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  • Girl Next Door Ch. 01

Girl Next Door Ch. 01

12

I saw her red hair first, a flash of color against the green and gray of the yard and driveway next door. From my bedroom window, I looked down.

A green tank top tugged at a set of small, pert breasts. White shorts swished over long, slender legs and the tight curve of her rump. And that hair, that flaming splash of red in the morning sun...

An ache spread through my chest. Butterflies fluttered, twisting my stomach.

I was just out of high school, college an incoming blur of a dream now looming before me as reality, only summer standing as a buffer between me and it, and I fell in love at first sight.

When I made my way downstairs, my parents were peeking out the blinds like a couple of voyeurs. Through the slit their fingers made, I could see the bold blue lettering of the moving van next door.

"Look at that sofa! God, that's nice. At least they have good taste," my mom commented with knowing approval.

"Spying on them already?" I said. I grabbed the box of cereal that one of them had left on the counter and shook it. It sounded full, so I started looking around for a bowl.

My parents turned to acknowledge me, but Mom went right back to window after sending an exaggerating roll of the eyes my way. Her hair was pulled back, and I noticed a streak of gray that I couldn't remember seeing before. They were getting old. In turn, I felt old. College, real life, gray hair, that was what awaited me in the adult world.

That could be me one day, my entertainment relegated to sneaking glances at the neighbors moving in next door. It was depressing shit.

Dad seemed embarrassed to have been caught spying. He stalked away from the window and took a seat at the kitchen table. He was unshaven, and his hair was a messy mop of brown at the top of his head.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

I shrugged. Having found a clean bowl in the cabinet, I poured a bit of cereal and milk into it. I took the seat across from Dad. I tried not to think about the girl, but her image was embedded in my brain. I wondered what might be in the box she had been carrying. Decorations for her room? Stuffed animals? Things of a more personal nature?

"Spoon?" Dad offered, and I accepted. Distracted, I had forgotten to get one for myself.

After munching a milky bite and swallowing, I said, "Going to go meet them?"

Dad nodded in reply. Mom couldn't tear her eyes away from the window long enough to respond.

Dad said, "After a shower. Don't want to give them the wrong first impression we're a bunch of unhygienic scurve-balls."

I raised my eyebrows. "Who says that's the wrong first impression?"

He chuckled in reply and shook his head. But he was right. We needed to shower. I planned on looking my best when I met the girl next door. Just thinking about her, I felt an awkward tightness in my chest.

This was not my first crush, but I had never felt like this. Especially not with a girl I had never even met.

After my shower, I took a moment to check myself out in the mirror. My wet hair lay plastered on my forehead; my cool blue eyes stared beneath it. I thought my eyes were my best feature; someone had once told me that they were piercing. I really took that to heart. If there was any part of me to physically win over the girl next door, I figured it would be my eyes.

I moved my eyes down. My abs looked fine. I ran track, so no problems there. Biceps were also decent. If she liked muscles, I was in pretty good shape both literally and figuratively. I didn't want to be arrogant, but I knew that a lot of girls at school thought I was cute. By no means was I a perfect physical specimen, but I was far from a dog.

When I met her, the girl with the red hair, the biggest thing was to just not be an asshole.

This had been a problem for me in the past, at least according to my ex-girlfriends. The biggest problem I had with my girlfriends was the fact I often became interested in other girls. I had no excuse. My excuse was that I was a man and in high school and desirable. This, apparently, made me an asshole.

"Don't be an asshole," I told my reflection. In return, my mirror-image doppelganger winked back at me.

They were still moving boxes when I went outside with my parents to greet them. I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I hadn't felt a rush like that probably since my first track meet. I didn't know if it was nerves or just anxious excitement. Either way, I felt a little bit shaky.

I walked towards her, held out my hands, and said, "Do you want some help?"

A pair of hazel eyes blinked over the top of a cardboard box, and I heard her reply, "Uh, I... uh, sure, yeah."

The box was thrust in my direction, and I took it. Now that it was out of her hands, I could see her clearly. She was even more beautiful that I had thought when I'd first seen her from my second story window. Her complexion was fair, and a light smatter of freckles dotted her nose. Her eyes were bright and intelligent. Her lips were full. I wanted to kiss her then and there.

