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Author Topic: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter  (Read 5307 times)

Offline Braceface2015

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Story - My Neighbour's Daughter
« on: 09. July 2024, 00:51:45 AM »
The inspiration for this story came from a dream.

I followed Sparky's way of writing down the ideas I had and working from there. I had twelve lines of text when I was done.

Some of the story is true, some is wishful thinking and some is purely fantasy. It's true the kitchen window faces the neighbour's bedroom window and I can see the backyard from my kitchen window. There was a trampoline in the backyard for a couple of years and I did drive long-haul for about ten years. I did have braces for several years and smiled to show my braces, and I do drive an old pickup truck. How much of the rest of the story is true is for you to decide.

One other thing. I do grow flowers and they bloom until the snow falls.

Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter
« Reply #1 on: 09. July 2024, 00:53:30 AM »
My Neighbours Daughter

By Silversmiles64


Part One - Prologue


The place next to us sold again; this time, a middle-aged divorced mother and her young daughter moved in. It seemed as if the place sold every couple of years and new people moved in. I was always friendly with the new people but didn't really try to get to know them, figuring they would be moving out in the not-too-distant future.

I drove long-haul and was gone for up to a week at a time, and when I was home, I had my flower gardens to take care of and grass to cut. It didn't take me long to notice the girl next door and her friends playing in the backyard. The kitchen window above the sink looked out over the backyard of the place next door and I could watch them playing when I washed the dishes. The kitchen window was also directly in line with one of the neighbour's bedroom windows. When the area was developed, the company selling the lots bought two and three-bedroom prebuilt units and stuck them on the lots without regard to where the windows and doors were located.

Maintaining my yard didn't take all my free time, and the deck in my backyard became my favourite place to relax. I could sit on the deck and watch the birds, butterflies and bees enjoying my flowers, and if I sat still for long enough, the hummingbirds would come to the edge of the deck.

If I turned my chair to the side, I could see over the fence and watch the neighbour's daughter and her friends playing in the backyard. Things got more interesting when they set up a trampoline and I got to watch them jumping up and down. As the daughter got older, I saw more boys begin to show up, and a bit less of the daughter as she started dating. The trampoline disappeared and lawn furniture replaced it. When I sat on the deck, I always took something with me to make it look as if I wasn't spending much of my time watching the teenagers next door.

My flower gardens had a wide variety of flowers and they bloomed from early spring until late fall when the snow started to fall. If the neighbour's daughter came over to talk while I was working in the front yard, I would cut a single flower from whatever was blooming and give it to her. She wasn't pretty and thin like most of her friends, and she always wore clothes one size too big. It took her a while to start coming to talk to me, and once she became comfortable around me, she began to smile more, especially when I gave her a flower. Even when she smiled, she kept her lips over her teeth most of the time and the infrequent times I did see her teeth made it evident why.

I probably spent more time looking at her mouth than I should have, but I couldn't help myself. Female mouths had fascinated me since my early teens when a friend my mother went to school with came to visit us. It had been a while since she had visited us and she had looked considerably different than the last time I saw her. She'd had surgery to repair the damage she had to her jaws as the result of an accident at work, and the surgeon had used metal bands around her teeth to provide sturdy support while her jaws were wired shut.

I sat in the corner, listening while she told my mother about what happened, watching her braces as they sparkled. She smiled a lot and didn’t seem to mind everyone seeing her braces. Even eating didn’t bother her. She just sipped water frequently to rinse the food from her teeth and had an elegant way of dislodging the stubborn pieces with her tongue.

After we ate, her husband took me aside and explained it was okay to watch women with braces, but not to stare. If they noticed me looking, I should smile at them before looking away and not try to pretend I wasn’t watching them. Some women actually liked it when you paid attention to them. He also told me his wife could have switched to brackets after her jaws were unwired, but she asked the orthodontist to leave them on because she liked how her husband looked at her with the bands on her teeth.

I did the same with my neighbour's daughter, smiling at her and letting my braces show when she came to talk to me. She got honest answers when she asked me questions, and I treated her like she was older than she was. Having her come and talk to me became one of my favourite times when I was between trips.

She always put the flower in a vase and set it on her bedroom window where I could see it. Sometimes she had the curtains open and I could see her doing her homework at her desk. If she looked up and saw me watching her while I was doing the dishes, I smiled at her before looking down at the sink. Sometimes I pictured her smiling back at me with braces on her teeth to fix the misalignments.

