The Absurdity of Assumptions

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PayDay
PayDay
55 Followers

He was about to roll up the windows, but laughed aloud to himself. "Not in the city anymore, asshole," he uttered and stepped out of the car, flicking the air switch to let the car down. He was still staring at the house, while the car hissed, and slowly dropped, when he felt someone staring. He looked left, noting the shiny antique pick-up, then to his right, where Yule saw her.

She froze him in place.

***

"Fucking kids," Jillian thought as she stood on the porch, with the air rumbling and the noise almost deafening. There were only a few, in town, who had trucks this loud, she could hear them occasionally through the walls of the hardware store or at night, off in the distance. Though, not a one of them lived in this neighborhood. "What the fuck are they doing around here, this fucking early," she said aloud, she was mad; she only cursed when she was mad - or horny.

Then the car turned the corner, it was purple, dark purple, almost black, and looked like it was a few inches short of touching the ground. It was then that she heard the song, and the words over the rumble of the exhaust and subwoofers. She knew it; her father played it when she was younger. Now Jillian was furious, and confused, as she watched the car pull into sweet old Mrs. Davies driveway, shutting down a few moments later. "Way to wake the fucking neighborhood," she spat, looking around at the shades of the sparsely laid out houses moving to the side. Everyone (which isn't many), as far as she could tell, was looking.

"Not in the city anymore, asshole," was all she heard as the object of her anger stepped out of his car to a hissing sound. The car, as strange as it was to her, slowly moved until it was touching the ground. It was covered in road grime, but she could tell it was still nice. Chrome here and there, the paint reflecting below the patches of dirt, the occasional sticker in random places. Jillian had never seen a car quite so different, as they were usually covered in stupid multi-colored graphics like the movies, nor had she ever observed a man quite like the one that stepped out of it.

He looked tired, very tired, he was slightly hunkered down, but still standing tall, the expression on his face was pure relief. His long sleeve plain white t-shirt was just tight enough to show his definition, and Jillian absorbed it. He was well over six feet, and lean, with his head shaved low, but not bald. His sideburns were long, and he had a few days beard growth, quite scruffy. He had an unlit cigarette in his ear, and sunglasses on the top of his head. His skin was light, but tan, the effect more than likely caused by the contrast of how black his hair was. She just watched him ponder the home for a moment before he started to look around.

When their eyes met, his jaw dropped, and Jillian smiled. It was actually quite flattering for this grown up teenager to so boldly show approval. She was still a little angry, but her body betrayed her mind as she began to smile. "This could be interesting," she thought.

Yule's brain was saying: "You are staring with an open mouth you idiot." Despite it, his body would not listen. He could not remember ever seeing a sexier blonde. She blew all the bleached ones from the city from his mind forever. A few seconds after she waved to him, he snapped back to reality with a head shake, smiled, and then returned the wave.

He was too tired to do this right, he knew it, and he had to run. Reaching into his pocket, he hit the button on his key chain and popped the trunk. "Look at the car, concentrate, go to the trunk, grab your stuff, walk in before she comes over," he was repeating the instruction silently to himself and following as best he could. He stumbled a little as his brain screamed "BLONDE!!" but succeeded in grabbing his back pack and sleeping bag, closing the trunk behind him.

When he came around to the side of the car, ready to make a b-line to the front door, she was standing directly in front of him. He had no where to go, and again had the stupid, slack mouthed look on his face. He really was speechless, and for some reason, he hoped he didn't smell. In the back of his mind, perhaps off in the distance, he heard someone yelling "racecar" or something close to it, but he couldn't be sure.

"Hi there, Jillian Clark, it's a pleasure to meet you," she had her delicate hand out. Yule looked at her hand, then at her slightly exposed midriff, then at her perky breasts, then at her face, a face with its glowing, reflective green eyes.

"SHAKE HER HAND ASSHOLE," his brain was screaming at him again, because it knew he was not a people person. He suddenly felt more nervous than the first time he was in combat. "I, uh, wow, hi," was the best Yule could muster as he grasp her hand. It felt like static shocks and porcelain, and appeared much smaller against his own.

