I was eighteen years old when this all happened. At the time it shocked and surprised me and I had a hard time accepting my incredible good fortune. The experience I'm about to relate quickly became something I'd never want to change. It became a part of my growing up. It was nothing but an awesome adventure that became the basis of my sexual maturation.
I lived with my parents, sister and brother in a nice house in a nice suburb of Atlanta.
It was a Saturday morning in May. A gorgeous day. I'd been for an early run and as I arrived home, Mrs. James, the next door neighbor, was waving at me. She wasn't waving a good morning kind of greeting, it was definitely a wave that asked if I could go over and talk to her. I slowed and approached. "Hi Jeff, how are you....?" She began.
In my eyes, Lynne James was an attractive woman of about 30 years old, somebody I should respect, say 'hello' to when we noticed each other. Not somebody I'd be hitting on, not somebody I should look at in an 'I'd love to fuck her' kind of way. She wasn't somebody that would have any interest in me for starters. She was a neighbor, a different generation, off limits and never in my mind.
I suppose I was polite, friendly, even good looking in an eighteen year old kind of way. I was into school work, sports and second, sometimes third base foreplay.
I'd been favored with a hand job on rare occasions courtesy of my girlfriend of two years. There was the promise of more to come one day. We'd told each other we'd wait until we were nineteen for some stupid reason. A distant seven months away.
Of course there was a Mr. James. His name, for what it matters, was Bob, in fact, wherever he is now his name probably still is Bob. He seemed pleasant enough. He left the house early each day in a suit and tie and came home late most days with his tie loosened and the jacket over his shoulder. He drove a big Mercedes, she drove a smaller convertible one.
At weekends they'd have occasional pool parties, they'd have their share of visitors and they generally just fit right in with the rest of the folks in our world. It seemed then as if they had a typical upper middle class life style much like everybody else our family knew. There were no kids but that didn't mean anything. Just the way it was.
On this day, Mrs. James needed my help and I was happy to oblige. She'd had a dresser delivered that was sitting in the first bay of their garage and she wanted to ask if I could help Mr. James take it into the house. She smiled when I offered my assurance that I'd be happy to help but frowned when I said I'd get showered and come straight back over to her house. That wouldn't work for her. Mr. James was headed off to the golf course, could I do it right now? Why not?
Her husband showed up and explained the plan. He was looking at his watch as he addressed me, no problem, we shook hands and got on with the job. We started by unwrapping the plastic that was wrapped around the thing and removed some protective corner pieces.
I went to grab one end as he approached the other. She interrupted us and asked us to remove the drawers before taking it inside. He told her we could manage it with the drawers in place as he looked at his watch again. She basically insisted that it was going to be done her way "Take the fucking drawers out Bob because I don't want them sliding out and falling down the fucking stairs or banging into the fucking walls that were painted two fucking weeks ago and if you would like to shut the fuck up you'll get the fuck out of the house and off to the golf course where you can play with your fucking dumb ass buddies a lot more quickly." She didn't pause for breath and her husband seemed to get a clear message. I silently agreed it was perhaps better to start removing the drawers.
The drawers each had a safety catch at the back. It took five minutes for us to realize this and he was fuming and sweating as he tried to pull out the top drawer, moving onto another one when he couldn't slide it out. It was Lynne who leaned into look and suggested that he "twist that little thing downwards and maybe it'll come out." It did. So did all the others. He looked at his watch before taking hold of his end of the dresser.
"Bob, just get the dresser into the bedroom, go to your golf and I'll put the drawers in myself, ok dear." He was okay with that.
The thing was fucking heavy. Bob was getting more annoyed with each backward step. I wanted to offer to go first if it would help him but I didn't want to speak and interrupt progress. I concentrated on holding my end up and staying out of their issues. Finally we had it in the bedroom and as Bob set it down his arm went to his lower back as if there was some kind of injury there. He seemed to think better of making any announcement and he looked at Lynne to ask if his work was done. She scratched her chin, looked at him, looked at the dresser, back at him and said "yes, go, have a good game."
As he left I slid the thing into position against the wall. She became a friendly, smiling, happy lady. She was nothing at all like the lady that had been in the house up to the point that the husband had left.
Eventually it seemed to be in exactly the spot she wanted it. Opposite the end of a king sized brass bed. Beneath and perfectly centered with a huge ornate mirror. She smiled and asked my opinion. Apart from wondering why the fuck she'd care what my opinion was I paused and looked at her briefly before looking back at the dresser. "It's perfect" I told her. She was happy and said she'd start bringing up the drawers. I offered to help and she accepted my offer.
She sprang downstairs and headed off to the living room as I approached the garage.
I picked up two drawers and was heading back towards the stairs as the music started. She smiled as she bounced towards the garage. It occurred to me that I was alone with a very good looking woman.
I took the drawers upstairs and installed the first two. As I was leaving the bedroom Mrs. James brushed by me on her way in with one drawer. She smiled as we crossed just inside the doorway. Her good smell is my memory of that instant and if in the same circumstances today I would certainly remark on noticing that. However, I was eighteen and had a very limited appreciation of the value or benefits received in complimenting a lady.
On reentering the room with two more drawers I noticed that she had made a start on filling the drawers. I also noticed a pile of panties and bras on the bed. Some stuff was already in the top drawer. "Shall I just leave these here for now?" I asked.
"Yes please Jeff, I am so excited to have this dresser." She smiled at her announcement and I think I managed to reply "it's really nice."
As I descended the stairs for the last drawer I thought that perhaps I should show a bit more enthusiasm, be a little more friendly.
The best I could manage was "wow, it looks even better with the drawers in." She smiled again.
