*A story for/about a friend, hope I do your history justice*
*This is my retelling of an online friend's experience. The names and places have been changed to protect the guilty, and one or two embellishments have been thrown in. It is sexual in places, not as much in others. Not sure if I mean this to get people off solely, as I do intend with most of my other stories, but I hope it is sexual enough for the ones just hoping to get off and real enough to get my friends true experience across to those who care about such things. Either way, I hope you readers enjoy it.*
*****
-1997-
Riding a motorcycle in winter at 11:30 at night sucks rancid ass. Chris had to ride home after his shift at the cold storage plant about that time 5 nights a week and as the seasons changed and the weather got more and more bitter, Chris hated the ride home more and more. But, at least he had been able to keep this piece of crap Honda Nighthawk running for a while. It was down most of the summer and Chris had had to try and bum rides during his summer construction gig. He had managed to get the old '84 Nighthawk running before the semester started.
He loved to ride when the weather was nice. It always brought back one of the few fond memories he had from his childhood, riding with his dad and then his on his own on his first dirt bike, a CR250, through the hills outside of the little Montana town he grew up in. Now in his mid-20's, and feeling a helluva lot older than his actual years, it took him back to a simple and happy time.
Riding home with a bitter February wind numbing his face and cutting right through him, he hated the damn bike and yearned for anything with a closed cab and a windshield. But he toughed it out, because that's what you do. You tough shitty times out and don't bitch. The mantra played through his head almost the entire ride home every night, sometimes in his own voice but mostly in his father's voice, echoing in his head as the engine whined and the wind whipped.
Chris would cut the engine and coast up to the little duplex apartment he lived in, trying to be a good neighbor and not wake up everyone within 4 or 5 houses. He'd guide the bike over the driveway and across the dead lawn and around to the back of the building where his entrance was. He'd park it right in front of his door, running a thick chain through the wheel and around a light post to deter anyone with an idea of getting a free ride. It wasn't a horrible neighborhood, but close enough to the really shitty part of town that he kept what little he had locked up and out of sight as much as possible. The white trash meth heads in the little town are some sharp opportunists and know how to steal a rug from under a table without moving your dinner plate.
The houses immediately around his apartment were nice enough. A large 2 story home on the corner with about an 8 foot fence around on one side and a nice, smaller home, maybe two bedrooms, with a full basement that had been converted to an apartment on the other. The smaller home was close, probably only 15 feet or so from his with a chain link fence in between. His duplex apartment wasn't bad. It wasn't great either. 'Modest' is how a realtor would have probably described it. It was just essentially a remodeled house that someone had split down the middle to get two rents out of it. His apartment was on the side of the smaller house.
The adjoining apartment in the duplex was occupied by a single mom who must've started having kids at 16 or so, by Chris' estimate. She was barely 21 and had 4 kids, the oldest just starting school and the youngest still in diapers. Chris tried as best as he could to avoid her. She was cute and tried to flirt with Chris a time or two, but it was clear to Chris that she was on the hunt for a sugar daddy or at worst her next baby daddy. Chris knew nothing if not what trouble looked like and this girl would be a world of it if they ever hooked up, so despite the long drought he had been in sexually, he resisted the little red head's advances. He had rubbed out a few to her image in his head while in the shower, but had kept his distance in reality.
He had never seen much of his other neighbors, let alone talked to them. School all day and working loading rail cars on swing shift and Chris didn't use his place for much besides a shower and a bed. He knew the guy in the small house on his side of the apartment had a wife and a new baby and he worked graveyards. Chris would see him come home in the mornings as he left for class some days. Other than that, he kept to himself. Keeping things simple and keeping a low profile had become his mode of operation since enrolling in the trade school here a year ago.
After chaining up the bike, Chris would peel off his jacket as he walked through the front door and kick up the heat. He kept the tiny apartment freezing most of the time so the electricity did not get shut off. He had a running late fee but managed to send enough money in every month to keep the power company from just cutting him off completely. He'd kick up the setting on the crappy baseboard heaters long enough to take the chill off then back down it'd go. There was enough moonlight coming through the large window just outside the kitchen in the short hallway to the bedroom so Chris didn't bother with a light until he stepped into the bathroom to the left of the small galley kitchen the front door opened into. He'd take a quick but searing hot shower while the apartment heated up to get the frost of his nuts and then wrap up in a thick robe before heading to his bed.
Chris walked out of his small bathroom in his robe, through the kitchen, lowered the setting on the electric heater, shut off the light and was headed into his room when he something caught his eye through his window. The window in the short hallway did not have a curtain or blinds. Chris certainly could not afford such luxuries. He had put a blanket up on the hall window and the bedroom window when he moved in, but took the one down in the hallway after it turned cold and he needed every blanket he had.
He looked to his right and saw a figure in the window next door. It was the wife of the guy who worked nights. Chris had seen her only a couple of times coming and going in the neighborhood but never really paid a lot of attention to her. Now, seeing her in the window, Chris felt like he should rush past and just go in his room, but he stopped and played the peeping Tom from the safety of his apartment. Guilt creeped up a bit in Chris but it quickly left. It was becoming very obvious that this neighbor woman did not care about being seen. Chris stood on the edge of the window and peeked around at his neighbor.
She was standing in front of her living room window that faced nothing but Chris' duplex. She was topless, standing in front of the window in just some black panties. She was maybe in her early 30's, a bit of bbw, with crazy big tits. She was standing in front of her window, looking up towards the sky brightened by a nearly full moon wistfully, massaging her massive tits and stroking her silver dollar nipples. Chris instantly grew hard and instinctively stepped back a little, peeking around the edge of the window at the neighbor woman.
Her long black hair hung down over her shoulders and stopped a couple inches above the tits she was massaging with purpose. She was a pretty woman, not a classic beauty, although she probably turned more heads before the baby weight. She had dark skin and Chris thought she might be Hispanic or Native American, possibly.
Chris watched her rub her tits and nipples and his cock grew harder and harder. It had been almost 8 months since Chris had had any sex. He had hooked up with that one woman in her mid-30s who ran the bar his construction buddies hung out at a couple times last summer, but since then he had kept himself too busy. His schedule kept him hustling constantly, he had no social life, being older than the majority of students at the trade school that he attended and younger than most of his swing shift co-workers. Add in the fact that he had to scrimp and save every penny since he was paying for school himself and couldn't afford to take himself out, let alone a woman on a date, and he had pretty much become a celibate hermit at only 25 years old.
