The Neighbor 53

THE NEIGHBOR

This one is for the

Literotica 2022 April Fools Day Story Contest

. As always, your votes and comments would be much appreciated.

Craning my neck to get a look out of my living room window, though I hated to, I had to cut my sister off. Happily rambling away about her new crafting group, she had no idea my mind was on something else entirely, something far more important.

"Sorry Cindy, but I've got to go. A truck has just pulled up next door, and I'm dying to see what my new neighbor looks like."

"Let's hope for your sake he's a cutie."

I laughed. "With my luck? I don't think so. Considering the fact that he's moving in on April Fool's Day, he'll probably be older than our old neighbor Mr. Schmitt, and twice as crotchety, yelling at everybody to get off his lawn. Although... the real estate agent did say whoever bought the house was single."

"Well, I guess you'll know what you're dealing with when you see him."

"Yeah, guess so. I'll talk to you later, sis."

I tossed my phone on the kitchen counter, and ran to check my hair in the powder room, tucking a few stray red curls back into my ponytail. Wrinkling my nose at my reflection, I wished I had time to dab on some concealer to hide my freckles, and maybe highlight my blue eyes with a little eyeshadow. Giving my cheeks a few quick pinches to give them a little color, I decided it was about all I could do if I didn't want to miss him. After I'd raced and got the broom from the broom closet, I took a deep breath and stepped out onto my front porch.

Since everyone I knew was mostly working from home these days, it was nearly impossible to meet anyone. Especially for someone like me who wasn't into the bar scene, and didn't like the thought of trying my luck on a dating site. So, here I was, broom in hand, spying on my new neighbor, like some kind of stalker.

Doing my best to look like I was busy sweeping, I tried to act cool while keeping an eye on the rental truck that just pulled into the driveway next door and turned off its engine.

And holy Hannah, I could feel my mouth fall open the moment he stepped out onto his driveway.

Dark haired, kind of swarthy looking with sun-bronzed skin, and a sexy beard shadow going on. On the tall side too, and totally ripped.

Yum.

What a perfect piece of man candy. But surely this couldn't be him. This guy couldn't possibly be my new neighbor, not with my luck.

Because wow, if he was, I felt like I'd just hit the jackpot, at least as far as hunky neighbors went.

Looking over, he noticed me sweeping and gave me a nod. I stopped, smiled and said, "Hi," hoping he'd be friendly.

When he stopped mid-stride to look back, I could actually feel his gaze sliding over me, his lips curling up in a seductive smile as he answered, "Hi, there," in a deep sultry voice.

It suddenly dawned on me from the way he was raking me over, that I really wasn't wearing much, which would explain his slow perusal. Clad in just a tiny denim skirt and pale pink body-hugging tank top, that showed off a bit of midriff, and really highlighted my girls. If I'd known I'd be meeting my new neighbor today, I might have slipped into something a little nicer. Not much I could do now though, so I just smiled back.

After a quick nod, I watched him open up the back of the truck and start carting boxes into his new house.

Openly staring now, since he was too busy to notice, I gotta say, I loved the way his muscles flexed, stretching out his black t-shirt. Hmmm, he looked so yummy, I actually licked my lips. Nothing like an uber sexy gun show to get my motor revving. It was pretty enthralling watching the play of his back muscles rippling as he carried each load inside. Letting my mind drift off, I could just imagine how much hotter he'd look out of his clothes.

Lucky for him, the unpredictable March weather was done, and April 1

st

was warm enough for t-shirts and jeans, so at least he had a good day for moving.

And

for showing off all those muscles.

Glancing up, I spotted a few cob-webs in the overhang on my porch. Which thankfully gave me an excuse to stay outside with something else to tackle, now that I'd finished sweeping.

I noticed the last thing he carried in was a pretty heavy looking tool box, that I knew he was going to need. These old war-time houses always needed something done. Like my place. I had a laundry list of things I had to get to. Eventually I'd get there though, once I had the money to hire someone to sort everything out.

Thankfully, I had a promotion coming up, so that would sure help.

About to go back inside, I thought I might as well be neighborly, walk across the driveway and take a moment to sweep off my new neighbor's porch.

I was almost done, when his hotness stepped back outside. Looking surprised, he gave me the sweetest smile. "Gee, that's nice of you."

