The Neighbors 12

I moved into a new house last summer and things got interesting. I'm a single guy, an old-school geek I guess you could say, one whose whole life has been angling that way. I got into comic books as a kid (I especially liked the big breasted female characters even though I was too young to know why), I was in A/V club in high school, I have a college degree in Television Production, and now I have a good job as a Camera Operator/Producer for one of the local news channels here in my mid-sized city. I make enough money to be comfortable thanks to the low cost of living around here. I guess I can thank the harsh winters for that. Those of us who live here also thank the harsh winters for making the summertime extra special, a vivid green explosion of outdoor life that we all try to take advantage of as best we can. We all do it in different ways — convertible cars, motorcycles, bicycles, outdoor festivals, beaches, swimming pools. Whatever your outdoor pleasure, it's probably being done around here. My new neighbors are swimming pool aficionados. They have a nice one, in ground, with a fancy concrete paver patio all around it that gets used almost every day.

Working in TV news usually means lots of hours, and the schedule can be crazy. I've been on the morning shift for a while now, 4 AM until just after the noon newscast. It was a real grind at first, but once my body adjusted I started to like it. I head home soon after 12:30 PM and I've got my afternoons free. In the summertime that's especially nice.

The new house that I mentioned is definitely an upgrade from my last one. It's not too big and not too old; just right for a single guy like me. It's in a nice old-fashioned neighborhood, one where the streets are laid out in a rectangular grid. The houses are back to back in each block. Mature trees in most of the backyards give us all some privacy, but I can see my out-back neighbor's yard and house pretty clearly. My upstairs back window has a nice view of the pool I mentioned — it's a kidney shaped one that's lit up in the evenings with lights down under the water, giving it a soft glow. With the exception of my own view of it, their back yard is actually fairly private — tall fences and strategically placed Arborvitae trees block the view from their side neighbors, and I think maybe even the houses next to me can't see it very well, due to some big, mature maple trees. But my back bedroom window looks right through a gap in those nice old trees, and my backyard is fairly open to it as well, and that shimmering pool always seems to draw my eye.

When I bought my house two guys from work helped me move in. It was a Sunday, a nice warm early summer day, and Nico was the first one to notice the neighbors.

"Hey, you got some old spunkers, man," he said. "Check it out."

I set down the bed frame I'd just carried into the room and I walked over to the bedroom window where he was standing. I asked him, "What the fuck's an old spunker?"

"Just older folks that still got the mojo, man," he said. "Ain't you ever seen that porn site? Old Spunkers?"

"Unlike you," I said, "I don't sit around watching porn all fucking day."

It was a lie. I watch a lot of porn, and I knew just what he meant about old spunkers when I looked over his shoulder at my new neighbors, seeing them for the first time, the two of them lounging in their bathing suits by their pool. They didn't strike me as all that old, though. They're a married couple, empty nesters named Robert and Lori. He's 59 and she's 51, but they could both pass for younger. I learned all about them over the next few weeks and months. Robert is an architect, has his own firm that does mid-sized commercial work. He rakes in plenty of money from what I can tell, and Lori doesn't work. She was a stay-at-home mom, but both of their kids are in their mid-twenties now, and both of them moved out of state. Now that the kids are gone Lori sticks with the stay-at-home lifestyle. I sort of figured that out the next day after I moved in. I got home from work at about one in the afternoon and there she was, wearing a bikini again, sprawled on a lounge chair by her pool, reading a book. Nico and I had already seen the bikini, a red one that looked thick and structured. It wasn't exactly sexy in a swimsuit model kind of way, but the mysterious older-than-me neighbor woman looked more than a little okay in it.

I realized, that week, that she's a serious sun worshiper, and I also realized that geeks like me like to look at bikini-clad women, no matter how old they are. I already knew that, of course, but you get the drift. Part of my fascination was due to the fact that I'd met her, that very first Monday, in the late afternoon, when I was moving some furniture around and unpacking boxes. She knocked on my side door, introduced herself, welcomed me to the neighborhood, and gave me a plate of cookies. That's when I learned her name is Lori, and it's when I first saw the alluring, almost sparkling shyness in her eyes, hiding behind her outward friendliness. She wasn't wearing the red bikini, in case you were wondering. An untucked button-up shirt, capri pants and sandals adorned her, and a subtle perfume scented her.

