Miracle on Slutty 4th Street

(This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent. For fans of my stories, they know what kinds of things to expect. This story deals with similar themes as the stories by wannabeboytoy, seducedHylas, and Dark Betrayal, namely cheating, betrayal, and heartbreak. If stuff like that isn't your cup of tea, then you probably shouldn't bother reading it. I do not condone any of these actions in real life. This is just a story. Enjoy.)

(Additional note for this series: EACH CHAPTER IN THIS SERIES CAN BE READ ON ITS OWN. Each chapter is self-contained, but if you do read the whole thing, some of the specific details will become clearer and more fleshed-out. Enjoy)

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(Chapter 3)

A bundled-up Lacey Allen bopped down the sidewalk with a huge grin on her face. Despite the blisteringly cold wind, and the snow making things slippery, and despite the prospect of talking to the meanest old man in the neighborhood, you couldn't get her down. That's what made her so appealing to others.

It also didn't hurt matters that she was stunningly good looking. The young fresh-faced blonde was absolutely gorgeous, with bright blue eyes, well-styled, shoulder-length blonde hair, and plump smooth lips, which were seemingly always turned up in a smile. She had a smooth, fair complexion, and just by looking at her face, you might see her as a woman who was too beautiful, too precious or fragile, to be real. If she was indeed real, you'd be so intimidated by her beauty and too fearful of somehow spoiling that beauty by your mere presence that you might be afraid to approach her.

But her body... her body was very inviting.

At times, it didn't seem possible for someone to be as absolutely gorgeous as Lacey. And it seemed downright unfair for her to be as stunning as she was and have the truly ridiculous body that she did. Her clean living and good habits led her to being very fit without really having to try, which was probably infuriating to her peers. She had a flat, fit belly, long firm legs, and a perfectly sculpted, upturned ass. That ass of hers... just wow. Round and juicy and immaculately shaped, it caught attention wherever she went. Heart-shaped and full, any item of clothing she wore simply highlighted it, clinging to the firm, perky, well-formed cheeks, while giving a hint of the delightful crevasse in between. Any man lucky enough to be walking behind her would see her heavenly rear end and be given a free show, watching it bounce and jiggle and shake side-to-side, imagining how amazing it would be to see her immaculate ass exposed for them.

But that wasn't even the best part of her.

It might seem unfair for a woman to be this gorgeous, and be so fit, and have such a perfect, mouth-watering ass. And on top of that, be so genuinely kind and friendly and sweet. So, to add on the fact that she had massive, perky double F-cup breasts, it was just... how could anyone be so perfect? She was perfect, and they were perfect. They were real, they were the size of melons, and they were jaw-droppingly firm and perky. They vaulted off her slim frame in almost cartoonish fashion, with almost zero sag. They were so massive and so firm that they rode close together, forming a natural cleft of eye-popping cleavage, while the outer sides of them remained visible from behind her. They were insanely big! They bounced and jiggled in whatever she wore, and while she didn't often wear many low cut tops, the times she did show skin left men practically drooling, hypnotized by the smooth flesh and immaculate cleavage they were seeing.

People often didn't take her seriously, based solely on her beauty and her outlandish body. They thought her to be dumb or a ditz or a bimbo, only to be shocked by the fact that she was whip-smart, well educated, and very informed of current events.

She was absolutely perfect.

She often got a lot of negative attention from the wrong kind of people, but she was talented at turning away that kind of stuff, both from drooling meatheads and enraptured shy guys alike. Unfortunately, she was so kind about it that it made all these guys want her more. She was not the type of girl to give away the goods easily, and only a lucky few had been allowed the glorious view that so many other guys wanted. Other girls wanted to dislike her, but she was just so friendly that that dislike came with great difficulty. You could try to hate her, and feel a bit jealous of her, but her infectious positivity and stunning beauty made it impossible to dislike her. Everyone just loved the beautiful 23-year-old, especially her husband Derrick.

