Neighbors

Why did he invite her over to his place? What on Earth had come over him? Christ, Max was doped up in the back seat of his car, his house was a mess, and he barely knew the girl. He probably freaked her the hell out by even asking, and Jackson cursed himself as he looked back into the rearview mirror at her old Toyota following behind him.

There was a strange sense of excitement in his chest as they rounded the corner to their cul de sac. There was something that attracted him to her in a surprising way and he felt equal parts entranced by her, and like a dirty old man. The girl was over two decades younger than him, had a half-crippled mother to contend with, and was more timid than a skittish cat, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He wanted to crack open that shyness and see what was inside, to hear the things that she really had to say beyond polite conversation. Not to mention that delicious outfit she had on today.

He mentally cursed himself again. He couldn't think that way, not with someone so much younger. It was dirty and wrong. He was friends with her mother, for Christ's sake, and now he's attracted to her? Those curves, her smooth and glowing skin, her indifferent confidence, and her lips. The things he'd do with those lips...

He slapped himself on the side of the face and pulled into the driveway, watching as Aymie parked in her own driveway and then got out, leaving her paint stained apron in the car, and headed across the grass patch that divided their houses to meet him at the car. Jackson turned off the engine and hopped out, then opened up the back door to the car and hefted Max out as well, carrying him inside.

The door to his house was still slightly ajar from this morning so he nudged the door open with his knee, carrying Max in to his dog bed in the TV room and setting him down gingerly. He called over his shoulder for Aymie to make herself at home, then took her dirty afghan downstairs to throw into the laundry. He threw in a few towels of his own, set the washer to a quick wash, tossed in a soap pack, and started the wash. Then he turned and took the steps two at a time to get back upstairs to Aymie. When he came up, she was still standing in the doorway with her sandals kicked off by the door. She looked astonished.

"...This is...what your house looks like." She stated it matter-of-factly.

Jackson ran a hand through his hair. "Well yea. What, did you expect something else?"

"It's just so different from ours," she said, timidly stepping inside. "All the houses on this street look the same but...clearly they aren't"

Jack chuckled and led her into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for her to have a seat. Then he fetched two clean mugs from the cupboard and rummaged around for his tea bags.

"Let's see, I've got some green tea left...an orange and mint herbal blend...some Earl Grey..."

"Herbal sounds perfect." Aymie looked around nervously as he set the water to boil. "Are you sure you don't mind me hanging out? I don't want to intrude."

Jackson let out an exasperated laugh and turned to her, leaning against the counter. "Aymie, why would I have invited you if I didn't want you to be here?" He pulled out the chair opposite her and took an easy seat. "Take a breath. I'm not upset with you about what happened. I am more grateful than you could ever know, honey. So just relax, okay?"

That seemed to shift something in her, and Aymie slackened back in her chair a bit and allowed her shoulders to release down from her ears. A small smile came to her, those lush lips pulling up at the corners and she met his gaze and held it for longer than three seconds, which seemed to be a record for her.

"There now. Better?" he asked, teasing her.

She blushed. "Yea...better. Thanks." She looked around the kitchen then, admiring the interior design. "It really is beautiful. I love what you've had done."

Jack found himself looking around as well. "Thank you. The company I worked with did an excellent job of tailoring the place to my tastes."

"And what tastes are those?" she asked him, folding her hands atop the table.

That question made him tighten. "In regards to my interior design?" She nodded, and he continued, willing his head to clear. "Hmm, I like natural materials in as many ways as I can have them. Bamboo, balsa, willow, maple...woods that grow relatively quickly and have a variety of uses. That way it's not chopping down ten trees for what can be done with two. Make sense?"

Aymie nodded and he fetched their tea and mugs, handing hers to her. Their fingertips brushed as he passed the cup over and he swore he could feel it shock right up through his arm. What the hell was that?

"I really like the look of it all," she commented, steeping her tea. "There's a good energy in this house. Natural and bright and welcoming." She looked over. "Kind of like you. You make people feel comfortable. Or...well, at least you do for me." She blushed again and sipped.

Jack plopped his tea bag in his water and let it sit. "What's your house like?" he asked her, crossing one leg over his knee and shifting the conversation away from himself.

