It’s not like I live in a tight-knit neighborhood. There are no community outings, barbecues, yard sales, etc. The neighbors are all friendly to each other though. We wave as we drive by and verbally greet each other and engage in brief, banal chit-chat if we see one another in the yard, walking, etc. So, the new people that moved in across the street, a woman about my age (early sixties) and a daughter who looked to be about twenty or so, were stand-offish by our standards. I’d made several attempts to engage both in minor conversation if I saw them at their mailbox, getting into their cars, etc., and received the slightest of acknowledgment. They never initiated or returned a wave. Others in the neighborhood reported similar results.

The woman, Cynthia, was a retired school teacher, according to a few people on the block who remembered her as having taught their children at some point. She was short and heavy-set, and never seemed to smile. She spent a lot of time gardening.

No one had a clue as to the daughter, Alyson, though; a thin, very attractive brunette about five-seven. She drove a fancy sports car, which was parked out front all day long. It only moved at night, usually well after eight, when I’d see Alyson dash out, dressed as if she were going clubbing, jump in and speed off. She’d usually return sometime around three AM, which I knew because my dog would bark every damn time. On the occasions that I’d get up to look, I’d often see her escorting some similarly attractive girl into the house, and then walk that same girl to a waiting Uber a few hours later.

After a while, Cynthia and Alyson became pretty much non-entities to me. Then the neighborhood experienced a rash of car breaks, and that changed.

At first, the thefts were just small items in the interiors of cars where the doors had been left unlocked. But after a while, they started taking batteries. Now, I kept my cars garaged, but that was unusual in our community. Most homes had their cars parked in the drive or on the street. The homeowner’s association hired a security patrol, and the thefts became less frequent. Neighbors also started keeping a watch.

The thefts still occurred, though, as I discovered when I went out one morning to get the paper. It was after one of the few evenings that Alyson had not gone out, so her car had been parked on the street overnight. I immediately noted the fact that the hood on her car was ajar. Even though it was a bit early, I knocked on their door. And knocked. And knocked. I had decided that they weren’t going to answer and had started back down the walk when I heard the door open, followed by a very sleepy-sounding, “Hullo?”

I turned to see Alyson dressed in a loose night-shirt that barely made it to the tops of her thighs, hair up in a bun, no make-up. Based on the way that the shirt draped across her chest and the movement underneath, it was obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I started to wonder if she was wearing panties. Anyway, I asked her if she had left the hood of her car open for some reason. She said no, so I pointed out that it was open now. Making no effort to keep the hem of her night-shirt at a level even approaching modesty (and it turned out that she was not wearing panties), she walked to her car and opened the hood. Her battery was gone.

She slammed the hood closed. “Motherfucker!” she shouted. “How the fuck am I supposed to drive my car now?” I was sure that was a rhetorical question, but I decided to answer anyway.

“Well, at least they took the time to unscrew the connections instead of just cut them. All you need is a new battery.”

“Yeah? And just how the fuck am I supposed to get a new battery?” She was angry, and she sounded as if it was my fault.

“Look, don’t yell at me. Borrow your mom’s car and drive to the auto place.”

“And who the fuck is going to put it in?” Her voice was still at a decibel level well above conversation.

“Not my fuckin’ problem! “ I snarled back, as I crossed the street and went into my house.

About two hours later there was a knock at my door. I was surprised to see Alyson standing there, hair and make-up now fixed; wearing yoga pants and an under-sized tee that accentuated what appeared to be a cleanly shaven pussy and a pair of perky, still bra-less, B-cup breasts. I could tell that she knew that I was checking her out, but she waited until my eyes met hers before speaking.

“I want to apologize for earlier. You woke me up, and I was really pissed, and …”

“Hey, no problem,” I said, trying to be magnanimous. But she didn’t stop there.

“And, I know that mom and I haven’t been the friendliest of neighbors, either.”

“Yeah, well …”

“And I know that it would be a big imposition …”

“Here it comes,” I thought.

“… but, would you possibly be able to drive me somewhere to get a battery? And put it in?”

She was giving me puppy dog eyes and her voice sounded so sincere; too sincere. Saccharine. She was obviously trying to manipulate me, and feeling pretty confident about it. The only question was how far she would go, and whether I’d let her.

“I don’t know, I’m kind of busy. I’ve got a lot of work to do.” Which was actually a lie. I really didn’t have anything that I needed to be doing.

Then she almost blew it. “Oh, you mean you aren’t retired?”

“What makes you think that I’m retired?”

Her confidence started to waver. “Well, you look as old as my mom, and you don’t go anywhere during the day …”

I really couldn’t fault her assumption all that much; I mean her mom is retired, so it wasn’t a stretch to assume that I was, also. Still, I was going to make her work for it. “I’m not retired. I work from home,” I replied rather curtly. “Why can’t you borrow your mom’s car, or have her drive you?”

