Rescue

What a week, and a week after that, and another, and so forth, I had that summer!

I was home from college, had lined up a summer internship with one of my dad's friends' companies, and had a week between school and starting that, so was enjoying the post-exam week opportunity to just veg around the house, planning on taking advantage of the folks' lodging hospitality for the summer. I'd done ok in school, and we were all getting along fine, with me expecting my next two months of life to be good, if unexciting; and if that hadn't been about to change I wouldn't be writing this now.

It started, I guess, at dinner at home. The folks had invited the next door neighbors over, Ted and Sheila Blair, and the five of us were doing casual friendly, with me playing the dutiful son being extra polite to the "adults," although I was 20 then myself. Naturally, the "adults" were eating it up, but I'm good at that - no Eddie Haskell, but I know where my bread's buttered and all that.

Mom cooked up a pot roast, one of my favorites, and we were all sitting around. Mr. Blair and my dad play golf together sometimes, although my dad doesn't take it nearly as seriously as Mr. Blair - and of course isn't as good as a result. My mom and Mrs. Blair aren't really close, but they're friends and good neighbors, each with her own life, I suppose.

While I was chowing down on the roast, the Blairs were droning on about the troubles they'd had in recently remodeling their master bath after the Japanese style Mr. Blair had admired on a trip to Asia. Apparently it was a mess for weeks, but they liked the results. My folks were talking up their vacation plans. They were leaving the next day - before dawn, as was my dad's preference for long road trips - for a couple of weeks, driving to visit with my mom's sister near Boston, a day's drive away. They were going to tour around New England, enjoy the warm weather they hoped they'd have, and enjoy seafood and whatever else New England has to offer.

Somewhere in the conversation, Mr. Blair mentioned that he was off the next morning as well, to drive to a business meeting that would take most of the week. I remember Mrs. Blair not being thrilled with that. You can imagine how scintillating all that was to me. I did manage to stay awake, but that was about all.

"Ted, you and Dave - you're always on the road - I thought that you said this last promotion would be keeping you closer to home than before," Mrs Blair complained.

"You're right, Sheila, I did say that, and I still think it's true - but we've got to bring this contract in, and it will take a couple of days to grind out the details. It's going to be rare, but I will have to do this kind of stuff from time to time."

My mom chimed in, I think trying to head off an argument, "Sheila, if there's anything you need while Ted's gone, just call - Will will be glad to help out, right, Will?" She turned to me, and I nodded, half zoned out by the boring adult stuff, half still paying attention.

I quickly tuned in from afar, hearing my name, and mentally backtracked to realize what had been said. I had no idea who Dave was, but it didn't matter. "Oh, yeah, sure. I don't start work for another week, so whatever, just let me know." And, with that, I went back to my dinner.

After dinner, we finished off the second bottle of wine we'd opened - my folks had let me drink, responsibly of course, at home since I'd turned 18, so it was no big deal. We sat around, I did the dutiful fill in the neighbors on how school was going and all. Mom was cleaning the table off, having declined Mrs. Blair's offer of assistance, and my dad had gotten up, probably to go to the head or something, leaving just us three.

"And how's the lacrosse team going to be next year, Will?" Mr. Blair asked. He knew that I was on a team scholarship, and was being blandly inquisitive.

"We barely missed winning the conference this year, and are only losing 3 seniors, so I think we'll be strong," I answered, buttering another roll, even though Mom had already taken my plate.

"Why did you pick lacrosse?" Mrs. Blair asked. I hadn't even registered much of her presence until then, I think, and turned to answer. She'd been next to me all evening, but the conversation hadn't really been between us before that, and so when I turned then, I saw that her blouse was open enough to show a lacy bra edge and a very nice breast pushing up and forward as if wanting not to be contained. Nothing overt, more like I was taking advantage of a wardrobe malfunction she no doubt didn't realize was presenting.

I probably stammered a bit, my focus taken away from answering her, but I wasn't going to pass up the sight, and said, "Uh, back in high school, I played soccer, and then when I got to college they had the lacrosse team and not many guys had ever played it either, so the chances were good to make the team. I found out I like it more than soccer, because it involves the upper body more - time in the weight room, slinging around the sticks and all. And I guess I did ok, because I got the partial scholarship for sophomore year, and then a full one last year, so it's been good. Plus, I like winning!"