It was that first Friday when I got the invitation. Lori saw me outside, and she waved at me. She put a long, flowing, gauze-thin cover-up on over her blue and white floral bikini, and she walked toward me, all the way to the back edge of her yard.

"Robert would love to meet you," she said loudly, drawing me nearer to her. "Are you a drinker? Would you like to come for cocktails at seven? We have some nice flavored seltzer if you'd rather."

"Oh. Sure. Yeah, I drink," I said, none to suavely.

And drink I did. Robert and Lori can really put it away. They have a bar just inside the French doors that lead to the pool patio, and holy cow is it well stocked, with at least two bottles of just about everything imaginable. The funny thing is, they never get drunk. They get happy and loose, but they really know how to drink. Old school.

Me, on the other hand, I'm just a thirty-six-year-old kid in a lot of ways, and holding my liquor has never been one of my strengths. After two hours of happy laughter with my nice new neighbors I found myself moving swiftly between the shrubs that separate our yards, wearing the bathing suit that I'd just gone home to put on, with my much too white, much too soft belly on display. And then the three of us were in the water, and the sky darkened to black and the pool glowed from within, and the hangover the next morning felt like my skull was bleeding.

We did it again a week later. It became an 'every Friday' thing, and bathing suits seemed to be the mandatory uniform. It was really enjoyable. I have the social life of a geek, so basically all my Fridays are free, and Robert and Lori are homebodies, too. The three of us hit it off like old friends, and the conversation was effortless.

The only thing I felt bad about was my new pattern of voyeurism. Lori was out on her favorite lounge chair virtually every afternoon that it wasn't raining, and I was often home after work. Of course I had to change out of my work clothes when I got there, and I already told you about the bird's eye view of their pool from my bedroom window. I mean, why

wouldn't

I take a quick look, or even a longer one, at my friend. It felt nicely reassuring to see her there, and it was always interesting to see what bikini she was wearing and what position she was in -- on her front or on her back, legs up or legs down. I was, you know, just making sure she was getting an even suntan, I guess you could say. That's one way to look at it, right?

Okay, yeah, I get it. It's not rocket science. I was fascinated by Lori's large-breasted fifty-one-year-old body. It's far from perfect, but it didn't seem to matter for some reason. She carries a little extra weight and she's a bit soft and out of shape, and a little bulgy where she probably doesn't want to be, but somehow it all looks womanly and nice. She complains about cellulite that I don't even see, and she frets about not dieting properly. She claims she's swimming more than she's done in the past, for exercise, but I mostly see her reading books while she soaks up the sun, sipping on sugary pink lemonade. That sweet lemonade is good in the evening with two shots of dark rum in it, by the way. I guess what I'm saying is, none of her 'flaws' mattered to me. Not in the least.

I did my best to keep the voyeurism under control, and I'm pretty sure Lori never caught me at it. But she

was

lying there in full view of my windows, so maybe there was

something

going on in her head. Looking back on it now, I'm pretty sure she was well aware.

So I mentioned that things got interesting, and after a few Friday evenings, things did.

"

Interesting!

" Lori said. "Real

serious

porn, you mean?"

"Yeah, the real thing," I said. "I mean, once it crosses a certain threshold, porn is porn, right?"

"Excellent," Robert said, nodding his approval. "That's what I'm talkin' about. If you're going to make a bucket list, yeah, man, that's the stuff."

"So let me get this straight," Lori said. "You just want to

film

it. You don't want to be

in

it."

"Yeah. I mean, it's what I do," I said. "Probably every guy who's a videographer thinks about it now and then. So what about you guys? What's your wackiest bucket list item?"

"Ha!" Lori said. "I've never even told Robert this. I want to kiss a handsome well-dressed Frenchman, a stranger, inside a smoky cafe in Paris. I'm talking a real tongues and moans kind of kiss."

"Nice!" I said. "That's doable! Unlike my wacko idea."

"Very doable," Robert said to her. "I get to watch, right?"

Lori furrowed her brow in surprise. "Would you...

want

to?"

"I'm going to add 'watching you do that' to

my

bucket list," he said. "We were thinking about a trip to Paris in the spring, right?"

"Whoa," she said, looking happily surprised. "If I'd known it was this easy I'd have written out my list

years

ago."

"So Robert, what's at the wacky end of your list?" I asked.

His happy-looking eyes flashed a twinkle and he said, "Nicole Kidman. I'll say no more."

"Oooohh!" Lori howled. "For

real?