A lot of men had fallen head over heels for her, from high school to college. But for some reason, she had chosen Derrick. He thanked whatever force brought them together. He himself was a handsome young man, but even he felt completely outclassed by his gorgeous wife. Derrick often felt unworthy of such a perfect woman, and he treated her like a princess, doing everything in his power not to blow it, even if that sometimes meant following along with some stuff he maybe wasn't so passionate about. But her passion was infectious, and she made him a believer about a great many things.

Lacey was a woman of passion and fierce determination. She stood up for her fellow students, some of them not even her friends, when a long tenured teacher was being unfair in terms of grading. She stood up against the dean of her college was raising parking rates when he promised not to. She dressed down the cocky quarterback of the college football team when he was talking smugly about cheating on his sweetheart of a girlfriend. And she did it without ever having to raise her voice or curse, speaking firmly and with fire and purpose. She was a girl who almost never cursed or lost her cool, even when she was at her most frustrated. Lacey was patient, sweet, and as kind as could be, but she was not one to be disregarded.

She'd stood up against a lot of really bad guys. Either old and cranky, rude and disrespectful, or blatantly corrupt.

But she'd never met anyone like Bruce.

He was the whole reason she was out so early in the morning. At the Christmas neighborhood meeting the night before she had promised to talk to him. He was being a bit of a Grinch, not doing anything to celebrate the holiday season when everyone else was. And this was a step too far for the young woman. Lacey loved Christmas! It was her favorite holiday. It combined everything she loved. Family. Joy. Kindness. Togetherness. Charity. Peace on Earth. And hey, even she wasn't above the joy at receiving presents. So, after this issue was brought to her attention, she said she would talk to the mean old man, and maybe convince him to at least participate in the fun and let a little joy and Christmas spirit into his heart.

Ever since she and her husband had moved into the area earlier in the year, they'd heard horror stories about this guy. They'd never actually talked to him, even though he lived two houses down from them on the other side of street. Apparently no one in the neighborhood got along with him, and whenever anyone tried talking to him he shut them down fast. He was notoriously unpleasant, and no one had a good thing to say about him. There were rumors about his past, none that could be substantiated. If he was divorced, if he had been in the military, if he had a criminal history, stuff like that. For the most part though, he kept to himself, and anything heard about him was gathered through the grapevine. And one of the things Lacey kept hearing was that he really became a real scrooge around Christmas, never decorating, never participating in any of the neighborhood events. Any attempts to include him were brushed aside very rudely. Any efforts to sneak some decorations onto his lawn were quickly and angrily destroyed. Clearly, he didn't want any part of the Christmas festivities, and to Lacey that just didn't make sense.

Because Christmas was the best.

So, she had this plan to talk to him as soon as she could, being that it was Christmas Eve, and any decorations she could convince him to put up would be last minute. But something would be better than nothing. She was very observant, so she knew what hours he typically worked, and she noticed quickly when he got home from work early in the morning. She knew the older man worked at the big 'North Pole' plant on the factory line, which explained his long hours, but it didn't align with his apparent hatred of all things Christmas. Nevertheless, she proceeded with her plan. She could see from her house that his car was in the driveway, so she opted to go over to his place now and maybe change his mind.

Clad in dark jeans, stylish snow boots, a purple poofy jacket, she made her way over. She had a cute beanie over her hair, one with little bangles hanging down, bouncing against her cheeks as she walked. As she made her way over she passed a pair of similarly bundled-up girls, looking very proud of themselves. Lacey smiled at them as they passed by. The wind was biting as she walked, and even though it was a short walk, she was already getting cold. Her gloved hands were stuffed in her pockets as she headed up towards Bruce's house.

It even looked foreboding, disregarding the man who lived there. Looking slightly run-down, with no lights and no decorations, it certainly wasn't approachable. Every other house in the neighborhood looked warm and inviting, despite their age, except this one. The paint was chipped. The wood looked worn. The blinds were closed, letting only a little light out from inside. The junky old-looking blue car in the driveway didn't help matters. Even the normally positive Lacey felt a small shiver of intimidation go through her.

But she was undeterred, and she marched up the snow-covered sidewalk up to the porch and up to the front door. Putting that bright, gorgeous smile on her face, wanting to present herself as nonconfrontational as she could, she pushed the doorbell button, and awaited the mean old man she'd heard so much about.

