NEIGHBORS by Jay Hughes
© 2001
Thinking back, it wasn't that cold, was it?
I'd scraped the frost off the inside of the front
window and saw the tall, slender woman struggling with the box.
She was moving in next door. I didn't get much of a look at her.
The frost, you see. That and that massive coat she was wearing.
But she looked sexy enough for me to get off my ass
and venture out into the snow to help her.
"Moving in, I see."
She looked at me with that boy-are-you-stupid stare
and sat the box down on the icy front step that led to the little
two-bedroom bungalow that had sat empty since October when old Granny
Watkins decided, probably against her will, to join that bridge
foursome in heaven.
I tried to smile through my chattering teeth, deciding
any neighbor was better than nothing and that this one, if I used
any brains at all, would be far better than anything else on the
block. "Need some help?" I muttered. "If so, I gotta go back in
and get a coat."
The sexy one mentally flipped me off. "If you'd planned
to help, why didn't you wear a coat in the first place?"
Rather than debate her, I ran back indoors, found
my old wool coat and emerged, eager to prove I wasn't a complete
idiot. I slipped on the ice and fell flat on my ass.
She laughed.
As the weeks went on, I saw less and less of her,
occasionally glimpsing out when I heard a car door. Sometimes, I'd
see her leaving. At other times, somebody was coming to visit, usually
one particular woman. We didn't communicate.
As the weather warmed, I'd see the sexy one leave
the house dressed in tight jeans and a jacket. She had a perfect
ass and I couldn't wait until spring when - I hoped - she'd start
wearing something a little more revealing.
One day in particular, I daydreamed about that and
sat at the window, watching her clean the inside of her car. I think
it took me four, perhaps five minutes to get my nuts off. I grin
in the mirror when I think what she would have thought if she'd
known I was sitting on the edge of the couch, jacking off while
she wiggled that tight ass in front of me.
I often wonder if women realize they're having that
effect on men. Sure, women know guys jerk off but it's to that naked
blonde in the magazine, not a real woman.
Sexy Neighbor was magazine quality, whether she realized
it or not.
As April came and went, I spent a little more time
outdoors and, through the course of events, had the opportunity
to even say hello to her. She had one of those deep voices, real
sexy É the kind that would make you hard if she whispered in your
ear: "I gotta sneeze."
Then came the day the Buick pulled into her driveway.
A day later, it was still there. A week later, still there. It belonged
to that particular woman I'd seen off and on in January.
Spring being what it is, you'll get that occasional
thunderstorm. As fortune would have it, a boomer struck one night
and separated our wiring from the transformer. I sat there in the
dark, waiting for the lights to come back on when the knock at the
door brought me to my senses.
It was Sexy. "You got lights?"
My turn. "Yeah, I just don't like to use them much
at night." I invited her in, held the flashlight so she wouldn't
trip over my newly acquired old ottoman and told her she could sit
anywhere.
"Sarah and I are a little frightened of the dark,"
she told me in that deep, damn-I-wanna-fuck-you voice.
"I guess nightfall is a bitch," I said, waving the
flashlight at the ceiling before deciding whether to entertain her
with shadow rabbits.
"By the way, I'm Lois."
"I'm Jay. Have we met?"
"Would you like to come over?" She stood and ran her
hands through her hair. "We'd feel better if somebody else was around."
Since Lois hadn't been overly friendly in the five
months we'd been neighbors, I tried to focus on the images: A plain
old thunderstorm, a not-so-rare power outage and two adult women,
afraid of the dark. "Is it safe?"
"Safe for what?" Her voice had a little quiver in
it, which made it seem sexier than ever.
"You ain't gonna tie me up in the cellar, are you?"
I shined the flashlight in her face and she turned her head away.
"Men are such assholes."
"Maybe, but we ain't afraid of the dark. I bet Sarah
sent you over for sugar and you forgot to ask how much. That means
you're stallin' for time. OK, I'll come over till the lights come
back on. See if you can feel around there for my sneakers."
"Which direction?"
"To the right, I think. Sniff around.. They're old."
She found the sneakers, flipped them in my direction
and headed for the door. I held the flashlight for her. She thanked
me.
Nice girl.
We waited out the emergency, chatted awhile about
our jobs and long-term objectives should we get lucky enough to
win the lottery É and decided to become better neighbors.
It's important to remember that when neighbors vow
to become better neighbors, they usually have their fingers crossed
behind their backs. Better safe than stupid.
But it worked. I said hello to Lois every day and
waved to Sarah every evening. Lois began to wear tight shorts and
tee shirts and she was pretty good about letting me stare at her.
Sarah, always the practical one, just went braless every afternoon.
Did I mention she had big knockers? She was a little shorter than
Lois, about five-two, and kept her blonde hair cut short.
Lois, the brunette, was naturally curly. I wondered
if that was an all-over thing. Hey, a guy wonders É.
As summer wore on, I helped the women with their lawn
work, gave them tips on which tampon was the most effective and
made plans for the big event of the season.
They'd invited me to a cookout.
I pondered catsup brands, ribbed-versus-smooth condoms
and charcoal É and waited for Saturday evening. It had been a soggy
summer and the mosquitoes sucked. As the day wore on, I wondered
if Lois sucked and, if not, whether Sarah did. We had only discussed
sex in long poetic verse, and never once did I blurt out: Would
either of you girls like to give me a blow job?
Of course, I am the guy who fell on his ass trying
to help Lois with a box full of dishes.
I didn't know Lois and Sarah were lesbians.
"We're lesbians," Sarah said after dinner.