Feeling my cheeks heating up, I shrugged, just happy to be able to get a good look at him up close. And holy smokes, if possible, he was even better looking than I realized. A touch of gray at his temples made me think he had to be somewhere in his forties, which meant he had about twenty years on me. But otherwise, from the shape he was in, he sure as heck didn't look anywhere near middle-aged. And wow, those eyes. Like shimmering topaz, such a unique golden-brown, that seemed to be positively sparkling with mischief as he gave me a teasing flash of his perfect white teeth. Heaving a shaky sigh, I nodded. "Thought it would be one less thing for you to do."

"Yeah." he shook his head, glancing back over his shoulder at what awaited him inside. The house had been unoccupied for almost a year, ever since dear old Mrs. Patton passed away, so I knew there had to be tons of things to do. "I don't even know where to start," he said. "There's just so much stuff, and so much that needs doing."

Wincing, I showed him the shards of glass I'd swept up, and pointed up at the broken light fixture over our heads. "You mean stuff like that?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, guess I'll have to fix that, too. But first I've got to see what's going on with the fridge. I plugged it in, but it doesn't seem to be doing anything. Anyway, thanks again for taking care of the broken glass, uh..." He raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Cassie," I informed him with a smile.

"And I'm Berto. Really nice to meet you, Cassie." He held out his hand to shake mine. A little awestruck, for a second, I just numbly stared at his hand.

When he went ahead, reached out and wrapped his hand around mine, the way we looked into each other's eyes, both of us starting to grin, it already felt like something was happening between us.

Finally, I think it dawned on him that he was still holding on, but he kept his eyes on mine, even after he'd let go of my hand.

"Well, if you need to put anything in the fridge, you're welcome to use mine. I'll leave the front door unlocked, so you can put whatever you need to inside."

He looked a little surprised that I was so trusting, I guess. "Actually, I've got some drinks I wouldn't mind keeping cold."

"And I've got some fresh squeezed lemonade I made this morning already cold, if you'd like some."

"Sounds good. I'll see what I can get done, and I might come over for a glass in a while."

While I waited for Berto, I thought maybe I should make a few sandwiches in case he was hungry. Initially, I was only going to make tuna, but then I thought, what if he doesn't like fish? So, I made a few roast beef, a couple of veggie, and two sliced turkey. Wrinkling my nose at the little platter of sandwich quarters, thinking it didn't look like much, I added bowls of pickles and olives and cut up some fruit and tossed together a salad. Then I decided I might as well bake a few cookies and put on some coffee while I was at it.

I was just washing off the cookie sheet and got a little lost gazing out at my big back yard. Which was what sold me on the place, having my very own green oasis, just outside my back door. Spring had to be my favorite season. And seeing the bright yellow daffodils and cluster of red tulips starting to bloom, and a pair of robins red-breasts hopping around on the grass had me smiling.

But then I jumped when I heard a knock at my front door. Berto poked his head in. "Cassie?"

"Come on in," I called out, waving him into the kitchen as I dried my hands.

He took off his work boots at the door, and nodded looking impressed as he walked through my quaint little cottage. "Wow, your place looks really nice, it's so cozy."

My sister was into flowery décor with loads of chintz. Cutesy teddy bears, and knick-knacks covered nearly every surface in her house. But I liked something less busy, something a little more stylish, but nothing too modern. Just two comfy beige love seats facing each other, angled at my old fireplace, with an oak coffee table between them, was more my style.

"Well, I've lived here for just over a year, and I've still got loads to do, but it's getting there."

I set down some plates, took the sandwiches out of the fridge and explained the little feast spread out across the table, when in hindsight, I realized I might have gone just a teensy bit overboard. "Um... I thought you might be hungry."

"Are all the neighbors this nice?" he asked, flashing me an appreciative smile as he looked a little wide-eyed at the pile of food I'd put together.

"Just being neighborly," I said with an awkward shrug.

At least we could enjoy a meal together, even if this was the only chance we'd ever have to talk.

He was so far out of my league; I already knew we'd never go out on a real live date or anything. Besides, when a guy looked as hot as he did, I imagined he had a girlfriend or two lined up, so he'd never have to spend a night alone.

