Two neighbours fall in love but each remains hesitant to pursue the other, however when the sparks begin to fly nothing will contain their passions.
This story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved, this story is protected under international copyright laws. No part of this publication should be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical or otherwise without the prior consent of the writer.
****************
Introduction
****************
Richelle slowly turned the page of the novel she was reading before taking a long sip of her iced tea. For the past fifteen minutes or about she had been serenaded by the sounds of mirth and excitement drifting over the wooden fence nearby. Her new neighbour was obviously engaged in entertaining several guests. The demure laughter and boisterous chuckling was distracting her from her reading and yet turning her on somewhat. Over the top of her book, she looked down at her slender body, stretched out on the lounge chair beside the swimming pool; the sun's ray was warming up her skin considerably, she could just feel the heated tingling. Her fairly large 38C-cup breasts were protruding obscenely against the thin fabric of her sleeveless muscle tanktop and she wiggled her toes about nonchalantly, the bright red nail polish sparkling in the sunlight.
Richelle Eimerson was 28 years, an architect and amateur photographer. She was tall, slender and statuesque; over 5' 10", with a well muscled physique but had a definite feminine edge. (A combination between a certain Warrior Princess and Quasimodo's gypsy friend.) Her long, black hair hung in loose curls around her shoulders and back and she had a richly tanned, almost bronzed complexion, which blended perfectly with her almond brown eyes. Those eyes that would gleam mischievously whenever she gave her signature cocky half-smile, displaying the button dimples complimented by her full pouty lips.
Richelle flexed her long athletically muscled legs, fully displayed in her blue jeans shorts and tried to concentrate on her book once more. The loud chatter continued to sidetrack her attention though, and her pussy slowly started to come alive, throbbing lightly. A small shiver coursed through her spine causing her nipples to grow rigid almost instantly. She flicked her fingers casually against her teats hoping to force them down and make them appear less visible but instead the opposite occurred. Now erect and stiff, her nipples poked firmly against the thin material of the vest making them easily discernible. She knew that any other attempts would be futile and just lead to her becoming even more aroused, so she desisted.
Richelle was also aware of something else that was equally troubling at this point; the fact that she needed to find another lover very soon. After all it was over six months since she and Camille had went their separate ways. Her ex had been a rather officious, older woman whom she had met at a local women's seminar – a manipulative corporate executive used to having her own way, she'd become agitated when she could no longer control her younger companion. Richelle wasn't missing Camille very much but she still longed for the comforting warmth of another body in her bed. Because she wasn't one for hanging out at clubs or bars and the few blind dates she had been on since proved to be futile, she knew that meeting someone anytime soon would prove to be very challenging but she tried to remain optimistic.
Sexually Richelle was insatiable, almost unappeasable and pleasuring herself had now become a very daunting task as she found her own body to be too needy and demanding. It took more than just one orgasm to make her feel completely satisfied and since lethargy often followed immediately, that ruttish sensation always seemed to haunt her. She squirmed around lazily, still staring at her large breasts tightly confined within her sports bra. At first she had hated having huge breasts, which did not quite suit her slender frame; they used to make her feel awkward and very self-conscious when it came time to be naked in the presence of her lovers. That was until a few years ago; while still an intern at her present place of employment, she had met an older, very experienced lesbian woman (a client) who had shown her that c-cup and plus sizes were an asset once you knew how to work with them, not around. Her hands wanted to reach down now and stroke them but she knew better. Her breast could easily reach her mouth and on many solitary occasions she had indulged in sucking her own nipples, enhancing the pleasure of her masturbatory antics.
Richelle loved women, especially those who knew how to handle breasts like the ones she possessed. The sensual feeling of making love to another woman and having the same thing done to her, could keep her happy forever. Sometimes she felt flattered by the attention she got from men but usually she was just amused; there was absolutely no place in her heart or life for them. She had never met a guy whom she felt attracted to and on many occasions had found herself politely declining offers of sexual favours. To be truthful she had never even seen a grown man naked, not live of course, only in videos. She kept a small collection of DVDs in a bin under her bed, most of them were lesbian porn but she possessed a few exhibiting heterosexual intercourse. She particularly favoured those that featured monstrous cocks threatening to split in half, the cunts of petite women. That was just how she preferred to be fucked; a thick rubber or plastic dildo stretching her tight pussy, bringing her over that proverbial edge. She especially loved the way her muscular vaginal walls contracted around and clung to a lover's toy or fingers, as a powerful orgasm rushed over her body, at the heights of ecstasy.
Gradually she was becoming more aroused and could feel her pussy tingling so she drove those explicit thoughts out of her mind and returned to concentrating on her novel once more.
Whoosh! An object came flying over her head startling her and she looked into the pool where a multicoloured Frisbee was floating on the surface of the water. She got up, grabbed the small net she used to remove dead leaves and fished the object out of the water. She then reassumed her position on the lounge chair to wait for her sexy new neighbour to come and retrieve her toy.
Richelle could still remember that Friday afternoon, three weeks ago when the other woman had moved in. She was sitting on her front porch swing, typing away on her laptop when several moving vans pulled up, followed by a black Infiniti SUV, which pulled up alongside the house next door, and a beautiful red head stepped out. She noted instantly how much her hair colour was complimented by the sky. It was dusk and the sun was just setting; its orange red hue blazing across the sky dimly. The woman was gorgeous; tall and slim she had to be over 5' 9" with sparkling blue-grey eyes. Her thin lips were pursed thoughtfully as she directed the men in the placing of the furniture and household items.
The previous owners had been a middle aged couple and good friends of Richelle but she was glad when they told her they were selling. The man was a retired electrical engineer and their yard was littered with spare parts of old televisions, air conditioning units and everything else electrical. She knew that the new owner was Mr. Donovan's niece but that was all the information they had been willing to divulge. Knowing fully that neither Mrs. Donovan nor her husband was exceptionally good looking; they were both mildly average in attraction and overweight, she was of course completely surprised by the magnificent beauty presented to her.
She watched on for several hours as everything was unpacked and the various vans drove away. For sometime she wondered whether or not the woman would come over and say hello but when she did not Richelle simply went indoors. She did not forget her though and over the next few days she could hear her rummaging around the house and yard as a mountain of boxes piled up outside. It wasn't until some days later that she actually saw her in person, again and then she discovered one more thing about the red head; it turned out she was a nurse.
On the following Monday morning, Richelle was on her way to work and in the process of adjusting her rear-view mirror when she looked up and saw the red head standing on her front step in a nurses' uniform, her hair combed back tightly in a bun, highlighting her facial features. She was taken aback by the woman's radiant beauty; she looked like one of those dressed up nurses you would see in sleazy porno videos, her b-cup breasts stood out pert and firm across her chest. She fixed the hat on her head, briefly observing her surrounding before locking her front door; the other woman could easily have been a model the way she carried herself as she languidly strode to her car and Richelle waited until after she had driven off to make her own way to work.
