“Hold up, he’s got a Jeep? Okay check. What else?” Marcella asks excitedly over the phone.
“He’s tall and so handsome. His black hair is shining in the sun and he’s got these charming crinkles around his eyes. I think they’re blue? I can’t see from here,” I say squinting through my window, trying to get a better look at this man who now lives a mere fifty feet away.
“Crinkles? Is he old?” Marcella asks disdainfully.
I roll my eyes. “I mean no older than thirty…maybe thirty-five?”
“Susie, that’s old,” Marcella says laughing on the other end. She can be so close-minded sometimes. I love her, but that’s a quality that clashes with my free spirt.
“Anyways…oh,” I say, suddenly getting quiet.
“Oh? Oh what?”
I feel my legs almost give out and I lean into my desk for support. My neighbor has just taken his shirt off and I can’t even answer Marcella, I’m so in awe of his broad chest and his perfectly molded abs.
“Hello, is anyone there?” Marcella calls out from the other end.
“Oh, sorry I just got so distracted! He just took his shirt off and oh my,” I murmur slack-jawed.
“It’s that good?” she asks from the other side. “I’m getting worried, Susie. What’s going on?”
I let out a muffled gurgle.
“Good doesn’t even come close to describing it, girlfriend. He has to work out. Nobody gets a body like that without putting in some serious time in the gym,” I tell her.
My eyes trace every inch of my new neighbor’s hot body. “And as if his body weren’t already perfect, he’s covered in tattoos! Like covered all over his muscular chests and his big strong arms. I’ve never seen a man so sexy. Holy shit, I’m going to pass out.”
Marcella squeals on the other side.
“Wow, and you live right next to this man? Lucky duck! I wish I had a neighbor that looked that that instead of Mrs. Gladys.” She keeps talking but I don’t even hear her.
Sweat is running in rivulets off my new neighbor’s body and he glistens in the bright sun. He wipes his face with his shirt then tucks it into his waistline. His cargo shorts sit loosely on his hips, the band of his briefs wrapping tightly around his muscular lower abs.
My eyes look over the bottom half of his body. He turns around and I see the tightness of his muscular butt. His strong legs also glisten with sweat in the sun. He squats in front of his Jeep and I watch his broad shoulders flex as he wipes off the front his car. I almost feel like he’s taunting me by putting on this display! My cheeks flush.
I listen half-heartedly to Marcella rattling on about her senile neighbor. At this rate I’m going to miss my chance to finally meet this man, so I cut off my best friend.
“Marc? I have to go. I’ll talk to you later!” I hang up quickly, ignoring the sounds of her protests.
I stare out my window again at the masterpiece that now lives next door. He’s standing and is facing my house, drinking a bottle of water. His wide chest and muscular arms shine brightly in the June sun.
All I want to do was run my hands all over his body like a woman savoring a sculpture of David. I have to figure out how to talk to him. But who am I kidding? It’s wrong for me to want such a mature man in this way. Marcella may have a point. He is older but still, thirty-five looks good on this man. In fact, he looks better than every man I know, regardless of age.
I shake the thought from my head again. Why would my new neighbor take interest in me? He’s obviously godawful gorgeous, and probably has a ton of supermodels hanging off his every word. Meanwhile, I’m just me. Susie Monroe, with the curly brown hair and too-curvy body. I’m no Cindy Crawford, that’s for sure.
Plus, I’m still in high school, so would he even be into that? Even worse, I’m still a virgin and have never let anyone get past the lightest petting session. That time with Curly Phillips was fucking awful. His hands were clammy and he wanted to go to third base, but I said no. I want to save myself for someone special. Someone who lights up my whole body, and who doesn’t make me recoil the way Curly did.
But it doesn’t matter. This man next door can absolutely have any woman he chooses. I’m just a nobody, right?
Unfortunately, my body desperately wants him. The worst he can do is say no, and put me off. I can handle that, hopefully.
I see him walking towards his garden and I start thinking furiously. An idea jumps into my head, and I rifle through my drawers to find the skimpiest tank top and shorts I can find. Without putting on a bra, I pull on the thin top and change into a red lacy thong. It’s silly because I know he can’t see it, but the racy lingerie makes me feel so brave and daring. I slide some revealing, black terry cloth shorts on over the thong and wiggle my ass a bit.