The Girl Next Door | Cock Worshipping | Old & Young

Home Invasion: The Good Girl Next Door in The Bedroom of an Old Man

“She felt an erotic thrill coursing through her veins as she stood there, naked, exposed & vulnerable, in the home of the man whose old cock she had yearned to worship just hours before.”

I write erotica novels & short stories. I also publish sex confessions as a spermivore, spermaholic, and teen slut. Yes, teen slut! And I’m proud of it! Sex is good. And girls who love sex shouldn’t have to hide and pretend to be “pure.” Sex is pure! And that brought me to publishing journals and games for couples, men, and women — to improve your sex lives.

You may catch up with the first part of this story here or simply penetrate the story below without any foreplay. I’m all yours to do as you please!

The midnight air was cool and still as Carla lay alone in her bed, the soft fabric of her panties and T-shirt barely a barrier between her sensitive skin and the crisp sheets. Her mind drifted back to the afternoon’s events, replaying the sight of Mr. Garrison’s naked old cock in her backyard. As she recalled the thrilling scene, her hand wandered down to caress her moist pussy, her fingers teasing her clit gently.

In her mind’s eye, she saw the old man’s small cock again, mostly hidden by the forest of grey pubic hair that surrounded it. Although the memory of his pubic hair tickling her tongue and overwhelming her mouth earlier in the day should have been off-putting, she found herself strangely drawn to it. As she continued to stroke her clit, she fantasized about the old man’s cock, imagining how it would feel inside her young, tight pussy.

Carla’s breathing grew heavier as she became more aroused, lost in the erotic images of worshiping her neighbor’s cock. The way his eyes had devoured her body earlier in the day fueled her desires, and she knew that she wanted more than just a taste of his old manhood.

Her fingers traced circles around her swollen clit, her other hand reaching up to massage her large breasts.

Meanwhile, Carla’s mind swam with the memories of Mr. Garrison’s heavy belly, which had almost concealed his cock. She couldn’t help but fixate on how sweaty and stinky his balls had been as they pressed against her chin during their afternoon frolic. The raw, primal scent of him stirred something deep within her, a perverse craving that only grew stronger as she continued to explore her body.

Her fingertips danced delicately along her slick folds, each touch bringing her closer to the precipice of ecstasy. All the while, she replayed the memory of Mr. Garrison’s cock emerging from beneath his belly, like an ancient relic waiting to be worshipped by eager young acolytes.

As Carla teetered on the edge of orgasm, her thoughts suddenly snapped back into focus. Mr. Garrison was alone next door, and the realization sent a jolt of daring excitement through her veins. She couldn’t bear the thought of letting this opportunity slip away. Her parents were gone for the weekend! And there was still so much left to experience with that old, tempting cock.

Her fingers stilled, though her body quivered with unresolved desire. The thrill of sneaking over to Mr. Garrison’s house, baring herself to him once more, and finally surrendering her tight pussy to his worship took hold of her imagination with an iron grip. Every cell in her body screamed for her to act, to pursue this wicked craving for the old man’s pleasure.

“Let’s do this,” she whispered to herself, determination flooding her senses. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the sensual dance that awaited her and Mr. Garrison in the moonlit world beyond her bedroom walls.

Carla’s heart raced in anticipation as she slid out of bed, her smooth legs brushing against the cool sheets. The moonlight streamed through the window, casting a silvery glow on her lithe form. She tiptoed over to the patio door and hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting towards Mr. Garrison’s house. It stood silent and seemingly empty, beckoning her with its promise of forbidden pleasures.

A mischievous smile played at the corners of her lips as she recalled the lustful gaze of the old man, consuming every inch of her exposed flesh earlier in the afternoon. She felt the heat rise within her, her nipples hardening at the memory of his ravenous desire.

With a quick flick of her wrist, Carla removed her T-shirt, letting it fall onto the pool deck like a discarded veil. Her full breasts caught the moonlight, their soft curves casting tantalizing shadows onto her toned stomach. She reached down and peeled off her panties, revealing the fiery red curls that crowned her most intimate treasure.

Standing naked in the backyard, Carla felt a surge of vulnerability and excitement course through her body. Her thoughts drifted back to the way she and her friends had cruelly teased Mr. Garrison, denying him the sight of their glistening pussies. Regret gnawed at her conscience, fueling her determination to right this wrong.

