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You always feel a little weird when you make eye contact with your neighbor. While Mr. Kennedy is always a gentleman, you can’t help but feel awkward around him. The man is simply intimidating, you can’t help but look down at the floor whenever he asks you a question. Maybe it’s because he’s twice your size, that with a single touch he can break you in half. Perhaps it’s because there’s not much information surrounding him, none of the neighbors know much about him. It could also be that even though he’s almost old enough to be your father, you’re damn near giggling when he tells a shitty joke.
Mr. Kennedy is no comedian, but he never fails to make the women around him laugh. Whenever you bump into him, another neighbor already has his claws in him. You watch a superficial interaction for a couple of seconds, where he tells a dry joke that never fails to make the person with him bend over laughing. They wipe away a tear, and you roll your eyes as you walk away– But you can’t help but think that if you were in that position you’d do the same thing. You’re always too awkward, the thought of even starting a conversation with Mr. Kennedy feels inconceivable.
Even though the man does attempt to strike a conversation with you, your words are dry. It’s hard to keep a conversation going, which should be fine, he’s just your neighbor. You’re just there to help each other out when a day-to-day task becomes a little too hard. For nothing else.
“Let me get that for you,” Mr. Kennedy notices the absurd amount of groceries in your arms, and he runs to your aid. He picks up a can that fell to the ground, before taking the brown paper bag in your grasp. You feel a heavy weight lifted, one that he now carries. He doesn’t seem to be struggling though, which doesn’t particularly shock you.
“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you sheepishly smile at him, before successfully opening the door to your apartment. You stand to the side, allowing the man to walk in first.
“Mister?” He cocks an eyebrow, something you don’t get to see as he walks ahead of you. You brush off the comment, knowing that you’d feel weird if you called him by his first name. Sure, he has no authority over you but that doesn’t negate the fact that he’s much older than you and you aren’t friends by any means. You’re just trying to be polite. “You got enough groceries to feed a village.”
“Yeah I’m going to a baby shower and bringing some food,” you share as you begin to unload the groceries in the bags. You shamefully put the prepackaged cookies to the side, knowing that you’re planning to pass them off as your own. You sheepishly smile at your neighbor before saying, “would you like anything, Mr. Kennedy? Something to drink? A snack?”
“Leon,” he says, making you tilt your head. He notices a perplexed look in your face, making him say, “Leon, call me Leon.”
“Alright, Leon,” you nod. “Is that a no to a drink?”
“I’m good, sweetheart,” he answers, sending a chill down your spine. Sweetheart, such a simple pet name yet you feel your face get warm as you hear it from your neighbor– Your very attractive neighbor dare you comment.
You mindlessly stare at each other in an awkward silence before he finally clears his throat. “Can I use your bathroom?”
“Yeah, it’s down the hall to your–” you begin, and he finishes the sentence for you.
“Left,” he nods. “I have the same layout.”
He walks away, leaving you to unpack everything and put it away in silence. You’re biting down your lip, trying to figure out what your next move is going to be. Are you going to attempt to talk to him more or just let him go unscathed? If you were any other neighbor you’d be jumping on his bones right at this moment.
You nearly chuckle as you imagine a nearly impossible scenario that starts in the living room, goes to the kitchen, bathroom and finally your bedroom– It’s not shocking why you can’t maintain eye contact with him, just a simple glance at him leads you to the dirtiest fantasies that make your own brain blush.
You’re getting carried away in your own thoughts barely noticing what happens in your own home. A loud thud brings you back to reality as a rolling can finally hits the vinyl floor. Just as you’re about to lean down to pick it up, you notice that you aren’t alone in the kitchen anymore.
“Let me get that for you.” He rushes to your side, acting as if the can was some sort of danger that he needed to save you from. He picks it up, setting it down on the counter.
“Thank you,” you smile at him, and he nods. “Would you like that–”
“You know you’ve got a leaky faucet?” he unintentionally cuts you off. Your eyes widen, and you feel your face get warm with slight embarrassment before you nod.
You awkwardly chuckle. “I’ve been trying to get maintenance to fix it but they’ve been taking their sweet time.”
“I can fix it,” he offers without hesitation, making your brows raise. You quickly shake your head.
