I was just barely done unpacking boxes for the afternoon, nice and sweaty as a result in the hot August sun. Whatever possessed me to move to Georgia during the "dog days" of summer was beyond me. Well, it was the furthest thing that my wife expected when I left her and took my half of all bank accounts to roll over into my own. Sorry, Ginger, but I wasn't going to stick around for another mostly sexless year while you hung out with your girlfriends. I could almost swear that she was a lesbian, which was okay in itself, but she didn't need my help to be gay. I didn't want to lose my shirt in a divorce, so I took what I could, left no forwarding address to anyone (figured that I would contact them when I was good and ready), and hi-tailed it out of there, glad that we never had kids in thirteen years of marriage for whatever reason. It made leaving her so much simpler.
At any rate, here I was, a forty year old man starting over, such a fucking cliché, when I got a knock at the door. Bear in mind, I was hot, sweaty, and shirtless. I must have smelled like a roofer or something very blue-collar right then. One would never know that I just left a six-figure salary as a CPA, though I would presumably get work again. I had my 401 k, my savings, my new checking account, and my new name, legally changed right before I left. I would be fine until I set up my own accounting firm in the down home South. Couldn't be worse than living in Jersey, that much was sure. The Peach State was said to be good for business and I had always wanted to sample the local...fruit, shall we say.
Naturally, I wasn't a rude guy, so I answered the door, albeit in my denims and sneakers with my bare chest on full display. That must have been a sight for sore eyes to the drop-dead gorgeous Georgia Peach whom I met at the door, who wore Daisy Dukes, with a button-up shirt knotted at the bottom of her breasts and her midriff bare. She had wavy, dirty blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and freckles on her fair skin. Her eyes almost immediately honed in on first my hairy chest and then my bulge as I saw her and the little soldier snapped to attention. She nearly dropped the pitcher of peach tea that she carried with her, but fortunately caught herself in time.
"Hey, neighbor! Welcome to Riley! I'm Sally! Who are you?" she asked in a rather flirtatious manner.
"Well, Sally, I'm George. George living in Georgia, how's that for kickers! I'm from Jersey. Moving here to start fresh, if you'll pardon the expression, given how sweaty and smelly I am," I chuckled as I flirted back.
"Well, glad to see a man who isn't afraid to sweat a bit and get some things off his chest, such as, you know...shirts," Sally giggled as she offered me the pitcher, "I figured that you might be thirsty after all that moving work, especially in this awful heat. You're not catching Georgia at its best, you know. Mind if I drink it with you?"
"Sure, that's fine, but I disagree," I quipped.
"Oh?" she asked curiously.
"I could be wrong, but judging from what I have just seen, I am very much seeing Georgia at her best. I can see why you're famous for your...peaches," I grinned at my own pun there.
"Well, you know what they say about Georgia peaches, right?" Sally teased me further.
"What is that?" I asked her with curiosity of my own now.
"They're fuzzy, juicy, and sweet. And once you've had them, you can't give them up," Sally made her own meaning apparent.
"Well, that sounds like an excellent reason to try them, then," I smiled at her.
"Yes, anytime. Open invite. I swear it," Sally was a bit more forward than I expected.
"That sounds...very inviting, of course. You're an excellent neighbor, Sally...?" I hinted for her last name.
"Bottom. Sally Bottom. I love that name, too. Makes people think of my ass," Sally was very blunt now.
"Yes, you do have a very fine one, I must admit," I agreed, "and I love your name, too. It suggests all kinds of possible meanings. I'm George Jacobson, since we're sharing surnames. I'm rather exhausted for now, but I think that I might revive after this fine peach tea, some lunch, and a nice cool shower."
"How about a swim, too?" Sally offered me, "My house has a pool. We love to swim in it all the time."
"I bet that you do. Sure. A swim would be nice. Very nice, in fact," I decided, 'and then I should really eat."
"We're grilling some brats, you know. Bratwurst, sauerkraut, bacon, squash, home fries, and peach cobbler. With more peach tea, I might add. Nice, cool, and refreshing," Sally suggested.
