Jacob has recently moved from a small village to a somewhat larger village, still with a friendly atmosphere, where everyone knows everyone and people take each other into account and offer a helping hand if necessary.
He lives in a street with detached houses, one smaller, the other larger, and all very different. His has a spacious garage next to the house with a rustic wooden gate in between that leads to the backyard. Behind the garage, built against it, is a garden shed, at the back of the house is a deep backyard.
Jacob has been a widower for over a year now, but in his old village he went crazy because of all those women who have been after him since he became single again.
So he moved, he actually wanted to live a bit smaller too. But now he has the same problem again, here too the women have discovered him and apparently consider him to be freely huntable game. All widows and other single ladies have a crush on the fresh widower. They're continuously knocking on his door, with welcome gifts, a chat, curious questions, casseroles, he just goes with the flow, without much interest, invites them all in, because that's what's expected of you in a small community.
They come and go, he saves quite a bit on his dinner, at least one casserole every week, not all equally tasty unfortunately, so in such a case it goes straight into the bin. Just a pity that each dish is accompanied by an old dried out biddy.
Until at some point he sees that one tasty neighbor walking by, damn it, he thinks, if I can catch that one in my net, she's mine, I wouldn't mind her knocking on my door.
It's a madhouse this morning, one neighbor after another on the doorstep, he really wonders if they have nothing better to do.
The ladies have all found the time to bake for him, and he doesn't even like cakes and sweet pastry.
It started already at nine o'clock, a small gray-haired woman with a wrinkled face, like a dried apple, the artificially applied too bright blush on her cheeks reinforced the image even more. A high-pitched little voice asked him if she wasn't causing him any inconvenience, after all it's still so early, but she wanted so much to get acquainted. In the meantime, she held out a foil-wrapped rectangular object at him. Probably a cake or something, but he almost dropped the thing when he took it over, gosh, what a weight. It will be heavy on the stomach, he thought, maybe just put it straight in the bin? He had let her in, Gerda's her name he thinks, reluctantly, and offered her coffee.
And it didn't stop there, while he was still standing at the sink, the doorbell rang again. This time an extremely chubby woman called Trudy, huge messy head of hair, dyed black, and clothes much too tight, everything was bulging out, very distasteful, in his opinion. Normally he likes his women to be at least a plus size, but this... She brought an appetizing looking Swiss roll, the lady can clearly bake, she just shouldn't eat it herself.
Then the bell rang, intermittently, two more times, producing a scrawny, lanky gray-haired woman, Elsa, with a sour face and a bowl of whole meal muffins, and a moment later a little blonde woman, Pauline, with a sweet smile but as he remembers from another visit, not the sharpest tool in the shed. She brought a gingerbread with nuts, and while he is still busy pouring coffee, the doorbell rings again. At this speed it'll take ages, he sighs to himself, and he also has to get rid of them again. He shuffles to the front door again.
Standing outside is a woman of about fifty-five, the youngest so far. Pointed nose, hefty overbite, unnatural red hair and a bosom as flat as a dime.
'Oh, hello, I'm Magda, your new neighbor. I thought I'd drop by and welcome you to the neighborhood, you're probably in desperate need of some company, aren't you, you poor thing? It always takes some getting used to in a new environment, you don't know anyone and you must be lonely as a man alone, especially at night,' she rattles. 'Look, I baked you a nice cake, do you like nut cakes?' Jacob is horrified, he finds nut cakes disgusting, but has been brought up too well to show it. He's also too well-behaved to slam the door in her face unceremoniously, even though he'd like to. What a nag, he can't get a word in.
'Oh, thank you Magda, I'm Jacob,' he mutters instead, 'would you like to come in for a coffee?' A radiant smile appears on Magda's face and she quickly steps over the threshold, what a handsome man, she thinks, and a widower, she knows, even better.
But that radiant smile disappears as soon as she steps into the room and sees that it is already full of neighbors who had come up with the same idea.
It is now such a racket in the room because of all the clucking, it looks like a chicken coop, the only thing missing is the rooster. His cat has already run off through the cat flap, he couldn't take it anymore, cats have very sensitive ears. Jacob himself also has an almost irrepressible urge to disappear, but unlike the cat, he cannot just run away, he feels obliged to behave like a good host.
Then the doorbell rings again.
Oh god, he thinks desperately, not one more, hasn't he seen them all by now? Definitely another dried out old sourpuss. He shivers with disgust thinking about it. Just like a fruit bowl, the company in his living room, he thinks grimly, dried out apples, sour plums, mushy bananas with age spots, anything but fresh and fruity.
He shuffles despondently to the front door. He hopes he has enough coffee in the house, because boy, the room is already full and here's another one.
But then he opens the door, and in front of him is his dream woman, the appetizing neighbor with the beautiful curves, the lascivious walk and the cheerful eyes. He always secretly watches her from behind the curtains when she walks by.