“That’s okay, that’s too much to ask from you,” you reassure him, making a guttural laugh leave his throat.
“I have everything right next door, it’ll be quick,” he answers.
“Are you sure?” you ask, and instead of giving you a verbal answer, he steps out of the apartment to search for the tools. You’ve always been too much of a wimp to hold a normal conversation with him, or else you would have noticed just how kind Mr. Kennedy is.
Within minutes he’s back inside with all the tools he needs. He holds up the bag before saying, “I am going to need your help though.”
“Of course!” You rush to his side, following behind him as he walks to your bathroom. You feel your hands get sweaty, nervous that you find yourself alone with your neighbor– Though you have no reason to be nervous while you’re around him. It’s not like you have anything up your sleeve.
“So what do you do?” you ask as he begins to work on your faucet, checking what exactly needs fixing. He cocks an eyebrow, humming as he directs his gaze at you for a second.
“Why do you want to know, sweetheart?” he asks, instead of giving you a straightforward answer. Either he does something sketchy or he’s as closed off as he looks. You suck in your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling slightly embarrassed at your failed attempt at chitchat.
“Just curious, that’s all,” you respond, sitting down on the sink, eyes intently watching. You note his every move as you focus on his dexterous hands.
“Nothing interesting. How about you?” His answer makes you furrow your brows while your curiosity grows. Nothing interesting yet your neighbor drives a brand new Porsche.
“Nothing interesting as well,” you respond, figuring that details aren’t needed. You can be as secretive as he is.
“You come home late a lot,” he points out, and you end up shrugging. He opens the tool bag that’s beside you. He rummages, trying to find a specific tool.
“Are you keeping tabs on me or–” you begin, only to be cut off by him.
“Can you hand me the screwdriver?”
You begin to look inside the bag, trying to find what he needs. Rummaging through all the tools, half that you can’t even give a proper name, you finally find something that’s screwdriver shaped. You take it out, and hold it like a trophy. “This it?”
“Bingo.” He snatches it from your hands before speaking again, “What were you saying?”
“Nothing,” you answer, getting off the sink. You decide that it’s not worth the hassle. “I’m gonna get some water, you want some?”
“I’m good.” He’s focused on the task at hand, not daring to take his eyes off the faucet. You hum in response before walking away.
You’re sure he’ll be fine for two minutes while you get water– You don’t know what it is but you’re suddenly thirsty. As you open the cupboard, you hear a clank followed by a very loud, “Shit!”
“You okay, Leon?” You practically run back to the bathroom, only to find that the faucet has burst. Leon gets it under control, but now he’s completely drenched. You immediately look for a towel to hand him. “What happened? I thought you had everything under control?”
“I did, until the sink decided to fight back.” He lets out a low chuckle as he takes the towel that you hand him. He dries his hair before trying to dry his shirt with the towel, essentially doing nothing. It’s completely soaked.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect it to cause you so much trouble,” you apologize, grabbing the towel and rubbing his shirt to undo the damage. It’s to no avail.
“It’s okay, I’m the one who overstepped–” he begins, but his train of thought is quickly cut off when he realizes that you’re trying to… take off his shirt?
“Let me throw it in the dryer,” you insist, and Leon is about to cut you off and remind you that he lives right next door. He can simply go back to his apartment, throw the shirt in the dryer and grab a new one, but what would be the fun in that?
“You’re a doll, thank you,” he answers, helping you out and taking off his shirt without a sweat. Your eyes widen, face getting warm as you hold his shirt in your hand, realizing that your neighbor is shirtless in front of you. Not only is he shirtless but he looks good.
You almost feel dirty, knowing your eyes can’t help but stare at him like you’re some sort of pervert. For fuck’s sake, you’re ogling like some sort of caveman.
“Everything okay?” he asks, knocking you out of the trance he put you in. You bite down your lip before nodding in response.
“I’m okay,” you nod, taking a step back. “So am I sinkless for a while now?”
“I’ll call maintenance and get them to come over,” he says, and you chuckle.
“Oh, good luck. That’s going to take ages.”
“They’ll be here tomorrow morning,” he assures you, following behind you as you throw his shirt in the dryer.
“Right,” you respond sarcastically.
