“Hey, neighbordude,” she called from behind the screen door, “you got a minute? Can you give me a hand?”

I’d just finished mowing the front lawn, was sweaty, dirty, and very hot. “Got something cold to drink? If you do, I can make a few minutes,” I responded.

“Alright. I just need you for, I dunno, a half hour or so. My dad and his wife are gone and I need some help. Look, the doors unlocked. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Those were probably the longest sentences she’s said to me since moving back in with her dad and likely the only things she’d ever said of her own accord. I’d kinda given up getting her to talk beyond hi, bye, and an occasional question about where her father was or if she’d have her friends move their car so it wasn’t blocking my driveway. She was always nice, but rarely had anything to say to me.

To be quite honest, I was surprised she even wanted my help. We had a strange history, her and I. Not in a bad way, but it seemed I was always either inconveniencing her or getting her in trouble.

Three years ago, she moved in with her father after graduating high school. Apparently she’d fallen out with her mother again and this was her routine – to go back and forth. Alonzo, her father, kept a pretty quiet life and rarely had visitors. He and I would get together once or twice a week for a glass of scotch or some gin drink and talk shit about politics. Well, no sooner had she moved in than his house seemed to be a hub of activity. Her girlfriends would come and go at all hours of the day or night. And for some reason, they liked to park with their cars half way in front of the driveway to my house, either keeping me in or out of my driveway. You’d almost think I was asking her to mow my lawn or weed my garden after I asked her to have the car moved… every single time.

The first time Alonzo left her alone while he flew back to Italy (yeah, he’s Italian), she had a party. I got up Saturday morning to run some errands and my lawn, as well as the street between our houses, was littered with beer cans and fast food trash. There was a pile of puke on my lawn and a kid laying on the grass a few feet from it. I nudged him with my foot to make sure he was alive, then knocked on her door. All I told her was that I wanted the shit clean and to get the puking kid off my grass. Well, I may have said something about the puke. A few weeks later, I asked Alonzo about the kid. He, of course, had no idea that his daughter hosted a party at his house.

Last spring, I was reading the paper and saw a picture of a girl who looked a lot like her standing next to a Blazer that looked a lot like Alonzo’s. It, however, was hooked up to a tow truck. The caption was something about cars being towed for a road race we have here every spring. A few days later, Alonzo and I were drinking some conjac on the back porch and I asked him about the incident and how much it cost to have the Blazer towed. He looked at me like I was crazy, then I went to the recycle bin and grabbed the paper. He apparently had no idea about it. I guess I could go on, but that seemed to be the boundaries of our… relationship. Move cars, clean shit up, and I don’t say anything else to Alonzo. Well, I’d still say hi and bye if I saw her outside and either of us was coming or going.

After the towing fiasco, I tried to keep my mouth shut. She disappeared at the end of that summer. Alonzo said she’d taken a job in Nevada or something vague. I didn’t ask any questions, but it was obvious she left on bad terms. When we’d have too much to drink, he’d occasionally say something about how he wished she’d get her shit together, but that was about it.

I walked up the steps to Alonzo’s house and she’d left the door cracked. I pushed it open and was greeted by a blast of cold, air conditioned air and the ugly brown shag carpet that was probably in the house when it was built Bostancı Escort 20 years ago. I was always giving Alonzo shit about it. I knowingly made my way up the half-stairs of the split level and walked into the kitchen. There was a Corona on the counter with a slice of lime shoved in the bottle.

“Thanks for the beer,” I called.

“I’ll be right out,” her voice called from somewhere in the bottom of Alonzo’s split level house, “just a minute.”

“Take your time,” I yelled in response, pulling up a chair to the bar counter and taking a long pull of the beer. After five minutes of waiting, enjoying the cool air and listening to the hum of the air conditioner, I heard her coming up the stairs behind me. I turned and was stunned.

She was walking up the last few stairs, holding a dress so it wouldn’t fall down her with one hand and holding a tall drink of some sort in the other. Her dark auburn hair fell over her shoulders and she looked… sexy.

“What?” she said, a little nervous.

“Well, for the last few years, all I’ve ever seen you wear is baggy sweats, ratty t-shirts, and you were either wearing hats or had your hair pulled up in a bun. Hell, you clean up nice.”

She laughed and said, “thanks, I guess.”

“No, really. Wow. I can hardly believe you are Alonzo’s daughter.” Extending my hand I said, “You know, we’ve never really been introduced, I’m Kyle.”

