New Neighbor
by Rob Warr
Chapter 1
Summer 1959
I watched the moving van with interest, wondering who our new neighbors would be. The Sanders, a nice old couple had moved away to a smaller house near their kids a few months ago, and the house had sat empty ever since. Then about two weeks ago a remodeling truck showed up and for a week or so they did some work, I guess getting it ready for the new owners.
Well, now here they are, and I couldn't wait to see who they were. Would they have kids my age, or would they be older with grownup kids and maybe grandkids?
Hopefully, I would soon find out.
The Van backed up into the two-car driveway and the driver got out carrying a clipboard, checking it as if to make sure he had the right address, then he walked around to the back of the truck where another guy joined him. They stood and talked for a minute, the first guy looked at his watch, then they walked to the front of the van and stared down the street for a moment.
A few minutes later a yellow and brown Ford Station Wagon started up the street, and the two guys came alive, while the first guy met the car at the curb, the other guy went to the back of the van and opened the big doors. I lost sight of him as he climbed up into the truck, so I turned my attention to the Station Wagon.
I could already tell there were occupants in both the front and the back of the car, and when the man climbed out (the dad I hoped) my heart leapt with joy. He looked about my dad's age and that meant he probably had kids, hopefully my age, or even a little younger or older. I wasn't picky, I was just lonely.
The man began talking to the guy from the van, and after some head nods he waved to the others in the car and doors began to open. First out was the mom, a pretty, slender lady with auburn hair and green eyes. She was wearing slacks, a silk blouse, and white sandals. Next, on the dad's side of the car a girl of about 8 or 9 emerged, a spitting image of her mom, and even though I'm not that keen on girls, I thought she was cute. Her body was slim and almost boyish looking which gave her some appeal to me, since I really liked boys.
But as they say, they were saving the best for last, and finally the other back door opened and out stepped the cutest boy I have ever laid eyes on. I estimated his age to be somewhere around 13, plus or minus a year, and apparently the boy took more after his dad than his mom. His hair was dark brown, his eyes blue, and his skin so flawless I doubted even with a magnifying glass I could fine even one freckle. And, I'll tell you the truth, I wouldn't have minded trying. His body was perfection, and even dressed as he was, in cutoff denim shorts and a striped tee, I could tell he was fit and athletic. That, along with his angelic looks had my heart pitter-patting in my chest from the first moment I laid eyes on him.
Should I go over now and introduce myself? I wondered, or give them time to get settled in? Then I had a wonderful idea. They'd be helping the movers place their stuff, and perhaps they could use the help of a strong 16-year-old teenage boy, one just like me.
While I was making up my mind I watched as the boy ambled up the driveway, joining his parents and sister while the mover talked to them. I assumed they were laying out the game plan, and I decided to wait a while longer to let them get that out of the way. Then I had another wonderful idea. They'd be hot and thirsty after their drive and a nice cold glass of lemonade would probably be much appreciated about right now.
I rushed into the house and checked the fridge, and sure enough, good old mom had made a fresh pitcher of her famous, hand-squeezed lemonade for me to enjoy while she and dad were at work. Glassware would be inappropriate for this occasion so I dug around in the pantry till I found some paper cups left over from my birthday party, stacked seven together and grabbed the pitcher, which luckily was Tupperware and unbreakable.
I was grinning like a fool at my cleverness, but as I started out the door I began to have some doubts. What if they thought I was just some goofy teenage boy barging in on their family and slowing them down? Or worse yet, figure out it was their son I was interested in and make sure I never got within ten feet of him again?
But in the end I decided that was silly thinking, that I was just being a good neighbor, and even though I was shaking a little I managed to march up the drive and to my fate, whatever it might be.
The group was apparently inside when I arrived in the driveway at the back of the truck, but moments later the two guys from the van emerged, then the dad, mom, sister, and finally...dream boy.
"Uh, hi," I said nervously, "I'm Joey, I um...live next door. I saw you guys moving in and I thought maybe you'd like some lemonade. My mom makes the best lemonade, and I, ummm, brought some cups..."
"Well, how thoughtful," the mom said, "see," she said to her family, "I told you this was a nice neighborhood. We've only been here thirty minutes and we've already made a friend."
I relaxed some and grinned, and with the mom's (Mrs. Thompson, Mary) help I poured cups of delicious lemonade and passed them out. Introductions were made, Father: Joseph (Joe) Thompson, 9-year-old daughter, Ruth or Ruthie, and again, saving the best for last, 13-year-old Simon. Simon, what a perfect name, I thought as I handed him his cup of lemonade, perhaps lingering longer than necessary, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to be giving me the same kind of attention I was giving him, as if he could sense my interest and was encouraging it.
I learned among other things that they were from Kansas, that Mr. Thompson was the new manager of a local bank, and that Simon had been going to a private school up until the move, but would most likely be attending public school in the fall.
"Are the schools nearby decent?" Mrs. Thompson asked.
