Love Thy Neighbor

It slowly occurred to me that Hillary had stopped pouring coffee. Tearing my eyes away, I looked up. She had put the pot down and was gazing at me. There was an amused expression on her face. I'm sure I turned beet red, but she didn't seem bothered at all.

"What did you tell Hank this morning?" I stammered, nervously fiddling with a button on my blouse.

"I told him I wanted to know about his day at school. Some bullies are plain mean. Some are mean because they are lost. If you can help them find their way, they'll stop being bullies."

"You should become a counselor or something."

The conversation shifted and my nerves settled. I had fiddled with the button on my blouse until it was undone. Hillary kept glancing down at it. I was pleased to think my little pixie wanted to see more.

This is crazy, I thought but deliberately fiddled with a second button until it was open. If she was going to let me look at her tits, the least I could do was return the favor. Hillary made no attempt to disguise her interest.

I opened a third button. My blouse was undone to below my bra. With a casual swipe of my hand, I exposed my cleavage. Fortunately, I had chosen a fancy bra, light blue with lace. Hillary studied my cleavage with a slight smile. I preened a little at the subtle compliment.

We talked for another hour. She leaned over the table again, using pretext so flimsy I knew she wanted to show me her tits again. I leaned forward with no pretext, though it mostly revealed my bra rather than my breasts.

The scene was almost Victorian. Here we were, calmly drinking coffee and chatting, exposing our bodies in a ritual way and refusing to acknowledge it.

It was also extremely arousing. I knew my panties would be soaked when I got home. I hoped it wouldn't soak through my jeans, but the possibility aroused me even more.

Not wanting to overstay my welcome, I made my excuses to leave. Hillary's hand rested on my back as she escorted me to the door. I tingled with excitement at the touch.

Closing the heavy gate behind me, I leaned back, hidden by the ivy. My hand went down the front of my pants. God, I was hot. The images of Hillary's tits kept flashing through my mind as my fingers thrust into my sopping wet slit.

What was it about this woman that was driving me to masturbate in public?

Having gotten a little relief, I stumbled into my living room and onto my couch. Pants and panties quickly came off. Fingering wasn't enough. I pulled off the rest of my clothes, got my vibrator, and gave myself a good fucking. Pussy, tits, and ass all got a workout.

In the afternoon, I peeked out from behind the bedroom curtain when the school bus arrived. Hillary was waiting for Hank. The look he gave her had daggers in it, but he didn't leave. For every question, there was an abrupt answer until he finally left.

I stepped out from behind the curtain, standing naked in the window, hoping my little pixie would look up, but she walked to her house, never looking back.

The next morning, I was up in time for the bus, standing in the window as Hillary spoke to Hank. To be honest, all this secret watching from the window made me feel like a stalker.

This time Hillary looked up and waved. I blushed for no reason and had to resist reaching for my pussy. With a variety of waves and finger signals, Hillary invited me over for lunch. I spent the next several hours pacing the house. Nervous, I sweated so much I had to take another shower.

Ready to leave, I had second thoughts. Dirty thoughts. Thoughts I hadn't had since college. I took off my bra and put on a yellow blouse. A glance in the mirror confirmed the shadow of my dark areolas was visible.

I hoped I wasn't reading too much into the events of yesterday. Maybe it hadn't been an invitation. Maybe Hillary was an exhibitionist who got her jollies by flashing her tits at strangers.

Practically running to the gate, I had to stop and collect myself. When my breathing was normal, I went through and casually strolled across the grass. Hillary opened the door before I got there and embraced me in a hug.

My tits flattened under the embrace and I nearly died of excitement. I had a quick image. Hillary and I in an orchard, having a picnic, wearing diaphanous, flowing gowns as we fed each other grapes. Shades of Sir Martin and Lady Madelyn!

Part of me said this was ridiculous. I wasn't interested in women in general, and certainly not in a woman more than a decade younger than me. And I was definitely too old to be having romantic fantasies.

Hillary brought the food to the table. Simple sandwiches, salad, and drinks. With each trip, she leaned over the table, showing me her delicious tits.

"Everything looks scrumptious," I commented, glancing at her chest to be sure she got my full meaning.

"Credit the deli for the food. I can't cook a lick. "

I stuck out my chest so my areolas would be obvious. After my little pixie sat down, I stood for no reason and leaned over, allowing her a chance to look down my blouse.

We chatted as we ate with no more overt displays but it was clear we were looking at each other in a more than neighborly way. When we were done, Hillary rose, stood behind me, and massaged my shoulders.

"You look so tense today," she said.

If I was tense, it was due to unrequited arousal.

She squeezed the top of my shoulders, her thumbs loosening the muscles of my neck before traveling down my spine and circling my shoulder blades. Her hands were soft, but her grip was firm.

I could smell the soap she bathed with. Lavender.

