The Good Neighbor

As usual, I was running late. Commuting forty miles to work and laying brick six days a week tends to get a little tiring. So, last Friday night, I was ready to kick back, eat take-out, and relax with a few cold ones over a ball game on TV. It looked like a spring storm was on the way, so I was hustling to get home. Keeping the house after my divorce had set me back financially, so I needed all the work I could get. I was concerned with how I could afford to send my daughter to college next year. She was still living with me, but had her sights on attending the state university. That would require me to borrow more from the bank and keep the old truck running for another year too, I figured.

I stopped at the local grocery for cold beer and snacks. Parking the pickup, I gathered a cart and went in, just beating a rain shower. Focused on my mission and in a hurry, I didn't notice another shopper as I rounded the end of the aisle. I got a glimpse of a beautifully rounded ass as she was stooped over collecting a can she had dropped. Not able to stop, I bumped that ass with my cart.

"Oops, I'm so sorry," I exclaimed, as I backed away. "I'm so clumsy, please forgive..." Just then she straightened up and I recognized Helen, my neighbor from across the commons. "Oh hi Helen!"

"Hi, Ron. No problem. I'm the clumsy one. I can't seem to hang on to anything today." As she turned to face me, I was reminded of how I had always lusted after this woman who radiated classic beauty. Her northern European face was framed with long dark hair. She was casually dressed in khakis and sandals. My eyes wandered to her loose fitting blouse and I imagined what the fabric was hiding. Over the seven years we had been neighbors, I had seen her dressed in everything from bikinis to formal gowns. Well endowed, she might have been hard to fit, but her choice in clothes had always been sensible, and sexy.

"Gathering supplies, I see."

Helen placed the can in her cart. "Just a few things for the weekend. Jenny likes those snack cakes with the sprinkles on top, but I can't seem to find them," she said, looking around.

"You mean those?" I said, pointing to the top shelf. "Mary likes them, too."

"Oh, yes," she replied. Before I could assist, she reached up for a box. For a moment, her bare midriff was exposed, and I got a hint of the curves hidden beneath that sexy blouse. She stretched to reach it, swinging a leg for balance. Her heel collided with my ankle.

"Sorry. It's getting to be a habit, us bumping into each other," she said as she smiled over her shoulder. I could not help but wonder exactly what it would be like to really bump her. Even though my mind was tired, my body was reacting to her smile.

"It's OK. Say, do you have time for a cup of coffee?" I asked hopefully. I hadn't had a real conversation with this beauty since the previous summer when we had a block party.

"Sure, if you are not in a hurry," she replied. I thought she was giving me the eye, but it was probably my imagination. Looking into her eyes, I forgot why I was in such a hurry just a minute before.

"Let's sit over there at the snack bar," I suggested.

Parking our carts out of the way, I poured two cups, paid for them, and we sat at a small table near the back wall. The table was small enough that our knees brushed together as we settled in our respective chairs on opposite sides. I tried to give her space, but she seemed comfortable being close. We talked about how glad we both were that the workweek was over. I knew she worked at a local car dealership helping customers with loans and warranties and such. Having no firm plans, she said she was looking forward to catching up on her chores, and relaxing with a movie or a book. I knew she was a mother to a bright girl, Jenny, who was a senior in the same high school as Mary. We had met several times at various school functions, and car-pooled our daughters on occasion. Jenny was a scholar, with hopes of attending Yale and pursuing a law degree. Helen suggested that several scholarships were waiting for Jenny upon graduation, and I felt a little jealous, since Mary's grades were adequate for college, but not scholarship material.

Half an hour passed quickly as we talked about generalities, relaxing with the warm coffee. I felt at ease with her, and she seemed comfortable as well. Lost in her light blue eyes as we talked, I fantasized about seeing her again. I knew she was a single mom, caring for Jenny, just as I was newly divorced with custody of Mary. Jenny had suffered from polio as a young child, forcing her to wear braces on her legs as a child, but otherwise she shared the same classic features as her mother, except for Jenny's bright red hair and somewhat thinner body. Being pretty and smart, Jenny radiated confidence to the degree that one hardly noticed her handicap. Having outgrown the braces, Jenny still occasionally using crutches and that restricted her social life. Helen explained that Jenny was experiencing growing pains, as any late teen is bound to do. She expressed that, since her father died when Jenny was in grade school, she had been lacking a father figure for twelve years.