"Is that an invitation, Sally Bottom?" I asked her with a grin.
"Damn straight it is! I want you to meet my family, anyway. They'll love you! I can already tell. Besides, what are neighbors for?" Sally licked her lips as she told me this and before I could take another sip of the tea, she sat on my lap to pour it for me.
"Damn, Sally, you are determined to spoil me, aren't you?" I laughed as I drank the peach tea.
"Word of warning...we don't wear a lot of clothing around the house, and if we visit, we probably won't here, either. Definitely won't wear much at the pool, I can promise you that. My brothers in fact go completely naked when they swim. Mama's old rule: the menfolk swim nude, the ladies wear bikinis. Ever since they came of age, the guys have followed it, including Mark, who is my brother Martin's...boyfriend, to put it mildly. Of course, half the time, we gals would get totally hammered and end up naked, too, so it works out for the fellas, too," Sally warned me.
"Oh, and will Mama be insisting upon my nudity, then?" I was curious about that.
Sally's face turned rather sad suddenly and she shook her head, fighting back tears, "Mama's...in that fine dungeon in the sky. That's how she used to put it. With Daddy. Daddy was a true Bottom in more ways than one. They're both gone. I miss them so much!"
"Very sorry to hear that, Sally. My condolences. What happened to them?" I naturally inquired.
"Drunk driver. Met them head on going back from a church function. Yeah, I know. We don't seem the Jesus Freak types. Mama was...inconsistent about some things, but so were the rest of us. Frankly, we don't go as much now. Mama and Daddy insisted. That's all. We'd much rather sleep in and have a good time. Mama's grave is directly above Daddy's, just as they requested, so he could remain on the bottom where he belongs forever, even in death. Donna Ellis, that was her name. Never changed it. Insisted that she was 'no bottom at all,' but she loved Daddy so much and he adored her. Lovely woman. I do miss her. Very much, in fact. We all do. She gave us loving and firm guidance in all things. We have had a hard time living without her," Sally alluded to her family's rare situation.
"And I take it that your Daddy was...submissive to your Mama," I sought clarification.
"Yes, very much so. He was a Bottom. That's how we all are, sir. All Bottoms are submissive at heart. Mama wasn't a Bottom, so it was easy for her to take charge. Yes, he swam naked, too. Mama knew that we were all submissive, but she got a real kick out of making the men swim nude. It was something that she called CFNM. Do you know anything about that?" Sally asked me.
"Clothed Female, Naked Male. It's a form of female domination where the men are kept naked while the women are clothed as a reminder of female supremacy. Never cared for it much myself, but if others like it, that's fine with me," I explained as Sally ground her...bottom against my dick on my lap.
I was so fucking hard right then that I had a tough time not just grabbing Sally and fucking her in any or all holes...after spanking her for being such a cock tease. I finished up the pitcher and ran to the john, where my next surprise awaited me. Sally followed me in there and knelt to fondle my cheeks while I pissed. It was an odd feeling, but not exactly unpleasant, nor was her rubbing her barely covered breasts against my back, for that matter. She didn't give me any privacy at all, even wiping my dick for me and stroking it before letting go so I could wash my hands.
When I was done with that, Sally planted a very wet tongue kiss on my lips and warned me, "I am going to marry you, George Jacobson. Just you wait and see. Just please let me keep the Bottom name. I am a true Bottom in so many ways it's not funny, but rest assured that you will be one happy camper as my husband."
"When did you decide to marry me?" I expressed surprise, though this explained her sudden intrusion into my privacy...she expected this to be her house, too, someday.
"The moment that you let me sit on your lap. I knew then that I was yours. You didn't object, didn't complain, just let me sit directly on your lap and drink this pitcher with you. I belong to you now. I am your woman. Just please...try and understand our ways. We have some family traditions that are a little strange to outsiders, you see. We share so many things that few other families do, I promise you," Sally hinted at something.