Her hands returned to my shoulders, gentle now. Caresses floated across my upper chest. I could scarcely breathe. They slid lower, to the spot where my blouse was buttoned.

Pushing under the thin material, fingertips brushed across the swelling of my breasts. Hillary undid one more button, putting more bare skin on display.

God, my pussy was wet. As foreplay goes, it was an eight on a scale of 1 to 5.

Hillary withdrew her hands and suggested a move into the living room for after lunch coffee. That broke the spell and allowed me to calm down. At least for a while. We chatted about Jefferson's books, my ex-husbands, and Jenna's job. The little pixie sat across from me, her gaze calm and focused.

During a pause in the conversation, Hillary raised her leg and rested her foot on the couch cushion. The short dress slid down and her thigh came into view. Obviously muscular but also delightfully feminine.

I wanted to rip open my blouse and take off my skirt. Encourage her to do the same. But I didn't dare.

The conversation resumed. I flicked my eyes between her face and that bare thigh. She watched, a smile on her face. Hillary waited until I was looking into her eyes. Very deliberately, she reached down and lifted her dress.

Her pussy came into view. Plump, tight, and hairless. Virginal. Exactly the kind of pussy a fair maiden would have. It was beautiful, and I grinned like a fool.

From across the room, Alexa spoke up. "Your daily reminder. The school bus will be arriving soon."

"I'm sorry, but I have to go meet Hank," Hillary said.

She didn't rush to leave. She sat motionless, allowing me more time to gawk at the treasure between her legs. Then she stood and modestly smoothed her dress as if nothing had happened.

As we walked side by side to the kitchen, her arm went around my waist. I meant to respond by putting my arm around her shoulder, but somehow, I found myself grasping her hip instead.

At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to push her onto the kitchen table, lift her dress, and devour that beautiful pussy until she came.

"Thanks so much for lunch. I really enjoyed it."

I staggered toward my house. I knew if I stopped, even for a moment, I would get naked in the front yard and make myself cum. Even rushing, my blouse was wide open before I reached the door.

I heard the squeal of bus brakes as the key turned in the lock.

Tumbling inside, I was a crazy woman: ripping my clothes off, shoving fingers deep inside, and pinching my nipples as I thrashed around on the floor. I had a glorious orgasm that left the floor a wet mess.

Picking up my clothes, I saw my panties were soaked and there was a corresponding wet spot on my jeans. Had Hillary seen? I hoped so. I hoped she knew how aroused she had made me.

So aroused I had two more orgasms before I finally slept.

I watched Hillary talk to Hank at the bus stop the next morning. The boy appeared a bit friendlier. Maybe her theory about him needing attention was right.

Hillary didn't even glance my way. It didn't matter. I had other plans for the morning.

I put on a demur dark blue dress and went shopping. I hoped the outfit would hide my real intentions, just as it hid the fact I wore nothing underneath the dress.

The shopping took several hours since the items I sought were not stocked at department stores. After visiting multiple boutiques, I found exactly what I wanted in an out-of-the-way shop appropriately named "For Her".

It was after lunch and I dithered, trying to find an excuse to visit uninvited. Gathering my courage, I dressed in my new purchases and, like a moth flying toward the flame, headed for Hillary's house.

I knocked but it took some time before Hillary opened the door. She was wearing a wrap-around dress loosely tied in the front.

She hugged me, her hands tripping over my back to settle on my ample butt. I followed her lead and, for the first time, touched her cute ass. Holding hands, we strolled to the breakfast nook.

She fluttered aimlessly about the kitchen, not looking at me, and I feared my sudden appearance might be unwelcome. Finally, Hillary turned and gave me a radiant smile. It was the first opportunity she had to take in my new wardrobe.

The radiant smile turned into something more lascivious.

My new blouse had an embroidered neckline swooped down, emphasizing my cleavage. The rest of the garment was transparent. My 37 year old breasts were braless, the dark areolas and hard nipples quite visible. They swayed slightly with my every movement.

"To what do I owe the pleasure? And it is a pleasure."

"I bought this for you," I said softly, nervously. "Do you like it?"

"Oh, hell yes."

Her eyes sparkled but never left my tits. Leaning on the table, Hillary let her dress gape open, exposing her own tits. Reaching out, one finger brushed over my nipple. I thought my pussy might explode.

"You know why we keep dresses hanging by the door?"

It seemed an odd turn for the conversation under the circumstances.

"When I'm at home, I am always nude. Completely. Naked. When company comes over, I rush to put a dress on."

Hillary's finger flicked back and forth across my nipple.

"Oh my god," I moaned.

"Of course, if someone wasn't company," Hillary continued. "like a neighbor who came over regularly, then I could just stay naked."

I pushed her hand away and stood. The linen skirt I wore was loose, and the fabric flowed in erotic ways as I moved. Only two of the long line of buttons in the front were fastened.

