Rose Discovered

Although Chapter 2 can be read alone, to get a full understanding of the situation and the characters, it is best to read Chapter 1 first. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this second installment in the lives of Rose and Colin. Please vote and send me your feedback. I love to read what you thought about my stories. Your thoughts and ideas are very welcome!

*****

I spent the next week with my family. Having just come home from college I had to put up with my mother’s coddling and my dad’s “let’s go get some coffee together son” with his arm around my shoulder. After the first week things started to settle back to their old routine everyone wasn’t demanding my attention every spare moment. I checked several times but never caught the girl across the fence doing anything in any way erotic. When I did see her, she was either fully dressed or wore a long t-shirt that left only her calves bare (she changed out of sight of the window). She gave no indication of knowing I was there, and I began to doubt my conclusions. Maybe I had imagined the wink. Maybe she had just had something in her eye. It got to the point where the uncertainty was driving me crazy.

One morning about a week or so after that first experience, I came down to breakfast and plopped down into a chair at the kitchen table. Just as quickly the smell of fresh coffee lured me to the counter for a cup before heading back to my chair. My mom was at the sink rinsing out some dishes. She glanced over at me with amusement.

“You look like yesterday’s leftovers,” she teased, “and that casserole we had wasn’t pretty to begin with.”

I was tired, but I couldn’t help but smile at her bantering tone. My mother could always do that to me. It was one of the reasons I loved her so much. I took a long sip of coffee, felt the hot liquid slip down my throat, heating my chest first and then my entire belly. Then I imagined the caffeine shooting off into my blood stream like miniature bottle rockets. The essential stimulant was on the way to my brain and I wished it a swift journey. I took another sip. Then I put down my cup and considered my mother. She was actually a very attractive woman. Normally it wasn’t something I thought about, but maybe the frustration over the last few days had pumped up my testosterone levels, or I was just spacey for want of caffeine. In any case, I suddenly felt proud of my mother. She was about 5’8” with long brown hair all the way to a very shapely ass.

“So Colin,” my mother said, whipping around, “have you met our new neighbors? The old lady, Mrs. Cathaway, died and her husband sold the house and moved into one of the assisted living condos over in Oxford. It was very sad really.”

She had turned so quickly, and with my reflexes still sluggish, I hadn’t had time to shift my gaze away from her ass. My own mother’s ass! I was turning into a true horny toad. Hopefully, she just thought I’d been staring out into space, too tired to completely register anything. She gave no indication that she guessed what I’d been thinking. If anything, she seemed amused. But that was just my mother. She always looked as though she was about to laugh. Everything about life had a funny side, she believed. And maybe she was right; she’d gotten me laughing often enough.

“I… no,” I said, feeling heat in my face.

My mother cocked her head. “And whatever are you blushing at?” she said.

“Nothing,” I said. “I was just thinking about something.”

“Well, have you or haven’t you?”

I grimaced. My mother was putting me in a position where I would have to tell her a blatant lie. I had never been able to lie to my mom. Maybe it was because she trusted me, and that trust was so terribly obvious. How could I betray that? Trying to keep an absolutely straight face, I said, “I have never met them in person.”

My mother shook a finger at me. “Ah-hah! You’re holding something back. I know it!”

I blushed even deeper. Oh god, if there was ever a time to lie to my mother, this was it! But I couldn’t. “It’s nothing,” I said again, “I just saw the girl. Her room is right across from my window,” I finished lamely.

My mother chuckled. “And by the color of your face, I can just guess what you saw from your window. So that’s why you’ve been spending so much time in your room!”

I gulped my coffee. But before I could think of something to say, she patted my shoulder gently. “Don’t worry. I won’t pry. But I will say she’s a beautiful girl. Quite talented too. She was the lead in the high school play this year.” My mother re-filled my cup thoughtfully. Plopping the carton of cream beside me as she said, “She’s caused quite a sensation at the high school – for all that she has just moved here in her senior year.”

I nodded. She certainly had caused quite a sensation. Though the sensation I was thinking of was likely not the same as what my mother had in mind.

“I’ve got an idea,” my mother suddenly said brightly. She turned and picked up a fairly large metal pan off the countertop. “Here.” She set it on the table beside me. “I borrowed that pan from Lili – Lili and Bob – those are our neighbors. And their daughter Rose, who you seem to have already met – well, maybe not quite ‘met’ in the truest sense of the word. Why don’t you rectify that by taking that pan back to our new neighbors and properly introduce yourself?”

