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It was early April when I returned to the house I had spent my entire life in, up until the previous September. I had gone to college on the other side of the country and had been incredibly homesick for the small town I grew up in, a place I had hated until I had to leave. I missed my friends, my neighbours, my parents especially, and I was incredibly excited to see everyone when I got back home. Unfortunately, I was the first of my friends to finish my final exams at school, so I was back in town two weeks before most of my friends would be back. I didn't mind, though – I was okay with catching up with some of my neighbours, my parents, and just generally relaxing until they got back. Most of the neighbours acted as though I had never left in the first place – they just treated me the same way as always.

That is, except for Mr. Parkman, our next door neighbour. He had come over just after my dad and I had gotten home from the airport. I had brought my suitcase upstairs and was just changing into a fresh outfit when I heard him downstairs, talking to my dad just the way he used to. I grinned and finished changing quickly, eager to run downstairs and say hi. The Parkman's had moved in when I was a little kid, and I used to go over and stay at their house whenever my parents needed to go out. Mrs. Parkman was the kind of lady who loved to bake and do crafts, whereas Mr. Parkman liked to read and show me how to carve wood and things like that. I was a bit of a tomboy, and Mrs. Parkman was constantly after me to help her make cookies but I always seemed to find myself with Mr. Parkman in the den, trying to make little animals out of wood. Mrs. Parkman would come in and yell at him for letting me near sharp objects, but I never once cut myself, and even she had to admit I was very careful. I never understood why the Parkman's didn't have children. They would have made great parents.

So I was pretty excited to see the Parkman's after so long. I rushed down to the kitchen, where my parents and Mr. Parkman were standing around the counter, talking about the weather or something equally as pointless, quite obviously waiting for me.

"Oh, there you are, Haley," my mom said, interrupting my dad in the middle of his sentence. She grinned as he rolled his eyes.

"About time, it's been months..." Mr. Parkman said as he turned around. His expression changed as he looked at me, just for a moment, just long enough for me to notice before he covered it up. "Months and months!" He laughed, though it seemed slightly strained.

"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Parkman," I said, pretending not to notice the slight change in his demeanour. I was curious about it, but brushed it off as I stood with them in the kitchen, catching up and telling Mr. Parkman all about my first year at college.

"Sounds like you had a lot of fun," Mr. Parkman said. I nodded eagerly. "Now, for the serious question: how many boyfriends do you have?"

I giggled, blushing a bit. "None, actually," I answered.

Mr. Parkman raised his eyebrows, giving me a look that made me shiver. Neither of my parents noticed, as they were both looking at me, relieved with my answer. I met Mr. Parkman's eyes, silent for a moment, before he broke it and laughed. "No boyfriends? That's got to be impossible, a pretty girl like you!"

I laughed too, blushing, and wondering why I kept thinking Mr. Parkman was looking at me differently. Both times had been short moments, hardly long enough to even mention. I was starting to wonder if I had just imagined it – after all, I was pretty tired, and I hadn't seen Mr. Parkman in a long time. Maybe I was just over thinking things.

"No, no boyfriends," I finally said.

The conversation moved on, ending with my parents inviting the Parkman's over for dinner and drinks later, since Mrs. Parkman really wanted to see me but wasn't home that afternoon. We said good-bye to Mr. Parkman and I went back upstairs, intent on lying down for a little while – I had been travelling all day, and nothing exhausts me more than a long flight and two hour drive from the airport home.

I sat down on my bed when I got back into my room, undoing the buttons on my blouse – I was hoping to wear it again for dinner, and I knew that it would wrinkle if I wore it while lying down. I stood up to lay it on top of my desk chair and had turned back around to lie down when I looked out the window.

Now, there used to be a large tree outside my window, between our house and the Parkman's. For some reason, the tree had been cut down, and I could now see straight into Mr. Parkman's den. I froze for a moment, realised I was clad in only my lacy white bra, and moved quickly to the side of my window so I wasn't totally exposed.

Mr. Parkman was in the den, sitting in a big cozy chair that had been there since I was a kid. Whenever I went over, he would let me sit there, but I always knew that it was his favourite chair. I wasn't too sure what he was doing, but I suddenly had the thought that maybe Mr. Parkman had acted so strange in the kitchen because he realised he could see into my bedroom. The thought made me nervous, but also sent a little shiver of excitement through my body.

