Sultry Neighbor

Chapter 1:Michael dreamed of a date with Lucy Clayton

Michael’s troubles began when Miss Calvin moved in next door. Michael’s father had died several years earlier, and Michael lived with his mother in a quiet suburban neighbourhood. The house next door had been empty for several months and it did not take too long for Michael’s mother to volunteer him for the task of tidying up Miss Calvin’s back yard.

Michael grimaced at the sight of it. It was summer; Michael was on summer break before returning to his final year of high school. The weather had been baking hot for the last week and the hot spell showed no signs of breaking. The yard had been a pleasant back garden, but now it was an overgrown mass of unruly grass and bushes. Even the paved areas were covered in straggling runners from the bushes in the border. Brandishing a huge pair of shears, Michael began trimming back plants.

Miss Calvin would appear at the back door every so often. Frequently there was a tray in her hands, a cool glass of lemonade resting on it for Michael to gulp down. She was an attractive woman in her early thirties. Truth be told, if Michael had been a little older he would have described her as stunning. As it was, his late-teen eyes were more concerned with the unattainable target of bedding Lucy Clayton than women almost twice his age.

Miss Calvin had high cheekbones and a firm jaw-line. Her pale blue eyes were striking and the overall look was dramatic, even slightly frightening. She had a body many models would have killed for. Firm, moderately large breasts, slim waist sliding into fuller hips, and long legs which she chose to show off by wearing very short skirts. This afternoon, her choice of garment was a figure-hugging mini-dress that pushed her breasts into a delicious valley of cleavage; which Michael was managing to not notice in his hurry to get the garden finished.

By five that evening, and despite as short a lunch break as he could manage, it was clear to Michael that he would never finish the garden today. At the very least he would be mowing the lawn the following day.

Miss Calvin appeared at the door while he leant on a rake, looking at the devastation he had wrought. “Not quite finished then, Michael?”

“Guess not, Miss Calvin. I’ll come back in the morning and finish up.”

“Would you like another glass of lemonade?” She was carrying another tray and Michael looked down at it. The glass had, it appeared, slipped on the tray leaving a trail of water where it had moved. It now rested almost touching Miss Calvin’s breasts and, for the first time that day, Michael really noticed the woman who had been serving him drinks. He was suddenly uncomfortably aware that he had not been wearing a shirt for hours and that the dress she was wearing left little to the imagination. He was also uncomfortably aware that his jeans were beginning to tent alarmingly.

Flustered, Michael said, “err, yeah, sure,” and grabbed the glass from the tray. As he did so, the backs of his fingers grazed the bare flesh of her left breast. There was an almost visible shock of static as their flesh touched. For a brief second Miss Calvin looked shocked before controlling herself. Michael almost dropped the glass. “Hey, wow! Static or something.” He quickly began gulping lemonade to cover his embarrassment.

“Yes,” Miss Calvin responded, “or something. You have a pleasant evening now. Just leave the glass on the step and I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and sweet dreams, Michael.” Then she was gone leaving him with one last image of her lycra-clad bottom disappearing into her house.

Michael dreamed of a date with Lucy Clayton. They were sitting on the back row of the local cinema and Michael had just managed to get Lucy out of her bra when someone sat down beside him. Uncomfortable with having someone watching him, he looked round... into the pale blue eyes of Miss Calvin.

“Hello, Michael,” she said, as though absolutely nothing was wrong. “Don’t let me interrupt you. I’ll just watch the film.”

Michael shook his head and turned back to the patiently waiting Lucy. Her nipples beckoned and he lowered his mouth to one of them. She groaned appreciatively, just the way he expected her to.

He stopped and looked around. Miss Calvin was still sitting there, dressed in a long, flowing, wrap-around gown in a blue that matched her eyes. She had to be wearing a bra, because her breasts were embellished with the same stunning cleavage as they had been that afternoon.

What was odd was that Miss Calvin seemed more real than Lucy did. He had never seen Lucy naked, and his imagination was taking care of the details from her neck down to her hemline. Miss Calvin appeared solid, almost as if she was physically there.

“Is something wrong, Michael?” she asked.

“Why are you in my dream?”

“You’re dreaming about sex. You must find me sexy. Isn’t that logical?”

“I usually just dream about sex with Lucy,” he replied, indicating the silent girl beside him.

Miss Calvin stood up, slid one leg past him, and ended up sitting on the back of the chair in front of Michael, her legs straddling his. Her dress was forced open below the waist where it tied, revealing that, while she might be wearing a bra, she was not wearing any other underwear. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed into a dark patch above her pussy and Michael found himself able to do little more than stare.

Forgotten, the dream-Lucy faded away in the chair beside him.