"I can't believe that anyone could have done a better job raising her than you, from what I've seen," I said.

"It's just that I think she's missed out on so much, not wanting to go to parties and such, but at the same time it's a relief to know she's been safe from those teenage boys!" she said. "As close as we are, she's been asking questions that I'm not sure how to answer, but we get through it for the most part."

Thinking I had monopolized enough of her time, I began to excuse myself. "Guess I'd better get back to my shopping before Mary sends out the dogs looking for me," I said.

"You know," said Helen, "there is one thing I'd appreciate your help with."

Anything you want twice over, I thought. "What's that?" I asked.

"I wonder if you could help me out with a male perspective on a couple of things that Jenny has been curious about."

"Sure, I'd be glad to help," I said. I thought that it would give me an opportunity to see Helen and rack up some brownie points with her.

"Why don't you come over tonight around seven? We'll have a supper and pick up where we left off," Helen said, winking slyly.

"At your service, ma'am," I replied. "See you at eight."

As we parted, I could not help but notice she seemed to put a little more wiggle in her walk. I felt a little lighter on my feet as well, feeling good about this opportunity. Adding a bottle of wine to the list, I gathered up what I needed, paid the bill, and left for home. The rain had stopped, thankfully, and the air had a fresh clean scent that only presented itself after a spring shower. Maybe it was because my attitude was definitely adjusted, but I no longer felt tired as I arrived home.

Mary greeted me with a wave as she was heading out. "Got to run to Janey's house. She's baking cookies with her Mom. I already ate leftovers for supper. It's OK with her if I stay over there, if it's OK with you," she rushed to say.

"I guess so, honey. Do you have everything you need?" I asked.

"Yes, Dad. See you in the morning, and thanks."

"Sure thing, honeybun. Take care driving. It may be slippery yet." I said.

"Oh Dad, you know I'm a great driver!"

"I know, Mary. I love you, sweetie." I waved as she bolted for her little white Wrangler.

"Love you too!" And she was gone.

I had time to shower and shave before going to see Helen and Jenny. I took extra care and felt a little silly. "It's not a date, you idiot," I said to my mirror self. But it seemed like one, and I wanted to make a good impression. Not knowing exactly what role I was expected to take tonight, I dressed conservatively, figuring I could act the male role model, friendly neighbor, or all-around good guy, whatever was needed. New jeans and a golf shirt should do. Checking out my hair (again), I wished it didn't have the silver temples. Could it be butterflies? For god's sake, man, I thought. Get a grip on yourself. You're 38 years old, not a little kid on his first date. Nonetheless, I couldn't help but hope that I'd make a good impression.

Grabbing the wine, I cut across the backyard, through a hedgerow, to the rear of Helen's house. It was a private yard, with an elevated deck and a Jacuzzi in the corner. I could see through the second floor back window since the shades were slightly open. I caught motion behind the curtains. Before I looked away, I spied Helen through the crack. She had doffed the blouse and was removing her bra. With no realization that I was in her backyard, she slipped it off and tossed it away. Facing the window, I thought for sure she had looked out and seen me agape in her back yard. For a moment she was half naked in full view. As much as I felt guilty looking, I couldn't tear away from the sight of her firm round breasts as she reached up to get a v-neck sweater, pulling it on without a bra. The thought of her swinging free under that sweater was going to affect my concentration this evening, I reasoned. Dashing around the house to the front porch, I climbed the steps and rang the bell.

It was Jenny who answered. "Hi Mr. Evans. Come on in," she welcomed me.

"Thanks," I said, stepping inside. "You are looking especially lovely this fine evening," I commented honestly. In fact she was radiant. Her freshly cleaned red hair had been brushed to a copper luster and fell to her bare shoulders. The spaghetti strap dress she wore was silky green, complementing her eyes to perfection. Bare feet were somewhat incongruous to the outfit, but with red painted toenails, she posed a strikingly beautiful sight. Her figure, while not as fully rounded as her mother's, emphasized her long legs and perky breasts. There was definitely nothing immature about her demeanor as she looked at me with those big round green eyes. She definitely has her mother's good looks, although in a fresh redhead sort of way, I thought.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm glad you like it. I picked it out special for tonight," she added.

