Page 8 of Twice Driven


  I guess part of me wished that it wasn't me bent over that lawn chair with Jake holding my hips and pumping me full of his cock. But that didn't mean I couldn't be totally turned on and dripping wet just watching it happen like some sort of voyeur.

  And before I knew it, the burning desire from earlier that I’d stopped came rushing back. I moaned as I felt my pussy throb inside my panties as my arousal quickly began to dampen the inside of them while I watched the Hardings in their backyard. I knelt on the ground by my back window, peering over the sill at my hunky neighbor fucking his wife and letting the sounds of their love-making wash over me as I eagerly pushed my fingers back into my panties and slid them wetly over my tight little slit.

  They were facing me at sort of an angle out there in the backyard. From my vantage point, I could see Lenore's face scrunched up with passion as her gorgeous husband gripped her tightly by the hips and pushed into her again and again. Her breasts were much larger than my small little cups, and they swayed heavily beneath her as Jake's hands gripped her ass tightly and fucked her with deep strokes.

  His glistening chest rippled in the moonlight, and I moaned into my hand as the fingers from my other slipped into my tight channel, imaging it was his cock pushing into me from behind. I was rubbing my clit with my thumb as two of my fingers rhythmically pushed in and out of my wet slit, trying to time my stroking in tune with Jake's thrusting across the yard.

  I'd been close before, back in my bed with my fantasy. And as I masturbated right there, hiding in my bedroom and watching my neighbors making love in their backyard, I could already feel myself close to coming. I started to finger my pussy harder and harder as Jake's pace picked up as well. I could see his jaw gritting tightly and the heavy concentration in his eyes as he rocked his hips back and forth.

  "Oh fuck yes baby! Come inside me! Shoot your cum and fill me up Jake! Fuck your cum into me and put a baby inside of me! Make me pregnant!"

  Like a rocket, that did it - for both of us, apparently. I bit my hand hard as my own orgasm began to clench and ripple through me, but I forced myself to keep my eyes open and watch as Jake's face did the same. He let out a heavy grunt, and with a final, powerful thrust, he slammed forward into Lenore. He roared, and I knew he was coming right along with me! My own body clenched and convulsed, my tight pussy seizing up around my fingers as I bit my hand hard trying not to scream as I came.

  As I came down, I suddenly gasped again as Jake slipped wetly out of his wife, and his thick, throbbing, glistening dick bobbed into view.

  Oh my God.

  I mean, I'd never really seen a penis before, aside from spying on my friend Jenna's older brother in the shower years ago, or the few glimpses of porn I'd seen. But I knew enough to know that the thick, gorgeous looking cock jutting out from Mr. Harding's muscled abdomen was decidedly enormous.

  There was nothing following their lovemaking. No cuddling, not even a kiss. Jake was still panting and pushing his fingers through his hair when Lenore quickly got up from the chair, brushed her knees off, and went inside. I frowned as I watched Mr. Harding shake his head and mutter something before he followed her inside.

  After that, I slumped back into my bed to grin and blush to myself about what I'd just seen.

  "Put a baby inside of me! Make me pregnant."

  Why was it that line in particular that had pushed me over the edge? It was like just hearing that from Mrs. Harding's lips had sent me crashing right into my orgasm, as if just imagining Jake making her pregnant like that right in front of me has made me come.

  It was so hot, in fact, that I actually fingered my still buzzing slit into another mini-orgasm right there in my bed just thinking about it before I finally drifted off to naughty dreams that night.

  Chapter 3

  Jake

  This was going to be a real fucking problem.

  It’d been one of those days with Lenore. Hell, it’d been one of those weeks, or hell, those years with her. We just...shit, I don’t know. We didn’t work anymore; at all. It’d gotten to the point where I honestly wasn’t sure why she’d ever married me, or I her for that matter. Her father, I suppose, and the job he landed me with the U-Miami football devision before I went free agent as a recruitment consultant. Seems like a silly reason to have married into the family, but the more I thought about it, the more I’m pretty sure that was it. I got the job, she got stability and the little cookie-cutter life she wanted.

  Of course, I was anything but cookie-cutter, especially after the Navy and after my time on the road in the pro leagues. I was not white picket fence guy, or pot-luck dinner with the neighbors guy, or hell, a marriage guy.

  But hey, here we were, and where that was, I wasn’t even sure anymore. I don’t think she did, either.

  And then we have things like the BBQ early that day, and the whole storm of “what the fuck” that came with it. A whole shit-storm of confusion and roaring hormones like I was some kind of teenager again. And that storm had a name:

  Chelsea McKenzie.