"Dirty, mostly." She chuckled once. "Mom and I aren't the cleanest people and it's mostly me that does all the cleaning and the tidying up." She set the mug down but kept her hands closed around it, adopting a more thoughtful look. "There's a lot of clutter, but I don't mind it most of the time. It's bright in there too. I like to have the windows open."

He tilted his head and regarded her closely. "What is it like?"

"What's what like?"

He looked down into his water. "Living with a woman who can't live on her own?"

Aymie let out a laugh at that and it surprised him. "Don't ever let her hear you say that, she'd skin you." She sipped at her mug and left a faint, pink outline around the rim. "Mom is...She's always had a type-A personality. She's a go getter and she didn't let that injury stop her from doing everything she wants to do." She looked back up at him and her hazel eyes looked deeper, for a moment. "But what does stop her is the fatigue at the end of all her jam packed days. She goes out and does what she wants, and I'm left to pick up her slack."

Jackson leaned forward and closed his hands around his mug. "That sounds difficult."

"It is," she replied immediately. "It's exhausting, which is why I'm so thankful that she is gone during the day. It gives me time to just...exist...without worrying about what she needs me to do next."

He felt an ache in his chest for her, but wasn't sure what to make of it. Empathy, sympathy, and irritation towards her mother all came to the forefront of his mind. Aymie was so young and had such a bright future ahead of her. That she was saddled with all of her mother's baggage made him angry on her behalf.

"I hope that doesn't make me sound terrible," she added on, grimacing into her tea. "I love her very much. I just can't stand her sometimes."

Jackson looked over and smiled softly. "Honey, it sounds human. It makes perfect sense. You have every right to feel what you feel. I would too, being confined like that. It's like a cage. You can shine it up, fill it with paintings and open windows and all the comforts you could ever want, but it's still a cage. It's still trapping you in."

Aymie looked at him for a long few moments after he said that. "Yeah...that's exactly it. It's like I don't have much identity beyond 'the crippled lady's kid' and I hate that. I want to be. I want to exist to someone, yknow?"

He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach. "Well you exist to Max in there, I'm sure. If it hadn't been for you, he might not have made it." She chuckled, peeking in at the dog as he snored in his dog bed. "And you exist to me."

She looked over and caught his gaze. "Really?"

"Absolutely." He pushed up from his seat and moved to lean against the counter again, closer to her. "You might not even realize it but I love when you say good morning to me every day. I look forward to it, to seeing you. It helps set the mood for my whole day."

She looked up at him and smiled, her eyes seeming to almost drag up his body to meet his gaze. He shifted, crossing his legs. The look in her eyes had shifted once he drew closer, from something timid to something a bit bolder. She didn't say anything for a long moment, just looked up at him with those doe eyes, scanning his. Her lips parted a bit and he watched her swipe her tongue across them to moisten them, and if he didn't know any better he'd say she wanted him to kiss her.

"Thank you. Th-that's...really sweet." She cleared her throat and pushed up to standing as well, nearly knocking into him. "Um, thanks for the tea. I should...probably get going. Lots to do today."

That shy, defensive exterior had returned just as fast as he'd broken it down, and Jack wondered if he'd said something to upset her. They were so close for a moment, as if exposed and vulnerable, but then she'd slammed the door shut and was making a quick exit. He didn't like it. He took her mug and placed it in the sink along with his own as she went over to put her sandals back on.

She wouldn't meet his gaze, but he spoke anyway. "Thank you for coming over. It was nice to sit and...talk with you." And look at her. And catch her smell.

"You too, thank you for having me. Take care of Maxy. It'll be a long recovery time for all those bones to set." She turned towards the door and began to step outside before Jackson caught her by the elbow and held on, making her turn back around.

What was he even going to say to her? That he felt something strange, something strong between the two of them but he didn't know how to explain it? He could see that she was lonesome and that she wanted a place to escape to. The tone in her voice when she spoke about her mother and her situation had shifted something in him, and he didn't want her to go. He wanted her, in a way that surprised him to his core, and wanted more than anything to press her back against the wall and kiss her. Could he tell her that?

