New Neighbors

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Two single neighbors meet with amazing results.
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Andy stood beside the big picture window watching his sister's Acura pull into the long driveway. Its bright red color echoed his sister, vivid and standing out in a crowd. She stopped and slowly climbed out of the car, letting her 5'-10" frame unwind from the driver's side door. She stood still for a moment, stretching her long, tanned legs that emerged from a pair of very short shorts that matched the car, her ample bosom obvious under the small tank top that left her equally tanned shoulders and belly bare for everyone to see. Her long, dark brunette hair was tied back in a neat pony tail and Andy was surprised to see that she was wearing little flip-flops rather than the 3" heeled sandals she usually wore to accentuate her height. She looked around, appraising the house and yard and then headed for the front door which Andy opened as she arrived.

"Hey bro, sup?" she greeted him with along with a kiss on the cheek which she actually had to stretch upward to do. Andy was nearly 6'-4" and had the same dark hair as his sister which only accentuated the pale green eyes they both had inherited from their mother. Neither of them were what you could describe as either fat or skinny. Most just called them, "Wow," as each seemed to fulfill other's ideas of what a guy or a girl should look like.

"Hey, Sammy," he replied, returning her kiss on the cheek. "How come you're out here today?"

"Andy, boy, I came to see the house and what you've done with it." They used the names everyone else called them, except their mother who referred to them as Anderson and Samantha, noting with a little shrug of her nose that nicknames were crass and low class. Sammy was looking around, checking the décor of Andy's new house, a gift from his grandmother when he graduated from college. She was smiling now. "So, did you do all this yourself 'cause I really like what I see so far?"

"It's about half mine," he answered, a sly smile on his face.

Sammy turned to look at him, returning the sly smile. "And can I assume the other half is by that delightful little decorator from the furniture store?"

"It was her idea. When I was buying the furniture we got to talking and she wanted to come and see the house and then she just volunteered to help out."

"Volunteered to help out, how sweet of her." A strong hint of sarcasm colored Sammy's answer. "Was she encouraged at all, maybe just a little bit? And did you get a little more from her than just some decorating hints?" She winked at him.

"Come on, Sammy. That's something you'd do," he jabbed back at her. "No I didn't get anything more than the decorating . . . although I think she thought there might be some more," he added with a smile.

"Un huh," was the knowing response from Sammy.

"Yeah, I have to admit the last time she came out here to deliver some stuff she forgot to wear about half of her clothes. Between her bending over a bunch of times to rearrange things and sitting on the couch there and crossing and uncrossing her legs I got a pretty good view of about everything she had to offer."

"Silly girl," Sammy quipped. "Just the opposite of what my Andy likes."

"Yep," he confirmed. "She was pretty cute but just a mite too aggressive. I felt bad because I know she thought I'd jump her right there but I never did anything to encourage her, it was all just her fantasies I guess all along."

"Well, bro, you didn't think you did anything to encourage her but with that huge grin you have, those green eyes that sparkle when you look at someone and just the big sweetheart you always are, you unconsciously encourage, believe me. That's the difference between us. I do it purposefully and you do it by just being yourself. We are a little different aren't we?"

Sammy walked around the house, checking each room, commenting some and asking a few questions. Finally she returned to the living room and sat down. "You know, of course, I can tell which rooms were mostly yours and which were mostly hers."

"Really? How's that?"

The ones you did just look masculine as hell and the others are a little more fluffy, if you know what I mean."

"Fluffy? I don't need fluffy," he said, suddenly looking around.

"Don't worry, people will just think it's your softer side. By the way, you looking for a job yet?"

"Naw, I'm just gonna use the money grandma gave me for a while. I worked like hell for four years with the school and the running. It took all my time so I'm going to rest for a while."

"Suit yourself. Dad will be pissed but he'll get over it." She stood up to leave and looked out the side window. "So what's up with the Morton's house? You spent a lot of time over there doing stuff didn't you?"

"Sure did. When Mr. Morton had that stroke he couldn't do much of anything so I did about everything that a man would normally do around there in the way of chores and stuff. I really felt good that he seemed to be getting better and then, bang, another stroke and he was gone." He shook his head, a sad look in his eyes. He had gotten to really like the Morton's.

