The Fortuitous Exposure of Samantha

She was a 25 year old, stunning 5'10" brunette, who had moved into the neighborhood over the winter. I hadn't paid much attention to her until I was out in my yard this past spring, getting my lawn ready to withstand and thrive during the upcoming summer.

I was going about my business when I heard grunts and groans coming from the next yard. It sounded like someone was struggling with something, or a person that was experiencing pain from an injury they had just sustained. I stopped what I was doing and walked over to the fence. I saw a person lying on her back with one leg stretched across the other, with slight pain in her sweat covered face. She wasn't moving much, with the exception of her hips slightly twisting in the direction of the leg that was going in a 90 degree direction from the rest of her body. My first thought was that she was trying to get that leg back in line with the other and was having a hard time. I excused myself and asked her if she was alright, or if she needed help with anything.

Her movement stopped and her face conformed back to normalcy. She turned her face in my direction and said, "Excuse me?" A few seconds later, she said, "Oh ... no, I'm fine, just trying to stretch the winter from my muscles. Sorry I disturbed you, but thanks for asking."

"Glad to hear that you're okay. I'm sorry I bothered you." I then gave a short wave as I started to turn back to my own work. My thoughts were already directed to her long legs and her three quarter length spandex Capri joggers that contoured her firm, round, young bottom. But those thoughts left my mind as quickly as they entered it.

She suddenly responded, and said, "You didn't bother me at all. It's comforting to know that there's a neighbor who cares about others. I don't know very many people in this town, so it's reassuring and nice to meet someone close by." She got up and walked in my direction. When she got to the fence she extended her hand, and said, "I'm Samantha, but everybody calls me Sam."

"You don't look like a Sam to me ... pleased to meet you, Sam. I'd prefer calling you Samantha, if you don't mind. I'm Tucker, but everybody calls me Tuck." I gave a little laugh hoping she'd pick up on me copying her introduction.

She laughed also, and countered, "Pleased to meet you as well, Tuck. I'd prefer calling you Tucker, if you don't mind," then displayed the prettiest smile I've ever seen.

"A pretty, witty, quick thinking young lady ... very refreshing," I thought to myself.

"Well, Tucker, you've got to get back to your yard and I've got to get back to my stretching exercises. It's been a long winter for both of us. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Yeah, it still gets dark early this time of year. The pleasure was all mine, Samantha. Have a great afternoon."

"You too ... See ya!"

It was nice to see some youth moving into the neighborhood. And a nice young girl at that! I went back to my yard work, trying to beat the sunset.

A few weeks had gone by with little communication between me and my new neighbor, other than the customary wave and hello as our paths crossed. I don't know why, but I began looking forward to seeing her in passing.

The weather had warmed up, and my flowers were just beginning to bud. I was checking out the new growth, when I was distracted.

"Good morning, Tucker! Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day."

"Good morning, Samantha. Yeah, I love this time of year. Off to work?" I felt a burst of pleasure seeing her this early in the morning. She just brightened up my day, for reasons I didn't quite understand and didn't question. It wasn't a sexual thing; those thoughts never entered my mind. Her youthful energy, along with her genuine pleasant personality, was just so refreshing and invigorating. I did admire her statuesque figure and stunning beauty, however.

"Yep, off to work. I'm glad it's Friday. I'm looking forward to the weekend."

I knew she didn't have time for conversation, but I asked her anyway. "Have you got big plans for the weekend?" thinking that might be the reason she mentioned she was looking forward to it.

"No, no big plans. It's just that this week has been uncharacteristically hectic ... Hey, if you don't have any plans for tomorrow, why don't we have lunch on my patio? I make an awesome shrimp salad! It might be nice just sitting together and getting to know a little more about each other, other than our names. Think about it ... let me know tonight when I get home," she bubbly replied.

"I don't have to think about it. I'd love having lunch with you tomorrow, Samantha. Do you want me to pick up anything while you're at work?"

"No, but thanks just the same. I'll stop to pick up what I don't already have on my way home. Okay, I've got to get going. See you when I get back. Have a wonderful day, Tucker."

