"Helen Hamilton!" I exclaimed.
When my doorbell rang, I had idly wondered who it could be. I never guessed it would be one of the few women I fantasize about on a regular basis. I was stunned to see Helen Hamilton standing on my doorstep.
"So you know who I am," she smiled. "I'm moving in next door and wanted to introduce myself."
"Really?" I asked in disbelief. "And I bet you're the new surprise anchor channel 16 has been so secretive about."
It wasn't rocket science, or brilliant detective work, to figure that one out. Our local ABC affiliate had been blitzing the airwaves with teasers about the new look for the six and eleven o'clock news. Ratings had been dropping and the station wanted to get back their share of the viewers, and the advertising revenue.
She seemed surprised that I guessed her 'secret' so quickly. It was Sunday afternoon and Monday was supposed to be the debut of the new look on 16. Then I remembered some of my manners.
"Please come in, Helen. May I call you Helen?" I quickly asked as I stepped aside to allow her access.
"I have to say that it is gratifying that you recognized me, and that you have been paying such close attention to channel 16's promos," she laughed as she strode onto our living room. "Of course you can call me Helen. We are going to be neighbors for a while."
"This is like a dream for me Helen," I gushed. "I have followed your career for years. You were very good on CNN and you did a great job covering that tsunami last year for Fox! I am having some difficulty with the fact that as great as you look on TV, you are way more beautiful in person! I never would have believed it possible."
"You are very flattering, Mr... ?"
"Stanton, Mike Stanton," I answered. "I am babbling like an idiot and never told you my name! I apologize, Helen. I'm just really; really surprised that Helen Hamilton rang my doorbell. No one will ever believe this. Heck, I hardly believe it!"
Then I remembered my digital camera, in the closet, just a few feet from where I stood. I quickly retrieved it held it up as a sheepish grin washed over my face.
"Before I wake up or you disappear in a puff of smoke or something, I'd very much appreciate you permitting me to get a picture of you, with me. Would you allow me that honor?" I pleaded.
"Wow, you must be my best fan!" laughed the woman of my dreams. "I'd be delighted to accommodate you, Mike."
I stepped close to her and held the camera at arm's length. She was only a couple inches shorter than my five foot eleven and as I leaned toward her I slid my other arm around her shoulder.
"I'm going to press the button, so smile!" I managed though my shit-eating grin.
As I pressed the shutter, she mover her cheek in against mine and smiled! I thought I was in heaven and began to thank her again.
"Mike, it's no big deal. We are going to be neighbors, so we'll see each other from time to time. You can get more pictures if you like. I only ask you never post them on the web, sell, or give any away to any media without me seeing the picture and approving it first. I always have to watch my image," she admitted.
"I know I am pushing my luck, Helen, but would you be willing to sign one of your pictures in Playboy for me? I can have it here in a minute!"
"I might have known you would have that issue, Mike! That was ten years ago and I was younger, firmer, and dumber than I am now. At least I hope I'm smarter now. I was definitely younger and firmer!" she chuckled.
"Is that an affirmative?" I cautiously asked.
"I have mixed feelings about that whole thing, Mike. I don't know if it hurt, or helped, my career. Sometimes I feel that I'm not taken seriously because I posed nude. Other times I think I would still be a weather girl in Binghamton if I hadn't," Helen revealed. "Let me think about it. You should know this. I have flatly refused anyone else that has asked me to sign those pictures for the last eight years. At least you still have a chance."
"I understand totally and hope I didn't make you uncomfortable. I really have followed your career. You are the reason I watched CNN and then switched to Fox. This is so cool having you for a neighbor!" I blurted.
"I have to go back and show the movers where to put everything, Mike, but it was really a treat meeting you. We will try to be good neighbors and respect your privacy at the same time," promised Helen.
"Don't ever worry about that!" I replied. "Invade our privacy anytime. It has been pretty boring around here lately. My wife, Sherry, will be sorry she missed meeting you. Heck, she won't even believe that I met you!"
I loaded the picture of Helen and me on my computer and printed a couple copies. Then I stuck one picture on the refrigerator, like a kid would do, and put the other one on the coffee table in the living room. Sherry, my wife of 22 years, would be home from her mother's soon and I couldn't wait to see her reaction to the picture. I could barely contain myself as I waited.
