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Community Involvement Ch. 01

Neighbours for years but never kissed
I am just an average kind of guy trying to make my way in the world. Atfifty-five, I keep myself in good shape and I often have people, usually females (which are flattering), comment that I look in my late thirties. I have to laugh when males say that they are envious of my slight but athletic build and wish they had a flat stomach like me. I put it down to metabolism and their over indulgence in the amber fluid. That is not saying I do not drink. Some would say I drink like a fish but fortunately, I do not stack on the kilos. I am also lucky enough to be able to work from home and it was because of this last aspect that what follows transitioned from my wildest fantasy to an amazing reality. I hope you too enjoy the journey.

***

Michelle had been the object of my licentious mind ever since she and her family moved in next door some fifteen years ago. I remember being in what is their house now, during an open house inspection, prior to their purchasing the property. We (my wife and I) were a bit disappointed with the owner (she had the place rented out previously and was selling to take the profit) as we would have made her an offer if we had known it was on the market. A week earlier would have made all the difference, but, as it was, this was the final open house before the off-site auction on the Monday.

I was standing looking out of the large bay windows at the back of the lounge area when she walked in from the hallway, which leads to the front entrance. I had my back to them as I scanned the pool area but something made me turn around, some kind of sixth sense I will call it. The whole room seemed to light up when I saw her blonde hair and tanned face. Somehow, I knew they would be the buyers.

The years have moved on, and whilst we have been neighbours for all that time, we do not socialise on a regular basis like some neighbours do. I have a sneaking suspicion is has a bit to do with some sort of jealously on my wife’s part, but that is all I will say on that front.

Back to Michelle. She is quite attractive; petite, feminine build, about 5’ 4” tall, her features and figure do make you look twice if not a third time. Maybe it is her now mousy-blonde shoulder length hair combined with her well looked after figure, her pert rounded breasts and her bright smile. I know from personal knowledge that her bust size is 34C.

How do I know? Well, I had to climb over the fence into their yard one time to retrieve my daughter’s netball. It had rolled across their yard and stopped under their clothes line and Michelle had some of her under garments hanging on the line, so I took a look at the labels. You have to take advantage of some opportunities when they arise, don’t you?

To put a further perspective on Michelle and how she looks, a neighbour across the road recently commented to me that even after three children, Michelle had a good figure and was not showing any signs of her age. I agreed but I do know from personal observation she is starting to show some signs of ageing, particularly around the eyes. However, at the end of the day, if you took a poll, she would definitely rate in the desirable MILF category.

Enough background etc. and now onto the main feature, as it were. I had noticed over a period of weeks just after New Year that one of the brake lights on her car were not working, but every time I thought to say something she was either out, or I simply forgot, or both. As the days and weeks slipped by, I dropped the notion of telling her, thinking that her husband would have probably fixed it. However, to my surprise one sultry humid Monday morning (it still being the height of summer in Sydney), I saw that he had not. I was out in the front yard retrieving the garbage bins when she drove off with her son and, as she braked at the roundabout down the street, I noticed only one of the three stoplights activated.

I filed that piece of information away for later use, hoping to get the opportunity to say something to her. Later on, as I was labouring away in my upstairs office, the windows open to try to catch what breeze there was, if any (and my concentration waning), I suddenly heard the sound of a car door closing. I peeked out the window and it was Michelle. Normally I would have just resumed my work but something was compelling me to act. I glanced at the clock; it was close to 1pm. I quickly swilled some mouthwash to quell any onion breath from lunch, straightened the hair and raced downstairs. I took a deep breath to calm myself as I opened the door and nonchalantly walked toward our front gate as if checking the mail.

“Hi Michelle,” I called as I stepped off the veranda and took a few small steps more.

She smiled at the sound of my voice. “Hi Ray, how’s it going?” Turning, she hastily moved toward her front door and deposited the carry bags she had in each hand. I thought for a moment she was going to go straight in but to my surprise, she returned to the boot of her car.

“Sorry, they were heavier than I expected.” She sighed. ”Phew, isn’t it hot? I don’t mind the heat but this humidity... I hate it.”

Seeing her return to her, I quickly moved toward the low, three brick high border fence that ran along the boundary at this point.

“Me too. It makes any exertion that much harder.”

