So Hard to Shop For

Author's note: This is just a fun little fantasy I wrote down over the course of a couple of days. Hopefully it's enjoyable.

*

My wife Melissa and I have always been like the "Neighborhood Parents," if you will. We've lived on the same block in our little suburb in Northern Los Angeles for 12 years, where we purchased our first home with savings and the proceeds from her parent's house after they passed. I wasn't sure what our relationship to the neighbors would be when we moved in—our previous neighborhood had been a lot more working class, whereas this area was in a gated community with the average car being a Mercedes, but the house was perfect for us, and it cut my wife's commute down from over an hour each way to about 15 minutes, so the decision was easy. The kids were somewhat sad to leave their school district and friends, but the new schools were top notch, and they quickly made new friends, with our house frequently becoming the after school spot.

While we're probably one of the "poorer" and less ostentatious couples on the block, we were happy to make the frequent trips to Costco and stock our fridge to the brim as we had both come from large families, and it seemed only normal to have our three kids "supplemented" by their friends coming over to play video games, hang out, and stay for dinner.

One of the kids who was a regular feature from the early going was Eric, who I wasn't particularly fond of when he first came around. He seemed like a typical little skater punk, with his lip ring and died hair, and I correctly sniffed him out as being primarily interested in trying to sleep with our middle daughter Candace. However, after she failed to show any interest whatsoever (she was pretty, thin, and a popular girl with no shortage of boys vying for her attention), he became friends with our oldest Annabelle, which greatly relieved me.

Whereas Candace took after the women on my side, Annabelle was built like her mother, a "thicker" girl who had been playing forward on the basketball team and field hockey since she was 10. She was a little curvy, which Eric no doubt saw as bigger than he was attracted to, and while Candace was no wilting violet, Annabelle was assertive, loud, and even pushy. I took secret glee in watching her give him shit, and their bond became a brother-sister type relationship which cracked me up, and gave me the chance to get to know a young man who I would later learn was actually very bright, but troubled.

Eric began to open up to me, and I found out that his parents were divorced, his dad somewhat engaged but only from a distance, with a new wife and three daughters from the new model, a bit of a drinking problem, plus he lived in Connecticut. Mom was a hairdresser, and they lived at one of the few apartment complexes that took state assistance in Newbury Park. Most of his classmates were the sons and daughters of professionals and corporate types whose parents bought them cars when they got their license, while Eric had a skateboard and his mom drove an ancient Jetta.

Having grown up in meager conditions myself, I tried to take it on myself to mentor the kid a bit. When he confessed to me that he had a problem with abusing painkillers, was also selling them to support his habit, and had tried street drugs, I got him some help—I had quit drinking when Candace was 2 and my wife had found out she was pregnant with our son John. I shared my experiences with him and told him that even though I hadn't gotten in a lot of trouble or made things too horrible at home, my life had already started to derail a bit, and I knew that it wouldn't get back on track until I did something about this problem, but that there was a better life on the other side of all of this. I helped him get into a treatment program to kick, and then took him to some meetings with me, and I even introduced him to a young man I sponsored in AA named Rob.

Despite an age difference of nearly a decade, they hit it off immediately and Rob became his sponsor. And so Eric slowly became one of the kids as well, at our house almost as much as his own. I watched him grow up, graduate High School, do an Associate's degree at the Community College, and eventually he moved back to Connecticut to be nearer his kid sisters and try to see if he could help out his dad.

Over the next two years, I'd hear from him intermittently, usually a phone call every few months. He seemed to be doing okay, but occasionally seemed sad. The job he had moved there to take had gone belly up, and he was just getting by working a subsistence gig at a shop that sold e-cigarettes and other related "supplies" (read: head shop). He lamented that he felt a bit isolated in a smaller community and hadn't made a lot of friends, and his studies and education didn't seem to get him in the door anywhere—his degree was in overall health, though he wanted to eventually get a master's in addiction studies.

The only thing he said was going great was his relationship, as he had rekindled a flame with a woman he had briefly dated as a freshman in high school before she moved back to the East Coast to live with her dad. Fate or whatever had put them in towns that were less than 30 minutes apart, and she had found him on facebook. He'd talk about her almost constantly, saying "Kaitlyn this, Kaitlyn that, Kaitlyn and I...", and I'd grin in amusement.

