Bobby's Surprise

"God damn it, Robert Johnson Junior," my next-door neighbor gasped as my cock popped out her lips. "If you don't put it in me right now I swear I'm going to kill you."

It was a hot, bright August afternoon, and we were both filmed with a sheen of sweat, but the air in the bedroom was suddenly cold on my spit-slicked erection, and the washes of warmth over the underside of my cock from her ragged breathing sent a shiver through me. I needed her heat maybe even more than her words had told me she wanted mine, but still I paused to savor that delicious moment of anticipation.

Her calling me by my full name was a reminder of our southern heritage, a usage pretty much abandoned now in the twenty-first century, but one that harked back to days long gone, when life moved at a slower pace and time stretched endlessly before us. When it seemed it was always summer, and the evenings eased imperceptibly into night and we had all the time in the world.

I looked down at her, at her black hair spread over the pillow and her dark eyes shining even through their half-closed lids. I leaned forward and kissed her blood-filled lips before pulling back and inching down along her body. My balls dragged through the perspiration on her breasts and I stopped to revel in the sight of my hard-on slipping through the valley between them.

She raised her head to watch with me. She rested her hands loosely on my thighs, and her voice was almost lazy when she spoke again.

"You know, Bobby, yours is the first one I ever saw, but it's still the most beautiful one in the world." Her hands came up and squeezed her breasts tight around me, and this time my shiver didn't have anything to do with the temperature.

It took me a moment to fight down my excitement, but I had to tease her. "The most beautiful what?" Southern women are masters of euphemism, and I wondered what she'd say.

She leaned forward and her tongue traced along the underside of my dick. She laid a sloppy kiss on the shining head. Then she settled back and gave me her killer smile.

"You're wasting time, Bobby."

"Oh, sorry," I told her as I continued down and lifted her hips and rested the tip of my cock at her entrance. She thrust herself up at me, but I held her down with my hands on her thighs.

"The most beautiful what?"

"You bastard," she grunted as she twisted against me.

I wasn't certain I had the will-power to play this game out, but just before I pushed into her she smiled and said,

"Robert Johnson Junior, you have the most beautiful cock in the world."

Then her sleek white calves were locked around my waist and I was plunging into her and looking down at her clenched eyes. Her long black lashes fluttered against her cheek-bones, and her mouth puffed open in little "oh's" with each thrust.

When the "oh's" became audible, her eyes opened and bored into mine. I thought I'd never seen anything more thrilling than the love and lust I saw there. The "oh's" turned into "hunh's", and we came.

I was lying on my side, trickling my fingers through the sweat between her breasts. "The most beautiful in the world? Really" I asked her.

"I just said that to get you to quit fucking around."

"Or to get me to start fucking around."

She turned to me and her black eyes lit up. "Or that."

It had always been that way. When she looked at me, really looked at me, I died. But only if dying makes you feel more alive than ever before.

We moved together and her leg was sliding over me and her lips were brushing mine. We both smiled at the same time, and somebody's tongue found somebody else's. I had her long dark hair wrapped in my hands and she had her long pale legs wrapped around me. We were both gasping for breath, hands all over each other, when she pulled away and stood up.

"I'd better go."

"You know, if you wanted to kill me, you're doing a good job."

"I'd have to get in line if Marie came home and saw us like this." She grinned at me and bent to pick up her clothes, but my heart pounded thinking about my wife catching us.

"Yeah. Or Anthony."

Her smile disappeared and she didn't say anything before she was fully dressed.

"You don't even want to think about it," she said finally. Her eyes were dark again, the lust drained out of them.

"But you know, if there was ever some ass-hole you wanted to kill, Anthony would be your man."

I didn't know what to say to that, and I just let her go back home.

It wasn't the first time I didn't understand what my sister was getting at.