? Obscurantism?"

"No, Mom. I study Agnoiology," I said, annoyed. I swear she purposely gets that mixed up every time.

"Right. That. What is that again?"

"It's when you... It involves the study of... when two guys and a girl really like... You know what, it's not important what I'm studying. Can I just eat my breakfast in peace? You know I get shaky if I don't eat well in the morning," I complained as I doused the top of my cereal with honey.

"Whatever it is that I'm spending 50k a year on for you to study, go out and put that knowledge to use. Heck, even around the neighborhood, people could use your help, I'm sure. If you don't, I'm shutting down the wifi," Dad threatened.

"You can't do that! Tonight I was going to watch Anal Arraignment 5: An Affidavit for Vagina... which is a lecture a college professor is giving and totally doesn't feature the hottest scene of a bailiff and court stenographer 69ing ever," I pleaded.

"Then get out there and put some work in. If you do that, you can watch your... lecture tonight," Mom said in a serious tone. I put on a pout as I ate two more bowls of cereal before finally giving in and leaving the house for the first time in a month. I had grown up in this neighborhood, and so I knew the neighbors decently well. But looking up and down the street, I realized I didn't have a clue how I was supposed to use my recently gained college knowledge to help anyone. However, the prospect of going an evening not watching defending and prosecuting attorneys engage in mutual masturbation motivated me to head towards my neighbor across the street.

I rang Mr. Sutton's doorbell, hoping he wasn't home, and I could use this as an excuse to head back home. Mr. Sutton was most famous for having been divorced six times. Throughout his life, he has gone on exotic vacations and returned with a new wife. Then, 1 to 2 years later, his wife leaves him. Just a few months ago, he returned from a trip to Haiti with his seventh wife.

The door opened, and I knew I was going to actually have to do some work today. "Hello Isabela! I had heard you were home for the summer. What brings you to my doorstep today?" He asked, warmly.

"I woke up this morning and had a sudden need to help people out around the neighborhood, despite my parents insisting I should just stay home and engage in self-pleasure all day. Do you have a need for an Agnoiologist in training?"

"Agnoiologist? Does that mean you can organize shoes? Cause my wife has a closet full of them, and it's a mess."

"Probably?" I said, shrugging

Satisfied with my answer, he led me inside. "My new wife is Swedish. Or Ugandan? I forget. But as you can see, she lives up to the stereotype of her people in that she owns a lot of shoes." His wife's closet floor was covered in fancy shoes, spread out randomly. "If you could organize them neatly, I would be ever grateful." He then left me to my task, stating he needed to head out of the house for a quick errand.

This was going to take forever. There had to be like 14 pairs of shoes here, and I'm sure Mr. Sutton expected me to put the matching pairs together, too. Over the next 10 minutes, I pouted about how I wished I had studied something easier that didn't involve shoe organizing. Although I don't think that actually has anything to do with Agnoiology, and now I feel an idiot for not pointing that out earlier. However, as I finally picked up a shoe, my eyes were drawn to the other contents of the closet. She had an extensive collection of gorgeous lingerie. Corsets, teddies, camisoles, bodysuits, rompers. She had it all. I was so jealous as all I had were some ass-less blue jeans I had made, and then got in trouble with my mom for making. Although it wasn't like I had anyone to wear lingerie for anyway.

The temptation grew too large, and I had to try at least one of these beautifully slutty outfits on. Mr. Sutton's wives were well-endowed women, and luckily so was I. I picked a black bodysuit that was crotchless and sheer. I fit into well and wondered why Mr. Sutton had never pursued me for his next wife, considering I had the build he sought. I guess I wasn't foreign, though.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I was in awe at how awesomely hot I looked. I shaved my pussy twice a day, and as a result, I was gloriously smooth there, which this outfit's lack of coverage showed off nicely. I also loved how the clothing made my ass look. But I thought my ass looked good in everything. It also felt good in everything, too. Why am I getting turned on thinking about my own ass?

With my thoughts and hands distracted by my glorious exposed cheeks, I lost track of time until I heard Mr. Sutton return. "Are you still here, Isabela? Are you all done with the shoes?" He yelled out. Crap! I haven't done anything towards the job he gave me, and I'm wearing his wife's lingerie. He's going to be so pissed at me.

Hearing him walking towards the bedroom, I ran and turned off the lights. Luckily, the curtains were drawn, and the room became nearly perfectly dark. "Is someone in here? Isabela?" He was entering the room and nearing the light switch I had just turned off. It was time for me to do the fast, on-the-fly problem solving I'm so well known for.

"It's me, husband... your wife. Isabela just left and did a fantastic job with the shoes. Unfortunately, I, being a worse wife than she could potentially be, already messed up the shoes, and they are back to how they were at the start." Having never met Mr. Sutton's wife, I took my best shot at imitating her voice by faking a combination accent of Ugandan and Swedish, which ended up sounding like a Jack Sparrow impression. Which made sense as the Caribbean is halfway between those countries.

