Work Text:
God, he probably looked stupid.
Mike's curiosity had been driving him crazy for the past month, ever since his new neighbor had moved in.
He had glimpses of the individual on the rare occasion they left their apartment to go check their PO box in the office downstairs, or sometimes head out for the evening, only returning many hours later in the middle of the night, somehow always waking Mike when he heard something hit the other side of his bedroom wall. He was positive that his neighbor's room was just on the other side of his own bedroom.
And, oh boy, did that thought never leave his mind.
Mostly because every time he jacked off, he wondered if his new neighbor could hear his bitchy little whines from the other side of the wall.
Even though he had only seen his neighbor a handful of times -- really only being a once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity -- even when he saw him, his head started to spin like he was freshly tipsy.
The only problem was, he couldn't tell if the person was a he or a she.
Not that it matters. They were so attractive Mike didn't care if it was a he or she. He just wanted to be theirs.
Ever since he saw the blonde aged individual moving in -- well, moving in was a generous way to put it. It was more like standing next to the apartment door and watching the attractive sweaty moving guys lift the heavy furniture up flights and flights of stairs, adding little injection of encouragement to their physically demanding task.
Mike couldn't stop playing the way they looked that day over and over in his head. The way their watchful eyes basically were undressing those guys. It was a little odd to say, but they were almost very presenting feminine. Feminine in that way older women are, and how they watch over people, always knowing what's best somehow.
His mind always went dirty after that, wondering if she thanked the men for their hard work in a way money could never equate to. Taking them into her new apartment and blowing them as a gesture of appreciation with her thick pink lips. Since none of the furniture was in it's correct location, or packed away in boxes, Mike wondered if they just pinned her down on the apartment buildings shitty hardwood floors and fucked her like the animals they were.
He would never do anything like that to her.
He couldn't stop his mind from jumping to the aftermath. Her laid flat on the floor, soft eyes looking up to them as they called her countless names that they heard other men use in degrading pornos. Leaving her to clean herself up after they were satisfied, her older body not taking it as well as it had in her younger years.
He always had to shake the thought out of his head as quickly as it would start, focusing on it too long would ruin his perfectly good erection that he had from the previous part of the fantasy. Even if that erection happened to be while he was at work, a horrible place to have a raging hard-on. If one of his coworkers looked down for just a second, his ass would break the world record for the fastest someone had been sent to HR.
But these fantasies were the only thing that got him through this boring fucking job.
The thought of going back to his apartment and maybe catching a glimpse of her leaving her apartment to go check her mail or just enjoy the day's sunshine was sometimes the only reason he wanted to make it through his day.
The longest they had ever spent together was the night Mike was coming home from work and they crossed paths in the elevator. Mike felt his heart fully stop when he ran around the corner to catch the elevator and saw her tattooed arm sticking out to stop the door.
It's moments like this that Mike believed there truly was a God.
It took her a second, but she eventually recognized him, the smile growing across her face.
"Oh- hey... Michael? Right?"
His name sounded gorgeous coming from her voice.
"Yes, but everyone just calls me Mike." Mike's eyes grew wide, stuttering out, "...but y-you can call me Michael, if you like that better!"
His neighbor laughed at his foolishness, shaking her head while trying to hide a wide smile.
"You're so cute honey.”
Mike's face burned painfully as blush spread like wildfire across his face. She gave him a nice smile before settling back to face the elevator doors, prompting Mike to do the same. It was only until she broke the silence again that he turned his wandering mind back to her.
"Hey, actually I wanted to ask you something. Do you work at an office?"
Mike would have told anyone else that it was obvious, or had been snarky about his daily attire of dress pants, a button down, and a tie was all just for fun, but that's not what came out of his mouth.
"Yes, I- I do."
"Oh, I'm sure that's quite nice."
Mike nodded.
The pause that filled the air between them afterwards made Mike want to tear his skin off. He could have done anything. Invited her over for an after-work drink. Asked her for her number. Even just asked how she was doing. But as he watched the doors open, and her wave goodbyes for the night, and watched the apartment door click shut. He couldn't think of anything worse.
Once he had shut his apartment door behind him, he slid down against it to the floor, burying his head into his hands.
"Fuck."
~~~
Stupid stupid stupid.
