Irene lives over my back fence. She has been alone for most of 10 years that I've lived in this house. Her husband had been the local OSHA inspector who had perished during a routine safety inspection downtown. He was testing the safety cabling around the perimeter of the 18th floor of a high rise under construction, when he tripped and fell into a wheel barrow full of water, knocked himself out and drowned. The story was glorified a bit about having fallen to his death, but I knew better.
My second year in the house I had a girlfriend move in with me, but it didn't even last the summer. For the next two years Irene and I lived back to back with only an occasional wave every now and then.
One windy winter night, the back fence dividing our yards blew down. We now had a reason to talk, discussing how best to have the fence fixed. We stood both at the edges of our yards bundled against the snow flurries, and spoke for the first time ever. She was nice. I liked her. I had previously figured her for middle forties, but up close realized that she was more like late fifties, even early sixties. We continued to chat, as neither of us had had anyone to talk with for weeks. We talked until we were both freezing, and had to go inside. She gave me her number, as I was going to get some quotes for having the fence fixed and call her.
That evening, having called 6 or 7 guys who all laughed at my wanting to have the fence fixed immediately, I called her and told her that we would likely be sharing a backyard until spring. She told me that it wasn't so bad having a neighbor to talk to. She hadn't had that for some time. I invited her to call me anytime and gave her my number.
The following evening she called. She was feeling really down. The snow that had fallen all night was still coming down heavily. She was bored to tears, and trapped in her den with no TV; the cable was out. I had satellite, which worked fine as long as I broomed the snow out of the dish every hour. She was frustrated that nothing worked in her house. When I asked, she listed the items that were currently broken including her heater; the house was frozen, literally! She was lying under an electric blanket! I was aghast; what if the power went out. I realized that the power had gone out two days ago, in the middle of the night. She admitted to have nearly froze to death, but for running the oven all night.
I demanded that she come across the yards and stay with me until she had working heat. She wouldn't hear of it. I pressed the issue until I had to hang up, go to her house and practically drag her home with me. We gathered a few things for her personal comfort and headed to my house where she stayed for 3 days. Our light snowfall had turned into the biggest ice storm in 10 years.
So began a friendship that continues to this day, 8 years later. We are very close friends; closer than most. We eventually, step by teeny tiny step, became lovers. that began during the following winter, when I gave her a massage that got very heated.
We never did fix the fence between our yards, but simply removed the debris and fused our gardens together. We spent the spring together gardening and having Sunday brunches together on her back porch. She would sometimes join me, or sometimes me and a date, swimming in my pool and bar-b-queing. I began to realize that for someone of her age, 62, she looked fantastic! My "girlfriends" were always fascinated how a man my age, 29, would find her attractive. But I found her to be terrifically attractive; sexy; arousing.
She had only one bathing suit, but it fit her perfectly! High on the hip, open back, plunging front. It was very hot. She had a full figure, but what a figure! Very large breasts, high and upstanding, wide hips but not at all fat. I realized what Reubens found so appealing about his models; they were hot! As was Irene. We were together at some point practically every weekend, throughout the long hot summer.
One drunken Saturday afternoon when the temperature hovered above 100 and the humidity was off the chart. We lazed by the pool, not wanting to exert too much effort at anything. The burning sun finally went over the edge and the evening cooled. She was going home, when I drunkenly invited her back that night for a skinny dip in the Jacuzzi. I was immediately embarrassed after I had blurted it out, but she laughed it off and went home.
I was naked and in the tub at 9:00 pm when she appeared out of the shadows to join me. I had an instant shudder of arousal that she was going to get naked with me, but I soon realized she was not nearly so bold. She wore her suit as we soaked, floating quietly, not speaking. I was more than slightly smashed, having consumed beer all day long and eaten almost nothing. I joked about getting out of tub and walking naked to the house and going to bed, she told me to go ahead. She calmly watched as I stood up slowly, revealing my erection, got out dried off and went inside. I was compelled to move slowly and allow her to look if she wanted. I had the funny sensation of wanting her to see me nude, I've always been in good shape and proud of the size and shape of my penis. Her face was unreadable as she studied me, nude in front of her. I said goodnight, I think.
We repeated our Jacuzzi soaking once a month through the summer. I was by now trying to get her to get naked with me but to no avail. Finally, on Halloween, having taken her to a party with me, "as my date", we had our late evening soak. After which she stood up, got out of the tub, turned her back to me, stripped out of her suit, squeezed the water out of her hair, and wrapped a towel around herself, never once turning, even slightly.
"Wow," I finally burbled out. "You shouldn't be nearly so shy, with a shape like that."
"Well," she finally managed, as she collected her things, "Not so easy for someone that's never been nude in front of anyone besides her husband."; Not even once, I asked. "Not even once" as she blew a kiss and headed for her house I called after what a crime that was. I could hear her laughing out there in the dark.
Around midnight the phone rang. "It's Irene dear," she whispered into the phone. "I hope you'll forgive me for calling so late, but I'm feeling a bit drunk, for which I blame you completely." She giggled a bit. "Actually I'm quite ... well ... drunk I suppose and simply cannot sleep."
"So talk to me," I slurred into the phone.
"I just, ... really just," she stammered, "Wanted to know why it is that you're so fascinated with seeing my, ... me, ... in the nude?" I snapped fully awake at that.
"I'm sorry, " I choked out, "What did you ... are you kidding? Why wouldn't I? You are fantastic looking! Your body is exquisite! Do you think it's not?"
She chuckled doubtfully, commenting on our age difference. I swore to her that I was not lying but that I found her remarkably sexy. She was silent on her end.
"Forget your age!" I demanded. Your body turns me on like crazy! Forgive my saying, but you asked." I continued describing what I found so sexy about her; her mannerisms, her eyes, her shape; that incredible view of her naked back and behind; her voice and the silkiness of her skin, white and flawless. I told her how much I longed to see her completely nude. She just listened quietly. I imagined her dozing in bed, listening to my rambling.
I moved on to telling her what I would like to do to her. Hours passed it seemed as I continued telling her all of the sensual and sexual things that I would do to and with her. I continued to hear her rhythmic breathing and an occasional quiet moan, but she never spoke, only listened. We both finally fell into a drunken, stuporous sleep, without even hanging up. She left the next week for a month-long European vacation with a distant relative. I was never so lonely, as without my neighbor.
