Laird and Keira had graduated college together and engaged in a whirlwind romance that culminated in an elopement that same August. The impulsive wedding ended up creating difficulties for the young couple and an apparent solution was to decamp from their native Toronto for the opportunities of Kansas City. As fortune would have it the young couple moved in next to me.
Their choice of home proved to be problematic for the young pair as they were faced with the same challenges I'd faced with my own 1915 vintage home. A crumbling foundation, endless dry rot, a failed roof, it all conspired against them and it put a strain on their freshly minted marriage.
Laird would sometimes talk to me about home repairs and then he'd speak about the stress of the house weighing on his relationship with Keira. And then on yet other occasions it would be Keira sitting on my porch and disseminating on much the same topics. She spoke much more than Laird did and I didn't mind so long as the comely young woman would sit on my porch and treat me to viewing her piercing blue eyes, her raven black hair, and her impossibly long legs.
The stress between Laird and Keira came to a head in early December when Laird's dream job laid him off. Naturally, he got drunk on the way home and then got into his car. He ended up in jail for drunk driving and I went with Keira to bail him out the next day.
After we got him out he launched into a tirade against Keira about how everything was her fault. It took some effort but I got him to STFU and get in the car before he got arrested again. On the way home he steamed and Keira silently cried.
I let the two of them go when we got home. Laird stormed off to their house and Keira mouthed a silent 'Thank you' to me as she followed behind.
An hour later I heard Keira yelling at Laird to "STOP!!!" and I ran out of the house in fear for her safety. What I saw was Laird backing her car out of the driveway and then peeling out for the main road.
Keira was bawling. "He's gone! He's going back to Canada and he doesn't want me to go with him!"
I comforted her as best I could and eventually had to see her inside her home for the evening.
It would be nice to tell you that things got better but they didn't. Laird was fortunate enough to get back to Canada before his court date but one of the ramifications of skipping bail meant he could never come back to the USA. Another ramification of skipping bail was when the bail bond company showed up at the house a week later to take possession of the house, the remaining car, and everything in the house save whatever clothes Keira could pack up in less than five minutes.
I happened to be at home as this drama transpired and I was standing on the porch when Keira walked up to me to ask for a place to stay. Seems she had nowhere else to go.
For me this was no great hardship. None at all.
I set her up in my guest room and gave her some peace and quiet while I busied myself with making dinner. She wasn't really in a mood to eat but she managed to out away a plate of tri-tip and potatoes anyway. And then she excused herself and went to bed.
I understood she needed some space and I had no pretensions that she owed me anything for what I was doing.
Over the following months she seemed to get more and more depressed. Laird had filed for divorce in Toronto, the banks were chasing after her for payments on cars and a house she no longer owned, and her problems caused her job at a local utility to let her go. A bankruptcy would be in her future if she could ever afford the legal expenses.
She clung to a fantasy about how things would get better with Laird and how they'd solve the mess of problems that had driven them apart. And reality would occasionally interrupt the fantasy with some cold hard facts and then Keira would cry her eyes out.
I can't say what the turning point was but one Friday I came home from work and noticed Keira had cleaned herself up. Her hair was tied back in a pony tail and she'd been busy cleaning up the house. Dinner was cooking in the kitchen and she was promising me it would be great. It was!
After dinner we sat down to watch the sunset and enjoy a few drinks.
The liquor loosened her tongue and soon she was telling me all sorts of details of her failed marriage. The money problems loomed large in the conversation but she also divulged that she'd wanted to have kids but Laird insisted on using condoms to prevent that from happening. It was just one more disappointment to her that Laird had rejected the idea of having kids with her.
Around eight she excused herself to get ready for bed and I did the same. I doffed my clothes and pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a simple white t-shirt. I wasn't quite ready for bed and I was also thinking about finishing my drink and maybe pouring another so I went back out to the living room. Sitting down on my plush sofa I turned on some pleasant music and sipped at my drink. It was a bit chilly so I grabbed a throw blanket and pulled it over my legs and my lap.
I'd expected Keira to go straight to bed so I was pleasantly surprised when she came back to the living room dressed in one of my old flannel shirts that she'd adopted as a nightshirt and I suspected a pair of panties was hiding under the flannel. I felt my cock swell a bit thinking that her gorgeous young tits were separated from my hands by just a layer of fabric.
The evening chill worked in my favor when Keira pulled up the throw blanket and then tucked her beautiful long legs under it. A bit of adjustment on her part and then her bare feet were in my lap. She held out her empty glass to me and I took it. Reaching for my decanter I poured some of the amber liquid into her glass to fill it before handing the glass back to her.
Our banter soon resumed and she seemed to be pretty happy. Allow me to say she was the happiest I'd seen her since she moved in with me. The mantle clock chimed nine and she upended her glass and held it out to me again. I obliged and did my duty to refill it for her.
It was probably twenty minutes later when I ventured my hand under the blanket and treated myself to gently rubbing her silky soft feet and legs. Keira was talking about some artist she was following on Instagram and didn't seem to care about what both of my hands were now doing.
I drifted a hand to her thigh and finally she said something, "That feels nice."
Her glass was empty again but this time she simply put it down.
"Would you mind if I kissed you?" I asked.
She shook her head and replied, "No."
I leaned towards her and put my arms around her to pull her close. I looked in her eyes for a moment and then gave her a very chaste first kiss before letting her pull away.
"I don't know if we should be doing this." she said. Her words were a bit slurred from the effects of the drinks.
I pulled her close again and squelched her protest with a much deeper kiss. She didn't try to push me away so I just started to get into it. She didn't seem to notice or care when I slipped a hand under her flannel shirt to feel her bare back. She did stop me when I moved to take off her shirt so I went a different direction.
Running my hand up and down her leg I soon ran up her legs to her panties. I gave her a tentative touch towards her pussy and she didn't react. I took that as permission to move ahead and I wasn't disappointed when she spread her legs just enough to let me probe her moist nether region.
She winced a little when I inserted a finger inside of her body but then she relaxed as I started to minister to her need. I heard her sigh in my ear as I found the right rhythm. Another finger joined the first and Keira started gently heaving her hips in response to my efforts.
I had one hand busy in her panties so that meant the other hand was busy unbuttoning the old flannel shirt. She brushed my hand away from the buttons a couple times but over the course of a few minutes I'd managed to open her top.