He stood outside his neighbor's apartment, hand raised in a ready knock. He was even holding flowers he had picked up right after work.
He had no idea what the end goal was here with all of this.
Laid would be nice. Not likely, but nice.
He had worked up the nerve all day to do this, was he going to tap out now?
Anything was better than spending one more night staring at his TV, drinking another after-work beer, jacking off, and then going to bed to wake up and do the whole process all over again. Jesus, he needed friends.
‘Just knock.’
His thoughts were trying to convince him, but something in him wouldn't let him. He barely knew this woman. There were so many things left blank on the get-to-know me side of things. For starters, he didn't even know this person's name. Secondly, he still had no idea on the gender. Third, the two had shared maybe ten conversations since they had moved in, so there was a high possibility that this made him look like her creepy young stalker.
That was another thing. She had to be almost double his age. Mike had just had his 24th birthday, and the individual was very clearly pushing 50.
Still, pretty hot for 50.
He started to hear the distant sound of movement inside the apartment, and in a blind panic, pounded a few knocks on the wooden door.
Immediately shocked by his own actions, he contemplated dropping the flowers and running back to his own door. His heart rate quickened when the movement sounded like it was approaching him, causing him to take a step back, quickly trying to make himself look presentable.
Pause.
A concerningly long pause...
The soft clicks of the dead bolts unlocking could finally be heard. The first real breath Mike had taken in minutes entered his lungs when the door swung open to reveal her; blonde overgrown hair tousled in every direction, black eye makeup smudged around her gorgeous green eyes, all framed behind a pair of black thick-lensed glasses.
Oh my God, she wore glasses.
Had he never noticed?
Why was that so attractive?
"Mike? How are you? Is everything alright?"
Of course now was the moment his brain was going to go completely blank and his mouth moved like it was full of sand.
"Uh-- perfect! So so good, um-- can I-- oh sh-- I-- I mean-- how are you?"
Jesus Christ, he was so fucking stupid.
However, he had apparently done something right, as her sudden laughter sounded as sweet as music filled the air between them.
"Oh, sweetheart. Come in. I take it you just got off of work? Maybe something to drink maybe?"
She opened the door wider for Mike to enter, pleasantly surprising him with how well put together her apartment was.
It was chic, and very well decorated. It was also expensive. Just telling from the quality of the furniture, the dim lighting, and little trinkets scattered about, she definitely had some money.
How? Mike had zero clue.
"Do you drink bourbon?"
Mike's focus regained at the mention of alcohol.
"At times. A small glass would be perfect, please."
She nodded as he toed off his shoes, slinking off to the kitchen to fetch him a drink. The apartment was insanely well decorated in comparison to Mike's. It was decorated in that way only those with a feminine eye for design could. Not like men, who just saw home decor through a necessity lens.
Mike wandered his way into the small kitchen, leaning against the countertop as the other flitted around fixing the drink. Mike felt his skin itch with questions he burned to ask now that he was in her home.
"May I ask, what's your name…ma'am...?"
The glass clattered against the granite countertop, followed by the other choking on her own saliva. She whipped around to face Mike, who was cowering like a puppy that got caught doing something it wasn't supposed to.
"Ma'am-! Jesus, I didn't know I passed that well."
Wiping her hands from the alcohol she had spilled on himself in her own surprise, but she continued through a laugh. "I can't believe I never said my name, I'm sorry sweetheart, I'm Billie."
Billie? Well that certainly didn't help the androgynous confusion.
Instead of saying that, what Mike did say was,
"That's a beautiful name.”
He wanted to ask Billie what she meant about the 'passing' comment, and had decided against it.
Afterall, it didn't matter to him.
"Careful, watch your head, I need to get above you here."
While Mike was contemplating the meaning of what Billie just told him, he hadn't even noticed that she had walked across the kitchen and cornered him against the countertop. She began to extend onto her tippy toes, reaching over Mike's head for something out of the many cabinets. Due to the height difference, Billie was now almost face to face with Mike. The smaller didn't seem to take anything odd with the situation, but that was before Billie felt something brush against his side which caused him to stop.
"Oh my goodness, you bought me flowers!?"
