HeartLove: why? what would happen otherwise?
It’s so much easier to flirt on-line than in real life. Still, I blush because I’m way out of my comfort zone. But it feels nice, I have to admit.
EasyDude: I’d ask you out, of course
HeartLove: maybe I’d say yes
EasyDude: I hope you would
HeartLove: what would we do?
EasyDude: we’d start by getting to know each other a little
EasyDude: I’d ask you questions about yourself
HeartLove: Like what?
EasyDude: Like…
EasyDude: what would you do if you had a million bucks? :)
I giggle a little. A million bucks? I’d probably fly to Aruba and book a week-long vacation on the beach. It’d be even nicer if I had someone to go with. I find myself suddenly wishing EasyDude didn’t live in Florida because if he’s from the Panhandle State, he’s gotta love warm weather, right? I’m just about to answer when Ying actually does text me, totally bringing me out of the moment. She wants to arrange our study session, as expected. I answer her with flying fingers, but by the time we’ve texted back and forth a few times, ten minutes have passed. Hope EasyDude’s still there.
HeartLove: If I had a million bucks, I’d like to travel the world for a bit. How about you?
But this time, he doesn’t answer. One minute ticks by, then another, and then another. With a sigh, I put my phone back down on the bed, pulling my bathrobe tighter around me as I stand up. Oh well. Maybe he’ll answer later. I resolve to start spending my day a little more sensibly: making pancakes for breakfast, and then meeting up with Ying for our study session. That’s good girl Janie getting back in the groove.
So with another sigh, my limbs start mobilizing. But as I leave the room, a roar sounds outside the window. Oh right. It’s Trent’s lawn mower being switched back on, and in the back of my mind I wonder why he took a break? Was it a pit stop? Or something more fun?
Oh well, sneaking one last peek at him from my window, I resolve to start my day. Because between EasyDude and my handsome neighbor, I’ve got my hands full … even if both are just make-believe.
5
Trent
My hands grip the lawn mower tighter as I push it effortlessly along the grass, enjoying the vibrations it sends up thru my arms. This whole gardening thing started out as just something to do after jail, but I’ve quickly grown to like it. Very much, in fact. Working with my hands, being outdoors all day, completing repetitive jobs, and not having to speak to anyone, has been the perfect way to keep my mind of things. This small town in Iowa is the perfect place to start over. Because everyone thinks they know the full story, and everyone is wrong, except for her.
I’ll call her Mary to make things easy. Mary told me she was eighteen, and when I’d teased her by wanting to see her ID, she’d whipped it out in a flash. How could I have known it was a fake ID? It’s not like I’m an expert at these things.
But it turns out that “Mary” was seventeen, for fuck’s sake. Just one month short of being legal. But I should have known better. After all, innocent young things have always been my weakness, like catnip for a hungry tiger. But what happened is what happened, and I guess I should count myself lucky. With no priors, I only got three months, and my attorney told me that was the best I could expect.
Still. Fuck. I did three months in the slammer for enjoying the body of a seventeen year-old girl. And I paid the price, for sure. I might have gotten away with it if her parents hadn't come home unexpectedly. Because what were her parents going to do when they came back early from their ski trip only to find a burly tattooed man twice their daughter’s age fucking her on their mahogany dining table? As far as they were concerned, she was a virgin, and I was a filthy rapist, no matter how she’d cried and screamed at them it had been her idea.
But it hadn't mattered: by enjoying an under-age girl, I’d broken the law. Luckily, along with my clean record, the sweet little thing’s truthful testimony, I got a reduced sentence.
And frankly, jail wasn’t so bad, not for a big guy like me. I kept my head down, worked out, and served my time. It had gone quick, actually. But I couldn’t go back home afterwards. My reputation was tainted because a conviction is a conviction, and people believe what they want to believe. And apparently, the people in my hometown, with a few exceptions, wanted to believe I was a rapist. My hardware business suffered heavily, and by the time I was out, the business was gone. I had nothing but bullshit to return to, plus a load of whispers and bad memories.
