The Angel Next Door - Cover

The Angel Next Door

Copyright© 2007 by Col. Jack Harrison

Chapter 1

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Vicky Bali is a nice and gregarious Canadian girl, so it's not surprising that her neighbor would fall for her. What is shocking is what kind of secrets he has to tell the teenage girl who loves him back and wants him to take her cherry. Will the virgin next door and the lecherous American expatriate be compatible?

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Ma/Ma   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Mind Control   Magic   Gay   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   TransGender   Fiction   Science Fiction   Historical   Extra Sensory Perception   Paranormal   Incest   Mother   Daughter   InLaws   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Rough   Swinging   Gang Bang   Group Sex   Orgy   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Interracial   White Male   Oriental Female   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Fisting   Sex Toys   Pregnancy   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Slow   Violence   Workplace   Transformation   Nudism  

Vicky Bali wasn't a normal resident of her small Ontario town. For one thing, most of her neighbors had lived in this part of the province for a good century or more. They were also generally Caucasian and members of some Christian sect or another.

Well, her father was still a Hindu, proud of his Balinese heritage (from which he took a shorter and simpler name when he emigrated to Canada). Her mother, however, was Greek Orthodox, though she didn't regain her fervor until after the end of their 8 year marriage. In any case, neither of them was too strict with her, as she was the younger of their two children. She grew up more with her mom, even if she was very fond of her dad.

Her brother Indra had been assigned to his father's primary custody, under the divorce settlement which intended for each child to have access to role models of their own gender. This avoided a bitter court dispute and psychological harm to the children. It seemed like a fair arrangement, too. Vicky was to learn better how to be a woman from her mom, and Indra was to be shown the example of his father when it came to manhood.

There were plenty of people in the town who were nice and likeable, but Vicky stood out for her cheery nature. That didn't mean that she was always sunshine and light, but she tended to stay in good moods and avoid bad ones easier than most in her community. No one hated Vicky, at least on the surface. She was an outgoing, friendly, and upbeat kind of gal.

She wasn't a perfect girl, of course. She lacked drive, motivation, and any kind of real ambition or sense of direction in life. She liked to spend her days chatting, helping people, and having fun. This included mischief, but it was usually the harmless kind. The old expression, "wouldn't hurt a flea," fit no one better than Vicky. She tended to pout and whine sometimes, but only when she had already charmed the person in question. It was mostly her passive-aggressive, non-confrontational way of getting people to do things for her.

Since she had a big heart, however, she didn't usually think of herself long enough to be a real nuisance with the whining. It was just a matter of when she really had a strong desire for something, more than was usually true. That was about as close to nagging or bullying as she got, so it never gained her a bad reputation.

The summer after Vicky turned 13, a brand new neighbor moved into town. His age wasn't really clear, nor was his sexuality. People were very confused and uncertain about him, so naturally rumors flew across the neighborhood. For one thing, he lived completely alone, and he had plenty of liquid cash. His job, on the other hand, was well known. He had opened the town's third pub, and it did very well once he got his liquor license.

Vicky met him in person a week after he moved into his new house, a fairly decent Tudor-style home. Unlike several on her street who found the new resident a bit nerve-wracking, she wanted to give him a fair chance before being cold to him. It didn't seem fair to her to prejudice herself against him for the vague reasons given by her neighbors. The only specific excuse anyone had given was that he was an American, but that was hardly a good cause for mistrusting him, was it?

"Hi, there. Are you Robert Sebastian?" she asked him, having heard his name, but wanting a pretext to introduce herself.

"Yes, I am. What's your name, young lady?" he answered, as he took his trash to the street.

"Victoria Bali, but everyone calls me Vicky," she smiled at him, once more using her charm.

"Well, Vicky, call me Robert. I would say Bob, but it doesn't fit a surname like mine. I guess that you're enjoying summer break, right?" he teased her, trying to be nice to this neighbor who wasn't as distant with him.

"True, but it never lasts long enough. You have a pub, don't you?"

"Yes, it's the new one, and should do fine once the liquor board approves me. I've always wanted to run a bar, excuse me, pub. I'm still used to the American term," Robert explained.

"Think that you'll still be running it when I'm old enough to drink?" she needled him.

"I imagine so. That would be, what, 6 or 7 years? I'm guessing that you're around 12 or 13. Hell, I'll even make your first drink on the house, if you're still as friendly as you are now," he grinned.

"For me? Well, it's a good thing that I like people, isn't it? I'm thirteen, by the way. But, thank you, and I will hold you to that," the teenager winked at him.

"By all means, as I am a man of my word," Robert flirted back.

There was no way that he would ever make any moves on a girl her age, but that didn't keep him from enjoying her coquettish routine. Besides, flirting with an adolescent girl helped her feel pretty and reduced her insecurity. As long as he didn't try to seduce her at such a young age, they should be fine. Whatever his quarrels with puritanical sex laws, Robert Sebastian was used to the age of consent in his own country. He had no idea that the laws were more liberal in Canada, of course.