I bit my lip as I studied at Mr. Parkman. He was a little younger than my dad, though still old enough to be my father – I'd put him in his early forties, though I couldn't be totally sure. He had thick, dark hair that was peppered with gray, especially around the temples, strong features, and a great body. He wasn't a body builder or anything, but he was in shape, and had broad shoulders, muscular arms, and large hands. I had never really thought of him in that way before, but as I studied him at that moment, I realised just how attracted I was to Mr. Parkman. I found myself wondering what he would be like in bed, and blushed almost immediately at the thought.

The fact was that I was still a virgin. I was a little bit embarrassed about it, but I had only just turned 18 that past December and really hadn't had a chance to find myself a boyfriend at school. I felt exceptionally younger than everyone else, and I knew part of that was because of my lack of sexual experience. The problem was that I felt that being considered younger kept me from getting that experience. I recently had started trying to come up with a way to get some sexual experience, but I was so shy around most of the guys at my school – they seemed so much more experienced than me, and it seemed almost futile for me to attempt anything with all the pretty, experienced girls around.

For some reason, though, I didn't think Mr. Parkman would mind that I didn't know all that much. He had always taught me how to do things, and always seemed to enjoy it. Maybe he'd enjoy teaching me about sex just as much.

I couldn't keep myself from giggling quietly as I thought about Mr. Parkman teaching me how to do things. I thought maybe I'd like him to teach me how to suck cock first. My roommate at college always bragged about how she could get her boyfriend's cock almost entirely into her mouth before she choked. I had only ever touched one boy's cock before, my high school boyfriend Jeremy Gibbon's right after prom. His cock wasn't all that big, but I still couldn't imagine trying to fit it all in my mouth. I did want to learn how to do it, though. I was sick of my roommate bragging about how well she sucked cock – I wanted to be just as good at it.

I sighed, shaking my head before lying down on my bed. As far as I knew, the Parkman's had a good marriage, and I had to be half crazy if I thought Mr. Parkman would even consider me that way. It was nice to fantasize about, though, and there was a warm tingle spreading through my lower body as I thought about it. I was tired, though, and decided to save that warm feeling for later that night, when I had time to deal with it properly.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, I could hear people laughing downstairs. I slowly rolled out of bed, stretching, and looked out my window. Mr. Parkman's den was empty, but that was because he was downstairs in my kitchen. I slipped my blouse back on and smoothed my hair down, touched up my makeup, and headed down to the kitchen.

"Haley!" Mrs. Parkman cried the second she saw me. She rushed up and enveloped me in a big hug. "Look at you, look how grown up you are!"

I giggled and hugged her back. "Not all that much," I said shyly.

She rolled her eyes. "Well you've filled out beautifully, dear, look at you!"

I blushed. I had gained a little more than the projected "freshman 15" over the year, but Mrs. Parkman would listen to none of that. "It was well needed," she said, talking over my protests. "Sweetie, you've always been gorgeous, but you know, now you have some hips, some boobs! That's what the boys like!"

My dad looked at me, assuming his over-protective father role, as my mom laughed. I'm sure I was red as a beet as Mrs. Parkman walked around me, basically checking me out. Not that I was uncomfortable with Mrs. Parkman doing it – it was the same as if my mom was talking about my boobs or ass and that was no big deal – but my dad and especially Mr. Parkman were standing right there listening to the two women trying to determine if my breasts had gone from a B to a C or a D, and to Mrs. Parkman exclaiming over how I had such a nice round butt.

I mean, it was true – before I had gone to college, I had been skinny as a rail. I had no ass, no hips. I guess my tits had been a little large for my small frame, but they were still proportionate at best. As Mrs. Parkman put it, I now had a "nice womanly figure" – I took that to mean the hourglass shape caused by the curves of my breasts and my wider hips. I was absolutely embarrassed – any thoughts I had about Mr. Parkman maybe liking me had vaporized the second they started talking about the pounds I had added. I mean, I might not have been huge, but I doubted Mr. Parkman really liked the fact that I now had a tummy, or the fact that my thighs were considerably thicker than when I had left in September. I pointed out both these facts quietly and embarrassedly to my mom and Mrs. Parkman, but they both just laughed.