"So, is she still there?"

"Nope, she told me she'd sold the house and was moving to Texas to be with one of her daughters and family. She left about a week ago.

"Kind of sad but you should be getting new neighbors soon."

"I was gone all day yesterday, but I think someone may have actually moved in. Anxious to meet them of course."

"Yeah, me too," she said absently, heading for the front door. "See you later," and she was out the door and in her car and gone.

Andy went to the kitchen and got a can of soda out of the regrigerator and opened it, diet of course, and glanced out the window. His eyes widened as he could see someone in the backyard next door. And, without checking again, he could see that it was really SOMEONE. Grabbing another diet coke he headed out the back door and was quickly closing the distance to the yard next door.

"Hi new neighbor," he called, holding up the can of diet soda.

"Oh hi," she said, smiling a beautiful white-toothed smile. She was maybe 5"-5" with reddish brown hair, sparking brown eyes and a figure that shouted athlete as loud as it could. He could see the tan lines that criss-crossed her back just above the little tank top she was wearing, that obviously came from a sports bra worn while she spent a good bit of time in the sun. The stomach that showed beneath the halter was flat with just the hint of a six-pack there. Her gorgeous but well-muscled legs emerged from what he knew to be bun huggers that runners wore.

He stuck out his hand. "I'm Anderson Whitworth but if you call me Anderson I'll probably have to whup you so just call me Andy."

She took his hand laughing. "I'm Melissa Griffin and lots of people call me Lissa, but I won't whup you either way."

He checked her left hand, noting that it was ring-less, not aware that she was doing the same to him. "Oh, pardon me. I brought you a diet Coke, if that's okay." He held it out to her.

"Thanks so much," she said, "as long as it's diet." She took it, lifted the tab to the usual hiss and took a long drink. "Good," she said, then, "how long have you lived here?"

"Just a few months," he replied and noted her looking from him to the house and back again. Deciding why not, he went on. "I just graduated from college and this," he gestured, "was a graduation present from my grandmother." He saw her eyes widen as she stared at him.

"No shit," she said gently, "and pardon the language. I thought I was the only one who chose their parents well." She pointed to her house. "From my parents," she said.

They couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the situation. It was nearly unbelievable that something like that would happen. They were very comfortable three bedroom, two bath homes on roomy half acre lots.

When the laughing stopped he couldn't resist any longer. "So," he said looking her up and down. "You're an athlete aren't you."

"She held out her arms. "How could you guess," she said, giggling. He didn't mention that, if he had a choice of any body type in the world, she would be right there at the top of his list. He loved female athletes and had dated several in both high school and college. "Yep, I am, or was . . . or I guess I still am. Swimming, track and cross-country. I went to a little college in Ohio, Kenyon College and they had a fantastic swimming program, Division III. Since sometime in the 1980's they've won like 23 national championships. Swimming was my big sport but I loved running too."

"What events?"

"Swimming or track?"

"Yep," he replied, grinning.

"The 400 and 800 in swimming, the 3000 and 5000 in track, and then cross-country of course.

"Fantastic. In our small world-ish-ness here, I went to a small school in Ohio too." He couldn't help but grin. "It's called Ohio State, and I ran the 400 and 800 for them. But, somehow you look like you would have been a fine swimmer."

"My broad shoulders you mean?" Her demeanor seemed to deflate a little when she said that. It was obviously something she didn't truly like about herself which he decided needed to be corrected immediately.

"Don't kid yourself," he said. You look fantastic and the some winning is double fantastic." But he was fumbling and not sure what to do next, totally unusual for him as he never had trouble around females. Then he decided, what the heck. "You look so good I'd love to take you out to dinner this evening."

Now it was her turn to fumble and she looked at him without replying, realizing that was a mistake as that huge smile, those green eyes and his equally athletic physique seemed to swallow her whole and before she could think she was saying, "I'd love to." And, in a continuing answer to his question, "I was the division III national champion in the 800 last year."

He shook his head. "I just knew it," he said. "Congratulation and you look the part perfectly. How about 8:00 and dress casually?" He held up his hand and got a high five in return.

