Next-Door Neighbor

Next-Door Neighbor

It was Billy’s birthday and he got to spend it with his fantasy woman, his next-door neighbor. Sometimes you actually get your birthday wish.

Author’s note: Every character in or referenced in this story is 16 years old or older. Sometimes in real life people lie about their age. In the same manner, these story characters may lie about their age, stating that they are younger than 16. But I am stating here and now, as the author of this story, that every single character is at least 16 years old. Any reference to an age younger than 16 is a lie, stated by the character or narrator of the story in an attempt to shock the reader. But do not believe them. It is not true. They are really 16 years old or older. Believe me. I know. I wrote the story.


“Hey Billy.” My neighbor was calling my name from across the hedge. Her voice sounded so crisp and clear, just like the morning. It was a June Friday morning, I was done with high school and was planning on doing nothing all summer until I started college in the Fall.

“Hi Mrs. C,” I called back. Hannah Clark, or Mrs. C as I called her, was my next-door neighbor. She was petite, only about five feet high, but well proportioned. I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen even if she was in her late 20’s. I had the good fortune to see her once soaking wet. She got caught out walking when a sudden downpour hit. I was helping my mom out by pulling some weeds right by the edge of our property near her front porch when she came running up her walkway. I swear her tits barely bounced and I could see them through her soaked blouse. The ring around her nipples was dark and the nipples themselves poked out long and hard. It was a quick look so I may have just imagined some of it but what I wouldn’t give to find out for sure. Ever since then she has been my fantasy when I take care of myself, generally on a daily basis. The one catch in my fantasy is that she is married and must be happily so as she is newly pregnant.

“Happy birthday,” she called out.

“Thanks Mrs. C,” I replied.

“So Billy, now that you’re a man and all, what are you going to do for your 18th birthday?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Nothing planned,” I told her.

“Have you had breakfast yet this morning?” Mrs. C asked me.

“Not yet. I slept in and my parents already left for work so I missed breakfast,” I explained. “But I thought I would fix myself a bowl of cereal or something.”

Mrs. C. sternly chided me. “I won’t hear of it. You come over here right now and I’ll fix you up a breakfast worthy of a real man, seeing that you are now 18.”

It only took me an instant to be there and I followed her into her house. As we walked into the kitchen I asked, “How’s Mr. C?”

“Oh fine, I guess.” She had that disappointing tone to her voice. “My husband has been really busy lately so we don’t spend as much time together.” There was something more to it than that. I could tell from the way she answered my question and the sound in her voice. But I wasn’t going to pry, too much.

“Where’s Mr. C?” I wondered out loud.

“He had to go out of town for the weekend again,” she explained. “He’ll be back Tuesday.”

Hearing that actually made me a little excited, knowing that I was here with Mrs. C all alone. “How’s the baby, I mean how are you doing, I mean with the baby?” Stupid, I’m so stupid. I’m trying to sound grown up and I sound so juvenile.

She laughed. “I’m doing just fine Billy, and so is the baby. You know I’m not even three months pregnant, yet my body has been changing, more than just the growing baby. Well I shouldn’t really be talking about it. How do you like your eggs?”

“Over easy,” I answered “…and what do you mean you shouldn’t be talking about it. You can’t tell a person part of a story and then leave them hanging. It’s … well it’s rude. So see, you have to tell me. What’s changing?”

“You’ll laugh at me,” she said.

“I promise I won’t laugh, honest.”

“Swear to me you won’t tell a soul,” she demanded.

I was really intrigued now. “I swear on my death that whatever you tell me today goes nowhere else,” I promised. “In fact I won’t ever tell anyone that I was over here today. I’m not here. Today is your free day. Anything you say or do today never happened. Is that good enough for you Mrs. C.?”

“OK, OK, don’t overdo it. Yes, that’s good enough,” she conceded. “In fact that’s perfect. But first you need to eat your breakfast, eggs over easy, bacon, link sausage, and my own special breakfast drink made especially for you on your 18th birthday.”

“Wow thanks Mrs. C. What’s in the drink?” I asked.

“Oh a mixture of juices and some secret ingredients just for you,” she teased.

“Secret? Like what?” I took a taste and it was pretty good.

“Well if I told you then it wouldn’t be a secret would it?” she replied.

“Come on Mrs. C., tell me, please?” I begged.

“Maybe later,” she conceded. “But now you wanted to hear how I’ve changed. Alright here goes.” Her voice got lower as if she was afraid someone would hear her. “I’m not sure what it is exactly but now that I’m pregnant, I’m more, well I mean I want, I need, I … Oh shit, oh forgive my language. OK, I’m just going to say it. I’m horny as hell.