Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Romantic, Heterosexual, Slow,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Bill's a nice guy, just a working man getting along. Life has left him battered, but he's found stability. One day his neighbor, young Haley, shows up to help wash a car. And be a friend.
So I bought a house. Late thirties, divorced, wanted a little place of my own and I found this house in one of those little enclaves that dot the countryside a few miles outside of many towns. You know, five or six houses in a little clump, just off a main road. It was a nice house. I had neighbors who pretty much kept to themselves, mostly older retired couples, somebody to wave at when I was driving in from work, or to pass a few words of conversation with when I went for a walk.
And then there were the people next door. It was almost like their life was configured from redneck jokes. The yard was unkempt, irregularly mowed. They had two kids, a girl, twelvish, and a toddler, three or four. His toys were strewn about the yard. The grass was bare under one tree in their front yard, victim to one too many automotive projects. Another tree sheltered a clapped-out motor home with NASCAR logos prominently displayed in the rear windows.
I'd met wife and husband, both pretty decent people at one level, just not exactly ready for high society. She was thirty-something, chunky, ratty brown hair frizzed from over-chemicalled colors and perms. He was chunky also. Beer-bellied, a beard, seldom without a cap on his head, and seldom in the front yard without a beer and a cigarette.
Maybe that explained the reduced price on the house I bought. Still, I wasn't there for status. I could keep to myself and nobody bothered me, but if I was off on the road for a few days, working, I knew they'd watch over the place for me. Life was pretty good.
So there I was on a June Saturday afternoon. I decided that my company mini-van needed a washing, so I was out in the driveway with a water-hose in one hand and a brush in the other, not paying attention to much at all. Washing cars doesn't exactly call for full concentration.
That's why I was startled when I heard a voice.
I jumped a little and turned. There was next door neighbor girl, Haley, all five feet or so of her, thinnish, wearing an oversized white T-shirt that hung down to just about cover her shorts. Her hair was short and brown and had enough curl to do a little flip at her neck. Brown eyes. This wasn't going to be a supermodel. This was going to be a very standard brown-eyed girl. Plenty cute in a ' little girl' kind of way, but maybe not destined to be on a swimsuit calendar.
"Uh," I smiled, "Lessee ... Water hose. Brush. Wet car. Oh, I know ... I'm building a fence."
Her face looked amused. "Okay, so I'm not good at starting a conversation," she laughed.
"Don't mind me. I'm just washing my car."
"Want some help?"
"You'll get all wet and messy."
"'s okay. I can go home an' change when it's over."
"Then I'd appreciate the help." She grabbed the hose and wetted and rinsed as I washed off the road dirt with the brush. We worked all the way around the car and she did indeed get wet. In a white T-shirt. Which became transparent. But she was twelve, and I could see through the wet shirt that she had nipples and the beginnings of bulges that presaged titties, but nothing to get excited over.
"Squirt some water on the top," I said, "and I'll wash it."
She complied and I tried reaching across the roof, stretching tip-toed.
"Yah know," she said, "if you pick me up, I can get the roof better."
"That's a good idea," I said. "Here. Hold this." I handed her the brush. I put my hands around her waist and hoisted her up. She was now at roof level and supported herself by leaning across it. Her little butt was at eye level for me. Okay. I peeked. Just a little bit.
"Move me down so I can get some more," she said.
I lifted her back up and sat her ass on my shoulder and moved her. She kept working. Thoroughly wet. Completely oblivious to anything. Just washing a car. We worked our way around the car and finished. I walked to the shed to put away the hose and brush and she followed.
Turning around, I viewed her, wet from head to toe, brown smudges on her white T-shirt doing little to obscure little pink nipples that were pointing outward. "You're a mess," I said. Your mom's gonna kill you."
"Nah," she said. "She won't even know. They left me by myself this afternoon an' won't be home till six or seven."
I guess I showed a questioning expression.
"Oh, they do it all the time. Gone to visit step-dad's brother. I can take care of myself."
