“All right,” she said. “It’s a date, or whatever you want to call it.” She paused, stretching, revealing a few inches of her toned stomach. “I’m going to grab some breakfast, do you want anything?”
“No, I better start before your mom gets back. I don’t want to look like a slacker.”
“Alright,” she said, and trotted off to the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later with a bowl of cereal and sat cross-legged in the hall, out of my way, while I painted.
She ate and we talked, and she stayed afterward, chatting as I worked. She offered to help a few times but, to be honest, I had my technique down and any ‘help’ would just slow me down. We talked while I painted, and I was surprised by how much we had in common.
We heard her mother come in. Amy’s mood instantly changed. She looked at me, then her mother, in an odd way. She was nice to her mom but definitely not what I would call warm. As her mother made idle chitchat with me, Amy scurried off, giving us one last glance before she bounded up the stairs.
“It’s nice that you’re talking with Amy,” Susan said. “And I see it didn’t slow you down at all.” She stepped closer to me. I was on the ladder, and once again I could see right down her shirt. Her breasts were threatening to push out of her tank top, and I wondered if her choice in shirts was for my benefit.
She had lunch ready for me in a few minutes, and Amy came downstairs to join us. She had a t-shirt and some different running shorts on that were even shorter than the last pair. The two women eyed each other and the conversation seemed strained.
I finished and returned to the hall, where Amy sat with me. I was sitting now, doing the bottom of the wall with the edger. Amy sat with her knees up, talking about which movie to see. She seemed much happier when her mom wasn’t around and I felt sorry for her; it must not be easy with just one parent around, just the two of them to focus all their energy and attention on.
As we continued to chat I started to sneak covert glances at her legs, which were very toned. As I secretly followed the line of her thigh downward, I had to struggle not to react when I saw up her shorts. She wore nothing underneath, and there I sat, looking at her bushy vagina. It wasn’t excessively hairy. We sat there, talking while I painted, her entire glory on display to me.
My d*ik was throbbing with each heartbeat. I tried to maintain eye contact, but even her beautiful blue eyes weren’t enough to keep my brain wandering back.
“Well,” she finally said, getting up, “I’m going to go run for a while.” Her mother had just entered the room and I wondered if Amy was aware of what I could see. “I’ll see you tonight,” she said, and left.
“Tonight?” Susan said after Amy had left.
“Oh, we’re going to the movies,” I said casually, resuming my painting.
“A date?” Susan asked, her eyebrow raised.
“No, just neighbors,” I said.
“I see,” Susan said cryptically. She left after a few moments but returned as I was finishing up.
“It looks good,” she said. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a nap in the living room.
” She saw my expression and grinned, adding, “with my shirt on this time.”
“Do you usually take a nap topless?” I asked casually. I figured that after yesterday, we could talk about it like adults.
“Usually, unless I have my neighbor over to paint,” she added. “To be honest, I don’t like to wear a lot of clothing. She paused, touching an area of dried paint before asking
“speaking of which, did you really rush past without looking yesterday? Be honest, I won’t get mad.”
“Um, well, to tell the truth, I may have taken a quick look. But I wasn’t trying to be creepy, and I did announce myself twice first.”
“I’m not upset. It’s normal, male curiosity. So then let me ask you another question that you can feel free to answer honestly. What did you think?”
“Think?” I asked, a little slow to pick up what she meant.
“About my breasts,” she said slowly, to make sure I understood. “I’d like your opinion of them.”
I paused, and she looked at me expectantly, adding, ” I need your honest appraisal. I can handle it.” Her eyes twinkled like Amy’s.
“I don’t know,” I said. “My memory’s fuzzy.”
I meant it as a joke, and for a fraction of a second she did nothing, and I was terrified I had offended her. I was about to apologize for my comment when the unexpected happened. Without a word she reached up and tugged her tank top down. It had spaghetti straps and came right down and bunched up on her waist.
There, not two feet away from me, were her br**sts. I stared and she stared right back at me, waiting for my reaction.
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