Then again, he had been around for a long time, and he had learned the value of patience. It certainly occurred to him that Vicky might make a great lover someday, but she would need time and growth to reach the kind of maturity needed to be his girl. No matter how great a person she might be, 13 was far too young for a serious romance.

Even if he had known that he could legally have sex with a 14 year old girl, he had no desire to knock her up and cause her to fail her classes. Sex was fun, for certain, but it could be experienced later. One would only be in junior high and get to enjoy those years once. He wanted the girl to have her chance to learn and experience things like the prom. He could keep it in his pants where she was concerned for a few years.

None of that got in the mind of a nearly constant flirtation between the older man and the young lady. They spent a great deal of time together, and in that respect, the constant questions about Robert's sexuality helped out. Whatever her misgivings about same-sex encounters, Mrs. Bali would feel a lot safer if her daughter was with a man that she thought to be gay.

Nor was her trust abused. Robert was a great mentor and friend to Vicky, always maintaining enough boundaries to let everyone be cool with their apparently platonic relationship. He consoled her when she was hurt by boys whom she liked, which happened increasingly, despite her sweet nature. There were, sadly, plenty of youths who didn't mind breaking her heart and taking advantage of her kindness. They treated her as a doormat in some cases, and he often encouraged her to confront them about it.

Vicky being Vicky, of course, she wasn't able to do too much in the way of confrontation, and that was admittedly part of her appeal to Robert. She wasn't shy. She was smart, fun-loving, and easygoing. That was just how she was, the butterfly type, who charmed and helped people. That was her way, to be lively and playful, as well as very compassionate.

As for Robert, there were always rumors about him, even 5 years after he had arrived in town. There were men and women leaving his house in the morning every other day. All of them seemed to be happy, so that was never a problem. He never lied to any of his partners about his lecherous ways. Male or female, he was good to them, and they never pressured him for a commitment. For one reason or another, he didn't want to settle down, and they all accepted his inclinations.

The neighbors grumbled a bit about him at times, but he was otherwise a cool guy. Several folks didn't like that he was mysterious in some ways, but it often added to his appeal with many people. One could talk to him in the pub and not feel as if he judged him. Then again, that was the barkeep's trick. It was an old trade secret, to be a friend to all patrons and listen more than talk. Since he didn't have to say much himself, he learned far more about others than they did about him.

Admittedly, he never took on a Canadian accent or local figures of speech. He was still the resident "Yank", a bit exotic or strange by definition. For some, that made him suspicious. For others, it just plain made him interesting. Sometimes, he felt as if he was almost an unofficial ambassador. For his part, Robert really embraced the idea that there wasn't all that much of a difference between Americans and Canadians. Aside from spelling and some political things, he might as well have been living in parts of Michigan or upstate New York most of the time.

When she was 16, Vicky started to notice that her feelings about Robert had grown more serious, but she didn't know what to say or do about it. For whatever reason, he hadn't made any moves on her, and she wasn't sure if he just flirted with her for fun or there was something more to it. She was tired of the chumps that she dated in high school, and really wanted a grown man already. It was one thing if she had been very ambitious and wanted a corporate career, but she didn't. She would love nothing more than to stay with a man and belong to him.

For that reason, Vicky had refused to do anything more than hand jobs and oral sex for her boyfriends. She was still a virgin, because she had decided that losing it was a one-time event and she didn't want to miss the chance to experience it with Robert. If anyone could teach her about sex and make her enjoy it more the first time, it would be him. None of her relationships lasted, but now she started to break them off herself. She wasn't all that assertive in general, nor was she mean about it. She just couldn't bring herself to string a boy along.

When she reached 18, after 2 years of indecision, she realized that it was time to start opening up more to Robert about the one thing that she had hidden from him: her infatuation with her mature, handsome neighbor. Would he understand about this, and what would happen with them? Would he agree to bed her, and if so, under what conditions?

"Robert, can we talk about something private?" she told him at last, on the first day of her summer holiday, after graduating from high school.

"Vicky, you know we can always do that. What is the matter? Are you upset about something? Is it a boy?" he probed, not really sure, and doubting that his attraction to her was truly reciprocated.

"Not really," she smiled, keeping him in suspense as she flirted again.

"Okay, a girl, then?" he taunted her in their usual, light-hearted way.

"No, don't be silly! It's a man," she grinned, but with a look in her eyes that was unmitigated lust. It wasn't really a game, anymore. She would win his heart, eventually, she had resolved by now.

"Lucky bastard! I hope that he doesn't act like a fool and hurt you like those other morons," Robert blurted, unaware of what she meant.

"I'm glad that you think that way, since the guy in question is you," Vicky announced, much to her host's complete shock.

"Cat got your tongue, Robert?" she asked, and then kissed him with her usual enthusiasm.

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