In fact, it was extremely hot standing there, in the direct sun, which arched down on us between our homes. Michelle was squinting as a result and I noticed a small drop of perspiration run down her neck, across her upper chest and disappear inside her pale yellow top. My eyes followed the drop as it coursed down, then, realising I was staring, I looked away embarrassed. She must have felt the trickle or was made aware of it by my staring because she brushed her throat slowly with her hand and wiped it away.

“How is the house clearing going?” I asked, knowing she was in the process of clearing her recently deceased mother’s house.

“Oh you know,” she laughed dismissively. “Some days good, some days bad, others extremely hard. You know what it’s like.”

I did, having had to do the same for my mother only the previous year. She looked on the verge of tears so I quickly tried to change the subject.

“Oh, before I forget, I have some magazines for you.” I quickly stepped up onto the veranda and picked up the bundle of glossy magazines I had set aside during the previous weekends clean-up. “They are a bit on the heavy side being full glossy productions. You could even use them as work out material if you like, as an alternative”. Michelle laughed her distinctive, rather loud, laugh come cackle. I took this as a positive sign as I had heard this same laugh many times previously coming from their deck / outdoor entertainment area, as it usually indicated Michelle being in very good humour.

“Oh Ray! These are great. Wow, they are heavy... but greatly appreciated. Thank you.” She moved toward me a little to give me a kiss on the cheek, so I did likewise, and we both lent across the low fence and she gave me a quick peck on each cheek. As she leaned back, I noticed her top had gapped a little and was disappointed not to have been able to get a better look. We nattered on and I could tell from the way she spoke that she was touched and genuinely pleased with my little gift.

“Oh, these will certainly come in useful,” she exclaimed, flicking through the top one.

The magazines were getting heavy as she still holding all four of them, so she bent forward to place the bundle on top of the low fence and consequently her top gapped again, this time providing me a perfect view deep inside. My eyes locked in, admiring the slight tanned colour of her skin and upper breasts, the frequency of freckles on her chest, which diminished gradually the further into her cleavage I looked and the way her breasts filled the flesh coloured padded bra she wore. I wondered how far from the edge of her bra where her nipples and if her freckles continued to the underside of her luscious globes.

“The engaged ones, that’s my pet term for my son and his fiancée,” she said straightening, “are in the process of choosing dates and venues etc, so these will give them additional food for thought.”

“Nothing like looking at things that provide food for thought,” I added, as she looked me straight in the eye. I got the impression she was trying to determine if my comment was just a comment or if there was more to it. She smiled warmly and pushed a strand of her hair back from her eye. My eye line dropped so I could pay attention to the outlined curve of her breasts through the taut material of her top. She had picked up one of the thick magazines and weighed it in her hands. I was desperately hoping she would bend over again and pick another up.

Noticing the way she held the magazine I commented, “As soon as they were decreed ‘no longer required’ I immediately thought of you.”

“That was very kind of you,” Michelle said, looking at me with the tops of her eyes without lifting her head as she looked at the cover.

“I’m glad they’re going to a good home.” We both laughed.

Michelle leaned forward again to swap selections and picked up the other thick glossy edition. Her top gapped wonderfully again and this time I noticed Michelle looked toward the ground as she did, which gave me the distinct impression that she was making sure it gapped for my hungry eyes. She shuffled the magazines a little, another seemingly deliberate move to prolong my viewing pleasure inside her top. The skin of her breasts curved into the valley created by the cupping of her bra. I marvelled at her glorious mounds, the way they slightly swayed, concaving a little at her chest then spilling quickly into the cups. I could only enjoy the sight and wondered if there was even an outside chance of an opportunity to delve into her deep cleavage, up close and personal.

“They certainly look great,” she said just before standing. I was not sure if it was a double entendre but it certainly seemed that way.

“They certainly do,” I agreed smiling with my eyes riveted to her chest. My mouth had gone dry at this point and my groin was getting restless as I replayed the recent vision in my mind.

“I had best be getting on,” she said quickly picking the bundle from the fence top. In spite of the quickness of her movement, I still got another short glimpse of her breasts. It was wonderful titillation; pardon the pun.