I nodded. Men know about lesbians, read about them
and sometimes hear them on television talk shows. Nobody lives next
door to them. I'm still a little fuzzy about how the topic even
came up in our post-dinner chat, and I'm sure it had nothing to
do with my constant staring at Sarah's incredible tits. Lois may
have given Sarah a hint when she noticed I was eating her out with
my eyes while she did the dishes.
I decided to get to the heart of the matter. "I always
said I'd like to have a lesbian for a girlfriend," I said over my
can of beer.
Sarah laughed. "Men are such assholes," she giggled
to Lois, who nodded and joined us at the table.
"That's not why you're lesbians, is it?" I asked.
Lois kicked me in the shins from under the table.
And that's when our friendship began.
Curiously, the topic of their sexuality didn't come
up again despite our regular conversations and frequent trips to
the mall and to the grocery. Me, at the mall?
Hey, I felt honored to be in their company and, knowing
neither of them would fall for me, grew comfortable in the notion
that neither would break my heart, drain my bank account or ask
me to wash the kitchen windows. Two out of three ain't bad. I did
help them with the windows.
As the relationship grew, I found I was more comfortable
in their company than I was with Jill, my part-time fuck. Better
yet, Sarah and Lois grew to know me as a friend, not an asshole.
We began to relate.
We did turnabout at Halloween. I dressed as a woman.
If I were one, I'd become a man, just to avoid pantyhose.
And as winter set in, I made a down payment on a couple
of nice diamond pendants.
On New Year's Eve, we gathered for a toast and as
midnight neared, I felt better about myself than I had in years.
I sat there on the couch, staring at the Christmas tree, listening
to the wind howl outside and wondering É I had a passing thought
about Jill É wondering who she was screwing this night.
"Have you ever thought about É what it's like?" Lois
said over the soft Christmas music. That sexy voice sounded so sweet.
At times, I tried to forget her relationship with Sarah, wishing
I had her all to myself, listening to her coo in my ear.
"About what?" I came back to reality.
"What Sarah and I do?"
I shook my head. Maybe I was an asshole, after all.
"Do what? Like, as in É"
"Sex."
"Yeah, that. Well, I guess you just do what you can
with what you have available." I'd never actually seen Lois and
Sarah making out with each other, though they'd hold hands at times,
hug once in awhile and tickle each other. They didn't grope. They
were both in their thirties, so I presumed they had decided to act
like adults.
"Would you like to watch?" Lois asked me. Her dark
eyes pierced through me.
I could tell she was serious and I think I swallowed
my teeth. "What am I supposed to say? Like, put on a show for me,
girls?"
Lois motioned Sarah into the room. "Would you like
to watch Sarah and I make love to each other? You have to be wondering."
I shrugged. My hearbeat quickened. I guess I had been,
but since I never expected to be given a performance, I'd left that
up to them. I mean, a woman licks another woman's pussy and that's
it, right? Or she uses a tool of some kind, or her finger. "Now
that you mention it," I said, "I have." Hell, what else was I going
to say? I really did want to see them do each other. I may be an
asshole, but I am not a fool.
Sarah slid onto Lois's lap and delivered a monster
kiss on the lips.
Lois put her hand on Sarah's incredible tits and started
stroking them. Then she put a hand in Sarah's crotch.
Sarah sat back and sighed.
I slid onto the floor and let them have the couch.
Lois slid a hand up under Sarah's blouse and jiggled
away at her lover's tits. Finally, Sarah slid out of the blouse
and rammed her boobs into Lois's face.
I felt my mouth go dry. So far, a good huggy-bear,
kissy-tit performance, but nothing X-rated.
Until Lois slid onto the floor, onto her knees between
Sarah's legs and slid Sarah's skirt up around her waist.
I was glad Sarah wasn't wearing panties because the
show started almost immediately.
How Sarah was able to get her legs up over Lois's
shoulders is a mystery, but she was so adroit that I barely noticed
it had happened.
Sarah made indescribably sexy sounds as Lois, apparently
adept at finding her sweet spot, just made it happen.
I fixed my eyes on Sarah. The almost torrid passion
in her facial expression told me this was genuine lovemaking, not
just a girl eating a pussy. Sarah had yielded completely to Lois.
She was absorbing the moment. She was lost in a kind of sexuality
a guy only imagines can happen to a woman.
I don't think a guy can pull that off.
I never did, even though Jill moaned a lot when we
screwed.
I just sat there, rocking back and forth, savoring
this experience. I think I lost my breath when Sarah reached her
climax.
"Wow," I said.
Lois turned to me. "I won't ask you how you feel."
"I won't tell you," I said. "And I am not about to
ask Sarah anything right now."
Sarah just groaned.
"I guess I have to wonder what happens to you now,"
I said to Lois.
She smiled. "What makes you think something didn't?"
I moved my feet around on the floor, probing my mind
for some rational response. "I guess I just assumed you'd have Sarah
do that to you."
Lois giggled and tapped me on the wrist. "That's the
problem with men. They aren't in touch with themselves."
I laughed. "No, men mostly just get up, get in, get
off and get going."
Sarah muttered something about getting off, and I
tried to sympathize with her. She seemed so worn, so frazzled.
I gave the moment its due respect, got up off the
floor and went to my coat. I brought out the diamond pendants.
Lois stood and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Sarah
sat up and worked her way to her feet. She gave me a kiss on the
other cheek.
I slid across the snowy front lawn, back to my own
little house, the one with the frosty front window. As New Year's
Day dragged on, I wondered: Are those real roses on that float?