Mike, suddenly remembering the bouquet that was hanging from his grasp, offering it out like a shy child presenting their findings. She took it from him, reaching out to grasp his bicep as she inspected the color collection of flowers. He had no idea what flowers were her favorite, so he went for one that appeared to have the most variety in it.
She seemed to be really enthralled with his gift, leading him to wonder how many men before him had gotten her flowers. His guess was a much smaller number than a woman deserved.
"You really shouldn't have."
"Can I kiss you?”
Mike wished he could take a picture of the look Billie had given him. However, he was sure that a camera wouldn't have been able to capture the worlds he saw in the shorter man's eyes. Not the gorgeous breathless look she had when his long fingers moved to cup her jaw.
He moved ever so slowly, watching her carefully to make sure he didn't cross a single line.
He couldn't fuck this up.
But when she was the one that lurched forward, melting into his lips, he knew that she was more than comfortable with what was about to take place.
Something took over Mike. Something primal. His hand laid heavy on whatever part he could grab on her, obsessed with the way she would melt into his touch. He was driven to the brink of insanity when her tongue pushed into his lips.
With the way she was pressing into him against the counter, there was no way she couldn't feel his burning cock pushing against her hip. She could probably feel the heat of it, and the very clear imprint showing just how big he was.
Their make out session only continued for a few more seconds before she was pulling him down the hall, dropping and creating a mess of flowers across the kitchen floor and forgotten liquor.
He was drugged into what he quickly assumed was Billie's room. It was delicately ordained, just as he had imagined it. Everything was so... adult about her. She wasn't some twenty-something year old taking Mike home from the bar after work to her apartment which she shared with two other girls, often making him like an illegal good from the way he would be smuggled in.
She didn't have the same furniture every girl seemed to have, leading him to believe girls his age just shopped at the same place, influenced to buy the same things.
She had a plethora of furniture that looked extremely expensive -- appearing that way due to the detail that could be noticed the longer he stared at every item.
The bed frame was made out of real wood, not a shitty fake plywood like Mike's. The lamps made of real glass, gorgeous detailing just visible from where Mike was standing.
What caught Mike's eyes was the collection of guitars hanging from her wall. It felt so out of place in the room, too young for its surroundings. But it fit. It just did.
Billie had a dark and comfortable style, truly her own. It felt so personal to see someone who was just themselves like this, feeling original, different.
Billie's soft laughter could be heard behind Mike, snapping him back from his moments of observation. Walking towards him, her hands found the sides of his face before wrapping up into his bleach blonde hair. Embarrassingly enough, Mike let out a whine at the accidental pulling Billie's fingers were doing.
Mike was glad he had managed to keep his eyes open, because the look Billie's face shifted into would stick with him forever.
She became predatory.
The slightest hint of submission out of Mike, and Billie was going to chase that possibility like a hunter. His pulls grew harder, ravishing in the way Mike's eyes started to drift out of focus from the sensation.
"Oh, sweet boy, does mommy's touch hurt?"
If Mike could cum from words alone, he would have right then. Mommy? That was a side of him he didn't know existed, but he was glad he figured it out because it only made him achingly hard.
His hips acted on their own, bucking up for any attempt to find her touch. He wanted nothing more than to have her wrap her delicate fingers around him and carry it on for hours, all while telling him how he was hers, and hers alone.
Only in Mike's perfect world would he get to live out the fantasies that had been in his head since he was a hormonal teenager. If he could have it his way, he would be waiting night and day on her. It was dirty and perverted, but he would love nothing more than to wait by the door for her to come home and tease him till she grew tired of him.
She pushed him onto his ass, causing him to take a seat on her plush bed. She worked her hand down his chest, long nails circling nipples threw his dress shirt causing him to shutter and stutter his breaths. She worked all the way down until she was resting on her knees, tickling feather-light touches all over his clothed crotch.
Tears formed in the corners of his eyes when she finally pulled the zipper down in one swift motion. He knew it made him a bitch, but he couldn't help but feel like crying. Things like this had never happened to him, normally having to put in all the work for a woman that barely wanted him. Billie wanted him. He never had to beg her for touch, or even her attention like this. Part of him was grateful he didn't have to beg, even though he would have in a heartbeat if it meant she would never stop touching him.
"My goodness, someone's excited.”