“Why do you think all the neighbors come to me? I get–”
“I can think of another reason,” you mumble, and he cocks his eyebrow.
He hums. “Care to share?”
“You’re smart enough to know, Mr. Kennedy,” you answer, and he doesn’t bother to push you on the subject. If you don’t want to give a clear answer, fine. “Will you call maintenance for me then?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” He grabs his phone and does as he’s asked without hesitation. You watch him, eyes lingering where they shouldn’t. Even though you make eye contact every couple of seconds, your eyes appear to be glued. You have no shame.
He sits comfortably on your couch, putting the phone on the coffee table. He has no desire to hold the phone while he’s on hold for however long it takes. He spreads his legs, throwing his head back– Almost as if he’s putting on some sort of show for you.
“You know, I thought you’d be better at handiwork,” you comment, a rather snide remark toward someone who’s gone out of their way to help you. You don’t mean it as an insult, it’s just an awkward attempt at conversation with him.
“I’m much better at destroying things.” He doesn’t even attempt to defend himself. You chuckle, sitting down beside him. “That’s what I get for trying to help out.”
“I really appreciate you! You really didn’t have to but you went out of your way to fix things,” you say, giving him a warm smile. “And I’m sorry your shirt got all wet.”
“It’s all good, I was planning on going for a swim later anyway,” he jokes, earning a pity laugh from you. He licks his lips before asking, “Was the joke that bad?”
“What kind of laugh did you think you were going to earn from me?” you reply, and he shrugs.
“Usually I have someone bending over and wiping away a tear,” he claims, and you attempt your best not to laugh. A hearty laugh, the one that he wants to earn from you.
“Because they want to be bent over and wiping away tears in another manner.” You’re rather bold with your choice of words, but they get the point across. He laughs, before nodding in agreement. It’s not like he can deny something that’s so painfully obvious.
“I guess I have no future as a comedian then,” he says, and you can’t help but hum in agreement. “Maybe as a stripper.”
“Considering you’re shirtless on my couch, I say go for it,” you answer, and he hums.
“You’ve been staring for quite a while, I say I’ll make quite a fortune.” He doesn’t bother holding back, knowing there’s no need to sugarcoat what’s clearly obvious. Your eyes won’t tear away. Maybe he would’ve ignored it had it been a casual glance, but you’re staring at him like he’s a fresh piece of meat.
“What– No, no I haven’t.” You quickly shake your head, feeling your face get unbelievably hot. You’re lying through your teeth, but you refuse to admit it.
“No need to be ashamed, you know. You can touch if that’s what you want.” He looks at you smugly, and you bite down your lip. Oh how so many women would kill to be in your spot.
Your hand begins to move involuntarily, inching towards him. Just as you feel the heat that radiates off his body, a voice cuts you off. “Front office.”
You freeze as he reaches for the phone, bringing it up to his ear. You retract your hand, awkwardly resting over your thigh. You stand up, going back to the kitchen to take out the ingredients that you need– Remembering your original plans for the day. None which involved your neighbor.
You have a lot to do, and you quickly remember as you take out piles of food. You try to ignore him, but his rather demanding voice catches your attention. It upsets you just how hot he sounds. You try not to even look in his direction as he talks, feeling like you’ve already embarrassed yourself enough. You manage to control yourself until the talking finally stops.
“They’ll be here tomorrow morning, sweetheart.” He joins you in the kitchen, watching as you run around trying to go back and forth between the recipe book and your ingredients.
“Thank you, Leon,” you answer, not adding much more. He stares at you for a moment, expecting you to say something else but you remain silent.
“I’ll get going then,” he says, waiting for some sort of protest from you. You look at him for a moment, before opening a drawer and pulling out a rolled up cloth. You toss it in his direction where he unfolds the rather small apron– Small in his terms. “What’s this for?”
“You’re helping me bake,” you answer, and without hesitation he puts it on.
“Why am I helping you bake?” he asks as if he wasn’t putting on the apron. He’s simply curious, that's all. A man is allowed to have questions.
“Since you fucked up my sink,” you reply as he turns his back to you. You click your tongue as you tie the back, just as he wants. “I also need a lot of help.”
“How many people are going to this baby shower?” He notices all the ingredients that you have resting on the counter. “Are you planning to feed a village?”
