Everybody Needs Good Neighbors

Rosalind Colby slipped further down on the couch as she turned another page, the hand not holding the book finding it easier to slide back down the front of her jeans. She hadn't expected the reaction in herself to the story; wondering when last she'd masturbated, as once again, she combed her fingers through her pubic hair, pressing upon her sex.

The doorbell rang just as she found the perfect rhythm and pressure upon her clit, discarding the book and rising from the couch with a sigh. 'Of course!' She bemoaned as she hastened to discover her unexpected visitor.

'Hello,' came the joint and friendly greeting as she opened the door to her next-door neighbors; the Wilkinson's standing arm in arm expectantly before her. 'Hope we're not disturbing you, Rosa,' Phaedra added as Rosalind noticed Barnaby Wilkinson's eyes surreptitiously drop to her chest.

Not expecting to entertain, the tank top she'd donned that morning was admittedly threadbare and with her nipples remaining pronounced from her impromptu stirring of the honeypot, she understood she must have looked completely scandalous. It kindled something in herself, enjoying the feeling of being ogled. How long had it been since she'd been desired? She asked herself.

'No. No not at all,' Rosalind lied, the hand holding open the door so close to Barnaby. Would he enjoy licking her still damp fingers? She mused as he composed himself and finally looked her in the eye.

'Well, we just wanted to let you know we're going away for a week,' Phaedra announced. 'Barnaby's father's taken ill back in Minnesota.'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' Rosalind grimaced. 'Collect your mail?' She deduced their attendance at her door.

'Actually, no,' Barnaby countered. 'Mason's staying home this time.'

'He's 18,' Phaedra added. 'We thought he's mature enough to be left alone for a period.'

'Oh, so...?' Rosalind questioned their joint appearance at her doorstep.

'Well,' Phaedra glanced at her husband momentarily. 'We wondered if you'd just keep an eye on him though,' she contradicted her previous statement. 'Just make sure he doesn't throw any parties or play the music too loudly, that kind of thing.'

Rosalind smiled, thinking of her teenage years. Admittedly wild. 'Don't worry about it,' she laughed. 'From what I know of Mason, he'll be no trouble. But I'll look out for him if it makes you comfortable.'

The Wilkinson's looked proud as they made to back away.

'Thank you, Rosa,' Phaedra said. 'You have our mobiles if anything happens, and we'll be back most likely next weekend.'

'You just focus on your family,' Rosalind smiled. 'Let me take care of Mason,' she assured them. And no truer words had ever been spoken.

*

Rosalind lay in the warm soaking suds of the bath, washcloth across her eyes. Pachelbel's Canon played from the downstairs living room, echoing through the house. With her mind drifting back to the book, Rosalind caressed her breasts beneath the water, her hand casually drifting down her belly to make contact with her now smoothly shaved pubic bone. The horrifying discovery of a gray hair the catalyst for depilation. Delighting in the newfound feeling as she cupped her pussy in her palm. Twice in one day! She mused as she tentatively slid a finger between her labia, gently inserting as her mouth fell open in response. The orgasm not far away.

*

Long satin robe around her otherwise naked body, Rosalind turned off the stereo in the living room and made her way back upstairs. Her own house now silent, the sound of previously unnoticed music playing from without came to her ears, louder as she neared her bedroom window and casually looked out through the parted curtains. Looking across into the Wilkinson's residence, only one room remained illuminated, the curtains remaining as open as her own. In the darkness of her room, Rosalind had a clear view down into the opposite bedroom and there was no doubt as to whom it belonged.

Posters of bands lined the walls and with his window open onto the summer night, Mason's choice of music sailed across to Rosalind's ears unfettered. Was it too loud, she asked herself? Deciding not as she made to turn back toward her bed and embrace sleep. Before she was interrupted. Mason himself entered from outside the frame and lay back upon his bed. The sight caught Rosalind's breath and immediately she raised a hand to her mouth in surprise. The boy was naked.

Feeling herself blush, Rosalind fought against doing the appropriate thing. Closing the curtains and giving her neighbor the privacy he deserved. No. Against her good nature, in the relative secrecy of her darkened window, Rosalind spied. Unable to deny herself, she watched as the boy lifted his phone before his face and took his already erect cock in hand. Ruing the fact her glasses were downstairs, Rosalind made do with squinting to focus upon the sight as Mason began jerking his cock, his hips intermittently rising into his efforts to obviously increase his pleasure. Instinctively, Rosalind had a hand inside her robe, fingers finding her upper thighs already moistened at the vision of youthful beauty not twenty yards away.