“Okay,” I said, without even thinking about it much. But then I nodded. This was perfect. Hadn’t it been driving me crazy all week to know what really happened that afternoon? This was the perfect excuse. “Okay,” I said again, “I’ll take it over.”

“Great,” Mom said. Then she wrinkled her nose. “Right after you jump in the shower.”

*****

In the shower my cock retained its semi-erect state at the thought of meeting her – Rose, I now knew – in person. I pictured again those perfect breasts and thick nipples. God, washing my groin area was like an invitation to masturbate. But I restrained myself and shut the water off. I toweled off quickly and headed out the bathroom door and into the hallway. My bedroom was just a few steps down the hall, and in my hurry I didn’t bother to wrap the towel around myself as I normally would. As I passed my parents bedroom I glanced in just as my mother looked up from where she was folding laundry on the bed. It was only a split second, but just as she passed out of sight, I saw her glance flicker down to where my genitals were exposed. It was so quick, so innocent, that I didn’t have time to think anything. But a shiver of electricity shot up my spine and then settled as a warmth in my groin. My semi-erect member strengthened. I had to admit the sudden voyeuristic act had turned me on.

I turned into my room and was startled by an even more sudden and shocking sight. Through Rose’s window, clear as day – she had the overhead light on – was Rose herself. She looked to be fishing in her dresser for something to wear, for she was dressed only in a long t-shirt, although her dresser (if that’s what it was) was out of sight beyond the edge of her window.

And just as it had happened with my mother (in fact the situation felt so similar it gave me a shiver of deja vu), she looked up. For a moment we just stared at each other.

There was no question of whether or not she could see me. Just as the low sun of late afternoon had illuminated her room for me almost a week ago, so the easterly morning brightness lit up mine now. My mother would have said I was “bared in all my glory.” And it was true. Her gaze finally shifted from my eyes to my “glory”. I watched her face break into a smile. She brought her eyes up to mine again, and then slowly, deliberately she walked over to the window, reached up and yanked the blinds down.

For a moment I still couldn’t move. I was too shocked to think. First my mother and now this! And it wasn’t even time for lunch yet! Well, at least I had no question about Rose now. I was sure she had seen me on both occasions. I was sure of it! But what did that mean? In a few minutes I would be dressed and ready to take the pan over to her house. Was she home alone? Should I wait until she left? ‘No,’ I thought, ‘she smiled. She wouldn’t have smiled if she was upset.’ But did that mean she would like to see me face to face? She would think I had come to fulfill my fantasies, and maybe she wanted them to just remain fantasies? ‘Well,’ I decided, ‘if that’s the way she feels I will completely respect that. I’m not a monster. But if there was even a chance…’

I looked down at my rock hard dick. It wasn’t extremely long, only about seven inches, but it was at least two inches around, with a large mushroom head. ‘I haven’t had any complaints yet,’ I thought. In fact, quite the opposite. And she’d smiled! I repeated to myself. ‘She smiled.’

*****

I slipped on a pair of loose-fitting dungarees – my mother never called them “jeans”; it was always “dungarees”. I wondered where the hell that name had come from. I pulled on a gray cotton t-shirt. The shirt was a little tight, but I liked it. It seemed to emphasize my broad shoulders and strong pects.

I smiled at my vanity. ‘Well,’ I thought, ‘use what you got.’ I slipped on a pair of Vans sneakers. Then pulled on a black leather belt before stepping in front of my dresser mirror. Not too bad. I felt good. My cock had softened slightly, but was still a sizeable bulge in my “dungarees”. I looked halfway presentable. She’d already seen one of the most important “aspects” of my character. If she hadn’t bitten already, it wouldn’t matter what I did now. ‘But then again,’ I thought, ‘It never hurts to sweeten the bait.’

I headed down to the kitchen and grabbed the pan off the table. “Looking hot!” my mother said as I passed through the living room where she was picking up. I blushed and hurried through the door.

Rose’s house was directly behind ours, but in order to get to it I had to walk around the block. I suppose I could have climbed over the fence, but I didn’t think it would make a good first impression if she caught me sneaking into her backyard.

