WARNING:
The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further!
This story is for entertainment only. It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction. The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact. I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here. The characters in the story are entirely fictional. You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen.
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author.
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This story begins a new series. I'll let the words speak for themselves...
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Close Knit
It didn't take long after the For Sale sign went up at the Cocksworths' former residence for a moving truck to show up in their driveway. Something about that house, turning over so often. Had some witch cast a curse over it, preventing residents from staying too long? If so, there was a sexual aspect to the curse, given how many young women I'd coupled with within its walls. My curiosity boiled over. A family with grown kids? Maybe a young couple buying their first house? Even better, a sorority! We aren't all that far from a local college. Maybe they have initiations that call for male volunteers -
The doorbell interrupted my reverie, dozens of nubile co-eds in various states of undress.
A woman I guessed to be a few years past my age, based on the volume of grey hair, stood on my stoop with a smile and a large knitting bag hanging on her shoulder. Needles stuck out from the top. "Hello there. I'm Clara Bichano, your new neighbor." She pointed to the Cocksworths' place. "May I use your telephone, please?"
"Sure." I opened the screen door. "Come on in. It's on the table in the hallway.
She walked over and picked up the receiver. "Those phone company people can be so unreliable. They were supposed to have my service up and running by now. I can't stand unreliability, don't you?"
This woman was a piece of work. Wearing a long knit dress in eighty-degree heat? "Nice outfit."
"Thanks, I made it myself. That's my passion, truth be told. Most all my clothes are off my own two needles." She pulled a slip of paper from the bag on her arm and tapped buttons on the phone. "I'm calling a rug cleaner. There are yellow stains on the living room and bedroom carpets. The Cocksworths must have been sloppy eaters."
I swallowed hard. "Really?" Those stains were my sperm, unless Harry leaked around the house.
She cradled the receiver to her ear, pulled out the two needles and continued work on some item while talking to me. "I should warn you, I'll be having lots of company. Family, to be specific. Oh, and there'll be trucks and workmen for the next week or so. I'm putting in a swimming pool."
"Really?" Nice amenity, and the opportunity for bikinis and skinny-dipping. God, can't I ever get my mind out of the gutter?
"For your inconvenience, you'll all be welcome to use it, of course. Neighbors can be like family. In fact, let me knit you something." She hung up. "A swimsuit, that's obvious."
"I have swimsuits." Baggy ones, so my erection doesn't show.
"Posh! Something else, perhaps?"
"A scarf? I'm a big Dr. Who fan, and the Tom Baker version -"
"Of course. Perfect!" She stuffed her latest project back into the bag. "I'll have to go out and get the right colors, to make it authentic."
"Don't go to that trouble. Use anything you have laying around. A random mix will look just as good."
Clara shot me a stern look, like a teacher staring down a naughty student. And I was naughty, wasn't I? "A Tom baker scarf is not to be dallied with. It's a classic! There' a right way and a wrong way to everything, that's what I always say." She whipped a cloth tape measure from her bag. "Now, let me take some measurements."
"For the scarf?"
"No, silly. I have the precise colors and dimensions at home, or at least packed away in one of my boxes. So many boxes to handle. For the swimsuit." She snapped the tape measure like a belt. "Now, drop your drawers so I can take accurate measurements."
I hesitated.
"Come come, I've seen plenty of men in their skivvies. And a lot less."
No harm, I guess. My pants hit the floor.
She put her arms around me to take my waist measurement. That put us body to body. Although she wasn't my type, the incidental hug got my penis going. Shit, she'll see my erection and get the wrong idea.
She completed my waist measurement and jotted it on a page of a notebook. "Now, your inseam. Spread your legs, honey. Would you like it long or brief?"
The lump in my jockeys was obvious.
Clara giggled as her knuckles grazed my balls and the underside of my erection. "Never mind, I'll make it long. You'll require expansion room, I can see. You're very lucky, but your lady friends are luckier." She broke into a laugh. "You're the first serious competition for Mr. Stiffy I've seen in a long while."
Huh?
"Do what you do, do well, that's what I always say. All righty, pull them up. I'm finished."