Seducing the Neighbor Ch. 02
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Saturday passed uneventfully — just a blur of random coffee shops, dawdling in shops, phoning parents, phoning out-of-town friends to catch up, pottering around at home, housework and preparing for the next week of work. Boring! Yet, this was my life. I was used to it, if not very satisfied.
Then, suddenly, Sunday was different. I woke up to the sound of a truck pulling up outside. Metal doors banged noisily; the sound of rough men’s voices barking orders rent the still Sunday morning. What on Earth? Still slightly bleary-eyed at 8:00am, I swung my long legs over the side of my queen-sized double bed, moved the quilt out of the way, and stood up. Peering through the curtains of the windows, I looked down to see a removal truck parked outside the house next door.
Oh, yeah, I thought. That’s right. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson had moved out to a new place, way out in the Georgia countryside — now in their fifties, they had decided to move to a smaller, quieter place, although I couldn’t see what was wrong with this quiet street right now. Mind you, there were the school buses roaring up and down twice a day. They could be noisy, so perhaps that was it. I had been friendly to them but not particularly close, since they were so much older than me.
I wondered what the new neighbors would be like. A young family with kids? Not tearaways yelling and screaming in the backyard, I hoped. A retired couple? I would have to wait to find out.
Feeling suitably awakened, I headed downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. Over yogurt and a banana and an Americano, I contemplated the day. What could I do to fill the intervening hours before bedtime?
I tutted. For goodness’ sake, Cathy, I remonstrated with myself. Get a life! Other people would kill to have so much free time! I looked around. The dishes needed washing. I had laundry to do. The garbage needed taking out. Then there was lunch to cook later, if I felt like cooking. Maybe I could visit a nice restaurant instead; or order takeout.
I held my head in my hands. ANYTHING to kill the boredom. I gazed at the empty, plastic yogurt carton and the banana skin – more garbage. Suddenly annoyed, I slapped my hand down on the kitchen table and glared at my half-drunk coffee mug. STUFF IT! I’m done with this!
Getting up, I grabbed the mug and went over to stare out of the kitchen window at the backyard. What was the matter with me? Didn’t I have a fantastic modeling agency — with a great bunch of women? A convivial atmosphere? Values everyone at work agreed to? A glamorous career? Yet it seemed the models had more fun than I did.
I bet Bonnie and Krystal and Amelia were having a fantastic weekend. I thought over the probable sexcapades they had got up to on Friday night. Huh. Sometimes I wondered whether it was strictly necessary to maintain the “no fraternizing” rule I had. Ethically, it was correct. Nobody should be having sex with their boss, no matter how open-minded I may be, no matter if all of us were female with zero chance of some sleazy older guy harassing us, trying to get fresh, forcing sexual assault or the horrific stories of rape that happened in fashion companies with the women they hired.
That was the whole point of my different approach – to allow the women to escape all that. If I started getting in on their action, that would destroy the whole thing.
Yet the rule also doomed me to a life of dull, tedious, managerial efficiency, an unsexy “mom” role to the models and I was left carrying the can. I didn’t mind that so much, since it was my own choice and my own company, yet it meant I had to skip most of the fun stuff about being a model. If I wanted a life, I would need to get out and about, and develop a completely different circle of friends. I sighed. Perhaps I needed a hobby.
Reluctantly, I busied myself for the first half of the morning with the aforementioned chores, without much enthusiasm. I was just starting to think about possibly cooking lunch while examining the contents of my refrigerator, when the doorbell rang.
What! Now who could that be? I never get visitors. I couldn’t afford to invite the models to my place — that might be fraternizing, too — and who knows what would happen if Bonnie showed up…
“Wait, I’ll be there!” I cried out, rushing for the door. Perhaps it was the new couple who just moved in next door. I pursed my lips, unsure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Finally, I made it to the door. I peered through the small hole in the door. I was surprised to see a young man. Good-looking he was, too. Hmmm.
I opened the door and came face-to-face with an absolute vision of male beauty. He looked tall, about six feet two, with dark brown, almost black hair, a high forehead, and dark eyes. A fair complexion, with an earnest expression and a slightly boyish air on his face. Further down, I saw broad shoulders and a wide, developed chest, encased in a polo shirt with two buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of possibly muscled pecs. Strong, bonus veren siteler quite thick arms, with good muscle tone, were bared, while some casual, cream chinos and white plimsoll shoes with red and white lines completed the look.