After downing two glasses of ice-cold lemonade, he reached for another sandwich. "Wow, everything is so good. I didn't realize how hungry I was. I had to get up early this morning to pick up the truck, and only had time for a drive-thru coffee."

"Then eat up," I said, pushing the platters towards him, happy to see him eating.

"So, you live here on your own?" he asked, adding sugar to his coffee as he glanced around my kitchen.

"Yep, just me. I work from home, too. So, it's nice to have some company," I said, with a little grin.

He was smiling back, till he turned his head, looking confused. "What's that plopping sound?"

Normally I could tune it out, but now that he'd mentioned it, I could hear it plop, plop, plopping, reminding me that I had to bite the bullet and call a plumber. I winced, a little embarrassed. "It's um... a bucket filling up. I've got a leak under my sink."

The two of us walked over to my kitchen sink. When I pulled the nearly overflowing bucket out from under the sink and emptied it down the drain, Berto said, "I think I'd better take a look."

Reluctantly, I got the flashlight out of the cupboard, and he got on his back on the floor to see what the problem was. "How long has this been leaking, Cassie?"

"Um... it's been going on for a while." I didn't want to tell him, that I was all set to call the plumber, to get it taken care of when I got blind-sided with a bill I wasn't expecting. After having to spend a small fortune to fix my car that had just run out of warranty -- of course only a week before the engine blew -- meant that everything else had to wait until I had some extra money.

"Well, I can fix this. I'll just have to get my tools," he said, sliding back out and getting to his feet.

"Berto, I can't ask you to do that."

"Why not? Save you having to call a plumber." He glanced around. "You got anything else that needs fixing while I got my tools with me?"

There were so many little things, but I wasn't about to tell him that. "This doesn't feel right. You've got enough on your plate with what you've got waiting for you next door, to have to be helping me, too."

"Hey, let me fix this one thing, okay? Then you won't need the bucket anymore. You know you could wind up with a leak in your basement if it overflows." He was right of course. Lately, I'd been getting up at night to empty it, before it got too near the top.

When he came back with his tools, he said, "I'll need to shut off the water." I took him to the basement, and he remarked, "At least it's nice and dry down here," as he looked over my exercise room and the rec-room I had primed that still needed painting. After he'd turned off the water shut-off valve, he went back upstairs to work on my sink.

I felt so guilty listening to him grunting and quietly cursing, as he struggled to loosen the old pipe fittings. When I heard, "Dammit!" I flinched, knowing he must have hurt himself.

"Are you okay?" I asked, anxiously hovering over him, staring down at his thickly muscled thighs.

"Yeah, I just need some paper towel."

Once I handed it to him, he tore off a few sheets, gave the roll back, and went right back to tackling the old pipe.

Finally, I blew out a breath, relieved when he pushed his way back out from under the sink.

"It should be okay now, one of the fittings was loose," he said, wiping an arm across his sweaty brow.

"But you cut yourself," I said, before I'd even thanked him.

He looked at the paper towel dotted with blood, wrapped around his knuckles. "It's okay, it's just a scratch."

"Let me see." I started to unwrap it before he could object. "I'd say that's more than a scratch," I said, looking up into his eyes.

He shrugged. "Once it's bandaged, it'll be fine."

"Well, let me clean it up first."

While he washed and dried his hands, I went and got my first aid kit and told him to sit down at the table. He smirked. "Yes, ma'am."

Smirking right back, I rolled my eyes. After I'd swabbed it with alcohol, and applied some antibiotic ointment, I carefully covered it with a big band-aid. Then I wrapped it in gauze, just to be sure it would stay clean and wouldn't bleed anymore.

When I looked up, he was smiling. "I'm guessing you're a nurse."

"Actually, I work in market research. But I did take a first aid course in high school, that's come in pretty handy."

He leaned across, cupped my face in his hand and kissed the end of my nose. "Well, thanks for fixing me up."

I felt so flustered just from that little kiss, I stammered as I belatedly remembered to thank him. "Well, thank you for um... fixing my leaky pipe. And I'm really sorry about you getting hurt."

He shrugged. "No worries, I'll live. But now I'd better get back to work next door, to see how much more I can get done today."

As I washed our dishes at the sink, I realized I couldn't have asked for a nicer neighbor. Not many people would have gone to the trouble of crawling under a sink to mend a leaky pipe, especially for someone they barely knew.