As the night air caressed her bare skin, Carla imagined Mr. Garrison’s old eyes hungrily devouring the sight of her exposed womanhood. She craved the weight of his gaze upon her, yearning for the validation and thrill it provided. With each passing moment, her need to share herself with the lonely old man grew stronger, urging her to act.

“Tonight, he’ll see me,” she murmured, her voice barely audible above the rustle of leaves in the breeze. “Tonight, I’ll give him everything.”

Determined and fully nude, Carla took a deep breath and stepped into the night.

The moon cast an ethereal glow on Carla’s naked 18-year-old body as she made her way slowly and cautiously towards Mr. Garrison’s patio door. Each footstep was a soft whisper against the grass, as if nature itself conspired to keep her secret. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath caught in her throat. The dark house loomed before her, seeming to invite her to explore its hidden depths.

Carla’s mind raced with thoughts of the old man sleeping inside, likely unaware of her presence just outside his door. She recalled how his eyes had feasted upon her naked young breasts earlier that day, and it sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. She couldn’t help but think that she owed him more than just a teasing glimpse; she wanted to give him all of her.

Standing before the door, Carla hesitated for a moment, her courage wavering. But then she thought of Mr. Garrison’s cock — the old, wrinkled member that had been the center of their entertainment all afternoon — and a deep primal desire took hold of her. She needed to worship that cock again, to give it the respect and adoration it deserved.

With trembling hands, Carla reached out and tried the patio door. To her surprise, the door slided open. A shroud of darkness enveloped her as she peered into the house, the absence of light heightening her senses and igniting her lustful craving.

“Maybe he wants me to come in,” she thought, convincing herself that fate had brought her here for a reason. In the end, the urge to worship Mr. Garrison’s old cock overwhelmed her, propelling her forward into the unknown.

Carla stepped cautiously into Mr. Garrison’s house, feeling the unfamiliar coolness of the tiled floor beneath her feet. The darkness enveloped her, amplifying her vulnerability as she stood naked and alone in her neighbor’s kitchen. Her heart raced, pounding in her chest as she was acutely aware of the risk she was taking.

The silvery moonlight filtering through the window cast a soft glow on her body, accentuating her curves and highlighting her red hair that cascaded down her back. The shadows played off her ample breasts, the piercing on her right nipple catching the light and making it glint seductively.

She couldn’t help but feel an erotic thrill coursing through her veins as she stood there, exposed and vulnerable, in the very home of the man whose old cock she had yearned to worship just hours before. This bold act of trespass felt like an extension of their earlier sexual escapades — a continuation of the lustful game they had begun by the pool.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Carla tiptoed out of the kitchen, every step causing her breasts to jiggle ever so slightly. Her sexy, tiny, naked schoolgirl feet made no noise on the floor as she moved with feline grace toward Mr. Garrison’s bedroom. The anticipation of seeing him sleeping peacefully, unaware of her presence, only served to heighten her arousal.

As Carla reached the doorway to Mr. Garrison’s room, she paused for a moment, savoring the illicit nature of what she was about to do. She could see his sleeping form, shrouded in darkness, his rhythmic breathing barely audible. The sight of the old man, oblivious to her presence, sent a wave of excitement through her. It was as if she was claiming ownership of this moment, reveling in her power over his desires and fantasies.

Steeling herself, she stepped inside, her eyes locked on Mr. Garrison’s slumbering figure. The thrill of seeing him, so vulnerable and unaware, fueled her desire to worship his old cock even more. She couldn’t wait to feel it in her hands, her mouth, and ultimately, her tight young pussy.

Carla had never felt more alive, more sensual, than she did at that moment — a daring girl next door, naked in her neighbor’s bedroom, driven by an insatiable hunger to please and be pleased.

Carla stood at the edge of Mr. Garrison’s bed, her naked 18-year-old body illuminated by the faint moonlight that filtered through the curtains. Her long red hair cascaded down, drawing attention to the curves of her voluptuous breasts and the enticing swell of her hips. As she observed the old man sleeping, an intoxicating mix of arousal and power surged through her, making her nipples harden and her young pussy ache with need.

