The Neighbor's Brat

Chapter 1

It had been a couple of years since we had moved into this nice older suburban neighborhood. Large well-trimmed lawns fronted each property that featured mostly four-bedroom two-story homes. After several moves to find the right place, we were convinced that we had found a home. After our move, everyone had made an effort to welcome us and after that left us pretty much alone, which is how we like it. We'd wave to passing neighbors and spend a few minutes now and then chatting over the fence with those next door, but most were quiet, especially those across the street from us.

I had met only the man of the house, a little older than myself, shortly after moving in. I later heard that his wife was something of an invalid who needed to be kept on some sort of medical equipment most of the time. When summer came the first year, I was out doing some yard work when a Jeep pulled up playing some loud rock music. Out hopped a trim young woman.

"Whoo!" she shouted as she threw her arms into the air. "Home at last!"

When she began to unload some baggage from the Jeep I figured it must be their daughter home from college. While carrying in a couple of boxes she stopped and glanced over in my direction.

"You know, you really should move those roses farther apart," she shouted over. "They need more room than that."

I looked down at the flowerbed that I was cultivating. Maybe the rose bushes could be farther apart but they seemed to be thriving just as they were. What a brat, I thought. I later found out that my hunch about the young woman was correct only that she had graduated from MSU and was returning home to find work. In appearance, she was more cute than pretty but there was something about the way she walked that caught my fancy and I came to look forward to my "sightings" of her.

Now mind you I'm married with a couple of young kids and have never messed around, although I maybe had the chance a couple of times. It doesn't mean that I don't have an eye for the ladies, which I do, but that I'm a pretty average looking guy and certainly not the dreamboat kind that women fall all over. I've always considered myself pretty lucky to have caught and kept the woman I'm with, although since the kids came along she hasn't seemed all that interested in certain things as she was when we were first going out, if you know what I mean. And when that happens, it can't help but make just about any other woman look a little more intriguing than she might otherwise appear.

Some time later, I caught the cat from across the street in my flowerbed and chased it out. When she heard my shouts, the girl came running out to save her little Fluffy or Muffy or whatever its name was. Dressed in a short little gray t-shirt and white shorts she scooped up her kitty and held it close to her trim young body. It was then that I noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra and that her firm breasts pointed upward.

"You didn't have to be so rough on Grover," she said admonishing me. "He wasn't hurting anything."

"Have you seen what he did to my flowerbed?" I replied, waving my hand at the uprooted flowers and holes dug all over the place.

"Yeah, and you really need to move those roses farther apart," she said in return.

What a brat, I thought. But then, there was a pert almost defiant look on her face that for some reason I also found captivating. She looked really young to me with her clear smooth complexion and her intense dark eyes and her light brown hair swirling about her face.

"Just try to keep Clover out of my flowers, all right," I finally said, after realizing that I was sort of checking her out.

"It's Grover, and there isn't much I can do," she said, pressing him closer to her firms little tits. "He's pretty independent."

"Whatever," I said.

She took her cat and began to move back across the street. Just as she was about to step into the street she stopped and looked around as if to confirm that I was checking out her tight little ass wiggling in the tight white shorts. I could have sworn a little smile appeared on her face for a moment before she turned back and took Grover back home.

Some time later, I believe it was on a Friday or Saturday night, I was putting away some tools after doing some maintenance on one of the cars, when she and what I supposed was a girlfriend came out of the house ready to go out on the town. She was wearing these super-tight black pants and a blue top that clung tightly to her, showing off her every curve. Her friend was a tall pale girl with thick wavy blonde hair who was dressed a little more modestly. Before she climbed into the Jeep, I could see my cute little neighbor tilt her head back and take one last swig from a Budweiser longneck. She tossed it in the back of the Jeep and buzzed off with her friend.

