Neighbors by Ashleigh Royce Page A

next to his. He grabs me suddenly and pulls me close. His tongue forces my lips apart.
    He reaches up and pulls the elastic hair band from my ponytail. Bouncy blonde curls fall around my shoulders. Dexterous fingers comb through my locks. My body comes alive. Pressing his shoulders, he understands that I want him on the floor. I stand over him, a foot on either side of his hips, and pull off my shirt. His eyes widen and I continue to undress, quickly removing my shorts. I’m in just my bra and panties. His breathing accelerates as his eyes drink me in. Flinging a leg over him, I sit across his waist, straddling his hips. I lean over. He doesn’t resist my kisses. His arms pull me close to him I feel his readiness against me and I know that he wants what I do.
    My hands skim his chest. I feel his muscles through his shirt. I lift the fabric from the hem and help him pull it over his head. With my fingertips I make swirling patterns on his now naked chest. Continuing the journey downward, I pull open the button of his paint-splattered jeans. Tugging at them, I drag both his pants and briefs over his legs. He springs free and I offer him a mischievous smile.
    “Now this is what I call a work of art,” I say. He smiles.
    His hands caress my back and work their way up to unclasp my bra. His palms cup my breasts. Skillful thumbs and forefingers roll my nipples. They pucker and elongate at his touch. The sensation registers deep in my groin. I arch my back, pushing my breasts further into his hands. I feel him growing underneath me.
    Slowly, I stand above him, looking down. I slide my underwear down my legs. His eyes never leave mine. His smile widens as I lower myself onto him until he’s buried deep inside me. I groan loudly. It’s deep and filling.
    I hold his arms to steady myself and lift up, then ease down.
    “Again,” he says and it excites me to know that he likes what I’m doing. I lift up again and ease down. He moans and I’m fueled. “More,” he says. My heart is pumping and I do it again. He moans. “Faster,” he begs. And I oblige. His hips move up to meet mine and a fast rhythm begins.
    My body quickens. I’m building. Soon my body is all sensation. His hips gyrate up to meet mine. I’m at the crest, and then… he stops.
    He lifts me off him and gets behind me. I’m on my stomach on the tarp. He pulls my hips so that I’m forced on my knees. One hand is on my shoulder, keeping me steady. The other is on my hip. I feel his impressive length as he impels me.
    “Oh,” I gasp. And he pulls back slowly.
    “Oh, Melissa,” he says, and his voice is sexy, hot, sensuous. 
    I claw at the paint tarp beneath me as he pushes deep inside me. He pulls back slowly and rams me again. My body quickens and I’m building again. Faster and faster his hips crash into me. I need release. He pulls back and I know it’s coming. It’s only seconds but I need it. I push back as he rocks forward, and I can’t hold back. My body convulses and I come around him. Dylan’s hips continue two, three times. He thrusts once more and surrenders.
    He pulls out and lie s on his side on the tarp beside me. We stay motionless until our breathing calms.
    “I like t he way you paint,” he says. I’m still panting but offer a smile. He kisses me with soft, warm lips.
    When my breathing slows, I say , “I’m going to grab some new clothes. These got ruined when you painted me.”
    His eyes widen. “You painted me first,” he protests, as he gets dressed.
    “That’s because I had to mark what was mine.” I give him a peck on the lips and pick up the clothes that had been painted and quickly put them on. “Be right back.”
    I walk across the street with a spring in my step, but slacken my approach when I notice Greg’s car parked on the street in front of my house. It deflates my mood. I look more closely and see that he’s sitting in the car. What does he want? I walk by him and pretend not to see him. He gets out of the