“If you behave you can have a taste,” you say, and there’s a hint of a smirk on his face. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “Do you know how to make a cheesecake?”
“Sure.” His voice isn’t very convincing, but he grabs one of your bowls and cracks two eggs in it. You leave it be since you don’t have an idea on how to even start it.
You’re running around, going back and forth between the ingredients on your hand, the ones that the recipe book calls and searching for the dishes you need. Leon can’t help but notice how you’re all over the place, making him question, “Are you the group’s certified baker or are you simply doing a favor?”
“Why?” you ask, and he shrugs before a guttural laugh leaves his mouth. You purse your lips, eyes narrowing as you stare at him. You dramatically gasp, before flicking his bicep, “Are you suggesting that I don’t know what I’m doing!”
“You said it, not me!” He defends himself, quickly followed by a chuckle that makes you laugh as well. He clears his throat before speaking again, switching the topic, “So… What you were about to do…”
“Hmm…?” you hum, acting oblivious as if your hand wasn’t about to act on its own.
“You can act stupid all you want but–”
“Why are you insisting on talking about this, Leon? Is there something you want to say?”
He stops what he’s doing, dusting his hands off and steps toward you, getting dangerously close. He maintains intense eye contact with you until he’s right behind you. You feel his breathing down your neck, and a lump forms on your throat as your heart skips a beat. The nerves that had faded as you felt more comfortable are quickly back.
“Why do you think I always offer to help you out?” His voice is hoarse, sending a chill down your spine. You slowly turn to face him, looking directly into his intimidating eyes.
“Because you’re a gentleman.” You know your words are full of shit, but you don’t want to be too straightforward. “Isn’t that what you do with everyone?”
“They run to me, not the other way around,” he clarifies, and you can’t help but chuckle. You’ve seen it one too many times where they flock to him at any minor inconvenience. You can’t judge because that would be you if you weren’t so awkward with the man. But he’s intrigued.
“What? Does the chase excite you? Is that why you’re here?” You try to step back as you feel the place get unbelievably hot. But there’s not much room for you to move, you’re quickly backed against the counter.
“The chase? There has been no chase, doll. I talk to you and you smile and wave goodbye.” His hand goes under your chin, tilting your head so you look directly at him as you attempt to avert your sight.
“Then why are you here?”
He smirks. “Because I think you’re the sweetest thing my eyes have come across, and I have the biggest sweet tooth.”
“Isn’t the proper thing to ask for a date?” you ask, though that’s the last thing your body wants. Your body craves for his touch and you almost believe that he looks like this to elicit some sort of reaction in you– There is no reason for him to be shirtless in your apartment.
“We both know you want to skip that step.” He’s not the type to do this, but Leon doesn't know for how much longer he can hold back. He’s never gotten this opportunity with you and now that he’s so fucking close he’s not letting the chance slip from his fingers.
“You know…” Your hands meet behind his neck, pulling him closer so he’s meeting you eye to eye. You catch the scent of mint on his breath, letting you know that he’s been anticipating this. Leon came ready. He didn’t offer to help out of the goodness of his heart. He probably only got shirtless to make a move on you. Worst of all is that it’s working. A low effort plan, and it’s working. “That’s not what a lady wants to hear.”
“I’ve never been particularly good with impressing the ladies,” he says, and you end up laughing as if it were some sort of joke, even if he isn’t joking. You reach behind his back, undoing the knot that holds the apron together.
“You’re such a liar.” You roll your eyes.
“Hmm? What does that mean, sweetheart?” He cocks his eyebrow, and you bite your tongue. You’re trying to break eye contact, trying to resist temptation. Your hands land on his biceps, thinking of pushing him away and fighting back until you actually feel just how strong he is.
“If we did something you wouldn’t tell a soul, right?” you ask as he cups your face.
“You wouldn’t like to brag about it? I’m kind of a catch around here,” he jokes, making you roll your eyes. His face inches closer to yours, and just as his lips are about to meet yours, he reassures you, “I won’t tell a single soul.”
“Then kiss me.” You close the distance that keeps you apart, soft lips pressing against his own. You’re shy, he can tell. You pull away quickly, but he pulls you back in just as fast, more intense than your initial kiss. His hands move down, leaving your face and sliding down to your waist.
