The Unexpected Start of Love

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A man recovering from divorce meets his new neighbor.
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Novengliae2
Novengliae2
46 Followers

I would like to sincerely thank The_Outlander for a very helpful critique of this story.

There's an old proverb that says 'don't shit where you eat'. Most people extend that to situations with neighbors that become somewhat more than friendly. Even when all the relevant parties are single, too many things can go wrong with no way for anyone to fully remove themselves from the situation. Then again, another proverb goes along the lines of 'when ya gotta go, ya gotta go', even if you're someplace you might eat....

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The one-year anniversary of Dexter's divorce from Ashley was barreling towards him. It had been a difficult year, with some healing, some lingering scars, but mostly just licking his wounds. He had kept the house and the dog, and so by most accountings, had come out pretty far ahead, except that Ashley had the other man. No kids, but nearly a decade gone. Dexter made the decision to move back into dating, and definitely sex, slowly and deliberately. Part of his healing had been to learn that he could live alone, a fact that he knew was difficult for men as they get older. He learned to cook, not just sloppy joe's ('I fucking love sloppy joes', he thought), but more experimentally. He had taken a class here and there, and the omnipresent cook's aide, Google. He started adding beer to chili, and cream to pasta sauce -- small culinary victories, but they made him feel good in a way, more whole -- "Eat well, be happy" he kept telling himself.

He grew his landscaping business; something he had been unable (and uninterested) to do while married. It expanded from residential lawns to athletic fields, with 3 new hires, equipment, and a surprising amount of business. He worked out for the first time since his days as a small college hockey player. Never really soft, marriage had nonetheless started Dexter on the road to developing the 'Dad Bod', but without the benefit of the Dad part. Evening workouts on the heels of landscaping were re-shaping his body, and had become an important part of recovering the self-esteem and confidence he had lost after his divorce. He liked to tell himself that it was for his mental health, but he knew the end-result was aimed at an online dating profile picture that still seemed a long way off.

His house, formerly their house, was a small colonial on a corner lot. He hated that people called it 'cute', but it was his, full of painful memories, and some good ones that remained attached to the house like unevenly tempered ghosts. Then there was the dog. The goddamn dog. The dog he loved and the dog that nurtured him through the last year. The goddamn dog named The Notorious D.O.G. that never stopped shedding, especially on his bed. Dexter wasn't much for house work, but he kept his cute little house as dog hair-free as possible. It was never enough and the hair remained as constant as Pi. She was a big, smart mix, probably with some kind of shepherd, and laid back to the point that she would probably have held the door for a burglar. But as a loyal companion and compassionate confidant, she was unrivaled.

Next to Dexter lived vampires. Or at least until they moved out, the victims of foreclosure several months earlier. Dexter kept the lawn nice, not through any sense of civic duty, but simply because he didn't want long grass to attract snakes and mice. The previous owners had been nice enough if rather vampiric in their day-night schedules, so the neighborliness of the place didn't change much when they left. Since the vampires had gone, Dexter always associated their house with his marriage -- once apparently full but now empty. Full, but not really full, like residents that you know are there, but never really see. Like a marriage without love. Dexter, always a closet sentimentalist (which he was aware of, and also aware that it was quite odd for a manly landscaper), wished someone would move in; a way to finalize the exorcism of the demons. Banish the emptiness. "Plus," he thought, "I'm sick of doing that fucking lawn."

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The first anniversary of his divorce fell on a Sunday in October, perfect Pennsylvania fall weather. Dexter watched as red and gold leaves from the big silver maple tree in his front yard drifted to the ground one by one, splashing color across the grass. "I'll bet Ashley would complain about the leaves in the yard," bitter thoughts from bitter scars.

Dexter and Dog were in the front yard bouncing around when a pick-up truck loaded with a mattress, box spring and some boxes pulled into the Vampire's driveway. A young man hopped out of the driver's side, literally hopped and bounded back to start untying the cargo. A car, a chirpy little Mini Cooper, pulled along the curb in front of the house. It was clearly full of plants and other bric-a-brac.

Dexter turned to Dog. "A woman," he said. Dog looked at him with her best "What the fuck are you talking about?" look.

He scrunched his weekend worth of unshaved face, "It's the plants. And she's young because an old woman wouldn't move plants, or move into the Vampire's house at all. And she's single because the guy in the pick-up is way too happy to be moving. He's not her ride. Probably her brother. She's a tree-hugger, too." Dog continued her 'WTF' look.