She'd only really seen him in passing, never having been formally introduced. She would wave when she saw him drive by, but he would never reciprocate. He was clearly hurting and lonely, so she figured that maybe a warm friendly face would get him to open up.

Hey, it was Christmas, the time for miracles. Wouldn't it be another to give a sad, angry old man a bit of light in his life? Let him know that he doesn't have to coop himself up. That he could put himself out there and be friends with people. Maybe he could make a new friend in Lacey, and then go from there.

Haha... she clearly didn't know what she was getting into.

Lacey smiled brightly as she heard some approaching footsteps from the other side of the door. The doorknob twisted, and the door was pulled open, and there in front of her stood the dreaded Bruce.

Lacey was surprised mostly by the fact that he was just a really big guy. Not fat, or anything like that, just really tall, and really built. He was like a brick wall, clad in work boots, thick denim jeans, and a red flannel shirt. Looking up at his face hidden in the shadows, Lacey got her first good look at him. Janet Winston had once described Bruce as 55 going on 70, and that much was true. He was an old man that carried himself like an even older man. Lacey couldn't imagine him as a younger person, like he was born 45. He... he wasn't exactly handsome, with sharp intimidating eyes, a big nose, scowling lips, and a bristly five-o-clock shadow. He had a short, straight military style haircut, black with specks of grey. That all being said, he did possess a gruff, square-jawed masculinity that did give him a certain appeal. But with the scowl affixed on his face at the young wife, there was little appeal to be had.

"What do you want?" he said brusquely, his voice deep and heavy but loud, his eyes clearly indicating his disinterest in whatever she had to say.

"Hi... I'm Lacey!" she said with pep. "I'm your neighbor! I was hoping to talk to you about Christmas decorations, and maybe if..." At this, he was immediately done with her, and quickly slammed the door in her face. She jumped in shock at this sudden move, and while she did feel a hint of intimidation, she was undeterred. Lacey reached forward and knocked on the door repeatedly with the side of her gloved fist, not stopping until she heard approaching footsteps. The door was ripped open suddenly, and there stood Bruce again, looking furious.

"What!?" he growled angrily, looking down at the shorter woman on his porch.

"I... I was hoping we could talk. About... about maybe you participating in the Christmas decorations. And then maybe you could fit in with the others in the neighborhood." Lacey stated with a kind smile. For a moment, they stood silent, her looking up at the ill-tempered older man as he looked her down.

"That sounds like those old buzzards talking," he said gruffly. "What are YOU doing here?" he said, looking her over. Appraising her.

"I wanted to talk about your Christmas decorations," she chirped again. "And maybe you don't get along with some of the other people in the neighborhood, but you've never talked to me, so I thought maybe you just needed to see a new friendly face to change your mind."

"Is this what you want to do right now?" he asked, as if he knew something she didn't. As if she was about to get into something she couldn't handle.

"Yeah! Of course!" she said, shrugging, not fully understanding the question.

His cold emotionless eyes looked at the friendly smiling face of hers, studying it for just a moment. Finally, his eyes twinkled with something she couldn't quite place, and he suddenly stepped back, opening his door to her. Smiling lightly, and a bit surprised, she stepped forward into the older man's home. Looking at the young wife as she stepped inside, he pushed the door shut, stared her down for a good long moment, and then stepped away, moving into the house. He walked in a very stiff manner, standing fully straight and tall, with no fluidity or laziness. Like a robot or a machine.

It was clear that this was a place that had never had a woman's touch, as it looked very much like a man's house. No frills. Few decorations. Practically everything there was for utility, not for show. This sparseness made her feel slightly nervous, as it felt so impersonal and unwelcoming. He remained silent as he led her deeper into his home, only adding to the tension of the moment.

