My Next Door Neighbour's Daughterbyquinn rogan©
It was a lousy late October day. It was cold outside, grey clouds whipping across a rain-laden sky, the tops of the trees in the garden lashing against each other, shedding great dollops of leaves onto the sodden grass ......
Mike looked out of his front window, to the empty driveway next door. Gordon and June, his next-door neighbours, had gone off to spend the day with their younger daughter, Carol, and wouldn't be back until late.
Which was a bit of a bugger, he thought, his testicles tightening. It was now more than three months since he and June, after twenty-five years of platonic neighbourliness, had suddenly found their relationship on a new, and intensely exciting, footing. After that memorable day in June's 'guest' bedroom, they had contrived to 'get together' about three times a week for the most satisfying sex either of them had had for a good twenty years.
She really had a great body for her age, Mike thought, and he loved the way she was prepared to try anything to heighten their mutual enjoyment of each other. He shivered with pleasure at the recollection of her lips sliding down his shaft ......
Today would have been ideal for a short trip through the back garden, over the fence, and into June's kitchen. He imagined lying naked with her, under the duvet, watching the rain splatter against the bedroom window, while his hands fondled her naked firm breasts ......
His cock was rigid with desire, and he shook his head, to clear his mind. There was a bit of shopping to do. Maybe, if he did that during the bad weather, the rain might clear up and he could sweep up some of the fallen leaves, later. He sat down and began to write a list, and, after a little thought, put 'wine' at the top of it.
It was odd, how his 'fling' with June had kick-started his marital sex life back into gear, and Mary usually became receptive after a couple of glasses of dry white ...... Her tits were not as firm as they once been, but they were still soft and warm and she still enjoyed him sliding his cock between them, and licking his protruding corona ......
Christ, he thought, I'm more bloody obsessed with sex than I was forty years ago – well, almost!! Tearing his mind back to the job on hand, he forced himself to think of mundane matters – cheese, bread, potatoes ......
The doorbell rang. As he rose to answer it, he glanced out of the window. There was a car on the driveway next door, now. He didn't recognise it.
The indistinct shape of a female was outlined through the glass panel of the front door. He felt his pulse quickening. Good God, he thought, I'm becoming obsessive ...... He opened the door.
The woman smiled at him, and said – "Hello!" It took a few seconds before he recognised her.
"Alyson!" he exclaimed. "Hello! How are you? What are you doing here?"
Several thoughts were jumbled in his mind. How long had it been since he saw her – it must have been Carol's wedding – five – six – years ago? What was her husband's name? How old were her kids?
But, uppermost in his mind, was the clear memory of what June had said when he had first laid eyes on her shaven pussy, three months ago.
"The girls suggested it. They both do it – oh, I don't suppose I should tell you that ......" she had said, with a wicked smile.
And now, as he stared at June's elder daughter standing on his doorstep, smiling at him innocently, all Mike could think about was the (probably) hairless, long slit between her legs ......
Alyson was talking, but Mike hadn't taken in a word.
"Look," he said. "You'd better come in – your Mum and Dad are away – visiting Carol."
He stood back to let Alyson enter. He had forgotten how tall she was – almost as tall as himself. Unconsciously, he straightened up.
"Would you like a cup of coffee – or a glass of wine?" he offered, and she smiled.
"Wine would be lovely," she replied. "And how are you – and Mary? I hear you're retired, now. Are you enjoying it?"
"Oh, yes," he replied, opening a bottle of dry white. "Don't know where I found time for working, now." Images of how he spent some of his days flitted through his mind – for God's sake, he thought – pull yourself together!
"Will this be OK?" he asked, holding up the bottle.
"Yes - fine," answered the girl. 'Girl?' he thought. She was two years younger than his oldest son – that made her thirty-five! Well, that was a 'girl', by his standards ......
"So," he asked, pouring out two large glasses, and leading Alyson through into the sitting-room, "what brings you up here? Are you on your own?"
"Well," she replied, sitting down, and taking a sip of her wine. "I'm working, I suppose. I had a meeting in the city this morning, and it finished earlier than I thought, so I thought I'd pop in, on the off-chance that Mum might be at home. We don't often get up here, nowadays, now the kids are that bit older ......"
"What ages are they now?" Mike asked.