She was of course referring to his raging hard-on that she had pulled out of his pants. It was red and leaking at the tip, almost like it too was crying.
"For you, only for you, ma'am."
That earned Mike a warm hand wrapped tightly around his cock. He threw his head back, letting several sounds of pleasure escape him, and hands dig deep into the duvet on either side of him. Tears finally fell when she began to tug at his crying cock.
Fuck, he's not going to last, fuck fuck fuck.
"Ma'a- m- please, 'm gonna cum. May I cum, please?”
Mike didn't get any answer to his question, instead getting, "poor boy, you make sounds like a little puppy. Are you mommy's puppy?"
Mike hoped that had been her fucked up way of telling him it was okay to cum, because once puppy left her mouth, white filled his vision. His moans were animalistic, short spamming whines as he arched off the bed, shooting ropes all over Billie's face.
Aftershocks shook through him, hitting him like a freight train. He felt kinda cold and small as he laid back on the bed, hoping it would soon pass, but it wasn't.
Fuck, why wasn't this passing?
He had been so turned on, but now he felt like he did after every girl. Dumb. Stupidly dumb.
He didn't realize his crying was reaching a ridiculous level until Billie's cum covered face appeared over him.
How his dick found the strength to get that hard again in such a short amount of time, he will never know.
Billie's thick framed black glasses were almost dripping with cum, innocent eyes behind them like she didn't have a face full of cum all over her.
"Are you okay baby?”
"You're so gorgeous momma.”
Mike eventually chalked up his quick recovery from spiraling any further to the way she was touching him. Not sexual, not demanding more, simply grounding.
Her hands on his clothed chest pushed the fabric against him, reminding him he had a real body and a real mind attached to it.
No girl had ever done that for him.
Probably because Billie wasn't just some twenty-something-year-old slut that took him home. She was a fifty-something woman that had made him cum faster than he had ever done in his whole life.
It was too quick to say 'I love you,' but Mike almost had to stop himself from saying it at that moment.
Instead what he chose to say was,
"Don't stop."
A pleased look spread across her face, one that might have been cruel if she didn't stop looking at him with those caring eyes that wrinkled in the corners.
He couldn't stop himself from shooting up and grabbing her face on either and began to click his cum clean off her. After getting over her initial shock, she would catch his tongue every once in a while to also get a taste of him, causing strings of saliva and cum to mix between their mouths.
Breaking from her, they both made desperate attempts at regaining their breath, Billie eventually wiping her mouth clean of the sloppy mixture.
However, Mike was restless. He needed Billie to be close to him, even closer than this. He needed her to never stop talking, as for every moment he didn't hear her make a sound, he felt as if he was going insane. He wanted to pin her down with all his body weight and fuse into one.
He got it.
He got how other guys could feel so fucking animalistic over her.
It felt right.
She backed him up to the edge of the bed, directing him through it with, "lie back, love.”
Following her simple instructions, he watched in awe as Billie stepped back to take her sweet time undressing. Layer after layer revealed gorgeous ample tits with a soft belly. Once pants were stripped, there was a stunning pair of lace panties, soaked through the front. Close enough attention also revealed a thick bulge in the front as well.
Mommy's cock.
Mommy's pretty pussy and cock.
"Momma..."
She was a 'he'
But that was too technical. He would deal with that after he dealt with his second raging boner. There was a wet print in the front of the panties, and if Mike squinted his eyes, he could picture her pussy dripping for him. Him alone. All his.
At that very moment, something overtook Mike in a way that he couldn't imagine would ever happen with her. He wasn't the savage men he pictured fucking her, but his actions were definitely not reflecting that.
Reaching across the bed, grabbing her and dragging her onto the bed, towering over her splayed body, he ripped the only fabric left on Billie's body clean into two in his strong hands.
He was going to have his way with her, God damn it.
Well, he was before her hand snapped up and grabbed his face, mushing it together.
"Don't try that shit again, or this stops right now, puppy. Behave or puppy can hump the floor to get off. Ruining mommy's panties like that. I should stuff them down your throat and make you choke on them."
What a turn.
Fuck, he hoped she would kill him.
He had half the mind to keep pissing her off in every capacity to just see what she would do. However, his crotch was getting almost painful from how hard he was, leaking a sizable puddle onto the bedspread below them.