Well at least you've got good taste! Do I get that hot husband of hers? What's his name...Keith Urban, right? Yes, please. I'm amending my list." She smiled and turned her attention toward me. "How about you?" she asked, looking me square in the eyes. "Who's your celebrity fantasy?"

"Oh, wow, should I admit it?" I said. "You'll probably laugh. Jane Fonda."

Lori's mouth dropped open and her eyes smiled. "Christ! She's older than me!" she said. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Thirty-six."

"I hate to tell you this, but she's, like, way in her seventies," Lori said. Her eyes were twinkling the way Rob's had been.

"I'm aware," I said. "She's still hot though, right? I think so. I've known about her forever; my mom used to exercise using her routine. It was on an old VCR tape. I used to watch it, when I was a kid."

"Oh my God, yes," Lori giggled. "With the leg warmers? Oh my God."

"It's not

that

funny, is it?" I said. "I mean, hot woman, adolescent boy..."

"No, it's not," Lori said. "I shouldn't laugh. And she's definitely still a hottie. But the age difference, that doesn't bother you? I thought you young guys would be grossed out by us old gals."

"No, are you kidding?" I said. I'm sure there was too much flirt showing in my eyes. I'll blame it on the good bourbon. I'm pretty sure Lori blushed, although with her sun-tanned face and the dim light of their pool patio it was hard to tell.

"Wow," she said, shaking her head in wonder. "Bucket lists, huh?"

—

An unexpected bombshell dropped, right in my lap, just a week later. It was a Friday evening like the others, the three of us sitting at the round table on the pool patio, sipping our drinks, laughing at this and that as the sky darkened beyond twilight. The underwater lights were on and the pool was glowing the way it does. The neighborhood was quiet. After a pause in the conversation, Robert's voice, softly resonant, broke the peaceful silence. I noticed Lori stiffen, looking nervous as he began...

"Lori and I have been talking," he said. "We were wondering if you'd like to check off one of your bucket list items."

"Huh?" I said.

"Filming a porn movie," he said. "We'll be your actors."

The backyard went silent again. Lori's drink was on the table, her fingers fidgeting in the sweating wetness on the outside of her glass. She watched them, her fingers, when she spoke...

"We won't be good or anything, but...we thought...it'd be fun and...with your bucket list and everything..."

"Wow," was all I could say.

"It's probably not what you had in mind," Robert said. "We don't look like porn stars, but I'll tell you, Lori's really beautiful when she's...well...you know."

Silence again, and in the deepness of it I heard the breath go out of Lori. Her eyes glanced up and met mine, just for an instant, and then they were back on her fingers. My body felt immovable, like stone. I said, "I don't know what to say, you guys. This may be the most generous thing anybody's ever offered me."

"It's not just for you," Robert said. "We think it's exciting, too. We're pretty normal people, and haven't really even thought of doing something like this, but, now that we have, we, uh...have you ever had one of those ideas that won't go away? We're sort of stuck on it, in a good way. Of course we'd have to talk about privacy. The end product won't be yours, it'll be ours. I may even have my lawyer write up some sort of a contract. But it's the experience that counts, right? You'll be in charge, making your movie."

"We've never done any acting," Lori said, her eyes nervously looking at me and not looking at me. "We're good listeners, though, and like Rob said, it's exciting to think about, so maybe we'd be okay."

Before I could answer, probably with something awkward, Robert said, "We know this is kind of an odd thing to do, being neighbors and all, but for some reason we think it's a good idea. You're a good guy and we trust you. It surprises us a little, because we don't know you all that well, but the more we think about it the more it seems like this is...almost fate, you know? Like this was meant to happen. You moving here, and something to spice up our kind of boring lives. Living here alone, without the kids, it's...I don't know, boring's the wrong word, but we could definitely use a jolt of excitement, and the bedroom seems like a good place to get it."

"Is that where it would be?" Lori asked me, her eyes big and curious, gazing into mine. "The bedroom?"

"Oh," I said, trying to calm my scattered thoughts. "Yeah, probably. And maybe, uh....it'd be great to use the pool, too. The light's really great out here at night."

Lori looked surprised. "Outdoors?"

"Oh, yeah, I can see it," Robert said. "He's got a vision, hun. We gotta go with it."

"I'm not gonna make a porn out were my

neighbors

can see me!" Lori said. "Won't there be lights and...stuff to attract attention?"