“You don’t expect me to fall for that, do you?” she asked, turning around. “Zip me up first.” She turned, set her drink on the counter, and backed up to me, her ass planted against my knee as her now free left hand pulled her hair over her pale shoulder.

I set my beer down and reached down to zip her up. If there was a sexy back, it was hers. The zipper started just above her ass and from what I could tell, she wasn’t wearing anything under the dress. What caught my attention, though, was a tree tattooed on her back that started lower than I could see and ended between her shoulder blades. “Nice ink,” I said, “at least what I can see of it.” Then I slowly zipped up her dress.

She turned and extended her hand to mine. “I’m Bella. I figured my dad would have told you that much. Well, I imagine he’s told you a lot, but you had to know my name.”

“Naw, I mean, he’s talked about you, but he always calls you ‘that girl’ or ‘my daughter.’ I was starting to think you didn’t have a name. Or that it was either girl or daughter.”

She laughed loudly. “Shit. That old man talks too much. Anyhow, thanks for the zip.” She did a spin and asked “How do I look?”

I smiled. “Honestly, I didn’t think there was a girl under those sweats and hats. Really, you look fantastic. Shit.” I was at a loss for words. That she even had a figure surprised me. Not very skinny, but curvy and… well proportioned.

She laughed again then turned. “Good. I’m going to a wedding tomorrow and trying to find the perfect dress. Unzip me. I need to try a few more.

Without question, I complied. As I unzipped her dress, she let it fall down her body slightly, exposing most of her ass and the full tree tattoo. “It took three months to get the whole thing done. It hurt. A lot. And was expensive. But was worth every penny.”

It was an olive tree and it’s roots started mid way down the curve of her ass, which was nice and round. How had I not noticed that, even hidden in the sweats? I’m an ass man at heart, and always looked, but those damn sweats. I pushed the back of her dress open wider only to notice that there were other things tattooed on her that seemed to go around her body.

“Ok, ok, I gotta go try another dress. Wait here,” she said, more of a command than a request. As she walked away, I turned my chair to watch her go. She made no effort to pull the dress back up and her little exposition confirmed something – that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

In Kadıköy Escort a few minutes, she was back with another dress. This one slinky and red. My feet were on the ground this time, my knees spread a little, and she pushed herself between them, pulled her hair back over her shoulder, and simply said, “Zip,” to which I immediately complied. She stepped forward and spun again. “And how’s this one?”

It was hot. She was hot. “You need to ditch the sweats, Bella. I can’t believe this…” I reached down, grabbed my beer, and finished it in one long gulp, my eyes never leaving her.

“You are funny, Kyle. Naw, I just want to be noticed, I guess. Want another beer?” She asked as she pulled one from the fridge and reached for her bottle opener. Again, it was more of a statement than a question, but at the moment, I’d have done anything to make my zipping session last longer.

“Well, you’d definitely be noticed more if you weren’t always in sweats. I’m noticing you now, that’s for sure.” I drank about half of the new Corona she’d set in front of me as she picked up her drink and took a long pull from it.

Again, she laughed, then set down her drink and moved towards me then turned around. As she backed into me, her ass rubbed against my crotch. “Unzip, please?” she asked. A little less of a statement this time.

As I unzipped, she backed into me again. I put my mouth to her ear. “Where is your family to help with this fun task?” As the zipper hit bottom, my left hand slid inside the back of her dress along the roots of her olive tree.

She inhaled deeply, a little surprised at my touch. “They went to the Oregon coast until next Sunday, she said. My hand reached her bellybutton as my lips touched her ear. I briefly played with the hoop that protruded from her bellybutton when she slowly stepped forward, pulling away from me. “I have one more dress to try,” she said, her face a little red. As she walked away from me, she clung to her dress and looked down.

I thought I’d really fucked up. The last thing I needed to do is get myself in trouble making a pass at Alonzo’s daughter. Then I tried to rationalize myself. Not a big deal. We are both drunk. Or at least I had a good buzz. And just when I started to think she wasn’t going to come back, she came back up the stairs, this time with a little off white dress.

“Sorry to keep you so long, Kyle,” she said coyly. “I think this is the last one. I need to make up my mind and take two of these back to Macy’s later tonight.” Clasping the top of the dress over her breasts, she walked up, turned around, pressed herself against my crotch and slightly wiggled. “Zip, please,” she asked. I complied very slowly.