"What?" Dexter asked, "I'm right. I'm always right." (And I'm talking to a dog)

The Cooper's door opened, and a leg slid out, followed by a boob, and then long hair, and more legs, and finally another boob.

"I'm a pig." Dog wagged her tail.

Dexter did his best to catch one furtive but complete glance. She had long, straight hair, kind of a light brown that had seen a lot of sun. Tan legs and cut off jean shorts (Jorts!), not too short, and a nice, athletic looking body. He looked away in an effort to not stare. Dog sat, still looking up at him and Dexter gave her a little chuckle, "Winner winner, chicken dinner."

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Day had just about given in to night when Dexter knocked on the door. "Hello?" Jen answered, opening the door only partway. Light blue eyes surrounded by sun-drenched hair, and perfect lips. Full and soft looking. A quick check down to assess and, as men will always do, quantify the mass of her breasts, which were small, very perky, and all-in-all, sugar cubes to starving flies. And then he noticed her tee-shirt. 'ZOMBIES EAT BRAINS (You're safe)'. (Blue eyes, boobs AND zombies? Dear sweet Jesus, thank you for letting me be divorced...)

"Umm, ah, I, um...hi," Dexter touretted out, "Since no one else will probably officially welcome you to the block, I'm here. With a pie. Apple. Pie. I baked it. And I have a female dog." (Female dog? Jesus Christ, I really do have Tourettes...)

A gorgeous smile with the slightest laugh lines around the corners of her mouth. "That's nice, about the dog. And I saw you two this afternoon. Does she have a name?"

"Dog. Actually The Notorious D.O.G., but Dog works better."

She laughed out loud, covering her mouth with her hand, and took stock of her new neighbor. Brown hair just starting to show speckles of gray, green eyes, and a shade over six feet with a nice body, "Hot," she thought, and said out loud, "And do you have a name, or are you The Notorious M.A.N.?"

He smiled at that one. "No, yeah. Dexter."

"Oh my God," she blurted out, "Did your parents hate you?"

"Family name," Dexter answered, "Goes back a ways, although I suppose generations of Dexters could be a Gypsy curse. And no, I'm not a Showtime serial killer. So how about you?"

Her expression was bemused and amused, "Jen, and I'm not a serial killer either. At least not yet," she paused, thought it over, and said, "How about a piece of your pie?"

"That'd be great! I'd love a piece of my pie," he smiled. (I'd love a piece of your pie, actually...fucking inner monologue...)

"Let's eat out here. It's a beautiful night, and besides, I don't have furniture yet. It'll be a few days before it gets delivered. But I do have paper plates and sporks," she said, raising one eyebrow for effect.

She turned back into her new house, Chez Vampire, leaving the door open for Dexter to watch her walk away. Not a perfect body, but about as close as it comes in real life: Legs of an athlete, nice butt, and a defined back and shoulders that were evident through her 'Zombies Eat Brains' shirt. This time the inner monologue became outer monologue, "Holyyyy shit!"

Jen looked back over her shoulder, "Pardon me?" she said with a little smile.

"Nothing. Just wondering how you found that awesome shirt."

"Liar," came back from the kitchen, "And it was a joke gift."

She came back with plates and they sat on her front porch step eating soggy-bottomed, mushy fruit apple pie with sporks.

"Thank you for the pie," Jen said, "It was so sweet and delicious."

Dexter laughed. "Sarcasm? But I appreciate it anyway. And thank you for the spork. A word I never thought I'd use in actual conversation. Spork. But speaking of shitty pie, I'm actually learning to cook, believe it or not."

"Well I think you're doing great, not to mention that you're so cute for doing this. Spork," she said as her smile faded, "My ex wouldn't cook a bowl of cereal. Worse was that he probably could cook, but he chose not to help at all. And then complained about what I cooked. That used to piss me off."

"I can understand that. We didn't do a lot of cooking. We used to eat out a lot," Dexter said.

"Really? Lucky girl. A girl whose husband ate out a lot...Hmmm....she left for what reason?" she said, "Seriously, that was the other thing he never did. Talk about being deprived of one of life's great joys."

Dexter mumbled a self-conscious, "Um, yeah, seriously, I know, it is, yeah," His obvious discomfort put a big smile on Jen's face.

"Oh my God, are you seriously embarrassed? I got you embarrassed!" Her hands went up in the air in victory, putting her breasts on a display that was impossible for Dexter to miss.

Now it was Dexter's turn to smile, "Thanks for the show, Jen!" And she took her turn at being embarrassed, modestly covering her chest with her arms.

