(Many thanks to my colleague Phil Gorman for his proofing and editorial assistance)
My move to Florida had gone better than expected. I found a perfect, semi-furnished place to rent, in an older residential neighborhood, just outside of my new school’s district. It wasn’t much, but it offered exactly the level of anonymity I needed. As for the actual move, I had so few things that I was able to handle it by myself. Another aspect of my new situation required that I use an alias for this part of my life. Except at school, my Florida name was Nick Manchik. I had false papers, bank accounts, an entire false life created. As I was unloading the U-Haul, the guy from across the street came over with a twelve pack of cold ones, and invited me for a beer break.
I accepted his invitation and took some time to relax in the backyard with my new neighbor, Ted. He paints bridges for a living, and said it kept him on the road a lot. He has three daughters; Amber, who was going into 11th grade, Shae, who was going into 9th, Alice, who was four and a son Ted Jr, who was three. Shortly, his wife Nancy came over and joined us. She was pleasant enough and must have been a looker at one time; but, four kids had put some miles on her. Ted offered to lend a hand with the unloading, but I knew he was just being neighborly and turned him down. It was nice of him to ask though.
After exchanging further pleasantries, and polishing off the beers, I got back to work unloading the furniture. Ted and Nancy headed home. I saw that their kids were in the front yard watching me unload the truck. I walked over and introduced myself. The older girl, Amber, was very nice looking, but appeared to have a bit of a bitchy attitude. I didn’t care for her much at all; as a matter of fact, my first thought was that what she needed was a good horse-fucking in the ass.
Shae, on the other hand, was a delight; she has a beautiful face, a smile that would captivate anyone, and a very likeable way about her. This made her even more attractive than her looks could be credited for. The little ones were polite and friendly, but too young to grasp what was going on.
My new life soon became everything I had imagined. School was going great and, before too long, some of the benefits started to show up, in the form of “eager” students and a couple of coworkers. The extra work I had arranged through Dave was turning out to be extremely profitable.
An important part of my side work was establishing my false identity. No one on the “dark side” knew my real name or anything about me. I had one main contact person, Jack, and dealt with a very attractive Eastern European lady who was maybe a few years older than me, named Myra. I had one colleague called TJ. I only saw him when something was coming in or leaving the country.
My “real” life at home was very hectic; little Shae became a bigger and bigger part of it.
Mr. Manchik’s Neighborhood
I loved having a yard to work in. In what free time I had, I was mostly working around the house. One day I was trimming the front hedges, with my mind wandering, and for some reason, I turned around; standing on the sidewalk watching me, was Shae. I stayed silent, as I looked her up and down. She was wearing a red tank top, blue gym shorts, white ankle socks, and white trainers. Her long, black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, with a few wisps of hair framing her face. The sun was shining on her face, her head slightly cocked, and she was looking at me with one eye squinted. Her face was radiant; a natural beauty.
“Hey Shae, how you doing?”
“Pretty good Mr. Nick; how’s the new house and everything?”
I strolled up to her and turned, so her face wasn’t in the sun anymore, and replied, “I’m loving it! This place is great, and I really like my neighbors.”
She liked that comment and said, “Well, we really like having you here, Mr. Nick. Can I give you a hand picking up all the branches and stuff you cut?”
I would have to had been an idiot to turn down such assistance. I spent the next half hour either trying to glance down her top or marveling at her perfect legs and ass. Before too long, if I was ever outside doing some yard work, Shae would be over to lend a hand.
One day she was hanging out, sitting cross-legged on the lawn as I was pulling garden weeds and asked me about the “lady” who had come home with me the previous weekend. I replied “Oh, it was nothing; we work together and decided to hang out a bit.” I indeed had a very good time with the slut! She’s a married English teacher and her husband was out of town for the weekend, so ... anyway.
Shae said, “So, she’s not your girlfriend or anything?”
“Nothing of the kind. She’s OK ... but not really my type.”
“What is your type?”