And then he was done. The phone dropped to the mattress beside him as a glistening appeared upon his stomach and chest. Long ropes of cum on his tanned hairless skin. It was then Rosalind turned away. Her fingers remaining at her sex as she aimlessly stared across her dark room, a mischievous smile coming to her lips. 'Rosalind, you naughty girl!' She scolded herself for the voyeurism, before once more looking back out the window, seeing Mason unceremoniously cleaning himself up with the aid of a tissue.

'Mason,' she spoke to the empty room. 'You naughty boy!'

*

Naked, Rosalind looked into her full-length bedroom mirror and wasn't entirely displeased. She'd accepted with what had been given to her long ago, admittedly a breast augmentation helping "the girls" stay perky up till what was her 59th year. Was she a supermodel? Definitely not. But passable upon the beach in a bikini where it seemed to her only two types of people ever really felt comfortable; those with perfect bodies and those with completely the opposite.

She ran her hands down her sides and managed to give herself goosebumps, delighting in the feeling as she contemplated what to wear? It came to her eye immediately and she wondered if she could pull it off? An impulsive online purchase that was entirely the wrong size but not worth the cost of returning. She took the dress from the hanger and held it up before herself.

'Let's give it a go!' She smirked.

*

Under the bright morning sun, Rosalind walked out across the lawn of her front yard and skirted the hedge that divided the two properties. Down the path that led to the front door of the Wilkinson's, her heels clicked on the sandstone pavers, quickly drowned out by the music coming from within the house.

It took two rings of the doorbell before Mason responded, the volume of the screaming electric guitars lowering before he cautiously opened the door, shirtless. His sheepish expression, his lithe body, not yet a full-grown man, almost caused Rosalind to rethink her strategy. To call off her plan and simply complain about the noise coming from the house. But then, much as his father had done a day before, she noticed his eyes.

And how could he not respond, she thought? The dress was strapless. Hot pink and merely a piece of stretch spandex with a black belt that circled the waist. Her boobs bulged from it, her ass and pussy desired to escape with every movement. With the coordinated black high heels, there was no doubt what she was aiming to project and Mason's testosterone-fueled teenage gaze was captured at once.

'Mrs. Colby!' He managed to muster as he dragged his eyes up to hers. 'It's about the music, isn't it!? I'll keep it down.'

Rosalind laughed.

'Well, yes. And no,' she added and Mason frowned in response. 'I mean, yes I'm here about the music but it's not what you think.'

More confused, Mason shuffled at the open door and suddenly wished he was wearing more than just his shorts, feeling even more underdressed than his guest.

'I heard what you were playing last night, Metallica wasn't it?' Rosalind questioned and saw the surprise in the boy's face before he nodded. 'I just thought you might like to come and look at my record collection. Mr. Colby...' she used the name Mason had always for her late husband. '... and I were quite the fans of metal in our younger years,' she paused as she listened to herself and realized how old she must have sounded, surprisingly blushing. 'I just mean there might be something you like there.'

'Oh,' Mason seemed in Rosalind's eyes to relax somewhat, realizing he wasn't in trouble. 'Um, okay. That sounds cool,' he replied. 'Ah, when should I...?'

'Well now's as good a time as any,' Rosalind proposed and Mason looked behind himself.

'Ah, Mom and Dad aren't here,' he needlessly informed her and Rosalind smiled.

'That's good. Because I wasn't inviting them,' she winked and saw Mason instantly blush. Like shooting fish in a barrel, she thought.

*

It was cool inside her house and Rosalind's nipples poked out through the material of her dress, something not lost on Mason when she returned from the kitchen with a drink of lemonade.

'Thank you, Mrs. Colby,' Mason politely received his glass and took a tentative sip, quick to find something else bar her breasts to focus upon. 'These are awesome,' he nodded at the open cabinet and the vast vinyl record collection before him, once more blushing as he thought his words could also have described his sexy neighbor's boobs.

'Thank you,' Rosalind smiled crossing her arms beneath her breasts which she realized emphasized them even more. 'But you have to stop calling me Mrs. Colby. Rosa's fine.'

