Chapter 1

I had just stepped out of the house on my way downtown to pick up some things to make dinner. Just as I got halfway down the driveway, I looked over the four-foot-tall hedge separating my yard from the neighbors. In the next driveway stood Carol Young, looking at the old wooden office desk in the back of the rental truck parked in front of her garage.

“Hi, Miss Young! Been rummage sale shopping again, I see!” I called out, waving to her.

“Yes, I have! Say, Jason, could you give me a hand, please?” she said. I pocketed my keys and walked over to see what she needed.

“What’s up, Miss Young? Need a hand unloading that desk?” I asked.

“Yes, I do. Would you be a dear and help me. I need to get it off this truck and into the house so I can return the truck to the rental place,” she said.

“Sure, I’d be happy to give you a hand. Tell you what, if you’ll take the drawers out, I will go get the hand truck from my garage. It will make moving this heavy oak desk a whole lot easier!” I told her.

“Okay,” she said.

“Be right back then,” I said, and then I went to get the heavy-duty hand truck I had bought when I replaced my washing machine and dryer a few months earlier.

A few moments later, I returned. “I brought an old wool military blanket to pad the desk – I don’t want to scratch up your new treasure!” I said.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “I got all the drawers out and they are already inside where I want to put this desk.”

“Good. That will lighten things up a bit and give us some handholds to grab onto this thing, as well!” I said.

I rolled the hand truck up the moving truck’s ramp and got it in position. I threw the blanket over the top, and when I got it where I was satisfied it was placed properly, I carefully tipped the desk on it back with what was the top, still covered with the blanket and up against the hand truck. I strapped it in place so it wouldn’t shift or fall off, and then I wheeled it down the ramp and into the house using the double front doors.

“I’m sure glad it hasn’t rained lately – I’d hate to get this pretty white carpet dirty!” I said, looking down at the light-colored carpet.

“Oh, don’t worry about the carpet, honey, it’s due to be cleaned anyway!” she said. “You can just set it here. I will move it to its final location later. Thank you so much for your help, Jason. I saw this desk at an antique store, but didn’t think about how I was going to get it home! I rented the truck at the suggestion of the store owner, but still needed a big strong man to help me! I’m sure lucky I caught you, you are a lifesaver!”

“No problem, Miss Young. I’m glad I could help. Just give me a call when you are ready to move it to its final location and I will give you a hand,” I told her.

“You are a dear. I will, thank you,” she said. And then I left to go on about my grocery shopping.

It was a little over a week later and I was out in the driveway, cleaning the inside of my car when I heard Miss Young calling me. “Jason, is that you?”

“Yes, it is,” I said, standing up.

“If you aren’t terribly busy, do you think I could borrow those big, strong arms of yours again?” she asked.

“Sure, Miss Young. Give me about five minutes to finish this and I’ll be right over!” I said.

“All right, take your time, there’s no hurry,” she said and went back in her house.

“Sorry about that, I was right in the middle of cleaning the car and I needed to finish up so the stuff I was using wouldn’t dry on it, it is a pain to get off if it does!” I said, a few minutes later when I came over. “What can I do for you?”

“You remember that old desk? Well, I would like to move it into place if I could get your help,” she said.

“Sure, Do you happen to have some hard plastic coasters or maybe some old saucers?” I asked.

“I have some saucers, why?” she asked.

“A friend who worked for a moving company showed me a trick – you put a saucer or coaster under each leg and it slides on the carpet a lot easier,” I said.

“How clever! I’ll get them!” she said, and a moment later came back with four small Melamine saucers.

I put one under each corner of the desk and tested it. Sure enough, it slid easily across the carpet. “Okay, where would you like it?” I asked her.

“Can you just slide it into the den over there? I’m turning the den into my home office and I want to use the desk there,” she said.

I pushed it across the living room and into her new office, positioning it where she wanted it. I removed the four saucers from under the desk and took them into the kitchen putting them in the sink.

Then I returned to the den to find a surprise waiting for me ... Miss Young had taken the top of her dress down and was holding her bra in her hands!

“WHAT THE...? Miss Young! What are you doing?” I asked as I quickly turned my head so as not to look.

She sauntered up to me and put a hand to my face, turning it to look at her. “What’s the matter, Jason? Don’t you think I’m attractive?” she purred. She shook her firm D-cup tits as she moved closer. I have to admit, my eyes were fixed on the bouncing globes, hypnotized by the way they moved.

“W-Well yes, Miss Young, but...” I said.

“Charlene ... my name is Charlene, Jason. I’ve seen you watching me when I’m outside in the backyard sunbathing. I know you’re just wishing that you could have this body. Fantasizing about tapping this ass and fucking this pussy ... haven’t you, baby?” she purred.

“I ... I...” I stammered, unable to make sensible words.

“Relax Jason honey, it’s okay. Want to know a secret? I’ve had my fantasies about you as well!” she said.

“You have?” I asked, stunned.

“Sure. Don’t think I haven’t noticed when you are outside with your shirt off cutting the grass or working on your car or something. Or when you are in your room – you know our bedrooms face each other. I can see into your windows when you have the shades open and I’ve seen you getting ready for bed some nights. Of course, it’s only from about the middle of your chest up, but I’ve often dreamed about what the rest of that looked like,” she said, biting a corner of her bottom lip coyly.

“But Miss Young ... you are a beautiful model – you can have any man you want! Why me?” I asked.

“Please call me Charlene, Jason. Calling me ‘Miss Young’ is so stiff and formal, I want us to be friends, and friends call each other by their first names. And as for having any man I want, well there’s a downside to being a beautiful model, as you put it.

You see, men are afraid to talk to me. Ironic isn’t it ... we go to such great lengths to make ourselves attractive to men and when we do, they are afraid to talk to us! I guess they are afraid we will shoot them down or that they aren’t good enough to date us. But in the end, it just leaves us lonely and all we want is someone to want us,” she said, sadly.

“I never thought about it like that,” I said.

“Well, it’s true. You don’t know how many times I have wished I had someone here just to keep me from talking to myself and to keep me warm at night. Someone to love and who would love me back. And you don’t know how many times I stared out my bedroom window wishing I could somehow telepathically tell you to come over,” she said.

“Really?” I asked.

“Mmmhmm. You are a good looking guy Jason, and what’s more, you have always been nice and friendly and courteous towards me. To tell you the truth, the women of this town don’t like me very much because I make their husband’s heads turn. They are terribly jealous and possessive and afraid I will steal their man away from them. And the men here are afraid to talk to me because of their wives.

“I’m like the Jezebel of this town, even though I’ve never tried to come on to any of them or interfere with their marriages or anything like that. Just because of how I look and how I dress I am an outcast. And I hate it.

“A girl’s got to eat, you know, and I was blessed to be able to use my looks to earn a nice living. I look the way I look because this was what I was born with. And I dress this way because it’s all I know. I have been modeling for a long time, now, and I don’t know how to dress any other way. My closet is full of these high fashion clothes because everything is custom fit for me so I can show it off. I don’t have any regular clothes to speak of!” she said.

“I never realized...” I said.

“It’s not your fault. Like I said, you are one of the very few who has always been nice to me,” she said. Then she moved closer and put one arm around my neck.