That got a chuckle from both men, and I saw Mrs. Blair sort of staring at me. She said, "Yes, I can see where that would be a good sport for a young healthy man - lots of stamina and strength required. I'll bet the college girls think so, too! Is that part of winning as well?" She was teasing, I realized.

Mr. Blair chimed in, "Yeah, I'll bet you have to beat them off with that, what do you call it, a bat?"

"I think that's in cricket - in lacrosse it's just a stick," I answered him, seeing him over his wife's shoulder, not turning away from Mrs. Blair. She had turned more toward me and was still staring, and that increased the view for me. I was still enjoying the cleavage on display, and quickly looked back down, now seeing her two breasts pushed together a bit.

Then came the big surprise - I felt her knee press lightly against mine. I didn't know whether she even knew it, but I sure did. I gave it about a heartbeat to decide whether to jerk away from the contact, or whether to brazen it out. I took the brazen route, and smiled a bit at her. She didn't back away, but smiled back, just as my mom reappeared with dessert plates, and my dad reappeared and sat back down, and the whole spell broke. Mrs. Blair shifted back to face the table, depriving me of that nice view, but leaving me to wonder what the hell had just happened.

The rest of the dinner was uneventful, except that as we moved into the living room a bit later, I got to check out Mrs. Blair more closely. I'd never paid much attention, but she was clearly a damn fine looking woman - not skinny, but a good bit slimmer than my mom, who's not fat herself. She was wearing a flowing kind of skirt that made it hard to tell just how big her ass was, but it wasn't too big, that was for sure, and yet it had a nice rhythm to it as she walked away from me. Those breasts I calculated somewhere between a B and a C - it's so hard to tell these days, with all that bra engineering that goes on. The bra was peach colored, though, I saw enough to know that - and the lace - that was saying she wasn't just doing the utilitarian thing with her clothes, or that's what I figured. She had brown hair, cut sort of but not too short, and carried herself with a posture that said she was in charge but not a bitch about it - or so was my figuring again.

The night went on, and when the neighbors got ready to leave, Mr. Blair shook my hand and said he knew how proud my dad was of me, and that he'd look forward to coming over and seeing a lacrosse game sometime in the next season. Mrs. Blair had faux-kissed my folks with quick hugs, and so I wasn't surprised when she moved toward me. I took advantage of the moment to give her a hug, and she real-kissed me on the cheek, while pressing her breasts more into me than the occasion called for - again, so I was figuring.

Maybe I was fantasizing, all of it brought on by that peach bra and the cleavage and the knee, but I was sure enjoying it, and wished I had an erection to press back into her at the time. But it was just starting to develop as the hug broke, and I thought I was probably glad I didn't have one anyway, in case I was imagining the whole thing.

Anyway, they left, the folks turned in early, after I offered to see them off and they said no, that I deserved my sleep. I stayed up and watched some black-and-white detective film noir thing on cable, my folks having turned in right after the Blairs left.

I was sleeping soundly, I think, when the land line phone interrupted my peacefulness. I don't know why the folks even had one then, cell phones having taken over, at least in my world. But, rang it did, and kept ringing - what, no roll to voicemail?! Then it stopped, and then started again! Damn! So I scrambled out of bed and headed for it, thinking maybe the folks had a breakdown or forgot something.

I answered, still bleary, and heard a woman's voice, sounding desperate, almost but not quite hysterical, "Will, let me speak to your mom, please!"

"Uh, they left hours ago, sorry," I said.

"Oh no! That's right - they went to Boston! Oh, hell!!"

"Sorry, who is this?" I asked, not having much of a clue.

"Ah - this is Sheila, next door!" Everything she was saying was frantic and almost crying. "Ted's gone on his trip, and I've fallen, and I think maybe I broke my ankle!"

"Oh, I can be right over!" I said. "Do you want me to call 911 or a doctor or something?"

"No, no! I can manage, never mind. I just wanted to . . . no, no, no problem. I'll be fine, sorry to bother."

"No bother, Mrs. Blair. It's really no trouble, if you need anything at all. Just call back - I'll be here."

She hung up, and I was awake by then. I showered and such, and pulled on a pair of old thin fleece gym shorts and a basketball style singlet t-shirt, and sat down with my laptop to check email. The phone rang again, and I picked up to hear Mrs. Blair's voice again, still frantic.