"Oh," I said, "well, you know if you need anything while they're gone, you can come ask me."
"Thanks, Mr. Bill," she said. "I'm gonna go change. See ya!"
"Thank you, Haley," I said. I'd no more entered the house than I heard a knock on the door. I opened it. Brown eyes looked up at me.
"Sorry, Mr. Bill, but I locked myself out of the house. I can't get in, an' I need to use the bathroom."
"Well, come in. You know where the bathroom's at." She had previously visited when my ten-year-old daughter was over for the "It's your weekend with your dad" weekends. She went up the hall.
I heard the toilet flush, then Haley reappeared. I looked at her. "You know, if you're not going to get back in your house, we need to do something about those wet clothes. I can put them in the dryer."
"Yeah, but what do I wear while they're in the dryer?" Brown eyes questioned me.
"I can give you one of my old T-shirts. It'll fit you like a nightgown. Would that be okay?"
"Yeah. I suppose so."
"Okay," I said, "go in the bathroom and get out of those wet clothes and I'll pass you a shirt through the door."
I went up the hall to my bedroom and grabbed a T-shirt out of my dresser, then returned to wait at the bathroom door. It cracked open and I stuck the T-shirt in the small hand that presented itself. She took the T-shirt and handed me a pile of wet clothes.
"If you want, you can bop under the shower real quick to get the mud off your face, too," I said, ever helpful.
From behind the closed door came "That's a good idea!"
"Okay," I said. "I'm gonna put these in the washer and do a quick shower myself."
Walking to the laundry room, I noticed that the stack of clothes included a set of sky blue cotton panties. Oh, well. I was used to doing laundry. Single guy, nobody was going to do it for me. And of course on the weekends when I had my daughter over, I added hers to the stack.
Back up the hall I went to the second bathroom and showered. When I got out I donned my own T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that I tended to wear around the house, temporarily forgetting that there was a twelve year old girl in the house.
When I walked into the living room, there was Haley surveying my collection of DVD's. She picked one and turned. "Can we watch this?" she asked, presenting a Disney movie.
"Sure," I said. I started the DVD player with her choice and sat back and kicked up the footrest on my recliner and sighed.
"Feels good, don't it?" she commented. She flopped on her belly on the adjacent sofa and wiggled and when she did, the hem of the T-shirt rode up to the top of her thighs. I got a view of closed little girl thighs and her butt cheeks. Nice view. Looked longer than I should have.
The movie started and she started getting fidgety. The T-shirt revealed more. Then she pulled one knee up toward her chest and rolled back to looking at me.
Then she jumped up. "Mr. Bill," she said, looking directly at my face, "can I sit in your lap to watch TV?"
I was a bit taken aback. "Uh, Haley, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why?" And a little bottom lip out.
"Because you're a little girl and little girls aren't supposed to sit in strange men's laps."
"I'm TWELVE. Almost thirteen! And you're not a strange man. I've known you for a year."
"Yeah, but if people found out about it they'd put me in jail for child molestation."
"Oh. THAT! Mom told me all about that. Even if I didn't sit in your lap, if I told people you'd done stuff to me they'd believe me and you'd be in trouble."
I wondered exactly what her mom had said all that for. "That's right," I said, "so let's not invite trouble."
She looked sad. "Okay. I just wanted to be cuddled. That's all."
"Haley," I said, "it's just not appropriate. I'm glad you're here. I'm glad I can help. But I don't think snuggling is something we should be doing."
"I was cold after the shower. You keep it cold in here."
"Yeah, that's why I work so hard, just so I can keep my house cold."
"And you're a cute little girl."
"I'm NOT a little girl!"
"You weigh what, like ninety pounds? You're five feet tall? Twelve? Oops, excuse me, ALMOST thirteen ... Little. Female. Girl
"Almost thirteen, you know. And I'm becoming a woman."
"In due time, no doubt," I teased.
"In what way are YOU a woman?"
She looked into my face and smiled. "I got my period already."
