Handiman

I live in a medium-sized town in middle America. Our development fits into the category of second homes. That means the homes are the second home that families buy as their careers improve and their salaries do the same. Most families have two wage earners and are here for a few years before they opt to move further upscale. They sell this home and buy a larger, more impressive home in a more upscale community.

My family is an exception. We've lived here for almost fifteen years. My dad has done well financially and my mom has been a stay-at-home mom. They saved their money and opted for experiences rather than appearances. Experiences meant travel. By the time I graduated from high school last June, I'd seen dozens of National Parks, visited thirteen countries and cruised both the Caribbean and Mediterranean Seas.

The house next to ours had been sold three times in my memory and was listed on the market about a month ago when the family moved out suddenly. It sold quickly and there had been activity next-door all-day Saturday that continued into Sunday.

I was outside on Saturday mowing our lawn when the moving truck pulled up next door. The outside gardening was something I did every week during the growing season. I was wearing my usual outdoor work outfit, torn jean shorts without a shirt and low-cut untied canvas shoes without socks. I was home alone, my parents were off on a long weekend sojourn without me for the first time since I had turned eighteen two months ago.

I finished the lawn and took a break on the front porch with a large glass of iced tea. I watched three burly guys in coveralls unload several rooms of furniture that disappeared into the house and hundreds of cardboard boxes that were stacked in the double garage. Eventually, the truck was empty, the rear door closed, the workers climbed into the truck and it drove away. Our new neighbors stood in the driveway, watched the truck leave, and surveyed the mountain of boxes and other items in the garage.

The man stood with his arm around his wife's waist as they considered the task ahead of them. He was tall, longish dark hair, short full beard and built more like Ed Norton than Woody Allen. His wife, I assumed they were married, was shorter with shoulder length auburn hair and full figured. She was wearing sandals, very short blue shorts and a torn off t-shirt that showed her toned midsection. They both appeared to be in their early forties.

I was working on the lawn edging with a string trimmer when I heard our new neighbor shout, "Randy." I looked up. She was standing in the garage trying to move an oversized box onto a too small hand cart.

"Randyyyy," she called again.

I walked over to her. "May I help?" I asked.

Obviously, I startled her. She hadn't heard or seen me walking over. "Oh," she jumped. "You startled me," she said.

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I just saw you struggling with that box and thought I might be able to help."

"Thank you for your generous offer but I think my husband can help," she explained.

"He doesn't seem to be responding," I observed.

"I don't know where he is," she said. "I think he's somewhere inside."

"Look, I'm here now. Let me help in his absence," I offered.

I pushed on the box she was attempting to move. "Either way, that hand cart won't support that box. My dad has a more substantial hand cart in the garage. Let me get it for you and you and your husband can use it to move these boxes."

"Well, okay," she agreed. "If you don't mind."

When I returned with the hand cart, she and her husband were looking at the size of the box and their hand cart. She saw me coming. "Randy," she said. "This is ... I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"Jon," I told her. "Only my mother calls me Johnathon."

Her smile was genuine. "Randy," she continued. "This is Jon. He lives next door and he saw me struggling with the box and offered to help."

"Hey, Jon," said Randy and he put out his hand to shake. "Thanks. We appreciate the help."

I shook his hand and pushed the handcart in his direction. "You're welcome," I said. "I think this will work better than the hand cart you have."

Randy looked at the carts. "I think you're right," he agreed. "Thanks again."

His wife interrupted. "How rude of me," she said. "I'm Henrietta," she said and put out her hand.

I shook her hand. It was smooth and soft, genuine like her smile. "My friends call me Etta."

"Does that include me?" I asked.

She looked at Randy. "Why not," she said. "We're neighbors now."

I spent the rest of the afternoon helping my new neighbors move boxes and reposition furniture. Midafternoon Randy suggested he could manage the boxes in the garage and that I could help Etta inside. In the living room, Etta and I moved the furniture from the center of the room and laid out an area rug before replacing the furniture where she wanted it.

We worked in the kitchen washing the drawers and cabinets while the dishes and glassware were washed in the dishwasher before being put away. Near six, we took a break at the newly positioned kitchen table. Etta invited me to stay for supper and Randy suggested pizza. I suggested a place nearby and Randy left to pick up the pizza. I went home and returned a few minutes later with three beers.