The day she came to tell me she was moving out on her own was a sad day for me. I picked her a bouquet of flowers for the first time and told her they were so she would remember me.

Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter
« Reply #2 on: 09. July 2024, 17:18:32 PM »
Part Two - Grocery Shopping

I head into town with my grocery list on my tablet just the way I usually do each week. The list isn't particularly long and I stop at the garbage dump on my way. Sometimes I am there on a day when someone dropped off something I can use in my garden or greenhouse such as old hoses or large plant pots to start plants in. My old truck is great for hauling things in and its rust spots and dents give it character and is recognizable when I drive it.

I stop by the hardware store to see if they have any deals on plants to add to my garden and the electronics store for some new headphones. While I'm at the mall, I renew my library card and browse through a few stores before walking across the parking lot to the grocery store.

It's easy to take notice of the girl who has been following me for a while. Her black jeans were distressed when she bought them and they are even more distressed now. The skin-to-cloth ratio is about even and they look as if they are one size too small on her generous hips and nicely rounded ass, which I catch glimpses of as she pretends to be window shopping. From a distance, it doesn't look as if there is anything underneath her jeans. Her black t-shirt is thin and practically see-through, and I can almost see the bra on her very modest chest, and I'm guessing she is barely a B-cup.

What really draws my attention is the colour of her hair. It's an eye-catching coppery-red which I find particularly appealing, especially because she has her almost waist-length hair in pigtails and draped over her chest partially hiding her breasts. She checks off so many boxes on my 'appealing women' list.

I try not to make it too obvious I am checking her out, and I know for sure she is following me when she enters the grocery store while I am getting a shopping cart. With my tablet in front of me, I have a good reason for pretending to be looking around for items as I follow her around the store. My cart slowly fills up as we pass items on my shopping list, but nowhere near as fast as it usually does. Every so often, she glances over her shoulder or looks at the reflection in a glass-fronted display case, and I see her smile.

It's obvious we are both playing the same game when we pass by the dairy section for the third time and she pauses long enough to let me pass by her, and I see her smile again. This time I'm close enough to catch a glimpse of her teeth reflecting in the glass door of the milk section. It might just be a glimmer from the lights overhead, but I think I catch a sparkle from her mouth. She definitely has my attention now.

I turn into the next aisle, which is pet food for an animal I don't have, and pause to check my list. Everything on my list is in my cart and some things not on my list have made their way into my cart too. She smiles as she passes me and this time it isn't a reflection in the glass that I catch a glimpse of, it is definitely a sparkle from her teeth, but it's obvious to me she is trying to hide her teeth as much as possible. I've seen that same smile before, but I can't remember where.

As much as I am enjoying the game of following her around the store, the game has to end sometime. She passes by the registers as I unload my cart onto the belt and disappears through the doors, but not before she smiles one more time. How she moves and smiles looks familiar, but I can't figure out where I know her from.

As I exit the store, I see her sitting on a bench watching people leave, and as I walk out, she stands up and walks toward me. I guess the puzzled look on my face tells her enough. Her closed-mouth smile fades a bit as she says, "You don't recognize me, do you? Here's a hint, you have a nice flower garden." When I still looked puzzled, her smile returns as she adds, "I guess I do look very different from how I did the last time you saw me. Do you have time to sit down and talk?" When I nod, her smile gets bigger, but she still is keeping her teeth hidden and I can tell she is doing it by design, not because she is ashamed of how her teeth look. "Would you let me buy you something to drink? I know of a place that makes sun tea almost as good as you did." This second clue narrows down the possibilities of who she is quite a bit, but it is still not enough.

Everything in my cart can sit in my truck for quite a while before being put away. I smile and my mouth reacts before my brain has a chance to engage fully as I say, "It's been a long time since I had such an appealing offer from such a beautiful young woman. I haven't even had any from the older ladies lately. Let me put my groceries in my truck and I'll take you up on your offer, on one condition. You have to let me pay."

Her smile gets bigger and she struggles to keep her teeth hidden from me, though I do see just the very tips of her front teeth. "It's a deal." As soon as she sees what direction I am heading, she moves ahead of me and I get a spectacular view of her generous ass as it sways. There is no fat on it, just muscle, and the movements her ass is making come from her muscles as she walks. From time to time, she looks over her shoulder to make sure I am still behind her, and each time she does and sees where I am looking, the motion her ass is making increases slightly.