Then there was the hot Saturday in the late summer when I had finished all of my chores and sat like an old Polack on a lawn chair in the shade just inside the garage door. Being a Saturday in the summer, I liked to spend the day weeding and cultivating the flowerbeds, trimming the lawn, doing the odds and ends that always need attention when you own a house. It helped me unwind from the workaday business world that consumed me the rest of the week. When I was done, it was something of a custom with me that my wife knew better than to rid me of. I'd sit out in shade of the garage and take long slow sips of a cold one and look over my well-trimmed lawn and hedges and think the great thoughts that came my way.

My thoughtful reverie was suddenly disturbed by the sound of the neighbor's garage door going up. Soon enough I could see the young cutie manhandling the lawnmower outside and getting it ready to mow. As she bent over to fill the tank with gas, I couldn't help but notice her cutoff Levis that were short enough to show off the southern hemispheres of her tight little ass and the three-finger wide window of space between her slender thighs. I almost got a hard on just watching her fill the tank.

Once she got the mower moving, she started on the back yard so I couldn't keep track of her except for the sound of the lawn mower. By the time she reappeared in the side yard, the heat of the afternoon had clearly taken its toll on her. Her little white t-shirt was clinging to her as if it had been sprayed on, so that the dark tips of her braless breasts were quite visible. Ooh, second hard on of the afternoon, I thought, and sufficient reason to quickly fetch another cold beer for the next act of the show.

By the time I returned, she had stopped the mower and gotten herself a cold bottle of water. She took small little sips from it, occasionally holding the cold bottle to her forehead to help cool down. Then she held the bottle up above her forehead and poured the remainder onto her face and the back of her neck. I'm sure that my jaw dropped as she let it flow down over her sweaty body, making the t-shirt even more transparent. Maybe she couldn't see me sitting here the shade of my garage, maybe she could but wanted to put on a show anyway. Whatever her motives, as I settled back into my chair, it wasn't the great thoughts of the day that occupied my mind any longer, it was the vision of this cute neighbor buzzing her lawnmower back and forth just across the street from me with her sopping wet t-shirt clinging to her lean curves.

Her sweet little pointy tits bobbled with every move of the mower. Her light brown ponytail swung back and forth with each step. She paused every other pass and wiped the sweat from her brow. Once she was finished, she parked the mower just outside the garage and went over to the garden hose. After taking a long swig of hose water she turned the nozzle on her hot body and let the cool spray flow over her chest and down her backside. She dropped the nozzle and ran her hands up through her hair brushing the stray wet strands that clung to her face back into place. With her arms raised upward, she paused for a moment, tilted her head back and shook it back and forth.

When her head stopped her face was looking straight at me. She paused for a minute or more. Was she looking at me or trying to make out if it was me in the shadows or not? I remained still for a moment and then decided to move out into the sun so that it wasn't like I was peeping or anything creepy. I strolled down my driveway, beer in hand, and stopped near the street. She stood at the side of her driveway hands on her hips.

"You know, you're not supposed to cut your grass in the heat of the day," I called out, trying to sound friendly and neighborly.

"Yeah, and you're not supposed to be gawking at the neighbors either," she said, sounding neither friendly nor neighborly, and obviously now well aware of the show she had been putting on for me.

"Hey, I was out here first," I said, mimicking her bratty voice.

"Well, next time you want a show, try the Silver Slipper on Monday nights."

"Yeah, but the showgirls aren't as cute and sweet and spontaneous as you are."

"I suppose that's supposed to be a compliment."

"Of the highest kind," I replied.

She stood for a moment longer, hands still on hips, but her anger seemed to fade.

"Well, maybe next time, if I know you're there I'll give you a better show."

I laughed out loud and crossed the street.

"I meant what I said about mowing the lawn in the middle of the day," I said. "You've got a good lawn going here and I'd hate for you to ruin it."

"Well maybe you can teach me about lawns if you'll let me teach you about roses," she said, her anger and temperature both obviously cooling down.

"Sounds like a deal," I said.

We chatted each other up for a few minutes. Her parents were gone for the week up to Minnesota for her mother's treatments and her father wanted her to cut the lawn no matter what. I told her that she should always be aware of my favorite spot on Saturday afternoons.

"You know, it felt like someone was watching me, but I had no idea who," she said with a giggle.