"Oh, really? What's going on with you tonight?" I asked.

"I meant for you...I mean tonight... I mean for here, now," she stammered, flushing slightly. It was cute, I thought. Looks like little Jenny's not so little anymore. Admittedly, the sight of her (obviously) braless upper body sliding under the dress was enough to bring a rise to me. However, I reasoned, I should not be thinking those thoughts about this girl, barely eighteen.

Covering the conversation gap, I said, "Here's some wine. You better put it in the fridge to cool." I moved behind her into the kitchen, sensing that she was moving a little slower than necessary on her crutches, allowing me to fully enjoy the rear view of her hips and ass. I didn't mind a bit, the sight was quite sensual, even if it was not intended to be.

An aroma in the kitchen kicked my appetite up in a flash. "What's cooking?" I asked.

"Mom's had a crock pot stew cooking all day. It's almost ready. Hope you can stay," she invited.

"Smells like my favorite meal, one that I don't make very often anymore," I said, looking around. Candles were already lit on the table and around the dining room, making the atmosphere very aromatic and sensual.

"I hope you can stay, too, since I already invited you," said Helen as she entered the room. With plenty of cleavage exposed and loose fitting slacks, she appeared comfortable and confident. She had applied just a touch of makeup and brushed her dark hair so that it flowed freely and curled on her shoulders. Like Jenny, she was barefoot.

As I noticed, she said "You can kick off your shoes, socks too if you want. I plan to be as comfortable as possible tonight. I hope you do too." She smiled seductively, getting my hormones flowing again. Being in the presence of these two lovely ladies was beginning to arouse senses in me that had been dormant for several months.

"Definitely, I do," I said, kicking off my loafers and moving them to the hallway. "I brought some wine, if you want a glass now."

"Thanks, that's nice. One for you?" Helen asked.

"Yes, please," I replied. I could sense a relaxed atmosphere between mother and daughter as well as between them and me. The wine was served and we toasted to the weekend. Jenny helped herself to a Coke.

"That's good wine. In fact, I've got more of the same, if we kill this bottle," said Helen.

"None for me, I know," Jenny stated. "Someone has to keep a clear head," she added, giving a smirk at her Mom. I had a feeling that they had discussed this evening prior to my arrival, but thought it was just to prepare Jenny for the discussion Helen spoke of. Although I did not know specifically what would require my input, I was beginning to feel quite mellow and more comfortable in their house with each sip of the wine.

The dinner was informal and quite delicious. Our conversation was light and continuous, mostly concerning mutual acquaintances and Jenny's school. I recalled an amusing, if somewhat self-depreciating, story of my high school years that they thought was quite funny. Jenny's youthful giggles were a delight to hear. At one tine, I felt a foot brush my leg under the table and passed it off without comment as an accident. When it happened a second time, I glanced at Helen, but she seemed unaware. Could it be...? No, I thought, it can't be Jenny. But the uncertainty was slightly unsettling.

Having finished, I offered to help clear the table. "No, that's Jenny's job tonight. Let's us go into the other room. Another glass of wine?" Helen asked.

I said yes and poured for us. We moved to her living room, which was tastefully decorated in traditional overstuffed seats. The view form the large picture window overlooked a field as yet untouched by housing. The clouds had receded to the horizon and the sun had already set behind them. We settled on the couch looking out at the sunset's rosy glow on the horizon.

"I'm glad you accepted my invitation, Ron. It's really good to see you for more than a few minutes as we pass on the street, or wave from our backyards. I've told Jenny that we need to have a little talk tonight. I think she's prepared with questions. I hope you can be comfortable in talking with her about what ever comes up. We both appreciate a man's perspective. There hasn't been a father figure in her life since her Dad died."

"I'm sorry. You mentioned that earlier. Anyway, I'll do my best," I said.

"Oh that's what I'm counting on," Helen said with that quirky smile. I blushed a little at that, still flushed with the wine, and awed by the presence of this stunningly beautiful woman who seemed to value my opinion and trust me to talk with her daughter.

We watched the last of the evening orange fade to dusky gray, sipping the last of our wine. Jenny entered. "All done Mom."