"...and you're name is?" Jillian was loving this, her anger now faded. He was much taller than her, and looked even better up close. She could tell he was attracted to her, and his genuine 'fresh out of bed' look, along with his obvious nervousness, was one of the sexiest things she ever gazed upon. He smelled like a day old worn shirt, warmth, and coffee.

"Um, uh, Yule? Yule Chinski?" he honestly couldn't remember if he had it right.

"Are you moving in?" Her voice was like music, and Yule could smell delicate flowers. He was beginning to think he was going to pass out, faint, right on the spot. His hindsight was kicking him in the ass for not staying at a hotel - and for not bringing flowers for her - before he arrived.

Jillian was smiling in and out, especially since his slightly rough hand had not let go of hers. His eyes were the bluest things she had ever seen, and they put the sky in its place, making it seem ugly.

"Are you moving in?" She asked him again, a slight quizzical look on her face. She understood he must be extremely tired; she'd chastise him about the music later. Her mind ran with thoughts of teasing him further, but assumed that he might pass out from over stimulation.

"TALK ASSHOLE," his brain finally made it through. "Uh.... What? Oh, yes, I am, well sort of, my stuff doesn't get here 'til Wednesday, but yeah, basically." It was then he realized that he was, essentially, holding her hand, and snapped his own away, shoving it into his pocket. He almost apologized to her, but caught himself. She giggled, and he almost groaned, his face twisting with held back pleasure. He kept trying to think of something to say, but he was too tired, he needed sleep, he hoped he would be able to try again, after some rest.

"You look tired, long drive?" Jillian asked, she knew the answer, he could only nod. "Well, I'll leave you alone, but before I skedaddle, mind if we use your pool today?" As Jillian continued, Yule could only think 'please don't leave' for a few moments, until he could no longer ignore his brain. It was screaming for him to respond, trying to remind him how not enjoyable fainting is.

"What? We?" he said aloud, finally, while thinking: "Please don't be married." She had a ring on her right hand, but he couldn't remember what finger, on what hand, meant married. "Idiot," was what his brain said to him, and he knew it was right. He was in his thirties, thankfully, finally, and he still did not know what married women looked like. He continued with, "The pool? I guess I could clean it up before I get some rest, if it's not too bad, then I wouldn't mind." Sleep could wait if she needed something. "This is what normal men do, right? They do what women ask of them," he internally monologued to himself, not really knowing the answer.

"Oh don't worry, Denise's dad, Jimmy, he already took care of it. He always does. Myself, Denise, and her kids are the 'we' since you are wondering." She waited for his answer, grinning.

"Oh... ok then, go for it..." Yule was going to say something else, but he forgot what it was. It was involving something about being the only sexual man with two women, but it wouldn't form past the phrase "No husbands?" in his mind, so he kept it to himself.

"Great! Thanks cutie!" Then she bounced off towards the house to his left before he knew what had happened. He watched her ass wiggle all the way to the door though, where she stopped, turned, winked, and then disappeared inside.

"What the fuck..." Yule stated under his breath, cursing himself for having not moved, and for being such an idiot. This was beyond what he had anticipated. He had thought he could slip inside his newfound house before even seeing a person, and the intention to introduce himself was never there.

Yule shook his head, again, until it felt clear as possible, and started towards his new domicile; walking up the classic wooden porch he went, past the screen door, to the solid glass front door with a dark stained border. He unlocked it, walked in leaving the main door open, and dropped his stuff.

Yule took a quick look around, noting the back door. The only other thing he viewed, besides hardwood floors, clean white walls, and thermostat, was the couch in the center of the main room - the last remnant of the previous owner. It was one of those older wool textured couches with the plaid design. He walked up to it, then fell, face first, on top of it, feeling the rough surface scratch his beard growth. As slumber drifted into his mind, and he began to fall asleep, "did she call me cutie?" flashed into his mind. He arrived in Dreamland before he could think about it any further.

***

Jillian hopped into the Rodgers's house, shutting the door behind her, and leaned directly against the smooth wooden surface once it was fully closed.

"Oh my god," she said aloud as one hand went to her chest, the other to her mouth. Steven was at the window, but now he was looking at his Aunt Jill, wondering why she was acting so weird when there were racecars around.