"Will, I hate to ask, but I can't manage with this ankle - I need some help!"

"I'll be right over!" I said.

"There's something you need to know, though." She paused, then, "I'm in the bathtub in the master bath. It's this damned Japanese style thing, and it's just too deep for me to climb out of - I've tried, and I can't put any weight on this ankle, and I need you to help me out!" and with that, I heard her start crying.

"No worries, Mrs. Blair - I'll be right there. Is the front door locked?"

"Yes, but your mom has a key to our house - I think she keeps it in the kitchen."

"I'll find it, or I'll call right back - hang on." I said, and hung up.

I found the key, in the junk drawer where I figured it would be, and in the process realized what she'd said - she was in the bathtub?! Which would mean no wonder she was frantic and wanted Mom, not me, to help initially, because she'd be naked!! Yee-hah! This was going to be amazing, one way or another. But, of course she'd have pulled a towel into the tub to wrap around her, but still, I'd have a chance to see, maybe get a quick grope or something, and as a young male, something was always a goal!

Key in hand - I'd already brushed the teeth, shaved, showered, was good as I get - no need for scent - that would just bust me for trying too hard - best to be the Galahad, just there to help, ma'am, pay no attention to the fingers probing as I haul you out - look, no, no - didn't see anything at all. OK, show time!

I let myself in, calling out, "Mrs. Blair, it's Will - I'll be right there!" I also locked the door behind me, just for her security, understand.

"I'm back here!" she called back, and I followed the voice through their main floor master bedroom, further back to the bathroom. Sure enough, the whole look of the room was Oriental - wood slat flooring, and a large straight-up redwood or teak or something wooden tub, next to the much more practical walk-in shower (a Western convenience Mr. Blair put up with for practicality, I guess). I could see Mrs. Blair's head above the water line, and quickly saw, to my disappointment, that the water was pretty opaque, and that the water was steaming, further obstructing the view. I could barely make out her neck to her shoulders, nothing deeper than that. I fully expected that she'd be wrapped, and that I'd do some hoisting, but less ogling and groping than I'd hoped.

"Oh, Will, thanks so much for coming! I'm so embarrassed, me here in the tub needing you to rescue me, but every time I put any weight on this ankle, I can't get high enough to get out, and I've tried every which way to do it on the other foot, but it's too slippery, and that's how I did the thing in the first place, so I'm scared I'll just really be . . . " and with that, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

"Don't worry - we'll get you out, and we'll check out the ankle and then we can call a doctor or I can take you there or something. It'll be ok," I tried to reassure her.

"Now that you're here," she said, splashing some water in her face and stifling the sobs, "I feel so much better, but I'm still embarrassed. The towels are too far away for me to grab, and . . . "

Oh yeah! I was in for a treat after all!

"Oh, don't be silly - let's focus on getting you out of there, and just put that aside!" I said, trying to deflect from the obvious solution of my handing her a towel to cover up before we started lifting. I guess in her pain and her panic, that hadn't occurred to her. And I wasn't about to suggest it now!

"You're sweet to say that, but I'd die if anyone else found out about this - me, naked, being hauled out of the bath by a young strapping neighbor! You must keep this our secret!"

"No worries, Mrs. Blair, my lips are sealed."

"And," she continued, wanting to get her agenda completed it seemed, "that includes your parents, of course. And, as much as possible, I want you to promise not to look! I'm embarrassed enough by being naked. It's worse that I'm so old and all!"

"I can go with 'trying' not to look, but you've got to know, you're way not old and you're not at all 'and all'! You're a - I don't know - a fox? a beauty? I'm not sure what the right term is, without offending you, but it's not 'old and all' - for sure! If anyone were to find out about this, I'd be the envy of all those who were guys - and a lot of the girls . . . but again, they won't find out from me, I promise!"

She smiled, looking somewhat reassured, her hair damp, her makeup nonexistent, her face downright gorgeous in my opinion, but that had been my opinion of her for some time, if I'd taken the time to really think about it. As it was, she was the pretty lady next door, and that was all - and all of a sudden, I was realizing just how beautiful she was, especially without the makeup, and ESPECIALLY without the clothes!