Mr. Sutton paused, and for a split second, I thought that somehow he saw through my deception. "Okay, well, I guess I'll have to have Isabela over again to reorganize those shoes. Did you know she is studying Agnoiology? Whatever the hell that is. I thought for sure she would end up a stripper, considering how bad her on-the-fly problem-solving skills are. Oh, well. I guess it could still happen," he said with a sigh.

You mother fucker, I thought to myself. But I held my anger at bay, especially considering he was nice enough to think I had what it took to be a stripper.

"But why do you have the lights off? Let's get some light in here," he said as I heard him walking towards the switch.

"Wait!" I yelled out like an irreverent trickster pirate with dubious morality. "I wanted to keep the lights off so I could... have sex with you in the dark. You know! For shits and giggles."

"Sex? You said you would only have sex with me after watching UFC fights."

"Well, today is an exception." It was then that I could hear him quickly getting his clothes off, and I knew I had successfully tricked him. Except what had I tricked him into doing? Was I really going to fuck my middle-aged neighbor just so he wouldn't find out that I was trying on his wife's lingerie?

"I went to the store yesterday and tried to find condoms that would fit my 10-inch dick, but I didn't have any luck," Mr. Sutton said. Yep. I was.

As I got into bed and prepared to lose my virginity, I thought about how lucky I was to get here. Most college girls have to go on dates or flirt to get a guy in bed. Which is so annoying, as college guys are so sensitive. You bring up the wrong topic, and they are out.

'How often do you make out with your guy friends in the shower?'

'How do you compare dick sizes with your friends? Do you get hard first, then have a trusted companion measure them? Or do you stand facing each other and line them up? Could I watch you do that?'

'Would it be weird if I think about your dad when we have sex?'

You have to walk on eggshells with these guys. But here I am with a golden opportunity to get laid without doing any of that bullshit. True, tricking a nearly fifty-year-old guy into thinking I'm his wife isn't how I have fantasized losing my virginity. But Sam Waterston from Law & Order won't write back, so that dream wasn't going to come true anyway.

As I lay on the bed, Mr. Sutton climbed on top of me, and I worried he would get close enough to my face and realize I wasn't his wife. I shot up and then got on all four, with my exposed pussy facing towards him. "Doggy style, please. I want to be fucked... like a dog," I said nervously.

"Oh, okay. Do you want me to bark?"

"What? No? Don't be weird... maybe a little," I said, maybe learning a new kink of mine. I tried to relax as I felt his hands grab onto my hips. Holy shit, this is really happening. For once, I won't have to masturbate to get my rocks off today. I mean, I'm still going to masturbate tonight, of course, but now when I do, I'll have a better appreciation of what those lawyers are feeling when they are... "Oh Fucking Fuck Balls!"

Thinking about flicking the bean distracted me, and I didn't notice my neighbor's dick until it pressed into me. The rapid loss of my virginity was intense and made me question if having such a well-endowed man be my first lover was my best idea or not. "Wow, you are wet today, honey. Are you sure you weren't watching UFC earlier today?"

The pain was subsiding, and that allowed me to appreciate the incredible feeling of having a fat cock stretch me out and penetrate all those sensitive areas my own fingers could never reach. God, I was really loving having sex with my parents' married neighbor.

As I felt him drive deeper and deeper into me, which my body was responding to with quivering muscles and involuntary moans, I remembered I needed to keep up my act of being Mr. Sutton's wife. "Oh god, your cock feels so good as usual. I'm so glad we are married and do this at our typical frequency, whatever that is. It reminds me so much of our time... having sex that one time," I said, keeping up my Jack Sparrow voice.

"Are you feeling okay? You're saying some weird stuff," Mr. Sutton said as his hips slapped into my plump ass cheeks. Crap, he's starting to get suspicious. If I knew I was going to be in this situation, I would have attempted to spy on Mr. Sutton and his wife fucking ahead of time. Maybe I should spy on the other neighbors on the street, just in case I get into a similar situation with them next.

But masturbating while watching other husbands fuck their wives would have to wait. Right now, I need to get Mr. Sutton to think that he is currently balls deep in his wife and not his very jealous, next-door neighbor's college-age daughter. What would a Swedish Ugandan say during sex? "Fuck me harder! Slap my ass. God, you feel amazing. We should totally invite your six ex-wives over for an eight-some. We'll have to make sure everyone brings a strap-on dildo. Oh god, keep plunging your dick deeper into me. Or we could go fuck in the theater, maybe during a midnight show. I'd love to ride you while the people behind us watch my tits bob up and down. Oh shit, I'm going to cum so hard. Oh! Maybe we can invite a young neighbor girl for a threesome. One who is actually good at on-the-fly problem-solving skills, according to everyone else, and not just your dumb, big dick opinion. You could rail her from behind while she eats out my pussy because maybe she has always been curious to try that. Or we could... or we could... fuuuuuuccccckkk!"

A wave of pleasure was hitting me and sending me to heights of sexual satisfaction I never thought possible. My eyes went white, and the world around me faded as my mind was overwhelmed with beautiful agony. It wasn't until I felt Mr. Sutton's cock twitch inside me and fill my pussy with warmth that I finally came down from my high. I somehow managed to stay conscious and eventually found the strength to sit up. "Wow, babe. That was amazing sex. Did you really want to try all that stuff? Including a threesome with Isabela? I'm not sure if she would be up for it. She has always come across as rather prudish," Mr. Sutton said, lying next to me.