"...Come back sometime, hmm? I have lots of tea." He forced a smile and then released her arm. She smiled up at him, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, and all but jogged back to her house, stepping in and shutting the door behind her.

Jackson shut the door and leaned his back against it, reaching down and clutching himself between his legs. Christ almighty, he was rock hard in his slacks. Could she tell? What in the world was he even doing, assuming those things about her? He'd never seen Aymie Ann as more than just the neighbor girl. Yes, she was gorgeous. Yes, she was polite, but he never entertained anything more than that in his head.

...until now. The ache in his groin and his sudden thirst for her kiss told him that. He hadn't been this worked up by a woman in a long, long time and it shook him. His cock stood rigid in his pants, aching for touch, for stimulation. That brush of her fingers against his when he handed her her tea made his whole hand and arm tingle. And the look in her eyes, the way she scanned his entire body made him flush with want. He wanted her. He wanted to be the place she'd go to find relief from the stress of her home, her situation. He wanted to help her forget about it all, to exist in the present and leave the weight of her mother's need behind. She needed that. She was such a pure spirit, all innocence and creativity and she needed relief. ...He could be that relief, if she would ever allow him in.

"Sure baby, you can stop by whenever. I'd love to see you. Okay...Thanks. Bye."

Aymie hung up the phone and stuffed it back into her pocket. She felt a sudden, really strong urge to call her boyfriend Derek once she stepped into her house. Her skin felt hot, and her heart was racing still. Her cheeks were flushed and she was chewing on her lip so tightly that she threatened to split it. She had felt that way with Derek before so it must have been her body's way of telling her that it wanted him close by.

Well, it was almost like this. This was something new. The way that Mr. Davis looked at her, like he was looking right through her, set her on edge and lit her up all at once. What was it about those blue eyes of his that seemed to see straight down into her fucking soul? God, that was a cliche. Aymie shook her head and went into the bathroom to freshen up. She fluffed her hair a bit and let it hang down, applying fresh lipstick to her lips and wiping off the smeared mascara from beneath her eyes. She looked at her reflection but all she could manage to see was salt and pepper hair, bright blue eyes and full, lush lips. He was so handsome, in that older man kind of way. Rugged. Mature. It made her shiver. Why did she want him like this? He was so out of her league; a successful, confident business man who'd been a single bachelor for as long as they'd been living here. Why would he ever want someone like her?

She wandered into her bedroom and flopped on the bed. She wasn't that terrible looking, of course. It makes sense that he might want her in some way, but certainly not to the extents that were going on in her head. She closed her eyes and entertained them for a moment, letting her imagination run wild.

She pictured them in his kitchen, as they just had been. As she stood up to leave, he grasped her by the hips and held her tightly, pinning her against the counter. Her back was up against his chest and his lips were at her ear, hot breath sinking down over the skin of her neck, making it tight. His hands explored her hips and tummy, travelling slowly upwards towards her breasts.

As she fantasized, Aymie's hands began to roam over her form, sliding up and down her thighs, over her stomach, and up to cup her own breasts in her hands. She pinched at them, drawing her nipples into rigid peaks under her shirt. One hand continued that work while the other sunk down into the waistband of her pants, teasing just beneath.

In her mind, things got steamier. Mr. Davis had spun her around and hoisted a leg up around his waist, pressing his hips against hers. She could feel him hard in his slacks as he grasped the side of her jaw and pulled her in for a heated, hungry kiss. He kissed her like only an experienced man could, and it made her tingle.

Her fingertips dipped into her panties to relieve some of the sweet, tingling pressure that had begun to burn there. She was soaked, and it made her blush to know that the thought of Mr. Davis did that to her. Her fingers danced along the lips of her labia, spreading that wetness around to coat the entirety of her before they moved in search of her clit. Jolts of pleasure shot through her body once her fingers made contact and she gasped, letting the fantasy play out in her head while she touched herself.

"Baby? Are you here?"

Shit, Derek was here! Aymie tore her hands away from her body and shot up to standing, shaking her head to clear the lewd images from it as she stepped out to greet him in the living room. He stepped up to her and wrapped his strong, muscular arms around her waist, giving her a soft kiss.

"You look flushed, beautiful. Everything okay?"