"Oh my God, are you seriously embarrassed? I got you embarrassed!" Dexter's hands went up in the air in victory.

They talked for a long time that night, enjoying the mild night weather, each other, and bad apple pie. They shared stories of their failed marriages; she was divorced nearly two years earlier, and at 35, Jen was a few years younger than Dexter. Pets, jobs (she loved dogs and was a paralegal for a firm that handled medical malpractice suits), and sports. She had been a scholarship college lacrosse player at a large University, and still played in a local adult league. They joked about who probably had more fake teeth -- the hockey player or the lacrosse star. And all of it was steeped in the sexual tension of chemistry.

-------

Work the next morning was a cold shower for Dexter, which was probably unnecessary since he (and she...A guy can hope...) had attended to certain needs at the end of the previous evening. He imagined that she was all about the task at hand, no delays, just getting right to the button. He could see her in his mind on her back, eyes closed, head tilted back, the fingers on one hand sliding in and out of her sex, and the other rubbing little circles over her hard clit. Intense moans as she neared orgasm, and then her whole body tensing up, locked in her window of pleasure until the flood started to subside. He started thinking about slowly teasing her, going against her urge to hurry, bringing her to the edge of cumming and slowing down with the lightest touch. He could almost feel her body writhing, searching for release. That night he wanted to go back over to Jen's, maybe pick up where they left off. But shy and not wanting to seem intrusive, he took Dog for a long walk instead.

Dexter and Dog had just gotten home, cold beer and playoff baseball calling his name (Deexxxttteeerrrr...ddriiinnkkk meeee....) when a small knock came at the front door.

"Hi!" Jen was beaming, "How's it going?" Her hand swept in front of her face in greeting.

"Just got back from a walk with Dog. Long day, but good," he answered.

"Ah, The Notorious D.O.G. out looking for some doggy D," Jen laughed at her own joke, smile wilting just a bit when she realized Dexter wasn't sharing the humor, "Anyway, I just wanted to thank you again for being so sweet, and return your pie plate. I brought it to work. Didn't last long though, so you passed that test. I couldn't leave three-quarters of pie around, because then, you know, I'd eat it."

Dexter opened the door wider to invite her in. "I'm glad it was eaten, or at least that you threw it away discreetly."

Jen stepped in, a serious look replacing her usual bright smile. "I would never lie to you, Dexter. I don't lie to anyone. What you see if what you get."

She looked down and around. (Here we go...) "Dog sheds? What a pain in the ass. My old dog was a shedder. Couldn't fucking keep up with it."

"Yeah, I know how that is. Daily thing and never get ahead," said Dexter.

"I finally bought a vacuum that can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch. You welcome to borrow it...for whatever you need," Jen raised an eyebrow, appraising Dexter's level of embarrassment.

Dexter laughed, "I only get embarrassed once. Now I know that you're crass and inappropriate, nothing you say can faze me."

Jen stepped closer to him, "You sure about that?" she said, leaning into him and whispering in his ear, barely audible, "I want to suck your cock."

She stepped back, "But...I have to be at work really early, so I need to get going. Have a nice night not being fazed, my sweet pie-making neighbor." She gave his shoulder a squeeze as she walked past him, a little jolt of electricity. (She said she never lies...Oh boy! I'm going get my dick sucked! Wait...fuck. Ok, no more beef or beer. Pineapple every day...)

----------

On Tuesday, Dexter found out for the first time something that should probably have been self-evident -- landscaping with half an erection (soft chub) is uncomfortable. The tip of his semi-hard dick not only locked in jeans warmed by the sun (A meat oven), but also continually grazing the fabric of his underwear. He got back home just in time to see Jen sliding the door of a large U-Haul closed. She looked tired and hot, but somehow she made that look good.

"Hey, Pie Boy!" she yelled, "Just in time to miss all the hard work!" (Yeah, but I didn't miss all the working while hard....)

"Hang on for a sec," Dexter said as he walked to his front door, "Let me let Dog out."

Dog came sleepily through the front door, passed by Dexter without even a disdainful glance, and sidled right up to Jen. And buried her nose in her crotch for a nice, deep sniff.

"Sorry about that, Jen. She's got a thing for women's vaginas," Dexter explained, "Can't get enough of 'em."

Jen smiled, "As opposed to men's vaginas? No worries. Most action I've had in a long time."

Dexter changed the subject, mostly to avoid the risk of obvious male arousal, "I hope you had some help today. If you would have told me, I could've taken a few hours off."