So this sleepy town was the perfect way to start over. With what money I had left, I bought a small house for myself and I’ve been working as a gardener in this hamlet. In my free time, I savor my independence, vowing never to be behind bars again.
And so far, it’s been good. I’ve only been here a few weeks, but no one bothers me. Except for that witch next door: that woman is so tan that she looks like a shriveled-up orange, with red, claw-like nails, and bleached blonde hair. I’m sure Vivian thinks she’s irresistible, but she’s absolutely not my type. And yet she keeps coming onto me. Winking suggestively when she’s unloading groceries, or knocking on my door late at night in her flimsy bathrobe, asking to borrow the proverbial cup of sugar. Bullshit. It’s clear she doesn’t eat, much less cook.
But the problem isn’t Vivian, it’s her daughter. Oh sure, Vivian’s closer to my age, but I can’t bring myself from noticing her daughter’s pale skin. And I love the big, brown eyes that dart innocently over to my property every time she’s near it, like a frightened deer that wants to graze on a dangerous meadow. Her full body is soft and delicious, her huge, soft tits swaying under her summer dress, her big thighs hiding her young pussy from my gaze. A pussy that I’m sure has never been touched by a man before. Her innocence suggests she’s probably not the type to lie back at night, pleasuring herself. I doubt she’d even know where to start, whereas I could think of a thing or two I could do to her to please her, easy.
But I’ve forced myself to put Janie out of my mind. She’s so pure, so innocent, so untouched. A dirty ex-con like me shouldn’t even look at a beauty like her, much less touch her. I’d ruin the woman from my vibes alone. She’s better off not knowing me, and so I ignore her. I act like she doesn’t exist, like she’s just some random neighborhood kid. Why should I care?
But it’s because I’m starting to get lonely. I hate to admit it. But the thought of having a beautiful girl to make love to each night is irresistible. Someone juicy and young to lay down and fall asleep next to. Someone gorgeous to look after and live for, and who would take care of me in return. Especially if that girl was a young, curvy, innocent little virgin like Janie next door. I’d treat her so well. I’d show her how it’s done. I’d make sure she never wanted for anything, whether that was a good hard fuck, cuddles and affection, or anything else her heart could desire.
But I’m not worthy of such a pure creature. She’s just a teenager, and why would she want a hardened ex-prisoner like me? She’s probably too busy fawning over boyband stars and the high school jock, some dude who tosses footballs every Friday night. No, I need to hunt elsewhere, and so I’ve signed up to this stupid ass dating app, ChatWorld. As an ex-con, what other options do I have? I don’t know anyone in this town, which was the whole point of moving here in the first place. And as a gardener, it’s not like I’m going get to know a lot of people. This app is the safest way to meet someone and maybe fool around a little. It’s just for fun and games. Nothing’s gonna come of it.
But I'm on thin ice here, too. There’s a girl I’ve been flirting with, who is so exactly my type that I got hard just by reading her description: curvy, huge tits and ass, and a brunette to boot. And of course, she’s a teenager. It’s so wrong, but I can’t help myself. Her profile says she’s eighteen, but I’ve been burned before and I just can’t go down that road again. It doesn’t help that this description fits that of the girl next door, but it must be a coinci
dence. An innocent young thing like Janie isn’t on-line, let’s face it. On-line hook-ups are for the dregs of society like myself.
But somewhere in Iowa is a curvy, innocent little teenage girl, and I’m not interested in finding out more. I lied to HeartLove and told her I lived in Florida, to take some of the pressure off. Because for now, I just want to talk a bit. It’s not like we’ll ever meet, right?