"Good, honey. Come on in and have a seat." Jenny dropped her crutches, plopped on a love seat across from us, curling her bare legs under her and tossing an arm casually to her side. I noticed that her dress had pushed up to mid thigh, making her legs look even longer. Staring, I could not help but think that these can't be the legs of one affected by polio. They are too shapely, too tan, and too sexy with her red-tipped nails.

"You are a good help to your Mom, Jenny," I said, raising my gaze to her eyes.

"Thanks, Mr. Evans."

"Please call me Ron. I think your old enough."

"OK, Ron."

As the sunlight dimmed, I noticed that Jenny had lit several candles behind us giving a flickering muted glow to the room.

"How about some music, Ron? Something soft to keep the mood?" asked Helen.

I agreed. She rose to turn on a CD player, preloaded with a selection of instrumental music. Jenny switched hips to sit on, giving me another tease of upper thigh, with a little smirk and giggle. Once again, I thought I was the only one here who was unaware of some secret. When Helen returned to the couch, it seemed she sat a little closer to me. I certainly didn't mind. Being close to her was becoming a new priority. I could smell her perfume and feel her body heat. As she pressed closer, I remembered seeing her half naked earlier tonight. I also hoped that I would not make a complete fool of myself or blow my chance at seeing her again.

"That was a great meal. Thank you again," I said.

"My pleasure," Helen replied. "OK, Jenny, the floor is yours. We want you to be comfortable and know whatever we talk about with Ron will remain confidential. We promise not to laugh or pass judgment. I love you and want the best for you." She arose to close the curtains on the last of the sunset, leaving the only light in the room from the several candles and the glow from the dining room.

"I know you do, Mom. I thought I'd be more self conscious, but I'm really OK with this. So, maybe I should be as honest as I can. Ron, you should know nothing is wrong. I'm not dying of some strange disease or anything. Mom and I talked about doing this with you, and we agreed it was a good thing. I know she likes you. Yes, Mom, I do. And I feel OK with you too."

Deciding that silence was most appropriate at this time, I just looked at Jenny, trying to see her as a young woman. Succeeding in that easily, because of her demeanor and appearance. Helen, who had returned to my side, was silently encouraging Jenny to continue with her smile.

"Well, I'm not very good at this. I've never asked a guy to dance, but Ron, would you show me how to slow dance? I like this music. It should be OK, don't you think?"

"Most assuredly young lady. I would be honored." I arose to help her to her feet, and we moved to a cleared area between two large plants on one side of the room. "First, you want to hold my hand like this, and put your other hand on my shoulder." I placed my hand on the small of her back, and we began to move to the music. "Are you OK without the crutches?" I asked.

"Yes, for a while I'm OK," she replied. The top of her red haired head floated beneath my chin as she stepped easily following my lead. She looked up and said, "Wow, this is easier than I thought. You are a good dancer."

"It takes two to perform a good dance. There's a lot of different styles, most of which I can't do, but I appreciate those that can dance well." Holding Jenny like this, I became more aware of her incredible sensuousness and less aware that her mother was nearby, watching our every move.

"Can I move my hands to like this?" Jenny asked as she placed them on my hips. "I've seen people do it like this. I think I can feel you move sooner, so I can follow easier." Oh, yes, I thought, much better. She drew me closer, within a whisper of her chest and hips. Almost like a hug, we swayed to the sound of the orchestra, occasionally bumping. After one such bump, she did not draw away and we pressed closer.

I looked over her head at Helen, who was swaying with the beat on the couch. Well, I thought. If it's all right with her, it's definitely all right with me. Between the wine, the music, and Jenny so close, I was getting aroused. Thankful for the jeans I was wearing, the bulge should not be noticeable. Jenny may have noticed, but did not pull away. If anything, she pulled me closer, allowing me to feel her breasts against my chest. As the song died away, we stopped, held each other a moment, and parted. She kept her hand around my waist, looked at me and smiled. I wondered what she was thinking.

"That felt so dreamy, Ron. I guess dancing is not going to be hard for me, after all."

Not hard for you, but definitely getting hard for me, I thought. Jenny turned again to me, lifted to her toes, and kissed my cheek.

"Not bad for a barefoot young lady," I stammered.

She held onto my hand and said, "Can we do another? I'm just getting the hang of it I think. And no crutches! OK Mom?"