When Annabelle was 22, she got engaged, to a good guy I really liked. Eric came out for the wedding, and when we took photos, we had him in with the rest of the kids, which were most of the wedding party. I finally got the chance to meet Kaitlyn at the reception, and I was both a bit surprised by her appearance and a bit confused about what to make of her.

When he introduced me to her, she was quiet, reserved, and spoke very softly. She was ashy blonde, with shoulder length hair and one of the most striking faces I've seen in a long time, high cheekbones, gigantic green eyes, and an almost feline quality to her face. I knew from Eric that her mother was Czech, and had I been asked to describe her appearance in one word, I would have said "captivating." She was wearing a rather puffy and loose dress, so I couldn't make out her physique, but I could tell she was rather tall, as I'm 6' even, and she was only a couple inches shorter than me in flats.

I had always known Eric to date short, hardbody girls with obnoxious personalities, which I attributed to a somewhat shallow streak in him based on his age and maturity level. Perhaps, I thought, our little boy is finally growing up a bit. But, to be honest, I had little time to talk to her or even give her much thought other than a stolen glance or two as I bustled around the wedding, making sure everything went off well for my daughter.

Later that night, Melissa and I were lying in bed, preparing to bed down, when she looked up from her tablet and asked me, "So, what did you think of Kaitlyn?"

"I don't know. Not much to base any opinion on, really. She seems nice enough. Quiet."

"She's a little shy. It takes her a minute to open up."

"I didn't get a chance to talk to her much, honestly."

"I did. We had a couple glasses of wine at the reception. She's very sweet. Smart as a whip, too."

"Huh, interesting."

"Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Because usually Eric dates bimbos. He likes them dumber than him and hardbodied. I just assumed maybe she was just uncomfortable around all the new people."

"Probably. But she's not a bimbo. She's a graphic designer and webmaster."

"No shit? If she lived here I'd get her a gig, I could use her." My company ran software and platforms for a large number of colleges, and I always needed talented people.

"I don't know if I could handle that. I'm used to your colleagues having bald spots and being paunchy. Not sure I want a young 20-something with that body traipsing around the office, getting you hard all the time." She started tracing my cock lightly through my shorts, and I started to react almost immediately. She loved to tease me like this, and I was only too happy to be on the receiving end.

"You're worried about that?" I asked jokingly, as she slowly pulled my shorts back to reach in and stroke my stiffening member.

"Well, she'd bend over, and with that ass, you'd get hard in no time." What ass, I wondered? How did I miss this girl's ass? Was it that good? "And then she'd turn back around, and see you hard, and then she'd have to immediately drop to her knees and start sucking your big fat cock," she continued as she took my cock in her mouth. She swallowed 2/3 of my length in one go, and began to suck me with vigor.

"And then what?" I asked, enjoying this.

"And then once she'd had it in her mouth," she continued, wiggling out of her sleep pants, "She'd have to sit on it," she said, slowly moving up, centering herself over my protruding spear, and lowering herself onto it with a grunt and exhale. "It's too good to let go unfucked." She began moving on it slowly, adjusting to my intrusion, steadily picking up speed. I waited until I knew she was comfortable before pushing up, and within a few thrusts, I felt her first climax. We fell into our comfortable rhythm, moving together, building up speed until we were at our full and almost violent usual pace.

I love my wife, find her incredibly beautiful even despite (perhaps partially because of) the years, a few wrinkles, and her being a bit north of where her weight was before the kids. At 47, she still turns heads, with a gorgeous face reminiscent of a 60's bombshell, curvy hips, and an ass that is something to behold. I'm a lucky man, but I have to say that in bed, she's a fucking demon. She puts ladies in adult films to shame, which is just one reason I've never been tempted to cheat. We've broken at least three beds over the years, and to top it off, I can make her cum again and again and again when we're together. Tonight was no exception. As usual, we lost count.