The very sight of Carla, a young and beautiful girl next door, standing so vulnerably naked beside an unsuspecting older man was a tantalizing image filled with erotic potential. It spoke to the forbidden desires that lurked in the shadows of human nature, the lustful cravings for experiences that pushed boundaries and broke taboos.

With bated breath, Carla reached out a trembling hand and carefully grasped the edge of the bedsheets covering Mr. Garrison’s slumbering form. She began to pull them back, inch by inch, revealing his inflated belly and ultimately exposing his lower half. But as the blankets fell away, her heart sank with disappointment — he was wearing boxer shorts, not sleeping in the nude as she had hoped.

Though discouraged, Carla’s determination to worship the old man’s cock remained unwavering. The act of uncovering him, even just this far, served to fan the flames of her desire. It was clear that the allure of the taboo, the thrill of indulging in something so raw and primal, had taken hold of her completely.

As she stared at the sight before her — the old man lying in bed, still unaware of her presence — Carla couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to slide his boxers off, unveiling his aged cock and offering herself to him completely. Even though this wasn’t quite the situation she had envisioned, the anticipation and excitement were palpable, driving her to continue on her erotic quest to quench her lustful thirst.

Gathering her courage, Carla reached for the waistband of Mr. Garrison’s boxer shorts, her fingers trembling with anticipation. Slowly, she tugged them down, exposing his old cock to the cool air of the bedroom. It lay there, flaccid and surrounded by a thick nest of gray pubic hair that seemed to defy gravity. Mr. Garrison stirred slightly in his sleep but didn’t wake, instead letting out a deep snore that echoed through the room.

Carla’s heart pounded in her chest as she drank in the sight before her — the vulnerability of the sleeping man contrasted with the raw power that she knew his cock held. The intoxicating mix of fear and excitement coursed through her veins, fueling her desire to worship the old man’s cock and submit to her primal urges.

With youthful grace, Carla climbed onto the bed, careful not to disturb Mr. Garrison’s slumber. She positioned herself between his legs, kneeling on the soft mattress, her full breasts hanging tantalizingly above his thighs. Her fiery red hair cascaded around her face, framing her flushed cheeks and hungry eyes.

Taking the old cock in her hand, she held it up with two delicate fingers, admiring the way the dim light played across its wrinkled surface. With a lust-filled gaze, she lowered her head, extending her tongue to taste the underside of Mr. Garrison’s shaft. As she licked along the length of him, stray strands of pubic hair found their way into her mouth, a nasty texture that only served to heighten her arousal about her role as a cock worshipper and a good girl.

Though Mr. Garrison remained asleep, oblivious to the erotic scene unfolding beside him, Carla reveled in the taboo nature of their encounter.

Mr. Garrison’s old cock began to harden beneath the gentle ministrations of Carla’s young tongue. The engorged veins pulsed with each teasing stroke, desperate for release. As her warm breath washed over the sensitive skin, Mr. Garrison suddenly awoke with a start.

“What the fuck is happening?” he rasped, eyes wide with shock as he took in the scene before him: Carla on her knees between his legs, his erect cock glistening with her saliva.

Carla, unflinching, met Mr. Garrison’s alarmed gaze with a sultry stare and wrapped her fingers around his throbbing shaft once more. “I didn’t feel like I worshipped your cock properly earlier today, Mr. Garrison.” Her voice was low and seductive, tinged with the raw hunger that had driven her to sneak into his bedroom. “You deserve better.”

“Carla,” Mr. Garrison stammered, still struggling to make sense of the situation. The contrast between the small young woman before him and the big old man that he was couldn’t be starker. Yet, here she was, willingly offering herself up to him.

“Please, let me make it up to you, Grandpa,” Carla whispered, her green eyes never leaving his. She stroked his cock firmly but tenderly as if handling a sacred relic. In that moment, it seemed that all the complexities of human desire had coalesced within her, driving her to submit to the primal power of the old man’s erection.

“Are you sure about this, Carla?” Mr. Garrison managed to choke out, his heart pounding in his chest.

“More certain than anything, Mr. Garrison,” she murmured, her eyes filled with lust and determination. “I wasn’t a good girl earlier today.”