Jacob may be 68, but there is nothing wrong with his libido, he is still very much interested in sex. Unfortunately, it wasn't worth much in recent years during his wife's illness, not much happened in the bedroom, except sleeping. Since he's been a widower, he hasn't had a shortage of offers, they just about jump on him, but none of those women attracted him in the slightest. Moreover, he does not want to run the risk of being immediately sucked into a new relationship, as far as he is concerned, that's all in the past.
'Good morning,' says the voluptuous lady standing in front of him cheerfully and looks at him beaming.
She has a box of multicolored violets with her, the pretty little ones.
For you,' she says, 'self-sown, I saw you have them in the garden too and I thought that might make a nice welcome-to-the-street gift.' He's clearly happy with it, she sees, she gets a radiant smile from him.
'I think that's very kind of you,' he stammers timidly, he's so taken aback by her appearance that he's lost his composure for a moment. 'Eh, maybe you could just walk with me to the garden shed, then I'll put them in a pot with some water right away, so I can plant them out this afternoon.' He gently closes the front door behind him, making as little noise as possible, he wants to have her to himself for a moment, that chicken coop inside can wait. Fortunately, the living room is not on the side of the shed, no one can see them walking past the windows. He gallantly holds the gate between the house and the garage open for her and lets her go ahead, the view is phenomenal, he thinks. When he arrives at the shed, he courteously holds the door for her and she steps inside.
He quickly steps after her and closes the door. In the meantime, she looks around curiously, it is tidy, much tidier than her own messy shed.
This is nice and tidy,' she says admiringly, 'everything neatly in its place, I'm such a slob, I always misplace everything,' she confesses.
'Haha,' he laughs, 'that's a matter of wisdom that comes with age, it's easier when everything has its own place, otherwise you can't find shit. By the way, could you grab that pot from that shelf above you for me, you can reach it better from where you're standing,' he points behind her.
She turns and reaches up. He sees the skirt of her dress creep up her beautiful ass and can't help himself, he spontaneously grabs her by the buttocks. A squeal escapes her, she almost drops the pot. He quickly reaches in front of her to take the pot from her, and she turns around at the same time. Her proximity takes his breath away, he quickly puts the pot on the workbench and takes her face in his hands to kiss her. She returns the kiss eagerly; he feels a mobile tongue slip between his lips. He also feels something else, his john thomas raises its head, he feels a pleasantly hard erection coming up.
'Where are my manners,' he says suddenly, letting her go, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 'I'm Jacob.' He holds out his hand.
'Doutzen,' she says a little hoarsely, raising her eyes enticingly to him and shaking his hand, 'nice to meet you.'
'Doutzen? Oh come on, you're not that famous fashion model from Friesland, are you?' he asks with a teasing smile.
'Haha, no,' she laughs, 'and never have been, too small, too chubby, tits too big, well, you know. Not nearly skinny enough for a fashion model. I don't exactly meet the beauty ideals.'
'Well, I disagree,' he says complimentingly, 'I think you look fantastic. And I prefer a little flesh on a woman, those skin-and-bone ones do nothing for me.'
She blushes.
Doutzen is 64, but still has beautiful smooth skin with relatively few wrinkles, she is menopause-chubby, as she calls it, and her breasts are still nice and firm, although they are now a bit lower hanging than they used to be. She wears her thick gray hair long, usually pinned up, her eyes are still bright blue.
Of course, both Doutzen and Jacob have aged quite a bit over time, but they are still enjoying life to the fullest and have learned not to take themselves too seriously.
Doutzen, he thinks again, maybe not the fashion model, but still a beautiful Frisian first name, it suits her. He lets his eyes go over her body appreciatively, so close up she looks even more appetizing than from a distance. He decides to go for all or nothing and starts undoing the top button of her sky blue and white striped button-down dress. He hears no protest, instead she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him again, tossing one hand through his short gray curls. They lose themselves in a tantalizing French kiss, meanwhile Jacob makes steady progress with the buttons. At one point he has reached her stomach, he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss and holds her an arm's length away from him. She sees the admiration on his face, it feels really good.
The dress opens a little at the top now, revealing a bra containing a pair of still full, round breasts, and not exactly small ones, he involuntarily wraps his large hands around them and can't suppress a grunt of excitement. Doutzen feels herself getting wet, something that hasn't happened in a long time, she is amazed at herself.
'My turn,' she says impatiently, and starts to unbutton his shirt. Jacob lets her get to it, she deftly does them all and soon the shirt falls open, he quickly takes it off. She looks at his arms in disbelief.
'Wow!' she whispers.
'Yep, I was pretty wild in my younger years,' he laughs, 'but luckily it didn't do any "damage", except for this,' his arms and shoulders are covered in intricate tattoos from top to bottom.
Man, she thinks, how exciting, she once considered getting a tattoo herself, but never came round to it.