"Hey, I'm sorry, but I wasn't trying to be a creep or anything," I said apologetically. "I'm just human."

"That's okay," she replied.

She must have been aware that her sopping wet t-shirt and cutoff shorts were plastered to her supple little body, but she didn't make any attempt to cover herself up. In fact as she was trying to manhandle the mower back into the garage, it seemed to slip out of her grasp and I jumped over to help her steady it. For a brief moment I felt her lean back into me, pressing her damp backside against me. She looked at me closely and intently but neither of us said a word.

This scenario thus became a regular weekly feature the rest of the summer. Weather permitting, early each Saturday afternoon I'd take up my position in the garage and she would mow the lawn, even if her folks were home or not. I imagine her old man must have wondered why all of a sudden she was volunteering for lawn duty. But then, if he was like me, he wouldn't have asked silly questions.

Her outfits varied from week to week. She wore the shorts with a tank top then a halter-top. Then there was the white shorts and white sports bra. The routine was basically the same, the basic lawn cutting followed by a quick shower under the garden hose. Each week her little "act" would get a bit more daring and explicit; she'd stick the hose down the crotch of her shorts or up her shirt; she's rub the cool water all over herself making sure her outfit was thoroughly wet and transparent. When she was through she took a little bow and I would applaud. She'd give me a little wave and disappear into her house.

Once during the week, I was out taking my traditional evening walk when I nearly ran into her and her friend roller blading. They both looked kind of sweet in their tank tops and skimpy shorts and their safety gear, helmets, pads, etc. She pulled up short and motioned to her friend to stop.

"Howdy, neighbor," I called out.

"Well, hello," she said. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"What no garden hose?" I cracked.

She gave me a little slap on the shoulder.

"This is my friend Gretchen," she said presenting her blonde friend who sported a terrific big smile. "I'm trying to teach her how to roller blade."

"Nice to meet you," I said to her friend with the big smile. "Now I know one thing about her that I don't know about you."

"What's that?"

"Her name."

We both laughed.

"You know, that's right," she said putting her hand up to cover her laugh. "This is the guy I do my little show for when I mow the lawn. I only think of you as Mr. Neighbor Guy."

"Well, let me correct that," I said extending my hand. "I'm Johnny Porter, the friendly and appreciative neighbor."

"I'm Lauren," she replied taking my hand. "Lauren Mills."

"So what do you do for a living?" asked Gretchen.

"I'm an art critic. I specialize in performance art."

"Huh?" said Lauren.

"No actually I'm a sales manager for an electronics company," I said.

They caught on to my little joke and laughed. We chatted for a few more minutes and moved on our separate ways. I couldn't help but watch as they rolled down the street how cute their young butts were in their little shorts, their cheeks bobbing just below the hem. I could barely hear their voices as they moved away.

"So he's married?" asked Gretchen.

"Yeah, I think so. But so what," was Lauren's reply. "He's a nice guy."

The next Saturday was hotter than ever and Lauren was daring enough to wear a little bikini. Actually she came out wearing a t-shirt and shorts, but when she got around to the front of the house, she pulled them off to reveal the little black swimsuit. She made sure that the back of the suit was pulled up the crack of her ass like a thong. She didn't finish even half of the front lawn before she was over to the garden hose. At first she gave herself a quick shower, then held the spray closer and slower and let the cooling water flow down her chest. She pulled the front of the bottom out and let the water run down to cool her twat. She then pulled the cups of her top aside to rinse off each little tit. As she did so, she looked right over at me and smiled. She dropped the hose nozzle and took her time rearranging her suit top and bottom.

She returned to the mowing job abut paused once more before she was finished to repeat the same bit, but in a slightly different order, and this time she made sure that I could see her pointy little tits quite clearly as she let the hose water flow down over her. When she was finished she quickly shoved the mower into the garage and practically ran to the hose and held the nozzle over her head and doused herself thoroughly. When she went to rinse off her little tits, she looked both ways down the street and whipped her top up over her head and wriggled her shoulders, wiggling her tits in the process. She grasped at her suit bottom and looked as if she were about to drop her drawers, but the sound of an approaching vehicle caused her to grab her top and run quickly into the house.

