Maybe it was the new apartment, a noticeable step down from my last address. Tara and I built our dream house in a new development just on the outskirts of the city. Lots of room and wonderful amenities. Now here I was in Rock Hill Apartments. Not a slum, but there existed an uncomfortable proximity with all my new neighbors that my previous neighborhood did not have. That's what divorce does, I guess.
Maybe that was it, the impending divorce. Tara and I had married right out of college. Twelve years and no kids, no family. Nothing to show for our love. Just as well, I guess. When your wife tells you she wants to start her life over, with another woman, you feel like you've hit rock bottom. Believe me, all the sophomoric thoughts about women having sex with women--something all us guys fantasize about--all that means nothing when the woman you love loves someone else.
Maybe it was that, maybe something else. Maybe all of it together. Either way, I had started smoking again and evenings found me sitting on the back-stoop of the apartment building dragging on a few before I eventually went in to read or go to bed.
This evening was a little different. This time I had a bit of wine with my cigarette. Okay, I had a whole bottle of wine with my cigarettes. Let's just say I was relaxed. That is right about the time Kasey walked up.
"Hey, Mr. Martin!" she half-yelled as she approached.
Kasey and her mother, Shawna, lived in the apartment across the hall. Both very pretty women, I felt the divorce gods were showing mercy on me when I moved in two weeks ago. That night after moving in, Shawna knocked on the door to introduce herself and to invite me over for some pizza and cake.
"It's my daughter's 18th birthday, if you'd like to stop in," she said.
Shawna looked very inviting. She is only about 5' tall, but has a body like an ex-cheerleader, very pert and cute. Her shoulder-length blonde hair frames a gorgeous face with a slightly up-turned nose and sweet, not-overly large mouth and beatiful teeth and smile. Her slender figure complements her 34B breasts and an ass that certainly gets my attention.
She stood at my doorway that night and seemed a bit disappointed when I turned her down.
"That is so generous of you," I offered, "but I am so beat from moving in today, I think I will have to decline, this time."
"I perfectly understand," she said smiling. "Next time then, okay?"
"Great, thanks," I added watching that sweet ass disappear back into her apartment.
I closed my door and went to the bathroom to start the shower when more knocking came at the door. When I opened it, not one, but two lovely creatures were revealed this time. Shawna had returned with Kasey, her daughter who held a plate with two slices of pizza stacked on one side, and big piece of chocolate cake on the other.
"Kasey, this is our new neighbor, Mr. Martin," then to me, "This is my daughter, Kasey. She turned 18 today."
She held out the plate for me.
"Since you can't come over we thought you might at least like a bite to eat," Shawna explained.
I couldn't hide my hunger from them. Taking the plate and immediately picking at the pizza, I replied, "This is so nice of you. Thank you so much. And happy birthday, young lady. 18, huh?"
"Uh-huh," Kasey shyly said.
Kasey must have gotten more of her looks from her father. She was cute, and short like her mom, but had short, almost boyish brown hair, and was even more diminutive than her mother. Shorter than her mother by at least a couple of inches, she stood there in a well-worn, and a bit-oversized soccer uniform, appearing more like a 12-year old boy, than an 18-year old woman. She had a pleasant mouth and hazel eyes that had that ubiquitous look of surprise. I couldn't really make out her figure but as they walked away the form of her ass shone through in those shorts and appeared very feminine and appealing; small, round and firm. Very nice, I remember thinking.
Over the next couple of weeks I didn't see much of either of them. Shawna apparently worked a second shift job and didn't get home until midnight. Kasey spent each day completing her senior year at "Our Mother of Mercy High School," and each afternoon and evening either at soccer practice or at games.
I, on the other hand, had a lot of time on my hands. This was my vacation. Tara and I had booked a month-long cruis--which she and her girlfriend were now using. So, I found myself with a lot of time on my hands. I wasn't ready to face any of our old friends just yet. So I read a lot, watched television, drank a little more than normal, and began smoking cigarettes again.
The highlight of my day was going to the door to peer out the peephole whenever I heard Shawna and Kasey's door. Shawna kept a spare key hidden behind the apartment number near the top of the door. She and Kasey would slide it out, open the door, then slide it back inplace for the next time.
I found these moments to be my only excitement. It's not like I was stalking them when came and went, it's just that, well, it's just something I did now and then. You see, they were both so short, they had to kind of reach high for the key. On more than one occasion I managed to gain an accidentally revealing look at what was beneath their skirts. Such was my life at this point. This single, electrifying event would afford me the opportunity for self-pleasure later. It wasn't an obsession, but just a happy circumstance of my new living arrangements.
So here I was, sitting on the back-stoop of my building, lightly buzzing on a bottle of red, and finishing the day's last cigarette when Kasey strolled up. It was about 7 in the evening and just beginning to get dark. She was in her school uniform and toted her soccer bag.
"Did you win?"
"Of course!"
"You score?"
"Of course!"
"Hey, why'd you change back out of your playing clothes? Or was this a very formal game?" I teased.
"Very funny. No, Sister Marguerite, whenever we have away games, always makes us shower and change back into our lovely school uniforms," she shrugged. I could see her eyeing my pack of smokes.
