Your neighbor, Mr. Roberts

Fuck! Fuuuuuuck! Also...FUUUUUUUUUCK! You forgot that the most recent addition to your phone was your crotchety old neighbor Mr. Roberts. Dad had insisted a "responsible adult" be in contact in case you got in trouble. You're in trouble, all right. You just sent out a booty call to an old asshole built like a wrinkled tank and with a personality of a drill sergeant without the charm.

BOOM BOOM BOOM

You don't even have time to change, and what would be the point if you did. He has the photos now. He can make you wear anything...do anything he wants. You wish you weren't so drunk so that thought sounded more scary than sexy, but right now your dumb dick and stupid ass are all too eager to play with the neighbor. You take a few deep breaths and home you can manage the fortitude to talk your way out of this somehow. You open the door and brace yourself.

"Hi...llo. Good mornight. I'm uhm Brian's girly frein'...uh...uhm....whassit...oh yeah, Barbie!" Mr. Roberts does not look convinced, but he does look down to fuck, and you figure you can at least work with that. "Seeeee I got hish phone an' tried to texx him but I gochoo by mishtake. It's a shame cuz Ima all horneys and shexy and stuff." You give him a "subtle" wink with both eyes and almost fall over from the effort.

"Christmas on a cracker. Lookit you boy, your drunk as a skunk. And I've never been one to take advantage of a lady...or a sissy, under the influence." You pout and whimper. If he's going to expose you as a sissy crossdresser trying to cruise for cock and ruin your life, at least he could fuck you first. "So let's brew a pot of coffee blacker than midnight on a moonless night and get you sober enough to fuck. You might be a lazy good for nothing nancy boy, but that doesn't mean you should be a welcher!"

You wait while Mr. Roberts brews the coffee and think about how different things would have gone had you actually reached Dirk. He wouldn't have any reservations about taking advantage of a sissy or a lady under the influence. In fact, that seems to be his whole game plan. You are discovering a new respect for your not-so-friendly neighbor, and not just because the muscles barely contained in his tight white tshirt and the bulge in his pajama bottoms puts Dirk's to shame.

"Here you go, Barbie, this will set you right in no time. Now why don't you tell me about this bad mammer jammer you were trying to reach tonight when you got me?" You are surprised to find Mr. Roberts a sympathetic listener. He let's you ramble and slur out your entire story. By the time the pot is finished you think he might actually be able to understand most of what you're saying. He puts a hand over yours the power in them only illuminating his gentleness.

"I'll be honest, I didn't understand most of what you were saying. But this Dirk fella, pardon my french, sounds like a real a-hole. That said, there ain't no **** or trick that can make you a cocksucker. No one can turn you into a sissy. And no one can make you want to get effed. That's inside you. Now, I can help bring that sissy out of you, but I can't promise you won't still face consequences for your shenanigans this week. I promised your father I'd keep an eye on you, and a man is only as good as his word."

What the effing eff?! Not only is he not going to have the consideration to fuck you when you are too drunk to say no, now he won't even have the common courtesy to **** you? It's just not fair. You feel way too sober...every moment of shame and regret you blotted out is rushing back at once. You feel every ounce of fear at what your dad will do when he gets home and discovers his least favorite son is a **** using, booze stealing, panty pilfering, sissy faggot.

Strangely enough, you still feel horny. Every inch of you is crawling under you skin except a hard throbbing three inches straining in your sister's panties, and who knows how many inches aching inside you. You hate having to admit what you want...what you NEED...out loud and without excuses. But this has to happen, "So, Mr. Roberts, am I sober enough to fuck now?"

You slide into his lap and feel his bulge throb between your soft cheeks. He pulls you into a kiss and you melt around his tongue. You feel something different that wasn't there with Dirk, affection. You grind and writhe in his lap while his tongue turns you into a girl. You feel drunk...high...and sober all at once. You think you might have found your favorite new ****, and as he lifts you effortlessly into the air without breaking his kiss, you think you might have found a new daddy too...

He lays you on Brandi's bed, probably assuming this was your room, and you don't care to correct him. His hard, powerful hands slide softly over you, groping you gently. You grind against him and bite his bottom lip, letting him know you're a bit of a naughty slut and he doesn't have to be so "gee dee" gentle. He apparently takes the hint, lining his cock against your aching cunt and slamming in balls deep with one primal, powerful thrust.

"EEEEEEEEEEE!" Is it a cry of agony? Ecstasy? You can't tell and don't care as you spasm and spurt and melt around his cock like hot wax, your cunt molding around his thick shaft like a perfect cast. You whimper and mewl and yelp around his tongue as he lifts you up so you are straddling his lap while he pistons up into you. This is more than you ever dared dream of. More powerful, more all encompassing, more passionate, more beyond word's ability to corral.

You can't tell when one sissygasm ends and another begins. You can't tell the difference between cumming your brains out and falling in love. You know one thing with perfect clarity. Mr. Roberts was right. No ****, no trick, no **** could have made you love this, need this, live for this the way you do. You were born for this. And as your neighbor shares his cream with you, sending you spiraling into blissful blankness, you have one last thought...

What is my new Daddy going to do to Dirk when he comes round tomorrow?