Maybel-Line

It's funny, how as a kid you tend to see things so totally different from the reality in which they are. Only when you're confronted with those same memories years later do you really understand the misconceptions we all place on them.

It was how I remembered Mabel, though back then as a kid, we all teasingly called her, Maybelline.

Growing up right next door as a child, I very often made a little extra money back then doing odd jobs such as pulling weeds or mowing the lawn for Mabel and her husband, "Old man Jack" as we had likewise labeled him. There was no denying the fact that he was in fact older than she was herself back then, though "old" to us was anyone over the age of thirty. So his label was in fact somewhat appropriate even for the times as Jack was easily in his forty's back then, and Mabel, or Maybelline was at the most in her early twenties.

Now as kids, the reason we called her Maybelline had a little bit to do with the makeup she wore, so it was an easy reflection of her as a person, along with her character. She did tend to wear a lot of makeup back then, or at least as I remember she did anyway. I remember that she always seemed to have darker than normal eyes, more so than anyone else did who lived around there at the time. Long lashes in addition, certainly fake as that was very much in style too, and always the same shade of bright red lipstick, that for some goofy reason, made my own parents cast doubt on her as being something they called, "A loose woman".

I always wondered about that back then, never quite understanding what it was they meant, making the mistake of asking my parents once what it did mean, and getting sent off to my room for it. I never asked them about stuff like that ever again.

There was another major thing about her too though, that I tended to notice a great deal of, perhaps even more so than her dark almost coal black hair that she wore piled up on top of her head most of the time, not to mention all the makeup. But that was...she had fairly large breasts. Hell, not fairly...they were, plain and simply. But again, I think looking back I tended to equate her memory with Dolly Parton for some reason, who at the time was very popular around the area I was growing up in. I think to some extent, that Maybelline, actually copied her look, which was again another subtle reminder, at least of her memory anyway, now looking back.

Even now I find myself smiling, looking back at my very first weeding lesson. Standing there in Mabel's garden while she proceeded to show me, which plants were just that, and which ones were actually weeds. I stood paying close attention, though not so much to the weeds as to her boobs.

Stooping over so she could pull a few herself, showing me how she wanted me to do it and be careful so as not to accidentally pull out the actual flowers, I couldn't help but gaze down the front of her open blouse. I remember clearly the stark contrast of her bronzed skin from hours of sun tanning, or simply working out in the yard in skimpy halter tops, or what was back then not quite a bikini top, more like a permissible bra that could be worn outside. Though even that my mother frowned upon whenever she saw our neighbor dressed like that. Dad didn't frown much however, he mostly smiled in fact, and spent and inordinate amount of time looking out the kitchen window, as long as mom wasn't around shooing him away, usually asking him if he didn't have better things he could be doing as opposed to watching the neighbor flaunt her breasts.

I guess there is some truth to the saying, "boys will be boys", though I know with some degree of certainty, dad wouldn't have been able to stand there the way I was, and get away with looking down her blouse the way I was either. And funny too. Even doing that, all I really saw was a bit more well rounded, not so tanned pink flesh that hinted at what was still covered. I never once saw her nipples or anything even close to that whenever I did get a chance to take a peek without her being aware that I had.

I guess, it was just knowing that they were there, and that I was inches, or fractions of an inch from actually seeing them. Maybe back then, for a young boy growing up, just coming into his early sexuality, it was enough.

Another thing they always used to say, was that things happen in threes. That was certainly the case for me.

After graduating from high school, I immediately left to do a stint in the Army. As it happened, I was but a few short weeks away from getting out when I was called home on emergency leave. Rather than waste a lot of unnecessary time, I was given an early honorable discharge, so went home a civilian as opposed to still being in the service. The bad news was, I went home to bury my parents who'd been killed in an automobile accident. I'd been home less than a month after that, still trying to sort things out, collect myself, when Mabel's husband Jack died from liver disease, no doubt brought on from all the booze he'd been drinking over the years.

That set the stage for what became a very interesting period for me. And a renewal of unexpected circumstance, with Maybelline.