"It would be awkward if the neighbor was wearing clothes and you weren't," I pointed out. "It would be better if you both were naked."

I tugged at the sash around her waist and the dress fell open. I eased the garment over her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. For the first time, I could see everything.

Her breasts were small and pale, cone shaped with puffy areolas and long nipples at the end. I rolled both nipples between my fingers; now, it was her turn to moan.

The labia between her legs were plump and pale and pressed tightly together as if determined to keep out all intruders. The area had been shaved and was smooth as a baby's bottom.

With one step, my little pixie reached me. She quickly undid the two buttons of my skirt. It fell to the ground as I pulled my blouse off.

She licked her lips as she gazed at my full bush. I had shampooed and conditioned it earlier in the day. The nicely trimmed pubes were soft and fluffy.

Hillary stood on tip-toe to kiss me, her warm naked body pressing against mine.

"The living room would be more comfortable," she whispered.

I am not quick and agile like she is, but I am from sturdy peasant stock. I scooped her up and we headed toward the living room. One hand held her up while the other followed the path of her ass crack.

She was panting by the time we arrived. I had defeated the defenses of her labia and was exploring her wet, slippery channel.

I barely recognized myself as the woman who kicked cushions off the couch. Who tumbled onto the impromptu bed with her lover.

It had been years since I had felt such passion. The last time was... in college... with my roommate, Melissa.

Maybe there was a reason why all those men were my exes. Maybe I never should have been with men at all.

Hillary's lips touched my nipple. Her pink tongue emerged to give it a slow lick. I didn't think my nipples could get any harder but they did. A hand groped between my legs.

"Yes," I said over and over, begging for more.

One finger entered my pussy. Then two. Three. Four. Her small hand fit inside and thrust. Slowly at first, then faster and faster.

I was lost, out of my mind with desire. Hands grasped at the cushions, at the floor, at anything that might steady me. My hips were rotating, driving her hand deep into my pussy. I moaned and whimpered as my arousal grew and grew.

The orgasm hit like a tidal wave, swamping my senses, resonating in every cell. I may have passed out.

When I recovered, every muscle was drained dry. I couldn't move.

Hillary was curled up, perpendicular to my body, kissing my breasts and toying with my pubic hair. Periodically, she scooped up the cum oozing onto my ass and ate it.

One hand revived. It followed the curve of her waist to her hip. Followed the curve of her hip to her firm ass cheek, along her crack, and into the wet channel of her pussy.

I probed her hole and stroked her clit. My finger left a damp trail as I caressed the inside of her thighs, returning to tease her clit again. She moaned and squirmed as I fit a second digit into her vagina.

The aroma of wet pussies replaced the scent of lavender bath soap.

I could move again, so I dragged Hillary up my body, first by the arms and then by the legs. Her pussy left a wide, wet trail on my stomach and chest until her thighs straddled my face.

My tongue reached out. My first taste of her delicious pussy. My tongue took a slow journey, savoring every subtle change in flavor and flesh. Her hips rocked and twisted as I lapped and licked, sucked and probed.

I touched her ass hole. She leaned forward to give me better access and groaned when I shoved my finger in. My free hand squeezed her tits and played with her nipples.

Now it was her turn to lose control. She whimpered, squirming, seeking every momentary pleasure.

My little pixie cried out and came on my face. I drank in every delectable drop.

We lay quietly, gently caressing, too overwhelmed to talk.

Hunger and the chill of air conditioning made us move. I literally swept Hillary off her feet, carrying her toward the kitchen. Our bodies, slippery with sweat, pressed together as our tongues slipped in and out of our mouths.

I made my earlier fantasy come true by gently laying my auburn haired neighbor on the kitchen table, spreading her legs, and bringing her to a second climax. It made me cum too.

Raiding the refrigerator for bread, milk, and eggs, I made French Toast for dinner. We spent the night in Hillary's bed, barely sleeping.

In the morning, I returned to "For Her" and bought a pair of diaphanous dresses that would have made Lady Madelyn proud.

My tan lines disappeared as we spent afternoons in the backyard of The Big House, wearing the gossamer gowns or nothing at all, feeding each other grapes, and making love in the soft grass.

Which is where we were found -- naked, sated, and asleep with limbs entwined -- the afternoon Jenna returned from her teacher's conference.

* * * * *

Was this a match made in heaven? Maybe. But not exactly as one might imagine.

Uncle Jefferson's next book is about the erotic escapades of Sir Martin and Lady Madelyn.

Hank the Bully is now Hank the Mildly Obnoxious, thanks to Hillary's counseling efforts.

Hillary moved on to other adventures with other people. She still hasn't finished trimming the hedges.

Jenna and I hit it off. As an English teacher and bookseller, we had a lot in common. We have been dating (and other things) for several months.

I am always naked in my house. Except when company arrives.