Chapter 1: Close Knit

It didn't take long after the For Sale sign went up at the Cocksworths' former residence for an incoming family's moving truck to show up in their driveway. Something about that house, turning over so often. Had some witch cast a curse over it, preventing residents from staying too long? If so, there was a sexual aspect to the curse, given how many young women I'd coupled with within its walls. My curiosity boiled over. A family with grown kids? Maybe a young couple buying their first house? Even better, a sorority! We aren't all that far from a local college. Maybe they have initiations that call for male volunteers –

The doorbell interrupted my reverie, dozens of nubile co-eds in various states of undress.

A woman I guessed to be at least a few years past my age, based on the volume of grey hair and wrinkles, stood on my stoop with a smile and a large knitting bag hanging on her shoulder. Needles stuck out from the top. "Hello there. I'm Clara Bichano, your new neighbor." She pointed to the Cocksworths' place. "May I use your telephone, please?"

"Sure." I opened the screen door. "Come on in. It's on the table in the hallway."

She walked over and picked up the receiver. "Those phone company people can be so unreliable. They were supposed to have my service up and running by now. I can't stand unreliability, don't you?"

This woman was a piece of work. Wearing a long knit dress in eighty-degree heat? "Nice outfit."

"Thanks, I made it myself. That's my passion, truth be told. Most all my clothes are off my own two needles." She pulled a slip of paper from the bag on her arm and tapped buttons on the phone. "I'm calling a rug cleaner. There are yellow stains on the living room and bedroom carpets. The Cocksworths must have had pets or been sloppy eaters."

I swallowed hard. "Really?" Those stains were my sperm from fucking the Cocksworth twins, or maybe Harry's twelve inch cock leaked around the house.

She cradled the receiver to her ear, pulled out the two needles and continued work on some item while talking to me. "I should warn you, I'll be having lots of company. Family, to be specific. Oh, and there'll be trucks and workmen for the next week or so. I'm putting in a swimming pool."

"Really?" Nice amenity, and the opportunity for bikinis and skinny-dipping. God, can't I ever get my mind out of the gutter?

"For your inconvenience, you'll all be welcome to use it, of course. Neighbors can be like family. In fact, let me knit you something." She hung up. "You call the phone company, and there's no answer. That's irony for you." She stuffed the incomplete knitted whatever in her bag. "A swimsuit, that's an obvious choice."

"I have swimsuits." Baggy ones, so my erection doesn't show.

"Posh! Something else, perhaps?"

"A scarf? I'm a big Dr. Who fan, and the Tom Baker version –"

"Of course. Perfect!" She glanced into the bag. "Tsk. I'll have to go out and get the right colors, to make it authentic."

"Don't go to that trouble. Use anything you have laying around. A random mix will look just as good."

Clara shot me a stern look, like a teacher staring down a naughty student. And I was naughty, wasn't I? "A Tom Baker scarf is not to be dallied with. It's a classic! There's a right way and a wrong way to everything, that's what I always say." She whipped a cloth tape measure from her bag. "Now, let me take some measurements."

"For the scarf?"

"No, silly. I have the precise colors and dimensions at home, or at least packed away in one of my boxes. So many boxes to handle. For the swimsuit." She snapped the tape measure like a belt. "Now, drop your drawers so I can take accurate measurements."

I hesitated.

"Come, come, I've seen plenty of men in their skivvies. And a lot less."

No harm, I guess. My pants hit the floor.

She put her arms around me to take my waist measurement. That put us body to body. Although she wasn't my type, the incidental hug got my penis going. Shit, she'll see my erection and get the wrong idea.

She completed my waist measurement and jotted it on a page of a notebook. "Now, your inseam. Spread your legs, honey. Would you like it long or brief?"

The lump in my jockeys was obvious.

Clara giggled as her knuckles grazed my balls and the underside of my erection. "Never mind, I'll make it long. You'll require expansion room, I can see. You're very lucky, but your wife and lady friends are luckier." She broke into a laugh. "You're the first serious competition for Mr. Stiffy I've seen in a long while."

Huh?

Her voice was sing-song. "Do what you do, do well, that's what I always say. All righty, pull them up. I'm finished."

I had to ask. "Who's Mister Stiffy?"

Clara pulled a flesh-colored dildo from her knitting bag. "A girl needs company at any age, rightly?" She stroked the veined imitation penis, and then tossed it back in her bag. "Nice to meet you."

We shook hands. I almost expected the 'fuck me' handshake, index finger curled under, but no suck luck. Her ass swayed as she strutted down our walk whistling and returned to her side of the street.