**

Now, oddly enough, I didn't even see Mabel once during the month after my parent's death. She had herself taken her husband out of state to a hospital that was much closer to where he'd grown up as a kid himself. She spent most of her time living and staying with his sister while he lay dying in the hospital. So it was no surprise that she didn't come to my parent's funeral, though even if she'd been home at the time, I'd have been surprised to see her even then. I mean it wasn't like they were close neighbors or anything, and certainly not friends. And I was sad to hear her own husband had passed away, hearing it from one of the other neighbors who'd been looking after her place while she was gone.

The day she came back home, I made a point of going over to see her, give her my condolences, and for no other reason, just to say hello.

Like I said, it's funny how you remember things, and thus continue to perceive them to be. It was that image of "Maybelline" in my mind when I went over to her place later on that late afternoon when I knew upon seeing her car in the drive, that she'd returned home again.

A bit nervous, and not sure exactly what I was going to say to her beyond "I'm sorry for your loss," I knocked on her door waiting patiently. The fact it took her a while to even answer the door should have told me she was busy doing other things, and that now perhaps wasn't the best time for me to show up and pay a courtesy call. In fact, I even stepped down off the step intending to return home again when I heard her fumble with the lock on the door. The security chain was still engaged when she opened it, peering out towards me.

"Yes? Can I help you?" She asked.

I guess I should have realized I'd changed a little myself too. My own light brown hair was still short, far shorter than she'd ever seen me wear it of course for one. And secondly, I had actually grown another inch or two, not to mention putting on some weight, bulking up a bit. The twenty-two year old she now stood there looking at was a far cry from the skinny, somewhat shorter, much longer haired teenage kid I had been the last time I had seen her, let alone spoken to her.

"Hi...Mabel? It's me, Steven."

Even then it didn't register for a moment, though her eyes suddenly grew wide as she realized who I was. She confused me further by suddenly closing the door, though it immediately opened again as she disengaged the security chain.

"Oh my god! Steven! Come in! Come in! How've you been anyway?" She asked, though her tone quickly softened from one of excitement to one of sudden realization as she only then remembered what had most recently happened to me too. "I'm so sorry...about your parents," she then said stepping back into the room inviting me in.

"I'm sorry about..." I was staring, pausing momentarily before finishing my sentence, "your husband," I said stepping the rest of the way in. It was then that I realized I'd just caught her only moments perhaps from stepping into the shower. She hadn't even bothered to throw a robe on. All she had on was a simple bath towel that barely even covered her as it was. Now I was surprised she hadn't asked me to come back later even knowing who I was now. But she hadn't, inviting me to sit down in her living room instead as she took a seat across from me, curling up in the chair, tucking her legs beneath her as she did, though careful about revealing too much of herself.

"Thank you," she said. "Yeah, though it wasn't a big surprise, not like the loss of your parents, I knew this was coming for quite some time now, so I had a little while to get used to the idea, unlike yourself. How are you holding up anyway?"

I was actually doing pretty well, and told her so. I still had a lot of decisions to make, like what I was going to do with the house, live in it myself, or sell it and find another less expensive place to live in. There was still a lot of paperwork to sift through as well, so it wasn't all going to happen overnight either. I had a lot of work ahead of me, but at least I wasn't in any real rush to get there. But I wasn't in any rush to leave anytime soon either. Sitting there, I had flash backs to the days where I used to stand there trying to peek down her blouse, only now, sitting across from her the way I was, I was peeking at something else entirely. A new scene suddenly coming to mind, one of Sharon Stone sitting in the police station for one.

"Listen, I know I caught you at a bad time," I told her intending to leave. "We can always catch up again later."

She smiled at that, once again swinging her legs out from beneath her back to the floor, giving me the brief paused peek between her legs that Sharon had so mischievously given Michael Douglas.

"I'd like that...a lot. Perhaps you might feel like coming over for dinner later or something so we can really catch up on one another's lives?" she asked.

