She had lived at number 26 almost all of her life. It was a nice large semi detached with a reasonably sized back garden. Set back in a tree lined avenue, her father kept it well maintained and it always looked homely and welcoming. It adjoined the back garden of the houses in the next street.
She had long dark, almost black hair, pale skin, with grey blue eyes. Smooth skin, and a straight nose, full lips, which when her face was in repose fell onto a natural soft pout. High cheekbones gave her a haughty look, enhanced by a good jawline and neat ears. A natural, almost classic beauty she attracted attention wherever she went. As she grew up, she loved to spend time in the garden, and did all the things that girls do, handstands, cartwheels and twirling around quickly enough to make her skirt fly up. She enjoyed the feeling of air swirling around her legs and body, and to a degree the freedom she felt when exercising herself. As with most girls, she grew steadily from a gangly child, into a well-developed young woman.
In the house opposite which backed onto her parent's house, there was a nice young man, who she spoke to now and again over the years. He often stopped to speak with her when he was out tidying up his garden. Gareth was on the short side, around 5'4" and slimly built, straight sandy hair, fresh complexion, with hazel eyes, he was quite attractive, and she enjoyed talking to him. In fact, she had a little bit of a secret crush on him. He was around 23 then, lived alone, but had a well-paid job working as an operations and scheduling planner for a large airline. A very amenable man, he wasn't very forward, in fact quite shy, but easy for her to get on with. There had been the odd girlfriend, they didn't seem to stay around for long, but he was most definitely straight, despite his softish nature.
He spoke quite fluent French, it was part of his job when planning aircraft maintenance, particularly if he was arranging services for the planes, some of which had to be carried out in Toulouse. He often dropped the odd French comment in an attempt to impress her. She never revealed that she had taken French at secondary school from aged 11 and had achieved 'A star' level at her final exams. Also spending most summers with her parents in a Gรฎte in Brittany, she was far more fluent in the language than he was.
Over the low wire fence, he showed her his garden and pointed out the various plants and shrubs he had planted. He'd never given her any cause for alarm, or made her feel uncomfortable, but she liked him paying attention to her. The two streets were connected by several small lanes that ran between the houses, so it was easy to walk through without having to go to the end of the avenue and around. So, from time to time, she would go round to his garden, and he would show her how to pot bedding plants. Always standing behind her as she bent down to tend the plants, or when she kneeled and leaned forwards using a trowel or her hands to pat the soil down.
Sometimes they would go into his house and have tea and biscuits. He was slowly renovating it, and in later years, just before she left for her aunts, she often helped him. Becoming an extra pair of hands, assisting him to run cable for the rewiring work in each room. Often climbing up on the stepladder as she fed wire to him down inside the wall channels. She noticed how well he looked after her, taking care of her safety, making sure she didn't overbalance as she reached above her head. They were friendly and she enjoyed her moments with him, he was never inappropriate, but from time to time, in the evenings as she got ready for bed, she saw him watching her in her room, from his bedroom window.
At 16 she left her home to go and live with her uncle and aunt for a few years, so she could go to a prestigious sixth form college to complete her 'A' levels prior to choosing her career path. Sharing their home with her two cousins, both girls, one slightly older than her at 20, and the other a around her age. They all got on well together, but towards the end of her stay, after her 18th birthday, she noticed her uncle was frequently watching her, his eyes full of fire, but to be fair, he didn't ever try to go any further than that. Far from making her feel uncomfortable, she found that his attention thrilled her, and she revelled in it. Often behaving in a very precocious and flirtatious manner when he was around.
She grew up and matured considerably over the two years she spent there with both of her cousins, enjoying their company, and going out together at the weekends. Sometimes in the evenings during the last few months of her stay, when her uncle and aunt were in bed, she would discuss sex with the two girls, in hushed whispers they explored the various intricacies and learnt from each other about different acts. They were all straight, but now and again when they had brought themselves up to a fever pitch of arousal, they practiced kissing with each other, as many girls do.
Her cousins were both sexually active, Helen the younger one was far more experienced than her sister, Beatrice, and described in intimate details how things should happen. She had actually taken videos with her iPhone and took delight in showing them what she had done with various men. Listening to her was an education in itself. It was clear to all three of them that their sexual appetites, as girls were just as strong as mens were, if not stronger, but not appreciated because they tended to more discreet about what they wanted.
Andrea's contribution was a little more reserved, edging around her own limited experience, asking more than she revealed. However, she did tell them in some depth, about Gareth and her interactions with him. How much she liked him, and how nice he was to her. Helen asked.
"Have you kissed him?"
'No, not yet anyway."
"Do you fancy him?"
"No, not really. Well perhaps a little bit."
Beatrice chimed in.
"So, he just likes to spend time with you, and watch you then?"
"I suppose so, yes."
Helen frowned before asking.
"Tell us Andrea, does he look up your dress?"
"He does, quite a bit actually, I've never really thought about it, but then most men do if they get the chance, it's happened to me for as long as I can remember."
"So, he's one of those guys that hang around the bottom of the stairs in department stores, peeping as we go up?"
"I don't think he's quite that, but he does enjoy watching me, I have no idea what it is about seeing our knickers that is so exciting to men, but there it is. So, what do you think I should do?"
Helen and Beatrice both giggled and looked meaningfully at each other before Beatrice replied.
"Very often, these men like to look, for a lot of them, it's all they want, but they rarely have enough courage to try and take it further. If you like him, try to seduce him. Be aggressive about it, positive, perhaps a little rough, don't even ask, just pounce on him. He'll either give in to you or run a mile."
"You sound as though you've had experience Beatrice?"
"We both have, there's a surprising number of shy wallflowers out there. Anyway, try it if you are interested in him. After all, what have you got to lose, if he takes you up, then you get a night of sex, if not, then he probably won't bother you again. Go on, give it a try."