"Oh. That makes a difference."
"An' I know lots of stuff."
"What kind of stuff?"
"I know what men and women do, you know husbands and wives stuff." She was still working towards a goal, and I didn't know what it was. But if I was reading it right, it was trouble.
I was curious now. "Okay, how do you know this stuff?"
"Seen it." She had a smug expression.
"Okay," I said, "what did you see and where did you see it?"
"I saw mom and my stepdad doing things. They didn't know I was looking." She continued. "An' that's how I know stuff."
"So, exactly what kind of stuff do you know?" I asked.
"What a husband and wife do together."
"How'd you learn all this?"
"Peekin' through the crack in the door."
"Ooooh," I mused, "you peeked? Into their bedroom?"
"No," she said, "Mom an' step-dad do stuff in the den sometimes, an' one night I was in bed an' wanted to get something from the den an' I got up, and the door to the den was almost closed and I could hear them talking, so I peeked. They didn't know I was lookin' an' they were playin' an' stuff."
I looked at her. She was obviously enjoying being able to share this tale. "So what did you see?"
"Well," she said, "they were laughin, so I know they were havin' fun. Step-dad was over Mom on the couch, wearin' his baggy PJ's and they kissed and he got up an' she reached in his PJ's and pulled out his thing and played with it. At first I thought she hurt him because of the sound he made, but she kept doing it and he put his hand on the back of her head and she started sucking on it. He acted like he REALLY liked that." She looked at me to gauge my reaction.
"Yeah. Lots of guys like that."
She continued, "When she stopped, he kissed her. Like, I thought, "GROSS" 'cause his thing was just in her mouth, but they kissed a long time an' his hands were under her night gown an' she was makin' noises like she was havin' fun. Then he did something I couldn't believe."
I had a pretty good idea of possibilities, but I didn't want to spoil Haley's telling. "What'd he do?" I asked.
"He pulled her panties off an' spread her legs and licked her right on her pussy."
Little Haley knew what a 'pussy' was. Interesting information, that.
"An' she REALLY liked that. She was holdin' his head an' pushing his face in her pussy, an' she started shaking an' all of a sudden just stopped. And he went up to her face an' I could see his face was messy, an' they kissed, then he took his PJ's off an' I could see his whole thing, hair an' balls an' stuff. An' Mom climbed on top of him an' put his thing in her pussy and they moved up an' down an' back an' forth an' then he kind of screamed an' just stopped moving. Then Mom got off him an' his thing was floppy an' she licked it an' sucked it. An' they started to get up so I ran back to my bedroom."
"Well, Haley, you saw them having sex. Sounds like they have fun doing it, too."
She looked at me, her eyes a little incredulous. "All that stuff is normal, huh?"
"Yep. Sure is. People can bring pleasure to each other in a lot of ways. You saw them doing oral sex to each other, and then having intercourse."
Her eyes twinkled. "Intercourse is a nice way of saying fucking, huh?"
"Yes, it's a nice way. I think "fucking" is a sort of coarse word. "Intercourse" is too formal, though."
"So what do YOU call it?"
"I call it 'making love' or 'having sex' or just 'doing it'. And I shouldn't be talking with YOU about it. You should learn this from your mother."
"Oh, she told me some stuff. We've had The Talk. I know that when guys get excited, their things get hard, and if a guy sticks his thing in me and stuff comes out, I could get pregnant. An' stuff like that."
"That's mostly true, Haley," I said. "So then you should know why you shouldn't be sitting on my lap."
"But, Mister Bill, snuggling doesn't have to be about sex. Sometimes it's about being warm." She smiled shyly.
She really did have an innocent look on her face. I found myself giving in. "Okay, Haley," I heard myself say. "You can sit on my lap and cuddle. But it's just keeping warm and being friendly. No sex stuff."
She squealed and launched herself into my lap. She nestled down in my arms, turned her face to mine, and said "Okay, Mister Bill, just friends. You know in this neighborhood it's hard for me to have friends.
