The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: My Neighbor, Soon to Be Lover

Chapter: 1

Synopsis: A teen reprograms her older neighbour to become the lover she imagined him to be

Categories: mc mf fd

Jacob Fimmel was the man of my dreams.

Not many 19-year-olds would say that about a guy that’s three times their age but then again, Jacob wasn’t just some guy—he was the guy.

I took my bottom lip into my mouth as I peeked at him through the curtains knowing he couldn’t see me. I knew he was coming home around this time (around six p.m.) and I’d waited impatiently for his arrival, vaulting over the couch the split second I heard his car door slam shut.

Dressed in a dark blue business suit, Jacob hopped out of his cherry red Porsche, briefcase in hand. He paused a few seconds by the car, and I realized he was talking to someone on his cellphone. Good. That little occurrence gave me even more precious seconds to admire him from afar.

How lucky was I to grow up living beside such a man? Jacob was handsome, successful, gorgeous…

When I was thirteen, he moved in next door and that was around the same time that I’d seen the most delicious sight that would change my life forever.

I’d been upstairs in my room, which overlooked both our backyards, Jacob’s and ours, when I’d wandered to the window.

It had been a hot summer’s day with a nice warm breeze, the perfect weather to make you want to hang out by the pool—and that’s exactly what Jacob did.

Only he wasn’t just hanging out by the pool in the everyday sense of the term...he was literally hanging out by the pool. Thick dangling cock in all its glory.

I remember my cheeks going red when I beheld his nakedness but that embarrassment was soon replaced with interest.

I’d never seen a real cock before, and there in front of me, literally next door, was the thickest, meatiest cock surrounded by curly dark hair. His body was hard, I could see the muscles peeking out without him even flexing, and he had wisps of hair that curled on his chest. He’d been reclining on a chair, eyes closed, enjoying every bit of the warmth and I found I was doing the same—enjoying every bit of the strange warmth that was suddenly moving through my body.

It was a feeling I couldn’t describe.

I don’t know how long I’d been staring at him but when he opened his eyes he was looking straight at my window. I’d frozen for a second before I’d ducked, my heart racing.

Had he seen me?

I’d stayed there for a few minutes before I’d chanced raising my head slowly above the window sill to peek again.

But he was gone and so was my view of his gorgeous body.

For the next few days, the image of him was all I could think about. And the fascination didn’t die. Weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, but I never did get to catch a glimpse of him sunbathing again—and that wasn’t for a lack of trying.

Now, six years later, I still hunger to see him again, but my hunger has grown into a burning need to do much more than see him.

Put simply, he was all man—all six feet three inches of him and the boys at school didn’t, couldn’t, and would never compare to Jacob Fimmel.

His footsteps on the cobblestone driveway brought me back to the present and I watched with mild disappointment as he entered his house.

For possibly the thousandth time, I found myself wishing he was coming home to me.

I knew his wife didn’t know what she had. Why else would she always be off on her silly conferences doing her activism. I knew she didn’t appreciate him as much as I could.

A man like Jacob needed a woman who would worship him.

A woman like me.

Reluctantly, I sulked away from the window. That was all I would be seeing of him till tomorrow evening when he returned from work. He was some high-end businessman so he had pretty regular hours. That made my peeping schedule a bit easy. All I had to do was get home from community college in time for his arrival and I could get my eyefull for the evening.

The ring of the doorbell made me jump.

I hadn’t been expecting anyone and my mother wouldn’t be ringing the bell...unless she forgot her keys...again.

Rolling my eyes, I headed to the door, throwing it open.

“Mom—” I stopped and my mouth fell open. Eyes wide, I was frozen in mid-speech.

“Hello, Layla. Sorry to stop by so unexpected. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

Jacob Fimmel was standing in front of me, smiling. The corners of his eyes crinkled with those lines you get from squinting too much.

“Uh, hello Mr. Fimmel. No, its ok—I wasn’t doing anything.” I felt my cheeks grow red. Why couldn’t I have said something more...normal?

“Good...” His smile didn’t break. He was standing close, too close, I felt like I wasn’t going to be able to continue breathing for much longer. His cologne wafted into my nostrils and all I wanted to do was close my eyes and inhale it deeply.

“Listen, Layla. It seems my wife left the house without leaving out the key. I usually have my key but I’d left in a rush this morning and I think it’s on the table inside the house. I just called Julia and she won’t be home for hours, and then I had the idea…” He trailed off and gave me a strange look, raising one of his eyebrows.

“What?” My lips were dry but I dare not wet them. I was pretty sure if I brought my tongue to my lips it would be quite evident that I was longing for someone else’s tongue there—namely, his.

“Oh, it’s a silly idea.” He frowned and half-turned to leave. “Nevermind, don’t worry about it. I’ll just wait in the car. Thanks, Layla.”

My heart skipped a beat. He was leaving. Do something for Pete’s sake!

“Oh, you wanted to stay here till your wife returned?” I blurted out. I was about to mentally berate myself when Jacob turned.

“No,” he chuckled. “I was going to ask you to climb in through the kitchen window and get my keys for me. I figured with your tiny frame you could get in.” He shook his head. “Nevermind, it would have been a weird request.”

He turned to leave again and my heart rate increased.

“I could do it. It wouldn’t be a problem.” I was five feet three inches tall and not more than one hundred and ten pounds. I was sure I could slip through his window without causing damage to myself or his house.

