Next Door Neighbor

started to see how considerate and polite you are, but I still thought you were a little wimpy. I mean, after the way I acted around you, and showing myself off to you – yes, I did it on purpose! – you still didn't try to grope me or hit on me or anything else; I even wondered if you were gay, until I saw the way you looked at me in this outfit! But after the way you handled that creep outside, and hearing about what you've done, I don't think that you're the slightest bit wimpy! I just don't understand how a man can be both as calm and patient as you are, and have the guts to stand up to a punk like that'. I laughingly told her that I was glad to hear that *somebody* had a good opinion of me, and she jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow, saying 'I'm serious, dammit!'. I got serious too, then, and asked her why she thought that a man couldn't be both gentle and masculine at the same time. She thought about it for a bit, and finally said 'I suppose that there really isn't any reason why he couldn't – it's just that I've never really seen it before, and don't quite understand it'. I told her that I thought that there really wasn't any contradiction to it at all – only perhaps that it might be a little unusual, which she answered with an 'and how!'. I continued by saying that after my experiences, I really didn't figure that there was anything I needed to fear physically, and the conquering of that fear had given me a certain sense of tranquility that made it easier to deal with other concerns. I told her that I wasn't immune to pain or disease, that I still suffered the same kinds of maladies that affected everyone else, that I still felt love and anger and all the rest – it was just that my experience had taught me how to deal with those things in a way that worked for*me*.

She responded to that by asking me if I still felt desire, too; I answered that no matter what else she might think of me, I was still human, and still a man, and most certainly did feel desire. With that, she pulled my hand down a little farther, pulled her T-shirt out away from her body, and tucked my hand down the front of it, placing it securely on her left breast, saying 'like now?'. I could feel her nipple hardening under my hand, and told her 'like even before now, when I saw you for the first time in your blouse and shorts, and earlier tonight, when I saw the dress you'd bought and how you'd made yourself up', and started softly squeezing her breast, and rolling her nipple around in my palm. She looked up at me and asked 'Did you notice Robyn, too?', and I told her that I'd noticed BOTH of them, which she followed by asking 'Did you know that she'd got a crush on you?'. I simply told her 'Well, I have noticed that she seems to have a pretty high opinion of me…', which earned me a snort from Lucy.

She then told me 'She's got more than just a high opinion of you. I think if you gave her half a chance, she'd hop into your bed and do her damnedest to screw you silly!'; I was a little worried about the direction the conversation was going, and asked her 'Are you suggesting that I take her up on it? Or telling me that if I did, you'd have my nuts to hang on your car mirror?', which got me a brief laugh before she answered 'I'm*not* suggesting it – though I think she could do a whole helluva lot worse for her first time,' – (Phew! I thought to myself) – ' and if she DID pick you for her first, I don't know if I'd want to know about it, or not.' – (yay!) – ' I do know that if I found out you'd been with her, I wouldn't want to do anything to either one of you I love her too much, and I've gotten to the point where I wouldn't want anything to happen to you, either'.

I asked her 'You just said that you didn't know if you'd want to hear about it if Robyn and I did start making love. Why not?', and after a couple of hesitations, she whispered 'Because I think I'd be jealous of her'. I'd expected some other answer, and when I looked down at her, saw that she was looking up at me with fear in her eyes – as though she expected me to jump up and run away from her, or something. I smiled at her, to reassure her, and told her that I didn't think that she would have anything to be jealous about, either from me, OR Robyn – not that she had anything to worry about (technically true – Robyn and I weren't taking any chances of her getting pregnant, and I figured that after what Lucy had just said, my character wasn't a concern to her, either). She gave me a questioning look, and I elaborated by telling her that what I felt toward Robyn was something completely different that what I could feel toward her.

She got a little bit of a surprised look on her face, and I told her 'Yes, I'm saying that I most certainly could feel more toward you than what your average Next Door Neighbor might. You're intelligent, attractive, you've got enough sense to listen when somebody tells you something, you've got enough intuition or whatever that you don't need everything explained to you, you don't whine or snivel about everything that happens in your life, you've got more guts or nerve or whatever than nearly all the women I've ever met, sexy as hell, and you cuddle up next to me real well, to boot!'.