Gee, a neighborhood swimming pool right across the street. Maybe Annie's friends will use it to hang out. Hmm, I wonder how a knit bikini holds up when wet?

Two weeks later, Clara, my new across-the-street neighbor, called with an urgent request. "I'm hosting my niece Reid for a visit. She wants to swim in my new pool. It's certainly warm enough, but she's not very skilled. I'd watch her myself, but an emergency has come up. I was wondering, could you play lifeguard for maybe half an hour? Besides, it will give you a chance to use the bathing suit I knitted for you." She chortled.

"It's done already?" There had only been that one measurement session, where Clara groped me between my legs.

"Oh yes, and it's one of my most unique creations. To deal with your extended physiology."

She meant my dick. In every bathing suit I'd ever owned, an erection was as obvious as the nose on my face. An eight-inch nose. I was more than curious. "Sure, I'll watch your niece." I didn't admit that the dog paddle was the extent of my swimming prowess. I'd just keep Reid out of the deep end. Problem avoided.

I crossed the street, looking both ways. Some of the teens in the neighborhood were driving now, and my street had more than its share of hot-rodding.

Clara greeted me at the front door with a clump of red and blue material in her hand. "Thank you, Mr. Marcus. Now put this on and I'll introduce you to my niece. She's cooling her heels out back."

Clara handed me a mass of knit tentacles. I held up the red swimming suit, which was adorned with over a dozen blue protruding tubes. Each was a knit cylinder about six inches long, filled with foam, sticking out. Was this some kind of joke? "I can't wear this."

"Oh, but you must. I made it especially for your condition. You'll see." She pointed to the powder room on the first floor. I'd cleaned up there once after sex with Randi and Brandi. "Go on."

I locked the door, so that Clara didn't bust in while I was undressed. I slipped out of my clothes and stacked them on the floor. It was impossible to tell the front of the swimsuit from the back until I examined the tentacles more closely. All of them except one was filled with a foam insert, making them stand away from the body. However, one was hollow. Ah ha! I pulled the suit up my legs, keeping the empty tentacle in front. With my dick flaccid, it fit nicely in the knit cylinder, hanging down. The other tentacles were elevated, camouflaging my organ. And, if for some reason I got an erection, my dick would look like just another foam protrusion. Clara was brilliant! This is the kind of creativity Zenellis would have rewarded. After taking a series of compromising pictures for blackmail, of course.

I opened the door. Clara stood, admiring her work.

"How does it fit?" she asked.

"You did a great job."

"Yes, I did." She reached forward and gave the only limp tentacle an extended squeeze. "Just keep the suit dry."

Her grope caused some inflation. Now my penis was a perfect match for its foam-filled neighbors. Keeping a bathing suit dry made no sense, but she was the fabricator, so I nodded.

"Follow me out back. You haven't seen the pool, have you?" She paused at the back door. "Before I introduce you, you should know the reason Reid is here is. My sister doesn't know how to deal with Reid's insatiable curiosity about sex."

Great, leaving me alone with a sexually curious young woman. I knew how this would end, and it hadn't started.

Clara continued, "She's been asking questions, and I've done my best to answer them. But she's very vulnerable right now; so as much as you might be tempted, don't do anything with her while I'm away. Agreed?"

"Fine by me. I'm just here to keep her water-safe."

In all of my visits to the Cockerels', I had never looked out into their backyard. Clara had made quite an investment. The deck material was simulated stone with a grippy surface, to prevent slips and accidents. The pool itself was a rectangle with rounded corners. Lanes had been painted for serious swimming. "I do a couple dozen laps every morning. It's great exercise." At the far end were two diving boards, one low and one much higher, at least from my perspective.

Sitting on a nylon mesh chair was a young lady in a terrycloth robe down to her knees. She was slim with her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. The slight pattern continued with her legs. Her eyes went wide at the sight of me, or perhaps it was my unique bathing suit.

"Mr. Marcus, this is my niece." Reid held out her arm. Her handshake was like a wet noodle. Reid needed lessons on her grip. "Reid, Mr. Marcus has agreed to watch you while I'm gone."

Reid crossed her arms on her chest. "I don't need a babysitter."

I hadn't thought of my role in that light, but Reid was right. This time, I was the babysitter. "You won't even know I'm here," I said.

"Mr. Marcus won't be obtrusive," said Clara. "Stay in the shallow end of the pool until I get back and test you."

"Oh, Auntie."

Clara strutted away. For an old broad, she still knew how to shake her ass.

Reid's sour expression lasted until she looked back at me. The sight of my octopus suit brought a smile back to her face. "Did Auntie knit that for you?"

I nodded. "She says she knits all the time."