"Oh, Simon's 14 and Eleanor's 12," answered Alyson, sitting back and crossing her legs. She had very attractive legs, Mike realised – long and slim, in tan stockings, or tights. She looked very attractive, all round. She was wearing a neatly-tailored beige business suit, with a white blouse. Her hair was shoulder-length, auburn in colour, and her features well-defined. She had a 'handsome' face, Mike thought, rather than pretty, her brown eyes set wide apart either side of a straight nose, and her mouth tended to severity, except when she smiled, and her lips crinkled at the corners, revealing even white teeth.
"So I'm working full-time, again – and enjoying it," she continued. "I'm on the road quite a lot – travelling around. And how are your family? How's Stephen?"
Mike grinned a little to himself at the mention of his son. Alyson had nursed a youthful passion for Stephen, and Mike suspected it had never quite died ...... But her face didn't betray anything, and Mike updated her on the family gossip.
As they spoke, easily and companionably, his vision of Alyson as the little ten-year-old girl he had first encountered when they had moved here, twenty-five years ago, receded. She was a confident, capable woman, juggling a family, home and a career with apparent dexterity, like so many of her generation – and looking very good on it, as well.
He noticed her glass was empty, and refilled it.
"Do you see much more of Mum – and Dad – now – now that you're at home, more?" Alyson asked, suddenly, and Mike was a little taken aback.
"Well, a – a bit, I suppose," he stammered. "But not too much – we've never been sort of – 'in and out', really, as neighbours." Unfortunate choice of phrase, he thought, under the circumstances ......
"No, we're much the same as we always were," he continued. "The occasional chat – over the wall, you know."
"I just wondered," said Alyson. "You haven't noticed any – change – in them, then?"
"Well, no – not really," answered Mike, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, I'm not sure," she replied, her eyes on his face. "When I phone, it's almost always Mum I speak to, and she seems – different – recently. More – well, upbeat, I suppose. She's always been - well, a bit of a 'doormat', I've always thought. You know – more of less does what Dad says, without question, but, recently, I've been wondering if – well, maybe, the worm was turning ......"
Mike was beginning to feel uncomfortable. If June was sounding a bit more confident, these days, he had a shrewd idea why – but Alyson was not the person to confide in, on that one ...... Nevertheless, he had never thought of June as a 'doormat' himself, and he was intrigued ......
"I never actually saw your Mum as a 'doormat'," he ventured, and Alyson nodded her head, vigorously, interrupting him.
"No," she said. "It isn't obvious – outside. But, in the house, Dad definitely rules the roost. It took me along time to realise – I don't suppose it was really until I left home – but he's always putting her down – always attacking her self-esteem. I think that's why she never worked after we grew up, for example. It suited Dad to have her at home, running after him, so he convinced her she'd never cope with a job, and the house ......"
"But how?" asked Mike. "She's intelligent – organised – attractive ……"
"Ah," Alyson leapt in, then stopped, looking, for the first time, a little hesitant – confused – even embarrassed.
"What?" said Mike.
"Oh," Alyson's face had turned a little pink. "It's funny – suddenly I feel about fifteen, again – and you're the 'grown-up', next door."
Mike smiled, and she laughed.
"I know – it's ridiculous. Oh, well – here goes! For as long as I can remember, Dad has always talked about – other women. On TV, in the street, in the car – if he saw a woman he liked – fancied – he'd pass a comment. Especially if – if she had large breasts."
"Ah," said Mike.
"Yes," said Alyson. "Well Mum isn't – well, she never has had big breasts, and I think Dad's comments were aimed at her, mainly – and they worked. I think she has always thought of herself as – well, inadequate, as a woman."
She took a long breath, then said – "Can I say something – a bit personal, I suppose?"
Mike wondered what was coming, but nodded his head.
"Well, when you moved in – here – I heard Dad talking about Mary – your wife. I was just at the age when I was – well, beginning to develop, and I was becoming interested in things like that. I can remember Dad going on about Mary ……"
Mike's mouth was drying, a little. He couldn't resist asking – "What sort of things did he say?"
"Well, he was sometimes quite – crude," Alyson answered, her hands cradling her empty glass, her face lowered.
"Oh, I think I can stand crudity," Mike commented, trying to sound light-hearted, as his testicles tightened in anticipation.