I must have been staring because she smiled and motioned behind me, "The house is that way, Helper-boy." Her smile lit up her face, and her teeth were a line of straight pearls. She headed away, and I followed, careful not to allow my eyes to rest on the firm, round bottom restrained by her white shorts.

"I'm Matt. From next door," I said. She turned, her lips curled in an amused smile.

"Maddy." She made her way up the porch steps and opened the front door for me. I thought that I could tell by the way she looked at me that she didn't hate what she was seeing, was maybe even pleasantly surprised.

I set down the box. Then we made our way outside and started all over again. This became the routine for the next hour or so, and by the time we were done, I was lathered with a sheen of sweat and so was Maddy. Curls of her red dark stuck to the nape of her neck. Our parents had retired to the parlor, or what the Maddy's parents called a "parlor," anyway. Honestly, I didn't know what a parlor was, but that's where we found them seated on a set of matching couches.

"I'm sure Matthew would be more than willing to help you get that pool cleaned out," my Mom was offering on my behalf as Maddy and I approached. Usually, I hated when she volunteered my services, but this time, I didn't mind so much. I'd accept any excuse to give me more time to get to know Maddy.

"That would be wonderful," Maddy's mother replied. She was a good-looking woman in jeans and a white t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, but it was obvious that Maddy's red hair was inherited from her mother. However, her mom's hair was not as rich, a bit browner than red, more of an amber.

"Would you mind, Matt?" this came from Dad, looking out for me as always. Dad knew I hated when Mom assumed I'd be more than happy to do whatever they told me. Dad had run a comb through his hair, but next to Maddy's dad, he still looked relatively homeless in his wrinkled red polo shirt and khakis.

Maddy's dad was movie-star handsome. He had dark brown hair and a square jaw. He filled his shirt with muscles. I couldn't help but notice Mom's lingering, admiring glances towards him. She'd hidden her gray streak under an Atlanta Braves ball cap. She kept twirling her finger through the curls around her ear like the girls did at school. I felt bad for Dad.

"No, sure. I mean, that'd be fine," I stuttered my way through a response. The adults went back to small talk, and after a moment, Maddy nudged me in the ribs with a bony elbow. I turned towards her, and she motioned out of the room with her chin. I nodded and followed her into a spacious kitchen area.

She perched on a tall stool, and I took the one next to her. I couldn't help noticing how lean her legs were, and I wondered if she played any sports. I wouldn't mind seeing her in a tennis skirt.

"Madeline Tasker," she said and held out her hand. "We exchanged first names, but I think it's time for a formal introduction." I took the hand, and we shook.

"Matthew Holt," I said with a chuckle. It felt very silly to be shaking hands like a bunch of old English gentleman. Maddy must have seen the humor, too, because she couldn't contain a snicker. I had a vague feeling that she was making fun of me, but I let it go.

Maddy hopped off the stool and opened a box. She pulled out two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"What are you doing?"

"We're going to have a toast," she said. "A welcome home toast."

I didn't protest despite the fact that my parents would have killed me if they walked into the kitchen and saw us drinking whiskey. They were no fans of underage drinking, no matter how responsible or who the chaperones might be. It would probably destroy any chance I had of having their approval for pursuing Maddy. They were old-fashioned that way, I suppose, but they were good parents. I mean, at least they cared enough to give a shit.

Maddy poured us two shots and handed me one. She held hers up, and so did I. Sunlight glinted off the rim of my glass.

"Matthew," she said. "I have the feeling that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

The next day, they had me cleaning out the pool.

If you've ever done pool work, you know it's not an easy job. Not when a pool has been neglected for several months and allowed to fill with debris and algae and all manner of wildlife, both alive and dead. I spent most of the morning with a net, pulling dripping pile after pile of dead wet leaves from the bottom and dumping them into black trash bags.

"Hey, there." I heard her before I saw her, and I turned towards the voice. I wiped my brow with the back of my wrist, smearing sweat across both. She approached, smiling and looking achingly sexy in a flowery top held up by spaghetti-stings across her shoulders and a pair of tiny, ass-hugging green shorts. She had a glass of water in one hand, and she held it towards me.

"Thought you might like this," she said.

"Thanks."

The water was cold and delicious, and I had a long swallow. I drained it before I could stop myself. I handed the empty glass back to Maddy. Condensation dripped, and my hand felt wet.

