A good neighbor

When she was done, Emma asked 'It's really okay with you if we show you our boobs again?'

I answered them by saying 'I think you know that I have never lied to you' — both nodded, because I hadn't — 'so why would I say something like that if I didn't mean it? It's certainly okay with me if you want to show me your boobs, if that's what you want to do. I think both of you are very pretty, and your breasts are nice to look at. Even if you wanted to just go around topless over here, it would be okay with me. But it's up to you whether you think you're mature enough to do that or not, of course.' With the tall privacy fence around the back yard, nobody was going to be able to see the relatively secluded corner where the pool was.

As I figured, the suggestion that only mature people would be agreeable to going topless hit them in a sensitive spot; one of the things I'd learned over the years was that pubescent girls almost always want to believe they're more mature and adult than they really are.

But I changed the subject to something else, and we chatted for another few minutes; when their was a lull in the conversation, Emma looked at me, then her sister, before reaching back and unfastening the top of her bikini — then removed it and set it aside. A few moments later, Gail did the same thing, leaving me sitting there with clear views of two pairs of firm young mammaries. I didn't make any big deal out of what they'd done, however. I just smiled at both of them, then went back to talking to them as though half-naked teenyboppers was something I saw every day. After a bit, both of them stopped looking quite as nervous; by the time I had to go back to work, they were as calm and relaxed as they could be. Inside my house, I looked out at them and watched as they decided to go for another dip in the pool — without bothering to put their tops back on.

I checked on them a few more times while they were at my place, and they didn't put the tops of their suits back on until right before they went home.

The next time Gail and Emma came over, they were on their own in the back yard; I was busy with a tricky bit of code I was working on. When they first showed up, I noticed that both kept their bikini tops on; but when I looked at them a little later, both had opted to shed them, to my pleasure.

When I went out to check on them, both looked a trifle nervous at first, but when I didn't stare or say anything, they settled down again quickly enough.

After that, any time they came over, one of the first things they'd do would be rid themselves of the encumbrance of the top half of their suits. Emma finally told me that they'd decided that they liked the feeling of swimming and laying in the sun topless, and that my casual acceptance of their semi-nudity made them feel a lot better about it. Even so, both kept the cloth handy on the off chance that their mother came over — neither thought that she'd understand. The gate they and Andrea used had a noisy spring on it, so the sound of the gate opening would give them time to grab their tops and jump in the pool where they'd be out of sight while they got them back on; something that proved necessary a couple of times. Both times that happened, they had an attack of nerves afterwards. The first time, they kept their tops on the rest of the time they were swimming; after the second, Emma, then Gail, opted to go topless again after a few minutes.

Once they'd gotten comfortable about being topless around me, I finally let them talk me into joining them for a swim again. It wasn't difficult to get them into a dunking contest again, and even though I was careful not to actually put my hands on their tits, I still got enough of a feel of them on my arms and chest and back to appreciate how firm they were. Neither girl seemed to have any problems or concerns about the contact while we were playing, or afterwards.

Andrea got the promised promotion, and the pay raise that went with it.

She also discovered that she'd also acquired some additional duties — duties that made it necessary for her to work later than she liked, and more often than she wanted to. But the additional income was too good to pass up, so she accepted the necessity of the added hours.

Those additional later hours meant that she wasn't home as much, too. Rather than leave the girls on their own all the time, she asked if it would be okay for them to come over to my place sometimes, while they did their homework, or studied. With Emma and Gail both understanding that when I was working, I couldn't give them much of my attention, I didn't have any problem with that. Still, Andrea and I both made sure that the girls knew that it wasn't to be an every day kind of thing, and that the business of not bothering me while I was working still applied.

After a few weeks, it became clear that the two of them were coming over maybe a bit over half the times Andrea had to work late. I wasn't obliged to be working all that time, so there were chances for me to sit around with them — helping with their homework if they needed it, just generally keeping them company, or whatever.

I used those occasions to begin getting them comfortable talking to me about things; more than just the day-to-day kinds of stuff that usually occupied our conversations. Rather, I was interested in moving things to the point that either of them would be willing to talk to me about more and more personal and intimate topics. I started out by just making small comments about minor things in passing; then I began to include more and more subjects, again keeping my remarks short and casual. Once they were comfortable with that, I gradually drew them into the subjects; by the time I was done, neither of them was the slightest bit reluctant to talk to me about virtually anything — even to letting me know when one of them wasn't going to swim because she was having her period.

While that was going on, I was also getting them used to physical contact with me. Before, I'd always been pretty meticulous about touching either of them — ironically, for the very reasons that I was then trying to get it to happen. I'd always accepted a kiss on the cheek from one of them, or was willing to hold hands, but I carefully and patiently went about increasing the frequency and intimacy of my touches. From simply sitting a trifle closer to them when I helped with their homework, I eventually got them to casually accept a playful pat on the butt from me

— and then even more carefully proceeded to even more personal contact with them.

I really knew my efforts were paying off one afternoon when it was just me and Emma one afternoon. Gail had stayed late for some school event, so rather than sit home by herself, Emma had come over to my place to talk. It seemed that she'd been in the girls locker room after her Gym class, and had heard some of the older girls talking — about being with their boyfriends.

While she knew, at least in general terms, what they'd been saying, there was still some of it that she didn't understand. Rather than bother her mom after she got home from work, Emma had decided that I might be able to help with her questions. We were sitting at opposite ends of the couch when she began to tell me what prompted her to come over.

'When I heard the older girls, they were talking about whether or not their boyfriends made them cum. I had to hear them talk about it for a little bit before I understood that they were talking about having orgasms. I told you that Mom already talked to me and Gail about that stuff, so I kinda knew what they were talking about, but not really, you know? I mean, I've touched myself between my legs and everything, and it feels good — sometimes real good — but I don't think I've ever had one of those. Anyway, then they started talking about what their boyfriends did to them, and what they did to themselves. I understood the stuff they were saying about themselves okay, but I didn't know what they meant when they were talking about other stuff.'

I nodded, and she went on 'Anyway, after they were done, they finished getting dressed and went to their other classes. I don't think any of them really noticed I was there, because none of them said anything to me; usually, they tease me about having small tits or not having enough hair, you know, between my legs; and that made me start wondering if having bigger boobs or more hair had something to do with what they were talking about. I kept thinking about all of it the whole time I was at school — one of my teachers even kinda yelled at me for not paying attention. I know I should maybe wait for Mom to get home from work, but she always has to work late on Thursdays, and she's usually pretty tired when she gets home. I don't want to bother her if I don't have to, so I was hoping that maybe you could explain what those girls at school were talking about to me, so I understand. We don't usually talk about stuff like this, but I figure if I can talk to you about touching myself and all that, then it should be okay to talk about this stuff, too. So would you?'

'Well, I can, if you want. But from what you said, there was some of it that you kinda understood, but not really, because even though you've talked with your Mom and everything, you've never really done some of it. I don't know how much us just talking about it is going to help with stuff like that. Then there's the things that you said you aren't sure if they make any difference, or not. I don't think they would, but I'm not you, so I can't be sure. I'm perfectly willing to sit and talk with you like this about all of it, for as long as you want. I just don't know how much good it will do, just talking. I'm sure you would understand better if you had actually done some of the things