This is a lengthy story covering many different subjects. Be warned that some fetish concepts are explored.
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When Mr. Caruso next door unexpectedly passed away, I attended the funeral along with my parents. I think that the entire neighborhood turned out. The Carusos were popular, friendly people and his sudden passing shook everyone. It happened in April, and after I returned home from graduating college I noticed a lot more of the neighborhood people out doing physical activity. Whether it was a coincidence or because Mr. C's death was linked to a bad heart compounded by no physical activity is debatable.
I was home for the summer. Through good networking and wise internships, I was among the "lucky" ones who graduated college and moved directly into a full time salaried position in my chosen field of study. My parents and I had gone through some long talks over Christmas break and then in the spring. The story boiled down to this: over the years they had saved well over two hundred thousand dollars to go towards my education. But I landed a full ride scholarship to play baseball. They held onto that money just in case I washed out.
I didn't but I also wasn't anywhere near good enough an outfielder and hitter to even get a call to hit the minors. I was okay with that; I had grown tired of baseball. My team did make it into the second round of the playoffs this year, and that was exciting, but when I walked off the field for the last time, I announced that I was hanging up my cleats for good. Besides, I had a good-paying job waiting for me.
The upshot of all this was that my parents chose to take the money that they had saved and splurge on a two-month vacation traveling at their leisure in Europe. They wanted to experience life in the old country, they said, and that just wasn't possible when hopping from hotel to hotel, city to city. They were going to spend a week in Rome, for example, just because they could.
As my older sister was already married and had a little girl - and lived about six hours away by car - she and her husband were not able to watch the house. A compromise was struck. I would live in the house for the duration of the summer to watch it and take care of it, and when they returned home I would move out into an apartment of my choosing. It was a good solution for everyone. I got free room and board for the summer; they had someone watching the house.
I got home Friday night after my first true week of "work." It was a hot, sultry night, the kind more associated with mid-July rather than mid-June. It was close to eight-thirty and I was just getting home. We newbies at work headed to a Friday happy hour to celebrate our first week of work, and of course our first paychecks. There was jubilation, of course, but an equal amount of grousing. Earning money meant the damn student loans had to start being paid.
I wasn't drunk when I got home, but maybe - if pressed - I'd admit to perhaps having one drink too many. It was kind of strange walking into the house in which I'd lived my entire life but having it devoid of people and noise. My mom was a busybody - she would have attacked me to get the skinny on my first days on the job. My dad would have looked fondly over at me, and would wait for my mom's onslaught to end before his would begin. I admitted that I would miss that, a little bit. Coming into the dim, empty home was not as rewarding as I would have thought it would be.
We have an in-ground pool. Nearly everyone on the block does. I debated whether to start texting friends to come by, but the more I thought about it the more I wanted to relax in some solitude. I grabbed my phone, a speaker and my trunks and went out to the pool. After turning on some tunes I dove it, swam around a bit, and then hauled myself up onto a float. I laid back and felt a really, really nice sense of calm. And a little bit of pride.
I must have fallen to sleep, because the next thing I knew I was shivering cold and the clear night sky was out. I rolled off the float and swam to the edge and hauled myself out. A light on in Mrs. C's house drew my eye, and I did not expect to see anything. But then the lady herself walked to the window and drew the curtains closed.
It took all of maybe four seconds. It doesn't take much to etch a visual into memory, though. Mrs. C was, among all of my friends, the queen MILF of our neighborhood. Even her size didn't matter to me or my friends. She was a statuesque goddess of a woman, standing easily six-foot. Her body was a study in feminine curves. The booming chest, the narrow waist, the booming hips and butt, and the sturdy, thick legs supporting that substantial torso. She was also very pretty, not quite gorgeous, but I'd seen her once or twice made up and ready to go out. Her not-made-up look was pretty and made up she was smashing.
I had not planned on staring up at her window, just as I'm sure she had not planned on having me standing there toweling off from the nighttime swim. And maybe she didn't see me because I'd left all of the lights off. In any event she drew the curtains closed and was at least bare-chested. I looked upon those behemoths for the first time, and I felt the wind sucked out of my lungs. Like I said, it doesn't take much to know that they were impossibly large, hanging down and probably weighed a ton. But fuck, they were perfect - at least in my opinion.
She had moved away and flicked the light off. I went back into the house. Needless to say I was sitting in front of my computer not long thereafter! My right hand moved at a blur and the result was the usual messy one.
The next morning I slept in. Only a week and I missed the luxury of sleeping in late. Every day that week I had risen at six to leave by six-ten so that I could still get in my usual hour-long workout. I stretched out in bed, angling my feet down and arching my back up off of my bed, all while idly reaching down to stroke my morning wood more out of habit than sexual arousal. The need to use the bathroom ended that and my first weekend spent alone in the house and as an adult in the workforce beckoned.
The trouble was, I had nothing to do. I drove to the gym and then jumped on my mountain bike for a fast, hard 6-mile ride. I was back at the house by one and it took all of fifteen minutes for boredom to set in. Having nothing better to do, I went to the garage and fired up the mower. It usually took me about an hour to do our yard, and it was a pleasant if boring walk in circles. When that was done, I pulled my car out of the garage and studied it.
It was an old and dented with pockets of rust in the wheel wells. It had over one hundred twenty-five thousand miles. I opened all four doors and wheeled out the trusty Shop Vac and gave the interior a thorough cleaning. Intent as I was on my job, when Mrs. C tapped me on the shoulder, it scared the hell out of me. I squawked loudly, and damn near hit my head on the roof of the car.
"Oh sorry!" she exclaimed, backing away a little.
I shut off the vacuum. "It's okay, you just scared me a little bit, that's all."
"You were intent, I didn't know how else to get your attention!" she said. A sweet smile formed on her lips. Although she wore a black tee-shirt that did not let anything show through, it clung closely to her curves. The image of her nude upper body popped into my head. I had to force that thought away.
"It's okay, what's up?" I said cheerfully.
"So, a few things," she said. "I hope you don't mind my interruption?"
"No no, not at all," I assured her quickly.
"Good. So I understand that you're staying at home until your parents come back. Right?"
