On a cloudless cool morning last spring, I had an opportunity to see my new neighbors for the first time. They were a couple in their late thirties who bought the duplex next door to me. I greeted them as they supervised the movers. The wife appeared frazzled and said little, but her husband was a bit friendlier.
In the months that followed, I gradually got to know, Jim, the husband. We'd talk in the garage occasionally and I also saw him by the pool on the weekends. The wife's name was Elizabeth and she always had the appearance of being in a hurry. Unlike the stereotype, she was a blonde who happened to be aging quite well. I had a chance to study her a little during the summer as I sat by the water with a book in my lap and shades upon my head. She was fully aware of how lucky she was to look so healthy, and only exposed her skin to the sun after first pouring ounces of sun block all over her body. Elizabeth would then spend a few minutes making sure that all the whiteness from the lotion disappeared by rubbing it into her skin. She did this with circular hand motions. Watching her polish her thighs and stomach began to interest me intensely, so, to keep from being detected, I made sure to turn my face a little bit to the left so my sunglasses would hide my gaze.
Her hair was the first thing that you noticed about her. It was full and golden, long and feminine. She occasionally whisked it to the side when it got too hot. I guess you might qualify her overall appearance as being "high maintenance." Her face was never without makeup and, even when she walked to the curb, was always well-dressed.
When I gazed downwards, I immediately took in the luscious curves and sexiness of her body. How I did not notice them earlier I cannot say. Her bathing suit was not particularly risqué. It was nothing like the wildness one sees at the beach. Hers was brimming with highly ornate fabric; a two piece with buckles and loops and navy blue. It clung to her shoulders and dipped down between her breasts before meeting in the center of her ribcage. I peered into her chest and was entranced by the sharpness of her cleavage. The oil from the lotion mixed with sweat and tan skin to make her breasts look perfect. I wanted to go over there and swish them around in my mouth for a couple of days. If it wasn't for prison I would have. As for the rest, her stomach was soft and plush. That was the tannest part of her body. Unfortunately, the dark color of her suit prevented me from seeing her hips more clearly, but I recognized that she had no cellulite on her legs. They were pushed slightly apart and I looked into the center of them wishing that I had X ray glasses. It was then, in the midst of my fascination, that I tilted my head up to find that Elizabeth was staring right at me. The direction was unmistakable. It was at me. Her glasses were on her head and she could have been looking at nothing else.
I lifted my book up higher and pretended that I had stumbled across a really intriguing passage. For the next thirty minutes, to compensate for my being seriously caught, I did not raise my eyes once. Then, suddenly, she came strolling by on her way out. I lifted my head and said, "Sun too much for you?"
Elizabeth ignored my comment. She said, "Did you like what you were looking at?"
"Ahh, yeah," was all I got out.
She said nothing else but walked out the gate towards her place. After that, whenever I ran into her I made a point of trying to say something conversational but she rarely said much back. I stopped thinking of her as being sexy because of the lack of interest she showed.
By the end of September, I realized that I had not seem Jim in several weeks. When I caught sight of her in the back of the laundry room on a Sunday morning and said hello. She confirmed that I hadn't been imagining her husband's absence. He had been transferred down to Alabama to work at one of his company's plants until December. He planned on flying back every other weekend to visit. Then she surprised me, "That's why I need you for something."
I was captivated. "What? What can I do for you?"
"You know how I have that public speaking business, right?"
"No."
"Well, that's what I do for work. I demonstrate to people how to speak in public, but, usually, when not presenting, I'm home running my website and sending packages out in the mail, which is what I'm doing today. I have a couple of different product lines. Anyway, since you're here, would you mind going up to my place and carrying the 14 or so boxes out to the car?"
"Sure," I said. I recognized her approach. The old "my hubby's away, do some manual labor for me" angle. I knew it well. Most women I knew played it. Often it began with, "You're so big and strong, Jimmy…"
I followed behind her on the way up the stairs and enjoyed the succulent view. She was wearing a pair of tights that are all the rage nowadays. They fit a woman's legs stupendously and have a red vertical tag on the back. I have no idea what the brand name is. I watched her little butt go up the stairs and wanted to clench my teeth around her firm cheeks. Had she been single, I would have taken advantage of the possible interest behind her invitation, and also our privacy, by asking her out, but, as she was married, it was a non-issue. I could fantasize but never touch, which was fine with me, besides it adds to one's longevity not to mess around with married women.
She pointed in the direction of the boxes which she had stacked out front with destination tags stamped on each one. Elizabeth had no large container with which to place them in so I ended up making three awkward trips out to her SUV. When I was finished, she said, "Thank you so much. Can you come back Tuesday? I'll have another shipment then."
"Sure, as long as it's after work hours. I don't get back until 6 on the weekdays."
"Um, can you make it Monday then?"
"Absolutely."
I appeared on her threshold wearing a shirt and tie.
She unswung the door and appeared not to know who I was. "Wow, no Jimmy Buffet today? You look like a normal person."
I nodded.
"Okay, they're over there."
This time she had only about 10 of them and I was done in five minutes. I walked back up, and announced that everything was packed. Elizabeth called out from a room in back for me to wait a minute and then she'd be right out.
I looked around the front room. The living room had become a hybrid e-commerce office. She had about twelve plastic file boxes brimming with papers and in the corner she had tons of demos, tapes, and booklets which made up the packages she sent out. By the back wall, she had a large desk with a very new looking Gateway. Around it were six speakers, a web cam, a giant laser printer, a scanner, and just about everything else in their country shop catalogue.
The screensaver was up on the computer and it was a photo still taken from the couple's wedding. They appeared quite happy and were about to step into a stretch Lincoln. I turned around. No sign of her. I flicked the mouse and thought I'd check out the weather at acuweather. When the windows became clear, there were about five little boxes set above the template of a chat room. They each represented a separate conversation that she was having. In each, one name, "Princess Lay You", was a character. I took this to be her. The home site was Literotica, and a quick glance showed me that Princess Lay You was quite ambitious. She simultaneously was having conversations with five guys at once. The subject of their discussions was beyond a NC-17 rating. She was telling one of the guys about how much she loved anal, while another concerned her desire to fuck around on the side--with a bunch of dudes. I was just getting to what looked to be a S&M box when she startled me by tapping my shoulder and saying, "What are you doing?"
I turned around and tried to answer her seriously. "I wanted to check the weather." That was true, but before I could say anything else I started giggling. "That was absolutely wild," I said. "You little minx. You really don't look like the type of lady who'd be on a jack-off website."
She eyed me coolly. "Well-"
I cut her off realizing that she was probably extremely embarrassed and that she wasn't one of my friends who could take the ribbing. "Look, it's none of my business. I'm really sorry I violated your privacy. I didn't mean to."
Elizabeth said nothing for a moment. "Okay, I know you talk to my husband and, just in case you open your big mouth-"
"I won't."
She ignored me. "Just in case you open your big mouth about it. Here are the facts. I have never and would never ever cheat on my husband."
