Chapter One
Christopher moved into his new house with his family in early November. It was on the afternoon of their move in day that he first saw Tracy. She arrived home to her house just next door, and glanced at him over her shoulder as she walked up her driveway. He felt his heart sink as their eyes met. There was something about her. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Was it how she walked, was it her friendly smile as she looked briefly at him, was it her beauty? He couldn’t figure out exactly what it was, but from that day on, she became his fantasy.
Little did he know (and perhaps in tragedy), as she walked into her house that very same day, she fell back against the door, and played back in her head again and again the look that he gave her. Was it his smile, was it the look in his eyes, was it the way he made her heart sink? She couldn’t explain it, but from that day on, he became her fantasy.
Mrs. Harrod arrived at the door just two weeks after the Browns moved in, bearing a delightful basket of seasonal fruit. Christopher answered the door.
“Hello there.”
“Hi. My name is Mrs. Harrod, from next door. It’s been two weeks since you and your family moved in, and consider this your official welcome to the neighbourhood gift. Is your mom home?”
“Sure, just a sec.”
Christopher stepped back from the door, and yelled: “Mom!”
Seconds later, Mrs. Brown was at the door.
“Well hello,” exclaimed Mrs. Brown, and with that Christopher expressed his pleasure at meeting Mrs. Harrod with a warm smile and went back upstairs.
“Was that her mother?” he pondered as he entered his room again, locking the door behind him.
Chapter Two
Gazing out of his window at the trees in the small ravine behind their house, Christopher began to get hard again as he returned to where he was with her before the doorbell rang.
As he had imagined before, he was in her room, and she was getting undressed in front of him. She was looking right at him as she slowly reached for the base of her burgundy turtleneck sweater. A sweater that hugged her torso and framed her breasts so perfectly, it was as if her entire body was the beautiful and provocative pedestal upon which her exquisite face and flowing hair sat; her sweater formed a beautiful container from whose top the world’s most beautiful flowers bloomed.
With a look in her eyes that would drive most any man wild, she slowly raised her sweater. For Christopher, it was as if time stood still. With each inch of milky white flesh that was exposed – first her stomach, then her supple breasts, then her perfectly aligned chest and shoulders framing the nape of her neck. And what a neck it was. As if drawn by a world famous artist, the lines of her torso and the shadows cast by her breasts created an iconic view of perfection and beauty – he began to feel the pressure of his engorged cock pushing against the fly of his pants. Almost in pain and agony out of his absolute desire to touch her, and with his heart racing, he reached out and imagined touched her breast. Christopher was on his bed now. With his eyes closed, he slowly stroked his member, as he visualized the scene before him.