After a few minutes of her riding me, I flipped her over, and took a couple minutes to lick eagerly at her sensitive clit and finger her, then entered her again as she pulled at my shoulders. I entered her missionary, and we fucked at each other hard and playfully, her kissing me with passion as I took turns teasing her nipples. Finally, as she clamped down hard with a very intense cum, I tipped over the edge and filled her up. We stayed joined together for a few, kissing and playing as I slowly softened. As usual, she whimpered when I slipped out, and then said "I think you liked that little fantasy."

"She's cute, but I'm really glad I'm here with you right now."

"Good PC answer, hubby. But I did it for a reason. I know she's your type."

"I love you."

"I love you too," she replied, reaching out and kissing me with renewed passion.

The next year went on pretty uneventfully. Candace had started college the year before and was living in Pennsylvania, working there too, so she only came home for a couple weeks at a time as she tried to juggle school, work, and a part-time internship she managed to score. John was about to enter his senior year, and was planning on enlisting after school to help pay for his college—he didn't want to be reliant on us, even though he knew he could count on us helping pay for his education. So when I got a call from Eric, I was happy, as my house was slowly starting to feel empty.

"What's up?" I inquired.

"Guess who just got a job in Malibu?"

"You're kidding?!" Only 20 minutes away.

"Nope. One of Rob's buddies recommended me, I did the interview, and they just offered."

"What'll you be doing?"

"Back to working in a treatment center. Behavioral Health Technician for the Malibu Recovery Hospital."

"Wow. Are you excited to come back?"

"So excited. I move in three weeks. I just put in my notice at my job and with my landlord."

"How's Kaitlyn feel about it?"

"I just talked to her last night. She's totally on board. She's wanted to leave there for a while now."

"What's she going to do?"

"I don't know. But there's not a lot of opportunity for her here. She's been waiting tables since she can't get full time work without driving over an hour each way."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. So she's actually out in the Czech Republic right now visiting her Grandma, and she'll be back in two months. So I'm going to pack everything up, drive a U-haul out there, and she's changed her flight to LA so I can come get her."

"Holy shit, dude. Sounds like life is really getting good for you."

"Yeah, I'm so happy. I can't wait to get out of here."

"Do you need a place to stay until you find a place?"

"No. That's one of the best parts! In addition to paying me, they're giving me a place to live. It's like a poolhouse behind one of their halfway house properties, but I'm getting to live there rent free! And Kaitlyn can live there too."

Ah, to be young and okay with smaller spaces again. I laughed and shook my head. We chatted for a few more minutes, and I made him promise to tell me when he got back in town. One of my kids was coming back, I was excited! Melissa was also ecstatic, and started immediately putting together a list of things she was going to contribute to their household.

When Eric came back, though, he still seemed bothered. He was a little more distant than before, and played it off as just the weight of his new job and missing Kaitlyn. However, something seemed amiss. He bailed a couple of times on plans at the last minute. He seemed troubled, and even Rob told me at one point that he seemed like he was holding something back. In two months of him being back in LA, I saw him maybe three times, and he lived close.

One day, I took a trip up to San Francisco for work, and was in an older building with absolutely shitty cell service most of the day. Around 2 pm, I stepped out of a marathon meeting session to search out some food, and when I stepped into the hallway, my phone blew up. Voicemail from Eric. Voicemail from my wife. Text messages from my wife. As they scrolled by, I clicked on one of the texts from Melissa. "Baby, call Eric, and call me. It's urgent." I left the voicemails unopened and called her immediately. She didn't even say hi, and her tone was the familiar "crisis handling" tone I knew so well.

"So, Eric fucked up."

"Yeah."

"He got fired."

"Why?"

"I didn't ask. But there's usually only a couple reasons you get fired from these places." She had been a nurse for years before taking her current gig at a university, so she knew the world well. "One is fraud, and the other is sleeping with a patient. He really doesn't strike me as the fraud type."

I exhaled. Why was he so stupid? "Yeah, you're probably right about that."

"Yeah. I told him to pack up and get over here. He can sleep in Annabelle's old room until he gets back on his feet. I hope that's okay, I probably should have asked you first."

"No, it's fine, I really don't mind. He's one of the kids."

"He is. Even when he's stupid."