Mason smiled in response and after another sip of the drink placed it upon a coaster upon the coffee table, turning his attention again to the records. 'I've got a poster of them on my wall,' he pulled out an Iron Maiden album and turned it toward Rosalind, in the act of sitting upon a couch. Her knees slightly apart, Mason was able to see directly up her seriously short skirt and in the milliseconds afforded him, he was sure he saw only skin. No panties.

'Really?' Rosalind responded, not directly catching him looking up her skirt but sure enough in his demeanor as he averted his eyes that he'd taken a peek. 'Lincoln... Mr. Colby,' Rosalind elaborated. 'Loved Iron Maiden. You'll find all of their early albums there.' She crossed her legs as she watched the boy flick through the collection, pulling out and examining multiple titles.

'Motley Crue,' Mason ventured. 'They're cool.'

'You know we saw them play at the Whisky a Go Go back in the early 80s,' Rosalind proudly informed him and Mason's eyes widened.

'Seriously?' He asked, to which she nodded. 'Wow. That was like twenty years before I was even born!'

More than, Rosalind depressingly thought. What was she doing? Flashing herself at an eighteen-year-old. No matter what his eyes had conveyed moments before, he wasn't interested in a woman old enough to be his grandmother. She inadvertently recrossed her legs and saw his eyes immediately drop to the area. Or maybe he was?

'Way to make a lady feel old!' Rosalind laughed, and blushing, his gaze quickly averting from her upskirt, Mason apologized.

'I didn't mean it like that Mrs. Colb...' he paused. '...Rosa,' he corrected. 'It's just I mean I didn't know you were so cool.' He wasn't mistaken. She wasn't wearing panties. Twice now he'd managed to see up her skirt and was pretty sure he'd gotten away with it. The problem was his body was doing its best to turn him in. Even as they spoke and he tried to disregard the admittedly hot body below her face, his dick began to harden.

'It's okay Mason, I'm just playing with you. And I thank you for the compliment.' She watched intently as he angled his body away from her. Why? His buttocks filled out his tight shorts and she imagined digging her nails into his flesh. Running her fingers down his back. He pulled out another record and the excitement of the title must have gotten the better of him, turning back in her direction and revealing an obvious bulge in the front of his shorts.

'Kill 'Em All!' He held up the Metallica album. 'It's signed!'

Rosalind's heart swelled as much as the boy's fly. Not only at his obvious arousal toward her, but his excitement for the record. Once more she inadvertently uncrossed her legs as she reached for her drink and this time allowed her thighs to stay apart. On this occasion, Mason's eyes were slower to look away.

'Mason!' Rosalind's pulse began to race as he lifted his eyes cautiously from the album cover. 'Did you just look up my skirt?'

Mason swallowed hard. He looked back at the woman and was unsure if he was in trouble or being seduced. Would she tell his mother what had happened? He'd die of embarrassment. How would his parents go on living next to the woman their pervert son had spied on? Her thighs remained parted. It was almost impossible not to look up her skirt such was the angle she sat.

'I... I didn't mean to Mrs. Colby,' he stammered, his eyes almost instinctively dropping down to the area once more, her legs even further apart. It had to be on purpose, he resolved. 'It's just your dress is so...'

'Short?' Rosalind finished his sentence, looking down at herself, her cleavage heaving, nipples protruding through the spandex. 'It is a little small on me, isn't it!?' She smiled. 'But you can relax Mason,' she said, looking back up at the boy, his cock now a tower within his shorts, demanding to be released. 'You're not in any trouble. You can look if you like.'

With the words, she allowed her thighs to part ever further, the dress inching its way up onto her hip, essentially baring her sex to her young neighbor. Mason again found it hard to swallow. This was really happening.

'I was going to say, your dress looks so hot on you,' he admitted, gripping the album cover, unsure of what to do next. Thankfully his senior coming to his aid.

'You can put down the record, Mason,' Rosalind guided. 'And come a little closer if you like.'

Mason wanted nothing more. The first real live vagina he'd ever seen, only three strides from his erect cock. Was he dreaming? Let me not ever wake! Mason mused as he walked toward the woman, his eyes riveted to the amazing sight, light glistening off the moist labia.

'Why don't you get on your knees?' Rosalind suggested, and as if under hypnosis, Mason did as directed, breathing in the alluring scent from between the woman's legs as he moved ever closer. 'Have you seen a woman's vagina before Mason?' Rosalind asked.

He was struggling to think, let alone form words, and faced with the question, he free-styled.

