Sometimes life just isn't fair. You try to do everything within your control to be good, decent, kind and moral, and yet the darker side of things can still slip between the cracks of your well-practiced defenses.
Such it was this past summer. Even as the Christmas season has come and gone, I am still haunted by the far reaching shadows cast by the events that unfolded during an intense two week period in July. A perfect storm of lust, opportunity and forbidden fruit germinated in my own backyard. Under my watch.
Michael, my husband, has established a wonderful friendship with our neighbor, Brian. To say they are close friends would be an understatement. I find their bond wonderful. But, when I suspected that Brian was something other than just the friendly neighbor, I was paralyzed. I did not want to do anything to disrupt that relationship between him and Michael.
Brian is married, although he and his wife have a strained relationship as she spends a lot of time on the road as a high-powered sales executive. It is not uncommon for him to spend more time at our home than his. So he is more like a brother to Michael than a buddy.
Brian has a roving eye. Over the years, I have begrudgingly accepted how he never seems to miss an opportunity to allow his eyes to slither over my body. Michael shrugs it off asserting that every guy does it and that I am a sexy woman who deserves a second look. His mix of resignation and affirmation has always served to settle me down enough to tolerate the uncomfortable reality.
But this summer, things changed. My sister was having serious problems with her daughter. Amanda had graduated from high school two years earlier, but was still living at home with no clear direction. There was a lot of friction between Amanda and her stepdad, my sister's new husband.
Amanda is a doll; a former homecoming queen and as cute as a button. She had found early success in her teen years as a model. But when her parents went through a messy divorce when she was 18, she became a recluse. She had always been a "daddy's girl", so when her dad split and left for Europe, she was devastated.
She was now approaching 21 years old, yet had no real direction. She had dropped out of Junior College and had a spotty employment record bouncing from one part-time, fast food job to the next.
So, when my sister asked if Amanda could spend a month or so with us to clear her mind and get healthy, not to mention get a sense of direction, I was hesitant to say yes. But, after Michael and I discussed it, we felt that it was the right thing to do. So we took her in with a vague agreement for a month or two.
Her first week was quiet and cooperative. She was compliant for the most part. Michael had her work from home on some basic data entry tasks for his company that kept her busy and gave her a sense of purpose.
Soon she developed a routine of working at the computer each morning, followed by long afternoon breaks laying out by the pool in the backyard.
Most mornings she would arrive at the breakfast table, draped in a tee and shorts which delicately framed her fresh, young body. Michael did his best to pretend he didn't notice, but of course he did.
Her blonde hair and blue eyes are authentic, but her body is the vision that captivates the eyes. She stands 5'7" with long legs. Her curves are accentuated by 36d breasts that almost seem to defy the need for a bra.
Since she was only in the privacy of our backyard, Amanda felt free to wear a specific bikini that she said was here "home alone" suit. Barely veiled by sheer white fabric rationed to proportions that would be challenged to veil two quarters and peach, she was quite a sight.
Brian soon noticed her. Frequently. Every afternoon.
As she laid poolside or voluptuously floated in the pool, he would stand in his backyard discreetly eyeing her. It was one thing to have his eyes crawling over my body, but quite a different issue to sense his lust dripping over Amanda's body. That she was low-hanging, ripe fruit that was pleasant to the eyes was obvious, but I cared not about that. She is my niece. My maternal instincts were instantly challenged.
I began to make it my business to appear busy in the backyard whenever she went out. My garden and flowerbeds suddenly became points of interest to me, serving me a plausible reason for my presence to disguise my true intentions; keeping Brian from debasing my niece.
One day as I pawed at the ground pulling weeds and Amanda floated on a raft in the pool, I heard the disguised shuffles of Brian's steps on the other side of the fence. I turned to see what he might see. There she was, sun blazing on her glistening body, as she laid on a bright orange raft drifting on the surface of the pool. Her breasts were alive. The patches of fabric were centered over her nipples, but did nothing to veil the lower and side curves of her breasts. Laying on her back as she did, legs extended in a V-shape that allowed her feet and calves to dangle in the water on either side of the raft, there was an equally arousing view of her inner thighs. The fabric stretched thin across her pussy, leaving no doubt that she was shaved smooth. The wet fabric appeared as a second layer of skin.
That first time I sensed Brian just on the other side of the fence, I was imprisoned by the awkwardness of it all. I did not know what to do or say, if anything. Amanda appeared naïve and unaware, as if she were in her own world.
The next day, as a similar scene unfolded, I could hear the muffled sounds of what sounded like rubbing, accompanied by guarded moans. He was no more than 5 feet away from me, although the well-kept wooden fence between our yards safely separated us. Behind me floated Amanda, earbuds filling her mind with youthful tunes, as the eyes of our neighbor crawled all over her flesh. The mix of the droplets of pool water and sparkling rays of mid afternoon sunshine dotted her skin like seductive pixie dust.
It seemed so wrong. I felt I needed to protect her.
The next day, the routine took shape again. This time, dressed in my own shorts and tank top, I positioned myself in a spot near where I thought he would approach with the intention of confronting him.
I had good intentions. Noble motivations. Protective instincts.
This particular afternoon, Amanda had taken a dive and then immediately stepped out of the pool and laid on a towel on the other side of the pool.