"Silly girl," Mrs. Parkman giggled. "Of course you would say that. That hardly counts as a tummy, and your thighs are meaty at most. They're not bad at all, and even if they were, those boobs of yours make up for it. Don't they, Jerry? Our little Haley has become a gorgeous little piece!"

Mr. Parkman cleared his throat. "Diane, I think we're embarrassing Haley a bit," he said softly. Mrs. Parkman looked at me. My face was red and I couldn't even meet her eyes, and Mrs. Parkman touched my arm.

"Oh honey, I don't mean to embarrass you, it's just you've gotten so pretty and so grown up since we last saw you. Even your hair has finally grown out." She touched my hair, and I had to admit she was right about that. I had short, chin length hair all through high school, but while I was school I never had time or money to get my hair cut, so my roommate would just trim the ends when I needed it.

"It's okay, Mrs. Parkman," I said quietly, smiling at her. I tried to ignore the fact that Mr. Parkman wouldn't even look me anymore, and the conversation switched to my activities at college as I set the table for everyone.

Dinner went smoothly after that. Mrs. Parkman told me all about her volunteering and charity work, and I listened politely. She always tried to get me to volunteer with her, but I just wasn't interested in hanging out with a bunch of middle age women trying to clean the highway or whatever it was they did. I needed a real job, and I mentioned that to her when she tried to get me to volunteer with her again.

After dinner, I helped my mom clean the kitchen while my dad and Mr. Parkman talked about what the two older women referred to as "guy stuff." Eventually we finished and while my mom and Mrs. Parkman had a glass of wine, I went and sat with my dad and Mr. Parkman. For the first time since his wife had been examining my body, Mr. Parkman made eye contact with me as I sat down. My dad was talking about his new bar-b-que or something equally as exciting to him, and Mr. Parkman held my gaze, giving me the same kind of look that made me shiver earlier that day. This time, though, he didn't look away. I was confused – I had no idea what was going through his head. All I knew is that there was a warm tingle shooting throughout my body from the look he was giving me.

The moment was only broken when my dad asked Mr. Parkman a question. He looked away from me and answered the question smoothly. It was that look that he gave me that made me sure I hadn't been imagining his strange behaviour earlier, and it only served to make me more curious about what he was thinking. Was he, God forbid, disgusted by me? Or was it the opposite – was he turned on by me? Or, I reasoned with myself, maybe I was just preoccupied with sex and he was just not used to seeing me after so long. I almost laughed at myself when I thought of that. Of course, that was the most likely, and the most reasonable.

The rest of the evening passed quickly, and before I knew it, my mom and Mrs. Parkman had joined us, my mom yawning and Mrs. Parkman gently nudging her husband, quietly saying that she had a charity event the next morning. We walked the Parkman's to the door, and I gave Mrs. Parkman a hug as I usually did. Mr. Parkman shook my dad's hand and kissed my mom's cheek, then turned to me.

I suppose he was going to just say good bye to me, but without thinking I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held my body close against his, just for a moment, before pulling back and smiling. "It's so nice to be back and see everyone again," I said, glancing from Mr. Parkman to Mrs. Parkman and smiling. No one seemed to notice anything about it, except for Mr. Parkman, who gave me another strange look, though this time it looked like he was the one who was nervous. I held his gaze for a little longer before Mrs. Parkman took his arm and they left.

My parents went off to do something and I sat in the living room for awhile, watching TV but not really paying attention. Truth be told, I was just waiting for it to be late enough for me to go upstairs and go to bed so I could finger the hell out of my pussy. The second I had pressed my body against Mr. Parkman's, it felt like my pussy had gotten instantly wet. I couldn't wait to go up to my room, strip down and lie in my bed, knowing that Mr. Parkman might be sitting in his den just over from me, knowing that he couldn't see me when I was lying on my bed but that all I had to do was stand up and he would be able to see my fingers in my pussy.