  I mean Jesus fuck, when had that girl— no, woman - when had she become a woman? And when the hell had she gotten so hot? It was almost criminal is what it was; almost literally, actually. But somehow, right next door, cute little Chelsea McKenzie had gotten jailbait hot, and that was a problem.

  It wasn’t like she’d suddenly grown tits or anything, or wild curves like some men go for. I mean shit, she was still rail-thin, with small tits and tiny little ass I could probably palm with one hand. But somehow, she was womanly in her litheness; all soft, demure curves and soft swells, like some sort of runway model without all the bullshit attitude. Actually, the way she carried herself was like she didn’t even know how hot she’d gotten; how fucking tempting she’d turned. She was light, and youthful, but then there was something so much more adult about her. She was smart as a whip, and she read intelligent, nerdy things like Isaac Asmiov for fucks sake. She was a total nerd in a sense, of course, but there was something about that girl that got me hard as fucking stone. She’d somehow gotten herself hot, and hot in a way where she sure as shit didn’t know it.

  But, I sure knew it, and that was the problem.

  It hadn’t happened overnight, I knew that. I’d slowly started eyeing her in ways I seriously shouldn’t have ever since she’d turned eighteen, and not in a creeper way, just in this “you can’t help but see it” way. I’m only a man for fuck’s sake. But it’d been seeing her at that BBQ that had really hammered things in.

  And I really shouldn’t have hugger her, that’s for damn sure. The feel of her warm body and her soft skin under my hands, the way she giggled into me and the way her whole face lit up with that hug. I mean, Jesus, I was like some sort of horny high school boy with a damn boner and a crush; tied up in a way I really wasn’t used to when it came to women.

  So that’s where my damn head was, standing in the buff in my backyard after Lenore had gone back inside. I knew we probably shouldn’t have been outside doing that, and that I should probably have had some fucking pants on at that point, but I stayed another minute, letting the thoughts percolate.

  Lenore had taken my moodiness that night as being in that kind of a mood, and then my hard-on thinking about Chelsea McKenzie as something else.

  “Oh, good, we can try tonight.”

  The baby. Jesus, the baby we “had” to have, according to her parents. Like this was some sort of feudal land and we needed an “heir” to carry on the the name and title or something. I mean this was Florida for fucks sake, not King Arthur.

  It was the baby neither of us wanted to have; at least, not with the other. Hell, I’d have loved to be a father. I’d wanted to be one for years, and getting married had probably had a bit to do with that, at least subconsciously. But with Lenore? Her, a mother? No fucking way; not a chance. It was laughable if you’d met her for even five minutes; the woman didn’t have a warm bone in her whole body.

  And I don’t know what had possessed us to be outside like
that that night. Too hot, too much wine, a last shot at trying to make things hot and romantic maybe? But there was no romance, no seduction with this woman; anymore, or ever before, actually. With her that night it was pajama pants off, bending over chair and turning to just say “Do it, Jake.” And she wasn’t not bending over to be sexy, she was doing it because - well, my guess is because she didn’t want to look at me. She just wanted the act, and the result, and that’s all.

  Welcome to life at forty, Jake Hardy.

  And then it was done, as fast as both of us could make it. She left and I was sitting there with my cock out under the night sky getting hard all over again thinking about my barely legal, next door neighbor. My buddy’s daughter.

  Chelsea.

  Fuck. Like I said, this was going to be a problem. Thank God she was about to go away to school, I guess. Out of sight, and out of mind, and I could just go on with my strange, unsatisfying life.

  Chapter 4

  Chelsea

  Two weeks later, I was off to school a thousand miles away. I'd only seen Mr. Harding a handful of times since the night of my birthday, though every time, I'd blushed and stammered even more around him. I couldn't even look his wife Lenore in the eye when they'd come over for dinner a few days before I left, in fact.

  School was tough, and definitely kept me busy. It was also another whole world entirely from the small town I'd come from. Where I'd been gawky, a little shy, and thought of myself as an outsider back home, at school, I seemed to come into my own almost right from the start! I’d gotten my braces off right before I left, and within weeks, I was also taking the time to style my hair a little better in the mornings, I’d started buying clothes that flattered instead of hid my slender, not-very-curvy frame, and even started making a point of trying to be social with people! It wasn't that I was changing who I was in any sort of bad way, I was just finally realizing who I was and what I was capable of.

  There were boys, of course; especially when I'd started to dress better and go out to social events. And it was flattering, and exciting to suddenly have real male attention for the first time in my life. But as ardent and as tempting as some of those boys were, I kept thinking of them as just that; boys. In my head, and in my heart, there was still only one man I wanted, even if he was more than a thousand miles away; and married, and my dad's best friend and neighbor.

  Man, talk about a stacked deck.