"You would like that, wouldn't you, dirty perverted bitch."
All Mike could do was nod. There was nothing incorrect with what she was saying here. Billie's grin was growing to an almost demonish size. She was going to eat him alive.
Grabbing both sides of his face, mushing his strong cheekbones into one mush of face, she began by verbally spitting his face.
"You're gonna fuck me within an inch of my life, understand?" A slight pause in his response caused her to ask again, using Mike's new favorite word: puppy.
If fucking her within an inch of her life was what she wanted, he could certainly try and deliver.
Mike made quick work to connect their lips again as Mike feverishly attempted to unbutton his own dress shirt to join Billie's unclothed state. Once successful, Mike spat into his own hand, giving himself a few pumps to keep the blood flowing exactly where he wanted it. Billie's head jerked back as Mike started to circle his tip around her hole, only to discover she was a lot looser than he thought.
She really was a whore.
Being as loose as she was, she also had probably been fucked recently, definitely within the last twenty-four hours.
He could be better than whoever had fucked her.
He had to be.
"Puppy- careful puppy, mommy's not as young as you are. Mommy can't do everything you can."
Mike just nodded before slowly starting to push into her. Both threw back their heads to let out desperate moans, Billie's hands clawing at Mike's chest.
With Billie's current state, it didn't take long before Mike had bottomed out and found his rhythm, a rhythm that made Billie let out gorgeous sounds.
"C'mon puppy, make momma feel good, yeah?"
"I can't-- oh fuck--"
If she was going to talk to him like this all night, the night was about to come to an abrupt end. Mike needed something to take his mind off focusing on not cumming.
Sinking his teeth around the Adam's apple of her neck, he found his solution. He squeezed just enough to apply a pressure that was more errotic than terrifying. If she was going to keep calling him puppy, he was going to act like one.
That didn't stop her from continuing to degrade puppy with every thrust he gave her, apple bobbing with every word she spoke. He just pinned her further down onto the bed, keeping her like his trapped animal, but there was no real "trapping" taking place. She could easily get away from him, nor was he in any form of control here.
He was holding on well to his orgasm until she threw him for a loop.
"Let momma have your puppies baby.”
Instantly Mike saw white.
He peeled off of her neck and thrust his arms down on her chest, holding her firmly against the bed. It only took a few more pounding thrust, all of which Mike growled his way through. Growls quickly became high pitched whines, like a dog begging, which quickly became nothing at all.
Blissed out over the woman of his dreams, who was holding him inside her like her life depended on it. Even if he had the slightest thought of pulling out, she would have made it impossible from the way her legs wrapped around his waist and dug her heels hard into his ass.
She wasn't kidding about the puppies thing, was she?
However, once the post-orgasmic haze faded from Mike's eyes, he realized she hadn't finished with him.
A pool of precum had dripped onto her stomach, but no cum. At least she didn't fake it like he was sure almost half of the girls he had been with had just so they could get him out of their house.
"Momma...?"
Mike's confused hands found the answer pretty quickly. Wrapping up from her legs on his shoulders, up to hips, and then stopping to grasp at the folds of her stomach.
Soft and plump, the skin bulging through the gaps in his fingers. He wondered if he pressed hard enough, would he feel his dick nestled deep inside and the cum held inside there.
Maybe even her womb.
Mike was caught off guard when cum shot up onto his face. She enjoyed that more than he did apparently. The thought of her viewing it as a womb hit him hard.
This woman was going to have his children.
She began and twisted away from the bed as she came, almost like the bed was burning her, or rather the pleasure was too intense, she was trying to escape from it.
That's because he made her feel this good.
No one else.
None of those men that would use her like that could ever be like him. They didn't think of forever like he did. They didn't live next door to protect her like he did. They didn't make her cum like he did. They couldn't do shit like he could.
Billie was his in every way possible.
And on the latter, he was hers in every way possible.
He would worship at her feet night and day just to have her let him finish inside, or even just call him puppy. He wanted her to beat him mercilessly so everyone could see that he belong to someone, so no girl at the bar after work could ever take him home as a quick-fuck ever again.
Mike was going to be at the woman next door's house a lot more now.