I’ve always been fascinated with my 48 year old neighbor Lindsey for as long as I can remember.
She’s someone who prides herself on being the pillar of the community. In the middle-class suburban neighborhood where we live, she has always been actively involved in PTA meetings, charity events, and other community programs. She’s prim and proper in ever since of the word, and is always going out of her way to present herself in only the most positive light.
We’ve always been close, and her career as an English teacher has allowed us to become even closer, as we were able to spend much of our summers and winters together. And in time, that eventually lead to something more…
‘Finally!’ I thought to myself. I had just finished my last final exam for the college semester and it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. And as it just so happened, a small snow storm had rolled in later that morning, meaning that I would be stuck at home for the rest of the day. My dad was out of town on an important business trip, so I went to my neighbor’s house. We would have plenty of time together once again since both of our winter vacations had already begun.
I arrived to the sight of Lindsey on the computer next to the lit fireplace in the living room. She sat on the floor using her laptop, which rested on a table. She looked dignified and elegant the way her long brown hair was neatly tied in a ponytail with her glasses on. She was barefoot, still wearing her silk pajamas, and had a hot cup of coffee right next to her.
“Well hello there,” she said, turning her attention towards me.
“Yeah. I only had one final this morning, and it’s not exactly easy to get around with all that snow outside,” I replied.
“Oh, you’re right. You’ll have to excuse me for not realizing the sudden snow fall; my mind is somewhere else at the moment.”
“So what are you up to?” I asked. “You look like you’ve got a nice set up over there.”
“I’m just finishing up some work,” she said, almost stammering at her words over such a simple question, as if she was hiding something.
“I’ve never seen a school teacher look so elegant and relaxed doing school work,” I replied jokingly.
She closed the top of her computer, stood up, and walked towards me.
“By the way,” she said. “I’ve already booked a flight for my best friend to fly in next week for the holidays.”
“That sounds great. I miss having her around. She’s really nice.”
A warm-hearted smile appeared on her face. “I’m glad you think so because she’ll be sleeping over with us for Christmas and New Year’s. This is really shaping up to be a fun holiday season for me.”
Lindsey had gone to get ready for bed. I turned off all the lights in the house and was heading home when I noticed her computer was left unattended in her bedroom. Her door was slightly open, and I could hear her in the closed bathroom running the water faucet. My curiosity got the better of me as I saw her word processor open and decided to check it out for a moment.
My eyes roamed the screen as fast as I could to get an idea of what she was writing about, seeing words such as ‘cock’, ‘cunt’, and ‘sex’. The realization of what I was reading hit me like a ton of bricks; Lindsey was writing a porn story!
I felt shocked and confused. I couldn’t believe that my conservative and respectable neighbor would ever write such a thing, or even think about anything like that in the first place.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I heard a voice say behind me.
When I quickly turned my body around, there was Lindsey, with a look of utter horror on her face as she saw that I had discovered her secret hobby.
“I was just…”
“I owe you an explanation for this,” she said while trying her best to hold a brave face.
“You don’t owe me anything. I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have looked through your personal stuff,” I replied.
“It’s okay,” she sighed. “I need to. We might as well talk about it now and get this over with. Let’s go downstairs and I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”
She slipped on a robe over her pajamas and signaled for me to follow her.
I sat awkwardly by the kitchen counter watching her boil a small pot of milk while adding the chocolate mixture. She then poured the hot chocolate in two mugs and added marshmallows on top.
“Here, drink up,” she said as she handed me a mug.
“I haven’t had hot chocolate with marshmallows in a very long time,” I happily pointed out.
She smiled, “I know. That’s why I picked it up from the store the other day. But let’s get to the point; I’m sure you must be surprised by what you saw on my computer.”
“Well, it’s not exactly common to find you writing a story about fucking like that”
“I have a fantasy,” she said bluntly, with a straight face. “There, I said it. You can stop wondering what that was all about now.”
She took a deep breath. “Yes. We all have fantasies don’t we? You’re old enough to understand that. I’ll admit that mine is just…different…different than most peoples.”
I was immediately taken aback by my prudish neighbor’s shocking admission. Hearing her say that she enjoyed fantasizing was more surprising than taking a glimpse of what she wrote. She held a brave face, but it was clear that she had to muster up all the courage she could to do so, and that deep down she was embarrassed over this.
“It’s actually a lot more common than you think,” I told her to make her feel better, but not admitting that I secretly had the same fantasy about her. “I mean, I definitely understand the appeal when you have two people in a taboo relationship together. You know, the whole ‘forbidden’ thing.”
“Well, I was hoping to avoid the details, but yes, that’s the part that gets me. I’ve always been drawn to romance and the thought of two people having to overcome barriers to be with each other. And what embodies that more than mature women and younger men having sex? That’s my intrigue with it, so please don’t think of me as a perverted old lady, or some sexual deviant, or anything weird like that. I’m just a woman with feelings like anyone else.”
“I would never think such a thing about you. You’re the smartest and classiest woman I’ve ever met.”
“Thank you for saying that…and for making this easy on me,” she replied with a smile. “I’m glad you’re so open about this.”
“Of course. I try to be open about a lot of things.”
Her eyebrows rose, “Thanks again. You’ll understand one day when you get married.”
“That makes perfect sense. So do you think I could read some of your stories?”
“Absolutely not,” she firmly stated. “It’s private and it wasn’t meant for you. Look, us talking about this is one thing, but actually letting you read what I wrote is something else. So let’s just enjoy our drinks and call it night.”