The notion that maybe our little bit was getting out of hand crossed my mind. If the neighbors or her folks, or my wife caught on, we could both be in some deep shit. So it was probably just as well that my family was going on a north woods camping trip the following week and I would miss my little weekly show.

Chapter 2

For the week after my family came back from vacation, I didn't see Lauren's Jeep in the driveway and figured that she was probably away as well. On the week after that, my wife took the kids up to her best friend's cottage for a long weekend and since I didn't have any extra vacation time I stayed at home. So come Saturday when I noticed that Lauren's Jeep was parked in the driveway, I made my usual rounds of gardening and household chores early so I wouldn't miss my favorite show. But about 11 o'clock a couple of cars pulled up in front of the neighbor's house. One was the silver VW bug that I recognized as belonging to her friend Gretchen. The other was a Focus that obviously belonged to another friend of hers. Two young women emerged and walked with Gretchen up to the front door. I couldn't help but notice that they were dressed for the beach before they disappeared inside a moment or two later.

It didn't look as if I'd get my show today, and especially after missing it the week before and having the house all to myself. Just my luck, I thought to myself. So I took my time finishing up and popped into the shower to clean up. Maybe I could give one of my buddies a call a little later on so we could go out tonight and raise a little hell. I had a bite of lunch and decided to wash the minivan. After changing into a pair of cutoff shorts and getting the sponges and towels out I strolled outside to get started. As I wetted down the van with my garden hose, I noticed that all of the girls' cars were still parked around Lauren's house.

"Hey, neighbor! You can wash mine when you're done!" came a shout from across the street.

I looked up to see Lauren and her friends gathered on her front porch.

"You know, I'm feeling sort of lazy today, so why don't you ladies come over and finish the job for me?" I called back.

"Nah! I think you'd enjoy that a little too much," Lauren replied. "I wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself. Besides it's about time you gave me a show!"

For some reason I felt my cheeks blush at the thought and immediately went back to washing the van. But then, as I thought about it, what harm would it do? I did have a skimpy pair of cutoffs on, my tan was in good shape from sitting around the pool all summer, and since I was in pretty decent shape for a guy my age (probably twice theirs), maybe a little playful fun wouldn't hurt. So when I got around to the back of the van, I made sure that they got a good view of my butt; when spaying the soap off, I made sure that I doused myself real well. Actually, the cool spray felt good on such a hot summer day, and I heard a bit of chatter from my audience across the street.

"So what are you ladies up to on such a nice day?" I called out as I set the sponge aside in favor of a towel.

"We're waiting for a friend to take us out on her daddy's boat," Lauren replied. Her friend nudged her and said something "And by the way, neighbor, you missed a spot in the back."

"Where?" I shouted.

"Way down in the back," her friend called out.

I grabbed the sponge and watered it up and re-washed the lift gate and bumper.

"Still dirty," called out another friend.

So I bent way over and barely swiped it the van but made sure they got a good shot of my ass and even wiggled it to make sure they knew that their jig was up. They giggled and applauded. After I was done toweling the van dry, I slung the towel over a shoulder and walked across the street.

"Nice tan, neighbor," Lauren said.

"Same to you," I said, then noticed that the others were much more pale than Lauren. "Looks like your friends have some catching up to do."

"That's what we have in mind," said one of the girls, a long lean dishwater blonde.

"So what kind of boat is this you're going out on?" I asked.

"I don't know exactly," Lauren replied.

"A big one," remarked the other friend. "A Hatteras, whatever that means."

"Those are nice boats," I said being vaguely familiar with them.

"Johnny, have you met Cindy and Beth?" Lauren asked.

"No, I haven't," I replied smiling at the two lovely young women.

Cindy was a pretty little dishwater blonde with a long lean body; Beth was more full-figured than the others. They smiled and waved to me. I became aware that Beth had her eyes glued on my crotch. At first I thought of turning away, but then decided to remain facing her.

"I even bought a new suit just for this trip," Lauren said. "Want to see it?"