I noted the silence from the laundry room that told me the washing machine had finished its cycle. Haley climbed off my lap so I could go put the clothes in the dryer. When I came back, I thought perhaps she was finished with her snuggle phase. I sat in my recliner. She stood by my side, looking at me.
"Can I still snuggle?" She asked.
I looked at her face. Those brown eyes. They look so soft and sweet and innocent. "Okay, Haley. But just like before, okay? Just friends. I mean, like you sit on your uncle's lap."
"Yuck!" She spat. "I wouldn't sit on his lap if he asked me to. First, he always smells bad. He smokes, and he doesn't do a very good job of bathing. An', you know, I really don't think he'd care how I snuggled if I got in his lap. He's kinda creepy."
I took this information into consideration. "See," I said, "that's what I mean. Some adults would take advantage of sweet young girls."
"Yeah," Haley sighed. "Mama told me about that. She said that guys will tell you what they think you want to hear." She looked at me with those soft brown eyes. "'Cuz they want to have sex."
"Yes, sweetie," I said, "that's one way to take advantage. There are other ways. Like you were saying about your uncle. Some guys would try new things even if you didn't say it was okay."
"But if I said it was okay?" Those eyes again. In the corners of her mouth turned up a tiny little bit, the beginnings of a questioning smile.
"They didn't tell you about that in that class at school?" I asked.
"Tell me about what?" She asked.
"Baby," I sighed, "you're twelve. According to the law, you're not old enough to give somebody permission, even if you wanted to. To tell somebody that it's okay to do things with you."
"That's, like, sixteen, ain't it?" She asked.
"That's right," I said.
She leaned back against me, took one of my hands in each of hers, and wrapped them around her. "Feels good to just be held. I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm twelve now, or it might be 'cuz Mama has our little brother, but I don't get held. An', you know, sometimes I miss it."
We continued watching the movie. There were long periods of silence between us. I savored the neat package that was in my arms, fighting, willing myself not to be aroused. As the movie ended, thankfully, the buzzer went off on the clothes dryer.
"Okay, sweetie," I said. "I need to go get the clothes out of the dryer." Somewhat reluctantly she got out of my lap and let me go take care of the task. She was still in the living room when I walked in and handed a stack of clothes to her. "Now you can go to the bathroom to change back into your regular clothes."
She looked at me. "Thanks, Mister Bill," she said. "I'll be right back." She was, in just a matter of minutes. She looked at me. "Why don't you sit back down? We can find something on TV, an' we'll hear when my mom and Steve get back."
"Okay," I said, relinquishing a bit of control. I sat down in my chair, got comfortable, and motioned with my open arms that I was ready for her to sit in my lap. I handed her the remote control for the TV set. She flipped through channels until she found something that was interesting and then settled back to watch.
About twenty minutes into the program, we did hear her mom and stepdad drive up. "They're home," she said. "I guess I'll go home now." She looked at me with those brown eyes. "Uh, Mister Bill, thank you."
"No, thank you, Haley," I said. "I appreciate you helping me wash the car."
She got a little exasperated look on her face. "You know that's not what I'm talking about," she said. "I was talking about you letting me snuggle. You know ... Oh, never mind." In a flash she threw her arms around my neck, gave me a quick little peck on the cheek, and was walking to the door.
"Bye, Haley," I said. "See you around."
Her eyes flashed. She smiled broadly. "I'd like that, you know, if you don't mind putting up with me."
"Well, baby, that's fine with me if you don't mind hanging around an old guy, but make sure that your mom knows where you're at. Last thing I need is for her to think that you're sneaking over here to be with me. Even if we aren't doing anything, I could end up in jail."
"That's just so stupid." She paused a second. "I'm gonna tell mom that I locked myself out of the house and that I was over here watching TV. She'll understand that."
