Melissa in Quarantine

This dreadful pandemic has been really hard on everyone the world over. Almost everyone knows someone who's had it or been affected by it. Although my friends and family who have tested positive experienced little to no symptoms, the entire world waited for what lasting effects the virus would present, or when it would again surge. Very scary times indeed.

I was lucky health wise. So far, at least, because it's still out there, attacking, affecting, spreading. I wasn't so lucky on the job front, though, since the music venue where I work was shut down with little prospect of reopening any time soon. However, the national live event company that owned it remained confident in the return of live concerts, along with and all the jobs that live events support, including mine.

In their optimism they had to cut all but the most critical employees, putting the rest of us on furlough. They picked up our monthly insurance premiums, but that was it. Thousands of people across the country had to get by on unemployment compensation, plus whatever COVID relief their states may have provided, plus whatever back up plan they had.

Being a man of simple needs, I had avoided too much frivolous spending and saved a good chunk of my income over the past decade. I bought a simple house in a quiet neighborhood that felt like you were in the country, but actually was not far from the city at all.

Not until the daily zoom meetings and work activities actually stopped, did it sink in that I was unemployed for the foreseeable future. Many of my colleagues had to move to a different industry that hadn't been so decimated by the virus. They couldn't afford to be off work for long and unemployment insurance couldn't cut it for them. Yet, I felt I could ride out the pandemic until we could all return to large events and I could return to working where I had devoted most of my career.

I looked around at my little piece of country outside Chicago as winter's grip seemed to ebb away before my eyes, and I began to get inspired as to the possibilities. I staked out a nice-sized patch and borrowed my neighbor Rich's roto-tiller. I tilled the soil deeply, turning up the barely thawed dark earth. It smelled rich with nutrients and sent steam tendrils evaporating into the crisp morning air. My neighbor Rich walked by as I dug furrows in the freshly cultivated garden and we fell into easy conversation.

"Glad to see somebody's finally gettin' some use outta that old roto-tiller!" he said.

"That old beast runs like a young stud, Rich." I chided. "Kinda like you, Rich."

He chuckled, "I can see that. Seems to keep running and gets the job done. 'Course I don't use it as much the past few years, but I usually fire it up about once a season."

"Gotta fire it up now and then, make sure all the parts are doin' their job," I agreed. I patted the top of the tiller's engine. "Seems like you've taken real good care of this old beast, Rich."

A serious expression came over his face and he began, "Y'know Sam, you've been a mighty fine neighbor to me, lots of good laughs and fires over the years, and even more so when Doris got sick and all. Those meals you'd bring us were the best."

"Well, Rich," I returned, "you were just as good to me when I had just lost Lisa. Just being neighborly, neighbor."

Rich's eyes watered up and he wiped them as he said, "Well I do appreciate everything Sam, and I'd like you to go ahead and keep that old tiller of mine if it's all the same to you."

"But Rich..." I tried to protest.

He quickly cut me off with a wave of his hand and said, "Let's just say I'm lending it to you and I probably won't ask for it back!"

"I can live with that," I smiled.

"Anyway," he continued, "I'm shedding some of my gear cuz I'm headed south, down sizin' y'know. There might be another thing or two I might want to leave with you once I start packin' for Florida."

I listened in slack-jawed wonder as he explained how he'd set up a reverse mortgage to pull equity from his house, and his son was moving in and paying him rent. Between his pension, reverse mortgage and rent, he'd be sittin' pretty in a beachside condo within a month.

Rich concluded, "And I'll never have to deal with another winter like what we just went through."

"Well, Rich, I'm really happy for you, my friend. We've been through some really good, and some really bad times, together." Then I brightened and exclaimed, "Hey! I like sunshine, warm beaches, and scantily clad beautiful women, and now I'll know somebody who lives in Florida. Might just have to pay a visit!"

"Maybe I'll introduce you to one of my new girlfriends down there once I get the lay of the land," he laughed.

"Gotta get the lay of the land first, for sure," I replied with a grin. "I'll expect the pick of the litter, Rich!" I called as he wandered off with a laugh and a wave. I returned to work, thinking of my old friend and wondering about my new neighbor, Rich's son, Jason. He was grown and out of the house when I moved into my place ten years ago, but I'd met him a few times at summer barbecues in Rich's yard since. Seemed like a nice enough guy.

