The Neighbors

I left my building, walking down to the sidewalk. Turning my head to gaze up and down the street, I decided to turn right. I was right-handed, so turning right was probably predestined. It was a really nice day to be outside, I thought. The prior day I had completed my move into this building.

It was a new city, a thousand miles from where I'd grown up, gotten married and ultimately gotten divorced. I was in a specialized business, so finding a job took a bit more work and a lot broader search. I finally found one, here in this city. In the long conversations I'd had with the existing leadership, I had asked where a nice, chic place to live might be and was told this neighborhood area. So I set out to explore it on that bright, sunny day.

I smiled as I looked at older homes with some magnificent curb appeal. I had done all that already - the home, the perfect yard, the flower beds. I could appreciate these homes and the work that went into their beautification, without wanting or needing to have another one of my own. What I wanted was simplicity; I had chosen simplicity in the wake of the divorce and was determined to continue that lifestyle.

I turned here and there. I found the main business district, three blocks wide and four long, with row upon row of quaint, cute stores. Most catered to women in my opinion, so I slid past them though a few forced me to stop and take a look. Some were more adult in nature, one in particular featured some elegant and very risque lingerie in the window. A woman, especially a curvier one, in the negligee featured in the window, would look ravishing. But I moved along.

I found a nice little coffee shop, and sat at one of the outdoor bistro tables. It was a busy street, with lots of people walking slowly and talking animatedly, weighed down by bags from their shopping adventures. My ex-wife had been a shopper; I detested it. I rarely felt the need to shop for the sake of shopping, and my shopping was generally limited to those things that I needed. But I liked people-watching, and was quite content to spend about an hour in that bistro chair, slowly drinking two cups of coffee, idly watching the world swirl around me. That no one saw me or said hello didn't bother me in the slightest.

I continued down my path, and turned from that main shopping area and landed right in the arts district. I slowed here, enjoying the art products from various local artisans. I was always amazed at how someone could pick up a brush and paint a picture so vividly; I had zero such talents. I got to a little store towards the end, and walked inside. It was a little cooler, and the metalsmithing work displayed inside. A tallish woman emerged from the back and greeted me with a friendly "Hello."

I looked up and smiled. She was slim, wearing one of those ankle-length flowing skirts, and a tank top. Her breasts were ripe though not huge, and I saw a nice swell in her hips. That little evaluation over, I replied in kind and told her that I had just moved to the area, and was looking for a nice little display piece.

It's odd, though. Right? I don't like shopping. But I'd just told her that I was shopping. I guess I was taken by the work in this shop, most of it metal, bent and hammered, some rusted, some polished to a near-mirror sheen. We browsed together, her pointing out some works, and finally I got a wall plate that had this Aztec motif that I thought would look really good.

I wandered home, getting back to my apartment about an hour later, mostly because I got a little turned around and had to walk much further. I got into the apartment and got water and a bite to eat, then busied myself with continuing my setup. The Aztec piece took a rather central spot, and I studied it but in truth, I was completely at a loss whether it made sense or not.

About an hour later, I realized that I had to run out to get some more supplies. So I gathered up my stuff, punched in the closest big-box hardware store into my GPS on my phone, and left. I was facing and locking my door when I heard the door on the opposite side of the hall open. It was more curiosity than anything, and then I got a surprise. I was staring at the tall woman who had sold that Aztec piece to me.

"Oh! Hey!" I said. "I guess...we're neighbors?"

She grinned. "If you live there," she pointed at the now-closed door behind me, "then we are, since I live here!" she said, hooking her thumb over her shoulder. "I'm Teresa," she introduced herself properly.

"Sam," I said easily, and we did the usual handshake. "Off to the hardware store," I told her.

"Just moving in?"

"Yesterday," I confirmed. "First day of work Monday."

"What do you do?"

I told her, and she nodded in that absent way that meant she understood my words, but had no idea what I actually did. That was fine.

"I have a roommate," Teresa told me. "We both work in the arts district, and we share a rented studio, actually over the store where you met me earlier," she explained. "It's not a luxurious lifestyle, but it's to our liking."