"Well – he talked about the size and shape of her breasts – and how attractive they were ...... He used to say how lucky you were, being able to see Mary's 'tits' whenever you wanted to – and feel them. And - I think he used to try to spy on her – he used to go upstairs a lot if she was outside, and I think he was peeping out of the bedroom window, hoping to see down her blouse."
Mike recalled his furtive 'downblouse' glances at June, when she was gardening, from his upstairs vantage point, and felt a twinge of conscience mingling with his guilt at the sense of arousal he felt at the thought of Gordon doing the same thing to Mary ......
"Oh, well ......" he said, shrugging his shoulders, unable to think of anything more coherent to say, although his mind was buzzing with questions. He resisted the temptation to point out to Alyson how her mother's breasts had filled out with the onset of middle age ......
To cover his embarrassment, he leaned over and filled Alyson's glass again.
"It used to really embarrass me," said Alyson, taking another drink.
"What – particularly?" he asked.
"Oh – everything," she responded. "Dad going on about other women – especially Mary. I used to feel embarrassed – for Mum, mainly. Then, when I began to develop, and I became 'bigger' than her, I was very confused. I felt sort of guilty, but relieved, too ......"
Suddenly, Mike had a very clear recollection of a youthful Alyson standing in his garden, showing him and Mary her pet hamster. She had been holding it in two hands, letting it crawl from one hand to the other. Her hands had been in front of her chest, and her white t-shirt had been pulled down a little at the front, revealing the tops of her young, firm breasts.
On the pretext of watching the little furry animal, Mike had enjoyed the view of the girl's developing tits – but not without a twinge of conscience. But neither could he deny that his look at the firm white slopes had lasted longer than it should - and that the memory had alternately disturbed, and stimulated, him for a long time after.
"But, you say, things seem to be better, now," he said, trying to banish that memory from his mind.
"Well – Mum seems – different, when I've spoken to her, recently," said Alyson, "and I just wondered if you might have noticed anything."
"No," said Mike. "Can't say I have – except – well ……" His voice trailed off, and Alyson looked up enquiringly.
"Except – what?"
"Well," Mike went on, sorry he hadn't just left it at that. "Well – she's filled out, a bit, your Mum – hasn't she? I mean, she's not as thin as she was, and – well, it suits her ......"
Alyson raised her eyes and looked straight at him. Mike felt himself redden a little, under her scrutiny.
"It's you, isn't it?" said Alyson, her gaze level, and piercing. Mike tried to laugh.
"Me – what do you mean?" he said.
"You – and Mum. You're having an affair, aren't you?"
"No – don't be silly," Mike tried to laugh it off, but knew he didn't sound convincing.
"I thought it was you," Alyson went on, triumphantly. "I knew there was someone, and she's mentioned you a lot more than usual in the last couple of months."
Mike opened his mouth, but she carried on, hurriedly.
"Oh, don't worry – I won't 'shop' you. I – I approve! It's doing Mum no end of good, and Dad's only got himself to blame. And you don't look the worse for it, either! Anyway – I still owe you one ....."
"'Owe me one'?" asked Mike, mystified.
"Yes – that time I was baby-sitting for you, and you came in and caught me, with Matthew Hardy ...... I was terrified you'd tell Dad, but you never did."
Mike remembered the incident. Mary and he had come home unexpectedly early and had been surprised to find a boy in their house, with Alyson. Moreover, from their flushed appearances, it was obvious that something had been 'going on' immediately prior to their arrival. Mary had been all for alerting Gordon and June about what their daughter had been up to, but Mike had talked her out of it.
"Mike," asked Alyson, hesitantly. "Can I ask – how it started? I mean – you've known each other for such a long time ......"
Mike laughed, a bit sheepishly.
"Well, your Mum was unloading some shopping from the boot of her car. She bent over, and I – saw down her t-shirt and, before I could stop myself, I made a comment – and, it started from there."
Alyson's eyes were sparkling.
"Wow!" she breathed. "That's fabulous! You couldn't have done better – admiring her tits! Did she – offer herself, right there and then?"
Mike was a little shocked.
"Oh, now, come on, Alyson," he protested. "It wasn't like that, at all – and – I'm not going to tell you what it was like. That's between me and your Mum – but, yes, I'd rather you kept it to yourself – and I mean yourself! No telling Carol – or your husband ......"
"Oh, don't worry," she said. "Carol and I aren't that close – and I don't share that kind of thing with Alan – anyway, he doesn't know about Matthew and me, so you can still hold that over me ......"