“Hi.” The vision spoke.
Looking back up at his face, I opened my eyes wide and smiled, shyly. “Hello,” I replied.
“Sorry to bother you,” he continued, “but I’ve just moved in next door, and I thought I might meet the neighbors.”
“Oh, sure,” I managed.
He proffered his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Daniel Colston.”
I took his hand and shook it. “Cathy Dixon,” I said.
He looked at me for a few seconds, his eyes sizing me up, perhaps. “I see. Well, I’ve finished moving in, mainly — I’ve just got some boxes to unpack, and stuff — but all the furniture’s in place.”
“Sounds great,” I remarked. “Are you with anyone else?”
“No, actually,” he continued, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I live alone. I’ve just had a permanent job offer from my internship, and I’ve decided to take it up.”
“Yeah. So I’ve decided to settle in the neighborhood for now — maybe for a couple of years.”
“Oh.” Something didn’t add up. “Forgive me for asking, but you look kind of young to be buying a house.”
“No, I’m renting.”
“Oh! Well, the couple before, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, sold up.”
“Sure, but it’s been bought by a property management company — the same company I work for, in fact.”
“Now they want me to rent it from them while I do my university study.”
“STUDY? You mean you’re not a graduate?”
“No, not yet. I took an AP class at high school in Business Studies and decided to take the opportunity to work for a property management firm over last summer. I figured if I had real-world experience, I would be more committed to my studies. As it turned out, they were pleased with me over the summer, so they offered a grant to fund my university studies the following year. They offered part time work, so I’ll study my four-year degree over eight years.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure I would want to commit to a company for eight years and rely on them to fund my studies.”
“That’s what I thought at first. However, with the offer to rent this house, plus no student loan to pay back when I’m done, I figure it’s worth the risk.”
“I guess that’s true — student debt these days — it’s like an albatross.”
“It sure is — I think it should be canceled, really.”
“Oh, really? Are you a student, too?”
“HA! I wish! Thanks! Actually, no — I run a modeling agency.”
Now it was his turn to be surprised. “WOW! Cool!”
His child-like enthusiasm was endearing. “Yeah, well, I used to be a model myself and decided to strike out and set up my own agency, where I maintain a stable of modeling talent who do regular work — photo shoots, catalog, whatever.”
“The work isn’t as well-paid as some more high-profile gigs, but it’s regular, plus we have a great atmosphere in the office.”
There was a pause. “Do you want to come in for a coffee?”
Daniel smiled. “No, thanks, I think I’ll get back to unpacking. I’ve got a bunch of exercise equipment to heave into place — and it’s heavy.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a home gym, plus some barbells, dumbbells, and stuff.”
“Yeah, I usually work out every day.”
“Actually, you look like you do.”
He blushed. “Thanks,” he said. “Anyway, look — I’ll be sorted by tonight, I figure. You’re welcome to come over to visit any time — you know, if you’re at a loose end, or whatever. Maybe after six. I will have finished dinner by then.”
I smiled. “OK, I’ll think about that.”
Daniel gazed at me. “It would be nice to show you around, and I would appreciate a new friend. I won’t be able to hang out in a dorm for university like most other students, so I might not be as close with them as normal. I’ll be like a mature student, except I’m only twenty!”
“Twenty,” I repeated. “Well, you’re certainly on the up in the world!”
Another pause, then Daniel spoke. “Well, nice meeting you. I’ll get back.”
I smiled my broadest smile. “OK, well, I hope to see you around soon.”
“Same here. ‘Bye!”
He walked off and I closed the door. Still smiling on the way back to the kitchen, I felt insanely excited. Well, my, my — wasn’t HE nice? Wow, this was different!
I laughed at myself. Man, I’m in a bad way — worse than I thought. If I can get this excited about a mere next-door neighbor, I REALLY needed to get a life. Wow, he’s only twenty, strong, virile, great body — for goodness’ sake, stop it. I was acting like some love-struck teenage girl. Nevertheless, he had already brightened up my day. I felt a spring in my step and a lightness in my heart as I prepared lunch. I was astonished at how this felt. Lunch done, I reflected on this emotion. I had neglected bedava bahis myself for far too long.
