Chapter 25 Poseidon's Staff: My Sexy Neigbour (2)
He was doing it again, dressing and undressing before my window whenever he felt that I was home. And when he did that, I always find myself wet at the spectacular view of him.
To the extent that I was touching myself. What had happened to my act of celibacy? I was so screwed.
Then, I remembered that he had invited me over to his place. But how could I possibly go over to his place because I wanted him to fuck me? It sounded so insane but I knew that if I didn't do something about it, I was certainly going to lose my mind.
I prepared some marsh potatoes, packaged one for him, and walked over to his gate. He opened up after I'd knocked then he arched his brows in surprise at me.
"I prepared some marsh potatoes and thought to share some with you," I smiled.
"Really?" He laughed, taking it from me. He was bare-chested, sweaty, and breathtaking as always.
"I didn't expect to see you here," he added.
"Were you expecting someone?" I asked, wondering why he was staring over my shoulder.
"No, no, no. Not that. I was working on some furniture, I'm a part-time carpenter. That's my hobby," he scratched his head.
"Wow, I didn't know that. What are you working on?" I asked, intrigued at the aspect of him doing something else.
"Well, I'm working on my patio. Not much of a thing though, will you love to see it?"
That was a better way to go at it. At least, I wouldn't be identified as a randy lady. I nodded pleased at his invitation.
Poseidon stepped aside as he let me in. He lived alone as the house was rented to him. At his front yard were his equipment where he sawed out planks used for his patio. My hand brushed the hard texture of the wood, then turned a step high to watch the patio. He was halfway done when I caught sight of the half-opening.
I heard the opening of my food flash. I twirled around to catch him snooping a spoon into his mouth. "You didn't wash your hands," I said.
"Do I have to?" He asked, arching one of his brows.
I slapped his arm, grabbed the food flash. "Be a gentleman, go wash your hands," I ordered.
His grimace dwindled into a slow smile. I couldn't read his mind, but I knew there was something sinister about the way he smiled. When he returned, he was beaming down at me.
"You know, for a thing like you, you sure as hell act like my girlfriend," he said, coming over to me.
"You have a girlfriend?" I found myself asking.
"No." He had a worried expression, watching as my expression faded into a weak smile.
"It's been a while since I had a lady in my house. So, I find it amusing that you act like you are my girlfriend," he quickly corrected himself.
My heart surged with pride. He didn't have a girlfriend, maybe he would envisage me in that prospect.
"This is nice. I like it. I'm terrible at cooking, so I order most of my food. Other times I go down the street to get food from the restaurant," he explained, taking another full spoon.
Something hit me then. "If you don't mind, I could come around and help you with cooking. Cooking cuts down many expenses. Homemade food is the best," I told him.
He watched me closely as he ate. My nipples began to harden and my palm sweaty. He should say something and stop sending those signals from his eyes, I thought to myself
"Your boobs are bigger than when we last saw at the gym. Or is there something in my eyes?"
I almost swallowed my tongue. Was he way too forward like this with people? Thank goodness I had my breasts padded, and he wouldn't be able to tell if my breasts were indeed massive or small.
"I don't mind you coming over to help with the cooking," he jumbled in quickly. "My house is open to you, anytime. Common in," he invited me into the interior of the house.
His house was warm and cozy, clean and neat to be precise. The parlor was spacious and stretched on leading to the demarcation of the other rooms.
"Thank you for the delicious meal. I have to wash up now," he said, placing the food flash on the table.
"You're done with that, you can give me."
"No, I'll wash it up for you. That's the least I can do," he said.
To shut me up, he undressed before me. My eyes bulged out as my eyes ran down his body. His flaccid phallus was huge, it was beginning to stiffen. I began to wonder how twill look once ripened with erection.
"Why give me that look as if you haven't seen me naked before," his voice was low, seductive, and inviting.
He knew I'd been watching him, a hundred times. And he was a damn sexy seducer. He picked up his shorts from the floor, unable to get a reply from me he began to strut off.
"You can join me if you wish, a lot of calms can occur," he said.
However tempting that was, my legs wouldn't bulge. He returned to the fact that I'd already washed my food flash.
"Why did you wash it when I said I would?" He walked towards me by the kitchen zinc.
"It doesn't matter, does it?" I was nervous, he was closing on me now, his scent and his presence clouding me.
"Just don't do that next time. It makes me feel bad," he tilted my chin.
"I won't," I assured him, wondering why he was suddenly over me.
"Can I kiss you? No matter how I seem to tempt you, you are fully clothed in self-control," his eyes tore through my shield.
My breath ragged, I was breathless. Why was he doing this to me? My legs were already shaking from his mere gaze, how much more his lips were on me.
I nodded, anticipating his mouth on mine. "Say it in words," he hummed to my ears.
"Please, kiss me, Poseidon." I was losing my mind.
Gradually, he grabbed my cheeks, sucked in his breath as he brushed my lips with his. Taking a subtle turn on each parted lip before sprinting his tongue to graze my tongue.
I let out a moan holding him close to my body as he deepened the kiss. I wanted him but I was holding back, it was just too early.
He kissed on, making me feel like I was his woman. I kissed him back, boldly pressing my body into his, I could feel the heat emanating from his staff. It was hard, long and fleshy. While he played with my mouth, his hands snaked to my chest and I found myself stopping his hands from fondling my breasts.
He smirked, stepping back from me. "I would want more of that from you."
More of what exactly? Was it the kiss or was he referring to my breasts?
"I should leave," I rasped out breathlessly. If I didn't leave, I might beg him to fuck me. My folds were dripping with my feminine substance and all it wanted was to fill up his full length in me.
He didn't stop me, yet he wasn't surprised at all. He snapped his head at me before I left. "Thanks for the food. Next time, try not to put pieces of clothes into your chest. I want to feel your breasts the way they are," he said to me.
My steps faltered and I nearly fell on my face.