Neighbourly at Xmas brings unexpected gift
A special thanks to RF-Fast for helping to proofread and ensuring the story is in good shape.
Ho, Ho, Ho?
It was Christmas morning, and I jumped out of bed enthusiastically around 9:30. Unfortunately, it wasn't because of the joy of Christmas. But a bursting bladder had me stepping into my slippers and pulling a robe over my naked body. After that, I padded out into the kitchen of our new executive apartment and turned on the coffee machine. Setting just a single cup under the spout instead of the usual two. Normally, I'd have made one for my wife, but this morning she's not here and I'm rather annoyed with her.
It reminded me a little about getting this apartment. I'd been happy with our little cottage in the country. True, it had needed a lot of fixing up, but it felt far homier than this place. It had a little garden and a tiny garage that I used as my man cave. This place felt more like living in a hotel. It had no character. Fine, it had a large living room with open plan dining space and kitchen, and a couple of bedrooms, a decent sized bathroom and storage space. But there was no atmosphere.
We'd ended up here after my wife overheard her boss talking about investment opportunities and an executive apartment complex about to be built. People who bought in at the outset paid half up front and got a massive discount when it was delivered. He planned on buying a couple, leasing them out for 4 years and making a killing when he sold them. My wife insisted we get in on the action.
I was dead set against it, as I knew several people who were ripped off in the past. One as the project fell through without enough investors, and one lost most of his money. Another where the size of the apartment was 10% less than planned and was 18 months late. However, my wife insisted, and we got a second mortgage on our old place and used all our life savings to buy-in. In our case, it was only 5 months late, so all we suffered was crippling mortgage payments.
Whilst it looked good, the build quality wasn't as good as was promised either. We'd been here only a month and had the builders in to repair things that should have been done right the first time. Probably, the reason that less than a 1/3rd of the apartment block was currently occupied.
The coffee machine whirred and started pumping out my morning coffee. Distracting me from my train of thought and returning me to think about my wife and our current situation.
The plan had been that I finish work early on Christmas Eve and come home for a little together time. Take that as a euphemism for a bit of kissing and cuddling. Then we'd have an early meal, and I'd drive her to see her granddaughter. My car was off the road with a part stuck somewhere in the Christmas post. We'd spend a little time with them, and I'd drive home while my wife stayed the night. She wanted to see her granddaughter's face first thing on Christmas morning.
I'd drive over mid-morning and spend some time with the family, and around noon we'd head home for our Christmas lunch and the rest of the day together. Well, that didn't happen.
About an hour before I was due to leave work, she called up to say she was leaving for her daughters and would see me in the morning. She told me she loved me. I was in a discussion with colleagues, so couldn't ask why the plan had changed, and just had to go with it.
I spent Christmas-Eve alone, with no idea what the new plan was for Christmas. So, I might have drunk a little too much and was half asleep.
I'd just sipped my coffee when there was a sudden pounding on the door. Alarmed, I rushed over and opened it to see a young woman in a state of some distress. Her hair was wet and straggly.
"Hi, I'm Elly. I'm your neighbour from upstairs." She blurted out, grasping my hand to shake it quickly. "I just tried turning off my kitchen tap, and it snapped off in my hand and there's water everywhere and I don't know what to do."
"Shit!" I replied, setting aside my coffee and grabbing my keys. "Let's go." I said and followed her as she dashed down the corridor to the stairs.
"I'm Martin, by the way." I called after her as she ducked into the stairwell.
"Hi, I'm sorry we had to meet like this. I tried other apartments, but there's hardly anyone else in this part of the building. I figured as you were underneath me, you'd be more likely to help, anyway."
I was right behind her on the stairs when my brain noticed things and caught up.
She was taking the stairs two at a time and showing off toned, athletic legs. The grey shorts were mottled with a darker grey and I realised they must have gotten wet whilst trying to sort out the tap. However, her t-shirt was mostly dry. Now that I thought about it, I realised it was rather tight and showed she wasn't wearing a bra. Being married for years had dialled down my observations for things like that.
As we entered her apartment, I realised it was identical to mine. So, in that case, the stop tap for the entire apartment's water should be under the kitchen sink.
"I tried tying a tea towel around the broken bit, but it only slowed the water down and didn't stop it." She said, looking at the water pouring from the tap and making a large puddle on the kitchen floor. Slipping off my slippers, I head into the kitchen area.
"Towels." I ordered, as I knelt and opened the cupboard under the sink.
Yes! At the back, amongst the pipes for the sink, washing machine and dishwasher was the stop tap. Right at the back. Pulling out all the cleaning supplies to make room for me, it was still a snug fit. In order for me to reach back far enough, I had to put my nose up against the underside of the sink and reached blindly for the tap.
As I stretched to get my fingertip on the tap, I felt my belt slacken and I realised I wasn't dressed appropriately for this. My robe was partially a joke and part sexy-times robe. It came only to mid-thigh and was fine when I was standing up, but if I sat on our sofa, my tackle dangled out from the bottom. Which my wife always found funny, but sometimes earned me a blow job.
I should have run back downstairs and changed. But when the water was pissing all over the floor, modesty had to take a back seat. However, I hoped Elly didn't come back with the towels just yet. As I knew my cock and balls would dangle down in plain view.
