Next Door Neighbor

'So? When we watched*that video* that night, you admitted that girlgirl sex was kind of a turn-on for you, so that reason won't wash.

They're young? So what? Neither one of them seemed particularly nervous about it, other than worrying that you might see them and say something; they're friends, they like each other, and neither one seemed to be doing anything to force the other. Which makes it consensual – as in, BOTH of them were willing participants. Again, by your own admission, they're fairly mature; and you*know* that they've already been with each other, so that's no excuse, either.

One of them is your daughter? Again, so what? One of them*wasn't* – and as the old saying goes, 'It takes two to Tango'. Just a couple days ago, you told me that you wished you looked like Sandra at her age; clearly, you think she's attractive. I'll bet that you'd admit that Robyn isn't anything close to ugly, either – and the next step past that is to admit that she's pretty, too. So the only thing that you could hate about admitting that watching them turned you on was the underlying idea that you found them – BOTH of them – sexually attractive, in a way; and particularly attractive with _each other_.'

That earned me a nervous look, and a slight blush, which prompted me to ask 'Okay, it's true, then. So what happened to YOU that makes this such an issue with you?'

She started, and looked up at me asking 'How the hell could you know something happened to me?', nervously.

I smiled, and said 'Remember, I'm in business for myself: I*have* to be able to read and understand people, at least a little, if I have any hope or plan of getting their business. I'm a computer programmer – which implies a certain fluency in basic logic: what fits, what doesn't, and why. Something you said here, something there, how you respond to certain situations; it's all parts of a puzzle – all I did was put the pieces together the way they seemed to fit, and read the answer.'

Slightly amazed, she asked 'And what other answer did solving the puzzle tell you?'

'That whatever happened to you probably happened when you were about that age. That whatever it was, it didn't particularly damage you in any way, and that whatever it was, you don't feel like you ever really finished it.'

She got a look of absolute amazement on her face, so I continued by telling her 'I 'know' the approximate age because of the way you're reacting to THEIR ages. It didn't hurt you any because you didn't go off the deep end the other day when I told you what they'd been up to; nor did you go off on me when they were here that afternoon. I don't think you finished what you were involved in because you seem willing to let them continue – something you didn't get to do. So, do you want to tell me about it?'

She looked down, and said 'You're right. About all of it. I was actually only 14 – halfway between their ages! My best friend and I were both boy-crazy, but neither one of us had the slightest idea of what was going on, or what to do about it. After a LOT of late-night talk during sleepovers, we finally decided that the best idea was to 'practice' – kissing, mostly, since that was the first thing that interested us. It started off innocent enough, but after a couple of weeks, we realized that in most of the 'grown up' movies we saw, the boy would put his hand on the girl, on her breast, and that they would open their mouths. So that was what we finally did – open our mouths. It was only a little at first, and we didn't touch tongues or anything – at least, not until we added the touching each other part.

We did it like they did in the movies: first we'd start kissing, then we'd each put a hand on the other's breast. I liked it, it felt good; and I'm*positive* that my friend, Patricia, liked it, too. Both of us were nervous as hell about it, but we damned well weren't going to stop. We were so*gentle* with each other, and it felt so good, that it didn't take long before we DID start touching tongues. It was accidental, I think, the first time; but when it happened, it felt like a jolt of electricity ran through me – right to my nipples and between my legs. I think Patty felt the same thing, since we pulled back a little bit when it happened, but SHE was the one that leaned back in toward me to kiss me again. Make no mistake though – she sure as hell didn't have to force me; I was more than willing to have it happen again!'

She went on, saying 'I think I was the first one to do more than just hold my hand on her breast; my own nipples were literally aching, and couldn't stop myself from using my thumb to see if Patty's were as hard as mine felt. They were, and she didn't hesitate to rub my nipple, back. From there, it wasn't long before we were French kissing like nobody's business, and playing with each other's tits to no end. As we did it more and more, I kept getting more and more excited, and could feel that between my legs, I was getting wetter and wetter, and I just couldn't get enough pressure where my 'button' was. Again, I figured Patty might be having the same problem, and as I was sliding my hand down her front so that I could touch her between her legs, we were interrupted.'

'What happened?'

'It was my mom, knocking on the door to see if we wanted a snack or anything. Scared the hell out of both of us, and embarrassed us both to no end. It took me a minute to get over it, and tell Mom that yeah, we would like something to eat and drink. Both of us kind of shied away from each other, and put on our housecoats to go down to the kitchen where Mom had some pie and milk for us. The whole time we were eating, we kept looking at each other, then looking away, like we were afraid of each other. By the time we got back to my room, it was like we were two strangers; when we went to bed, both of us moved to the edge of the bed, so that we weren't touching – usually, we'd lay right NEXT to each other, and even hold hands. The next morning, instead of getting dressed together, like we normally did, Patty took her clothes into the bathroom, and got dressed there. After that, we kind of avoided each other for the next few days. Those few days turned into weeks, then months', she finished, crying slightly at the memory.

I tilted her head up to look at me, and told her 'I don't see that you did anything wrong. What you and Patty had was a lot like what Robyn and Sandra have. The only difference is that they've been able to follow through on what they started, and they don't seem ashamed or embarrassed by it. What happened to you was bad luck, pure and simple. From the sound of it, I'd guess that you and Patty would have found out that you liked girls just fine – but that it wouldn't have stopped either one of you from enjoying boys, too; at least, if what you've done with me is any indication.'

She smiled at that, and I went on 'I don't think there's anything wrong with you for getting turned on by watching Sandra and Robyn play. Both of them are more than passably attractive, both because of their youth, and their natural good looks. If you wanted to drag one or the other of them into bed with you to finish what you started with Patty, I wouldn't like it much – but ONLY if you forced them in some way. If one or the other WANTED to, then I'd say 'go for it, and have fun'. So there's no reason for you to 'hate to admit' that you find the sight, or idea, of them together turning you on.'

She looked up at me again, and said 'You just said 'one or the other of them' – you mean even if I wanted to have sex with my own daughter, you wouldn't be disgusted?', wonderingly.

'Nope – as long as she was old enough to make the choice for herself, of her own free will. If the two parties are both interested, and there's no chance of pregnancy or disease, then I'm fine with it – as far as I'm concerned, it's just two people making each other happy, and feel good, and act of LOVE, to some degree. Beyond that, it's none of my business; I've got my hands full being in charge of ME', that last part earning me a smile.

She got another thoughtful look on her face for a few seconds, then looked up at me, saying 'Well, that's enough of that. I didn't come over here to have you solve all my problems, just*one*.'

'And what would that be?'

As she told me 'I have this itch that I was hoping you could scratch', she got up off the couch, and started to undress, telling me 'You see, it's in a spot that I can't quite reach by myself; but I know that you have*just* the right 'tool' to take care of it.', making a pun of her desire and intentions as she let her panties drop to the floor.

I stood up, too, and in my best Southern Drawl, told her 'Well, Ma'am, I'd be right happy to scratch your itch, if'n that's what you want.' – 'Oh, it is!', she teased. – 'But I'm a-feared it might git kinda messy, if'n you know what I mean.'

'Oh, that's fine – All I care about is this*darn* itch', she replied as she used her hand to rub the outside of her vagina, and her clitoris, as the other teased one of her nipples to erection.

By this time, I'd gotten naked, too, and told her 'Well, Ma'am, I'd be plum happy to help you out, but it looks like my itch scratchin' tool is kinda out of commission at the moment.'