I wasn't sure what time it was, but the sun had gone down and I couldn't take it anymore. I had been waiting for far too long for it, and hadn't realised I was watching a Portuguese news program until I went to turn the TV off. I had been too preoccupied with continuing my fantasy from earlier – instead of teaching me how to suck cock, my fantasy Mr. Parkman had progressed to eating out my pussy, licking and sucking at my clit, teasing me with what I was imagining to be a very experienced mouth. I was sure my panties were soaked right through, and there was nothing that I wanted more than to slide my hand into my panties and playing with my dripping pussy.

I flicked the TV off and ran up to my room. I didn't turn the light on right away, instead I looked through my window towards Mr. Parkman's den. The light wasn't on in the room, but I could see the door propped slightly open, a beam of light from the hallway spilling into the room. I doubted Mr. Parkman was in the room. He always shut the door behind him.

I flicked the lamp next to my bed on, my room flooding with a dim light. Stretching, I unbuttoned my blouse and threw it in the hamper, then slipped my jeans off and kicked them in the same general direction. I looked in the mirror above my dresser and sighed. Mrs. Parkman and my mom had been fighting over what cup size I was – my mom was certain I was a C whereas Mrs. Parkman had said I had to be a D. Mrs. Parkman had been right, I think. I had bought new panties and bras with money I had gotten for Christmas, when I had been about a 36C. Since then, though, I gained more weight – the new bras I bought went from a good fit to a little snug, and were now at the point where my tits were practically spilling out of them. I just didn't have the money to buy new bras each time I gained weight. I looked at myself in the mirror, making a mental note to try working out a little more over the summer. I could see what Mrs. Parkman had meant – I did like the way I filled out, at least in the tits and ass department. I still didn't like the tummy or the thighs, but I would just have to deal with it.

I undid my bra and sighed as it came off. It was just too tight, and a relief to get off. I rubbed my shoulders, the sides of my tits, underneath my breasts, glad to finally free them from the lacy white garment I had been wearing all day. I sighed, then bent over, hooking my thumbs into the matching white lace panties and slipping them down my legs. They were just as soaked as I had thought, and instead of standing up, I braced one hand against the dresser in front of me and couldn't keep myself from slipping the other between my legs, sliding my fingers along my slit. I moaned softly as I finally touched my pussy, my fingers instantly soaking from my juices. I rubbed my fingers along my slit for just a few moments longer before I forced myself to take my hand away and stand up. I crossed the room, glancing out the window out of habit.

The beam of light that had been illuminating Mr. Parkman's den was gone. I had to fight my impulse to stop at the window and gape out, instead pretending I didn't notice anything at all and slipped onto my bed, turning the lamp out, just out of sight of the window.

My heart was pounding. I tried to convince myself to think logically – someone had probably just turned out the hall light – but something told me that the light was gone because Mr. Parkman was sitting in the room, in his favourite chair, in the dark, so he could see me undress. The thought should have mortified me. I was a fairly shy person, and would never think of doing it on purpose... or would I? I shivered, imagining myself putting on striptease just for Mr. Parkman.

Now, maybe I was just hoping. Maybe I was just wishing that Mr. Parkman had seen me bent over, my hand between my legs. But I believed he was sitting there, and it made my cunt throb just to think of it. I couldn't take it anymore – I plunged a finger into my sopping cunt and immediately started finger-fucking myself hard and fast. I gasped softly and bit my lip to keep from full-out moaning. I worked my clit as best I could with my thumb, my hips straining up to meet my hand. My other hand moved to my large breast. I still wasn't used to the size of my breasts, and I enjoyed exploring it. I rubbed the underside of my left breast, then my right, then cupped as much as I could in my small hands before I began pinching and tweaking my nipples.

It wasn't going to take long for me to cum, not after how long I had been waiting. I pushed up to grind against my hand, fingering myself fast and hard, my back arched to get my fingers as deep as I could inside me. An image of Mr. Parkman filled my mind, the image of him licking my pussy, and I let a soft moan escape my throat before I bit my lip again. I moved my fingers faster, pinched my nipples harder, and before I knew it my pussy was tightening around my fingers as I came hard on my own hand. My body stiffened on the bed, my back arched, tits thrust in the air, hardly able to contain my moans, as my orgasm rocked through my body. I was gasping for breath as I came down, still gently rubbing my pussy with one hand, my other resting on top of my breast. I sighed as my glow slowly faded away, yawning as I started to feel sleepy.

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