"Come finish your breakfast, Stevie," Denise said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe, turning to quizzically look at her best friend, now clutching her breast and midriff, and leaning against her front door.

"But moooom, racecar!" The small boy was pointing out the window in cute, childhood awe.

"Ok, honey, you can go look at it after you finish your breakfast, but no touching, got it?" Denise said to her child, amused by his fascination.

"Okie-dokie!" the boy said and ran into the kitchen to finish his pancakes; his mother patted him on the head as he passed by. He had run up from the table at the sound of the bellowing vehicle approaching, the only one in the Rodgers's household who knew what it was. It had almost angered her, until she saw his excitement.

"What? What was all that? What's wrong with you, Jilly?" Denise asked as she noticed her friend's nipples were hard under her shirt.

"Oh my god, Denny, you should see him!" Jillian was looking at her friend with a wide-eyed stare.

"Who? The noise maker?" Denise had not enjoyed the various nick-knacks, windows, and tableware rattling throughout the home.

"Our new neighbor!" Jillian was excited, it was infectious. "Don't worry about the noise, he's hhhot!"

"Oh really?" Denise was interested now. "How hot? One to ten?"

"Twenty, easily a twenty. He looks like he's sculpted out of marble. I couldn't get much out of him, he was kind of tired, but, ugh, what a babe. He can't be much older than us." Jillian was getting wetter than she already was just thinking more about him. Saying it aloud didn't help much. "Oh, and he said we can use the pool."

"Thank goodness." Denise was relieved. She had been too horny for months, unsatisfied by the local fare, and the pool was just what she needed today, sun and relaxation always did the trick. "Want some coffee?"

"Absolutely." Denise turned and walked into the kitchen, with Jill bouncing behind her.

***

Yule snapped awake, covered in sweat. He hated that dream, it was the worst. He shook his head until it felt clearer, rubbing his temples. He had thrown his shirt, belt, and socks off at some point while asleep. He now sat in only his jean and boxers.

The house felt like a furnace. "Air conditioner," he said aloud and walked toward the thermostat he saw on the way in, his boxers too low, pants even lower. He should have turned it on before he fell asleep, but he could not remember why it was important.

It was still light outside, but he honestly had no idea what time it was, or what day, having no watch, and having given his cell phone to a homeless man as he walked out of the office of his financial adviser.

"He needed it more than me," Yule spoke aloud, and laughed to himself at the thought of no more ties to his old life. He had zero family, and the only things he needed from that life were in a manila folder in his backpack which he was now sifting through.

"No more schedules..." he mused aloud to himself as he started to look around for the bathroom, toiletries bag and towel in hand. He needed a shower, he needed to shave, and he was disgusted by his own breath.

After successfully locating the bathroom, which was nicer than he thought compared to the pictures he had seen, he turned on the hot spray and stripped. Grabbing his bar of soap and a washcloth, he stepped under the hot spray, his morning (afternoon?) wood glad for the hot wetness. While soaping himself up, the thought of the tight blonde he had met this morning flashed into his mind. "Cutie..." he repeated out loud to himself as he grasp his member at the base, leaving plenty to spare, and began long, slow, soapy strokes.

Fresh, clean, and released, but still hard as steel, Yule wrapped a towel around his waist and went to work on the teeth and beard. He couldn't help but continue to think about the gorgeous blonde. Was she natural? He didn't know for sure, but her softly tan skin and green eyes quickly turned into a squirming, writhing, sweat soaked blonde, taking it from behind.

"Man, you need to calm down," he said aloud, "You have to live next door to her." He spent a lot of time by himself and had somehow made a habit of occasional thinking out loud. He hadn't had sex in years, self imposed celibacy. He didn't think his penis would ever really forgive him. He knew his manhood was sick of novels and work trying to cloud the multitude of thoughts away.

He cleaned up the mess he made, and walked downstairs to grab some shorts, a smoke, and his Zippo. Throwing on the thin netted shorts he had brought, he walked to the sliding door at the back of the house, and quietly stepped outside.

The vision can only be described as epic.

The entire back of the yard was lined with trees; so tall, they must have been there since the world began. The wooden privacy fence was lined with a foot wide border of wildflowers that stopped in two small patches where the gates in the fence were. The lawn was dark green, with an angled checker pattern mowed in, not a bare brown spot to be seen. The patio he was standing on was tucked into the architecture of the house, the master bedroom being directly above it, to shade the sun and rain.