And so, under the dim light of the sleeping room, Mr. Garrison lay there, his mind reeling as Carla lowered her head once more to his throbbing erection. Her wet tongue traced a path along the underside of his shaft, swirling around the sensitive head before enveloping him completely in the warm embrace of her mouth. The sensation was almost too much for the old man to bear, and as she expertly sucked and teased his cock, he couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer eroticism of the situation.

As Mr. Garrison’s arousal reached its peak, Carla sensed his readiness and gracefully lifted herself off him. Her young, firm breasts hung tantalizingly above his face, nipples hard with desire. The sight of her, the quintessential girl-next-door, poised just above his rigid manhood, was enough to make Mr. Garrison question whether he was dreaming.

Carla looked down at Mr. Garrison, her red hair cascading over her shoulders and framing her lust-filled green eyes. She held his gaze, an unspoken promise of pleasure passing between them as she positioned her young pussy carefully above the swollen tip of his cock.

Carla’s red hair cascaded down her back as she began to slowly lower herself onto Mr. Garrisons’ aged manhood with a sense of reverence. The erotic sight of her youthful body poised above him set the room ablaze with a sultry atmosphere. As she slid down inch by tantalizing inch, her tight, wet pussy eagerly swallowed up his experienced manhood.

The contrast between their ages and their sizes only served to heighten the intensity of the moment, the meeting of innocence and experience creating an intoxicating blend of desire and lust. Carla’s smooth thighs quivered as she continued her descent, her inner muscles gripping Mr. Garrison’s shaft like a velvet vice.

“Wait,” Mr. Garrison gasped, barely able to form words in his arousal. “I thought… the girls said… pussies were off-limits this afternoon.”

Carla paused, her emerald eyes locked on his, brimming with a sensual mix of mischief and need. “That’s true,” she purred, her voice husky with desire. “But I’ve had a change of heart. It doesn’t seem fair to keep my young pussy all to myself, does it?” She flashed a wicked grin, her pierced nipple catching a glint of light as she leaned forward. “It wouldn’t be appropriate not to share my young pussy with the neighborhood, now would it? I’m not that selfish.”

Mr. Garrison’s eyes were filled with a mixture of disbelief and raw desire as she finally reached the base of his shaft. Carla then let out a soft moan, clearly relishing the sensation of being completely filled by her neighbor’s old shaft.

Carla gyrated her hips slightly, teasing both herself and Mr. Garrison with the intoxicating sensations their union provided. The air between them crackled with erotic energy, fueled by the taboo nature of their encounter and the raw desires they both harbored.

Carla’s firm 18-year-old breasts and erect nipples wobbled above Mr. Garrison as she rode him. Her gaze was locked on his eyes, her body moving in a smooth and seductive rhythm. The sunlight streaming through the window accentuated every curve of her youthful form, casting a golden glow on her flushed skin.

As Carla continued to ride Mr. Garrison’s old cock, she arched her back, pushing her breasts out further, offering them up like an irresistible temptation. She reveled in the knowledge that she was fulfilling the role of a good girl, worshipping the older man’s experienced member with her supple, young body.

Unable to resist any longer, Mr. Garrison reached up, his large, calloused hands cupping and fondling Carla’s breasts. He marveled at their weight and fullness, the softness of her skin contrasting with the hardness of her pierced nipple. His fingers teased and tweaked each nipple, eliciting a soft moan from Carla as she continued to grind her hips against him.

Sweat glistened on their bodies, the heat of their passion making the room feel like a sauna. The subtle scent of sex and desire hung thick in the air, a testament to the raw, animalistic urges that drove them.

As Carla’s hips undulated with increasing fervor, Mr. Garrison could feel the pressure building within him. He knew he couldn’t hold back much longer; the sensation of her tight, young schoolgirl pussy enveloping his old cock was simply too much for him to withstand. With a final thrust, he felt an explosion of pleasure erupt from deep within as he released his seed inside his young neighbor.

Carla gasped at the sudden warmth filling her, a mixture of surprise and satisfaction crossing her face. She slowed her movements, allowing Mr. Garrison’s cock to remain buried inside her even as it began to soften after the powerful ejaculation.

Mr. Garrison panted heavily, his chest heaving as guilt washed over him. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to finish so soon. You didn’t even get to…” His voice trailed off, the unspoken apology hanging between them.

