The trouble started with apples. I like the symmetry.
After the virus lockdown, it made sense to buy groceries in large lots or in bulk, and that works well, for things that don’t spoil easily.
I live with my wife, who is amazing. Across the street is a couple with two kids, and they are far more devoutly evangelical Christian than anyone else I see regularly.
And I do see them regularly. We hang out, at a distance, and barbecue at a distance, and have movie nights at a distance. Not very often. Just once in a while.
I have been at home since the beginning of spring. My dear wife is sometimes out — more often than I am.
After the neighbor, Rachel, shopped one day, she must have asked my wife if we wanted to split of the bushel of apples she bought, and my wife must have agreed. While I was deep in my dark house, in a comfortable old tee and thin, linen pajama pants, I heard a knock at the front door.
I am tall and kind of thin, and while I don’t have a frighting thundercock, the way my pajama pants hang can emphasize it in a noticeable way. On this particular day, I had recently browsed some gonewild or such, and was a little more engorged than normal.
I thought nothing of it when came a very loud series of knocks at my front door. I figured it was FedUps Man dropping a box before dashing away. I’d kick the box inside to rescue it from the threat of rain.
But instead, it was Rachel. She’s in her mid 30s, and is medium height, with wavy light-brown hair, and a slight pear shape with nice hips and breasts that are plump, though always hidden behind loose blouses. She’s cute.
She held a box half-full of apples, and smiled at me through the glass as I approached. As I flipped each light switch on the wall, seeking the one that turned on the overhead entryway light, I saw her face in a mirror’s reflection, and her gaze was down, at my crotch.
I am not quick-witted or sly, but what happened next was fortuitous.
I turned back to the door, and opened it to greet her. There was low rumbling thunder on the horizon and the smell of rain behind her. Her eyes were back at my eyes, with laser focus.
“I brought your apples!”
“Oh good,” I said, and I stepped forward, violating the distance rules briefly, and scooped my arms around the box. I avoided her arms, which where one beneath and one on the side with that hand in front. She must have been tapping the door bottom with her foot, to knock.
I stepped up, and reached one around, and one up under the box.
But on the other side of the crate was her body. My right hand gripped the underside of the box, which meant sliding it between the box and one of her breasts. I didn’t mean to, but in doing so, I felt her up, and grabbing control of the box must have tweaked her nipple a little bit, because her mouth dropped open and her lower lip trembled. She made not a noise, but the muscles of her neck and arms and brow practically cooed.
Since I’m not sly or cool, I said the thing I was preparing to say anyway, “Oh I love it. Yum.” Which, I am not altogether unhappy with. She released the box, snapping back to the present, backed up, a little worried crease on her forehead, and I smiled innocently. The whole passing of the crate lasted only a second. Normal. “Thank you. Bye!”
“Bye,” she cheerfully said, and stepped down my porch, and back to her house. In the light of the sky, I thought I could see a flush on her cheeks and neck.
Nothing else happened for a week.
The next time, my wife told me that Rachel was coming over for two cups of flour. I wondered if Rachel had waited for my wife’s car to leave the driveway before *needing* flour. Maybe.
So, I quickly changed into some flattering underwear and another threadbare pair of pajama bottoms. In the process, I *may* have stroked my cock a few times, to plump it up for display.
I was ready when the doorbell rang. I walked to the door, barefooted again, and I was careful to wave once and then drag my attention somewhere else, so I wasn’t looking at her face, to give her opportunity to glance over me, if she so wanted.
I peeked along the mirror again, and her gaze was where I hoped. I made it to the door and opened it, saying, “Heyyy there, neighbor. I’m happy to see you. Come on in.”
She smiled meekly, and bit her lip as she stepped into my kitchen. I pointed to the cabinet next to the ‘fridge, and asked her to get a measuring bowl. She kneeled down, on her knees and opened the cabinet as I fetched the 40lb bag of flour from the larder. I brought it back, setting it on the counter. She was still on her knees, and I had to say, “There, on the left, inside the ceramic bowl.”
She found it, and held it up. I stepped toward her kneeling form, cock outline bulging in my trousers, at the same level as her eyes and mouth, and said, “That’s perfect.” Again. I’m not sly. I’m lucky for any double entendre.
I took it from her hands, washed it in the sink, (my hands too! pandemic!), dried it out, and scooped it full of flour, and gave it to her. She was standing up by then, silent and again at a safe distance.
She again snapped to normal neighbor behavior, where the interaction rulebook is clear, to thank me and walk out the door.
As she walked out the door, I watched her descend the steps. I knew her rulebook too, and I knew she’d thank me again as I was going to close the door. So, I did the first intentional sly thing so far, and I decided to let her catch me gazing at her ass.
When she turned, I managed not to flinch and meet her eyes right away. Instead, she saw me looking at her cute, round butt, and her automatic “Thank you” still came out.
And I said, “My pleasure.” And I meant it.
Since then, we’ve had a half dozen similar interactions. She acts just a little different when we’re alone, which is rare but not nearly as rare as it was before.
I don’t know what to do next, honestly. I enjoy stoking the flames of whatever she’s thinking and feeling. I still want to be safe, in all the ways that could mean.
So, it’s ongoing. We’ll see.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/i7c6vo/teasing_my_m_superreligious_neighbor_f
<grabs popcorn>
Let’s see what’s next, good luck ??
Next time answer the door in a towel, which drops (accidentally)
I hope there’s more to this story
I’m curious for the next episode ! I wish I could binch-watch (-read ?) this ;)
You could do the towel-trick, or when it’s hot outside wear nothing but loos boxers. Compliment her on her clothing or such.
You could wear a pair of boxers that have a hole/rip in them, or that have very wide leg holes. You could ask her for help with something. Maybe where you’re up a ladder to do something and she can hand you tools.
And please offer her a refreshing beverage, it’s the neighbourly thing to do.
Awesome story. I especially like the pandemic rule obeying. That was hot!
The teasing is also.