I kept my brush wet, in case I walked around and saw touch-ups, or drips, but first I went inside and thoroughly washed my hands, washed up, washed my hands of the albatross of my summer-into-fall project.
The poor house had had a couple crappy spray-on paint jobs over the crumbling and all-chalked-out century-old enamel. This summer I'd taken on the west side of the house, scraping every inch of it down to bare wood. I was intent on doing a very thorough job. I replaced the worst wood. I found the studs and re-nailed every bit of the old wood, pulling all the old dead rusty nails. A case of caulk, two layers of killer primer, and just now I'd finished the last stroke of the $50/gal finish coat. I'd finished a day ahead of the forecast for the fall to fall into the month or two of cold wetness segueing into winter.
I came back for a look, and I was pumped up and feeling cocky. After all the months of lonely toil, it looked that fucking good. I was wanting a friend or neighbor to happen along to join me in my admiration of that which I had wrought with my own two hands. There is a certain satisfaction in that.
But it was early on a Wednesday afternoon, so I stood there by myself. There weren't even cars coming down our little street at that hour.
Then something flashed in my peripheral. It made me stand a little taller and straighter. And I was right. It was the green car coming to the curb at the green house two doors down. And yes, the green girl got out of the green car to go into her green house. I'd learned to like to watch that.
The girl wasn't really green, just slightly olive-complected. With this cute upturned nose, and a crazy mane of curly black hair. She was an active gal, so if she had on a pair of tight running shorts, her breasts were in a tit-mashing sports bra top. They looked pretty nice even like that. But it was her unencumbered ass that just stood out. Even to a non-ass man such as myself. The fucker just read, as though stitched, Squeeze Me!
I could catalogue her so completely because I'd become good at it. The green house, like several others towards the end of the block, had gone rental, housing households of upper class roomies finishing up at the small university a few blocks away. The populations changed annually. The woman who owned the green house tended to favor cute coeds for her tenants--bless her heart!
I've always enjoyed lounging out on my porch swing, hanging out reading while looking around, enjoying the eye candy. But us residents rarely interact with the transients.
Eye candy was just that. A tiny, occasional reward for a job well-done. I had a porch swing habit because I liked watching my scrap of life go by, however slowly.
I didn't know the green girl's name. We'd said hello once months ago when she came by walking her dog. So it had been a shock, the week before last, when I'd come back front to take a break from my labors, and there'd been my neighbor walking to her house from the opposite direction. The shock was that I'd noticed her and she'd noticed me, and then she'd waved and called out, "Your house is looking really good!"
As I said, I was feeling cocky. I caught her eye, and then I made the green girl give a wave back at mine. Then my hand motioned her closer. She took a few steps, looking confused, so I went around to meet her. Her eyebrows were up as a smile twisted along her face. "Hey," she said.
"Hey," I answered. "Listen," I added, "what you said a few weeks ago about my house project ... that was really nice. Here I've been slaving away in solitude, so it was very nice to get an objective remark." I realized I wasn't making much sense, so then I decided to start making sense. "Come see the end result," I smiled.
I was bold enough to pull one of her small soft hands into my grip. But just long enough to lead her on over.
She gave a whistle of appreciation.
I sort of shook my head. "Sorry to pull you in, but I'd just finished, and there was no one around to appreciate it."
"Nice!" she grinned. "And I know. One of my brothers makes great money doing this sort of work."
"Thanks," I patted her shoulder, "thanks for indulging me."
She turned to leave then stopped to hold out a hand. "By the way, I'm Emily?" The question was left hanging.
"I'm Nate," I answered.
"As in Nathan?"
"Well, yea, though no one's called me that in ages."
Maybe I'd given Emily too much information. She was halfway to her house when she came back. She came bearing her hands twined together in front of her. "So, Nathan, if I ask you a question, will you give me an honest answer? And don't worry, I won't get mad about anything."
"Maybe," I ventured, tenuously.