"Yes, ma'am, Gardner Middle School is less than a mile from here and I went there for three years. I never had a bit of trouble, and the teachers are pretty nice and helpful. The school is less than five years old and even has air conditioning, which my elementary school didn't."
"We'll have to check it out. Simon, what do you think?" his dad said.
"I think I'd like to talk to Joey some more about it, maybe later. If that's okay," he said giving me a mischievous smile.
I wondered what that was all about, who was perving on who here?
"That would be cool," I agreed, "maybe we could walk down there sometime and I could show you the neighborhood. There's a park right across from the school, and a pond with ducks and geese and some nice trails."
"That sounds wonderful. You two can work that out, but first we need to get this truck emptied and at least get our beds assembled," Mrs. Thompson reminded us.
"I'd be happy to help in any way I can," I offered.
"Why thank you, Joey. Why don't you stick with Simon and help him? The beds are coming off next..."
So, that's how we met, and even though it was hard work, I really enjoyed helping Simon that day. We hit it off right away, laughing and talking about stuff, and when I stuck myself with a screwdriver while trying to assemble his headboard, he insisted on bandaging my wound with the first aid kit they kept in the car.
It felt nice having him hold my hand and pamper me and I was disappointed when he'd finished. I was tempted to hurt myself again, but that might have been too obvious, so I just settled for getting as close to him as often as possible and he not only didn't seem to mind, he seemed to be encouraging it.
We worked for a couple hours unloading and staging stuff, but eventually the truck was empty and the guys pulled away. Mr. Thompson then backed the station wagon up into the drive and we unloaded clothes and fragile items from the back and staged those as well.
I have to admit, they had everything well organized and labeled, which made it easy to know what went where, and now all they had to do was unpack it and put it away and I didn't envy them that task one bit. I'd lived in my house all my life and moving didn't look like all that much fun. Oh sure, someday I'd go off to college, but that wouldn't be like moving a whole houseful of stuff. In fact, I only planned on taking as much as necessary. The rest could remain with my parents so I could enjoy them when I visited.
Eventually the Thompson's said we'd done enough for one day, and though they offered to pay me for my help, I acted horrified and assured them I expected no pay, that just getting to know them was payment enough. Well, what can I say? moms love me, and though some dads may see right through me, Mr. Thompson seemed to take me at my word as well.
I finally departed, and to my joy, Simon insisted on walking me home.
"So, Simon said once we were out the door, "when can I get the tour of the neighborhood?"
"How's tomorrow, too soon?"
"As long as I get my stuff put away by then," Simon said giving me a little smile, "Of course it would go faster if I had someone big and strong to help."
I laughed, "Like a teenage boy, one named Joey?"
"Well, names aren't important, but the age sounds right," he said giving me a wink that turned my insides to Jell-O. Was he flirting with me?
"What time shall I be here, sir?" I said saluting.
"I'm gonna sleep late, so...how about ten...a.m.?"
"Perfect, I'm never up before then," I laughed, "at least not in the summer."
"Okay then. Are your folks home?" he said once we'd reached my door.
"Nah, not for a couple hours, why, want to come in?" I teased.
"I'd love to, but I really need to get back," he said frowning, "but I'd love to see your room sometime."
See my room? I thought, this boy was definitely not your usual run of the mill 13-year-old boy. Again, I began to wonder, who's stalking who? Or is it whom?
"Well, I'll be sure to clean it up then, just in case," I laughed.
"Yeah, air it out, too," he laughed, then he gave me another wink.
"Yeah, it does get kind of funky in there. My mom makes me clean it and do my own laundry and she never goes in there," I laughed.
"Women, they just don't understand us boys, do they?"
"My mom sure doesn't, but your mom seems pretty cool."
"She is, so's dad, but they're both clueless to some stuff."
"Well, that's just how parents are. So...should you go back now, or what?"
"Huh, oh yeah. Hey, we forgot your pitcher. I have an idea. I'll go back to get it and ask if I can come over for a while. We're going out to dinner later, but we still have plenty of time."
"Oh, well...sure, I'll just head inside and pick up my room a bit, just in case," I chuckled.
"Don't matter, but I'll see ya in a little while. Be right back," he said, then he was off like a saber jet.
My room really wasn't that bad, though. I'm not a neat freak but I'm not a pig either. So, after picking up some dirty clothes and placing them in my hamper and tossing my cum rags in on top of them, I tidied up the rest of the room and made my bed, just for show. My bed philosophy, however, is: why make it up when you're just gonna mess it up again that night?
I heard the doorbell chime and I was downstairs and at the door in a flash. There stood Simon, empty pitcher in hand and a big smile on his face.
"I have thirty minutes," he announced.
I grabbed the pitcher, hurried to the kitchen with it, then led Simon up the stairs and down the hall to my room. I didn't close the door, after all, my folks wouldn't be home for a while, and anyway, I didn't know what Simon had in mind, however, I was open to just about anything.
"I had an older friend back in Kansas," Simon said looking around, stopping here to look at a model airplane, there, to see what books I had.