None of this compared to the pair of bodies, twenty-five feet in front of him. They were so close to each other that lesbian fantasies flashed in his mind, and his mahogany hardened more than he knew it could. They were the exact same height. The blonde, he remembered as Jillian Somethingorother, was on the right, in yellow fabric that should not legally be called a bathing suit. He was right when he thought her to be taught, she was five workouts from having too much definition.

On the left though, was a body for magazines; it almost put the other to shame with its soft, fit curves. Yule had never seen a more perfect ass in all of his life. "A technician close to god," was muttered almost inaudibly, under his breath. Her black bikini was much larger than Jillian's, but still revealing. For the life of him he couldn't remember what Jillian had said her name was. "This could get interesting," he thought as the sound of giggling children finally broke the lust barrier in his mind.

He stared at his silver Zippo for a moment, and the engraving "You never forget the life you save, and the life you save will never forget you" on the side, the letters "PFI" on the top. He let out a breath, flicked it open, and lit his coffin nail. Apparently the metallic sound of the lighter caught some attention; he hadn't thought it was that loud. He would have caught their attention sooner had he closed the sliding door, but he convinced himself that he was letting the heat out.

"Hi Mr. Chinski!" He heard swimming children yell as the pair of lovely women turned to look in his direction. "She must have said something," he thought silently, this time.

Jillian, on the right, turned to her left, and Denise, on the left, turned to her right. Lesbian fantasies flashed in his mind again as they waved to him, Jillian yelling: "Hi, sleepy head!"

He returned their wave, sucking on the cigarette, and willing his rod to shrink. It barely listened, until he ran visions of standing in front of a high school class through his mind. It stayed semi-hard, just enough to be noticed. He could see the beauties chatting amongst themselves.

"You were right, he's gorgeous, just look at him... and tattoos," Denise commented quietly to her friend. Strangely, to Denise, he looked like a bad boy with an earned innocence. Both women had their sunglasses on the ends of their respective noses.

"I didn't know he had tattoos either, yummy, I saw him first," retorted Jillian.

"We'll see," commented Denise quietly before raising her voice to say, "Why don't you come on over, hot stuff," and making a 'come hither' motion, then turning her attention back to her swimming children. They might have been old enough to swim alone, but motherly instincts always win.

"Hot stuff..." he said aloud, quietly, causing him to smile. Almost six years in the city and he had never heard someone say something nice about him unless they wanted something. Now, it had happened twice in less than one waking hour. "So this is what 'home' feels like," he thought. Realizing this was his yard, and his home, he had no reason to decline.

Like a ninja, Yule flicked the cherry off of his cigarette, and set the remainder, along with his Zippo, onto the corner of the patio. He adjusted his loose, ill-fitting shorts as best he could, and started walking towards his new neighbors, cursing himself for his hasty, suddenly uncomfortable, attire.

Jillian, who had not stopped staring at him, quickly tapped her friend on the arm when he began walking over. As solid as he was, the simple act of walking made his muscles ripple, and when Denise turned to look, she couldn't help but coo. Both women were suddenly getting moist, and Jillian noticed her friend go slightly flush; barely noticeable, under her tan to the untrained eye. She was going to laugh at her friend and say something smart; until she saw his shorts fall to the height of low rider jeans. The sight made her skin rush goose bumps to the surface. He had hips like those idiots from that reality TV show.

"Hello, again. Jillian, right?" Yule was pointing at her, smiling casually, slightly, a foot or so away from the pair of ladies.

"Yep, Jillian Clark, and this is my best friend, Denise Rodgers," Jillian was fighting the urge to touch his abs and chest, and as he turned with the outstretched hand to Denise, she licked her lips. Both women's nipples were suddenly made of diamond.

"Hello Denise, nice to meet you. Name's Yule Chinski," he said aloud, shaking her hand, but all he was thinking was that her tits should be illegal, and also government regulated. He almost looked straight at the sky, and said 'thank you' for being put in this situation. Yule fought to look at her hazel eyes instead, barely winning.

PayDay
PayDay
55 Followers