CHAPTER 1
The house next door had recently sold, and to be honest with you, I was sorry to see the old neighbor leave. A divorced mother of three, (all grown and out of the house) 48 years old; she had a tendency to leave the shades and curtains open.
Now I'm not a "peeping Tom," but anytime a woman walks around the house in various states of undress, it draws my attention.
MaryAnn was just my type too. She stood about 5'5," "dirty" blond hair. She told me she always skirted 250 but, even though I would never say it to her, she was probably closer to 265.
Not that it mattered to me. She was a delicious BBW and in the long run, that was all that mattered.
She had lived in the house for almost three years and in "over-the-back-fence" chatter I had found that she was waiting on a transfer and had only purchased the home as an investment.
Her plan was to live in it, rather than pay someone rent for the short term, until the transfer came through.
Our homes are in an old, established neighborhood and the side of my house is only eleven feet from the side of her house. Our living room and bedroom windows align perfectly.
She had only been in the house about a month when I noted that she never drew the curtains or pulled the shades.
I had worked late and had come home just after midnight. When I walked back to my bedroom I saw through my window that MaryAnn was still up. She sat upright on her bed, covers up to her waist, reading a book.
Considering that this was as natural a thing for a woman to be doing at that time of night, and the fact that she was fully clothed (as best I could tell), I was surprised to note the rapid swelling in my trousers.
I stripped down, went in and took a quick shower.
I left the bathroom light on and headed back to my room.
Though my room was still dark, the room had a dim light from the light in Mary Ann's bedroom, and a slightly brighter, backlight from my bathroom.
I walked to my dresser and set my alarm, then I jumped into bed and called it a night.
MaryAnn later told me that she couldn't see me real well in the dim light, but that my silhouette was unmistakable. In any event I started noting that Mary Ann became quite the exhibitionist after that night.
Though we both had put on some hot and heavy shows for each other over the years, we had never gotten together. I could never quite put my finger on just why that was.
Our work schedules didn't mesh. Our social schedules weren't compatible. Or we simply didn't want to ruin the relationship we'd developed.
Now here it was almost three years later. Mary Ann's transfer had finally come through, and she was moving out.
CHAPTER 2
It was moving day and the movers had already cleared the house. MaryAnn was finishing up what little cleaning she needed to do. I went over to say good-bye.
I walked up onto MaryAnn's front stoop and rang the doorbell. The door opened and MaryAnn beckoned me to come in.
It always surprises me to be in a house with nothing in it. It clearly defines, in my mind, the difference between a "house" and a "home".
A home has all the personality of its occupants. The furniture, bric-a-brac, wall decorations, and family pictures, all paint a very specific portrait of the people who live there.
An empty house, devoid of those symbols of personality, is a cold and faceless place.
That feeling really overwhelmed me when I looked around MaryAnn's living room.
"MaryAnn," I began. "I don't know what to say. It has been a true pleasure having you as a neighbor."
I wanted to say something about keeping in touch, but MaryAnn's transfer was taking her to Phoenix and the chances we would ever see each other again were, slim to nil.
