I first met my next-door neighbour shortly after she moved in. The moving van showed up and blocked the street and I was unable to pull into my driveway. I parked on the street and got out of my vehicle. The house next door was a beehive of activity. Movers were lugging boxes and furniture down the truck ramp and into the house. I stood to the side and looked for someone in charge. I admit to being a little angry despite the need for the movers to do their business.
I hovered and waited. Finally, a man appeared who I thought might be the supervisor. I waved to him and he came over to me looking like he was ready for an argument.
"Hi," I said. "Sorry, but you're blocking the street with your truck." I looked at the truck, backed up into the driveway, but with the rest of the truck extended out into the street.
The man looked at his truck and then back at me. "Sorry, buddy," he said. "I've no choice. We shouldn't be much longer."
I watched two movers walk down the ramp carrying a large couch. "How long do you figure?"
"A couple of hours, tops."
I looked at my watch. I'm not sure why I did. I knew what time it was. I looked around the yard, littered with other boxes and packing paper. I scratched my head. There was nothing I could do or say. I shrugged. "All right. Thanks."
The man just looked at me for a little and then moved off to enter the truck. I stood there helplessly. I was at their mercy and wondered what it was I thought I would accomplish. Movement caught my eye and I saw a young woman, red hair flashing in the sun, emerge out of the front door carrying a clipboard. She was looking at it and not watching what she was doing. She was walking toward me and marking something on the clipboard with a cheap pen. Her foot caught the edge of the lawn when she stepped off the walkway and she spilled forward, the clipboard and pen spinning away.
I was only a couple of feet away and I lunged to catch her. I reached out and grabbed her and found myself holding her around the waist with one hand and the other grasping her right breast. She made a cry of alarm and I held her entire weight. She struggled to find her footing, and I righted her back on to her feet.
My hand lingered on her breast perhaps a little too long. I let go of her waist and then her breast. It had been a wonderful feeling. Her breast, probably a C cup, was braless. It had felt so soft and warm.
She let out a breath and started to apologise and thank me. She looked up at me and I lost my thoughts in her eyes. She was stunning. Freckles painted her face and I could see a touch of a sunburn on her cheeks and nose. She had bright green eyes and a smile that crinkled her eyes. She laughed and looked embarrassed.
"Thank you for catching me!" she said.
"My pleasure," I finally managed to say. The feeling of her breast in my hand lingering on my mind. "That was quite the trip! Sorry about the..." I waved in the general direction of her breast.
"Ha! No issues. Thankfully, they're big enough to grab, eh? And you caught me so easily!" she laughed.
Her breast had felt wonderful. I couldn't help myself and I looked her over. She was easily a foot shorter than me. Thin and fit, large breasts for her frame, and a narrow waist. I couldn't see her ass, but from the front it looked full and round. She was gorgeous. A real knockout. And most likely my new next-door neighbour. I stuck out my hand. "Hi, I'm Bill, your next-door neighbour."
She shook my hand warmly. Her grip small in my hand, but firm. She smiled up at me and her face seemed to light up. "Oh! Nice to meet you! I'm Jennifer. Finally, I get to meet who's next door."
"Yeah, that's me over there." I pointed at my house. "I'm not sure who lives next to you on the other side. The house is empty most of the time. Where are you moving from?"
She named another area of the city. "I used to rent an apartment. I finally saved enough to buy a house and I love the area, so when this house went on the market, I snatched it up."
"Oh, so you're from here?"
"Whole life," she answered. "I always wanted a house, so here I am."
She looked rather young to me. Maybe in her mid-twenties. It was quite a feat to put a down payment on a house at her age, especially in this area. The houses were expensive since the area was one of the more sought-after areas to live in. I said as much to her.
It surprised me when she blushed. "Yeah, well. I had the means. So why not?"
I laughed to hide my embarrassment. I hadn't meant to pry. "Are you married?" I asked. That seemed like a safe question. She seemed uncomfortable right away, and I mentally kicked myself.
"No, just me. I never met the right guy."
I mumbled something or other, feeling like a jackass.
"So what do you do?" she asked.
I almost heaved a sigh a relief at the change of topic. "I'm an author," I said.
"Really? That's so cool! What do you write? Would I know any of your books?"
I wrote fantasy novels, but my real income came from writing erotic literature. Years of fighting for sales in my fantasy novels hadn't worked out for me. Years ago, I started writing erotic stories under a pseudonym and to my surprise it really took off. I was pulling in about 10K in sales a month. I had quit my regular job and became a full-time writer, realising my lifelong dream. The appetite for erotic fiction was massive. And thankfully my imagination was unlimited. But I couldn't tell my neighbour that. So, I fell back on my fantasy novels. It was always a safe bet. "I write fantasy novels. I have two series published."
She looked impressed and asked for the titles. I told her and handed her a business card.
"The QR code on the back will give you my first novel for free."
She looked at the back of the card. "Wow, cool. I must check it out." She looked at the front and read my name. "Can I pick up your books in the bookstore?"
I shook my head. "No, only online."
"Cool," she said. She looked me over. Openly and I must have squirmed a little because she laughed. "Sorry, I'm not checking you out! Just trying to figure out how old you are."
I told her and she looked surprised and then she smacked my arm.
"Get out!" she said. "No way! I would have said thirty-eight and I'm an excellent judge of a man's age!"
I shook my head and chuckled. "I get that a lot. No really, I turned fifty last year."
She made a face and mouthed wow at me.
"So, what do you do?" I asked, curious about how this vibrant young lady could afford to move into the neighbourhood. I figured an inheritance or something.
She looked away uncomfortable. I felt like an ass.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
"No, no, it's okay," she said. "I have a degree in law and poly sci."
"Ah, okay," I replied and knew right away she hadn't answered me. She looked anywhere but at me and when she did, she looked a little guilty to me. I felt bad. "No, really, sorry I asked. None of my business."
She bent over to pick up the clipboard. I spied her pen and bent over to pick it up. I glanced at her for a moment and saw the magnificent ass she carried. It was stunning. I'm an ass man and know a great ass when I see one. She had one. She caught me looking, and I straightened and handed the pen to her. I could feel the heat in my cheeks.