But Carla shook her head, her expression softening as she looked down at him. “No, don’t worry about it, Grandpa,” she said gently. “That’s exactly how I imagined it would be. My role as a good girl next door is to worship your old cock, and I did just that.”

Mr. Garrison’s brow furrowed, his guilt still gnawing at him. “But you deserve to feel good, too, Carla. You’re so young and beautiful, and you shouldn’t have to settle for…”

“Hey, I wanted this,” Carla interrupted, her voice firm but kind. “I came over here because I needed to worship your cock again — I wanted to be a good girl, a cock sleeve for Grandpa. You made me feel amazing, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

As she spoke, her hand reached down to stroke Mr. Garrison’s softening member, still slick with the evidence of their coupling. Her touch was tender, almost reverential, as she made it clear that she had no regrets about their encounter.

“Really?” Mr. Garrison asked, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deception or disappointment.

“Tell me something, Mr. Garrison,” Carla said, her voice sultry and teasing. “Do you think I’m a good girl next door?”

Mr. Garrison’s eyes widened momentarily, taken aback by the question. His gaze roamed over her young, supple body, taking in the smoothness of her skin and the way her hips seemed to beg for his touch. He swallowed hard, feeling the lingering heat from his earlier ejaculation still coursing through his veins.

“Carla… You’re more than just a good girl,” he stammered, his voice hoarse with lust. “You’re a goddess sent to tempt and torment an old man like me.”

Carla grinned at his response, delighting in the power she held over him.

“Carla,” he panted, his grip on her hips tightening. “You have no idea what you just did to me… I haven’t felt this alive in years.”

“Isn’t that what a good girl next door is supposed to do?” Carla asked, her voice breathless with excitement. Her nails dug into his chest as she expressed her submissive nature. “Isn’t it the purpose of young, tight pussies?”

Mr. Garrison’s eyes closed, unable to withstand the sight of her any longer. He nodded, his body trembling beneath hers. “Yes,” he agreed, his voice barely audible. “That’s exactly what a good girl next door does.”

“Then I’ve done my job well,” Carla murmured, her voice full of pride and satisfaction.

As Carla eventually lowered her schoolgirl body onto Mr. Garrison’s chest, the contrast between her petite frame and his large, round belly was striking. Her smooth, youthful skin glistened with beads of sweat as it pressed against the damp hairs of his abundant torso. Her ample breasts, nipples still erect from the recent excitement, nestled gently atop the curve of his stomach, further emphasizing their shared intimacy.

Mr. Garrison’s arms encircled Carla’s small, lithe form, his hands moving slowly along the curve of her spine. His fingers traced delicate patterns on her flushed skin, stopping to cup the soft flesh of her buttocks. Each touch seemed to reverberate through her body, a silent affirmation of her role.

The heat from Mr. Garrison’s fat belly seeped into her skin through their mingling sweat. The pungent scent of his underarms filled her nostrils, but to her surprise, she found it didn’t bother her. Instead, the raw masculinity of it somehow made her feel like a good girl, offering her body as a sex object for an old man who deserved more pleasure before the end of his life.

Her thoughts wandered, and she reveled in the sensation of being so intimately used by him. She felt a growing desire to worship his old cock even further, eager to please and satisfy him in any way possible.

“Carla, you should probably head back home before your parents start worrying,” Mr. Garrison said, breaking the silence.

“Actually, my parents are gone for the weekend,” Carla assured him. “And besides,” she added with a mischievous smile, “why wouldn’t you want to use my tight pussy again?”

Mr. Garrison hesitated for a moment, considering her words. “Well, I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Carla rolled her eyes playfully. “Why not, Grandpa? Do you really think I’d be here if I didn’t want to be? Look at me, lying naked on top of you, having just let you fuck me. I want this. I want to be your sex object, to worship your old cock and give it the pleasure it deserves.”

Mr. Garrison couldn’t help but chuckle at Carla’s insistent enthusiasm. “So, how many times am I allowed to fuck your tight pussy, then?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Use my pussy all night long,” Carla replied without hesitation. “As often as you want. It’s my role as a good girl to give you that pleasure.” Her words were earnest, her eyes filled with determination.