I finish the last patch of lawn and pull the cord, bending down to unhook the grass catcher. As I stand, I catch a glimpse of the girl next door through the window of their kitchen. The hedge dividing our houses is almost as tall as I am, so she hasn’t seen me, and I start turning away, intent on not being a creep spying on the teenage girl next door. But the way she’s standing there, flipping pancakes, so lost in her own thoughts is too precious. I’m enchanted. Her brown curls fall over her shoulders and her pink fluffy bathrobe is tied at the waist but those huge tits are not to be contained entirely. I watch her cleavage push together as she reaches forward to scoop the pancakes up from the pan and put them on a plate. Then she suddenly catches my eyes and I pretend to be pinching stray leaves off the manicured hedge, completing my pretended indifference in her with a dark scowl. I continue for a little longer, and when I glance back up, she’s gone. Serves me right. Janie probably thinks I’m the dirty old man who lives next door and wants to molest her … and she wouldn’t be that far from the truth.
6
Janie
As I scoop up my pancakes and put them on the plate, I glance up and my heart sends violent flutters through my chest. Because it’s Trent! He’s standing just on the other side of his hedge, snipping off stray leaves with a scowl. He always seems so angry and serious. I wonder what’s causing his bad mood, but I don’t want him to see me watching, so I grab my pancakes and get out of there.
Vivian is nowhere to be seen. She’s probably at the gym and then going for a tanning session, which is her usual routine each morning. I sit down to enjoy my pancakes in peace with a romance novel open on the table, but I can barely focus on the steamy scene before me. Because the time has come to admit it: tales of hung heroes are not enough anymore. My mind keeps wandering to Trent, and the way it would feel if he did those naughty things to me instead. I swallow the last of my pancakes, and try once more to focus on the words on the page. But it’s pointless because I just can’t sweep images of my gorgeous neighbor from my mind. There’s no point in hoping a guy that hot would be interested in a girl like me, but still, one can dream right?
Forcing myself back into reality, I decide to head back upstairs, where I’ve left my phone. Maybe EasyDude has replied by now? I find myself curious about him and wondering if he really does look the way he described himself. Not that it really matters, I guess. It’s not like we’re ever going to meet. But I do hope that a guy who says he looks like Trent really is on the other end of those messages. Plus, the fact that he thinks I’m hot is a big plus and I blush just remembering his words.
When I get upstairs, there’s a new message from EasyDude, and I grab my phone with bated breath.
EasyDude: how about starting with florida?
Wait, what’s he talking about? I have to scroll up to my previous message, in which I stated that if I had a million bucks I’d like to travel the world. For goodness sake, Janie, don’t be so boring! This is meant to be sexy, and that was not a sexy answer. Even if his question wasn't sexy, either. Time to spice things up if I'm going to forget about Trent and practice flirting a little.
HeartLove: sure, I don’t mind a little heat
That’s better.
EasyDude: you like the heat, hmmm?
EasyDude: so what’s the hottest thing you can think of?
Oh shit, the conversation is steaming up faster than I thought it would! What do I say?!
HeartLove: the hottest?
HeartLove: well, I like to take it slow
HeartLove: then build it up
EasyDude: I like that thought ;)
Phew, that was close. I’m so not ready to go there yet!
EasyDude: I know I’d kiss you first
EasyDude: I bet your lips are so full and soft
EasyDude: I’d let my tongue gently roll against yours
Oh, wow. Clearly, I have no control over this conversation. I can feel my face burning at the thought of it and go with things on a whim.
HeartLove: that sounds amazing
HeartLove: I’d want to be crushed up into your strong arms, let myself be taken over by you
Oh oh… too much?
EasyDude: I’d take you over baby, don’t you worry
Clearly not! Could it be he likes the kind of stuff I crave?
EasyDude: I’d do stuff you’ve never even heard of
EasyDude: I’d make you feel so good
Never heard of? What’s he talking about? I need to know.
HeartLove: like what? ;)
EasyDude: since I'm not there to do them to you, you’ll have to do them to yourself. I can describe them to you.
Oh my gosh. My heart beats in my throat and I can feel my hands getting shaky as I hold the phone. I clear my throat and sit up. I’m not scared but excited instead. My tits heave under my fluffy pink bathrobe as I take a moment to compose myself.
EasyDude: are you still there, gorgeous?