  But still, I pined for Jake Harding all those nights away at school. Sure, I went on dates, and I even had a few quite hot and heavy nights of making out with a few boys. But it never went further than that, I made sure. Ok, so there was a teeny bit of schoolgirl crush left in me for Jake, but it's not like I was saving myself for him or anything. It's just that none of the other guys I met at school did it for me like, well, Jake had.

  And so I went through the first semester like that; a couple hot, steamy make-out dates, followed by many a night of me quietly fingering my tight slit to a clenching, seizing orgasm while my roommate snored across the room, or while I locked myself in the shower stall.

  And I thought of Jake, and that big beautiful cock of his every single time.

  As time went on, another thought slowly began to take root in my head. As I kept saying no to boys, and as my own confidence kept growing, I knew that really, there was only one man I wanted to give that special gift to. It became all I thought about, my every and only fantasy. I knew then that as improbable as it was - as crazy of any idea as it was - I wanted my first time to be with Mr. Harding; older man, married man, neighbor, and best friend to my father.

  Now, how on earth I'd possible get that to happen was another story, and so for then, it was just the fantasy.

  *****

  "Oh! We forgot to tell you the news, Chelsea!" My mom added quickly, right as I was about to hang up the phone.

  "Jake and Lenore are expecting a baby!"

  I froze on the edge of my small little dorm room bed as the words came through the receiver. I could feel that now familiar feeling of paralyzing and heart-sinking jealous mixing with a deep, groaning needy throb in my pussy whenever I thought of the two of them hitting me hard.

  "Oh?" I managed to croak out. "How long-"

  "Just about three and a half months; isn't that exciting?!"

  I did the math quickly in my head and my jaw dropped right there. Three and a half months was the end of August.

  No way! I shook my head to myself. There was just no way I'd managed to watch them the very night they'd gotten pregnant...

  ...Had I?

  The thought made my whole body buzz with a strange sort of lustful excitement. On the one side, if Jake and Lenore were having a baby, that was really the end of my silly little day-dream fantasies of running away with Jake, and that sort of stung. But on the other hand, the idea that I may have literally watched Jake shoot his cum into his wife and impregnate her right in front of my eyes that night had my body tingling all over.

  *****

  Winter break rolled around and I was heading back home for the holidays. Gone was the gawky, geeky, fumbling skinny kid. Instead, when I stepped off the train back into the muggy Florida heat of being home, I was a whole new girl.

  Even Dennis, my annoying little shit of a brother complimented me in his own way.

  "Wow, you don't look like a homeless girl anymore, Chelsea.”

  Thanks, Dennis.

  My mom and dad were of course a lot more fussy over me about my new haircut, the nicer way I was dressing, and even the more confident way I carried myself as we ate dinner that night at our favorite family spot on the way home from the train station.

  "Oh, you don't have to say a thing honey" my mother had gushed to me across the table. She'd leaned over and winked at me conspiratorially. “I bet it's a boy, isn't it?"

  Hmm, well, sort of.

  "Well I want to meet this kid then, and make sure he's treating my daughter like the lady she is then!" My dad piped up, grinning.

  The whole train-ride home, I'd been thinking about seeing Mr. Harding again for the first time in months. Even now, so many months later, I could still perfectly picture his naked, muscled body as he pumped his wife full of his thick cock and his potent cum out there in the backyard. I'd actually started to put it out of my head at dinner; that was, until my mom brought me right back to it.

  “So, uh, how are the Hardings?”

  “Oh, that poor man!” My mom put her fork down and shook her head. “I guess we completely forgot to tell you, Chelsea.” She and my dad shared a look before she turned back. “Jake and Lenore are...separating for a little while.”

  I was aware of more words coming out of people’s mouths, but I was very suddenly in my own head somewhere. All of a sudden, every single inappropriate little fantasy I’d ever had about Jake Hardy and pushed to the back of my mind came roaring up to the foreground. Every single school-girl fantasy of “running away” with the handsome older man next door were suddenly just a little closer to my outstretched fingers.

  Suddenly, I frowned, my fork still halfway between my plate and my mouth. “Wait, weren’t they going to have a baby?”

  My dad muttered something under his breath and my mom just shook her head. “Well, Lenore is having a baby-”

  “She stepped out on the poor guy is what happened,” my dad said through clenched teeth, shaking his head. “Poor son of a bitch.”

  “Michael!” My mom raised her eyebrows at my dad before turning back to me. “Well, I don’t want to gossip, but word around the neighborhood is it was a work thing. The whole thing came out when she had to admit the baby wasn’t Jakes.”

  It felt like my whole world was shaking up around me. Here I was, a new girl, with a new spring in her step and a new view of the world. And I come home for winter break to find the impossible man next door was just a little bit less impossible.

  Just a little bit, at least.