Within a week, Rich packed up and moved out. Jason moved in shortly thereafter. The day after that, however, I was surprised to see a giant motor home pull up outside Rich's, now Jason's, house. From my vantage point down the street, I watched a young woman step off the bus and alight gracefully on the gravel drive. With the sun setting behind her she was silhouetted while the sun lit up her bright red pony tail that stuck straight up, her gauzy dress billowing in the breeze, and the dust she'd kicked up. She was bathed in an ethereal glow. Within this glowing aura, her lithe form, dark and graceful, was obscured.

With my eyes locked upon this vision, she suddenly turned and our eyes locked across the half block that separated us. She smiled a small smile and waved a quick wave, then bounded up the steps and knocked on Jason's door. When he answered, she stepped back to the base of the front porch. I was too far away to hear but I could see her hands gesturing as they spoke. Then she and Jason hopped into his car and began to drive out of the neighborhood. He slowed to a stop in front of me.

"Hey Sam," he began, "Remember me, Jason? Rich's son?"

"Of course, Jason," I cried. "Although it's been a while. How's your dad getting along in Florida?"

"Great, by all accounts. You know him, livin' the life." he replied. "Hey, I also want to introduce Melissa." He turned to the girl seated next to him and said, "Melissa, this is our neighbor, Sam."

She leaned past him and bobbed her head down with a smile and softly said, "Nice to meet you Sam."

Jason interrupted, "Well, we just wanted to say hey!" and rolled up his window. He waved and she kept her lands in her lap and bobbed again. As they drove off, I couldn't clear the vision of her head bobbing over my manhood and I felt a pleasant stirring. 'Sorry Jason,' I thought, 'but your girlfriend is really sexy and I want her.' In a short while they returned, she in a little white car following his sedan. They parked and he returned to his house while she scampered up into the camper and disappeared inside.

'What's their deal?' I wondered.

I couldn't see through the tinted windshield inside the bus. I wondered who she was, Jason's girlfriend, his wife? He hadn't said. He just gave me her name, Melissa. It was nearly dark and it occurred to me that she could be watching me from inside the camper as I stood there watching and wondering about her. With the remaining light, I busied myself with yard work that kept me close to the road, within sight of the mysterious motor home.

That night, my erotic fantasies of sex with this mysterious creature living down the street from me brought comfort and helped me drift into sleep. I dozed in an aroused state thinking of her, and awoke the same way. With everyone in quarantine and the whole would on lockdown, I ate, dressed and went outside, as I had every day this summer. The array of vegetables I planted had taken root were flourishing. I weeded where needed and propped up my abundant tomato plants with stakes and cages. Next, I turned my attention to the landscape. I've always loved working with stone and rocks, felt that I may have missed my calling as a landscape architect, so I set about beautifying my property with paving stone walkways and borders.

As the week passed, I began to learn my neighbors' daily schedules. Every morning, Jason would leave around 8. If I was outside, he would smile and wave as he drove by. A half hour later, Melissa would leave, nodding with that slight downward head bob that drove me crazy, like a submissive bow. As the dust from her tires settled, I would grow firm thinking of her head moving up and down on my cock. I had yet to see her up close but her lips looked inviting and her eyes flashed each time she drove by. At night, she would return an hour or two after Jason and scurry into her camper. 'Why?'

I made sure I was up and at 'em each morning as she drove out of the neighborhood. Her little parting head bob giving me the energy to attack my latest landscaping project anew. Luscious thoughts of lavishing her naked body with my kisses were my focus, while absentmindedly working through mundane tasks. Thoughts of her supple mouth lolling around and engulfing my hard member sustained me as sweat poured out of me, cleansing me. During the long nights, the desire to press my hard cock into her soft, wet, wanting pussy consumed me. In the darkness, I could picture her looking up at me alluringly and wanton, begging me. 'Oh yeah, Sam,' she would coo and arch her back, 'I need it baby - all the way in. Yeah, just like that. Slow and hard, slow and hard. Oh yeah, that feels so good.' And she would draw out 'so' and 'good' in a long, satisfied purr.