I'd just sat down at my little work station about to check my email, and forgot I'd left the front door unlocked. Till I heard Berto, calling out, "Cassie, don't make anything for dinner, I'll bring us something. And I should be back around seven, okay?"

By the time I walked to the front door, he was already gone. I couldn't believe what a sweet guy he was. Of course, I broke into a smile and felt a little shiver go up my spine, realizing I was going to see more of him tonight.

Deciding to freshen up, I went and got a shower, shaved my legs, making sure every inch of me was silky smooth -- just in case. Well, except for the little tuft of red curls adorning my mound, that I thought looked kind of cute.

After going through my closet, I settled on a black sundress, patterned with tiny white flowers. Though it wasn't overly dressy, it was still a little flirty, showing a bit of cleavage and quite a bit of leg.

Some nude sandals, and a gold anklet, finished the look I was going for -- a little bit teasing, without being too much.

I let my long, red hair down, doing my best to tame my curls. After adding a touch of makeup, I was done. Now I just hoped he'd show up, or I'd be pretty disappointed.

Deciding to set my table with my best dishes, I put out some wine glasses, noticing I had a chilled bottle of Pinot at the back of my fridge. I didn't drink much, but figured tonight I might as well kick back and enjoy myself if I was going to be dining with my charming new neighbor.

I even put on some music, just to set the mood. George Benson always did for me. Sultriest voice ever, and such amazing guitar riffs, hot enough to melt a girl's panties. Especially when he was crooning something like Gimme the Night, with the romantic lyrics:

'Then we can be lovers 'cause I see, That starlight look in your eyes

.'

Just then, I turned my head when I heard Berto walking in, and couldn't believe the size of the bags he was carrying. "Holy smokes, what's all this?"

Grinning, he set it all down on the kitchen counter. "Thought we'd enjoy some of my favorite dishes." He started opening the containers, explaining each one. "I got us some nicely spiced Arroz con Pollo, slow roasted pork, fried potato cakes stuffed with cheese, a crispy salad and some sweet Tres Leches cake. And I couldn't resist some orange flan and a few coconut cocadas, when I saw they had those, too." He waggled his eyebrows looking me up and down, "Because I do enjoy my sweets. And I've got to say, you look amazing in that dress, Cassie."

I could feel my cheeks burning. Trouble with being a fair-skinned red head, it was pretty easy to tell when I was embarrassed. And no surprise, I seemed to be always blushing around him.

As I poured our wine, Berto was kind enough to put a little of everything on my plate. "Don't know if you've ever had Ecuadorian food before, but this stuff's pretty authentic."

"So, you're from Ecuador?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Came here when I was two. I've been back a few times, and still have a lot of family there."

When he went quiet, and started looking a little pensive, I decided to change the subject. "Well, everything looks really good." There was just so much, I wasn't even sure where to start.

Berto smiled as he dug in. "I just hope you enjoy it."

"Hmmm, Berto." Moaning out loud, I actually rolled my eyes, it was just so good. "The chicken and rice is unbelievable. I've made it before, but mine never tasted anything like this. I'd love to know how they make it."

"I could teach you."

I smiled at the prospect, gazing into those stunning golden-brown eyes. The idea of us getting together again, even just to cook something up in the kitchen, sounded pretty good to me.

He nodded as we ate, and remarked, "Nice sound track," as George belted out, 'Turn Your Love Around.' I smirked at Berto as George sang,

'Every woman needs a man.'

Truer words were never spoken, or sung in this case, since lately I really had been wishing that I had someone in my life.

Realizing the music was pretty old school, I thought I should explain. "My dad loved jazz, and George Benson was one of his favorites. Even at the end when he was sick, he loved hearing his music. So of course, he's one of my favorites, too."

"So, you lost your dad?"

I nodded. "Two years ago. He was a firefighter. And like so many others, he got cancer, and died a week before he would have turned sixty."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

He went quiet again, and I reached over and stroked his hand. Finally, he lifted his gaze and opened up about what was haunting him. "I lost both my parents when I was a baby, in a political uprising. My uncle brought me here when I was only two, so that I'd have a chance at a better life. And I owe him a lot."

I squeezed his hand, not even sure what to say. After that revelation, neither of us said much and just quietly finished our dinner.