“Mom drove with some friends to play the slots at the Indian casino, and won’t be home for a couple of days.” She now appeared to be genuinely afraid that I would turn her down. “Look, I can pay you for your time, if that’s it.”

I smiled, deciding to let her off the hook. “No, that’s not necessary. Neighbors do things for each other. Let me get my keys.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!” She sounded like she meant it, and when she smiled and impulsively jumped up to hug me around the neck, I was convinced that she did.

So, I drove her to the auto store and helped her pick out the correct battery. She wasn’t particularly chatty about herself but seemed to ask a lot of questions about my personal life. Funny, but she never did ask if I knew how to install a car battery.

It was pretty warm by the time we got back. As I went to my garage to get the few hand tools that I’d need, she offered to go make some ice tea. As it only took about five minutes to put the battery in, I was knocking on her door to let her know that I was done before the tea had even had a chance to steep. We sat at the kitchen counter and chatted while we waited. I couldn’t help myself; I have to admit that I spent a lot of time looking at her very prominent camel toe and her jiggly breasts, which didn’t seem to bother her.

The tea was finally ready to pour over ice, and as she handed me my glass said, “So, what do I owe you?”

“Um, I really didn’t do it for the money.”

Her face clouded. “Oh, so that’s why you’ve been checking me out. You hoping for something more than money?”

“Actually, no. First, as I said, neighbors help each other. We don’t ask to be paid. Second, I know that you 'bat from the left side of the plate', as they say. So that thought never crossed my mind.”

“Oh.” She seemed embarrassed. “What do you mean that you know I 'bat from the left side of the plate'?” She made air quotation marks.

“Um, I’ve seen you bring home girls for a couple of hours after partying and then send them home in an Uber. I’m pretty sure that I know what that means.”

She was definitely embarrassed. “Yeah, well, um …”

“Hey, I’m not judging. If I was your age I’d be hitting on some of the girls I’ve seen you with, too.” She laughed at that. “But, seriously, your sexual orientation doesn’t matter to me.”

“Good to know, but you aren’t one hundred percent correct.” She paused. “I actually bat from both sides of the plate. I just like the “left” side better. I don’t bring guys home because mom would freak. If they’re girls, mom just thinks it’s a sleep-over. Plus, I’ve run into kind of a dry spell on the male roster side. Which is a shame because as much fun as girls are, there are just some things that are better with a guy.”

“Really. Between what I’ve read and what I’ve seen online, I can’t imagine there isn’t anything that a guy has that a girl can’t get a reasonable facsimile of.”

She laughed again. “Oh, there’s no doubt that modern science can duplicate, if not improve on, most aspects of the “male experience”.” She paused for a second. I could tell that she was wondering just how much to share with a guy old enough to be her father, whom she hardly knew. I figured that I’d push it.

“Improve on?”

“Yeah. You know, additional length, girth, texture. Things that if a girl saw them on a real man would send her running. Plus, with batteries, motors and such, they can move in ways that no man can!” She laughed again.

“Okay, so if modern science is so great, what’s the plus side of what you call the 'male experience'?”

“Well, first off, men fuck women like men; women fuck women like they’re pretending to be men. And a lot of the time, the angle’s wrong. Plus the girl with the cock can’t feel what’s going on inside her partner, and can’t react. Same with her partner. It just isn’t the same.” Alyson’s nipples were getting hard. “And then there’s the whole cumming thing. There is nothing plastic or silicone that has the same feel as an actual man’s hot, hard cock pumping deep in your pussy, your throat, your ass, as it swells and squirts you full of cum. Actual cum.”

Her hand had dropped into her lap, and she was subconsciously rubbing her pussy through her yoga pants. She must have suddenly realized what she was doing because she brought her hand back up to her glass with a jerk. She blushed furiously. I decide to press the issue.

“So then how long has it been since you’ve had a man cum in you?”

She blushed. “God, too long,” she sighed. “Way too long.” She seemed to be in some sort of a daze.

By now I was rock hard. I figured that I’d better get out of there before I embarrassed myself by hitting on her and stood to leave. She snapped out of whatever it was she was thinking about and looked right at my crotch. If she hadn’t noticed my erection before, she did now. Her eyes grew wide.

“Um, are you leaving?”

“Yeah, it might be better if I did.”

“Why?” she asked, although I was pretty sure that she damn well knew why.

“Look, I’m old enough to be your …”

She grabbed my cock through my pants. “This feels pretty young to me.” She smiled. “So, how long has it been since you fucked a woman?”

“Probably longer than your dry spell with men,” I admitted.

