Chapter 1: The New Folks

It was some time last Spring that the people moved into the vacant flat upstairs. We met them briefly on the stairs, a couple in their late 30s, with two great looking kids, a boy 11 years of age or thereabouts, and a quiet but pretty daughter going on 14. The boy was fair with a clear, healthy complexion; he looked well built for his age. His sister was the same, but her hair was darker, and this contrasted nicely with the white blouse and regulation school skirt, worn slightly above the knee. Her body was beginning to fill out. We exchanged the usual pleasantries with the parents, and I went up later that day to check all was working out for them. It occurred to me that the girl might well be of interest to our one and only son, Tom, who was just approaching 17 and was beginning to show the usual signs of acute interest in the females of the species.

The guy introduced himself as Larry, and his wife was Jill, or actually Gillian I think. He was lean, fit, and energetic. She seemed very feminine, and rather withdrawn and shy, a bit like her daughter, though there was a kind on intensity about her that caught one's attention. She had a nice figure, although her body was partly disguised by some prim and proper city clothes. She smiled softly at me as we left, and Larry patted me on the shoulder and said, "See you around". I went back downstairs thinking they were a nice family to have as new neighbours.

As for the girl, she certainly caught Tom's attention. All day long the new folks were going up and down the stairs, carrying boxes and household items. You could hardly go out of the door without bumping into someone panting in exertion as they heaved something up to the third floor, or dashing back down to the street. Tom almost had a collision with the girl, her arms full of books and papers and breathing hard under the effort. She slipped as they passed on her way up, and one or two things clattered onto the steps. Tom swung round to give her a hand with them, and she crouched down a little above him. He had hardly noticed her till then, but suddenly he was confronted with a young female at close quarters whose skirt had slid up her thighs and showed off a pair of white knickers as she struggled to reach the spilled books. She could virtually feel his breath on her knees, they were so close. Alicia - for that was her name - blushed as she realised this boy must be able to see right up her skirt.

"I'm so sorry", he stuttered, "clumsy me."

But the look on his face was far from apologetic. Their eyes met, and she looked down quickly, pulling her thighs together and tugging at the hem of her grey skirt in a vain attempt to hide the white strip of a slightly bulging crotch from view.

"I suppose you'll be starting school round here?" Tom added, looking back up at her face.

"On Monday, at St Joseph's" she replied.

"Good. So I'll see you around. I started in the upper Sixth last September. You'll be in the fourth year, I suppose."

The girl nodded shyly. Tom turned and continued down the stairs. She was a pretty little thing, he thought, with her dark hair, big brown eyes and ever so delicious bottom. So quiet and demure. A cherry ripe for the plucking? A juicy cherry if only you can reach it! And so convenient, living right above!