I nodded. I did not find the lease rates for this building to be out of control, like some others around this city had been. It was like a little haven of lesser costs, and I had liked the quaint, homey nature of this little area. As an extra bonus, it was only three blocks from a bike route that terminated in the city itself. An old railroad turned into a trail, and from what I'd researched, it was hugely popular with those people who liked to ride their bikes to work. Aside from my first day, I was planning to ride in most of the time.

I related some of my findings while we walked down the steps together. Once outside, we went our separate ways, and I was back and working on the apartment within an hour.

The next day I decided to do a dry run of the commute. I got on my bike, and rode. It took me about thirty minutes to get to my building. There were some security guys in the lobby, so I managed to haul my bike inside and talked to them. They were taciturn and unhelpful, which was not a big surprise. After wrangling my bike back outside, I hopped back on and this time I rode hard. I cut a solid seven minutes off of my ride, but the cost was that I was sweaty and winded by the time I got back to my apartment.

The dry run convinced me that I needed some more gear, so I once more found a local shop, punched in the GPS and ran over. I came back with gear, and set up my bike for the daily commute. I would get the scoop on where and how to park the following day.

I was not expecting a knock on my door, so when I heard the three raps, I sat up sharply from a magazine I was reading. I walked tentatively to the door, and peeked out and saw Teresa there. I half-frowned, half-smiled, wondering what she wanted, but pleased that she'd say hello. I opened the door.

Behind Teresa I spotted a dark-haired woman. "Hi Sam," Teresa said. "I'd like you to meet my roommate, BethAnn," she said, stepping aside.

"Please, call me BA," she said, stepping forward and shaking my hand.

My mouth was a little dry. I had felt a stirring of sexual attraction towards Teresa. She was slim but curvy, pretty in a simple, healthy manner, but this BA was a pin-up girl right from the nose of a World War Two bomber. She was curvy and short and heavily tattooed and radiated this kind of sexuality that was utterly entrancing. I shook and managed a weak smile. "Nice to meet you," I said quietly.

"So you're new to town, right?" BA said.

"Correct, moved in two days ago."

"Never lived here?"

"My first visit was for the big job interview," I confirmed. "Though I only flew in and took an Uber that day."

She nodded. "Good. You hungry? Teresa is a fab cook and we'd like to welcome you to the building, neighborhood and city properly!" she smiled.

"How could I refuse? I don't have anything to bring," I amended quickly.

BA waved it off. "Pshaw, we're hosting. You are dining. Come on," she said, reaching out and taking my hand and literally pulling me towards their shared apartment.

I had never been much of a touchy-feely type and never in a million years would I have simply reached out and grabbed someone's hand and demanded they follow me. Nor am I a particularly docile man in most respects, but I was so utterly disarmed by BA that I rather meekly followed. I think Teresa closed my door behind me.

Once inside, BA released my hand and guided me to their table. I stood and looked around. My walls were a barren wasteland compared to how these two women had set up their place. Even their table settings were done just so. Clearly they had a visual eye for things.

BA sat and chatted me up. Once I got over the initial shock, I found that carrying on a conversation with her was incredibly easy. I soon determined that she hid a very sharp intellect behind her appearance, and Teresa, if anything, was just as smart. And the food! God, the moment Teresa plated it, my mouth burst with saliva. The aromas were just intoxicating, and I had to control myself to keep from wolfing it all down in one massive bite.

They opened a bottle of wine, and then after the supper ended, a second. I insisted on helping them clean the table, and refused to allow them to help me. I smiled, telling them that my now-ended marriage had taught me a few things.

Once I opened the door to my personal life - the divorce - the questions came. More wine was sipped as I spoke, my voice rising at times, betraying the anger I still felt over the way my ex-wife had treated me over the years, and then falling, recalling that I had not been so honorable myself.

"But," I said in a conclusion, "you know, the one thing, the one thing that probably doomed us...we really lacked sexual chemistry."

"Hmmm," BA said. She had a little habit of curling her hand into a fist, holding it vertical, and propping her chin on it while openly staring at me. At first it was uncomfortable, but not so much anymore. She just had the biggest, deepest, most emotional eyes I had ever seen in a woman. "That dooms a lot of relationships."

"I don't want to make it seem like I'm shallow. That sex was the underlying fault for our divorce. But it's unfair to leave it out, because some of our most intense arguments were over sex."