“Oh, before I forget again. I noticed that your brake lights on the passenger side are out. I have been meaning to mention it to you but ...” I blurted, realising she about to conclude our chat and my wanting to prolong it.

“Oh really! I had better get my husband to see to them on the weekend. He is away at the moment otherwise I would call him and tell him.” Again, her tone of speech told me that she was touched and genuinely pleased with my thoughtfulness.

“I can give them a look over if you like? I have to go to the service station myself,” I lied, “and I can get the new bulbs while there and replace them for you. It’s no trouble.”

“Would you?” She smiled one of her beaming smiles, she was quite a 'looker' and that smile could make butter melt.

“I still have some bags to take in,” she indicated by pointing to the heavy ones already on the front door step. I offered to help.

“No, I am fine. The heavy ones are over there, as you can see, and the rest is light stuff, but thanks again. I definitely need a long cold drink to clear the dust though. How about you come over in about fifteen minutes?”

Reassuring her is was no problem to attend to the lights I, on impulse, made a bold suggestion.

“Given it is such muggy day, how about we share some white wine, after I finish? I have a bottle on the fridge that I would like to try.”

I went to hop over the fence but Michelle stopped me by raising her hand. She stepped forward and flipped me the keys.

“If I knew you'd be so inexpensive I'd have hired you a lot earlier," she laughed. “You may as well start when you can and then we can have that drink. No need to bring your bottle, I think I have enough here, but thanks for the offer. You can let yourself in after you’re done, I’ll leave the front door open.”

Getting the old globe out was not difficult. Getting a new one was. The servo just up the road had sold out, as had the one up on the main road. I was on the city bound side of the main road by now and could not think of where to try next. Then I realised that I was not far from a Japanese spares outlet but it was on the other side of the road, which meant I had to drive around the world to get to it as there were no right hand turn areas for another two kilometres. Then I had to get into some side streets, as there was no parking available out front. Overall, by the time I got back and replaced the globes, an hour had gone by. I was feeling a bit annoyed about that as it was time alone with Michelle that was being eaten into.

I knocked lightly on the open front door to announce my entry not wanting to simply barrel on inside.

“I had nearly given up on you,” she said turning around with a platter of cheeses and dips in hand. I apologised and explained what had happened, and offered to take the platter. Michelle, being the good host, quickly told me to forget it, thanked me for my offer, and told me to go and make myself comfy out on the newly renovated deck. I did as I was told, instantly marvelling at the change. The area was huge with a fixed roof and decorated as if it were an outdoor extension of the internal lounge room. I was impressed with the detail and the finish.

Michelle soon emerged with two glasses and a wine cooler in one hand and bowl of corn chips in the other. While I was away, she had showered and changed into a white lacy sleeveless top, which had a deep V-neck line, and fitted snuggly to the swell of her breasts and the curves of her body. The white top was paired with navy three quarter Lycra pants which also snuggly embraced her womanly curves.

“A delightful dish,” I thought to myself and smiling inwardly at the silly culinary pun.

To place the items she bore on the table Michelle lifted them over the back of the chair and then leaned forward to deposit them. From my seated position, I was not afforded the same view deep within her top as before but I certainly got a decent view of the top swell of her breasts. I was thankful for small mercies.

“I hope you like Sav Blanc?” she asked moving the corn chips closer for me to reach. As she asked, Michelle gently pushed the chair she had to manoeuvre around aside with her hip. She then started to arrange the table to her satisfaction. To my satisfaction, she had to reach further, and as such, had to bend further. Her top gapped even more and this time, not only could I see her chest and cleavage I could see the fullness of her now braless bosom. I could even see the dark pink rim of her aureoles and the nub of her nipples.

“I like them,” I blurted without thinking. “Sav Blanc, I mean. From New Zealand is it?” My embarrassment rising, just like my penis.

“I thought you might,” she smiled warmly. “Yes, the wine is from the Marlborough region.”

Michelle was still busy setting the table as she leaned over deeply again.

“See if you like these?”

She was offering me a small bowl of black olives but we both knew my eyes were focused directly down her neckline. I marvelled at the gentle sway of her breasts, their slight concave shape as they came away from her chest and the sweet rounded fullness of shape they took on as the freckled flesh spread toward those cute looking nipples. I suddenly realised I was not just staring but also ogling like a school boy. Backing my attention away for her lush upper body, reluctantly I have to add, I reached for an olive.