"My brother gave me a hand. Honestly, he's kind of a wuss, so I did most of the hard work," Jen said, "Give me about 30 minutes to clean up and then come over for a beer?"

------------

Despite the arrival of her furniture, Jen's house still remained Spartan, at least the downstairs. In the kitchen, a simple table where they sat with beers, a living room right off that with a long, comfortable looking sofa and a disproportionately large television leaning against the wall on top of a low chest of drawers. The small dining room that comprised the balance of the first floor was empty except for some large boxes. Dexter had never been inside the Vampire's house before; it was cute, with beautiful hardwood floors and the kitchen had obviously been upgraded in the recent past. Stairs ran up to a second floor that so far remained the realm of imagination and fantasy for Dexter.

They drank a few beers and laughed a lot, both of them starting to catch a little buzz on empty stomachs. Jen rolled her head, "God I'm starting to get sore. My shoulders are starting to feel like they can hardly move."

Dexter was a fly that doesn't yet realize it's about to be caught in the spider's web, "You want me to massage your shoulders?"

She stood up and headed for the living room, leaving the faintest swirl of honey-lavender hair, the spider's pheromone to attract the fly. "Oh my God, yes, please," Jen answered as she laid face down on the sofa.

Dexter's stomach snapped into a ball at the exact same time he felt a jolt of anticipatory electricity throughout his body. He followed Jen to the sofa (sex sex sex sex sex sex sex...stop! I'm in the mind of an Irish Setter...) and looked down at her. Navy blue tank top against tan skin, her long, straight sun-lighted brown hair already swept off her back and around strong shoulders, thin waist, jean shorts, not too short, over slightly rounded butt, and then those legs...Dexter's weak spot. Athletic, tan legs. Those were what made him dumb as an Irish Setter. Five and a half feet of Jen laying there...Dexter gave his a head a little shake in a vain effort to snap himself back to the moment. He knelt down, the hardwood floor not exactly comfortable on his knees, but such is the plight of sex-deprived men. He tentatively started massaging her shoulders, lightly kneading the tight muscles. Jen propped herself up on her elbows and looked back at Dexter.

"Can you do this like you're a man and not someone who shops in the junior missus section?" she said with a too-serious face, making Dexter laugh and chasing away his uncertainty.

He kneaded her shoulders and along her spine, working around her rib cage, being careful to just get to the edge of her chest. Dexter switched and lightly grazed the exposed areas of her back with his fingernails, and was rewarded with a very soft, muffled moan into the pillow her head rested on (I have you now, Skywalker.) His hands worked down her back, her muscles responding with each massage and to Dexter it felt like she was melting under his touch. He let his hands slide under her shirt, a luxurious treat to feel her soft skin under work-roughened hands, gently rubbing the small of her back, alternating soft touches with light fingernails. Jen stayed perfectly still, letting him roam up to her bra and slip his fingers underneath to caress that unhappy skin.

"Legs now," was all Dexter said, sliding down the hardwood floor to her bare feet. He deliberately massaged all of each foot, using his thumbs on her arches and caressing each toe in turn. Her perfect calves were given a much harder massage, getting deep into those tired muscles, up to the backs of her knees. Feather light brushes with his fingertips, causing her to shift her hips, "That's one of my spots."

Dexter leaned forward and lightly kissed the back of her knee. He moved his hands to her hamstrings, using finger pressure to work those muscles. Jen propped up again to look back at Dexter, this time her face was flushed a light pink.

"Would it be easier if I took off my shorts?" She asked.

"Yeah, probably it would," Dexter answered, turning around.

Jen laughed, "Not sure why you turned around, but ok," a little pause, "Gallant Sir Pie, you may resume."

(Thong. Oh fuck. A thong. Thong. Thong. Thong. What do I do? Easy boy...)

Jen had laid back down, her jorts on the floor next to Dexter. Her now unarguably perfect ass and legs totally filling all the existence his blood-deprived brain could comprehend. She had on a simple red thong, the world's most powerful magnet and Dexter a small piece of metal. He began to rub the soft insides of her thighs, lightly pressing and then teasing the sensitive skin with his nails. Working up, he massaged her butt, letting his thumbs graze the very outside of her thong-guarded lips, testing her limits. Jen just spread her legs the tiniest bit wider, like a conspirator sharing a secret. He worked now right where her inner thigh met her butt, letting his fingers brush over her sex just enough for her to feel it, his touches becoming increasingly deliberate. Jen's voice pulled Dexter back to reality.

Novengliae2
Novengliae2
46 Followers
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