My truck comes into view and she squeals, "You still have that old truck. It is so much like you, old and battered, and still going strong." She looks over her shoulder. "I like old things. They have character and stand out from all the new things. They make me feel comfortable." I feel as if the last comment is directed right at me. Everyone in the neighbourhood knows my truck, so her latest clue doesn't help me identify her.

She doesn't say anything as she hands me things from my cart to put in the back seat of my truck. Her help speeds things up a bit, and getting a close-up look of the front of her makes the time fly. "Okay, mystery girl, where to next?"

She really struggles to keep her teeth hidden as she smiles. "The restaurant isn't far,  so we can walk there. Would it seem creepy if I asked to hold your hand? I always wanted to do it but never was brave enough to ask." Rather than answer, I take her hand and she leads me across the street. It doesn't take us long to get to the restaurant and I wish it had taken longer. It feels nice to have her hand in mine.

The big glass jars lining the front window made the restaurant stand out from the places in the neighbourhood. Each jar has teabags and slices of lemon or lime floating in it, and the sun does the rest. They use white cane sugar in some and brown cane sugar in others, and it is always a mystery which tea they will serve you. "Why don't you get us a table outside while I get us a couple of glasses."

Her closed-mouth smile is driving me crazy. "Why don't you get a pitcher instead? We'll probably be here a while."

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Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter
« Reply #3 on: 10. July 2024, 17:48:17 PM »
Chapter 3 – Sun Tea

I return to find her sitting underneath an umbrella on the sunny side of the table. "Okay, mystery girl, who are you?"

There is something familiar about the teeth in her smile, and it isn't the metal bands around them. Things begin to come together in my mind, but not enough to tell me who she is. She leans back slightly into the sun, and her t-shirt becomes almost transparent as the sun shines on it just right. "I'm not going to tell you just yet. I've always liked how you looked at me when I was growing up. You didn't seem to see me as the fat kid." It's another clue to narrow down the possibilities. She seems to change topics. "I remember when you had braces and everything you said about them. I'm studying to be an orthodontist's assistant because of you. We can get free treatment as part of the course if we agree to become patients for the other students to work on. When I found out I could get bands instead of brackets, I went for it. The things you said about braces being as expensive as jewelry and showing them off the way I would jewelry stuck with me. You always had coloured ligatures and I am doing the same thing." The pink ligatures on her braces match her lipstick, which ticks off another box on my 'appealing women' list. "I like how you are looking at me now. It gives me a very pleasant tingly feeling."

She moves back into the shade as she takes a drink of her tea, and her t-shirt stretches against her chest as she raises her arm. She leans forward more as she says, “I’m going to get to have an expander installed even though they aren’t going to use it to widen my jaw, and I get to try a Herbst appliance after that. I already have the tubes for the expander on the inside side of the bands, see,” and she opens her mouth wide to show me. The way she is leaning forward does very interesting things to her t-shirt, stretching it snuggly over her petite chest and her underwired bra.

She gives me plenty of time to look at more than just her teeth and braces before she leans back and takes another mouthful of tea. “I still think your tea was better. You always used oranges and honey in yours.” Another piece of the puzzle of who she is slips into place. I didn’t let many people into my backyard when I was home, and only someone who had seen my backyard yard would know about the jug of sun tea brewing on my deck.

I smile and say, “I’m not sure, but I think you're the girl from next door.”

She laughs and her laughter confirms my guess. Her laugh is one I would recognize anywhere and the one I was so fond of hearing when she lived next door. “It took you long enough, old man. I thought you might have become senile.” Being called old by her makes me feel good and brings back memories of us talking when we were both a bit younger. "You haven't changed much since I moved out on my own. You're still the same old man who used to sit on his deck and watch us playing. When new friends came over, they used to tell me you were watching us over the fence. I always told them, 'So what? I don't mind. He's a friendly old guy. Just smile at him and wave. He might even give you a flower from his garden if you ask him for one.' They never did ask, but some of the girls did come over so they could wear clothes they couldn't get away with wearing at home."

I smile as I remember what some of the girls wore. Definitely not age-appropriate but nice to look at. "You never did, and I wish you had, even just a couple of times if this is how you looked back then. You never wore anything remotely tight or revealing in any way."

