William was a quiet man. He always had been, at least as far as his neighbors could tell. He was a good neighbor, always ready with a wave and a smile. Always ready to lend a hand to a neighbor if needed. Crystal had been a regular recipient of his help ever since her divorce almost ten years ago. If the mower refused to start, a faucet suddenly decided to change its role to that of a shower head, a flat tire in the morning when she was always rushed to get the kids out the door and head to work. Yes, William had always been willing to help and never asked anything in return but a smile and a thank you.
Yes, William was the kind of neighbor everyone wanted. But much changed in such a short period of time. His ever effervescent wife Katy became ill and all too suddenly was gone. It only took a few short weeks for his ready smile to disappear and his strength to visibly fade. He was only fifty, a little less than twenty years older than Crystal, but now his body language was that of a man much older. She watched as he slowly faded into the home next door, coming out only to go to work or do some badly needed yard work. The many gardens of his yard, once replete with colorful flowers, were now mostly barren dirt patches, clumps of weeds growing in their usual disorderly fashion.
Seven months had passed since that black day in his life and Crystal was determined to pay back some of the friendship she had received from him over the years. He had never asked for anything back for his help, regardless of the time or the type of emergency. He had never been anything but a perfect gentleman, even when her spandex workout clothes were soaking wet from the spraying faucet she was trying desperately to stem. Even then, when it obvious to her that he had indeed noticed all of her curves and valleys, he stayed the perfect gentleman, trying hard not to stare. Part of her had wished that he had been less than gentlemanly, at least that time. Seeing that huge bulge in his soaking wet pants had made her think thoughts of him she hadn't before. Thoughts that certainly weren't appropriate to think about a married man.
But that was then. This was now. Now was her chance to try and repay some of the kindness he had shown her for these last years. Now was her chance to draw out that younger looking, energetic man still existing in that quickly aging shell. He was way too nice of a man to allow him to fade away this way. Even if she wasn't his type, she still hoped she could coax him back into the world again, giving him a chance to meet someone that could make that happy face shine again.
William sat in his favorite recliner, staring at the screen of his laptop. He had always loved to write, with several novels to his credit. Writing wasn't a living, that came from his work as an engineer. Writing was a love he had, as strong and passionate as the love he had held for his wife of twenty eight years. Of course that was before. Before she suddenly got ill, before the two weeks in the hospital, before he had to watch her slowly fade in front of his eyes, helpless to do anything, watching until her body was too weak to even breathe on her own. When the light went out in her eyes it also went out for so many parts of his life. His pastor admonished him to not live in the past. Accept that she had moved on to her place in heaven. Now it was time for him to move on as well. She wouldn't have wanted him to waste away, a tired lonely man. That isn't what she would have wanted. But he was finding it incredibly difficult to "move on". Everything seemed harder. Cooking meals alone, cleaning alone, living alone. It all seemed too hard some days. Today he chose to pull out his computer for the first time in many months and dust off the book he had been working on. Maybe today was the day to start writing again.
Of course, today wasn't the day. Today was definitely NOT the day to start writing again. He sat and stared at the computer screen, the cursor blinking silently, accusingly, at him. "Write. Go ahead and try!" it seemed to mock him. He sighed again as he sat in his workout shorts and t-shirt. Neither being worn for anything remotely like working out, but simply for comfort. It was how he used to sit and write. Of course writing often led to other things. His wife would walk by and kiss him or tease him by flashing her breasts. She loved to try and distract him from his writing, not because she was mean, but because she knew that when he wrote he was at his most passionate, and that translated into long gentle passionate love making. The kind she loved, not just because it made her feel good, but because it made her feel his love through her whole body. He smiled to himself at the thought of the last time they were together that way, an interlude in his writing that started when she walked up in front of him and took her shirt off on a Saturday afternoon, walking away without looking back, knowing he would be following close behind. He continued to smile at the thought of her pushing her sweat pants off and stepping out of them as she walked down the hall, finally tossing aside her bra so that all she had on when she stepped into the bedroom was a pair of tiny bikini panties.
He almost growled as his reminiscing was interrupted by the doorbell. He set his computer aside and walked to the door, a little surprised at the hardness in his shorts, especially given how little time has passed since... "Hello?" he asked as he pulled the front door open, standing behind it to partly block his hardened cock and partly to keep his barely dressed body from freezing in the cold November wind swirling in the door.
"Hi William," Crystal said pleasantly, standing on the other side of the door, bundled up in a long heavy coat, scarf, mittens and high leather boots. She stood expectantly, holding an aluminum foil covered tray in her hands.
"Hi," he answered quietly. It had been months since he'd even said hello to her in the yard, so seeing her on the other side of his door was even more of a surprise.
"Can I come in?" she asked tentatively.
"Uh. Sure," he answered, pulling the door open farther for her to step in, which she did.
"So the boys and I made some cookies and we thought you might enjoy some," she said as he closed the door behind her.
"Oh?"
"Uh huh. I was pretty sure that you said chocolate chip were your favs!" she said brightly, turning to face him, her eyes traveling down to the very noticeable tent in the front of his workout shorts. She worked to stifle a smile as she stood there, suddenly feeling very warm in all sorts of places.
"Um. Yeah, they are. Thanks," he said quietly as she pushed the tray toward him. He reached out and took it from him awkwardly.
"Why don't you take those to the kitchen before you drop 'em," she said with a smile. "The boys would be disappointed if the floor got them instead of you."
"Sure," he said, stepping past her and walking across the living room toward the kitchen. He looked behind himself and saw her following, but withheld comment, not wanting to be rude.
"Boy. It's pretty warm in here," she said, pulling her coat off as she walked. He looked over his shoulder to see her in a tight fitting dress, the black skirt only extending to the middle of her thighs and the red top hugging her large round breasts, exposing a significant sea of creamy white cleavage between them.
"Yeah. It seems I enjoy the warmth more than the cold in my old age," William answered her as he stepped into the kitchen, trying not to look back at her.