"In what manner?" Teresa managed to edge the question in before BA could.

"You name it. The...volume, how many times. What we did. Foreplay, no foreplay. Toys." I sighed. "Either I never turned her on, or she was a unadmitted asexual woman."

"Sounds awful." This was BA.

"Well, it wasn't fun," I admitted. I shrugged. "It's in the past now, I guess. I'll find a way to move forward."

"Right!" Teresa said brightly, which BA quickly echoed. I was encouraged to put myself out there.

"Are you two...in relationships?"

Both grinned. "Sort of yes, sort of no," BA said. "We're, um, special."

"Special?" I asked, flummoxed by that sort of word choice.

The two women traded a look. BA leaned forward. "We're both pre-op trans women," she said.

"You're...what? What?" I stammered.

BA's eyes darkened. "Pre-op trans."

"Pre-op...trans. Wait. You were both born...male?" I managed.

"Yes," Teresa said. Her tone was cool, matching her expression, which matched BA's.

I sat back. "I never would have guessed."

While that did not melt hearts, I felt the temperature in the room rise slightly. "You're not supposed to," BA said. "We are, for all intents and purposes, women. Except for our body parts," she added.

"Pre-op, so you still have...them?" I shook my head suddenly, putting both palms on the top of the table. "Wait, wait, wait," I said. I closed my eyes and took a moment. When I opened my eyes, I saw the return of the cool gazes. "Can I speak frankly?"

BA nodded after a moment.

"I've never met a trans person before, pre or post op. I'm sure that I'm going to say something hurtful to you, probably, but I promise that's not my intention. You kind of surprised me."

BA adopted a thoughtful gaze. "That's fair. What do you want to know?"

"You still have a penis?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to get rid of it?"

Teresa leaned forward. "I'm not going to get rid of mine. I like how I look, and even though I have a penis, I don't feel ever like a man. Ever."

BA nodded. "I like mine, too," she said.

Teresa scoffed a little. "Yeah, you do," she laughed.

"Shush." I looked back and forth between them, and a light bulb went off in my head.

"You're also lovers?"

"Of course," BA said smoothly. "That's one of the benefits of living together. Plus, well, while this is a more liberal town, we're in a conservative state. Its not like we can flaut ourselves, except at great personal risk."

"I'm confused why you told me, then," I replied, knowing that my face was twisted into a mask of disbelief.

"I got the sense that you're more open-minded than most men," BA said. "Besides, we both think you're cute!"

Now, nearly all of my life, a woman complimenting me led swiftly to a heated blush to my cheeks. This was no exception. I don't know why. "Thank you," I said, grinning, as much as seeing their delighted faces at my condition.

"Awww, a blush." BA swiped her hair from her face. "What else do you want to know?"

"Do you...have sex...only with each other, or...."

BA grinned. "I like both men and women," she said. "I'm totally bisexual, I don't care, so long as it feels good and my partner is enthusiastic."

"I'm a little more reserved," Teresa chimed in. "I tend to prefer men, actually, though I do not turn down women if one happens across my path."

I sat back, chuffing. My head turned to face both of them. Then, I leaned forward. "Do you want to know a secret of mine?"

"Oooh trading secrets!" BA said, leaning forward immediately with her arms crossed in front of her, and her breasts rested atop her arms pushing them up. It was hard not to notice her breasts now, though I had to assume that they were faked. "Yes!" she said.

"In college," I said, feeling my face blush, "well, I had a roommate and we got horny one night. I gave him a blowjob," I said in a rushed whisper.

"What happened?"

I chuckled. "Well, we kind of got addicted to them, from each other. We never did anything else, though," I said.

"Your wife?"

"Oh I never told her, hell no," I said. "You two are the first humans on this planet who know besides me and that old roommate."

"Where's he at?"

"No idea. We had a bad falling out - not over the sex - but over money."

Teresa nodded. "So the idea of two trans women sporting cocks who live across the hall from you...does not bother you. Does it?"

I grinned and sat back. Even though my heart kept racing in my chest and my mouth was dry and I continually asked myself silently whether I knew what the fuck I was doing, I told them the truth as best as I could figure it. "It does not. It's kind of exciting, now that I think about it."