That last part kind of caught her by surprise, and made her smile up at me.

I continued by telling her 'What I feel toward Robyn is probably something between what a father and uncle would, with a little lechery tossed in.

Yes, I admit that I've thought a few times about what it would be like to have Robyn in bed with me – and I expect that any man with hair on his balls that isn't either dead or gay has had the same thoughts. That does NOT mean that I would do anything to coerce her, or entice her, or follow up on those thoughts, though. If Robyn threw herself at me, I'd be flattered, and I'd probably catch her and give her several chances to change her mind before anything permanent happened.' – again, all technically true; just the time tenses were a bit backward – 'Hell, if she kept at it, I might even give some pretty serious thought to taking her up on it. But even then, what I'd feel toward Robyn, sexy as hell though she may be, would be completely different from what I'd feel toward a full-grown adult woman'.

She asked me what I meant, and it was my turn to give her a little bit of a reproachful look, saying 'I didn't think I'd have to explain that part to you. When you were married, you loved your husband, at least at first, didn't you?' – she nodded – 'And when Robyn came along, you loved her, too?' – another nod – 'Didn't you love them both, but in different ways?'.

She answered me by saying 'I knew what that meant to me, I just wanted to know if it meant the same thing to you; and from what you just said, I know that it does. I also noticed the way you described me, and that the 'attractive' part was the*second* thing you mentioned, and that everything else came before the 'sexy' part. Is that really the way you think?'. I told her that I appreciated a pretty, sexy girl as much as anyone else, but that I also understood that physical beauty faded with time – though not memory – and that sexiness was something that a person couldn't particularly control. I said that all the other traits were things that a person could exercise, and choose to control to some degree; and that they were the ones that seemed to be the basis for most of the long-lasting marriages I'd ever seen and heard about.

With that, she pulled my hand out of her T-shirt, and asked me if my offer of a blanket was still good. I said that it was, and she asked me to get it, please, sliding a little away from me so that I could get up.

While I was up to get the blanket, I also took advantage of the opportunity to recycle some of the wine and such that I'd had over the evening; and when I returned, Lucy was sitting a little farther away on the couch than she'd been when I'd left her. I opened it up a bit, she gestured that she wanted me to sit down first, when I had, she told me to scoot over next to her, so I did. When I was comfortable, she stood up on the couch, took a step over me, and turned herself so that she was facing me before sitting down on my lap with her legs on either side of me. Once she got herself situated, she surprised me by reaching down and pulling her T-shirt up over her head, revealing her firm breasts with their dark pink areolas and nipples, which were slightly erect. When gave her hair a little shake, it nearly gave me eyestrain watching the way her firm breasts moved around on her chest; the whole thing was repeated when she tossed the T-shirt off to the side. When she turned back to me, she said 'I've been thinking about you ever since you came over to pick us up for dinner. I was a little afraid of you after the way you chased off that kid, but after sitting her next to you, and hearing the way you think about things, I know that I want to get to know you better – a LOT better. I suppose that I could have played the little games that other women like to play when they're interested in a man, but I don't like them; and from what you've said, I don't think you like them, either. You seem like a pretty straight-ahead kind of guy, even if you are polite and thoughtful about it.

From what you've said, I don't think that you're going to try and hustle me into bed as fast as you can; in fact, I think that if or when we wind up sleeping together will depend on me, not you. It's been too damn long since I was with a man last – since my divorce, in fact and I'm both scared spitless at the idea that you might not like me, and excited as hell at the idea that you will. I think you want to get to know me better, too, but don't want to push me or lead me on about it. I know that I like you a lot, and think that maybe I'm falling in love with you, and it scares me not knowing how you feel, really. It felt*good* sitting next to you like that, with no TV going, and no need to say anything, and I want to feel that way again, and more; and the way you held my tit in your hand without trying to grope me all over, and just being content with a little intimacy like that without trying to crawl all over me made me happier than I've felt in a long time. I've never done anything like this before, and I'm scared, and I wish I could just stop blabbering like this, and*HOLD* me, dammit!'. With that, she started to cry, and I pulled her up against me, with her head on my shoulder, pulling the blanket over the two of us.