"I'd like that, but you just got home yourself, the last thing you want to do is worry about fixing dinner. How about we go out?"

The moment I said that however, I realized I didn't have a car. It was the number one item on my "things to do list", which I hadn't really had the time to look into yet. With mom and dad's car being totaled in the accident, I was currently without any wheels.

I chuckled nervously, realizing my stupidity, adding. "Ok if we take your car though? I'm currently without any wheels."

Now it was her turn to laugh. "As long as you don't mind driving with the top down," she told me. Something's wrong with my being able to put it up again, and I haven't had the time nor the inclination to have it looked at yet."

It was a classy little car, an older model Camero, that wasn't perhaps in the best shape, but it still looked cool, and the only car she'd ever had as far as I knew. I even told her I'd look at it myself as soon as I had time, but in the meantime, driving with the top down was just fine with me.

"You like Italian?" she asked.

I did, it was one of my favorite foods.

"Good, there's a nice little Italian restaurant just up the canyon, been years since I was there last, always wanted to go there again. You mind if drive up there to eat?" She asked.

I knew where it was, though I'd honestly never eaten there myself. "It's a date, pick you up around eight? Eight thirty?" I asked. "Do we need to call and make reservations?"

"A date huh?" she smiled winking at me. "What will the neighbors think?

"Fuck the neighbors!" I said without even realizing I'd just used the "F" word. Blame that on my recent stint in the Army where for most of the guys I'd been in the service with, the word fuck was used about every third word.

She laughed upon hearing me say that, now standing, though trying very hard to keep the towel from tumbling away from herself. It had in fact parted behind her, one hand now holding it against her large breasts, the other somehow reaching around behind in an effort to keep it closed.

I guess my confused expression told her I'd missed whatever joke I'd just made.

Once upon a time, I think your parents along with a lot of other folks around here thought I was doing just that...fucking the neighbors!" She said, now alerting me to what I'd just said, still laughing about it, though I now joined her, somewhat sheepishly in doing so.

"Well, not me...I never did," I told her.

"No...you were always too busy peering down my blouse to think about things like that," she now added.

Once again, my expression said it all, my face suddenly growing beet red.

"You ah...you ah knew that huh?"

Once again she burst out laughing. "Oh yeah, I did, and maybe I shouldn't say this, but whenever you did, there was a fairly noticeable indication that you were that you quite often didn't do well at concealing, so then I knew for sure you had been."

"Sorry about that," I said apologizing for my teenage hormones.

"Oh don't be. To be honest, I found it very flattering, and had you been older, and had I not been so worried about NOT fucking the neighbors, I might have even considered it."

Once again we both laughed, reminding one another about the time for our "date", and then I turned finally prepared to leave. She didn't follow me back to the door, now standing at the foot of the stairs instead.

"See you in a few hours then," I stated reaching for the door, opening it and then turning. I watched as she just then removed her towel completely, throwing it over her shoulder as she slowly began ascending the stairs. She looked back sort of sideways towards me, smiling even broader now than she had.

"Make it nine," she told me. "I want to make myself look pretty...for our date."

After I had actually stepped outside closing the door, I'd come up with the line, "You couldn't look any prettier than you do now," But by then of course, it was too late, and I'd stepped outside, nearly tripping over my tongue as it was. I in fact missed the first step, nearly falling on my face. It would have been ironic for me to have broken my arm, or leg or something, and spend the night in a hospital, as opposed to sitting with Mabel inside some cozy, darkened little Italian restaurant. Still...I wish I'd said something as opposed to just stepping out and closing the door after she'd said that.

I then ran across the yard back to my own place, careful so as not to trip over anything and still break my leg after all that. Luckily, the gods and fate were with me, as I made it inside safely enough, but the "woody" I was now sporting, would have to be dealt with, long before dinner, or I'd be just like that teenage kid all over again, standing in her garden.