"Okay, sweetie," I said. Inwardly, I was hoping that her mom didn't read anything more into the situation than what really took place. Haley left, closing the door behind herself. I returned to my recliner, flipped through the channels again, this time picking something that I really wanted to see, and thought. The question that was floating through my mind was, what really just happened?
And that was it. Little Haley, little brown haired next-door neighbor had just picked up our friendship to a new level. I mean, before, I don't think it was a friendship, I think it was more of an acquaintance. I mean, it was two human beings in physical proximity to one another, cordial, and that was about all of it. After today, I think there was some kind of connection. Friendship.
And that's the way it was for the remainder of summer. If I was outdoors and Haley was outdoors, she made a point of coming over to say hi and to talk a little while. Sometimes in the late afternoon, I'd sit under the tree in my front yard, sipping a drink and reading. Several times, Haley would come sit in the other chair. That didn't put her sitting beside me. She was on the other side of the patio table from me but we were close enough together to talk.
We talked about a little bit of everything. We talked about her family, the relationship that she had with her step dad, how she felt about her baby brother, things of that sort. She asked about my work. She noted that when my car was gone overnight.
It was the afternoon after one of those overnight trips that I was sitting under the tree, enjoying the breeze, and the shade, and the sound of the birds. I thought I heard footsteps.
"Hi, Mister Bill." Haley's voice. "You weren't home last night. Work?"
I parsed the idea that she was tracking my comings and goings. "Uh-huh," I said. "I had a little out-of-town job, and I didn't get finished till late, so I got a hotel room. This morning I drove back to the office and now I'm home."
"Mister Bill, "she said, "I don't see you datin' or anything."
That comment sort went with the idea of her watching my comings and goings. "No, baby," I admitted. "I sorta pulled out of the 'dating' business."
"Why?" She looked at me. I could tell she was paying attention.
"It's just not something I wanna mess with right now."
She looked at me. "You're not, like, tryin' to find a wife?"
"Not right now, I'm not." I looked at Haley, asking myself why this child was asking me these questions.
"You didn't like being married?" she asked. "I mean, I talked with Deena about it. So I know about your divorce. At least what Deena knows."
"It's not that I didn't like being married, Haley," I sighed. "Deena's mom decided that the grass was greener someplace else. She decided that she wanted to be with an old high school boyfriend. Wasn't my idea to get a divorce, but I didn't have a whole lot of choice." This was an awfully serious discussion to be having with the twelve-year-old neighbor. I guess she read that in my face.
"I'm sorry, Mister Bill, I don't mean to be nosy. I'm just trying to figure out how these things work. You know, Mom's not really divorced."
This was news to me. Haley quickly read that expression on my face too.
"Mom was never married to my dad," she said. Her expression was sad.
"I don't think I ever met your dad," I said.
A little sigh escaped her lips. "Nobody knows where he is," she said. "Mom said he hung around for, like, a month, maybe, after I was born. An' then he hauled butt. That's her words." She looked at me, her face serious. "So I kinda don't know how that divorce thing works."
"Divorce just IS. It doesn't necessarily work. It's just a mechanism to end the marriage. Some of 'em, I guess, are easier than others. I guess if two people are married and they recognize that they don't have an investment in it and they want to be going their separate directions, a divorce can be painless. I imagine, though, most of them aren't painless."
Haley was leaning on the arm of the chair, her arms folded, her chin resting on them. I kept getting lost in those eyes. They were staring back at me now. She raised her head slightly. "I guess yours was the second kind, huh?"
I nodded. "Yeah," I admitted. "I guess I was silly enough to think that marriage was supposed to be forever. I mean, two people that are married are gonna go through some rough spots but part of being in love and being serious and being grown up is that you put effort into getting past the rough spots. You don't look up an old boyfriend."
"I'm sorry, Mister Bill," Haley said. "I should'nt've brought that up."
"No, baby, you didn't know. And I'm over it, mostly."
"But you don't date? Go out 'n' stuff?"