HeartLove: yes :)
HeartLove: sorry, I was just taken aback by your suggestion
Janie, you idiot, who says things like that?! And in a text, no less? This isn’t one of your romance novels, the voice inside scolds. But EasyDude doesn’t seem bothered by it at all.
EasyDude: we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to
I take a deep breath, heart pounding. I have to admit, I feel comfortable talking to him, like I can trust him, even if it’s based on next to nothing.
HeartLove: no, I do
HeartLove: I think
EasyDude: have you ever touched yourself before?
HeartLove: once
EasyDude: holy shit
What does he mean? Why is he so surprised?
EasyDude: sorry
EasyDude: it just really turns me on that you’re so innocent
Thank goodness! He likes me still. There’s a long pause before he texts again.
EasyDude: are you a virgin?
Oh god, the million dollar question. And it came so fast too. Do I tell him the truth? I figure I may as well because he’s probably already guesses it anyways. So I take a deep breath before typing my one-word response.
HeartLove: yeah
His response is immediate.
EasyDude: that’s so hot
EasyDude: would you touch yourself for me?
My heart’s racing but I text back. After all, it’s not like this is real. I could be watching TV. Or I could be a thirteen year-old adolescent boy screwing around with ChatWorld users just for kicks. But somehow, it feels real.
HeartLove: ok
HeartLove: where should I touch myself?
EasyDude: start with those huge tits of yours
EasyDude: rub your nipples
My heart beating, I open my pink bathrobe and pull the material aside to reveal my big, milky jugs.
EasyDude: describe your nipples to me
I look down and my face flushes as I start typing back.
HeartLove: they’re pink and big and soft
EasyDude: mmm they sound delicious
EasyDude: make them hard for me. rub them
HeartLove: ok
I put my phone down on the mattress next to me and start exploring my nipples with my fingertips. I gasp at the immediate reaction in my pussy as it clenches in lust. My nipples go from soft, round, large pink petals to tiny, hard, little pebbles.
HeartLove: oh god, that feels so good
EasyDude: keep going, play around with them a little until you can’t take it anymore
EasyDude: then put your hand down your panties
I’m breathing heavily now, my t
its heaving under my touch as I pinch and pull my nipples, feeling the cream lubing up in my pussy for a cock that won’t be coming. I need something in there. I can’t describe it or know how I know this, but I have a sudden need to be filled up so hard that it hurts. I do as EasyDude says and put my hand down my panties.
HeartLove: my hand is in my panties now
EasyDude: dirty girl, I like it nasty like that, you just couldn’t wait, could you?
HeartLove: no
EasyDude: describe your pussy
HeartLove: it’s so wet and slippery
HeartLove: but I feel alone in this
EasyDude: don’t you worry baby, I’m touching myself too. thinking of you playing with your huge tits and your fingers in your tight wet little pussy
He is? What’s he doing? The thought of Trent pleasuring himself in the pool comes back to mind, and I push it away. This is a different guy altogether, and I can’t get my wires crossed. But there’s no harm in having fun, right? So I type a suggestion.
HeartLove: describe your cock to me
EasyDude: it’s huge and hard thinking of you. I’m stroking it, pretending it’s your tight pussy squeezing it, and not my hand
My pussy spasms under my fingers at the thought of his cock inside me, and I know I need some kind of release for this building pressure.
HeartLove: I wish it were you here. That would feel so good.
EasyDude: then dip one finger into your pussy and pretend it’s me
EasyDude: use the juice to slide over your clit while you think about my cock
HeartLove: ok
Trembling, I do as he says. Careful not to go too deep - I’m not ready for that yet – slowly, I dip one finger into my drenched pussy. My finger now slimy and warm, I bring it up to my clit and roll the hard nub a bit. Oooh, that feels amazing. It was good when I was watching Trent, but this is even better. EasyDude is involved in the hot play and is telling me what to do. I run my slimy finger over my clit and moan immediately. Holy shit, that’s amazing. I stroke it faster and faster, then in circles, vaguely aware of my hips making desperate grinding movements. I’m breathing faster and faster. Then another message beeps.
The Neighbor Next Door Page 3