Stuck on You (Masturbation Monday #248)

I'd initially planned this story for the Wicked Wednesday "Laughter" prompt, but I didn't finish it in time. So now it's an early Masturbation Monday post, which coincidentally also works with the prompt.

I got this idea from a conversation during Smummit 2—the smut summit of the Sisters in Smut, of which I'm now a proud member. A discussion with Jayne Renault and a few others about "stuck" porn inspired this erotic silliness.

For anyone thinking this story is completely unrealistic, let me just say that I once accidentally locked myself in a closet. If it could happen to anyone, it could definitely happen to me. Just sayin'.

Oh, and the Jackhuahua mentioned in the story was inspired by a Jack Russell/Chihuahua mix named Cocoa owned by the lovely couple that hosted me during Smummit 2.

Yes, I know it's a little long. This one required a little more set-up. I'll happily take the spanking.

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Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)

Website: http://www.riarestrepo.com

Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

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Stuck on You

By Ria Restrepo

Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

It all started with a very naughty plan to get the attention the smokin' hot guy next door—which then took an unexpected turn.

Since he moved in, I'd been lusting after him. We'd see each other in passing, coming and going from our homes. Apart from some smiles, waves, and lame attempts at flirting on my part, we hadn't exchanged more than a few words.

But almost every night, I sat out on my patio, listening to him playing his guitar and singing in a panty-drenching voice. There was a tall, wooden privacy fence separating our small backyards, so he didn't know about my eavesdropping—at least, I didn't think so.

If I'm honest, there were times when he sang a sultry song that I got so aroused I couldn't resist slipping my hand down inside my shorts and rubbing my horny cunt. I drew blood more than once biting my lip as I came, trying to stay completely silent.

So, in my sometimes proactive fashion, I decided to go after what I wanted. I needed to make him see me as a sexy seductive siren instead of the quiet, geeky neighbor girl. My crazy plan involved spending way too much money on frilly, lacy lingerie I rarely wore.

Home with my assortment of bras and panties, I removed the tags and dumped them all in the bathroom sink. After thoroughly wetting them, I squeezed out the excess water until they were only mildly damp. Then I carried them to the backyard and draped them on the fence so they provocatively hung over his side.

As I was placing the last bra, a wild gust of wind blew through, caught the rather large cups, and carried it well into his yard.

"Shit!"

I climbed onto a planter and looked over the fence. The delicate blue confection was laying as bold as could be in the middle of his lawn—completely out of my reach.

Okay, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe it was a fortuitous event after all. He'd find it, see the other lingerie strewn on the fence, then kindly return the bra. Of course, I'd be endearingly embarrassed and invite him in for coffee to show my gratitude—again, and again, and oh god yes, again.

While I was lost in my illicit fantasy, getting wetter by the second, I failed to notice his dog emerge from the house. A streak of beige charging for my bra finally broke through my erotic reverie. The Jackhuahua named Clemente circled the foreign object invading his turf, thoroughly sniffing it.

I slapped the side of the fence. "Shoo! Leave that alone."

The dog looked up a me and cocked his head.

"That's right. Now go back inside like a good boy."

Apparently, he had other ideas. He snatched up my bra and shook his head like a shark in a feeding frenzy, snarling at the inanimate beast he was determined to destroy.

"No! Bad dog! Stop that!"

Fuck! That was a hundred dollars worth of Chantilly lace and torturous underwire guaranteed to provide just the right amount of lift and support, molding my cleavage to perfection! By the time the dog got done with it, my hunky neighbor wouldn't recognize the remains.

Thinking fast, I ran through my side gate, praying his gate was unlocked. It was, so I trespassed without a second thought. His car hadn't been in his driveway when I came home and I hoped he stayed away long enough for me to retrieve the bra.

When I got into his yard, Clemente led me on a merry chase, obviously thinking this was the best game ever. Just as I was about to swoop down and grab him, he darted into the house through the doggy door.

"Son of a bitch!" Literally!

I tried the back door, but of course it was locked. Kneeling down, the doormat thankfully saving my bare knees, I pushed open the flap and looked inside. Clemente stood a few feet inside the kitchen looking back at me.

Adopting a sugary sweet voice, I said, "Good doggy. Come here and give me the pretty bra, and I'll give you something yummy instead."

He tilted his head again, but stayed right where he was, my bra clamped tightly between his teeth.

With a sigh, I blindly reached a hand inside, but couldn't feel anything but cold tile. My arm still through the doggy door, I turned slightly and pushed my head in to see where the dog was. He took a step back, but I lunged forward as far as I could and snagged the end of my bra.

Briefly triumphant, I pulled, hoping Clemente would release it. I should have known better. He leaned back, planting his little feet, and jerked his head from side to side. Apparently, he thought I'd started a new game of tug-of-war.

At first, I just held on, but then I heard the delicate fabric begin to give way, so I let go. Clemente fell back on his rump, but then was quickly on his feet again, prancing around, celebrating his victory.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I heard the sound of a car pulling up and a car door slam. Cursing under my breath, I tried backing out of the hole, but I was stuck. My one arm was partially jammed through the doggy door, so I slid forward until my other hand was also resting on the floor inside.