Etta and I sat at the table waiting for Randy and the pizza. Etta looked around at the disarray of her new home. "I have no idea how I'm going to get this under control," she mused.

"It'll all come together sooner than you think," I suggested.

"It's not that simple," she told me. "Randy has to go to work in the morning and I'll be home to do the work alone."

"On Sunday?" I asked.

Randy returned at that moment. "Are you okay, Etta?" he asked. "You look defeated somehow."

"I'm fine," she told him. "But I was just telling Jon how much work was left to be done especially since you have to go to work in the morning."

"Actually," added Randy. "It's worse than that. I work closely with the sales and marketing divisions as well as manufacturing and technical support. That's why we've been transferred here, to headquarters. I have to go to Cincinnati in the morning and probably won't be back for several days."

"I'd forgotten that," moaned Etta. "We're going to be in a mess for weeks."

We sat around the table, eating slices of pizza and sipping beers while Randy and Etta processed their plight. "I have an idea," Randy said. "Jon, could you help Etta while I'm gone? I'd be glad to pay you."'

"I'm not busy this week," I told him. "I could do that and there's no need to pay me. Just a neighbor helping another neighbor."

"Is that a good idea?" asked Etta. "We hardly know Jon and I'd be alone with him. What would the neighbors think?"

"Etta," Randy replied. "Jon doesn't look like the neighborhood murderer or rapist to me. Are you dangerous, Jon?"

I laughed. "No more dangerous than you, Randy," I told him.

Randy smiled. "How about the neighbors?"

"People in this neighborhood are usually very friendly. I doubt they'll read anything into me helping Etta. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if a couple of them offered to help as well. If it would make Etta more comfortable, we could leave the doors open while I was here," I suggested.

"Then it's settled, honey. Jon will help you while I'm gone," finalized Randy.

"I'm comfortable with that," offered Etta. "I'd be grateful for his help."

"And I'd be glad to help," I said.

"That settles it," said Randy. "Given things will be under control tomorrow, I think we can knock off for today," he suggested.

"What time tomorrow should I come over?" I asked.

"I have to leave early," said Randy. "What time works for you, Etta?"

Etta thought for a moment. "Eightish?" she asked.

"That works for me," I said.

Randy stood up. "I guess that's it then."

I stood and shook his hand. "Thanks again, Jon," he said.

I nodded at Etta. "See you in the morning," I said.

"Looking forward to it," Etta smiled.

I didn't sleep well that night. I couldn't get carnal thoughts about Etta out of my mind. That kind of thinking wasn't unusual for me. I was eighteen and horny. I frequently thought about sex with girls and women I'd met during the day and the age difference between me and Etta wasn't an issue. It was mostly fantasy but it did contribute to masturbating while I tried to go to sleep.

I showered in the morning, put on jeans and a t-shirt, and had a large breakfast. I put on my sneakers and headed next door about ten minutes past eight.

Randy's car was gone and Etta was waiting for me. She was dressed similarly to yesterday, only her hot pink shorts seemed shorter. She wore a white cut off t-shirt like yesterday only it looked older, worn and not so opaque. I wondered if she was wearing a bra. I confirmed its absence when she turned suddenly and led me into her house.

"Breakfast?" she asked as she led me into the kitchen.

"I've already eaten," I told her. "There's a lot to do. We should get started."

I couldn't read the expression on her face. Disappointment maybe? "Fine," she said.

She led me to the garage. There seemed to be fewer boxes that I remembered from yesterday. "Most of these have to go upstairs to the guest bedrooms," she told me.

She picked up a box. I picked up another and followed her upstairs. There were already several boxes in the room and a pile of empty and folded boxes in a corner. I helped her rearrange the dressers and put the bed together. "I'll put the stuff in these boxes away," she said. "Can you bring more of them up?"

"Yep," I agreed and headed out of the room and downstairs. I came back with another box. Etta was busy filling dresser drawers. Three boxes later, the boxes were starting to get in the way. I broke down the empty boxes and put them on the pile in the corner. I sat on the unmade bed while Etta worked. When she started on the last box, I broke down the newly emptied boxes and went back for more.

I brought up three more boxes. Etta opened one of them. "Oh, this one belongs in the master bedroom," she declared. "Could you take it in there and put it in the closet?"