How long? I remembered Jake, my last boyfriend. We had split up five years ago. I had been twenty-seven then. He had wanted to get serious and I had wanted to focus on the agency, and, eventually, we had to part ways. He hadn’t wanted me to have much of a career after modeling, and for me, that had been a red flag. It still was. Giving him up had definitely been the right decision. Yet since then, no romance for me. My sex life consisted of two fingers and my fervent imagination. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have a new friend, unrelated to work.
I made myself a lunch, then watched TV in the afternoon. I did some paperwork for the office, ready for Monday morning. Dinner came and went — early. Then I headed for my bedroom.
I had pretended to be busy all afternoon, but my mind had been whirring, and now I had a plan. I was going to take Daniel up on his offer. I was going to knock on his door and GO FOR IT. I was so sick of this boredom, and I felt an intense desire for adventure and excitement. I hope Daniel was going to be that adventure. I would have to check him out first, though — I didn’t want any nasty surprises, any weird junk, strange atmospheres or unexpected left-field curve-balls.
It had been a while since I worked out. My body still looked good, but I could use going to the gym. I decided to see if I could work out with him. I decided to dress accordingly.
In short order, I was dressed in hip-hugging blue cycling shorts, white ankle-height sports socks and planned to wear my clean, pastel blue sneakers and a white, Nike baseball cap. Now, how about a top? Bra top or sports bra with T-shirt? I turned to look in the mirror, gazing at my full breasts, their wide, rose-colored areolae and the medium-sized, upturned nubs that could be sensitive when they needed to be.
I squashed them with my hands for a moment. Well, huh. What was it I really wanted? A workout? I didn’t even know whether that was possible yet. Maybe he would be uncomfortable having someone watching him or maybe he had friends — other guys, perhaps — that he planned to invite over. Maybe he wanted a “man cave” vibe, pumping iron with “the guys”. I couldn’t just assume.
I frowned. Bummer, that would suck. I WANTED EXCITEMENT! I thought for a moment that I was putting way too much emphasis on this one guy. What happened to “find a new circle of friends”? Hmmm. OK, so maybe we wouldn’t be having a workout today. Still a sporty look would be good. He might want to show me his equipment. I smiled. Oh, yeah? Then maybe I should show him mine.
I grabbed a white T-shirt from my closet. Stuff it — throw caution to the wind. I retrieved a pair of scissors from the nightstand and a pen from nearby. After donning the T-shirt, I measured about two inches below my bust-line. I drew a line as straight as I could, using the mirror. Removing it, I cut straight the way across. The round, wide stretch of material fell to the floor. Hmph.
Once again, I donned the now half-sized top. It draped over my breasts, my upturned nipples subtle but noticeable under the fabric, then a vast expanse of firm abdomen to the waistband of the shorts, which were suitably stretched over my rounded glutes; and no bra. Great. I was ready.
Five minutes later, I was knocking on Daniel’s door. He showed me in, and for the next half-hour, he showed me around the ground floor of his house. In the living room, I saw a plush sofa and two armchairs, flat-screen TV and some fetching vases with dried plants; while at the back, a large room was divided into a kitchen-diner. The kitchen side on the right was well-equipped with all mod. cons., but the dining room table on the left side had been folded and leaned against the wall.
Filling the floor was a exercise bench, two barbells, five sets of dumbbells, a home gym and a selection of heavy weight plates. A large window brought lots of light into the kitchen, and some beautiful glass sliding doors on the dining room side led outside to a patio and back garden, complete with wrought-iron table and chairs painted white, shaded by a large parasol. I was impressed. Back in the kitchen diner, I remarked, “Well, your firm has done a great job here. I can’t believe they’ve done all this for you!”
“No, it’s not for me,” Daniel smiled. “It’s an investment — other people will rent it after me, so I’m not allowed to drop food and drinks all over the furniture — or they’ll dock my salary!”
“Oh, right. I get it.” I looked around, then back at Daniel. There was a long pause. The fact was, ever since he had answered the door, I had noticed that he had seemed a little breathless.
Perhaps it had been my knowing looks; maybe it was the modelesque way I had leaned seductively against his living room wall; perhaps it was the sway in my hips and toned abdomen; perhaps the touch of my hand on his arm at high points in the conversation; the way I had ‘accidentally’ deneme bonus brushed passed him passing through doorways; or maybe, just maybe, it was the way my full, bra-less breasts, the nipples slowly hardening, forming expectant, needy points under the thin, white material of my cutaway T-shirt, filled my top, the under-boob forming a wide distance between the tantalizing bottom of the material and my firm, smooth stomach. Whichever it was, it was having exactly the effect I wanted.
