Authors Note: As most of you who frequent my stories can guess, these entries are typical length for me. Lots of story development and of course LOTS of good titillating action. I hope you all enjoy them and of course VOTE (Preferably with 5 starts)! Enjoy! M.
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William was a tired, quiet man but not really all that old, only in his mid-fifties. He wasn't always this quiet or quite this tired, but when his wife, his one true love, died suddenly from a heart attack William retreated into his quiet world, simply marking the passing of the days until he would join her where he believed she had gone.
William's friends had tried to draw him out, encouraging him to date, but to no avail. The constant bombardment of dating site commercials on TV promised to find him a new true love and a lasting relationship, but that too seemed hollow. "How could one replace what he had found with his late wife?" He asked both his friends and the TV, never receiving anything close to a good answer.
William and his wife lived in a simple twelve hundred foot two story house in the suburbs. It was like many subdivisions built in the seventies and early eighties, cookie cutter houses lined up in neat rows, side by side, only small front yards, nicely sized back yard and of course very little side yard. The houses were so close that you could almost jump from roof to roof.
Each little house was set with an equally cookie cutter privacy fence for the back yard with tall thin trees planted between the houses to shield them from each other. William's house was the exact mirror image of those on either side. Kitchen, dining room, family room and one bathroom on the ground floor, two large and one small bedroom on the second floor with a single full bathroom. What made the houses in this development a bit unique was the second story deck, taking place of a corner of the main house. The ground floor had a nice concrete patio accessible from the kitchen and also from the dining room through large glass sliding doors. Above that was a ten foot square wooden deck that was accessible by identical sliding glass doors off the master bedroom and surprisingly, the upstairs bathroom.
This unusual arrangement turned out to be one of the things William's wife loved about the house. In the summer mornings she would step from the shower, wrap a towel around herself and step out on the patio to enjoy the sunrise coming over the distant hills. She always claimed it soothed her and got her morning off to a perfect start. When the weather was too cold to allow her to stand on the patio William would frequently find her looking to the east through the sliding glass door, soaking in the sunshine as the rays peeked over the hills. She never set an alarm clock, but uncannily she only missed the sunrise when she had to be up and gone before the sun did.
Now William got up each morning, as he always had with her, but instead of watching the sunrise he watched the hardwood planks of the deck as the orange rays angled down through the railing around it and lit the favorite spot where she loved to stand.
Yes, it was easy to see that William had lost the ability to see the brightness in the world, choosing instead only to see the brightness of the past and the gloom of the future.
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When Shelly moved into the house to the east of William, she didn't know what to expect. It was her first house, having moved from a twenty fourth floor apartment in New York. She had visions of what suburban life would be like, meeting neighbors and making new friends. Most importantly she was looking for a quiet safe place to raise her two small children. She liked the quiet surroundings, having a safe place for her boys to play, pretty much everything about her new home. She'd been in the house for a good six months and had met many of the neighbors around the neighborhood, but not the quiet man next door. She'd been told that he was a vibrant and active man until his wife suddenly passed. Each morning she saw him as she stepped out of the shower and looked out the sliding glass door. He stood there staring at the little deck, just standing and staring at the boards.
She wondered what he was thinking each morning, and also why he was so quiet. He didn't seem to be a bad sort, just very quiet, as if he were always contemplating something consuming. She had waved at him many times when he was leaving and even on some mornings from her own deck, but he never seemed to respond. She could see down into his back yard, what looked like flower beds mowed down as low as the surrounding grass, a pool and built in spa meticulously maintained by some service, but seemingly never used. She wished she could afford a luxury like that. Her boys would have loved to have a place to swim all summer instead of running through the sprinkler, but it was what she could afford.
Shelly stepped from the shower as usual, and looked past the dying branches of the dying tree between their houses and saw him standing there in his underwear, the sun shining brightly in through the glass doors, illuminating him as he stood and stared for long quiet minutes at a spot on the deck. At times he seemed almost as if he were in tears.
She opened the door and stepped onto the deck, the bright pink fluffy towel wrapped around her body, her double D cup breasts pushing it out far enough that it would be hard to tell that the rest of her body was slender and trim. For some reason she was drawn outside today, the morning less than chilly but not exactly warm either. Goosebumps sprung up on her arms and chest as the late October morning air caressed her shower warmed skin.
"Hi!" she called, waving her hand at him to attract his attention. He wasn't bad looking, especially in the boxers he had on. He was older, maybe mid fifties, slightly graying around his temples, but otherwise he looked strong and what she would call ruggedly handsome. She walked all the way to the railing, getting as close as she could to him, only thirty or so feet away, and waved again to get his attention.
"Good morning!" she called a bit louder.
He looked up at her, his features showing how startled he was before he disappeared from sight.
"Was he blushing?" She wondered as she waited a few moments for him to return before turning and walking back into her own house.
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As had become his habit of late, William showered after getting up and pulled on a pair of boxers. He stepped to the door, not really even considering if anyone could see in, and stood staring at the spot where his late wife used to stand, the sunlight beaming over the hills as the orange slice of brightness slowly climbed and grew, soon to be a full round orb headed high into the sky. The sun had almost cleared the hills, only a small sliver bitten from the orange disk by the hills when he noticed her.
She stood on her own balcony, staring not at the sun, or the scenery, but at him. She leaned against the railing of the deck, almost as if she were reaching for his deck at the same time, the pink towel wrapped around an obviously curvaceous body. Her slender legs were long and looked, well, both strong and sexy at the same time. Her arms were likewise proportioned to her body, the only thing seeming out of place on her obviously slender form was the size of her breasts. Even through the heavy towel he could tell that they were large enough that even using both hands he would have trouble fully covering one of her breasts. He felt his groin stir at the thought of his hands wrapped around her breast. His eyes had just completed another trip up and down what he could see of her body when he realized she was waving to him.
Embarrassed at both his thoughts and his near nudity, he retreated from the window, feeling his face flush red. He shook his head, wondering what had brought those thoughts, thoughts of naked breasts in his hands, to the forefront. They had quickly overtaken even the mental image he held of his wife standing in the sun, basking in its morning glow. He felt embarrassed that he had so easily allowed the image of her to be pushed away.
Quietly he dressed, heading downstairs to eat a quick breakfast before walking to the garage to drive to work. He started the car and backed out, surprised to see her again, standing on the front porch, a thin bathrobe containing her body and those large most likely luscious, breasts as she bent to pick up the morning newspaper, a large mug in her other hand. She straightened and watched him drive by, a slight smile on the corners of her lips.
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