Again, I tried going back out, but no matter how I twisted and turned, I couldn't get through. Between my shoulders and breasts, I couldn't find the right angle that would free me from the tight opening. For the first time in my life, I wished for smaller tits.

Hearing his master, Clemente ran for the front door, his prize still clenched between his teeth.

"Hey, Clem, whatcha got there?"

On my hands and knees, half in and out of the doggy door, I squeezed my eyes shut and awaited the inevitable.

I heard a low whistle, then, "Where'd you get this, buddy?"

The rapid clicking of dog nails on the floor grew closer, followed by the louder thud of human footsteps. There was a moment of complete silence, then a rich peal of masculine laughter erupted.

As humiliating as the situation was, the sound of his amusement had a surprising effect on me. A delicious warmth unfurled low in my belly and lit me up from the inside out.

When I looked up, I saw he was slightly bent over, his hands braced on his thighs. He met my gaze, his glittering blue eyes and wide grin making his already handsome face positively devastating. The alluring heat racing through my veins burned a little hotter.

"Oh, man." He straightened and ran a hand over his face. "Aren't cat-burglars supposed to work at night?"

I sighed, then explained what had happened—leaving out the part about my planned seduction.

"Okay, let's see about getting you out of there." He walked up to me and held out his hands. "Give me your hands."

"I don't think that's going to work," I said even as I placed my hands in his, enjoying the warm, rough feel of them much more than I probably should have in that moment.

He tried pulling me through, but it just wouldn't work.

I let go and put my hands back on the floor. "My hips are too wide."

"Your hips are perfect. The opening is too narrow."

That distinction filled me with delight and poured gasoline on my smoldering desire.

"I'll go around back and try to get you out that way." As he turned and walked out of the kitchen, he added, "Stay there."

"Seriously?" I called after him. Where the hell was I going?

I heard him chuckling as he walked out the front door and couldn't help smiling despite my awkward predicament. Clemente followed after him, disappearing from sight.

A few moments passed, then I heard him groan. "Fuck."

"What's wrong?"

He cleared his throat. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

That's when I realized the picture I must have made. I knew my short skirt had risen up my backside since it felt awfully drafty back there. My simple cotton thong hardly covered anything, so he was surely getting an eyeful of my round ass.

"I'm going to have to get a little familiar here. Is that alright?"

I almost said, Yes, please, but caught myself at the last second. "It's okay. Do whatever you have to."

I felt him get down behind me and lean over to reach inside the doggy door to guide my torso out of the hole. His hand brushed my already taut nipple, sending enticing shivers streaking across my flesh. He hesitated for a second and I wondered if he noticed.

The warmth of his body covering mine, the feel of his jeans along my bare legs, and the slight weight of his chest on my back spiked my arousal even higher. My heart pounded in my chest and my breathing quickened. I was in such a vulnerable position, completely at his mercy. It should have made me nervous and uncomfortable. Instead, raw excitement surged throughout my body, flooding my sex with liquid desire.

He grabbed my shoulder, turning me slightly, and pulled back. In the process, my hip brushed against his groin, causing him to suck in a breath and freeze.

Was he turned on by this strange situation too?

That thought made me even hotter and I had to know for sure—so I did it again, slowly and more deliberately.

Oh yes, there was definitely something long and firm prodding my ass check.

His grip on me tightened and something thudded against the door—his head probably. "Stay still."

"I'm just trying to help."

Biting my lip, I blatantly ground my ass into his groin.

A rumbling sound reverberated through the door. "If you keep that up, I'm going to do what I've fantasized since I moved in."

Now that sounded promising.

"If it's anything like what I've been fantasizing about you, then please, go ahead."

"Fuck it!" The hand on my shoulder slid down to cup my breast. "You have amazing tits."

I moaned as he fondled my breast, then gasped when he took my nipple between his fingers and lightly squeezed. The whole time, I steadily rocked my hips, stroking his hard-on through his jeans.

He groaned again, then used his free hand to push my skirt up to my waist. His fingers traced the line of my thong over my asshole down to my drenched pussy. When he slid his fingers between my cunt lips, he moaned. "You're so fucking wet."

I couldn't take it anymore. I needed him inside me. "Please, fuck me!"

"No, not yet. Not like this."

His fingers left me and I whimpered. But then I heard the familiar rasp of a zipper and held my breath in anticipation.

He slid my thong aside, and then I felt the thick, hot length of his cock nestled between my ass cheeks. I pressed myself back into him as he rocked his hips, fucking himself against my ass.

Taking pity on me, he slipped his fingers back between my slick folds. All the air left my lungs when he found my clit and started circling it—gently at first, then harder and faster as his thrusts sped up.

Waves of pleasure rippled throughout my body, quickly building until an intense orgasm overtook me. Still shaking from the aftershocks, I heard him grunt several times, then felt the warm wetness of his come shooting all over my backside.

We stayed like that for several moments, then he shifted away and kissed the center of my back. "Okay, now let's really get you out of there."

It took some maneuvering a contortionist would have been proud of, but finally I was out of the doggy door and standing in front of him.

He brushed a lock of hair out of my face. "There you go. All unstuck."

"Not exactly."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

I grinned at him. "I'm still stuck on you."