Grabbing the tap, I tried to turn it, but despite being new, it was stiff. Moving to get a better grip, I felt the belt give way and my robe opened. Fuck! Turning it as quickly as possible as I heard Elly return. When it was off, I wanted to close my robe, but I needed both hands to shuffle back. I saw Elly's feet by my side, but I still hit the back of my head in my hurry to get out.
Snatching the sides of my robe, I pulled them closed as quickly as possible. However, looking at her bemused expression, I knew I was too slow.
"Sorry about that." I offered a feeble apology.
"That's OK. It's not like I've never seen one before. And it looked quite nice. Besides, I'm not really in a position to be a prude, am I?"
She gestured to her pink t-shirt. Which now looked like it's been painted on. The water in her hair soaking into it. Helping it stick to her breasts like a second skin, showed her hard nipples and even the bumps of her areola. Without meaning to, I looked down and saw that the front of her grey shorts was soaked. Revealing a neat camel toe, and little or no pubic hair.
"This is the second t-shirt that is soaked because of this. You're lucky I didn't come downstairs in this one." She gestured to a white, damp rag-like thing on the floor. "Imagine what your wife would have said if she saw me looking like I'd just walked out of a wet t-shirt competition. You could even make out the colour of my areola."
Because her tits were the subject of the conversation. I looked at them as I stood up. Whilst you couldn't see the colour, the t-shirt did little else to hide them. Quickly, I tore my eyes off her breasts, but Elly's gaze was on the mess on the floor.
"Spread out the towels and we can push them about to soak up the water and wring it out in the sink." I suggested.
She handed me half the towels, and we spread them out. I was about to kneel, then I remembered about my short robe. Elly noticed my dilemma and smiled.
"Tell you what. Why don't I do the mopping, and you wring out the water? I'm sure you're a lot stronger than me and will get more water out."
"Hang on a moment?" I asked. "How did you know I was married?"
"I saw your wedding ring."
"Oh, obvious really, I should have thought about that."
"And I saw the pair of you move in last month. Not that I was stalking or anything. It was just that I was the first person who moved into the building, and it was a little scary to be the only person here. So, I was pleased when you moved in downstairs."
She dropped to her knees and started rubbing the towels about. Giving me a fantastic view of her hanging breasts swinging about with her movement. The sight caused a slight twinge of interest in my dick. Damn! It's not the time to get an erection. Dressed as I am and in this strange young woman's apartment. I don't want her to think I'm a dirty old man.
Ok, perhaps not old exactly. I'm only 41, but I reckon she's only in her early twenties. Without her hair and makeup done, it's hard to guess. Perhaps 23 or 24 was my best guess. Which led me to wonder how she afforded an apartment like this. The place was immaculate with quality new furniture, as far as I could tell. I wonder what she did for a living.
I was distracted from my musing as she held up a dripping towel. I snatched it and pushed it into the sink and wrung out as much water as I could. As soon as I was done, Elly had another towel, and we swapped back and forth again.
For what felt like hours, we repeated this process again and again. As the amount of water per towel reduced, it took longer for Elly to soak up water and, inadvertently; I gazed at her bum as she had her back to me. The grey flannel shorts clung to a very shapely backside and my mind wandered into waters that I shouldn't. Certainly not for a married man.
To cover the largest area with the towels, she was on her hands and knees, her knees spread for balance. Presenting not only a bum to die for, but the curved pouch of her pussy.
It was all too easy to imagine that sight without the shorts.
I had to force myself to dismiss the mental images of gripping her hips as I entered her from behind. Suppressing a sigh, it's been several weeks since my wife and I had managed the time for more than a kiss before we left for our work. And another when we got home.
It was almost as if our sex life was hibernating for the winter. Our new apartment wasn't cold, but the perpetual dark when we were together seemed to cut off any chance for fun. Diving into bed in a flannel nightie every night, naturally that's my wife, of course, not me.
It was after eleven when we decided we'd mopped up as much water as we could. The towels were too wet to absorb the now merely damp floor. After helping her to her feet, I noticed both her hands and knees were red from the work. I also noticed that the bottom of her t-shirt had rucked up and caught in her belly button piercing.
Elly looked down and freed it and pulled the t-shirt down. In the process, stretching the cloth tightly over her breasts. The material had dried a little, but it still showed her hard nipple topped breasts. It was almost as if she was pushing them out for me. But I knew my imagination was running away from me.
Realising I was staring, I looked up and knew I'd been caught looking. However, she seemed more amused than annoyed at my staring at her tits. Suddenly, I realised she'd done it on purpose and how confident she was about her sexuality. Despite our age difference, I felt rather insecure about it.
Instead of me worrying I might upset her by ogling her, I now felt worried I was the prey. I tried to put it down to our different generations. A young woman with her looks would obviously be confident about her body.
"I can certainly say this wasn't how I expected my Christmas to start out." She commented. "I didn't even get my coffee or a shower. I certainly need one now."
I don't know why I said it, but I found my mouth speaking. "You could use ours if you want?" The moment the words came out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back.
"Really? Wouldn't that be a little weird? What would your wife say about inviting a young woman to get all wet and soapy in your shower?" She said it as if to sound all sweet and innocent, but you could tell she was playing with me. So, I played it back.