"I think she would be up for it," I said between breaths, committing my neighbor's wife to some interesting experiences in the near future.

Soon, Mr. Sutton was asleep, having exhausted himself emptying the contents of his balls into my womb, and I managed to sneak into the closet and change back into the t-shirt and shorts I arrived in. I slipped out the front door and felt accomplished at having helped a neighbor, as my parents had asked. Well, kinda helped. Really, all I did was lie and get creampied by a married man. That probably isn't what my parents intended for me to do. Fuck! I'm going to have to go to another neighbor, aren't I?

I thought about my next move. My last visit to a neighbor ended with me getting laid. Thus, it would be logical to assume that I will have sex with the next neighbor I visit as well. With that in mind, I visited the house just to the east of my parents. A single guy lives there by the name of Van. He's 29, hot as hell, and loaded. I couldn't wait to pretend to be his girlfriend in a dimly lit room and have him cum inside me. But first things first. I would need him to agree to give me a job, and I had the perfect idea.

I ran back home to my parents' house, where they complained that I shouldn't already be done yet. Assuring them I was just grabbing some stuff, I changed into my sluttiest bikini that showed off much of my round ass and risked a nipple poking out from the top. I bought it for a pool party I was invited to after graduating high school, and hoped it would get one of those loser guys I graduated with to stick it in me. But they were too intimidated by me, I assume. Although they claimed it was because they didn't want to associate with a girl who was caught masturbating to an episode of Night Court in the school library.

I threw an oversized t-shirt on and grabbed some dish soap and a bucket. "I'm going to be doing something. Maybe don't look towards Van's house for the next twenty to sixty minutes. No reason I'm saying that, just don't look that way," I said cleverly. My parents had dozens of follow-up questions, but I ran out the door and avoided answering any of them. I had a hot neighbor to seduce and get plowed by.

As I approached Van's house, I threw off my t-shirt, leaving me with only my bikini. Feeling the breeze on my cheeks, I again appreciated how much this swimsuit exposed of my body. After knocking on his door vigorously while holding down the doorbell nonstop, an annoyed-looking Van answered. "I'm looking to use my degree to help out my neighbors today, Van. I was thinking I could wash your car for you," I said while putting my arms behind my back and swaying my chest back and forth.

"I just got it washed at the car wash yesterday," he said, pointing to his immaculate, shiny car sitting on the driveway.

"Yeah, well... how about you get it washed by a hot chick?"

"The girls at the car wash were very attractive." God damn it, he's right. There's a redhead there that has the roundest ass I've ever seen. She always laughs at my muff diving jokes. Cause I was totally joking when I talked about doing that with her in the back seat of my car. I think. I should get my car washed again soon...

Focusing on the potential sexual partner in front of me, I protested again. "Dude. I'm wearing barely anything in front of the whole neighborhood, trying to get you to agree to let me get wet on your driveway while I shake my tits and ass and likely do a poor job washing your car. Can you just play along?"

Van rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders. "Fine. You can wash my car," he said, exasperated.

"And you better be watching me through your window the whole time! I'm not doing this for old man Jenkins and his friends' viewing pleasure," I said, pointing out the five elderly men sitting on the porch next door whose eyes haven't stopped staring at my barely covered body. He let out a big sigh and closed the door.

A minute later, he stood at the window emotionless. This was my chance to do the sexiest car wash ever seen by man. I grabbed the hose, which had a small spray nozzle attached to the end. This will drive him crazy I said, thinking of the sexiest idea ever. I stuck the nozzle down the front of my bikini bottoms and turned it on, thinking he would imagine the nozzle as his dick and the water as his cum. Instead of being seductive, I yelled out as a strong stream of freezing water hit my most sensitive area, sending me to the ground as I held my crotch in pain.

Eventually, I recovered and got back up. I leaned against the car and assumed maybe I was subtle enough that Van didn't notice me blast my pussy with ice-cold water. Although the laughter of the old men nearby told me they saw everything. Okay, maybe women typically don't have hoses spray their crotches, but tits are primed to get blasted with later. "Oh, it's so hot. Whatever could I do to cool off?" I used my most alluring tone of voice, although a lot more Captain Jack Sparrow got into it than I intended.

Placing the nozzle a few inches from my chest, I turned on the hose, and again I underestimated the force of water and fell to the ground. The explosion of water also had the effect of completely freeing me of my bikini top, which was now flowing with the water towards the street. I got to my feet and ran after it, enduring the hoots of the elderly men as they enjoyed the sight of my naked tits bouncing as I ran. After tripping twice in my quest to retrieve my top, I finally managed to get it and secured it back on my tits. While not graceful, it had to at least be a little sexy, right? I looked up at Van and saw he was now eating chips out of a bag while continuing to stare at me, devoid of any emotion. His eating had to be a good sign, right? Guys usually eat before engaging in vigorous sex, I was sure of it.