Neighbors. Nearly everyone has them. Some have more, some have less. I have a lot of them. Because I am living in a very big apartment complex. And yes, most of my neighbors, I have never ever met them once since the day I moved in.

Then there are those you have contact with from time to time. I tend to divide them into three groups: Those that annoy the shit out of you. Those who just say hi when running into you. And those who talk with you. No, not about my relationship problems, but about what was going on in the house. Your classic neighborhood chit chat.

My neighbor from directly above me was in the third group. We even talked about ourselves from time to time. We shared some personal information. For example I knew that she was 39 years old, she knew that I was 34. We also talked about each others professions She told me that she was a corporate drone in home office, I told her that I was doing some IT stuff and was trying to get into some freelance photography. As a side hustle, because I really love doing it. And so on, I think you all know what I am talking about.

One day when I came back home from work I ran into her again. She was bringing down the trash. I offered her my help, she declined it. But after a short break she opened her mouth again: “You are working in IT, I have some troubles with my computer, maybe you can take a look at it?”

In theory doable, but: “Shouldn’t your company take care of that?”

“Oh, I sent out more than one ticket. But they say that they have more important matters to attend. So they postponed it into eternity. So, can you be so nice? I would make it worth your time.”

I didn’t had to think long about it: “No problem. But I have no time today, tomorrow evening, when I come back from work?”

A smile appeared on her face: “Yes, no problem. I will be home. Just come up and knock.”

Then we said goodbye, she got rid of her trash — now she wasn’t throwing it all down the stairs, she brought it down to the dumpsters — and I went into my place, getting ready to head out on a date. A first and a last date.

The next day, when I was back from work, I jumped into some comfy stay at home clothes then I went upstairs and knocked at her door. No even a minute later she opened up the door. Wearing some comfy stay at home clothes. And with a very big smile on her face: “Nice. Glad that you are there. Come, in.”

At first she showed me around her place. It was the same size as mine: Two bedrooms, one broom closet, one bathroom and a relatively big living room / kitchen area. The furniture she had was definitely not from the worlds most trendy furniture shop. Every piece had something unique, and it all had some wear. The place just had soul.

Besides the furniture itself there were lots of pictures on the walls and there were plenty of books standing around. But besides some kitchen appliances, not single piece of tech was visible. She not even had a TV in the living room: “Haven’t you been asking me to help you out with your computer?”

She got carried away a little bit with showing me her place: “Oh yes, my computer, it is over there, in one of the bedrooms. I use it as my office.”

In her office, a gigantic workstation was sitting on her desk. Two displays and the machine itself looked really powerful. Also in the same room, a sofa, a gigantic dresser and a shelf with professional camera and lighting equipment on it. I wasn’t thinking that much about it, she probably was producing some content for the business she worked for. Something like work safety videos. Or stuff for their online platforms.

Then she booted up her PC. And showed me what the issue was. Her editing software was bitching around. It was working, but I tended to crash and glitch out. Once she showed me what was going on, I placed my ass on her chair and began with trouble shooting.

A few hours and a lot of cursing later — she was very nice, she was feeding me snacks and soft drinks to keep me motivated — I found the error and fixed it. Once everything was running as it should run, I told her that I was finished. She was more than just happy that I was able to help her out. She even hugged me. While she clicked through the programs she asked me the following: “Do want to see what I am currently working on?”

I was curious since the moment I entered her office: “Yes, sure. I’d love to see it.”

Once her actual project was on the screen, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a video of herself. My neighbor from above was fucking herself with a very very big black dildo. Sound was on, so I could even hear her moan. My jaw dropped to the ground. My dick got rock hard. I had a gigantic fucking tent in my sweatpants.

She, she turned around. At first she smiled at my boner, and then she smiled me in the face: “To be honest, I don’t work for any company. I am self employed. And that is how I make my money.”

I just looked at her, then I stared at the screen, then I looked back at her. I was paralyzed. Unable to open up my mouth. It was her doing the talking, while pointing at my raging hard dick: “By the looks of it you like what I am doing to earn a living. And so, as a little thank you, I am giving you a life time free membership to all of my pages. Well, under one condition: You have to help me out from time to time.”

Horny me was in full swing. I nodded with my head. I would have said yes to everything. Then we exchanged phone numbers. Then she asked me to leave her place. In a very nice way. Before finally leaving, she thanked me once more. She gave me a hug. Then my boner and me went downstairs into my bed. Luckily I ran into no one.

As soon as I was in my place and sitting down on my sofa, I got a text. It was my neighbor. She send me some access data to all of her content. Accompanied by some smiling smileys and a message: Enjoy yourself. But don’t overdo it.

A few minutes later her videos were on my big screen. My dick was set free. And my hands were sliding up and down my rock hard cock. While imagining fucking my upstairs neighbor. While watching her fucking herself on my screen. I was really, really turned on. My dick was leaking gallons of pre cum.

I kept playing with myself for some time. I squeezed my balls. I went faster, I went slower. I kept me on the edge. A few moans might have escaped my throat. While constantly watching the content on my screen. Fuck, she knew how to produce some appealing stuff. Then it was time for more. So I slid a finger up my ass to enhance my pleasure. Then a second one.

Now my moaning was filling the room. It felt great. It felt awesome. Just a few more strokes. Restrain yourself. Don’t cum. Enjoy the sensation of your fingers sliding in and out of your ass. Then a few hard strokes. And boom. My aching balls spit out a gigantic and nasty load. It all shot up into the air and landed on my hand, and on my belly. My body was trembling a little bit. What an awesome session. The first one of many to come. While exclusively watching content that was produced in the flat directly above mine.

About a week later I ran into her again. I had no clue how to behave. I even panicked a little bit. But a smile appeared on her face the moment she saw me coming around the corner. A smile that put all my insecurity away. We began to talk. The first question she me asked was: “And, are you enjoying my content?”

No need to deny anything. I told her that I did. And I told her that it was some of the best, hottest porn I had ever seen. She thanked me. With a gigantic smile on her face: “Wanna help me improve the quality of my content? As far as I know you are good with photography, and your dick, as far as I remember, is decent sized too.”

It took me a second, maybe two to make a decision: “Yes, I’d love to help you out. To help you turning things up to eleven.”

The smile on her face got even bigger: “So how about tomorrow, after work, at my place?”

I had nothing planed, so I just said yes. Then we said goodbye and went our methods.