As I neared her drive, I slowed, giving myself time to calm my breathing. It was partly from exertion and partly nerves. I thought back to the smile I had seen that morning and firmed my stride. At the very worse I would just hand her the pan and say goodbye. Then a sudden thought occurred to me. What if she didn’t even answer the door? Maybe I wouldn’t see her at all. What if her mother opened the door? I quelled that voice. I wasn’t about to feel disappointed until there was something concrete to feel disappointed about! I stopped on the small porch before the door. I hesitated a moment, looking at the small white button that would announce my presence. I reached out with one finger to punch the bell.

And suddenly the door swung open in front of me. There stood Rose. Her face was lit with a smile -- the same mischievous smile I had seen from my bedroom window. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Rose Montgomery.”

I closed my mouth with a startled swallow, then took her hand in mine, surprised at the dry, firmness of her grip. I still felt startled at her sudden appearance. I had built up the moment so clearly in my own mind, and then to have it over so quickly – it was almost anit-climatic. I felt almost disappointed. But there was something almost feline in her eyes as she stared at me, and within moments the sullen feeling of disappointment evaporated, leaving a warm sensation that begun at my groin, and radiated outwards, until my fingertips tingled. It was sexual heat. And the girl buzzed with it. It’s the type of thing you read about in romance novels, but at that moment I became a believer.

“Come on in,” she said, stepping away from the door.

Instead of entering, I held out the pan like a bouquet of flowers. She laughed and took it. “You didn’t need an excuse to come visit,” she said. My face must have been as transparent as falling rain.

As soon as she took the pan from me, it was as if a spell had been broken. As my fingertips released the metal pan I felt my body again. Her smile still radiated heat and sex appeal, but it no longer felt like a moment frozen in time.

I stepped into the cool interior of the house, into a cute entryway with a little umbrella stand and a place to hang coats. Rose swung the door shut behind me and led the way, down a small step and into the main house.

“Make yourself at home,” she called over her shoulder as she headed into what I assumed was the kitchen. “I don’t have much to offer you. Iced tea or water?”

“An iced tea would be great,” I called back, watching her retreating form. She was wearing a white Colorado Rockies t-shirt, tied up at the waist so that her flat stomach and sexy belly button was visible. Under the shirt I swore she was wearing the smallest pink bra I could have ever imagined, but it occurred to me a moment later that it must be her swim suit top. (The pink of the top was just too bright to be meant as a bra, and the shape, like tiny triangles, were not bra-like.) Coming into the living room, I sat on the brown leather couch.

Rose came back in carrying two iced teas in her hand and, handing one to me, seated herself beside me on the couch. She swiveled to face me, propping one bare foot against the inside of the couch, leaning back against the opposite arm to sip her iced tea. She smiled at me. “Thanks for returning the pan. I’m sure mom will appreciate it.”

“No problem,” I said, attempting to keep my eyes on her face. She was holding her glass close to her lips and took an occasional sip as she spoke. Condensation ran in streaks down the glass from the icy cold drink. After I spoke, she moved the glass, and my glance flicked down. She had been pressing the bottom of the icy glass against one breast. There was a wet spot on her white t-shirt, and pressed urgently against the wet cotton was the outline of an erect nipple. I could even see the dark crinkles in it. My dick began to grow uncomfortably down my leg.

“Oh,” she said, without conviction, “I’ve gotten my shirt wet.” She didn’t sound that upset about it, and her eyes still twinkled with something; something like amusement, but edged with mischief. It only excited me more. “I think I’ll take it off, do you mind?” she said, setting her drink down on the coffee table. She grasped the bottom corners of her shirt in her hands, preparing to pull it off.

I waved a hand in front of my face. “Not at all. I know how uncomfortable a wet t-shirt can be.”

Taking that for permission, she drew her shirt slowly over her head. The shirt (intentionally, I was sure) caught on the bottom of her breasts; she tugged it up, up and her breasts bounced free. I was amazed that the tiny triangular pieces of swimsuit top kept them contained.

I stared unabashed at those twin mounds of pleasure (for how else could I think of them?) for the moments that her face was obscured by her shirt. And I’d swear she had an unusually difficult time getting the shirt up over her face and arms, giving me ample time to size up what had been only a memory in my head for the past week.

Her breasts were a large C cup with a perky lift to them, ending in thick, crinkly nipples that made tiny tents in her swim top. I allowed my gaze to linger on those delicious morsels for just a moment longer than it took her to remove her shirt. I wanted her to know that I knew the game she was playing. And I was willing to play along.