I picked up the box and started down the hall, looking for the master bedroom. I found it at the other end of the hallway. The room was orderly, obviously the first room Randy and Etta had focused on. I found the walk-in closet through the large bathroom with its huge shower and separate soaking tub. The closet was divided into his and hers section. I put the box on her side of the closet and turned to leave.

Etta was standing in the doorway. "Ooo," I said. "You startled me."

"Not my plan," Etta said.

"How she said it both bothered and excited me.

"What is your plan?" I asked. The look in her eyes gave me a hint but I ignored it. Only in my fantasies.

"I thought we could take a break and get to know each other better," Etta suggested.

"There's a lot to do," I reminded her. "We should get as much done as we can before Randy gets home."

"He won't be home until late Wednesday," Etta told me. "He left at five o'clock this morning and I've been working since then to get ahead. I think we have time for a break."

"Okay," I said.

"Not in here," she said.

Etta led me back to the guest room. She pulled a sheet out of an open box. "Help me with this," she said and we pulled the sheet over the bed and tucked it in under the mattress. Etta sat on the side of the bed and patted the bed next to her. I sat down carefully.

Etta looked at me. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help and I want to compensate you."

"I don't want to be paid," I reminded her.

"I wasn't thinking about money," Etta replied with a smile.

"What then?" I asked.

Etta put a hand on my hip. "Oh," I said.

"I think you get the idea," suggested Etta.

I wasn't a virgin but I'd only had sex once before and that was at my graduation party with a cousin a year older than me who came to the party. She spent a lot of time with me asking me about where I was going to school in the fall. When I told her I didn't have any plans, she began lobbying for me to attend State. It was reasonably inexpensive and my mom and dad could afford it. She tried to convince me by telling me stories about life in the dorms and how much fun it could be. At the end, she decided to show me. We fucked in my bedroom and, later, she told me she would be available on campus whenever I wanted to see her.

Conflicted between my conscious and my libido, I asked, "What about Randy?"

"He's not here and you are," Etta said.

"Do you do this often?" I asked.

"Only if Randy isn't home," Etta said.

"And when he's home?" I asked.

"Then there's usually a partner for him," Etta explained.

"What if he finds out?"

"We could wait until Wednesday night," Etta offered. "Do you have someone you can offer him?"

"No," I admitted.

"Then today's the day. We won't tell him," Etta told me.

She squeezed my thigh and leaned in to kiss me. I kissed her without emotion.

"You seem nervous," Etta observed. "Haven't you done this before?"

"No. I've had sex before but never with someone as experienced as you seem," I confessed.

"Then I'll lead and I'll be gentle," Etta promised.

"Okay," I agreed.

"Kiss me," Etta. said.

I leaned toward her and our lips met. I was nervous. My cousin hadn't been into kissing. All I could think of was the dozens of ways I could screw this up. Her lips were warm and pliant. They trembled against my lips. I put a hand behind her neck and pressed my lips more firmly against her lips. Her lips parted and her tongue slid along the width of my lips. My lips parted and her tongue counted my teeth.

I opened my mouth, our tongues met and then my tongue was in her mouth. Our lips sealed and I couldn't breathe. We separated. "Wow, Jon. Are you sure you're only eighteen?" Etta asked.

"Why do you think I'm eighteen?" I asked.

Etta looked concerned. "You're not?" she asked.

"No. I am," I told her. "I just wanted to know how you knew."

Etta looked relieved. "I guessed," she said with a smile.

I kissed her again. She put her arms around my head, intensified our kiss, and fell back on the bed, pulling me on top of her in the process. My right hand landed on her abdomen, slid up under her t-shirt and palmed her left breast.

Etta exhaled and I almost passed out. She was reacting to me holding her breast. I was reacting to me holding her breast. My cousin and I didn't take much time to explore each other's bodies. It was the first live woman's breast I'd ever held and it was nothing like I imagined. It was infinitely better.

Etta put her hand on her shirt over my hand and pressed my hand hard. I don't know if my sharp intake of breath came before or after I found her nipple with my fingers. She pulled up her shirt, exposing her breasts and pushed my head down with my mouth over her nipple.

I sucked her nipple between my lips. Etta moaned. I sucked her nipple into my mouth. Etta moaned louder. I was in virgin territory but I was learning fast.