Daniel breathed in deeply. “Well, that’s about it for the ground floor,” he began.
I looked down at my outfit, as if only just noticing that I was wearing it. “Ha, actually -” I said, “I wore this stuff because I remembered that you said you worked out.”
Daniel looked relieved to have something to talk about. “Er, yeah — I work out every day.”
“Well, I was thinking,” I continued, leaning my torso over the breakfast bar towards him. “I remember you said you would quite like a friend, since you won’t be living in a dorm like a lot of other university students.”
“Yeah,” he said, slightly fazed.
“So I’ve been at a loose end for a while now, what with work and all — I’m busy Monday to Friday, but weekends have been boring, and evenings are just dinner and paperwork. I would like to get back into shape and figured that, even though I could go to a gym, you know -“
“Do you wanna workout?”
“Well, I mean -” He gestured to the gym equipment behind me.
“That’s if it’s not too much trouble — I don’t want -“
“No, not at all. You’re welcome to join me. It would be more fun with two of us, plus I could use a spotter — and I can be yours.”
“Right; but, like, are you sure? If you’ve got some guys you would rather workout with, you know -“
“No, not right now — I don’t live near any of the guys at college — I have to take the bus in, while their dorms are close to a gym downtown.” He grinned. “I would much rather workout with you.”
“I mean, it would definitely be easier.”
I still smiled.
“I can make time, if you want. When are you free?”
“I can do early evenings,” I replied, casually. “Around about this sort of time — maybe six until seven, you know?”
Daniel looked pleased. “That would be great. I usually work out early in the morning, but once I start studying, that will be difficult to maintain. I would rather do evenings early with you, then grab dinner and make a start on my homework.”
“Perfect!” I cried. I moved over to the bench to sit down on it. “That would be fun!”
“Yeah!” agreed Daniel, excitedly. He looked at me briefly, then suddenly said, “Hey, when was the last time you worked out?”
“About three years ago.”
“Did you use weights?”
“Yeah, sure — I needed to, so I could get this body!”
“Great. Would you like to have a quick try now?”
I looked at him.
“It’s just that it would be useful to know what your current maxes are. Then we can write them down. What gets measured gets improved, you know?”
I was impressed. “Yeah, sure.”
“Hold up a sec.” Daniel suddenly ran out of the room. I was surprised, but he soon returned with a notepad and pen. “All right,” he said. “Are you sure you’ve got time for this now?”
I smiled. “Sure, no problem.”
“OK, lets get started!”
So then he got me to use the equipment. We spent the next hour during a series of exercises — push-ups, pull-ups, rows, lunges, curls, dead-lifts and presses. Daniel was wearing a tight, black tank top, some elasticated tie-up blue striped tracksuit bottoms and the same sneakers he had worn earlier in the day. His strong, muscled arms worked hard. I was fascinated by them, watching the way they tensed as he grabbed the weight, then slowly contracted as he performed the motion.
He taught me how I should attempt eight repetitions — if all of them were easy, the weight was too light; if I could only do two or three, it was too heavy; the ideal was a weight where I can do six, but then the last two become challenging. That was the correct weight for me. He wrote down these weights on the notepad. As the session went on, a shiny film of sweat bathed his face and arms and his tank top was damp as his broad chest was worked. The top clung to his abdomen. I had been right before — he had a pronounced six-pack. I smiled. He was gorgeous.
He wasn’t the only one. Despite the fact that this was just a test session to find out my working weight ranges, I realized quickly that I had become somewhat unfit. I breathed hard and was drenched in sweat. Not that Daniel minded — I saw his eyes drink in the not-so-impromptu wet T-shirt competition that I had planned all along, as my full, 34D breasts were clearly outlined by my cutaway top, my areolae easily visible, the erect nipples pressing through the fabric, hardened by watching his body at work.
He had stood behind me most of the time, giving him ample time to admire my torso, butt and long legs. I could feel him getting turned on, his breathing becoming audible, as I worked out my body in front of him. I sensed his struggle to maintain normality, his voice slightly wavering as he spoke to me, and all these signs increased as things went on. I loved him for it — a gentleman.
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