“Well, you said neighbors help each other.” She pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a cute pair of pert, firm tits. “I’ve been needing some cock.” She unzipped my pants, unbuckled the buckle, and let them fall; then tugged my briefs down exposing my manhood. “And, it looks like you need some pussy.” She put her thumbs into the waistband of her yoga pants and pulled them down and off. She still wasn’t wearing any panties, and her pussy was as bald as the day she was born. “I’ll help you if you help me.”

At my age, the women that I date expect, and usually need, foreplay. But Alyson wasn’t waiting for any of that. As soon as I said okay and yanked my shirt off, she kneeled on the couch facing away from me and spread her legs. I plunged right in from behind, burying my circumcised cock to the hilt into a cunt that was more than ready. “Yeah, baby! That’s what I was talking about!”

I grabbed her hips and started a slow, methodical fucking motion. She was tighter than I expected, making me wonder just how much dildo experience she really had. Not that I was complaining; I like tight. I watched my rod push and pull on her inner lips as I slid in and out. I shifted my hands from her hips to her ass, grabbing a handful of each pale globe and pulling them apart to expose her puckered hole.

Remembering what she said about how good it felt to feel a cock cum in her ass, I figured that a little anal play might be okay. I pulled my cock out of her pussy and stuck two fingers in, coating them with her personal lubricant. When they were good and wet, I stuck my cock back in, and then pushed my fingers against her rectal opening. “Ooh, yeah! Do that! Do my ass!” I complied, pushing them in both at once, without any prep, and began matching the rhythm of her ass-fingering to the penis plundering of her pussy. It was easier than I thought, making me wonder if her false phallus work was mostly back-door.

She started humping back against me, speeding things up. She reached back and started stroking her clit. “Don’t cum yet!” she groaned loudly, even as she brought herself off. I felt her pussy contracting around my dick; her sphincter muscles squeezing the two fingers that I had shoved up her ass. I grit my teeth and rode it out, wondering why she wanted me not to cum since that is what she said she missed about men.

As her orgasm lessened, she fell forward, causing my cock and fingers to slip from their respective orifices. “Did you cum?”

“Um, no.” I felt kind of silly standing there with my hard-on sticking out, slick with her juices and my pre-cum.

“Good,” she said, as she turned around and pulled me by my member to her. “I haven’t been on the pill for a while, because I didn’t need to be. And it really isn’t a good time of the month for your little guys to be swimming around down there. I’d offer a condom, but that would defeat the purpose. I hope it’s okay if you cum in my mouth, instead.”

I’m not sure that in the history of mankind any man ever objected to the opportunity to give a woman a tonsil basting in lieu of a womb wash. “Sure, that’s okay by me.”

She ran the tip of her tongue around the head, lapping at the combination of pre-cum and pussy juice. “Besides, I taste good on you,” she said, smiling.

For someone who expressed a preference for left-hand hitting, she sure knew how to handle a bat from the right side of the plate. No nook or cranny of my circumcised seven inches was left untouched by her fingers, lips, or tongue. Her hand had just the right amount of grip around my shaft as it slid up and down, pumping whatever part was not between her soft wet lips or in her hot, sucking mouth.

She took me deep, but never tried to take me all the way in. The suction and swirling tongue were more than enough. I was holding her head, but she was doing the work as she bobbed up and down. She had one hand gently cupping my balls, and I guess she could feel the same churning that I felt announcing that my ejaculation was imminent. She suddenly released me from her mouth and looked up at me. I took my hands off of her head.

“When you cum, it’s okay to force it all the way in.”

She then took my hands and put them back on her head, dove back down, and resumed her sucking and swirling. I felt my cock head give that final swelling, the one right before eruption. She must have, too, because as I grabbed her head and shoved my dick as far as I could, her hands grabbed my ass and helped me go even deeper. As my cock lodged in her throat, her gag reflex caused the muscles to ripple. That was all it took, and I shot rope after rope down her gullet.

She kept me in until my last spurt, then slowly let my dick pass over her tongue as she sucked out what was left behind. When I was finally free she gasped. Her face was red from the lack of oxygen, and her lips looked bruised. But her expression was one of pure sexual satisfaction. “That,” she said, as she finally had enough air in her lungs to speak, “that is why I’ll always need a man. There’s no strap-on that a women could wear that can do that.”

I flopped down on the couch, still a little light-headed. Alyson lay against me, toying with my ebbing erection as I strummed her nipples. We lay like that for a while, feeling comfortable. “Thanks again for putting my battery in.”

“Hey, we’re neighbors. If you ever need anything put in, I’m here.”

She laughed. “I might just take you up on that offer.” She kept fondling my cock. “I guess I’ll need to go back on the pill.” There was a stirring in my penis. She turned and straddled my leg, rubbing her mound against my thigh as her fondling turned to stroking what was fast becoming a respectable erection. “But, for today, how do you feel about anal?”