"Oh yeah, was he my age?"
"Almost, he was 15. His name was Eddy. He taught me some cool stuff," he added sounding as if he were thinking about those things.
"I get along well with younger kids, always have," I offered, "that's why I was excited to see you when you climbed out of the wagon. By the way, nice car."
"Excited?" Simon said turning to grin at me, "in what way?" he asked, and I swear he was looking at my crotch.
"You know, happy to see that my new neighbors weren't just some old folks or something," I said blushing.
"Ah, okay. Can we sit on your bed?" he said doing so before I could answer.
In answer to his question I just sat beside him and waited for him to lead me wherever he was going to lead me. For once I was totally out of my league and had no clue what to do next.
"Why are you so nervous?" Simon asked as he pulled one leg up and turned so he was now facing me.
"I'm not," I lied, "but if I was, it might be cause you're different than most boys your age."
"Hmm, yeah, I am...different, but I think you like that, don't you?"
"So far," I admitted, "but I'm a little confused."
"You'll figure me out," he said grinning again, "it was that way with Eddy, too. It took him a while to figure me out, then once he saw that I was cool, we had a lot of fun."
"Yeah, like...umm, what kind of fun, like games and stuff?"
"Yeah, games...and stuff," Simon said smiling lewdly, "fun games...and stuff."
I gulped, I was pretty sure the kind of games and stuff he was talking about weren't your usual school boy activities, but I was too chicken-shit to delve any deeper into this subject.
"I'm really tired," Simon said then, "mind if I lay down?"
"Whaa...umm, course not. That's fine," I said, glad I'd made up the bed for once. At least he wouldn't be exposed to my smelly sheets.
"Mmm...your bed is comfy. Come on, lay down with me, we can still talk," he purred.
"Well, sure," I said stretching out beside him, and suddenly I caught a whiff of something that caused my pecker to go from limp to stiff in a heartbeat. I knew in an instant what that scent was, I'd smelled it before from a dozen sources, but every boy's scent was unique, and so it was with Simon's.
I was intoxicated by his aroma, and also terrified that he would glance over and see the tent in my jean shorts and freak out. Then I laughed to myself. Hell, he wasn't about to freak out, he was causing this on purpose. He was in charge and he knew it, liked it, and would no doubt be proud to know he'd had such an effect on me.
"Nice," Simon said softly.
For a moment I contemplated ignoring him, but in the end I decided a thank you was more appropriate.
"Thanks, you know how it is with us guys..."
"Yeah," Simon chuckled, "don't mean anything, right?" he asked, sounding unsure for the first time since I'd met him.
"Well, sometimes it does, mean something, but I don't think that's necessarily bad, do you?"
"Oh, no, not at all," he said, perking up again, "I think when you like someone...like a friend, or whatever, it's just fine, don't you?"
"Very fine," I chuckled.
"Do you have a friend like that?"
"I'm not sure," I said trying to sound mysterious, "maybe."
"Yeah, me too," he said quietly.
Then, as if nothing unusual had taken place, and as if we'd never hinted at boners and intimacy and sexy friends, we began to talk about regular stuff and the tension was broken. We talked about school and Simon admitted he was a bit nervous about that, but I assured him I'd help him anyway I could, and even put the word out that if anyone messed with him they'd have me to answer to.
"You'd do that?" he said in awe, "you just met me."
"Yeah, so? I know a cool dude when I meet one, and you're a cool dude. We're friends, okay?"
"Yeah, very okay," he said grinning, "Well, I really should go. I don't want mom and dad to think you're a bad influence," he chuckled.
"What if I am?" I teased.
"I think I can live with that, if you can live with me being a bad influence, too."
"How bad could you be?" I laughed.
"You'll find out," he promised as he rolled onto me and began wrestling around.
He caught me off guard for a moment, but I could have easily thrown him off, however, I liked his warm solid body and smooth skin against me and instead I pulled him into me and gave him a bear hug. Not hard enough to hurt him, but not soft enough to seem affectionate, even though it sort of was.
"Uggh, you're killing me," he squealed.
"That will teach you to ambush me," I laughed as I finally released him, then jumping up I helped him up from the bed, "Go home, bad boy, and I'll see you tomorrow."
"I'll get you...later," he growled.
"Promises, promises," I said grinning.
"Walk me to the door."
"Of course, I wouldn't trust you not to steal some of our valuables on the way out," I teased.
"I'm not a thief, but I am a bad boy," he smirked.
"Well, I know what to do with bad boys," I teased back, "spank them."
"Don't threaten me with a good time," Simon laughed, and I thought it was pretty funny too.
At the door, we lingered a bit. Obviously things had been said, emotions had been stirred up, and there was something there just below the surface that we needed to explore further. Whether it was what I hoped it was, only time would tell. But...I felt like we'd gotten off to a good start and I was eager to see how things progressed.
I stood on the step as he headed down the sidewalk, then with one last wave he disappeared behind his family's station wagon and I went back inside. I had a lot to think about, and I was sure he did, too.
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