My brain short-circuited. One second I was basking in the warm glow of my perceived safety, the next I was face-to-face with my living, breathing nightmare. My first instinct, the only instinct, was self-preservation. I slammed the door.
Or, I tried to.
Her hand shot out, a blur of red-painted nails and pale skin, stopping the heavy wooden door dead in its tracks. It was like hitting a brick wall. "Now, now," she purred, her voice a low, amused rumble. "Is that any way to treat a neighbor?"
With a strength that belied her slender frame, she pushed back, forcing the door open and stepping inside before I could even think to retreat. She kicked the door shut behind her, the loud *CLICK* of the deadbolt echoing in the sudden, suffocating silence of the apartment. I was trapped.
"Having some fun time, are we?" she asked, her green eyes gleaming with a predatory light as she looked me up and down, from my disheveled hair to my bare feet.
I just stood there, my mouth hanging open, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I was a statue made of pure, unadulterated terror.
"Oh, don't look so scared," she said, her voice a mock-soothing coo as she circled me, a shark assessing its prey. "I'm not going to bite. Not unless you ask me to."
She stopped in front of me, her smile widening. "You know, I have to say, I'm impressed. Most boys your age are fumbling around with cheap magazines and their own pathetic imaginations. But you… you're a man of action. A man of… *taste*." She gestured vaguely towards my room. "Although, the production value could use some work. A little too… vanilla for my liking."
My face burned with a humiliation so intense it was almost physical. She had seen everything. She had heard everything.
"What… what do you want?" I finally managed to croak out, my voice a pathetic squeak.
"What do I want?" she repeated, her laugh a low, throaty sound. "I want to have a little fun, Sid. I want to play a game. And you," she poked me in the chest, her finger sharp and accusatory, "are going to be my favorite toy."
She shoved me, hard. I stumbled backward, my legs tangling, and collapsed onto the sofa in a heap of scrawny limbs and wounded pride. She stood over me, her hands on her hips, a triumphant, conquering queen.
"Look at you," she said, her voice dripping with a delicious, contemptuous scorn. "All skin and bones. A pathetic, little scarecrow. But," she leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "you have one redeeming quality. One very, *very* impressive quality."
And then, just as suddenly as the attack had begun, it stopped. Her expression changed. The predatory smirk softened, replaced by a look of… invitation. Her eyes, which had been sharp and mocking, were now hooded, heavy with a seductive heat.
"But all this talk is so boring," she purred, her voice a low, hypnotic hum. "Let's talk about something more… interesting."
Her hands went to the front of her blouse, her fingers deftly undoing the small, delicate hooks. One by one, they came undone, revealing a tantalizing strip of pale, creamy skin. She pulled the fabric aside, and her breasts spilled out, free and magnificent.
They were perfect. Huge, round, and impossibly firm, with dark, inviting nipples that were already hard and pebbled. They were the breasts of a goddess, the kind of breasts a pathetic pervert like me only ever saw in his wildest dreams.
"You like them, don't you?" she asked, her voice a soft, smug whisper. "I've seen you looking at them. At Devi's, at Kushi's. You're a breast man, Sid. It's so… predictable."
She took a step closer, her magnificent breasts swaying with the movement. "Go on," she said, her voice a husky command. "Touch them."
My mind was screaming at me to stop. This was a trap. A test. A game I didn't know the rules to. But my body… my body had a mind of its own. My hand, trembling, rose from my side, as if pulled by an invisible string.
I hesitated for a split second, my hand hovering just inches from her perfect, creamy skin. Then, with a soft, pathetic whimper, I gave in.
My fingers made contact.
It was like touching electricity. A jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure shot through me, so intense it was almost painful. Her skin was soft, warm, impossibly smooth. I cupped her breast, my hand barely able to contain its heavy, full weight. It was the most incredible thing I had ever felt. Euphoric. A revelation.
I felt a moan escape my lips, a sound of pure, pathetic surrender. I was lost. I was hers.
"That's it," she purred, her voice thick with satisfaction. "That's a good boy."
I was so lost in the sensation, in the sheer, overwhelming bliss of touching a woman's breast for the first time, that I almost didn't hear her next command.
"Take off your clothes," she said, her voice firm, demanding. "All of them."
I looked up at her, my eyes wide with a mixture of fear and desire. This was it. The point of no return.
But I was too far gone to turn back.
I stood up, my movements clumsy, awkward. I stripped off my t-shirt, my jeans, my underwear, until I was standing before her, completely naked, my eight-inch cock standing at full attention, a silent, throbbing testament to my arousal.
Her eyes widened, a flicker of genuine surprise and appreciation in their depths. "Well, well," she said, her voice a low, appreciative hum. "It seems you're not completely useless after all."
She reached out and wrapped her fingers around my cock, her touch firm, expert. I gasped, my whole body trembling.
"It's a shame, really," she said, her voice dropping to a contemptuous whisper as she looked me up and down, her gaze lingering on my scrawny chest and bony knees. "All this… magnificent potential, trapped in such a pathetic, scrawny body."
She leaned in, her lips close to my ear. "But don't worry," she purred. "I'm going to teach you how to use it. I'm going to teach you how to be a man."
She guided me back to the sofa, pushing me down onto the cushions. She knelt in front of me, her massive breasts level with my face.
"First lesson," she said, her voice a husky command. "Suck my nipples."
I didn't hesitate. I leaned in, my mouth closing over one of her dark, hard peaks. I sucked, hard, my tongue swirling, tasting the sweet, slightly salty taste of her skin. She moaned, a low, guttural sound of pleasure, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer.
I was in heaven. A pathetic, perverted, scrawny heaven.
And that's when we heard it.
*DING-DONG.*
The doorbell.
We both froze, our heads snapping towards the door, the spell broken.