Suddenly, Etta sat up and pulled her t-shirt off over her head. Then she unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts and began to wiggle them and her panties down her thighs, calves and off her feet. "Don't just lay there watching," she ordered.

I got her message. My shirt, jeans and boxers landed off the bed somewhere. Etta pulled me against her, kissed me, and rolled us over. She sat up, her legs straddling my hips. Her breasts hung within arm's reach and I closed the distance, one breast in each hand.

Etta closed her eyes and pushed her chest into my hands. She pushed her right hand between our bodies obviously looking for my erection. It wanted to be found and she found it quickly.

"Oh my God," she said. She slid back on my thighs to get a view of her captive. She held my erection vertically in her hand. "This is incredible," she said. "Do you have any idea how much of a challenge you're going to be for me?"

I didn't but I was beginning to understand why my cousin told me I could see her anytime I wanted.

Etta shifted back up, straightened her back and lifted her hips. She positioned me and lowered herself until her labia just touched the top of my erection. She began to slide my erection back and forth between her labia, slightly more contact with each pass. It was a feeling I would take to my grave with me.

Eventually, my erection settled between her labia. She let go and pushed her body down a millimeter or two. I twitched my hips. "Don't move," she said. "Let me do it."

I stiffened my hips and waited. Slowly, one millimeter at a time, Etta settled down with me between her lips. Soon, I felt the ridge at the root of my glans slip between the opening of her vagina. Etta exhaled and pressed down further, more aggressively. I felt the walls of her vagina stretch as I entered her. I felt my erection contact something hard and Etta stopped moving. I guessed that I had reached her cervix although I figured about an inch or more of my erection remained exposed. I was unprepared for the intensity of the emotion that accompanied the physical euphoria.

Etta put her hands on my chest, closed her eyes, and began to shift and wiggle on my erection. I felt something move and Etta settled completely down on my body, our pelvic bones and pubic hair in contact.

Etta took a deep breath and began to move slowly up and down on my erection. The second time she moved up, I tensed and, when she moved down, I pushed up. "Oh, fuck. Do that again," she shouted.

We began a mutual rhythm. I read somewhere that the average length of a fuck was three to five minutes. I wasn't going to make it. The tingling at the end of my erection had already started and when it reached my prostate the result would be explosive. "Etta," I said.

"I know," Etta responded. "I'm going to get there first. Fire at will," she concluded.

She did and I did. Sticky fluids invaded my pubic hair. She rolled off me, clear and cloudy fluids flowed from her and onto the sheet. She was panting heavily. "I can't believe it," she managed to say.

"I can," I said.

Etta grabbed my hand and squeezed. "We're going to take a longer break," she said.

A few minutes later, she was resting on my chest and kissing me. "Jon," she said. "This is the beginning of a long relationship." She wrapped her hand around my penis and began to slide it up and down through the results of our fuck. Eventually, she began to have success. "I love youth," she said as she slid down and took my semi erection into her mouth.

She was unrelenting in bringing my erection back to life. When she was satisfied, she got on all fours next to me. "Get behind me and fuck me from behind," she ordered.

I entered her more easily this time. I slid all the way into her without interference and began pumping back and forth with her. We moved together as if we already knew what each other wanted and needed. I passed the three-minute mark and then the five-minute one. I felt as if I were king of the mountain owning everything beneath me. This wasn't going to end until I wanted it to.

Etta wasn't focused on time, just results. Her body began to shake and her vagina convulsed around my erection until I could hardly move. "Don't stop," Etta screamed. "I want more."

Her convulsions became more frequent and more intense until I couldn't tell where one ended and the next one began. Her body wearied and became limp but her convulsions continued until I couldn't contain my orgasm. I held her hips tightly against my body and emptied everything I had deep inside her.

She screamed and we collapsed on the bed. She curled up on her side with her arms around her knees and her body shook. I lay down behind her and held her in my arms. Maybe five minutes later, her eyes opened and her body relaxed. She took one of my hands and pressed it against her breast. "Jon," she said. "Do you have any idea what just happened?"

"If I had to guess you had an orgasm," I told her.

"Not just an orgasm, the mother of all orgasms. A near death experience," she explained. "It's only happened once before with me, the first time I had sex with Randy. You are now a member of a very exclusive group."

"I'm honored," I told her.

"It comes with responsibilities," Etta said.

"Oh, what are they?" I asked.