It was way early, barely past five o'clock as I stepped into the shower readying myself for our friendly, neighborly date. With plenty of time on my hands, amongst other things, I actually lay down in the tub, letting the warm shower caress me, much like her hands might as I allowed myself to slip off into fantasyland. The difference now being...I had something substantially more to feed those fantasies and thoughts than I'd ever had. I had actually...finally, for the first time ever, seen her boobs. And not only that, I'd seen a lot of other things too, and they all added up in my book, as someone totally different than the Maybelline I once knew as a kid.

Times had indeed changed. She probably still wore a lot more makeup that most other women her age did, but it looked good on her, at least in my own opinion. Her hair was still dark too, or reasonably so anyway, though she had changed her hairstyle, letting it fall free just past her shoulders. I had noticed a few wisps of grey peeking out here and there as she sat there talking to me in addition to that. I knew that was due to a lot of emotional stress in her life, especially lately. She certainly was by no means at an age where she should be turning prematurely grey already, but it had started. And she had changed her color of lipstick too, unless she wasn't even wearing any, which I supposed was a possibility. Her lips were more natural in color, still more thick than thin, but not nearly as much so as I remembered them being. I actually sat there in the tub, a vision of my lips kissing hers, though I quickly added the image of her hand wrapped around my cock as she did that, just to change the rating on my fantasy from PG to R at least.

It wasn't long after that, that I treated myself to a nice hard orgasm there in the shower.

I had no misconception about this dinner going anywhere either. The fact she had let me see her naked, was more of an old flirtatious tease than promise the way I saw it at the time, though I was certainly open to more than that if the situation should arise. But going in, I held those thoughts in check.

After getting out of the shower and dressing, I then called to make reservations, though told they weren't necessary, though taking them anyway. I then sat around for the next two hours just waiting for time to pass.

I knocked on her door precisely at nine o'clock. She met me coming out with her keys in hand, handing them to me. It was still muggy outside. She had worn a simple white peasant blouse just off the shoulder, along with a somewhat modest skirt, though it was red. Mom would have called them "slutty clothes", especially seeing them on Mabel, but I thought she looked magnificent, and told her so. Her long dark hair remained full, and free about her head and shoulders, an entirely new look from the one I remembered, and it looked damn good on her. She looked ten years younger at the least than she even was then.

The drive up to the restaurant took less than thirty minutes. We were soon ushered over to a small, but intimate little table next to the front window. It would have been the perfect setting for a romantic, intimate little dinner together. But that's not what we were there for, at least as it turned out. As we ate, Mabel somehow got the conversation always directed at me, with me basically telling her everything I had done since leaving high school and joining the service. Trying to get her to talk about herself was like pulling teeth. Mostly, it was more about me, the girls I had known or dated, though we even then didn't discuss anything too intimate or embarrassing. Not that I had a lot of experience, I didn't. I had in fact only lost my virginity a little over a year ago. And had only had intercourse perhaps a half a dozen times since then, and mostly with only the second girl I'd ever been with after that. It had been months now, since I had.

One thing I did enjoy, and once again went back to my time in her garden in doing, was taking the occasional peek at her breasts as we sat there talking, laughing, and reminiscing about past days together. Though wearing a bra, it was a lacy one, and as she moved, it periodically shifted, just enough to occasionally give me glimpses of what I now knew to be her very dark nipples peeking through. This was far more of course than I'd even seen as a kid. And though it certainly wasn't low cut, her well-rounded breasts were sculpted clearly, and held up firmly by that sexy lacy bra she was wearing.

It was the first strike of lightning, followed by a clap of thunder coming outside that alerted us we were about to get rained on. Which is when we of course both realized, we couldn't put the top up!

We dashed outside, the intent to try and outdrive the storm before it really hit. So far just a few raindrops seemed to be reaching us, nothing too significant. Unfortunately, all that was about to change.

We had made it about halfway down the canyon when the rain really started coming down. I knew then if we didn't find some sort of cover soon, we'd both be drenched. But it was basically too little too late even then when I found a small side road heading into the trees off the road. I took it, parking the car beneath a canopy of tall fir and pine trees. We were still getting a little wet even then, but not nearly as much as we would have should we have continued on.