She blushes beautifully, and says, "I didn't look like this when I was young. I was a chubby kid and didn't feel good about myself. My feelings changed when I got to know you. I never felt ugly when I was around you. My life changed when you started giving me flowers. I did start to dress differently, you just didn't get to see it back then." She leans back so the sun is shining on her again and takes another drink of tea. "Now you do."

My eyes move back and forth between her sparkly metal smile and her body, and finally settle on her smile. "I wish you had smiled more when you lived beside me. You have a beautiful smile now, and it would have been just as beautiful to me back then, just in a different way."

Her blush deepens and her smile gets bigger. "I have a confession to make. You weren't the only one watching your neighbour. I used to peek through my curtains and watch you doing the dishes. I could see your braces sparkling and I wished I had the same kind of smile so I could smile at you the same way. Now I do and I can. There was one other thing I wanted to do but was never brave enough to try." The front of her t-shirt deforms, showing her lace bra is unpadded. "I wanted to 'accidentally' leave my curtains slightly open so you could see the new things I was wearing."

We talk until the jug is empty and she tells me all about the course she is taking. I thought I knew a lot about orthodontics, but I learn just how inaccurate some of my knowledge is. She uses her mouth and braces to show me what she is talking about. By the time we are finished the tea, she is sitting beside me. I offer to buy us something to eat, but she has a better idea.

"Why don't you give me a ride to my mother's place and we can make a salad from the vegetables in your garden. My friends are always amazed by the salads you taught me how to make. You never said anything about my weight, instead, you taught me how to eat differently. The body I have now is because of you."

Once again, my mouth gets ahead of my brain. "It is a mighty nice body in my opinion. How about you make the salad while I watch you. It will be just like it used to be. This time I won't have to imagine what you would look like with braces." I look a little sheepish and say, "I'm not as young as I used to be. I'm going to have to make a pit stop before we leave."

She giggles the way she used to and says, "It will give me a chance to use the little girl's room too."

My mouth is out of control. I slowly look at her from her toes to her braced smile. "You're not so little anymore."

She assumes a clearly fake hurt expression. "I am not as chubby as I used to be. I've worked hard to look the way I do now."

I don't say anything, just look up and down her body a few times until she smiles again, before I head to the bathroom. She's waiting for me when I come out and I can tell she's touched up her makeup. She doesn't ask me to take her hand, she just links her fingers with mine as we walk back to my truck. Before we get to it, she asks, "Can I sit beside you on the drive?"

I look at her. "You know my truck has a stick?"

She giggles again. "I know. You never locked your truck when you were gone and I used to sit in it and pretend I was riding with you on your trip. I was kind of sad when you stopped driving and I never had a chance to sit in your big truck."

I hold the door open for her to get in and she waits until I am behind the wheel to slide closer to me. The thin denim of her jeans stretches and a couple of small gaps in the fabric spread as she bends her leg to get it around the stickshift in my truck and I find out she is wearing a black lace thong underneath her jeans. Traffic is light through town, and the first few times my arm brushes against her as I shift gears, I apologize. When it keeps happening, it is apparent she is making it happen. I glance at her a few times while we are waiting for the signals to change, and each time, she has a big metal grin on her face.

Once we are on the highway and I don't have to shift anymore, she takes my hand from the stick and places it on the inside of her leg. All of the time spent behind the wheel of my big-rig benefits me as my body takes over the driving and my mind contemplates what it would have been like to have her with me on the road. All I can picture is how she would look as she is now, sitting in the passenger seat of my big-rig, with her feet on the dash, smiling at me.

0/440

Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter
« Reply #4 on: 12. July 2024, 05:02:55 AM »
Chapter 4 – His Deck

My mind returns to where I am as we pull into my driveway and she turns off the ignition for me. She rubs my hand against her upper thigh with her other hand and smiles. "Thank you for finally giving me a ride in your truck. You just fulfilled one of my fantasies." She waits until I slide out my side of the truck and bends her other leg to get it around the stickshift to slide out beside me, and the thin fabric of her jeans stretches again. "I hope you have plenty of sun tea brewed, it's been far too long since I had a glass of it."