You get more comfortable, melting into his lips. Anticipation grows with each second. Leon’s hands begin to play with the hem of your shirt, growing restless. Your tongue glides into his mouth, pressing against his own. His hand finally goes under your shirt, the swiftest touch making your skin burn. He begins to trace lazy circles on your torso, the softest touch making you press your legs together. You almost forget how to breathe, making you pull away.
“I think we should move elsewhere,” you breathlessly say, your forehead pressing against Leon’s.
“Anywhere you want, doll.” He nods, taking his hand out of your shirt and taking a step back. He takes off the apron that you’ve given him, tossing it to the side before grabbing your hand and leading you to your room– It’s as if he knew the place like the back of his hand.
“Did I tell you just how beautiful you are?” Leon caresses your cheek before he kisses you again. Things get heated quickly, and before you know it, he’s lifting up your shirt and taking it off. His large hand goes to your back, undoing your bra with one swift movement. That’s when Leon’s attention shifts from your lips, and he kisses down to your breasts.
Wet lips fill your breasts with kisses before his tongue circles your nipple. His hand cups your tits, mouth wrapping around your nipple and sucking. Your breath gets caught up in your chest, and you’re damn near putty under his touch. When he feels like he’s given enough love to your tit, he moves to your other tit.
“Fuck!” you curse as the man bites down before pulling away. There’s a look of mischief in his eyes, and before you can even scold him, he kisses you again. He’s pushing you onto the bed until you finally take a seat.
“You’ve got the cutest tits.” He kisses them again, not daring to bite down on the soft flesh again even though it’s so tempting.
“I need to taste you, sweetheart.” He’s desperately trying to unbutton your pants, but his fingers don’t seem dexterous enough. “Fuck, help me.”
You do as he wants, unbuttoning your pants and taking them off. A task that’s so easy yet seems impossible today. The denim sticks to your thighs and takes a lot of effort to take off. But you finally succeed. He lets out a low laugh at the design of the panties before saying, “Cute panties.”
“I also bite,” you warn him, and he hums in response. He smiles at you before getting on his knees and spreading your legs and staring at your panties. He can’t even bring himself to push them to the side before he buries his face between them, pressing his lips against them. He slides his tongue down your panties, managing to send a jolt down your body. He isn’t even properly touching you, and he’s getting a reaction out of you.
“Leon, please.” Your voice sounds pathetic but you want to feel him without anything in between. You need to feel his tongue on your pussy. He listens, pulling down your panties. His eyes glisten and his mouth begins to water at the mere sight in front of him. He never thought he’d get this far but today is his lucky day.
“I haven’t even done anything to you yet.” There’s a smirk on his face as he runs two fingers through your folds, gathering your slick with the sole purpose of showing it to you. “You’re so wet for me, doll.”
“Shut up and just–” You can’t bring yourself to actually say it. But he understands. He presses a kiss to your bare cunt before his tongue runs down your pussy. A soft moan leaves your lips as his tongue swipes up and down your pussy.
“Fuck– There. Right there,” you whisper, almost as if you were scared that someone might catch you. His tongue flicks your clit, going just at the right pace. Just by the looks of it, you would have expected to know the ins and outs of the female anatomical system, but you didn’t expect him to be so quick with it. You know guys your age typically have a hard time getting to that spot– At least the ones that manage to get thus far with you.
You shut your eyes, slowly getting lost in the pleasure that he gives your body– And then you feel him run two fingers through your cunt, getting them wet with your own juices before pushing them in. You bite down your lip as the large fingers fill you up.
He’s humming against your pussy, the vibrations filling you with pleasure. He’s loving this just as much as you are, if not more. Who are you kidding? Leon is loving this much more than you. Your thighs are squeezing around him, and Leon can confidently say that he’s never been this happy before.
He curves his finger, hitting just the right spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of their head. Pleasure builds up within you, and it gets harder for you to contain yourself. You finally begin to moan the sweetest melody. It feels sinful for Leon to hear it with his very own ears.
“Leon, fuck, you’re doing so good,” you moan, throwing your head back as your orgasm builds up. Your hand goes to the back of his head, pulling him in closer as if it could be possible. It’s like you want to completely merge together.