I pulled a few more weeds, sat back to look at her, and replied, “It’s kind of tough to say, kiddo; someone who I can just hang out with and be myself, someone who, for some reason I find attractive and desirable, I don’t know, someone who makes me happy ... and (with a smile) being pretty doesn’t hurt either.”
She gave this some thought as I gazed upon her. She was wearing a type of dark grey gym shorts and a simple light grey tank top. I was amazed at how petite she was. She couldn’t have been over five feet tall and as lithe as a ballet dancer. Her skin was a flawless olive color and her hair a radiant jet black. As is often the case, she was wearing her hair in a high ponytail with loose strands falling in front of her ears. Her neck was beautiful and screamed out to be kissed. Although tiny, her features were soft and very feminine. Amazingly, her breasts appeared to be perfectly developed for her body size. They were small, but only in the sense that she was small. On her, they were perfect in every way imaginable. I caught myself staring and awkwardly went back to working on the weeds.
She said, “I think I know what you mean Mr. Nick. Most guys make me uncomfortable; they’ll stare at me and it feels creepy. When you look at me, your eyes are soft and I feel comfortable ... well ... gotta go, see ya.” With that she was up and gone.
Quite often, when we chatted, Shae would complain about her sister, Amber. From what I was picking up from Shae, and observing in the neighborhood, my initial thoughts were correct. Amber was a major league bitch who seemed to try and target her little sister, primarily for the fun of it.
One day, after school, I noticed that Shae’s bus stopped at the corner. She walked home right past my house, before heading across the street. She was a sight to behold. I creepily began waiting for her to walk by, just to watch, as her way-too-heavy backpack would accentuate her tits because of the pressure from the straps over her shoulders. I usually had my hand on my dick as she went by and relief would arrive a few minutes later.
Sometimes I would sit on the front porch and she would wave and say hello; sometimes she would walk up and chat. I found that whichever way it worked out, I was always enthralled by her, and needless to say, rather excited. One day she told me she was trying out for the junior varsity cheerleader squad at school and asked if I would come to some of the games where she would be cheering. The mere mental image of her as a cheerleader was a thrill in and of itself. I readily agreed and hoped I would have the time to get to some games.
Halloween came around. I sat on the front porch, with a cocktail and handed out candy. I was warned by the neighbors that this was a big night in the neighborhood and, boy, they weren’t kidding! I think people trucked extra kids in! It didn’t matter; I love Halloween and had a great time. Shae and her very cute friend Connie, took their younger siblings trick-or-treating and the sight of Shae almost made me drop. She was dressed as a witch and wore a clingy black dress with a plunging neckline that accentuated every positive feature about her. I actually fumbled a bit when handing out candy because I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She flirted a bit and then continued on.
Shae’s First Job
A few weeks later, I was in the backyard on a Saturday doing some gardening when Shae rode in on her bike. “I thought you would be here.” Looking around the yard, she added, “Boy, do you ever have a lot of work to do! Do you want some help?”
Knowing that we would be alone in the backyard for some time, I responded, “Sure thing, but I think you had better ask at home first.”
“OK, but I finished all my chores for the day so it’ll be OK.”
When she returned, she announced, “Dad said it was fine with him; but maybe I should see if I can get paid for my work.”
“Paid? I thought you would help out of the goodness of your heart?”
She started to stammer a bit and I could tell she was feeling a bit embarrassed; so I quickly said, “I was only kidding! Of course you should get paid for your work. Tell you what, let’s sit down, have some iced tea, and hammer out a deal.” I headed to the back door, stopped, looked back and said, “You go sit at the patio table and I’ll be right back.”
When I returned she was sitting with one foot up on the chair and her arms wrapped around her raised knee. She said thanks when I set the glass down and then asked, “Do you think you’ll be able to make it to any of my games?”
I sat in the chair next to her and apologized for not making any games so far. I explained “I have this part time job where I travel around and lead workshops for teachers, it pays really well and I just can’t pass on the money.”
.... There is more of this story ...