"You too. Don't work too hard." I stood there and watched her walk to her car, admiring her grace and poise as she entered her car and backed out of her driveway. I wondered if she'd be so friendly if I weren't old enough to be her grandfather, as I walked back to my house. I must admit, I felt some excitement at the thought of having lunch together and felt myself getting a little flush.

When Samantha got home, we agreed to have lunch around 1 P.M. the next afternoon. She told me that the time we set was not written in stone and that I could just come over a little earlier, if I chose. My thoughts seemed to keep going back to how pleasantly friendly, and gracious she was for such a young woman. She obviously came from a fine family who had taught her well.

Saturday came with a glorious blue sky and a bright sun. I was ready by eleven, but like most from my generation, we rarely overstepped our bounds, or took advantage of openings, so I sat and began reading the morning newspaper. About an hour later, my front doorbell rang.

When I opened the door, Samantha began rattling on about how she had to run to the store to buy mayonnaise, she had just run out. I was listening to her, but my eyes were admiring her. She was wearing a light T-shirt that only went down to just above her naval, exposing her well defined, flat stomach, along with her pert nipples, which looked like they were about to tear through the fabric of her thin shirt. She looked stunning, and sexy. Once my eyes left that lovely sight and moved down below her tits and bare belly, I saw that she was wearing a pair of very loose, lightweight shorts that flowed with the slightest movement, giving the appearance it was a fine, expensive fabric. This observation took but a few seconds, and my thoughts went back to the current conversation. I stuttered while telling her that I had an unopened jar in the cupboard that she could have, and invited her in. When I brought her the mayonnaise, I smiled and simply told her to take it to save herself a trip.

Samantha took the jar, gave me one of her gorgeous smiles, and said, "Same brand I use, perfect! Thank you very much, this'll save me some time. Give me about a half hour, then you can come over anytime you're ready." She then gingerly turned and walked to the sidewalk.

I remained standing there, admiring her beauty and natural poise, once again. Her shorts flowed much like a skirt, but didn't hide her lovely ass and its movements as she walked. In my mind, she would've made a great model. I felt a slight sensation in my cock and balls that I'd not felt in years. I reminded myself that I had to consider Samantha as a neighbor, nothing more, and leave it at that. I was also very much aware of our age difference. I went back to my newspaper, trying to channel my thoughts in a different direction.

I couldn't wait to spend the afternoon with her, but didn't want to appear too anxious and possibly give her any wrong impression of me. I didn't start making my way to her yard until 12:45 and knocked on her sliding doors on the patio. She walked up to the doors with a big welcoming smile and her firm, young tits jiggling with every step, still in the same clothing as earlier.

I held up a bottle of Russiz Superiore, a refreshing, citrusy Pinot Grigio that really compliments any shellfish, along with two stemmed, wine goblets. I then told her that I'd wait outside and if she needed any help with anything, to just sing out.

Samantha looked at the wine, and said, "Outstanding! That's something else I forgot to pick up. I'll be just a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable and pour us each a glass."

I opened the bottle of wine and poured each glass about half full. A few minutes later I heard a tapping on the glass slider. Samantha was standing there, carrying a large tray with the salad and larger than normal, hot dog buns, looking down at the door latch. I got up and opened the door for her and she stepped out, said thanks, and placed the tray on the table. She said, "There's plates and utensils, if you don't like sandwiches." She then picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. "What a wonderful tasting wine,. Great choice, Tucker!" She put the glass to her nose and smelled slowly. "What a nice aroma ... or should I say bouquet?" She then gave a soft, two syllable giggle-like laugh.

I told her she could've just said that it smelled nice, and that would've been fine with me. "I'm not big on formalities ... I'm just a regular guy that likes the simple life."

"That's great, it makes me feel like home, where a person can express their opinion without worrying about offending anyone. You can be who and what you are, back home. I knew there was a reason I liked you right from the start."

We spent the whole afternoon enjoying each other's company, and getting to know about one another. It was one of the most pleasurable afternoons I'd had in quite some time. She was right, her shrimp salad rivaled the best I've ever tasted.