She bit her lip, thoughtfully, then took another sip from her glass.
"Mike," she said, slowly. "You remember that time, with Matthew?"
"Well – did you see – anything?"
"No – not really," he answered. "I mean – it was obvious something had been going on, but you managed to get yourselves 'decent' before we came into the room."
"Oh," she said, a strange look – almost of disappointment – clouding her face. Mike, puzzled, remained silent. Then she went on.
"You see, just before you came in, Matthew had me stripped to the waist – completely – and he was playing with my breasts. Otherwise, we were both fully clothed. Then we heard the front door opening, and there was a huge panic. He grabbed my bra and stuffed it in his pocket and I pulled my sweater over my head. And, when I pulled my head through – you were there, at the lounge door!"
"Well, I didn't see anything," Mike assured her. He was taken aback at the outright way Alyson had described what had been going on, and had to remind himself, again, that she wasn't a child, any more. "You've nothing to worry about there."
Alyson looked up at him, a half-smile on her face.
"When you moved in here," she said, her voice low, but firm and confident, "you must have been about the same age as I am, now."
"Yes," replied Mike, mystified. "I suppose I was."
"And I was an impressionable young girl – on the cusp of womanhood!" Alyson laughed, leaning back and crossing her legs. Mike caught a glimpse of white thigh above tan stockings. It reminded him – again – that Alyson was no longer the kid next door. More than that, she had the air of a woman who had experienced life. He sensed that the last fifteen years had held more than wifely domesticity ......
"Hearing my Dad talking about Mary – and you – well, it cast you both in a certain 'role' in my impressionable mind. I used to imagine you and her – together – making love, every night – you enjoying her breasts, and – well, my imagination was pretty active ......"
Mike laughed, a little ruefully. "Well, it wasn't too close to the truth, I'm afraid," he said.
"That didn't matter," Alyson replied. "What it did was to cast you in my mind as a very sexy man ...... I imagined you – and Mary – a lot ...... I thought you must always be 'at it' ......"
Her voice trailed away and, suddenly, her eyes dropped and her cheeks assumed a pinkish hue.
"And then," she resumed, at length, hesitantly, "that night, I thought you had caught a glimpse of my breasts - uncovered. You had an expression on your face that made me think ...... and ...... it excited me."
"When I was at home, in bed, thinking about it, I convinced myself you had seen me. Matthew said my breasts were beautiful, and I wondered if you thought so, too, and how you might be lying in bed, next door, thinking about how nice they were – and maybe even thinking about them as you felt Mary's and ......"
Mike was studying her as she spoke. Her thighs were pressed close together, and her voice sounded breathy and jerky. Her tongue occasionally darted out to wet her lips, and the colour was rising in her cheeks. His balls tightened and his cock began to stiffen ......
"...... and, while I made love to Mary, you thought I might be thinking about you – about making love to you, instead?" he said, softly.
"Yyyeeessss," breathed Alyson.
"And I was thinking about your beautiful breasts while I was feeling hers?"
"And wishing my hands were fondling yours – instead?"
"And what did you do – while you were imagining that?" Mike persisted.
"I – I was touching myself," she breathed, her face down, but her eyes upraised, looking directly at him.
Mike stood up and went over to the window, drawing the curtains. The light was failing – it was a reasonable thing to do ......
Turning, he looked down at her. Her eyes were still on him. Her tongue slid out and ran round her lips, and she took another drink from her glass. She put it down on a side table.
Suddenly, he was unsure – he had thought ...... but, no. She was still the girl next door – and, with the way things were with June – her mother, for God's sake!
"Well ......" he said, then stopped. He was completely at a loss what to say, or do ......
Alyson stood up, slowly. She bent down and picked up the empty wine bottle.
"Is there – another one of these?" she asked. "I've decided to stay the night with Mum and Dad – I think I can risk another glass ......"
Mike took a deep breath as she handed him the bottle. As he dug out a replacement, in the kitchen, he tried to get his pulse back to normal. It had been a close thing. He had nearly made a complete fool of himself ......
The cork came out with a loud 'pop' and, giving his head a shake to clear it of foolish thoughts, Mike blew out his cheeks, and returned.
He pushed open the door. Alyson had moved to the settee – the left-hand end. It wasn't the same settee as on 'that night', but it, and she, were in the same position.