Her imagined voice lulled me into sleep as I idly stroked my cock, not really wanting release, just stimulation, while thoughts of every conceivable way I wanted to take her swirled through my brain. I tried to make my hand feel like her mouth would feel, but to no avail. I wanted the real thing. Release came of its own accord anyway, in the form of wet dream that night, following torrid dreams of hot sex with her. Awakening to a sticky mess on me and in my bed only made me think of her, licking me clean and getting me hard all over again. It was torture.

The routine of long summer days consisting of tending to the garden and beautifying my property settled in. I would see one or both of them occasionally, if I happened to be out working early or late in the day, which I certainly tried to be when I knew she would be coming or going.

One morning, rather than driving by and head bobbing as usual, she slowed to a stop and lowered her window.

"Mornin' Sam!" she beamed.

"Mornin' Melissa!" I smiled back.

"Wow, you sure are a hard worker!" she said. "I've been admiring all the progress you've been making!"

"Thanks for noticing. I've had a lot of time on my hands this summer and wanted to put it to good use."

"Nice! With the wildflowers and garden, paving stones and landscaping, your place looks like something from better Homes & Gardens. Have you done as much to the inside, too?" she asked.

"Well," I replied, "the people I bought it from left it in really nice shape. All I had to do was upgrade the AC and I redid the master bath. Other than that, I got it in move in condition."

I was nervous and suddenly feared I was talking about myself too much. I wanted to know her story. "Would you join me for a cup of coffee?" I asked.

She replied, "That sound's great but I'm running late today. I'll try to allow some time for a cup tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," I replied, slightly dejected.

"It's a date," she laughed and added, "and maybe you could give me the grand tour some time." She waved and drove off, smiling. I stood there watching her car disappear with renewed hope and an aching hard on down my pant leg.

She beamed with delight the next morning when I brought her a cup of freshly brewed coffee. She gratefully accepted.

"I forgot to ask. Take anything in it?"

"No thank you, black is perfect. Mmm, it smells good."

She held the cup to her face and inhaled the rising steam, then took a tentative sip. She turned to me and grinned, "Freshly brewed?"

"Yes."

"Hot and fresh," she said, then again, softer, "hot and fresh."

We sipped our coffee for a few moments in silence. She handed the cup back with her thanks when she lad to leave. She had left a slight smear of lipstick on the rim. Once she had gone, I drank where she drank, licked the rim, tasted her lips, and imagined kissing her again.

She began to leave for work a little earlier each morning, to give us more time for our coffee and banter. She would talk about the crazy world events or remark on some new improvement I'd made, and then we'd return to comfortable silence. I told her about my previous work, what I did, but always tried to steer the conversation back to her. I learned that she was a nurse, and that the motor home was part of a program to give front line health care workers like her a place to quarantine at home, to keep their families safe during the worst of the pandemic.

"I didn't want to put Jason at risk so I signed up and was lucky enough to get one, at least for a while!" she explained.

"Very thoughtful of you and wow, what a great program. But doesn't he miss you?"

"Miss me?" she laughed, "Why would he miss me? He's my cousin, silly! Rich is my uncle. Uncle Rich to me. Eeyoo!" and made a sour face.

"Oh, I see," I said, silently relieved. "I thought you two were a thing, but I didn't quite understand the motor home."

She laughed, "Eeyoo, my cousin! He's just been nice enough to let me park it here," and made that face again. Then her expression turned thoughtful and she turned to look at me. I think my expression had changed, too, and she peered into my eyes.

"Sam, did you know that we sort of met once, ten years ago?" She continued when I looked perplexed and added, "It was at one of my Uncle Rich's parties."

I thought back over the many yard parties I'd enjoyed at Rich's, but vividly remembered the very first one I attended, since it was all so new to me then.

"I was 19 at the time, there with my folks," she explained. "I noticed you and you know what? You have hardly changed."

That first party at Rich's ten years ago had been a whirlwind of activity as I was new to the neighborhood. But how could I forget the stunning young woman I found myself behind in line for the food that day. She was much too pure and delicate for a guy like me to presume to speak to. Besides, I remembered how hot it had been, especially inside the cramped food tent. I recalled that I was sweating profusely and also my fear that she could smell me in close quarters. Instead, I subtly admired her from a distance, appreciating her grace, how she carried herself in a womanly manner. Her fresh scent mingled with the delicious food that was laid out buffet style and her memory was implanted in his brain.