I'm a bit embarrassed to say, but my eyes took advantage of every opportunity to get quick, and sometimes not so quick, looks at her. That beautiful young face, and especially, her firm tits and nipples, not to mention, her lovely, inviting ass, each time she got up. I also savored whatever peek I could get of her pussy area. I had constant tingling sensations in my stomach and balls all day. I felt like a lecher, and hoped I wasn't too obvious or offensive. She showed no indication that either was the case.

Over the course of the afternoon, I learned that Samantha was from a very small, Mid-Western town, and went to an equally small, little known, local college, where she acquired her Master's Degree in Marketing. It took her seven and a half years, as she explained that after getting her Bachelor's degree, she had to work full time to save enough money to go back for her Master's. She said that her family was in no position to help financially. She went on to say that she had interviewed for her job in June of last year, right after graduation, and was hired with the understanding that she could not start before the beginning of this year. She wanted out of the small town environment, and knew that the only way she could "make her mark" in her field was to work for a large company in a big city. So, she accepted the position and the wait. It gave her time to find a suitable place to live without rushing into something, she reasoned.

I headed home close to 6 P.M. extremely impressed with this very mature young lady, who was not full of herself, but confident and non-apologetic about the person she is, and yet, still genuinely pleasant, and down to earth. She carried herself well in every visible way. It was also obvious, by the butterflies I was feeling in my stomach, that I was equally impressed with her loveliness, and the slight, but very arousing views I got of her perfect body.

At around 10 P.M. I decided to take a shower, unable to erase the vision of Samantha; her pert nipples showing through her T-shirt, her lovely ass, and how I came close to seeing her pussy when she moved a certain way. I was feeling the butterflies of arousal, and thought a shower might alleviate the feeling that had been all too foreign for a very long time.

I got out of the shower and walked to my bedroom completely naked. I was about to put my light on when I noticed Samantha's bedroom light on, and her curtains wide open. I couldn't see her, and didn't know if she was in the room or not, so I walked up to my window in complete darkness to pull down my shade. Before I could put the shade down, Samantha came into view with just a huge towel wrapped around her. I knew I should just pull down the shade and walk away, but I couldn't. Instead, I backed up a few feet into the darkness, and continued watching her. My mind was racing, and I thought my heart was going to beat so hard it would burst.

Samantha's mirrored dresser was opposite her window and afforded me a perfect, unobstructed view of her backside, along with her complete front, reflecting in the mirror as she stood in front of it. She began brushing and drying her hair. Her reaching and movement above her head caused the towel to loosen and fall to the floor, leaving her standing there with all her naked beauty for me to see. I gasped in awe and felt weak in the knees, as the tingles of a strong and powerful arousal began to take me over. Her ass was so firm and perfectly shaped. Her tits, although not large, were proportioned nicely to her body, and stood firm and proud. Her areolae were a very light pink and about silver dollar sized, with perfect size nipples, looking right back at her through the mirror. She was majestically elegant, and I found myself slowly stroking my still semi-erect cock.

Samantha, evidently dropped something, or reached down to pick up something without bending her knees, giving me a clear look at her lovely shaved, 25 year-old pussy. My cock almost immediately sprung to a full erection and I began jerking it faster, with purpose now. I began imagining my cock sliding into her tight pussy and I began fantasizing that she knew I was watching her, and that she was putting on this show just for me, and I was in her bedroom with her. I began talking to her, as my voice began to shudder from breathing heavy, coupled with the speed of my hand moving up and down the shaft of my cock. My eyes were riveted on her lovely ass as I imagined my old cock between those young cheeks. She then reached up and cupped each of her breasts. She looked up to herself, and smiled, approvingly, and softly. I imagined she was looking and smiling at me. I began to grunt and moan, as I could feel my orgasm leaving my balls and shooting up the shaft of my cock. I gave out a few "OH's" and a few "AH's", and came so strong that my first stream of semen nearly hit the wall in front of me, and then heavily hit the hardwood floor, making a loud smacking sound. My cock kept throbbing as more semen shot out of it. I had not cum that much in many years. The whole experience was glorious, and I privately thanked Samantha.