I bring her an empty ice cream pail to use to pick the salad and a tray of ice cubes for the tea. It’s clear she has been watching me for a long time, because she has a couple of glasses from above the outside sink sitting on the table and a small pitcher of tea waiting. She takes the pail and moves around my garden picking vegetables for the salad, bending over more than she needs to, sometimes facing me and sometimes with her cute ass in my direction, smiling the entire time. Her salad-making skills have improved since I taught her how to make them and what she places in front of me surpasses what I normally do.

"Dig in old man, you're about to fulfill another of my fantasies. I get to have you watch me eat a salad with me in braces." She waits until I start eating to start on hers. She doesn't do anything even remotely suggestive, she just sits across from me, occasionally using her tongue or finger to dislodge a stubborn piece of salad. The deformations on the front of her t-shirt are an indication she is enjoying the salad far more than she is letting on. She plays with my phone as she's eating, sometimes just tapping the screen, other times holding it up and pointing it at me. I'm too distracted to care and she's old enough to see anything that might be on my phone, even though she's less than half my age. All the interesting stuff is password-protected on the computer in my bedroom and I use my tablet and laptop for the stories I write.

She looks at her mom's place again and says, "It doesn't look like my mom's home right now. Give me five minutes to check and I'll help you with the dishes." I watch her ass twitch as she walks through my garden to the gate and around to her yard with her mischievous braced smile.

When she hasn't returned in five minutes, I take the dirty things to the kitchen and start washing them. Some habits never change and I glance at the bedroom window across from me. On the window sill is a freshly cut flower from my garden in a vase and the curtains are partially open. Standing with her back to me, looking into a full-length mirror, is the neighbour's daughter. I watch as she changes into a tight white halter top and skin-tight white shorts, then does the magic trick women seem to learn in their teens of removing their bra without taking their shirts off.

My last view of her is as she waves at me with her black lace bra in her hand and her other hand pointing to my window before she pulls the curtains closed.

She’s left my phone on the window ledge above the sink with her smiling face on my login screen. I rub my finger over her braces to unlock it and a note is waiting for me on the screen. “Happy birthday, old man. I hope I’ve ticked off a few items on your bucket list. Give me a call and we can talk about knocking a few more off your list, and maybe we can knock a few more off my bucket list too. My number is in your contact list.”


The End... for now.


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Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter
« Reply #5 on: 17. July 2024, 23:44:03 PM »
I couldn't leave the story alone.


My Neighbours Daughter - 5

I wait over a week before I text her, and it is just a simple message, "Thank you for helping with the dishes."

Like most young people, she seems to have her phone implanted in her hand. Minutes after I send the text, she replies with a photo of her smiling face instead of an emoji. Her smile has changed a bit. There is more sparkle showing on the sides and the pistons of her new Herbst are visible. I want to see her new hardware in person, so I text back, "I would like to buy you a meal. Will you let me?"

Her reply is another smiley face with a thumbs up, again her face instead of an emoji, followed by, "Where and when?"

I'm grinning as I reply, "Where would you like to eat?"

She sends a picture of her running her tongue over her teeth. "How about Chez Charles, and the chef can feed me whatever he wants, maybe with his fingers."

Things are really getting interesting. "Shall I make a reservation? My deck is free all week."

The picture of her upper body in a tight tanktop is accompanied by, "Is tonight okay or do you need more time to get ready, old man?"

I ponder what food I can feed her and come up with a salad with sliced cucumbers and tomato wedges, homemade chicken strips with potato wedges and dipping sauces, and I try to think of something I can feed her for dessert. "Come whenever you want. Supper will be at 6:00."

Her reply is another picture, this time a full body shot taken in the mirror of her in tight short shorts and the tanktop, smiling, giving me a thumbs up.



I'm still putting together the meal when she knocks on my patio door. The woman on the other side of the sliding glass door looks very different from the young adult I met so recently. Her mid-thigh length black dress is tight around her hips and no lines are interrupting the flow, other than the outline of the garter belt around her waist and the lace bands around her upper thighs at the top of her sheer black stockings. She slowly turns around to show me the deep v running from her shoulders to the visible cleft between her butt cheeks. I gesture for her to come in and she catwalk struts to me. She's as tall as me in her platform stiletto heels and her mouth lines up nicely with mine as she kisses me on the lips.

"Thank you for inviting me to your place. I can't wait to see what you are planning to feed me."