“Beautiful,” I said as I placed it in my mouth and looked her straight in the eye.

Michelle beamed a smile at me and sat at the head of the table. I was seated just around the corner and when she pulled her chair in and relaxed, I felt the soft sensation of her knee against mine. I suddenly wished I had thought of changing out of my daggy navy work around the house shorts and slightly shabby T-shirt. I trembled at her touch. Here I was sitting next to a beautiful woman, my neighbour for fifteen years, with whom I had only previously exchanged casual conversation over the fence. Now I was seated next to her having seen more of her, literally, in the last couple of hours than I could have ever dreamed about.

I closed my eyes and quickly opened them again to make sure I was not dreaming. Nope, there she was and her knee was still resting against mine as well. We clinked glasses toasting the afternoon and she expressed her thanks to me yet again and her appreciation for all my kindness. I drank deeply, looking at her over the rim of my glass. Michelle was in her late forties I guessed but I could not stop admiring all the curves that she possessed; with a start I realised that I was finding her more attractive with every minute that was passing, and it was not because of the wine.

We drank, ate, laughed and chatted about all sorts of things and nothing in particular. All the while her knee was pressed firmly against mine leaving me in a state of quandary not knowing whether to place a hand on her knee or not. It has always been a failing of mine not acting on impulse in these situations but I was simply scared to make any sudden advance lest I break the magic that was enveloping us at this time. I told myself to go for it, to follow her lead, but just as I was about to, I got cold feet and stopped. My thoughts were racing and my penis had been like a fiddlers elbow all afternoon. I was feeling confused and getting anxious, I needed a bit think time. I just hoped she did not notice my erection.

“If you can excuse me for a moment, I need to use the bathroom.”

“I take it you know where it is?” she asked.

“Yes," I answered and explained I had noticed it when I came in.

As I returned, I had resolved to follow her lead. To pounce as Sally Bowles recommended, in the movie Cabaret. While I was away, Michelle had opened a second bottle and refilled our glasses.

“Nice package,” she commented as I sat down, her knee making contact with mine the moment I sat down. I blushed, I am sure, or at least it felt like it.

“Your six pack,” she added leaning forward and patting my stomach. I was in such a state of anxiety that I was sweating and my T-shirt had stuck to my ribs exposing a bit of my stomach.

I covered her hand with mine and gently raised it to my lips and kissed the back of her hand. “Thank you for the compliment but I would still like to lose about five kilos.” I placed her hand back on my knee and raised my T-shirt as I spoke. “See, still a bit wobbly,” I laughed.

“What?” She was astonished to hear me make such a comment. “You? Lose five kilos? There would be nothing left of you.” We laughed together. “Well, this would still be there?” Her hand had moved. It now rested squarely on my cock. “This is a nice package too.”

I tried to swallow but my throat had gone dry. My cock twitched under her gentle fingers at which she smiled even more. My penis was throbbing as were my temples. In fact, my whole being seemed to have a pulse and it was pounding. The outside world disappeared; there was only Michelle and I. I looked at her intently and leaned forward to caress her breast.

“Not now Ray. Our children will be arriving home all too soon and as much as I would welcome your touch ...” Her comment remained unfinished as a slight look of sadness passed over her face and her hand released its hold on my cock.

“I am sorry Michelle. If you want me to go I will?”

The sadness had passed as quickly as it arrived and she beamed at me again. “Sorry for what?”

“I don’t know,” I said laughing. “It just seemed the right thing to say.”

She leant back in her chair to stretch. The sun caught her hair and it was like an aurora about her, such a brilliant image I thought, using my photographer’s eye. I told her so and she laughed heartily, and I noticed a slight blush cross her cheeks. As she straightened and reached for her glass, I felt her hand return to my knee and rise to embrace my penis again.

“Let’s just keep this moment in my hands, literally,” she whispered, now massaging the length of my throbbing penis through my shorts. “Just relax and enjoy.”

I moved to undo the button at the waist but she said no, just in case her son came in sooner than expected. At least this way nothing would be too out of place.