“Alright, but if we have sex again, I’ll try to give you an orgasm, too,” Mr. Garrison said, genuinely wanting to return some of the pleasure she was so keen on giving him.

Carla’s brows furrowed, and she looked offended. “No, Mr. Garrison,” she insisted firmly. “It was so much fun! That’s what I want. Use my tight pussy as a cock sleeve for your selfish pleasure.” She emphasized her point by grinding her hips against him, clearly demonstrating that her sole purpose was to fulfill his desires.

Her eagerness to worship his old cock stirred something within Mr. Garrison, and he found himself more aroused than ever before. The thought of this young woman submitting herself entirely to his pleasure was intoxicating, sending a shiver of anticipation through his body.

“Alright, young woman,” Mr. Garrison agreed, his voice husky with desire. “I promise to use your body for my pleasure. But don’t forget, you’re a good girl for doing this.”

Carla smiled, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction in her decision to submit herself to the old man’s desires. She looked down at him with a mix of determination and submission in her eyes. She felt the lingering warmth of his release inside her, and it only served to fuel her newfound desire to be an object for his pleasure.

“Grandpa, I want you to promise me something,” she said, her voice sultry and firm.

“Anything, sweetheart,” he replied, his eyes locked on hers as he felt the light weight of her body pressing against him.

“Promise me that you’ll use my body as your free-use sex toy and cock sleeve whenever you want. I’m here to worship your old cock, and I want to be completely at your disposal,” she insisted, her hands gripping his arms on either side of him.

Mr. Garrison couldn’t help but smile at her continued insistence. He nodded, his gaze never wavering from hers. “I already promised, Carla. You’ll be my personal sex toy and cock sleeve whenever I desire.”

“Good,” she purred, satisfied with his answer. However, she had one more request. “And there’s one more thing, Mr. Garrison. Promise me that you won’t give me an orgasm. This is about you and your pleasure, not mine. My purpose is to worship your old cock and make you feel good.”

Her words were like a drug to Mr. Garrison, feeding his lust and urging him to take control of this young woman who was so willingly offering herself to him. He tightened his grip on her hips, looking deep into her eyes. “Alright, girl, I promise. Your pleasure will come second to mine. Your purpose is to serve and worship my old cock.”

“Thank you, Mr. Garrison,” she whispered, leaning down to press her lips against his. The kiss was passionate and full of promises — promises of submission, promises of pleasure, and promises of exploration.

It was new to her, but Carla reveled in her unexplored role as a sex object worshipping old cocks. It was a path she’d never expected to take, but one that she now found utterly intoxicating. And as she submitted herself completely to Mr. Garrison’s desires, she knew she was exactly where her young female flesh belonged.

Carla’s eyelids grew heavy, and a contented smile spread across her face as she lay atop Mr. Garrison’s sweaty, smelly, fat belly. The contrast between their bodies was incredibly erotic — her lithe, youthful form draped over his large, rounded abdomen like a sensual blanket. Her porcelain skin shimmered in the dim light of the bedroom, highlighting every curve and dip of her feminine figure.

Mr. Garrison’s massive legs spread wide on either side of Carla’s petite frame, making her appear even smaller and more delicate by comparison. The sight was arousing in its own right — an illustration of the raw power dynamics at play, with Carla discovering her newfound role as a devoted sex object for older men like Mr. Garrison.

As Carla began to drift off into a peaceful slumber, her breaths fell into sync with Mr. Garrison’s deep, slow exhalations. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her further emphasized the connection between them, a tangible reminder of the intimate bond they had forged through their carnal explorations.

Carla’s thoughts lingered on their earlier conversation, her mind replaying the moment she had insisted Mr. Garrison use her body solely for his pleasure, denying her own climax in the process. It was a thrilling and all-consuming sensation — this newfound desire to worship old cocks, transforming her from a carefree college girl to a willing servant for the sexual gratification of older men.

She snuggled closer to Mr. Garrison, her young, naked body pressed firmly against his coarse, wrinkled skin. There was something so inherently satisfying about their union, two people from different generations coming together in pursuit of raw, unbridled passion. And as Carla fell deeper into sleep, she could only dream of the endless possibilities that awaited her in her new role as a cock sleeve worshipping old rods.

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