Kathy's Friendly Neighbor
I'd gotten so used to the old neighbor's schedule that I didn't even think as I took off my bikini top to lay back in the sun next to my pool in the warm May sunshine of Southern California. My husband, Mark, was off on a business trip for three days and I hoped to be a few shades darker from my pale winter white when he got back. I popped in my headphones and picked up my kindle to get started in on a new book while I listened to music.
Every winter we talked about replacing the short four foot fence between us and our neighbor's house, and every spring we put it off. The old neighbors both worked, and so were never around in the afternoons when I liked to lay out topless. The fence was just high enough to block the view to the hot tub, for those nights when Mark and I liked to get a bit naughty outside. If they'd ever seen us, they'd never acted like it.
The old neighbors moved out last February, with the new neighbors coming in just last month. Hank and Mindy, I think? They were older, fifties or sixties, definitely outside of Mark and my circle. We are both 37.
We'd seen a younger man, late teens or early twenties, around the house a couple of times. We assumed he was their son, but he didn't live there, just came by with a big sack of laundry once a week or so.
Through the music on my headphones, I heard a gate open and all of these thoughts tried to wind their way into my consciousness. By the time they did and I put down the book to grab my top, he was standing directly across the fence from me, turning his head in embarrassment and saying something that I couldn't hear.
I moved an arm across my chest while my other hand plucked the earphones from my head.
"Sorry, mam, I didn't see anything," he said, his back now too me. "I didn't... I wasn't..."
"It's fine," I replied back. "No harm done."
It was kind of cute how embarrassed he was, but I was also surprised how much I hadn't cared that he'd seen me. I'm still in great shape, 130 lbs on a five ten frame with full D breasts that held their shape even out of a bra. Oh sure they didn't stand up completely on their own anymore, I wasn't 19 after all, but I'd put them up against a fellow thirty something any day.
"We keep meaning to replace the fence but never get around to it. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not have to cover up, so I promise not to get upset if you accidentally catch a glance or two if you promise not to stare. Deal?"
"Uhm, uhh, sure mam."
"And you also promise to never call me mam again. I'm Kathy."
He started to turn around again, saw that I still had my arm covering my nipples, relaxed and finally said, "I'm Hank and Mindy's kid. Miles. I don't have classes Thursday's so I come up here to help them out and do my laundry."
"Nice to meet you Miles, where do you go to school?"
"C-SUN. I'm in the freshman dorms."
"I remember those days," I replied and lay back down on the lounger, removing my arm to put my headphones back in and go back to my book. Miles quickly turned his gaze again and then went about his business.
He was a good looking young man, probably about my height. The black tank top he wore showed off his tightly muscled arms and torso. His dark, curly hair was closely cropped. For the first half hour he carefully kept his back turned to me while he worked in the back yard and changed out loads of laundry.
Eventually he relaxed, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him look this way more than once, but true to his word he never stopped to stare. Eventually he finished with the gardening and went over to the heavy bag hanging on the wooden lattice, removed his shirt and began a workout with his back to me.
I heard the punches and rhythmic beat of his fists slamming into the bag go on for quite a while. Once again he kept his back turned towards me, and I was glad he did, as he could have accused me of staring otherwise.
I'd turned around to watch him at some point and it had probably been a good couple of minutes since I'd last looked at my book. I could clearly see the muscles in his back working hard, his legs taught underneath him, sweat dripping down his ebony skin. He reminded me of a boyfriend I'd had at Cal my sophomore year with a senior on the football team. A 2nd string wide receiver, I think, or maybe a saftey. We'd hooked up at Homecoming and that led to four months of nearly constant fights and mind blowing sex before he moved on.
I went back to my reading and when he finally stopped, I removed my headphones again and called over to him, "Would you like some iced tea? I've got some chilling in the fridge."
His breathing was rapid but not labored, and he called back, "I'd love some. Thanks, ma... Thanks Kathy."