As I was about to reach for the shade, Samantha turned around, walked to her window, and reached for both curtains. As she was slowly closing them, I swore I saw a naughty, knowing smile appear on her face. I immediately drew down my shade and backed up a few steps. "Did she know I was watching her? Did she see me jerking off?" A thousand fucking questions raced through my mind. A cloud of shame and embarrassment immediately hung over my head. I wondered how I could ever face her again. I had already convinced myself that she was watching me, like I was watching her. I plopped on my bed, but couldn't fall asleep, fraught with guilt and concern.

Sunday morning I was awakened by my doorbell. I threw on my robe and went to the door. It was Samantha, with a big smile on her face and a covered Cool Whip container in her hand. Seeing that I was still wearing my robe, and my white hair was messy and pillow combed, she got serious.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you? I was just going for a run, and saw your car still in the driveway. You seemed to really enjoy my shrimp salad yesterday, so I put some in one of my very expensive plastic containers," she mockingly said, and without pausing, continued, "And brought a package of extra hot dog buns for you. I wasn't sure you'd still be home when I got back, so I thought I'd bring them to you now. Sorry Tucker."

"Oh, thanks. Yeah, I over slept this morning. I had a difficult time falling asleep last night, for some reason. I appreciate it. This is the best shrimp salad I've ever eaten; the chopped hard boiled eggs and shredded carrots really made it special. Thanks, I'll have this for lunch. Oh, and don't worry about waking me. I needed to get up anyway."

She smiled, and said, "I'm so glad you really liked it. Gotta run before the sun gets too hot. See you later, Tucker." She then turned and jogged down my walkway and out of sight.

"What a great gal." I convinced myself, in a matter of minutes, that she had no idea I saw her last night. I didn't detect any change in her demeanor or voice inflection from yesterday. She's just a good person, a little naïve possibly, but it only magnifies her thoughtful and genuine kindness. The idea of her seeing me last night was just another figment of my imagination and fantasy.

The summer went on and Samantha and I went about our own business, with the exception of an occasional relaxing evening of conversation maybe once every two weeks or so. And yes, once every so often, I'd see her in her bedroom after a shower, and I never ceased to take advantage of the situation to jerk off and cum, admiring and fantasizing. I always enjoyed and looked forward to those times.

One evening on her patio, after we had become very comfortable with each other, I asked her why such a beautiful woman, inside and out like her, didn't have boys constantly at her door, or driving around the block, just to get a smile or wave from her. Being the open and honest person she is, she explained to me why.

"Tucker, as you already know, I was born and brought up in a very tiny town out West where everyone knew and respected each other. There were boys in town, and we went through our little school crushes, but nothing ever got very serious; a kiss on the cheek was very bold and a big thing. I see now that the people in our town were still living in a past time. I'm not sorry about that. I'm kind of glad that I was fortunate enough to be exposed to that and learn how to respect and appreciate people, as they are."

"I then attended an equally small and little known college. My social skills were not lacking; I just wasn't prepared to blend in with what the accepted mores and attitudes were, even though they would still seem backwards and mild by other kids in larger colleges who grew up in larger cities. I eventually met a boy, and we dated for a long time. I thought I was in love with him, and he always showed me the highest amount of respect. Inevitably, I gave in to my emotions, and his heated advances, and we had sex. It's funny looking back, but at that time, I felt like I had finally arrived," she gave a little chuckle.

Samantha continued. "After a few months, and several sexual encounters with him, things began to change. His respect for me began to wane, not drastically at first, but enough to be felt and noticed by me. It progressively worsened, to the point that I had to make a very difficult and emotional decision. To fill the void of not having someone special in my life, I turned to running long distance. I think that my cautiousness, and possibly fear of getting hurt again like that, has caused me to be a bit stand-offish. Not being afraid to say no, seems to be baffling and unacceptable to men, and women alike, my age. Word like that travels very quickly, which I'm okay with. I'm still, and always will be, the naïve, small town girl to most, and I personally am kind of proud of that fact. I refuse to settle for less, just to conform and fit in."