"I'll be ready," she said, but ready for what? She's only dated a few times in college, just too busy, and only one time a second date. Now, in just five or ten minutes she'd agreed to a date with a perfect stranger. But, the more she thought about it the more she thought the "perfect" fit him exactly.

Melissa returned to her house, not looking back at the departing Andy and was a little surprised by what had happened. He seemed to be a really nice guy, as far as she could tell this quickly, but she was training for a triathlon and didn't need any distractions. Also, there was the new job that was taking a lot of time as she sought to learn all she needed for that. He was totally delicious though, those eyes and that smile had kind of flummoxed her and she wasn't going to allow that to happen again, at least she hoped not. Still, she might have her ways to find out just exactly what he was about. Obviously rich and possibly without any sense of responsibility, she wasn't sure he was what she needed in her life, despite that fact that she was much the same. Maybe that was it - she knew the type too well.

She changed clothes and took off for a 20 mile bike ride, returning very tired and very sweaty as she had pushed hard, harder than normal and she attributed that somehow to her meeting with Andy. She showered and then wondered why she was taking so long to pick out the casual clothes to wear. Finally she decided and, when it was time, dressed and was ready for her date, something that she hadn't done too much of in college.

Andy slipped on a pair of pale yellow Bermuda shorts and a pale orange golf shirt, his favorite colors, and a pair of leather sandals. It was 7:50 so he went out the front door and across the lawn to knock on Melissa's front door. Quickly it opened.

"Hey, come on in," she said with a sweep of her hand. She had on a very short and very tight white skirt that accentuated her rather long runner's legs and a bright orange kind of crop top blouse that went straight across just above her breasts to little sleeves that left her shoulders totally bare. He decided she had figured out quickly how to torment him to the utmost. She didn't seem to mind that it left the criss cross tan lines visible and he certainly didn't mind either. Prying his eyes from her alluring body he looked around the room.

"Going to be doing a little furniture shopping I guess," he ventured.

She laughed, a warm and very alluring sound. What was going on here? His reactions were so unlike him, a junior Don Juan as his sister liked to say. "I will be doing that when I get a chance," she answered, looking around at the mostly empty room. I just have these few pieces so far, and a very nice bed." As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wanted to take them back, her cheeks reddening slightly but, instead, she watched for his reaction and didn't see one.

"Congratulations again," he said quite out of the blue.

"What for?"

He gestured to the woven gold-colored cord lying on a table in the corner. "Which cum laude is that for?"

Well, she thought, amazed that he had both seen it and knew what it was. "Just the plain one," she answered quickly and he thought he noticed a slight blush on her cheeks.

"There are no plain ones of those. Bright and athletic is my new neighbor." He held out his hand and she took it and they went out the door toward his car, a lithe and black little Porsche Boxster. He opened the door and watched as she slid into the seat and wondered, with that white skirt stretched tightly across those delicious buns, if she had on any underwear at all. If there was any it had to be very, very small. He also noticed that the rather different blouse gapped away from her slightly as she bent into the car and he had a brief glimpse of pale skin on two rather delicate and delectable globes that all too quickly were gone. Most distance running females he had seen in college were basically bust-less, but she was certainly the exception to that rule. He climbed in and they zoomed off to dinner.

At the restaurant they ordered and talked, mostly about college and running but each shared a little personal information about their own life as well. He knew that most girls fell victim to his eyes and smile and were quickly ready to go to his place and climb in the sack with him. But, Melissa seemed to be bullet proof. And, on the other hand, he was the one that could sit and look and talk to her for the rest of the night, could swoop her up and take her away to his lair and . . . He had to stop his mind from thinking those thoughts although he knew there wasn't much chance of that. When they were ready to leave, Melissa's purse slipped off to the floor. Andy quickly bent to pick it up as Melissa did the same. As they bumped cheeks, Andy got an even better view of that pale skin than he had before and, although he didn't see any nipple, neither did he see any cloth down there either. She was braless but he would have never known without that view.

He had the purse and as they straightened up their faces were about two inches apart and it was all he could do to keep from grabbing that alluring face and kissing it. But, he didn't.

