The Party

What an...unexpected week.

I was out with friends and arrived home to find a note pinned to the door. The neighbor's daughter (who I will call R) was having her 18th birthday party, and to please excuse the noise. This is no problem, our two households have always got along quite well.

I went down to the shops to buy something for her. This past fortnight, I have felt on top of the world, which I am not upset about, but I can't explain why. So, it has been a good week for people other than me because when I am in a good mood, I tend to become quite charitable.

Not knowing much about her tastes or interests, I picked a fairly innocuous bunch of flowers and card. I scribbled some well wishes on the card and tracked over to her house.

I was invited to stick around for a bit, which I duly did. I met all the friends, told some jokes and got on pretty well with everyone. Parties and me are an odd mix. I don't quite see the appeal, and am usually loathed to go. Once there however, I tend to get swept up and quite unsuspectingly have been called the "life of the the party" a few times.

I walk by R, on the way to some food.

R: "Thank you for the flowers, they are lovely"
Me: "Glad you liked them"
R: "You didn't have to do that"
Me: "I know that, but we've been neighbors for years and it isn't everyday you turn 18"
R: "Follow me"

I watch her saunter down the hallway. This is unchartered territory for me, but I recently watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off. There is one line in that film that I try to apply whenever I feel apprehensive about something:

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it"

So I follow her to her room.

R reminds me about the little chat from the other day, and I tell her I hadn't forgotten. R tells me she is going to do what she wanted to do that day.

My mind is racing, holy crap!, WTF!?, a few hours ago I was in a movie theatre and now this?, won't someone notice her absence from her own party?. My breathing quickens and my eyes start to go into overdrive searching the room for something to remind me that this might be a dream, but I find nothing. It is all too real as I feel my fly making its descent, and blood diverting from parts my brain deems unnecessary at this point toward my crotch.

R: "I noticed you earlier, noticing these"
Me: "In the last 18 months either, you filled out, or changed the type of shirt you wore"

It should be obvious, but I like breasts.

R lowers her top, so the neckline sits snugly underneath her breasts, pushing them slightly upwards and together. It would appear that due to their tanned complexion, there has been many a time she has been topless 15 feet from my room, over the fence and to their back yard. These are the second pair I have seen in my lifetime, so I am no gauge, but to me, they felt great. Firm, but not too firm, soft but not too soft.

Her warm (and thank god, it was a cold night) hand moves my underpants to one side, dribbles a little saliva onto her hand and wraps around my shaft and begins stroking. Pretty soon, my self-made lubrication oozed out into the gooey mix, making it extra slippery.

Me: "Uhh, R, where..." (This is one circumstance I still don't know how to begin to say)
R: "Right here (motioning to her breasts)"

I can feel my balls tighten, my breathing quicken to a frenetic pace and my dick's "aim" being lowered on target. The stroking is at a pace which is quicker than vision can keep up with and I feel the the rush and contractions spurt out one, two, three, four, five, six! shots onto her waiting breasts.

R unhands me, looks up and grins

Me: "Well, that was the best part of that week"
R: "Glad you liked it, I did"
Me: "You know you could have just hugged me and that would have been enough"
R: "Well, it isn't everyday you turn 18"

I pulled the towel off her chair back and cleaned up for her, rehoused my dick and mingled back into the party (as far as I know) undetected. Even as I type this post, the images in my mind flood back, and then expectantly flood my pants.