"You are obligated to fuck me often. As often as I want," she said.

"What about Randy?" I asked.

"He has the same obligations," Etta said.

"How does that work?" I asked.

"He travels a lot and works late more often than that," Etta informed me.

"Okay," I agreed. "What about the rest of the time?"

"I have him," she said. "Unless you have someone to share with him."

"I have a cousin at State," I thought out loud. "Maybe she'd be willing to stop by occasionally."

"Let's think about it," suggested Etta.

"What do we do now? Go back to work?" I asked.

"Work? I can hardly walk. You could bring up the rest of the boxes while I try to reassemble myself."

I pulled on my jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers and two hours later, I had all the boxes upstairs. Etta had replaced the sheet on the bed and we were sitting next to each other. Etta was still naked. She put her hand on my thigh. "What do you think?" she asked.

The third time was the best. Neither of us had the first-time hesitation and we knew exactly what each of us wanted. It was slow, erotic, and very emotional. Etta showed me more of her oral skills. She was good, very good. I came in her mouth. She was delighted and complemented me on the consistency and taste of my semen.

While we waited for my recovery, Etta taught me the finer points of oral examination of her woman parts. I spent twenty minutes up close and personal with her vagina, clitoris, and anal sphincter. I had fun. I used my lips, tongue, and fingers to explore every nook and cranny. Etta had fun too. Once I sucked her clitoris between my lips while stroking behind it with two fingers in her vagina. The second time was unexpected. I was working magic on her clitoris again when I slipped a finger into her ass.

When I was ready, we slid together again. Nothing unusual. Straight missionary position. It was my first experience of sex as love. It felt incredible. I felt responsible. I could never hurt this woman writhing beneath me. The mood shifted when she raised her legs next to me and held them up with her hands behind her knees. "Gentleman," she said. "Start your engine."

We raced to the finish line. I beat her by several seconds.

We lay alongside each other, stewing in each other juices. I was idly running a finger around her nipple and she was gently holding my spent penis in one hand. "What's next?" I asked.

"I think we should eat something," Etta said.

We passed through the bathroom. We peed and cleaned up with a hot washcloth. I put on my clothes again and looked at Etta. "How about you?" I asked.

"I'm fine," she said and headed for the stairs.

In the kitchen, we ordered another pizza. When the doorbell rang Etta told me to get it. "I'm not ready for company," she said.

We discussed the rest of the day over pizza and iced tea. "When do your parents get home?" she asked.

"Late tonight, I think," I told her.

"Time for us?" she asked.

"You think that's wise?" I asked.

"I don't think," she replied. "I just want to fuck you." She came over to me and sat on my lap. We kissed, flavored with tomato gravy and pepperoni. "I think we should fuck for the fun of it."

She stood up, pulled me to my feet, and began to work on removing my jeans. By the time she had me naked, I had another erection. She pushed me back onto the chair and straddled me. A minor adjustment and I slid inside her again.

"Isn't this fun?" she asked.

"Beats hell out of anything I've tried so far," I said.

By the time my parents got home, I was showered, dressed in clean shorts and t-shirt and watching a ball game on the television.

"Everything okay here?" asked my mom.

"Yeah," I told her. "Nothing exciting."

"What did you do while we were gone?" she asked. "And don't tell me you just vegged out in front of the television or watched porn on your computer."

"What?" I responded.

Mom laughed. "Just having fun with you," she said. "You really don't do that, do you?"

"No. I have a good imagination," I said.

"What?"

"Just having fun with you," I told her. "Anyway, I was busy helping our new neighbors move in. I was mowing the lawn and offered to help them. They accepted and that filled in most of Saturday and all of Sunday."

"Are they nice?" mom asked.

"Yeah, really nice," I told her. "Their names are Randall and Henrietta and I think they're in their early forties. I think we're going to have a good relationship with them."

Mom went into the kitchen. "You didn't eat much," she said.

"The neighbors bought me pizza for helping them," I told her.

I was mowing the lawn the following Saturday when Etta walked over to the side to talk to me. She was dressed conservatively in sync with the tone of the neighborhood. "I didn't recognize you with your clothes on," I said.

She laughed. "You're bad," she said. "I met your mom and dad during the week," she said. "They're really nice."

"I think so," I told her.

"Do you think ...?" She left the question hanging.

"I'll call my cousin," I told her.