Jacob turned to regard me for a few seconds, a slight frown on his forehead, before he smiled.

“Are you sure?” He was giving me a chance to back out but little did he know was that if the building was on fire I’d have still gone in to get something if he’d asked me to.

I nodded, stepping out of my house and closing the door behind me.

Jacob grinned and led the way to the back of his house.

“I owe you a favor after this,” he said, glancing back at me as he walked. When he reached the kitchen window he pointed at it.

“Do you think you could get through that?”

I looked at the window and nodded. It was just like ours and I’d broken into our house the same way many times.

“Sure,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Jacob peeped through the window. “The keys are right there on the kitchen counter. I can see them.”

I walked up and took a look. I spotted the keys and began hoisting myself. I had almost hoisted all my body up when I felt Jacob’s hands around my waist.

He was lifting me so I could better maneuver myself into the open window but I suddenly could concentrate on nothing else but the feel of his hands around my waist.

They were firm, strong, and his touch was electric.

I wanted to feel them there and in other places.


I realized he was asking if I was high enough to enter the house.

“Oh, thanks, this is high enough.” I all but whispered the words. As I gained my balance and his hands slipped away, they brushed against my ass and my breath shot up into my nose in one sharp intake.

“Layla, are you ok?”

“Yes,” I answered weakly. “I’m almost in.”

I slipped into the kitchen, landing on the counter, and hopped off. Grabbing his keys, I jiggled them in my hands with a nervous smile.

Outside, Jacob smiled and gave me a thumbs up, gesturing that I should meet him at the front door.

Walking through his house, I mused at how different it was inside. Architecturally, it was the same as my house. Our estate was filled with identical houses. Yet, the inside of his was so different from ours.

Pictures of his wife and kids scattered the wall. The kids were the same age as me, but unlike me who couldn’t afford to go t a fancy university out of state, they hadn’t been so unlucky. His daughter and son smiled back at me in the pictures alongside his wife and I felt a pang of something—jealousy?

When I reached the front door, I opened it for him and he greeted me with a grin.

Pulling me into a loose hug, he chuckled. “You are a lifesaver, Layla.”

He took the keys from my hand and shrugged off his jacket, placing it on the coat hanger.

My whole body was tingling all over. I could still feel his touch lingering as if his arms were still here.

“Would you like something to drink? It’s the least I can do for you taking me out of such a bind.” He was rolling up his sleeves and it was revealing his tanned arms underneath.

I nodded. “Yes, please.” Anything to stay longer in your presence, Jacob, anything. Reaching across me, he shut the front door and another waft of his cologne flooded my nostrils.

I was going to remember that scent for a while.

It was going to be a memory I stroked to sleep at night.

Heading off to the kitchen, I followed behind him and watched as he grabbed two light beers from the fridge.

He frowned as he regarded the bottles before glancing at me quizzically. “You ok to drink this?”

I nodded again and climbed up onto one of the barstools by the kitchen island.

Jacob slid the bottle to me and took a sip of his beer.

“So,” he started, “your mother told me you started community college this year.”

I nodded.

“How has it been so far?” He looked genuinely interested, which surprised me a little.

“I—uh—.” I cleared my throat. “It’s okay I guess.”

“What are you studying?”


“Oh.” His eyebrows shot up. “I would never have guessed.”

“Why is that?” Why the heck was my voice so soft? Do I usually speak like this?

“I just figured you would be into something like software engineering.”

“Like a programmer?” I was intrigued.

Jacob shrugged. “I guess, yes. Whenever I see your mother, she always mentions that you are stuck in your room on your computer.”

I flushed red. I could feel it.

Tucking my light-brown hair behind my ears, I focused on taking another sip of my beer.

My mother was always doing that. I know exactly why she was always mentioning me to him. No doubt she was comparing his kids to me. I never lived up to anyone in her eyes.

Well, at least she thought I was doing something constructive on my laptop when I was holed up in my room.

Truth is, ninety-percent of the time I was watching porn and masturbating. Look, these constant wayward thoughts about a man I would probably never be mine have to be released somehow.

“Well, psychotherapy is a bit like programming,” I ventured quietly.

Jacob chuckled and nodded. “Well, your mother is always going on about it.”

“Yes, she tends to go on about me ever since dad died,” I said without thinking.

I saw his eye fall to the floor and it was obvious he was contemplating something.

My father died two years after Jacob and his family moved in next door.

Since then, my mother raised me on her own. I guess part of her issue of complaining about me was embedded in the fact that she was worried about whether she’d done a good job raising me.

Well, as grandma said, “she’s not shooting up drugs or selling herself so you did a good job.”

I smiled at the memory.

For a few minutes, we drank in silence then Jacob mused. “To be honest, it’s sad that I don’t know more about you, Layla. We’ve been living beside each other for six years. I could’ve been more...present.”

I glanced at him and found his piercing blue eyes on mine.

I gulped.

My lips were dry again.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t your burden and we didn’t expect you to.” I smiled.

Plus, constantly rubbing my clit after every encounter with him would have left me sore everyday. I mean, there was going to be some clit rubbing tonight.

A lot of it.

Jacob’s eyes softened.

“Look,” he said, “if you need help with anything,, home life, money, don’t be afraid to ask. I know those things can be, difficult, especially the last one, which can be a bit tight.”

I smiled.

Oh, Jacob Fimmel, what I want help with is a lot more complicated than those and, oh God, a helluva lot tighter.

You have no idea.