'Yeah, heaps,' he lied, although he thought, she didn't say in "real life," so technically he was telling the truth. 'Can I kiss it?' He tentatively questioned, kicking himself for not saying "lick" but figuring she'd understand.

'Oh, of course you can, dear boy,' Rosalind delighted, the feeling of being desired, the anticipation of the contact alone almost bringing her to orgasm.

Mason wasted no time. He'd seen it done in so much porn, knew the method of providing a woman oral pleasure, but faced with the reality, overexuberance and carnality took over and he dove in with primal desire. Simply pushing his nose and mouth into her labia, Mason inhaled her cunt. His tongue ventured forth and he found it sliding inside her body, lapping the copious amount of fluid that streamed from her sex. He was addicted. This was better than he'd ever imagined. Why wasn't this taste bottled? He wondered as he smeared his face in her wetness, only the sound of Rosalind giggling above causing him to pause.

'Come here Mason,' Rosalind grinned as his wet cheeks and jaw rose up from her pussy. 'Give me a taste too.'

Mason stood between her spread thighs and wasn't surprised when Rosalind reached out and tugged his shorts forcefully down his legs, his erect cock springing back toward her face. He wanted more than anything for her to suck it, but understood she was in charge and he'd follow her lead. And that led him again between her thighs as she slunk back onto the cushions behind her. Her mouth was upon his and with prior experience making out with girls, for once he knew what he was doing, returning the kiss with skill as Rosalind sucked his tongue between her lips.

'I want you to fuck me, Mason,' Rosalind whispered into his mouth and he immediately responded by trying to find her opening without hands, embarrassingly pushing his cock into her upper labia until he felt Rosa take him in hand and drop it lower. Inside he slid. No feeling better. No words could he find that could describe the sensation of entering another's body. Like velvet, only wet. So perfect a union as his pubic bone met hers, thrusting, once, twice... And then he was cumming!

It was mortifying. Possibly the most embarrassing moment of his life, somehow entwined with the greatest. His closed eyes opened wide as he sought Mrs. Colby's reaction to his accident and he saw confusion tinged with bemusement. A final mostly feeble thrust and his cum was exhausted, his virginal offering deposited entirely within his mature neighbors' womb. And then the horror. What had he done? Could she get pregnant? All of a sudden, the world spun wildly and his reaction was to flee. With an equally as embarrassing squelch, Mason pulled from her and in a shower of cum, dropped to lift his shorts back up his legs.

'I'm sorry,' he offered and was amazed that she was smiling.

'It's okay Sweetheart,' Rosa attempted to soothe him but the damage was done and his rapidly softening cock was taken from her sight.

'Um, I just realized I've got to go,' Mason lied for the second time.

'Oh no, stay,' Rosalind stated, pulling the top of her dress up over her boobs, neither of them having even realized they'd been exposed. 'You haven't even seen all the records,' she added but he was already quickly moving toward the front door.

'Yeah, thank you for showing me and thank you for,' he paused and looked back at her, his face burning with shame at his action, at his reaction. 'But I've really got to go,' almost running the rest of the way to the exit.

Left alone, Rosalind was confusingly satisfied. No, Mason running away wasn't optimal. But she didn't blame him. She'd seen through his bravado, no doubt in her mind he was a virgin. It was then she felt her own sense of shame. His first experience with a woman and it had ended like that. Like it or not, she'd affected his future life, for good or bad? She dropped a hand between her legs and cupped her vagina, a finger slipping between her twice lubricated labia, scooping the boy's cum and drawing it up to her mouth to wrap her lips around the digit. She endeavored to make sure it was for good.

*

It was more than two hours later and showered, Rosalind slipped into a summer dress. The impulse was to forego underwear once more but why not project at least a semblance of chaste she thought, white satin panties drawn up her legs. Something for him to remove, she told herself.

When she exited the house, her heart swelled at what she found left at the top of the stairs to her porch. A vase of flowers; chrysanthemums, roses, geraniums, all obviously gathered from the Wilkinson's front yard and surprisingly well arranged for the time given the perpetrator. Rosalind took the offering inside her house and positioned it pride of place in her living room, right where they'd fucked. When was the last time someone had given her flowers, she asked herself? And sadly, couldn't come up with a date.

*

Unlike hours earlier, there was no music playing from within the Wilkinson residence as Rosalind awaited an answer to the doorbell. And this time, Mason didn't delay in opening to her, almost as if he'd been waiting for her arrival, Rosalind thought.