I leaned back, her hand snaking along the length from my aching balls to the ever-increasing sensitive head. I must have groaned aloud because she urged me not to make too much noise for the sake of the neighbours. We both laughed.

We both took another sip of wine, as she moved her hand back down to me knee, then lightly trailed her nails long my thigh and back to my cock. She wrapped the half-fist of her hand, thumb up, around my shaft, and began a very basic, almost primitive, up and down stroke. With her thumb pointing straight up, she applied extra pressure to the ultra-sensitive spot below the head of my cock. As she slowly, gently, and exquisitely massaged her soft, beautiful fingers up and down the shaft of my enclosed shaft, the soft pad of her thumb stroking back and forth on the sensitive spot which caused me to groan with each caress. The more she stroked, the tighter her fist squeezed my shaft, and the more intense her strumming on my sensitive of spots became.

My eyes were locked on her dreamy blue eyes, and then on her slender fingers and her bright red fingernails as she stroked and played me like an orchestral instrument and each moment produced an exquisite feeling deep in the pit of stomach. She stroked, slowly, deliberately, but gradually faster and faster. Pre-cum oozed out of me and I could feel the growing dampness against my flesh.

My breathing became faster and shallower, my legs began to twitch and her breathing echoed mine. I was sweating profusely while my heart pounded out a desperate beat, that rhythm that grows with the need to come. I glanced at this beautiful woman, masturbating me ever closer to the edge and I could see her breasts jiggle in time with her strokes and her hard nipples pointing through her top.

My buttocks clenched and I told her I was close. Her face took on an even sterner look of concentration as she drove me closer and closer to a beautiful ending. Finally, mercifully, I felt myself pass the threshold of inevitability, and knew that I was about to ejaculate. She sensed it as well and felt it, as my balls tightened and my shaft swelled, the rapidity of her stroke increased. I gritted my teeth, and my head lolled back, my eyes trying to stay open so that I could watch this beautiful neighbour of mine as she brought me to a fabulous climax.

I grunted aloud as the first spurt of semen erupted out from my cock. It blasted along the crease of my left hip and pooled there. She kept pumping me as a second eruption and then a third followed and increased the massing wetness in the shorts. I was pulsing like a cut vein, the pounding of my heart resounded in my ears as the final gushes spewed out. My cock was covered with my hot liquid and the wetness was now evident through my shorts and growing in size. Breathless, I looked into her face and softened my grip on the arms of chair. She was smiling broadly, a certain sense of satisfaction of a job well done showing in her eyes.

“That is a lot of fluid you have down there,” she said gently patting my softening member.

I was still too breathless to respond. Michelle fingered the wet patch and made little circles with her fingertips causing me to jump. She smiled warmly at my reaction to her contacting my over sensitive spots. With a look of self-satisfaction growing more broadly Michelle slowly raised her finger and licked it clean.

“I guess you could call that payment in full for services rendered,” she said in an offhand way, taking a final drink of wine.

I pushed my chair back and stood, making sure I pulled my T-shirt down to try to hide the large wet patch. She looked at my shorts and then up at me, her look questioning what I was doing.

Quickly and maybe a little more forcefully than I had wanted, I knelt and moved into her, encircling her in my arms and kissing her fiercely on the mouth. She tried to break away at first but soon realised I was not meaning her harm. Thankfully she relaxed and our tongues collided. I released my grip, her arms wrapped about my waist and our passion boiled into a lingering embrace.

I broke away slightly, looking deeply into her now smouldering eyes.

“I would say that was only a down payment, madam.”

“Hmmm, I think I might have short paid you,” she cooed. “I think the gentleman should take his leave for now, but rest assured I always pay my debts.”

“Looks like I will have to open an account for you that contains many pages,” I said before gently kissing her again. I moved my hand to the arm of the chair in which she was sitting as if to rise from my kneeling position. She turned slightly to face me providing me with one last opportunity so I pounced. I engulfed her breast in my hand squeezing the full rounded ripeness of her breast through her top. She gasped slightly and then gently removed my hand and kissed it.

She sighed, entwined her fingers in mine, and looked at me. She smiled radiantly and I was drawn into her like a moth to a flame. We kissed tenderly until we both knew it was time to part.

“Now, be off with you, wretch,” she said laughing and playfully spanked my behind as she showed me out the door.

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