"Not out here," I said, speaking thoughts as they came to me. "I'd want it to be just that glowy underwater light. One of you could pretend to be a neighbor that sneaks into the yard, for a late night fling. Maybe you're both married to other people."

Robert looked like the idea was a good one. "My wife's away and I'm out for a late night swim, and my sexy next door neighbor shows up out of nowhere."

"Hey!" Lori said. "Do you think about that kind of thing?"

"No!" Robert said. "We're just throwing out ideas."

"Have you met Lisa next door yet?" Lori asked me, gesturing at the house behind the fence and the arborvitaes. "She just had some work done. She went from a C cup to a double D."

"Did she tell you that?" Robert asked, looking interested.

Lori shook her head at her suddenly fascinated husband. "Just a pretty good guess," she said. "What were you guessing? Triple D?" Lori smiled a knowing smile at Robert. He shrugged his shoulders. His smirk gave away the accuracy of her guess.

My mind was spinning with movie related ideas, so I threw some more out there. "If it's a secret affair like that, then it might be silent, with no dialogue, at least for the outside scenes here by the pool. With no extra lights and small cameras we could shoot it really late at night, at like 3 AM. If we're quiet we could probably get away with it, right?"

"So we're doing this?" Robert said. "We're making a porn movie?"

"If you guys really want to," I said.

Lori looked nervous again, but she nodded her head. I could tell she was excited, and conflicted. That was pretty much how I felt, too.

—

I've made a few documentaries over the years — college assignments and personal projects — so my new basement is full of boxed-up equipment. Microphones and lights, umbrella reflectors and flat reflectors, tripods, stands and cables — it's all dusty and some of it is cheaply made, but it's all workable. Video cameras these days are the same ones you buy to take still pictures; the nicer ones shoot very high quality editable video. I have four of them and a nice array of lenses. Of course, being a proper geek, I have a monstrously big gaming computer with two huge monitors, and a suite of editing software for video work. And yes, if you're wondering, I have an external hard drive that's full of porn. Doesn't everybody?

The work week started and I wondered if I should be in contact with Robert and Lori, or if we'd just talk about things at our usual Friday get-together. I found myself wondering if they were porn watchers, and if they had an interesting sex life, and if Robert had a cock that was something we could work with. I'd never spent much time thinking about men's cocks, but I was starting to worry myself with thoughts of a tiny little limp noodle between his legs, one that didn't want to come out to play in front of the cameras. It's a funny thing, being on camera. People get all kinds of shy. I've seen it happen over and over again at work, but then there's other folks who just seem to light up. I had a feeling Lori was going to be shy, but my overriding thought about her involvement in such a crazy project was one of surprise. I couldn't quite believe she was going for it, and I braced myself for the inevitable shutting down of the enterprise.

Making porn was certainly fun to think about, though, and on Monday, after work, as I changed out of my work clothes in my bedroom, certain aspects of it got stuck in my mind. My curtains were open and Lori was down by the pool. I kept my distance from the window so she wouldn't see me. She wore a big floppy-brimmed hat that day, sunglasses that flashed the sun at me like a signaling mirror, and a black and tan print bikini. It was the style of bikini she always wore, thickly padded and underwired on top, the bottom piece sort of the opposite of skimpy, squeezing her hips in a way that made visible soft bulges above and below. She looked relaxed and comfortable as she read her book. I won't claim it's the first time I'd thought of it, but as I stood there in my boxer shorts I envisioned her taking the bikini off. As she did it, in my minds eye, she smiled at me the way she does. And then the new part of the fantasy was there, as clear as day: Robert was naked too, and she played with his cock and she started to give him a nice blowjob.

The vision held as I watched her, reading her book, a hundred feet away. I pushed my boxer shorts down my legs and they fell to my ankles, and my hand went to my hard cock. I could hear my breath in my quiet bedroom; my mind was alive with fantasy. I was there, just feet away from Rob and Lori, with my camera by my side. I watched the blowjob with the eyes of a film director, feeling confident, but Lori noticed the lump in my pants. She reached for me, and then I was in her mouth, my cock bigger than Robert's. She held his in her hand and she sucked mine like a pro, the way the go-to girl on my hard drive would do it. I stood there alone in my bedroom and I stroked my aching cock until the cum shot out of it, with no regard for the mess I was making on my new rug. In my mind I was cumming in Lori's hungry mouth, her eyes looking up at me. She smiled, and she opened her mouth and showed me the puddle of my cum on her tongue before she swallowed it.