DISCLAIMER: The story you are about to read is purely fictional. Any possible similarities between the characters and events with people in real life are purely coincidental.
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So here I am, in a new neighborhood. I thought I could say goodbye to my past and start a new life here. The past few years have not been good for me. I had graduated college in the mid-90s and began a promising career as a web designer, at least I thought it was promising until the dot com crash followed by 9/11 and the recession that GW Bush seems to think doesn't exist.
On top of that, I was about to propose to my girlfriend of three years, when she hit me with the silly reality of her family. Her parents didn't like me because I was not of their ethnic cultural background, so they forbade her from marrying me. I thought this was America, she's a free person, she would tell her parents to let her live her own life.
I was wrong. She called me in tears one night and said she cannot go against her family. She told me not to call or see her ever again. You can imagine how crushed I felt and also how embarrassed I was at wasting three years in a relationship with her only to be dumped because I was not of her ethnic background.
Hurt and humiliated, I lost myself in my work as a web designer. It took some time, but after a load of BS and some freelance jobs, I managed to snag a good job in a cool firm. On top of that, this was one of those design firms that tried to save on overhead, so I pretty much could work from home. I occasionally had to go downtown for a meeting, but most of my work was at home and communication was over e-mail and phone. What a sweet deal.
Seeing as that I was 28 years old, living with my parents, and still embarrassed at my failed relationship, I needed a change of surroundings. While I didn't want to leave my home city of Chicago, I knew the city was big enough to get far away from all the garbage I had endured for the last number of years. I found a nice deal just outside of the city in a small suburb named Evanston. A 2-bedroom bungalow house. In less than a month, I had my savings down as a payment and I was on my own with my sense of dignity returning.
Winters in the Chicagoland area are harsh, comparable to a summer day in Siberia. I had spent my first two months in my new place with not much more companionship than my computer, the internet, my TV, and the occasional friend who would drop by to see how I was doing.
April hit, and I was finally treated to a gorgeous day. I opened my windows and let the warm Spring air enter my catacomb of a house, airing out the smell of months of hibernation. I sat at my desk fixing a graphic for a client when my eyes glanced out of my window...
...and I saw her.
Normally, I don't take interest in my neighbors' activities and movements, but I glanced out my window to see a vision of beauty and sexuality in the yard next door to mine. She was radiant, with long flowing straight dark hair and creamy white skin. She was dressed in a tiny pair of athletic shorts that covered her deliciously round ass with a tight baby t-shirt keeping her perfectly shaped chest held in place. I couldn't tell if she was wearing a bra, but at that moment I didn't care. She was tossing a bag of garbage into her can when she glanced up and saw me looking at her. I quickly turned my head back at my computer, but not before I saw her flash a smile up at me through the corner of my eye.
Ever vigilant, I pushed myself to get back to work, but I couldn't concentrate? My mind was on the gorgeous female figure right next door to me. Who is she? Where did she come from? Is she single? And the most important one to me...is she legal?
Unable to concentrate, I saved my files and decided I needed a break. I fixed myself a hot cup of green tea and headed out to my front porch with a magazine. I loved my porch...all concrete and brick, built to last. A few minutes passed and I was deep in an article about John Digweed when I heard a semi-seductive voice:
"Mixer?"
I looked up from my magazine and Digweed was now the last thing on my mind, as I looked to see my gorgeous neighbor standing before me. She looked incredible in her little athletic shorts and baby t-shirt. Not wanting to stare, I muttered the first thing that came to my mind.
"Huh?"
She replied: "Mixer Magazine? I never heard of that."
I said: "Oh! It's a club culture magazine. It covers nightclubs, DJs, raves, etc. I like it. So what's your name?"
She replied: "My name is Crissy. What's yours?"
I managed to get my libido out of my mind and get a little charming at this point.
"My name is Mark. Crissy huh?"
Crissy: "Well, my name is actually Cristina, but everyone calls me Crissy."
Mark: "Funny, you don't look like a Crissy."
Crissy giggled and said: "What's that supposed to mean? Like all the Crissy's in the world are supposed to be ditzy blondes? They can be hot intelligent brunettes like me too!"
Mark: "Ooooooookay...I see modesty is not a trait for you."
Crissy giggled again, and said: "You're funny. I saw you move in here back in February. How come I never see you out?"
Mark: "Well, I don't like winter very much."
Crissy: "But you live in the Chicagoland area."
Mark: "True. I'm crazy in the fact that I love Chicago, but I hate winter. Sounds nutty, doesn't it?"
Crissy: "Yeah."
I offered Crissy something to drink, and she gladly accepted. I led her inside my house as we got to the kitchen.
Crissy: "I like what you did with this place. You live here alone?"
I reached into the fridge and handed her a bottle of water. "Unfortunately yes."
Crissy: "No wife or girlfriend?"