I decided to go balls to the wall and leaned to her ear again. “I hope I wasn’t… out of bounds,” I whispered as I zipped her the rest of the way up.

She took a small step forward, turned around, looked me in the eyes, and asked, “How do I look?”

I tilted my head to the side and reached my right hand out to her hip. “Delicious,” I said, pulling her back toward me.

To my amazement, she moved in to my pull and put her lips to mine. My right hand moved to her other hip, then up her back to the zipper of the dress and pulled slowly. As we kissed, I slid the zipper all the way down her back. Her hands moved in response, to my belt and she unfastened it and moved to unbutton my shorts. I slid my hands up her body then pulled the dress down her, uncovering her small but ample breasts and letting the dress fall to the ground. My mouth moved to her ear, then down her neck as my hands gently cupped her tits, playing with them, fondling them, becoming acquainted with them.

“Stop,” she said in a breathy tone, then stepped back, stepping out of her dress. “Come on.” And with that, she turned toward the steps. As she stepped back form me, I saw where the Göztepe Escort roots of her olive tree touched and formed a circle around her belly button and saw the glint of silver that was her belly button hoop. As she moved down the stairs she said, “And leave your clothes up there. It’s only fair.”

I pushed my shorts and boxers over my hips and tossed my tank-top to the ground then followed her down the stairs. The lights were off, but the haze of daylight made its way through the curtains and blinds so Bella was easy to follow. I saw her walk into the last door on the right and followed.

She stood there, her back to me, and just seeing her shadows in the darkness made my erection complete. My hand moved absently to my cock and I stroked it a few times, then moved behind her, wrapping my arms around her, my right hand moving to her breasts and my left dropping between her legs.

Above her labia she was mostly shaved, leaving a landing strip. I’d never actually seen one outside of porn, but even it was trimmed rather short. My hand pushed down, my middle finger moving between her lips and over her clit, my index and other fingers on either side of her lips. As my finger moved over her clit, she let a gasp escape her lips. I don’t know how long I rubbed her for, but she was starting to moan loudly.

“On your belly,” I told her, releasing her and pushing her toward what I assumed was her bed. She didn’t say a word, but moved to the bed, crawling on it and lifting her ass for me. I stroked my cock again, this time the precum stuck to my fingers and cock, then moved toward her, crawling on the bed, moving over her. My cock pressed against her ass and I took it in my left hand, pushing it against her. She spread her legs slightly and I pushed against, then inside, her wetness. Moving my left arm back to support me, I started moving in and out of her from behind. She was moaning with each thrust, as was I. She came quickly, after what seemed like only seven or eight thrusts.

I pulled out of her and told her to roll over, then kissed her lips, which she met eagerly, and moved my mouth down her neck to her breasts, belly button, and slid my body down so I could look at her pussy. It was beautiful. I didn’t waste much time in admiration, however, and stuck my left index and middle finger inside her. She gasp, as I don’t think she was quite expecting that. As I started moving them in and out of her, I moved my mouth to the mound of skin covering her clit and pushed my tongue under and against it. This time, she moaned loudly, almost screaming, and her hands moved to my head, pushing me against her pussy. Her feet dug into her bed and she was pushing her ass up, forcing her clit into my mouth as my fingers moved in and out of her faster. As she came in my mouth, she let out a loud cry and her pussy became very wet and very sweet. I pulled my fingers from her and licked her juices, then licked and nibbled my way back up her body to her lips again.

As I kissed her again, I was worried that she’d have a hangup kissing me and tasting her own juices, but that didn’t seem to be present. Her tongue pressed against mine like we were in junior high. My cock, still hard, pressed against her lips and I lifted my hips so it could slide inside her. She opened herself wide, using her feet to pull me in and locking her ankles behind my ass. Kissing her, I pushed in and out, my arms moving under her, my hips rotating, gyrating myself into her. Again, she came, and as she did, she was very juicy again. And that did something to me. The feel of her juices, being more slippery, I started thrusting harder and found myself on the edge.

Sensing I was close, she unlocked her ankles and put her feet on the bed and pushed herself up, meeting my faster thrusts. And like that, I came. Inside her, and collapsed on top of her.

As I lay there on top of her, still inside her, letting my hardness fade, she was rubbing my back with one hand and playing with my hair with the other. Finally, as my erection gave way and my cock slid out of her, she asked the question.

“So Kyle… what dress did you like best?”

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