She's the one who invited herself to my place, but I'm not complaining in the slightest, especially after her kiss. I feed her a slice of orange from the pile I have ready to go into the sun tea. "Why don't you pour us a couple of glasses of tea while I get the chicken and potatoes into the oven. Have a seat on the deck, I'll be out in a few minutes."

Watching her generous ass move in her dress is a marvellous sight, and there is no way she can wear a bra with the deep v back. I'm still watching her as she pours us each a glass and does a "Sharon Stone" as she takes a seat. My day just keeps getting better as it goes on. I tear my attention away from her long enough to slide the pan into the oven and join her on the deck with the salad. I might be reading more into the situation, but I made only one salad for both of us to share, with the cucumber and tomato slices around the edge and an assortment of bowls of salad dressing in the middle to dip them in.

She's arranged the chairs at the corner of the table so she is close enough for me to feed her from the bowl, which I begin to do. I forget all about feeding myself as I watch her consume the food I put in her mouth, until she leans forward slightly and dips a slice of cucumber into a dish and puts it into my mouth, along with her dressing-coated fingertips. The invitation to lick her fingers is clear without her saying anything.

I don't just feed her bits of cucumber and tomato, the rest of the salad is from my garden and I feed her small forkfuls after dipping it into the dressing, selecting a different dressing each time.

The next slice of cucumber I feed her includes my fingertips and she wraps her lips around them and slowly uses her tongue to remove the dressing from every possible place the dressing could be, and some it could not reach to.

The oven beeps to let me know the chicken and potatoes are ready, and I reluctantly get up to remove them. She does another "Sharon Stone" as I return with the food. "Young lady, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Her smile gets bigger. "You haven't told me to stop yet, so I won't. The salad is nice, but you promised me a meal. What else are you going to feed me?" I set the tray on the table and she frowns. "I can buy chicken strips and potato wedges anywhere."

I dip a chicken strip into my homemade honey-mustard sauce and hold it in front of her mouth. She has no choice but to lean forward to bite into it. The front of her dress moves away from her modest chest slightly and my observation she looked bustier is confirmed by the adhesive black pushup bra she is wearing. She blushes as she sees where I am looking and says, "That was supposed to be for later. I dressed so I would look good for you. I know what kind of women you like."

I move the chicken strip away from her mouth slightly so she has to lean forward more. "You don't know as much about me as you think. If you are around me long enough, you'll learn a lot more about what I like. Now, less talk and more eating before the food gets cold."

The rest of the meal passes in relative silence except for an occasional moan from her when she licks the sauce from my fingers or I brush my fingertip against one of the pistons on her Herbst. Even though I bring the food to her mouth, she leans forward occasionally anyway. I thought about doing a banana split for dessert but decided to do a fruit salad instead. I'm glad I did go with the less messy selection. It would be a shame to get her pretty dress dirty.

The tray gets replaced by a shallow pail of ice with a substantial bowl with bitesize fruit pieces and a container of real farm fresh whipped cream. All of the fruit is as fresh as I could get and I cut it all into pieces perfect for feeding her. Some of the fruit I had picked because it WOULD get stuck to her braces. I start with easy fruits, such as grapes. I had peeled a few so the skins wouldn't cause a problem, leaving more grapes closer to the bottom of the bowl for later.

She quickly starts feeding me pieces and soon we are taking turns dipping the fruit in the whipped cream. Her fingers get more cream on them than mine do, and I pay attention to them each time they do. While my fingers don't get as messy as hers, they do spend considerable time in contact with her braces, part of the time exploring the bands on the inside of her mouth.

I begin picking fruit I know will stick to her braces, and before long, she is smiling widely, displaying the fruit-entangled braces for me to see. As planned, I produce a variety of things to remove the debris from her braces. She opens wide when she sees the dental kit, all of which she is familiar with from her course. Every time I remove the leftovers from a piece of fruit, she squirms in her seat and not from discomfort.

Finally she says, "Are you trying to make me gain weight? I'm going to have to go to the gym for a week to work off all the whipped cream I am eating. Maybe I should get you to join me so you can experience what I go through to look like this."

My brain is fully connected to my mouth as I say, "If it means getting to see more of you, it would be delightful to join you." My eyes say more than my mouth as I slowly gaze at her generous hips, modest chest and spectacularly bejewelled mouth. Her sparkling smile is all I need to confirm my message has been understood. She may be young, but we are speaking the same language.