"Mom thinks you're cute," Maddy said with an impish grin. I smiled back, unable to help myself. If I had her mom's approval, I was as good as gold. Good girls always wanted their parents' approval, and Maddy looked like your generic good girl, if hotter than most. Of course, a good girl might not be wearing such tight, tiny shorts. I took a moment to appraise them.

"Hard work?" Maddy asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, but it should get easier when I get these leaves and stuff out."

"You can say "shit" in front of me. I'm not a goody-goody," she replied.

"What?"

"You said, 'leaves and stuff.' I can tell you wanted to say, 'leaves and shit.' You can say, 'shit.' It's not going to offend me."

"Oh, ok. So it'll get easier when I get these leaves and shit out."

"You can also say, 'ass, fuck, cunt,' whatever. You're not going to shock me," she said and looked at me as if to gauge a reaction. I was a little shocked, but I didn't show it. I didn't expect her to talk to me- a guy she barely knew- like that. I was interested in seeing where she was going with this.

"If anything," she continued, "I'm going to shock the... fuck... outta you!" She laughed and wheeled away on her heels before I could respond.

"Where are you going?"

"Out! Gotta get my shop on. Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it," Maddy said and threw me a wink. Then she disappeared inside the house. I stood there, watching the door for awhile, thinking about her. Already, she had me intrigued.

With a sigh, I turned back to the pool and splashed in the net.

Once I had most of the leaves and shit out, I sealed the bags I had filled and lugged them to the side of the house. My arms and back felt sore. It had been more work than I expected. I rubbed some feeling back into my neck and knocked on the glass door at the back of the house with my free hand.

Mrs. Tasker, Maddy's mom, slid the door open with a beaming smile.

"Oh, thank you, Matthew. You're such a help," she said. She wore a tank top that clung to her ample breasts and a pair of running shorts that ended high on her tanned thighs, and I had to force my eyes to stay on her face as she led me inside the house. In the kitchen, she turned towards me.

"How can we ever repay you?"

"Don't sweat it," I replied. "I'll be back tomorrow to dump in some chemicals and see if we can start clearing it up."

"How much do you need for them?" she asked. I told her, and she wrote a check, leaning over the kitchen counter, giving me a clear view of anything and everything I might like to see down her shirt. And trust me, there was plenty to see.

I wanted to feel like a creep, ogling Maddy's mom that way I was, but I was also a hormonal eighteen-year-old, fresh out of high school. I couldn't help myself.

Finally, she stood up and gave me the check.

"I sure wish there was something I could do to thank you," she said, and I thought I heard a sly implication in her words. What that implication was, it was hard to tell through the haze of vivid fantasies that immediately came to mind. I suddenly realized that Mr. Tasker and Maddy were both gone, and I was alone with this woman.

I saw an image of her breasts in my face and her riding me hard on the couch, her ass clenching, my mouth latched onto a round, pink nipple. I felt my cock hardening, and I desperately tried to turn my thoughts off. If I got a boner in front of Maddy's mother, I'd have to kill myself from the shame.

"No problem," I said, feeling tightness in my chest and another kind of tightness in my shorts. "Anytime."

Somehow, I made it out of there without embarrassing myself.

That night, the ring tone on my cell phone woke me up. I groaned, rubbed my eyes, and checked the time on the flashing light of my phone as it chirped a classic rock tune I had downloaded. It was after midnight, and the number was Maddy's. We had exchanged cell numbers the day before.

I flipped open the phone and mumbled a pathetic version of hello.

"My mom says she's going to fuck you," Maddy said.

It's hard to describe my reaction. I don't want to write it like a cliché. You know, the heart stopping, time stopping, that kind of thing. But if there is one thing I know happened, it's that my breath caught in my throat. My mind raced, but I told myself to play it cool. I tried to get my thoughts in order, to rationalize the situation. She was joking with me, pulling my leg. If there was one thing about Maddy I had learned, it was that she seemed to enjoy messing with me.

Only seconds had passed, but they had seemed painfully long before I responded. I decided to not even humor her with a response to her statement. Instead, I changed the subject.

"Maddy, why are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

"Because I thought you'd like to know that tomorrow when you're done playing with the pool, my mother wants to play in your pants," she said, a giggle punctuating her sentence.