"We were in the food line together."

"You remember!" she cried.

"I let you have the last of the potato salad."

She tittered with excitement.

"You were wearing a white and yellow sundress. And it was very hot in that tent."

"You remember that, too? Oh Sam!" she cried. I nodded, also remembering when he had seen her again more recently, silhouetted against the setting sun.

I smiled broadly and said, "You may not think I've changed in ten years, but you certainly have!"

It felt like a reunion of sorts and a turning point, too. In normal times, she would have leapt from her car and hugged me, even though our long ago meeting was so brief. She was my old friend Rich's niece after all. But nowadays, everyone had to keep their distance. Like a cold shock of reality, she interrupted our shared reverie.

"Well, sorry, but I gotta go fight the good fight. Take care Sam!" and off she drove.

My thoughts that night battled between the younger and the older versions of Melissa. The thin strap of young Mellissa's sundress slid down. Smooth creamy skin exposed in that sweltering tent as she glanced over her bare shoulder at me and smiled shyly. I quickly banished those thoughts and thrashed in my bed. Much better and sexier to think about was the newer, full breasted version of Melissa. From her shiny red hair, intelligent face, and bright eyes, down her long neck, past strong shoulders, to her perfectly succulent breasts, I could feel my tongue exploring every crevice and curve, tasting her combined fear, sweat and arousal. She arched and stretched in anticipation as I kissed my way to her perfect mound, seeping with juices, filling my senses with her heat and womanly scent. 'I hope I taste good to you,' I heard he murmur between heavy breaths. Her breasts rose and fell as I lowered my face to her fragrant pussy and explored her every fold. I lolled my tongue in languid circles around her engorged clit, feeling it pulsate, and lapped at her flowing juices until she writhed in one long, wrenching orgasm. Her orgasm went on and on while I gently licked her delicate folds, eliciting little jerks, spasms and aftershocks. With this vision and her imagined scent in my head, I dream licked my way into another fitful sleep.

I awoke refreshed and felt the familiar morning wood, as if my penis was saying, 'Gonna need some relief soon, man.'

I thought, 'I know, I know buddy.'

After a shower and a hearty breakfast, I checked the time. I walked outside with two cups of steaming coffee and there she was.

"Right on time," I called as I walked to her car.

"Such a gentleman," she smiled and took the cup. "What's on the agenda today?" she asked.

"Well, let's see. Everything's done except harvesting the garden when things ripen, so I guess it's time to start stocking up on firewood for next winter."

"Firewood! Wow, you sure are industrious!"

"Gotta stay active, be productive."

Her eyes took on a dusky glaze. "That explains the good shape you're in. You must work up an incredible appetite."

"Practically insatiable."

We smiled at each other, seeming to draw the same undertones. She lowered eyes and smiled. "Good luck, Sam. Bye." And disappeared yet again.

I worked with renewed fervor, partly from her encouraging words about being in shape, and partly because I just wanted to get the job done. I broke out my chain saw and drove my little tractor and cart to a nearby vacant lot. Lightning had struck and downed a giant oak a few years past and now it was fairly dry. I could still see remnants of where lightning had charred the wood as I cut the massive tree into manageable pieces. Taking many trips back and forth to my house, I carted load after load. I had a substantial pile built up and ready to split by the time Melissa drove by.

On her way home, she stopped just long enough to shout through her passenger window, "That's a lot of wood, buddy. Is that hardwood?" She giggled.

"Sure is," I called from the pile. "Nothing burns as long or as hot as a good hardwood."

"Amen to that!" she laughed and drove home.

The following morning brought heavy summer rains so I stayed indoors and didn't see her. But the sun soon came out and the world looked refreshed. I pulled out my log splitter and started reducing the drums down to firewood. When she drove home that night I had made a lot of progress and half of the logs were reduced and piled up.

"Do you ever rest?" she asked from her car.

"Only at night," I replied and smiled at her.

The next morning I was out there on time. I began stacking rather than splitting because I didn't want to fire up the log splitter too early and bother anyone. I looked up the street to see that Jason's car was gone, but Melissa's was still there. Odd, I thought. Unless I had lost track of the days, this was Wednesday. Maybe she was sick. I worried to myself, 'If I don't see her by lunch time, I'll check on her then.'