I heard her pull into the garage and pretended to be busy on my computer. I wanted her to see one of the pictures and then ask me about it. I waited about ten minutes and never heard a peep, so I went looking for her.
I found Sherry in the kitchen having a soda and reading the Sunday paper. She had to get the soda from the frig, so she must have seen the picture! I mulled that over, trying to determine the reason for her lack of interest.
"Hey, Sweetie, I was wondering where you were," stated Helen as she flipped through the ads. "How was your day?"
"Do you mean beside having Helen Hamilton stop in for a few minutes?" I asked sarcastically.
"I saw that picture, Honey," Sherry chuckled. "You are getting pretty good with PhotoShop. It looks real. I know how you have a thing for her. Remember how you'd show me her old Playboy spread the first five or six times you saw her on CNN? She's your walking wet dream."
"I didn't doctor that picture, Sherry! She stopped in today!" I replied.
"I'm sure she did," replied Sherry in a condescending voice. "Tell you what, Mike. Let's make a deal. If you ever get the chance to get into Helen Hamilton's panties, I won't complain. In fact, I will be quite proud of you. I certainly couldn't blame you. She is a beautiful woman."
""Well, gee! I really do appreciate that attitude, Sherry," I retorted. "I'll start working on that right away!"
"By the same token," continued Sherry, "I expect you to not stand in my way with her hunk of a husband, Lance Edwards, if I ever get the chance to get him into bed. He still looks as hard and hot as he did when he played for the Phillies. I know you would be proud of me if he thought I was worth his effort."
"I'm not sure about that deal, Sherry. I can see where you could get that jock to bang you a lot easier than I would be able to seduce Helen Hamilton," I worried.
"Okay, Mr. Fantasy Lover, how about we limit it to blowjobs?" laughed Sherry. "If you can get Helen Hamilton to blow you, anyplace you choose, I won't stand in your way. If I get the chance to blow Old Lance, you don't stop me and you never complain about it, or hold it over me, or try to divorce me."
"What the hell are you talking about, Sherry?" I demanded. "I've never been able get you to suck my cock. Why the fuck would I go along with you blowing that has-been?"
"You're getting awfully fired up over this fantasy, aren't you?" Sherry chuckled. "It seems like a fair deal to me. One, or possibly both of us, experience our first blowjobs with two of the most beautiful people in the world. The only difference is that I will be giving and you will be receiving, or would you like to have a crack at Lance, too?"
"You know better than that! I didn't even like him when he played for the Phillies!" I growled. "It's still a lot easier for you to get him to let you blow him than it could ever be for me to somehow get Helen to suck my cock. In 22 years I haven't been able to get my own wife to do it, for Christ's sake!"
Sherry was laughing heartily at my indignation. Tears were starting to run down her cheeks.
"That's the best offer I'm going to make, Mike," she croaked between bouts of laughter. "Take it or leave it."
"Goddamn it! I'll take it, but don't bitch when you see Helen Hamilton sucking me off! One other thing, don't suck that asshole's cock when I'm around to see it!" I snarled.
"That sounds fair enough! I guess we have a deal then," Sherry struggled to tell me as the tears of laughter ran down her face. "Now let's discuss Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie!"
"No more damn deals!" I insisted. "You'll be blowing every goddamn guy in the country before long and I'll be left with Rosie Palm. Something about this really pisses me off! It's only the thought of a blowjob from Helen Hamilton that got me to go against my better judgment and agree to this."
I turned and stalked out of the room as Sherry roared in mirth. This was a joke to her, but he who laughs last...
I never said another word about our famous neighbors. Until Sherry had mentioned it, I had forgotten that Helen had married Lance Edwards a few years back. He had been a mediocre third baseman for several years with the Philadelphia Phillies. His lifetime average was .241 and he had fewer than a hundred homers in his career. It was safe to say he would not make the Hall of Fame, nor would he cause Phillie fans forget Mike Schmitt.
Monday evening, I turned on channel 16 a few minutes before the six o'clock news. I had to see Helen's first night as the anchor, even if it was unlikely that I would ever get a blowjob from her.
.... There is more of this story ...