Unleashed: Neighbour Needs Help
Copyright© 2026 by TMax
Chapter 1: Poor Neighbor
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1: Poor Neighbor - Part of the Unleashed Series. Zer causes her older neighbor to have an accident, so with guilt in her heart, she vows to help her neighbor. In the process, her neighbor helps her learn new things and grow from an neive innocent little girl into a confident young woman. Slow serial. Thirty-Six Chapters. Some chapters contain incest scenes with father, mother, and sister, Polly. Of note: this story has hardcore sex scenes, but also character development.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Fa/ft Consensual Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Incest Mother Sister Father Light Bond Group Sex Orgy First Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Big Breasts Teacher/Student
Mrs. Reynolds worked in her backyard like most Saturdays. An ancient woman, at least ten years older than Dad and Mom. She lost her husband and fraternal twins in the war. A retired Math teacher who now lives in comfort off their death benefits and her pension, enough money to purchase fruit, which she often shared with our family. But I didn’t know what to feel about her, like a grandmother to me, but I still had a grandmother, and she also felt like a mother, but I still had a mother, and Mrs. Reynolds didn’t nag as much. More of a friend, but with a thirty-year gap between us, how could she see me as a friend, with my age the same as her former students?
She raked leaves into neat little piles. Small piles of yellow, red, and gold that reminded me of when Polona and I would make huge piles and jump into them. I always ended up hurt, because Polona jumped on me, or threw me into leaves with a stick buried in them. Dad always took Polona’s side. He always claimed that she didn’t mean it, but I knew better. She hated me and always wanted to hurt me. She didn’t like it when I hung around her, especially when she had friends over. I never figured out why, and I tried everything. I baked cookies, cleaned her room, and even did her laundry, but she never let me hang out with her. Worse, my friends always liked her better and wanted to spend more time with Polona than with me.
Mrs. Reynolds noticed me in my upstairs bedroom window and waved. I waved back. She stepped backwards, maybe to get a better view of me, or perhaps, because I distracted her, or maybe, because I startled her. She must have stepped on something sharp, because she screamed and lifted her right foot, which caused her to fall, and to brace, try break her fall, she put out her right arm, straight, just like you shouldn’t do, and while I couldn’t hear the snap of her collarbone, I felt it.
Curled in a ball, she held her arm and withered on the ground. I crossed my fingers that she would get up, ok, and fine, but I knew, in my heart and mind, that she would stay down, with a broken collarbone that I caused. My heart hammered in my ears as I fumbled for my phone.
I rushed out of the house and dialed nine for emergency as I went. With each step, I cursed my slowness and wished I had flash speed. The phone rang, over and over, three rings, loud, and I hated the bumblebee ring that I had installed. Finally, eight steps later, the operator answered. I had to stop, control my breath, and explain what happened, and where. The ambulance would arrive in five minutes, but it only took four.
I cradled Mrs. Reynolds’ head and stabilized her shoulder until it arrived. She didn’t cry, but tears formed under her eyelids as she squeezed my left hand with her left hand. The birds still sang while dogs barked in the distance. Above us, a chipmunk chittered and accused me of the accident. I wanted to shout at everything to shut up, but I knew that the world didn’t care about this one old lady, nor about my anguish and pain. Dry grass scratched my bare legs and the smell of turned dirt made me nauseous.
“Hang on. You’ll be ok. Please be ok. I’m so sorry,” I said and refused to cry, tried not to cry, but failed, as I always did. Her cheeks burned. My red, flushed skin matched her shirt.
“Please don’t die,” I said, although I knew it had a low possibility, but people can still die from shock. I stroked her forehead and pushed her dark brown hair out of her hazelnut eyes. I wanted to kiss her forehead, like grandma used to do when Polona hurt me, but I didn’t dare. Instead, I held her hand.
“I’ll be fine. It’s just a small break,” Mrs. Reynolds said to comfort me, which didn’t make sense, because she needed the comfort. Tears dripped off my chin and landed in her eyes as I stroked her forehead and squeezed her hand.
“I’ll be fine,” Mrs. Reynolds said, blinked, and shifted to avoid my tear drops.
I nodded and whispered, “I know, but please don’t die.”
Sirens scared me, and I jolted Mrs. Reynold’s shoulder. She screamed, and I apologized, again, and again. I should know what to do, I do know what to do, but I couldn’t do it. I learned to stabilize the shoulder, but I didn’t do it, and she might die, low probability, but still possible.
The sirens stopped, and someone shouted something that I didn’t understand.
“Back here,” Mrs. Reynolds yelled, then grunted and bit her lip.
“Shhh, don’t speak, you’ll hurt yourself,” I whispered and tried to hold her still, as she shifted and moved in my arms.