"Thanks," she said, barely above a whisper, her eyes locked on his, and he was sorry he hadn't gone ahead with the kiss. Too late now, though, so they went to the car and headed home. He pulled into his driveway, went around and helped her out, cursing the darkness which didn't allow another good look at that wonderful pale skin. They walked across the grass to her door where she turned to face him, taking his hands in hers.

"Thanks so much," she said warmly. "I had a great time."

Those big brown eyes again. "Me too. Maybe we can do it again soon."

"I'd love that," she said, squeezing his hands and he took that as a sign and leaned in and kissed her. He felt her lips move just a little but she quickly backed away. "Night," she said and slipped through the door and closed it behind her.

As he walked to his house he wondered if she knew what a tease and enchantress she was. Hard to imagine that she didn't. Inside, he turned on the living room light and then went back to the bedroom. It was still early, just 11:00, and he could sleep in tomorrow so he thought he might check some stuff on the internet. As he was ready to turn on the bedroom light he glanced out the window. The light in the window in Melissa's house was on and he knew, from his working there, that it was her bedroom. He wished the houses were closer together so he could see better but, suddenly, she was there, framed in the window. She was facing away from him and the window only showed her from the waist up but he could clearly see her very bare back. Turn around, he thought. Please, please, please turn around. She loosed the pony tail and tossed her hair around, running her hands through it, then turned and for a tiny instant he caught a glimpse of her right breast, a glimpse that didn't do anything to salve his imagination.

He knew she was in the bathroom, he could see the light through the frosted window there as well. Then he could tell that she was taking a shower and hadn't closed the bathroom door and probably had forgotten to turn on the exhaust fan as the bedroom window was beginning to steam up just a little. He watched expectantly and finally she reappeared, still toweling off her hair. Then, to his initial delight, she turned to face the window and, to his complete disappointment , he realized that the steamed window was fogging the view that he so, so wanted to see. He was nearly drooling in anticipation. Then he noticed her getting closer to the window. He saw her take the towel and slowly wipe the fog away. His anticipation was rewarded with a view of those pale globes he had seen In part only before, but now in the whole. The dark areolas were beautiful but he was too far away to see the nipples. She wasn't looking his way, just drying her hair again, the constant movement making those wonderful breasts jiggle and bounce a little. In a few more seconds she was away from the window and, very quickly the light went out. It happened so fast he could only imagine that she slept nude.

He lay down on his bed, struggling to get his pants off over the huge erection he'd developed. Soon he was stroking away, and he didn't even care that he shot streams of white liquid all over his pale orange shirt.

He was up fairly early the next morning, in time to watch Lissa leave for work, her bright blue new Honda Accord backing out of the driveway, then zooming away down the street. He puttered around the house for a short while, then made a quick trip to his mother's house which he never enjoyed but felt obligated to do, then finally made a side trip to Gander Mountain, where he carefully selected a compact a pair of 8x21 Nikon binoculars, focusing them across the store at a spot about . . . yes, about as far away as the house next door. Satisfied, he bought them.

That evening he watched Melissa arrive home from work, then head out again carrying a little duffle bag. No bicycle and no need to drive to run so tonight must be a swimming night. An hour and a half later she was back and he drifted out his door as she was pulling up the driveway. She waved as she pulled into the garage and then came back out before she closed the door. She had tied that rather light auburn hair into a pony tail that was still very wet.

"Swimming tonight?" He said lightly.

"Sure thing. I joined the Y so it's pretty easy. Hopefully there's a neighborhood pool that's a little closer." She shook her head and the pony tail slapped from side to side. "Ugh, still wet," she said.

"Speaking of still wet, in my back yard is a wonderful little hot tub if you're up for relaxing after that workout."

"More water," she said, laughing. She had known from the first that he was trying to seduce her, but in a special way. Even inexperienced as she was with men and dating, she knew people and sensed that he was very sincere in what and why he was doing it. But, and she wasn't sure why, she wanted this to stretch out, so that she could be sure of it. It might be fun to see him in a bathing suit she thought, hoping that he wouldn't suggest nude hot tubbing. "Sure, let me take my stuff inside and I'll be over in 15 minutes if that's okay."

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