Reid came closer and batted at one of the tentacles. Phew, a foam one. "I think it's cute. If you were a superhero, they'd call you PenisMan."

Her first sexual comment. I tried to keep a straight face. Ignore her and she'll stop.

"She made my suit too." Reid opened her robe. Reid had a nice shape, too nice to ignored. The bulk of her height was from her legs. On top, the bikini was form fit. The cups covered her half-globe breasts precisely, with strings holding the cups to her chest. On the bottom, her crotch was wrapped in matching blue, with strings around her flared hips, tied at the sides. The rest of Reid's body was bare, available for inspection. "What do you think?" She did a model's turn. Her ass was round with not a hint of sag. Expected at her age. How old was she, anyway? No matter, I promised hands off.

"Clara certainly matches form with function," I said.

"Can I show you my dive?" Reid asked. "I've been practicing at school." The ponytail must have slipped, because she raised her hands above her head to tighten it. Reid's chest pushed forward, the strings taut. I wondered how much tension it would take for the top to pop, so I could see those perfectly shaped tits.

I was tempted to ask what school. College meant legal. High school left the question open, but probably not. "You heard your aunt. Shallow end."

Reid jumped into the knee-high water. "Are you coming in? I need someone to play with."

It wasn't going to be me. "No thanks." Clara had warned me off getting the suit wet. So, if there was a problem, what was I supposed to do? Throw Reid a life preserver? A quick glance around the pool area told me that wasn't an option.

A wave of water doused me. Reid laughed and sprayed me again. She had a supply of ammunition while I was a stationary target, defenseless. Since I couldn't go in, she was safe from retaliation.

Reid was no dummy. She edged her way around until she was in the deep end. Oh shit! Then she grabbed the lower diving board and worked her way towards the far end. She must have had more arm strength than was evident from her physique and handshake, because she lifted herself up onto the board from the water. The top half of her body was prone against the board, her ass sticking out. Only a string ruined the butt landscape. God, her ass cheeks were round. Her legs flailed as she tried to climb the rest of the way onto the board. Flashes of crotch from thighs opening and closing had the expected result. Now my dick rose higher than any of the foam filled appendages.

Reid made it up and was standing on the board, hands on her hips. "Watch this."

"Don't!" I tried to be authoritative without any reasonable threat to back me up.

"Okay, I'll use the higher board." She scampered off one and onto the other before I could run the length of the pool. I thought about rushing onto the board, but she might jump out. Instead, I took a place at the side of the deep end. "Have you used a board that high?" I asked.

"Nope, but what's the diff? All boards are the same."

I was about to explain about tension adjustments and spring, but I was too late. She'd backed up and skipped the short length, pausing to bounce on the end. Except the board sprung back fast. Her legs took the impact, buckling her knees and passing the stored momentum up her body. She leaned, tilted and fell forward. Her foot thumped against the end of the board as she toppled. Damn! She went under, unprepared.

The hell with the suit and Clara's warning. I jumped in, cannonball style and opened my eyes. The chlorine burned. Reid was two feet under; eyes and mouth wide open in a silent scream. I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her up. She coughed and spit as we broke the surface, but at least she was breathing. With only one hand to paddle, it took a while for me to get us to the edge by a ladder. I pushed her up first. One hand on her bare ass was necessary to get her out. Yes, I enjoyed the feeling, but this was a rescue, not a seduction. I climbed out after her. She'd collapsed on the grass, curled up in fetal position, coughing. I helped her to her feet and led to a concrete bench, one of many bordering the pool. She leaned forward, still spitting up water. Her drenched bikini top sagged away from her body. The upper curves of her tits were exposed. No droop at all.

"See what happens when you don't listen." I used my best disregarded-father demeanor. "You could have drowned."

Reid looked up. Her eyes got big and her mouth opened. I glanced down. All of the foam filled tubes sagged after absorbing water. Only the one holding my dick stood outright. Damn, that's why Clara warned me away. So now what?

"What's wrong with your swimsuit?" she asked. She leaned closer.

To prevent her from grabbing hold, I backed away, several feet. "I don't know what you mean." I turned my back, praying for my erection to subside.

Reid jogged around in front of me, within arms reach. "It looks like there's a problem with your suit. Mine too. See?" She spread the material around one breast. A nipple was trapped between the knits and purls. "It pinches real bad." In a smooth motion she pulled the top off her tits and over her head. So that's how it would happen. The breast flesh was firm and remained the same shape without support. And her two nipples were fiercely erect. She rubbed her breasts, letting her fingers flick the nipples. "Do you like my tities?" she asked. "Do you think I'm sexy? I, mean, since they're so small?"