Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
My new neighbor moved in the other day. I watched him struggle with a massive sectional sofa for an embarrassing amount of time before approaching him. I wanted him sweaty and a little out of breath. My initial move was classic because it’s always effective: the overly dramatic “lost valuable” scam. For the purposes of “research” (research, being specifically for my wet, throbbing pussy of course), I dramatically misplaced my favorite, irreplaceable, and currently non-existent diamond earring somewhere near his threshold.
“Oh, sir! I’m so dreadfully sorry, but I think the heirloom my great-grandmother gifted me has rolled under your welcome mat!” He immediately stopped struggling with the sofa and scrambled to help me search, completely missing the fact that my entire body language was screaming, “Forget the the diamond, let’s just make poor choices immediately with our clothes off.”
My new neighbor moved in the other day
The frantic search for the non-existent diamond earring charade led to an offer of “compensatory iced tea” on my part. Of course, this was a beverage I served while wearing a vintage band t-shirt that had mysteriously shrunk in the wash to the size of a tea towel and some very suspicious, poorly tied pajama shorts that provided approximately zero ass coverage.
As he politely sipped the tea, clearly trying to focus on the conversation instead of my attire (or lack thereof), I accidentally-on-purpose tripped over a throw rug, managing to land dramatically in his lap while simultaneously knocking the tea cup out of his hand. This resulted in lukewarm liquid splashing directly onto the front of his (now slightly damp) jeans. This prompted me to spring up instantly. I apologized profusely while vigorously blotting the spill with the corner of my shirt, leaning in just close enough to whisper, “Oh dear…perhaps we should just take these shorts off and wring them out in the kitchen, just in case?”
He managed a slightly bewildered laugh that told me he was trying incredibly hard to remain a decent human being. “Ms. Cory,” he said, wiping his handsome, slightly flustered face with his sleeve. The internal struggle he was experiencing was palpable; I could practically hear the tiny, responsible voice in his head screaming about the need to unpack the silverware and sign up for neighborhood watch, while the rest of his body was clearly voting for immediate anarchy instead.
He stared at me, then down at the wet patch on his jeans, then back at me. A slow, agonizing smile finally spread across his face. “You know, I did spend two hours wrestling with a bookshelf that turned out to be missing the crucial stabilizing screws…and I almost lost an eye,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I deserve a reward for that sort of physical and emotional trauma.”
I grabbed his wrist with unnecessary force and yanked him across the threshold, practically dragging him to the bedroom. “Excellent,” I breathed, shutting his door with a satisfying, slightly aggressive slam. And just like that, the handsome new neighbor, whose name I made a mental note to confirm later (though I fleetingly thought it was maybe Brandon, or perhaps Bartholomew), went from strangers to…well, naked strangers. Naked strangers who had fucked.
As I slipped out an hour later, leaving him dizzy and disheveled next to a stack of moving blankets, I made sure to grab my (still entirely non-existent) diamond earring from his welcome mat while shouting over my shoulder, “See you later, neighbor!”
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
https://phonesexcandy.com/cory