Derek was a big guy. Not quite the body builder type, but he was nearly a head taller than her, athletic, and brawny. He and his brother ran an exterior painting company and Rosaline had hired them to paint the exterior of their home almost two years ago. That was when he and Aymie had first met. Typically she didn't go for the burly type, but something about Derek really drew her in. There was a tenderness and deep intellect behind the muscle, and it mesmerized her.

Aymie bit her lip as she took his hand. "Just...waiting for you." She tugged him towards her bedroom, where she'd just been playing with her pussy and thinking about another man.

Derek grinned. "Is this why you invited me over?"

"One of the reasons," Aymie murmured, pulling him into the bedroom and shutting the door tightly.

She pushed Derek back onto the bed so he landed with a thud. He grinned up at her and watched as she began to undress, peeling off that striped shirt and those high-waisted jeans to reveal her naked body. She rarely wore any underwear, and the scent around her hung heavy with sex and want.

"Mmm, baby you look so good," Derek commented, sitting up to reach for her.

She climbed atop him, straddling his lap and leaning down to kiss him deeply. Derek always made her feel so good when he touched her, so wanted and desired and loved. His hands ran up and down her back while she kissed him, gyrating her hips against his while their tongues entwined and danced in their mouths.

"Take this off," she commented, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"What's the rush, baby?" he asked her, peeling the shirt away to reveal his delicious, strong torso.

She began to unbuckle his belt and undo the fly of his jeans, tugging them down forcefully. She was pleased to see that he was already hard for her, just from a few moments of kissing and touching. Her body involuntarily clenched with anticipation.

"I want you, that's what," she teased, crawling back atop him now that they were both naked.

She sat herself atop him and wedged his shaft between her pussy lips, nestling it against her but not inside. She began to roll her hips over and over, rubbing her clit against his erection and leaning down to kiss him again, deep and full.

Derek was always so vocal. He moaned out his pleasure in her ear and gripped at her backside, giving each cheek a slap as she worked her lips against his rigid member. She coated him in her wetness before rising up just high enough to guide his cock inside of her, filling her up and making her shiver. God, he felt good...

She could cum from just this, she was so worked up. Derek was beneath her, but all she could see in her mind was Jackson Davis, hands on her hips, ramming his cock up inside of her to fill and fuck her senseless. Derek had his eyes closed and his arms above his head, letting Aymie rock and bounce and ride him to her heart's content. She knew that he would never let himself cum until she did - that's how he always worked. It was a matter of pride for him, and he always held out on her until she had at least one orgasm. It was flattering, but irritating all at once. In order to hold off his orgasm, he could barely even touch her, much less fuck her back or watch her move. Once he was inside her, Aymie had to do all the work.

Nevertheless, her orgasm came quickly. She leaned back and planted her hands on his thighs so that he would stimulate her g-spot while she rode him. It only took a few more gyrations before her pussy muscles clamped down around him and she spasmed, feeling her fingers and toes go numb from the sensation of it. Her eyes rolled back and her back arched sharply, pressing her tits forward while she twitched and writhed.

Derek promptly sat up and grabbed at them, pinching hard at her nipples and bucking his hips wildly up into her sensitive, swollen pussy. Within a handful of thrusts, he began to breathe heavily and Aymie knew his orgasm was close.

"Cum on my tits, baby," she whispered, and hopped off of his dick to kneel in front of him.

He knelt up, breathless and wide-eyed, and stroked off over her, his cum spurting out over her breasts and tummy, coating her in the sticky spunk. She smiled up at him as he groaned out his release, bending low to kiss her. His tongue searched in her mouth for hers and they kissed for a long few moments before Aymie got up to clean herself off.

She stepped into the bathroom and shut the door, finding a washcloth and running warm water over it. Her bathroom was on the same side of the house as the deck was and she stood in front of the window as she cleaned herself off, meticulously wiping Derek's cum from her breasts and stomach. It was fast, breathless, and lustful and Aymie found herself wanting more. Lucky for her, Derek had the stamina of a horny teenager and could usually take her two, sometimes three times before he tapped out. She grinned to herself, suddenly even more pleased that her mother was out for the day. As she cleaned herself off, her eyes happened to wander over to the window and she gasped sharply when she looked outside.