We chatted for a couple more moments, and I got off to phone Eric. Sure enough, he was freaking out. I reiterated Melissa's offer, and talked him off the ledge. Sure enough, he had slept with a patient, and the place had the goods on him. He could leave now and not put up a fight, and they'd pay him the rest of his hours and not call the cops. I told him to pack it all up, and that I'd see him when I got off my flight that night.

The next few weeks were okay, if a bit tense. He was understandably depressed about fucking everything in his life up, but I tried to help keep him occupied. He and Kaitlyn had a spat when he told her the truth, broke up, and then she decided to stick it out. Since he was still living at our place, she came too. I came back from a trip the day she arrived as well, and was greeted with a hug from her, still obviously very tired and jet lagged. Despite her obvious physical and emotional toll, I couldn't help but notice that she still looked gorgeous, her face nearly perfect and her eyes, while red, still large and luminous. As she turned around, I noticed that her butt, clad in leggings, looked absolutely perfect, round and protruding just enough, and my thoughts momentarily went blank. That's what Melissa was talking about, I thought. How could he cheat on that?

The next couple months were a little odd, but good. Kaitlyn was shy but eventually opened up to me a bit more. I discovered she was a big goofball, sarcastic, and had a great sense of humor. One day, she turned on a rerun block of Law & Order in the living room, and I noticed her dancing to the theme song, which made me have to stifle a giggle. I made myself a sandwich, and as I sat down on the couch to watch with her, she said "I love this show. I always wanted to be an extra on it."

"I could see that. You'd be the bartender in New York that remembers every single face when questioned by the detectives."

"Yeah," she started. "I remember him. Nice guy, quiet. Had on a blue shirt, black tie, leather jacket. Ordered two martinis with three olives each. Girl came in and joined him, they argued for a bit, and then left together around 12:22 heading west."

"Exactly! I always wanted to be the guy who can't stop unloading boxes out of the truck for two minutes to talk to the detectives about a murder," I countered, miming the act. "Yeah, I was out here stacking boxes around 7:19 am, and this car peels around the corner. Late model Ford sedan, really hauling ass. Guy threw a package out the window. I look inside while I'm still stacking boxes with one hand, and it's a bloody knife."

"Yes!" she giggled. I liked her laugh, it was musical and genuine. We sat together, eating and watching two episodes, riffing periodically, before I decided to return to my home office and work some more.

After that day, she became one of my kids, too, although I'll admit that while I tried not to ogle her, I frequently failed. She simply had a perfect body, at least according to my tastes. She was tall, curvy, yet proportional, with smaller breasts and hips, legs, and ass that simply wouldn't quit. It didn't help that she was seriously sweet, bright, and engaging, along with a tad bit flirty and tactile, always loving to come up and hug on me, kiss my cheek, or touch me in small ways, which was almost a touch torturous.

Kaitlyn always endeavored to help out around the house, which was yet another reason I loved having her there. She quickly got a job bartending, and Eric a gig at another treatment facility—I was amazed he wasn't radioactive after the last one, but whatever. In a couple months they moved out, and our house was once again down to one kid.

Every so often, we saw them, but not a ton. They seemed to be doing alright, and then one night I got a message from Kaitlyn. "Eric and I are done. He was on Tinder. I hope we can still be friends." I quickly typed back that I was sorry, and of course we wanted to keep her in our life. Shortly thereafter, they split, she kept the apartment, and he moved in with some buddies. Weirdly enough, I saw him less and less, and her more, as Melissa kept bringing her over for dinner or whatever thing.

Melissa told me in confidence that she really didn't want Eric in our house, and if I was to stay friends with him, she didn't want to be part of the picture. Eric began blaming Kaitlyn for the split, and I started to lose respect for him. After a couple months, he moved to Texas to take a different job, and I almost never heard from him, despite attempts to see how he was doing, and I felt conflicted, as he just didn't seem to care anymore. On the other hand, Kaitlyn became a bigger part of our life, and I tried not to feel bad about becoming closer with her.

One night, while we were packing up a few items she had left behind to bring over to her, Melissa shocked me by throwing out a "Hey, if you want a hall pass for Kaitlyn, I'll totally give it to you."