Oh, god help me, was I willing!

Our eyes met as I raised my gaze. “Whatever are you looking at,” she teased, and there was no doubt she was coming on to me.

Emboldened by this, I let my gaze wander away from her eyes again. Her nose were small, with a slight lift to it which made it different, and I decided it was part of what made her so captivating. Her lips were perhaps a tad too thin, but the dimples she made when she smiled more than made up for it. It was a face to be kissed, no doubt about it. I had already seen her breasts, but could a man ever truly see enough of them? My eyes traveled slowly up the swell, to that dark crinkling of skin that outlined her areola.

Almost regretfully, my gaze slid away from her breasts to the taut, golden skin of her tummy. Her belly button was an “inny” and I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything so sexy in my life.

Over her suit bottom she was wearing jean “cut-offs” for shorts. The cut-offs were a little baggy around her thigh, and with her right leg propped on the couch like it was, the leg of her shorts gaped open, giving me a clear view of her thigh, soft and smooth, with just a dusting of peach fuzz. I followed the inviting sight until her thigh met the thin pink material of her suit bottoms. The bottoms were indecently narrow and shear. I could see, if I looked carefully, the swell of her pussy lips. The strip of cloth was almost too narrow to completely cover her. I felt my cock twitch again where it was trapped against my leg. One thing with dungarees – they can be kind of constricting – and in this case it was beginning to grow from discomfort to pain. The longer I stared at those pouting lips and – I now saw – a small patch of wetness that was forming in the center of that tiny pink strip, the harder my cock got, and the more painful the constriction became.

When I realized there was no way to subtly shift my hard-on to a less awkward position, I decided to be as blatant as she was being. I reached down and purposely grabbed my cock through my jeans, sucking in my stomach as I settled it into a more comfortable position against my stomach. I glanced up to find her gaze locked on my groin as mine had been locked on hers just seconds before.

I broke the moment by reaching for my iced tea and taking a grateful drink. God, it was hot in here suddenly. Rose gave me a shaky smile – good, I thought, the moment was getting to her too – and reached for her glass as well, gulping deeply before setting it down again.

I actually felt a little lightheaded. I recognized the feeling. It was my endorphins kicking in. The adrenaline fueled by the situation making a mad rush for my brain. It was lust. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach like an emptiness that ached to be filled, and in the back of my throat.

Rose raised her eyes back to mine. “I am so horny,” she said.

I laughed. I suddenly felt completely comfortable with this girl, as if we were longtime lovers, not two neighbors meeting for the first time. “Me too,” I said.

“Did you like the show last week?”

“God, I was going crazy all week. I couldn’t figure out whether you knew I was there or not.”

She winked. “I know.”

I leaned back against the couch. “You devious little woman,” I said with admiration.

She blushed. “I wondered if you were ever coming over here. I was beginning to think I might have to make up a big sign to put in my window that said, ‘Hey, come fuck me!’”

“Believe me,” I said, “I wish I’d come sooner too. If only I’d known the kind of reception waiting for me.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. It made her breasts jiggle, and I became painfully aware once again of the hard on I was sporting. She must have been thinking the same thing, because she nodded in the direction of my crotch and said, “It seems we’re a little uneven on the clothing side. Why don’t you lose those jeans?”

It was true. With her skimpy bikini and loose-fitting shorts, she was at a slight disadvantage. I nodded. “I guess that’s true. But if I remove my dungarees I’ll only be in my boxes while you still have shorts on.”

She shrugged and smiled. “Okay. The shorts go. But you take yours off first.”

“Alright,” I breathed. I unbuckled my belt and unsnapped the button. I reached for my fly, but Rose stopped me.

“Let me do that,” she said. She slid off the couch and knelt in front of me. Taking the zipper, she drew it slowly down. Then she grasped my pants just under my thighs. “Lift your bum,” she said, and I obediently lifted my bum. She pulled the jeans down and I sat back down. I thought maybe she’d leave it at that, but I guess she decided I’d better take off my shoes and stay awhile because that’s what she did, yanking one shoe off after the other. She didn’t even bother to untie them. Then she stripped my jeans the rest of the way off and dropped them in a pile on top of my shoes. “There,” she said with finality. She looked up at me with a smile and that mischievous twinkle in her eye.