Sexy Neighbor Roleplay: Imagine Yourself with Me
The most ubiquitous sexual fantasy in the western world may just be one of the girls next door. You’ve imagined such a girl yourself. You’ve gone over it in your mind, thinking about this woman’s hands, her thighs, how her pussy might taste. Because of your obsession, your lust for this imaginary (or real) woman, you have possibly even engaged in some sexy neighbor roleplay of your own. You do this roleplay by yourself, maybe with a hookup or an ex. However, none of these women can do justice to the fantasies of your mind as I can. As a result, you are left feeling empty, hungry for me, in need of being fulfilled by my words, my sensuality.
So, what are you waiting for? Borrow that cup of fucking sugar.
Down the hall from you has lived by herself the cute sort of off-brand nerdy girl with the mousy brunette bob cut or straight dishwater blonde hair pulled back in a tie, bangs effortlessly framing her porcelain face. I’m that girl. . . because I can be every girl. The sexy neighbor roleplay of your dreams. I tie the bottoms of my unbuttoned flannels to show off my perfect belly-button as well as the frame of my hips. I wear cute, black, thick-rimmed glasses and cherry lime lip gloss. Most noteworthy of all is the way my distressed denim shorts perfectly hug my perfect, round ass.
You think about me often, peering through the peephole into the hall, watching me carry my groceries into my apartment. You want to step out, offer to help. The thought of it, serving me in that way, helping me with my sacks of produce, dryer sheets, bars of soap, whatever else I bought at the supermarket… it titillates you. Even though the thought of running to my aid practically makes you sweat, makes your cock start to tug at the inside of your pants, you don’t do it. Until one day, up against the clock, you’re making a dessert you had promised to bring to a potluck you just can’t get out of.
Almost as if by fate, you are out of sugar.
A moment later, standing at my door, you are so nervous, you’re almost shaking. You can’t stop thinking about me. Furthermore, perhaps you are even intimidated, frightened by me. Maybe it is because of the hold I seem to have over you. Almost like a virus, your need for me has infected you, and you’ve hardly even uttered a word in my general direction. Due to your obsession, you are practically sweating through your shirt, leaking precum into your pants when you lift one hand to knock on my apartment door. Before the second knock even makes contact, the door swings open. It’s me. “Yes?” I say, hardly surprised to see you standing in front of me. But you’re still shaking. Moreover, you’re practically going mad.
“M-may I bor-borrow a-a-a cup of-of s-s-sugar?” you stutter.
“Yeah,” I say, “come on in.” I step aside to let you in but take another look at you. “Are you okay?” I ask. Your obsession with me has practically paralyzed you. Additionally, you’re close enough to smell me now, all while you’re worried if your precum is making a little noticeable dot on the front of your khakis.
Then, “How much do you need?” to which you say weakly, “Cup and a half.”
So, I meander to the kitchen and the whole way there you notice my braless breasts bouncing in the tight white shirt under my open red flannel. Even more, my ass cheeks swaying with my steps all the way there and back. In response, your mouth is watering.
As I return to you with a small ziplock filled with the appropriate amount of sugar, you are running that sexy neighbor roleplay through your head.
“Here you go,” I say. However, as you reach out to grab the bag from me, your hand awkwardly closes around mine. So, standing dumbly still for what seems like an age, we stare at each other, silent. Until suddenly, my tongue is in your mouth and your back thuds against the apartment door, slamming it shut. My hand is wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you closer to me, even as I press my lips roughly against yours.
You’re panting, whimpering even. Furthermore, the pleasure centers of your brain are setting off fireworks into a tornado in the middle of a hurricane. But you give into the moment. You give into me.
Almost like a perfect metaphor for what’s happening between us, the bag of sugar has exploded on the floor in front of the door to my apartment, dissolving in the sweat on our skin.
Sexy neighbor roleplay is a perfect jumping-off point for a conversation with me. It’s a great fantasy in which to explore many different kinds of kink. I can be many different women when we are together. I know what my needy, ever-eager boys need, even if they do not. My insight is boundless. My eyes see things in you that you did not even know were there. Like the man in the scenario I just described, you will become addicted to me. Yes, you will become so hungry for me, you will do absolutely anything to hear my voice, to speak with me even just one more time. Anything.
That’s why I love to share erotic stories, to satisfy my boys. To get them excited. To make them dream. Sexy neighbor roleplay is just one facet of an endless expanse of possibility. If you want to finish this story, or if you would like to start another, give me a call.