"Do you, like? ... us girls were wondering. I mean, it seems like you're always outside your house, working, or taking a break, or on your porch swing..."
"That is my favorite place to be," I added to her knowledge. "I reserve the right to be hanging out on my porch swing any time I want."
She parried back, "Because it makes it easier? Back to the original question, because we were wondering: Are you like constantly checking us out?"
My secret was discovered, so I lied. "I love my porch. My eyes are pretty shitty, so when I detect motion I look that way. The guys in your house, eh, I admit I dismiss much more quickly."
Emily just looked at me.
"And yea," I continued, staring into her eyes for emphasis, almost as a challenge, "when it's the cutest gal on the block, I do tend to let my looks linger, but not in a bad way."
"Me? The cutest?" she laughed. "But I've got such a big butt!" She shifted her hip to grant me a sideways view.
I was astonished. "You're kidding, right?"
Emily shook her head, not understanding me.
"You don't understand this? Truly? You have the most awesome butt in the entire fucking universe." I made so bold as to give it a hint of a caress and then quick spank.
She let out a squeak and made to move away, though without actually shifting her feet. "Really?" she asked.
I knew enough to keep on. "Maybe in ten or fifteen years, if you have a kid or two, you'll want to lay off the butter on your popcorn, but 'til then totally really."
She moved back against me--my hands fell chastely open, fingers spread across her glorious cheeks.
"Of course," I added, "I can only speak of it as observed under layers of fabric." I quickly moved back away from my bold stance. We were, after all, conversing right out by the street. Deserted for now, but you never know.
Emily's whole face was slashed by a huge smile. "None of my roommates will be home for hours." She let that hang in the air.
"If you want to see more," she turned and crooked a finger, "come follow me."
"Um," I stalled, "but don't you have like a boyfriend?"
"Yea," she nodded back. "And this has nothing to do with him. Don't you have like a wife?" Emily turned and started sashaying across the lawn to her house. Her ass cheeks were like the Sirens. "Follow me if you want," she called back. Who didn't want to follow that song to its motherfucking source?!!
Despite my unblemished marriage, I did just that. A huge fog had descended; I made my way following the glowing twitchings of her ass. We were both just barely over the threshold when she used a foot to slam the front door shut, while pulling me into a deep kiss.
The girl definitely wanted it. As did I. And I'm sure the stiffness of my urgency wasn't lost on her, pressed against her belly as it was while we did our little dance.
"Let's take this up to my room," she decided, breaking away from me. Emily led the way up the stairs, and I followed like a snapping turtle, biting at her squealing ass the whole way.
Once in her room, she continued towards her bed, then turned and faced me. I continued my trajectory, until she did that turn and pushed me back.
She was just giving me proper viewing room.
"I believe you wanted to get a better look at this," she said. She dropped her shorts, and turned her ass my ways. I was so glad she wasn't wearing a thong. I'm not a fan of the thong. It was so much sexier to see how the back stretch of her bikini panties had no hope of containing such a magnificent ass.
I slapped it! Emily recoiled around, and I just advanced upon her. My hands wrapped down the back of her waist to rub my apologies. But then my busy hands came up to her breasts. "I want to see these as well," I upped the ante. "Lose the shirt and the bra," I commanded. "I'm tired of seeing your breasts always squashed down by a sports bra."
Emily lifted her arms straight up in the air. "Make me get more naked."
In such a situation, upon such an illustrated request, as a guy there's really no response not an insult but to do what I did. I gripped the hem of her shirt, and lifted it slowly up over her head. The neck hung on her chin; after gently clearing that, it then got stuck on at the base of her cute upturned nose. Her mouth lay there revealed, her lips curling into a smile at the absurdity of it. I gave those lips a long kiss, kissing her deeply and almost violently while she still remained veiled from the nose up. Then I relaxed and revealed her dancing eyes. I gave it a theatrical toss as I flung the fabric away.
.... There is more of this story ...