"What are you talking about?"

"Dude, I don't know how to make it much clearer for you. Let's try this. My mommy, yeah, she wants you to take your hard penis and slide it into her vagina. And then she wants you to move it in and out until you explode. Does that make it more, like, understandable?"

"Maddy, I mean... why are you telling me this?" I said. Despite the hour, despite the absurdness of what she was saying, my cock had responded, and my mind had filled with the thought of her mom, tanned and curvaceous Mrs. Tasker, taking me inside of her. I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, my heart thundering and my cock rock-hard.

"I told you that I was going to shock the fuck out of you, and I totally am. Tomorrow, babe, it's just the beginning," Maddy said and hung up. Her voice seemed to echo in my mind and in the throb of my pulse in my ears, my chest, my cock.

I told myself it was just a joke. She was fucking with my head.

But it was a long time before I managed to fall back asleep.

The next day, as I dumped in a variety of chemicals meant to clear up the pool and vacuumed the bottom of it through the dark swirl of contaminated water, I had a hard time not thinking about what Maddy had told me. I hadn't seen her all day. Her mom said she'd gone to pick some things up. Speaking of which, when she had let me in that morning, I had taken an extra moment to observe Mrs. Tasker. She didn't act strange or different. She didn't come on to me like some horny Mrs. Robinson. In fact, I couldn't pick up any signals that what Maddy had said was true.

So it was with something verging on disappointment that I went about my work. The sun baked me good, and I feel burned and crispy by the time I finished vacuuming and putting all the equipment away. I was hot, sweaty, and tired. I walked to the sliding glass door and knocked to let Maddy's mom know that I was done for the day.

No answer. I knocked again, louder this time. Still, there was no answer. With a sigh and a quickening of the heart, I slid the door open and poked in my head.

"Hello?"

"Here," she called from a far room.

I went in, closed the door behind me, and followed the voice. The house was a refreshing blast of cool, air-conditioned air after the sweltering humidity outside. To say that I didn't know what was coming would be a lie, but I still did not fully believe what Maddy had told me was true. Things like that just didn't happen, not in real-life, not outside an adult film or Hollywood teen-sex comedy. Still, as a rather naïve and horny eighteen-year-old, I had my hopes.

"Mrs. Tasker?"

"Here."

I pushed open a door. She was on a bed, sitting up so that her back was against the headboard.

I swallowed. A growing lump worked its way up my throat. My heart raced.

She wore a see-through red nightie, a matching garter, shiny red boots, and not much else. Her round breasts looked full and ripe, stretching the fabric of the nightie so that I could see her pointing nipples. Her amber hair spilled down her neck and spooled over her shoulders.

I went hard, my cock like a soldier who had snapped to attention at a moment's notice.

"Time to pay you for your services, young man," she cooed.

I didn't question what was happening. To open my mouth, to consider it too long in my mind, it would break the spell. I only wanted this wonderful waking dream to continue.

She beckoned me with a long finger, and her pink tongue slipped out to wet her lips. Like an obedient zombie, I went to her. She moved, lying on her stomach, her head at the side of the bed, level with my crotch. I stopped when my zipper was parallel with her red-lipsticked lips. My cock had pitched a silly-looking tent in my shorts. Mrs. Tasker looked pleased.

"Oh, my," she said. "You'd better take that monster out of its cage."

Feeling slightly dizzy, I unzipped my shorts. My hands tremored, just a bit, as I pulled out my engorged shaft. I couldn't believe this was happening. My cock hadn't felt so hard in my life.

"Mmmmm, may I kiss it?" Maddy's mom asked, looking up at me with shiny green eyes.

I croaked something that was supposed to be a yes, and she must have understood because a moment later, I felt her lips at the side of my erection. Her tongue darted out, licked me. I shivered in pleasure. I wanted to clench my eyes shut, wanted to relish the feeling, but I forced them open, forced them to watch. It was as if I turned away, if I blinked, it might all disappear.

When I felt her lips slip over the head of my penis, I sucked in air between clenched teeth. My mouth felt dry, and the lump in my throat hardened. It was really happening. Maddy's mom was sucking my dick, and it felt AMAZING. In spite of the air conditioning, I felt a new line of sweat beading on my brow.

12
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