"And you've never taken it in the ass?" BA asked.

I grinned, a little taken aback by her very direct, coarse question. "No. Well, maybe some play, I tried a plug a few times."

"Ooooh so you're a kinky one!" BA laughed. "And you've moved in next to us! We might lure you into our den of sin and never let you leave!" she grinned.

"Well, except to go to work," I chuckled.

My phone dinged suddenly.

"What was that?" BA asked.

I fished it out, since it kept dinging. "Well, its my...bedtime alarm," I said. I knew that a sheepish expression was back on my face. "I tend to get pretty involved with things at night, and I've forgotten to go to bed until like three in the morning, then I'm worth shit the next day. Given that tomorrow is my first day...even though I would love to continue this conversation...I think I must excuse myself and go to bed."

The looks of disappointment on both faces was noteworthy. "I understand," Teresa said softly.

"I do, too. I don't like it," BA added with a bit of a leer. "But I understand. I guess," she grumped.

So after some hugs and promises to keep in touch, I escaped their apartment. I went right to bed, taking two sleeping tabs. I knew that my brain would not let me sleep without the chemical aid...already visions of two gorgeous women with gorgeous cocks ran through my mind and truth be told...my appetite for them both was already seriously whetted. But the pills did their thing, and the next thing I knew, I was rising to the alarm in the morning.

My ex-wife used to hate how single-minded I could be. In the morning, after giving a very brief thought to my neighbors, they were pushed out of my mind as I geared up for my first day of work. I dressed sharply, and was out the door at exactly the moment I had planned, and drove into the city and parked at the lot I had also mapped out. Once inside, I went through the whirlwind of my first day, getting my office, my email, setting up my phone, meeting the directors to whom I would directly report, meeting the staff who would report to me, doing a mountain of paperwork, and getting my planned bike commute stuff all worked out. I left the office around five, dazed and tired, and drove slowly home through painful traffic before I got to my little haven.

I parked and walked into my building, getting to my apartment. I paused, looking at the closed door of my neighbors, but had little interest in carrying on a furthering of our conversation. I let myself into the apartment, did a rigorous bodyweight workout, checked a few personal things on my personal computer, and then went to bed. Boring, I know.

The rest of the week went fast. I was instantly addicted to the bike ride into and home from work - especially the ride home. It was so much better than sitting in a car, fuming because of the volume of vehicles on the road. I rode easily and found that it was just enough exercise to give me a taste of that post-workout high that I had come to enjoy. I did not skip my bodyweight work, though. I got some more food and putzed around my apartment each evening.

Now, Friday afternoon ended up being a bit of a shitshow. A big cold front was bearing down on the region, and though I tried to escape the office early, I was not early enough. I had enough foresight to include some water proof riding materials, but I was not on the bike for five minutes before the clouds opened up and began dumping a huge amount of cold rain on the region. I struggled to ride, realizing that I did not have clear glasses to cover my eyes. Within moments I was chilled to the bone, but having no other recourse except to plow ahead, I did so as best as I could.

I got back to the apartment, a shivering, drenched mess. So of course just as I was letting myself into my apartment, the door opposite opened and BA walked out. She saw me and made a big fuss over me, my bike, and my general condition. Teresa poked out as well, and she too added to the fuss. All of which led to me sitting in their apartment about an hour later, warm, dry, showered and this time bringing over two bottles of wine with me. We opened them and talked, not exactly picking up where we left off, but there was a strong sexual tension that existed in the apartment, almost right from the moment I got into the place.

"Do you smoke?" BA asked me suddenly. She lifted her hand, showing me a tightly rolled joint.

"Not in a while," I admitted.

"Does your work care?"

"Mine? Hell no," I said.

"Wanna get high?"

"Sure," I agreed.

The joint was passed around. I had literally no tolerance for the stuff, so within seconds after my first big toke on the joint, I felt my head buzzing pleasantly. It was a good varietal, a gorgeous heady aroma to the smoke, and the high was remarkable. I just felt so all-over good all of a sudden. It was so easy to smile at the two pretty women who happened to sport cocks.

There was a second round passed around. I took only one hit on this one, as I was already high as a kite.