They emerged into the living room, and it was very dim, sparse, and unwelcoming. There was an old, ugly, green couch in the center, with a big well-worn recliner on the far side of it. On the other side of the room was a short, wide wooden shelf which supported a large flat-screen TV, currently playing some action movie. The walls were scant like the rest of the house, and the floor was covered with an old looking brown carpet. Finding the house to be quite warm temperature-wise, Lacey pulled the winter hat off her head and pocketed it before unzipping her coat. As she did, she began looking around the house some more.

As Bruce moved towards his chair, Lacey realized she was in a spot in the house where she could see a bit of everything. The far side of the living room opened on the right to the kitchen, looking very empty, white, and as unflashy as possible. The dim light of an old bulb lit the room in an unwelcome light. On the opposite side of the living room, beyond the TV, was a hallway leading to the rest of the house. On the far end of the hall was a bathroom, and on either side of the hall were rooms. On one side was his bedroom, where a big dark black bed and some plain wooden dressers were set up. Opposite that was a room that appeared to be a small home gym, which housed a weight bench, a treadmill, and some other exercise equipment. On the walls were some posters, and from what she could see, they weren't so much decorative as they were pornographic photos of large breasted naked women. Lacey looked away, a little embarrassed to have seen something so private.

As she moved to look like she hadn't noticed the pictures hanging in the other room, her hand bumped into a stack of magazines on a table next to her, knocking them onto the floor. Feeling immediately like a fool for being so clumsy, she turned and bent over to pick up the stack of magazines. As she straightened them up and readied to put them back on the table, she realized she was holding a stack of magazines that were straight-up porn. Slightly grossed out, she stood up, put the magazines back where they were, and turned around to face Bruce, who had been looking at her during her clumsy moment and its aftermath. She could almost swear he was looking at her butt... no. No. Of course not. She must be mistaken.

She wasn't.

As she was kneeling to pick up the magazines, she had pushed her juicy, perfectly formed ass outwards, and it would take a blind man not to notice. And Bruce's vision was crystal clear. The gruff older man got a primo view of the young, married woman's rear end. Her jeans weren't obscenely tight, but in this position, her perfectly shaped ass molded to the denim, each round cheek highlighted, looking firm and perky and mouthwatering. The unpleasant old man had a view that most would kill for, a view that a man like him didn't deserve and clearly hadn't earned, but he was quick enough to avoid detection when she stood up, looking away just in time, proceeding onward.

Still silent, Bruce walked around his coffee table and moved towards the recliner, sitting back down on it. Lacey followed him into the living room, standing across the room so she was facing him directly. But he seemed unconcerned with her as he reached onto the table next to his chair. He picked up his phone, glancing at the new message waiting there, before grabbing his can of beer and taking a swig. His eyes staying on the TV, not even looking her direction, he finally spoke.

"You gonna just stand there?" he asked. He had a very assertive, forceful voice. Not necessarily loud, but enough to make you jump.

"What?" she asked, confused. From her position, she was looking at him from the side as he stared at the TV.

"You wanted to talk to me," he began, glancing at her for a moment before looking back at the TV. "So... talk." Realizing he was toying with her slightly, deliberately trying to make her uncomfortable, she screwed up her nerves and spoke up.

"Um, yeah, so the entire street here participates in the Christmas festivities every year, except for you, and we were hoping you might be convinced to take part." Lacey said.

"Christmas is a holiday for morons, children, and religious freaks," he announced gruffly, still watching the TV. "Are you a child?" He asked condescendingly.

"No..." she replied patiently, a bit taken aback by this sudden attack.

"Well, I don't see a cross around your neck, so..." he let those words hang, still not even looking at her, and she rolled her eyes a bit at the slight. But she'd dealt with old men like him who thought they could push around someone like her, and she wasn't gonna be denied. Undeterred, she spoke up, turning up the charm.

"How can you not feel Christmas spirit?" she asked brightly, with that heart-melting smile of hers. "You live in one of the Christmas capitals of the world! You work for, like, the biggest Christmas company in the world! I mean, I don't know what your history is with Christmas, and if there's some personal issue you have, that's fine, but I think it would help to talk it out, you know?"

He looked up at her and could barely hide the amused grin on his face. The smile on his face just looked strange, like a wolf's mouth watering at a juicy piece of meat. It was very off-putting.