It doesn’t take too long for your orgasm to wash over you, loudly moaning and chanting his name over and over again as if it was the only word you knew. The most beautiful sound to have ever grazed his ears. Leon keeps flicking your oversensitive clit, tongue running up and down your cunt until he’s finally satiated. When he lifts his head, his mouth and chin are coated with your juices and his own drool. That doesn’t stop him from getting off the floor and hungrily kissing you.
“You taste so good,” he tells you between kisses.
When he pulls away, you fall back on the bed completely. Leon stares at you with lustful eyes, ready to get his share. He unbuttons his pants with one hand, the other hand making sure your legs are kept spread and ready for him.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, knowing that you want this more than anything. Leon simply wants to hear you beg. Is that so bad? He’s already heard you beg once, his ears need to hear it at least once more. You nod, but that isn’t enough for him. “Beg for it.”
“Please, Leon. I need to feel you inside of me.” You normally wouldn’t give in so easily, but you need to feel– Your eyes widen as he drops his briefs, revealing his erect cock. You bite down your lip before you continue begging. Saying you needed him before was an understatement. “Please, I need you Leon. So so bad.”
“I’ll give you the whole world if that’s what you want,” he answers, finally giving in. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly sliding inside of you. He stretches you out, and when he finally bottoms out he gives you a second before he begins to move. Soft moans leave your lips as he gives slow, gentle thrusts.
He leans down, kissing you and drowning out the moans that leave your lips. It gives your hands the opportunity to go to his back, nails digging in and marking him. Scratches that if he could, he’d show off as some sort of trophy.
“You feel so perfect around me,” he groans into your ear, slowly getting lost inside of you. He’s imagined this type of encounter a thousand times and none have ever come close to how good it actually is. It’s truly surreal.
“Right there, Leon,” you moan, your back arching as his cock hits just the right spot. His hand goes down to play with your clit again, making your cunt squeeze around him. He moans your name as his thrusts get faster and faster.
He keeps his eye on you, making sure that you enjoy every second just as he is. He’ll make sure this isn’t a one time thing, even though you might claim it is. Within a week you’ll be knocking on his door, begging for more.
“You’ve got the sweetest little pussy, sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear, melting you into a puddle. His cock hits every right spot, he knows how to make you forget your entire being.
“You’re fucking me so good, Leon.” You feel yourself close again even if you’re still sensitive from the last one. It’s almost as if your body is his own, like he knows you better than you know yourself.
“Leon, I’m gonna–” you begin, but before you can get the proper sentence out you reach that climax that was looming over. Your legs spasm and you gush, making a mess all over him. A mess that leaves him wide-eyed but shortly followed by a prideful laugh. He made you squirt.
“Is it that good, doll? Did you have to shower me with the mess?” he teases, and you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t in a state of euphoria.
He feels his breath get caught in his chest, slowly losing the control that he first stated. He wishes he could spend the rest of eternity buried inside of you, but it seems that his body is giving out. He asks, “Can I–”
“Inside,” you command, and who is Leon to ignore your wishes? He gives a couple more thrusts before he moans your name, throwing his head back as he releases his warm cum inside of you. He completely makes a mess out of you, giving a couple more thrusts before pulling out.
He stares at the mess he’s made. Both you and the bed. Truth be told, he couldn’t be prouder.
He lays down beside you, on the side of the bed that’s still nice and dry, staring as you come down off the cloud that he’s put you on. He smirks, proud.
“Good job,” he praises, hand attempting to caress your arm, and you look at him and give him a sheepish smile.
“You fuck good for an old man,” you answer, and Leon laughs. Whatever happened to the shy neighbor who could barely make eye contact.
“You fuck good. Period.”
“Great, now I have to change my bedsheets.” You sit up, looking at the mess that you’ve managed to make on the bed. The wise move would have been getting a towel.
You look at Leon. “At least you’ll help with the cheesecake.”
“About that… I don’t know how to make a cheesecake,” he answers, making you furrow your brows. “I hope that’s not a dealbreaker for when I try to take you on a date.”
You simply sigh.
“Get your shirt from the dryer and go back to your apartment– Matter of fact, help me change the bedsheets, get your shirt, and get out.”