I stood leaning over the tub and said, "OK, just put your arms around my neck." I bent over to reach to her, and the scalding hot water hit my arms. "Yow, that's hot!" I almost yelled.

"Sorry, but I like it that way - once you get used to it, it's the best for a good soak, and of course the Japanese seem almost impervious to the heat, or so Ted tells me," she said, laughing at my reaction.

"OK, let me try again," I said, and sure enough, it seemed that the water wasn't quite as hot the second time in. As I bent over her, she shifted over to face me, and as she raised her arms I saw, for just a flash, her breasts revealed, looking damn good! Remembering to do Galahad, I didn't stare or gasp, just wrapped my arms around her back and started to lift. I got her part way up, and could see, looking down her back, her ass coming into view through the water, and it also looked mighty fine - definitely a woman's ass, smooth and shining in the light through the water. Whether it was because of my being so disconcerted, which I was, or the leaning over angle, or what, I couldn't quite clear her up high enough to get her out, and she was slippery as well. I had to put her back down.

"That's not working," I sort of gasped from the effort, "Let me put you back down for a minute."

I lowered her back, and she squealed, loudly, then said, "Sorry - my fault - I put some weight back on the ankle just then. It's ok - want to try that again?"

"I'm not sure that's going to work - between the slippery suds and the height of the tub, it's going to be tough. Let me think."

I could see she'd crossed her arms over her breasts as I stood there, although there wasn't much to see through the murky water to begin with, even less so now that it was stirred up by our movements..

"I think you're right," she said. "Well, you're just going to have to get in here, too. Then you can lift me up onto the edge, and then you can get back out, and we can go from there." 'Seemed like an ideal solution to me! No further mention of towels yet, and I'd be able to see quite well as I put her up there and clambered back out myself.

"OK," I said, as I climbed over the edge and started into the tub. That's when I realized that my arms being accustomed to the heat didn't mean that my feet were. Yikes! "Sorry again, this is going to take me a minute to adjust, I said, one foot gingerly lowering as I straddled the tub edge.

After a minute or so, I had one leg in and was ready to immerse the other. As I swung my other leg over and dipped jus the foot in initially, I realized I only had on those shorts, and they weren't that long and didn't have a brief inside, and I'd been straddling the tub a minute before, and might have been flashing her inadvertently in the process. And now I was knee in the air, maybe doing the same thing, just hanging out there, my dick and balls obscenely dangling in front of her? She was definitely smiling at something, but I didn't know if it was because I was being such a wuss about the water, or if I'd exposed myself to her, or what.

Now I was embarrassed, and to hide that reaction, I guess, I gritted my resolve and sank into the water, which was almost up to my chest, once in.

"Hah! Ah!!" I exclaimed, feeling like the lobster who didn't get put into the lukewarm water, but just dumped into the boil. Another minute or two, and I was adjusted, and she was right - it was starting to feel great. I thought of suggesting we delay, but then remembered she was in pain, and my job was to rescue her, not my hormones.

My feet found that there was a low bench under the water at one side, probably what she put her weight on trying to get out, maybe what she slipped on in the first place. It occurred to me that she really probably could have gotten out, just leaning on her good ankle, but then I figured the pain was clouding her thinking.

"Let's try that again," I said, bending over her. She put her arms around my neck again, and I got another glimpse of those breasts, and this time got to feel them press into me. I felt my dick lurch a bit and realized at this rate, I was developing a natural reaction to a naked woman in my arms. The shorts weren't going to do much to disguise it, but what the hell - I was on a mission of mercy, right?

I stood up, this time cradling her in my arms, one arm around her, one under her thighs. I had my hands full - one around her chest, the fingers almost reaching to where I knew her breast would start, but not quite. The other had a handful of glorious, meaty, woman upper thigh. My cock knew it and surged a bit more. Determined not to mess up, I tried to push those thoughts aside - good luck with that.

I lifted her up, and now standing about rib deep in the water, got to see even more of her. She had her legs pressed close together and with one above the other, but I did see a lovely hip and great curvature. I set her on the edge of the tub, where she could steady herself bracing against the wall nearby, and then we disengaged and I scrambled back out of the tub. I couldn't resist taking a good look now, and turned to see her, breasts full on - definitely Cs, and with a little but not much womanly heft and resulting sag. Her legs still crossed, and her eyes watching me.