"I tried that for a while, baby, but it just wasn't working. I guess burned is burned. I mean, I have a few female friends, but nobody that I want to get serious with. Just not the right prospects. Besides, I hate thinking of people as 'prospects'. Somehow that seems, I don't know, just wrong." This was a serious conversation to be having with a twelve-year-old girl, I thought. I really don't know why I was doing it. I guess the truth was, I really hadn't had a chance to verbalize some of these feelings.
"I kind of understand that," she said. "People have feelings. I mean, EVERYBODY does. It's just that sometimes other people are so wrapped up in their thing that they forget you got feelings."
I pondered the depth of that statement, seeing as how it came from a twelve-year-old. Apparently, Haley spent some time thinking about things that most people didn't expect a twelve-year-old to be concerned with. "Yeah, sweetie, I guess that's it. I think, for the most part, people don't go out of their way to actually be mean..."
"But they're just oblivious," Haley said.
I noted the use of the word 'oblivious' by Haley. Since we started having regular conversations I had noticed that in addition to the maturity of some of her subject matter, it was obvious that she was quite bright. Vocabulary was just one angle. She sometimes had a wry viewpoint on the subjects of social and interpersonal relationships.
"Want me to get you another Coke?" she asked.
"You don't mind, sweetie?"
A little giggle. "No, cause I'm gonna get me one, too." She had an adorable smile.
"Sure. The door's open." She bounced off into the house. I watched her depart, dressed in baggy cotton shorts and a T-shirt. I assessed what I saw: your standard brown-haired twelve-year-old girl. The countryside was full of them. This one, though, was fast becoming special to me.
She returned with two Cokes, handed me one, then stretched out on the empty lounge chair beside me. She leaned back, the balmy breeze wafting over the two of us. "This just feels nice," she said. "We don't have anything to worry about." She turned her head slightly, looking at me. "An' I'm sitting here enjoying a quiet drink with my best friend."
That was a little shock. This was the first time she'd said anything definitive about what I saw as a growing relationship. I looked back at her. "Yeah. You know, you're right. You ARE my best friend. 'S kinda weird though, with you being twelve and me being thirty-eight."
It wasn't a big smile. Haley didn't do 'big smile' very often but it was a smile nonetheless.
"Age shouldn't have anything to do with it," Haley said. "Hanging around with you gives me something that I need."
I was getting ready to answer that when I saw Haley's mom coming across the yard, beer in one hand, Marlboro in the other, a pretty characteristic look for her.
"Haley," she said, "are you bothering Mister Bill?"
"No, Marie," I said. "She's just hanging out here, and we're talking. No bother."
Marie said, "You know, Bill, if she's a bother you can just run her off."
"Yeah, I know, Marie," I said. "But really, she's no bother. Uh, you don't mind her being over here, do you?"
"Oh, hell no," Marie said. "I just don't want her bothering people." She looked at Haley. "You do that sometimes, you know?"
"Mommmm, I don't MEAN to bother people. It's just that I don't have very many people to talk to."
"Yeah," Marie snorted, "but you don't have to make up for it on Mister Bill.
"Marie," I said, "seriously, she's not a problem. Sometimes I just like to have somebody to talk to that's not work-related. Otherwise I'd be set'n in the house by myself. Haley's always welcome."
"Okay, Bill," Marie said. "I just didn't want her bothering you."
And that pretty much framed the summer with me and Haley. Every other weekend, my daughter Deena came over. Many times when Deena and I were headed out, I'd invite Haley along. I couldn't do it every time because I risked running afoul of the ex-wife. But I tried to include Haley is much as I could. After all, I was her escape from the neighborhood much of the time. When her stepdad wasn't working, money was often tight for them. Taking Haley to a movie or out to eat was no burden to me.
Besides, that had the added advantage of normalizing the idea of Haley hanging out at my house. Quite often when Deena came over, she brought the latest DVD. It took a little prodding on my part but I got Deena used to the idea that if she was going to sit there and watch a DVD, she could ask Haley over. And that was it. Perfectly innocent. Just trying to make things a little bit better for Haley.