She does another "Sharon Stone" as she stands up to help me carry everything inside. I wash while she dries, and there is some bodily contact as we work together. After everything is cleaned up, we return to my deck and enjoy watching the sunset while sipping sun tea. She tells me more about the course she is taking, and then she casually mentions they are having trouble finding people for the students to practice on.

She's not really serious when she says, "It's too bad your teeth are so straight, it would be fun to have you in my chair to practice on. I remember how much you smiled when you had braces and it would be a lot of fun to see you in braces again. I had a few fantasies I was too young for, and now that I am older, it's a shame I can't indulge in them."

My mouth stays closed as my mind mulls over the possibilities. Would I want to have braces again? Yes, no doubt about it. Do I need braces? It's a hard question to answer and it revolves around how I define "need". Physically, my teeth are straight and well-aligned. Mentally and emotionally is a different story. After all these years, I still miss my braces frequently and wish I had kept them longer. I had my braces removed far too soon after my accident and I suffered emotionally for a long time after they were removed. My orthodontist agreed to make me a set of Essix retainers with brackets glued to them and it helped a little, but it wasn't the same as having the real thing. So, do I need to have braces again? In my opinion, yes I do!

Rather than tell her what I am thinking, I ask her questions about what kind of people they are looking for, what it would cost and as I think of more questions, I ask them. The level of tea in the pitcher gradually drops as we talk. The solar lights spread among my flowers come on, lighting up my garden and casting a dim light over my deck. The sparkle coming off of her braces changes colour as the lights along the edge of my deck slowly change.

She puts her feet on my lap and says, "Please undo my shoes for me. As nice as these shoes look, after a while they become uncomfortable." I take my time unfastening the buckles on the straps around her ankles and slip her shoes off before I begin to massage her stocking-covered feet.  The bright-white polish on her toenails contrasts appealingly with the sheer black of her stockings and I watch her toes wiggle as I gently massage her ankles and the tops of her feet. It doesn’t take long for her to half sigh, half moan as the soreness in her feet begins to ebb.

I shift my chair so I am facing her, enabling me to switch to rubbing the bottom of her feet and her moans become ones of pleasure. She leans her head back against the chair and parts her lips in a relaxed, casual smile of delight. I work on one foot for a while and then her knees spread slightly as she puts her neglected foot on top of the one I am working on, indicating she wants me to switch.

She begins to fidget in her chair after a while and finally says, “I need to use the little girl's room. I think all the delicious tea has affected me. I’ll be right back.” Her generous ass is a marvel to watch as she walks into my place.

Watching her walk toward me is just as pleasurable to watch. She’s let her vibrant coppery-red hair down with it draped over her modest chest and her tight black dress flows smoothly over the curves of her toned waist, generous hips and muscular thighs without the flow being uninterrupted by any lines. She has her stockings neatly folded on top of the garterbelt and she takes her time placing them in her purse, definitely letting me see them.

She resumes her place in the chair in front of me and places her feet on my lap again, and with a mischievous smile, says, “You can continue with the fabulous massage now.” Every time she wants me to switch feet, her knees part slightly as she moves the foot she wants massaged on top. I have a few more questions about the course she is taking and slip in a few about what would be involved if I volunteered to be a patient. I also ask about what she does to stay in shape and hint that I would enjoy joining her sometimes, giving her the opportunity to invite me if she wants.

It's well after sunset when she asks me to put her shoes back on her feet and says she has really enjoyed our evening together. I walk her to her car, and before she gets in, she puts her arms around me and presses her lips to mine. As her lips part slightly, I can't stop myself from slipping my tongue between them and brushing it against her braces. Her arms tighten and she presses herself against my body, wrapping one leg around me and pressing her modest chest against mine. To give her some support, I slide my hand down her bare back and cup her firm, more-than-a-handful butt, taking note of the uninterrupted flow of the fabric of her dress.

She's panting slightly as she disconnects her lips from mine and gasps, "We better stop before we do something we both won't regret but know better than to let happen." She pauses to take a deep breath and adds, "Yet."

We untangle ourselves and I hold the door for her as she gets into her car.

The sun tea makes its presence known and I go inside to relieve myself. Neatly positioned by the sink is her adhesive bra and a note. "Return this to me the next time you see me."

Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter
« Reply #6 on: 07. August 2024, 00:17:09 AM »
Chapter 6

Tuesday morning, my cellphone chimes with a text from 'Helga'. The picture accompanying it is of the girl next door. "Hey old man, how would you like to join me for a swim later? We can start to get you back in shape so you can keep up with me. I still have some of the delicious fruit and cream to work off."

I'm not about to turn down an invitation like this. "Where and when?"

Her reply is a video showing her smiling face and a fair amount of her bare shoulders and upper chest, hinting at her being undressed or very scantily clad without showing if she is. "If you have a speedo, bring it or buy one. If you don't want to wear a speedo, bring a short, tight bathing suit. I expect you to make an honest effort to keep up with me in the pool. My last class ends at 3:00, so I'll be at the campus pool by 3:30. Don't be late."

I keep in shape and am still fit for a guy my age, but I'm not a speedo type of guy. It's been a while since I went swimming, so I know I'm going to be out of practice. I have a decent idea of what she wants to see me in and go hunting through my dresser for the right pair. When they are dry or I'm standing, they hide everything. When I am floating or swimming on my back, her imagination won't have to do much work.



I deliberately show up early to watch the women walk in, or maybe a better way of describing it would be to say I was there to watch for women with glitter in their smiles. The range in ages was about right for a few decent sightings, just young enough to still be going through their first time in braces or just old enough to be fixing their smiles before their careers really get going. The advice I was given all those years ago still works. Whenever a woman catches me looking at her, I smile and wait briefly for her to react. Most smile back at me before I look away, and to those with braces, I give a slight nod. Most keep walking with a smile on their face.

An official-sounding androgynous voice behind me says, "Sir, would you mind not staring at the ladies, this is designated as a safe space by the campus authorities."

I don't bother to turn my head. "If you give me something better to stare at, I'll stop smiling at the ladies. They don't seem to be bothered by having me smile at them, and I wasn't staring, I was admiring."

The voice behind me becomes more feminine. "So stop admiring them and start admiring me instead."

The person behind me is who I expect it to be. Her hair is still the beautiful shade of coppery-red and it is done up in a long braid. Her smile is just as beautifully enhanced as when she was at my place and is complimented by black elastics stretching between her upper and lower canines. The knee-length black yoga pants snuggly curve around her generous muscular thighs and hug her trim waist and belly, leaving her belly button exposed below her petite breasts, so delightfully displayed by her figure-hugging black crop top.

She gestures for me to follow her. "Follow me, Grandpa." We walk past the front desk and she holds up two fingers in the victory sign. The girl behind the desk laughs and her sparkling metal braces come into view as the gate buzzes for us to enter. Helga doesn't turn around, just says, "You're supposed to be staring at me, Grandpa."

I can't let a comment like that go, so I reply, "So twitch your gorgeous ass at me and give me something better to look at." The girl behind the desk is still laughing as I look back at her before the door to the dressing rooms closes.



The water is a comfortable temperature as I slip into the pool and look around. The girl behind the desk is looking through the observation window and smiles at me when I catch sight of her. She points to the side and I turn in time to see Helga walk onto the poolside deck in a black lace beach robe and what looks like very little else. She blushes slightly as she slips off the robe to reveal a one-piece black bathing suit with more see-through stretch lace than solid material. A bikini would have concealed about as much of her body as her one-piece suit does. She does a slow turn to show the deep-cut back with the band around her neck fastening the top. Her black platform wedge sandals add a finishing touch to her outfit.

Her blush deepens as she steps out of her sandals and walks to the steps into the pool with me intently watching her. The smile on her face shows she is enjoying this just as much as I am. I find out just why she is blushing as the water creeps up until it stops right below the black triangles covering her petite breasts. There isn’t enough material to cover her breasts completely and the bumps in the fabric confirm everything there is her, not padding. Her voice is barely above a whisper as she says, “I bought this suit to wear when I am tanning on my balcony. It doesn’t leave any tan lines where they will show. This is my first time wearing it where anyone else can see it. I thought I would wear it for you. Do you like it?”

I return her smile as she lays back in the water and floats in front of me, then slowly kicks her feet, propelling herself away from me. I follow her in her wake, swimming on my stomach and watching her body as it repeatedly slips beneath the water to reappear as she kicks again. She stays just far enough ahead of me so we aren't touching and I can see her from the tips of her toes, between her muscular generous thighs, beyond her petite breasts, to her braced smile clearly. I'm almost to the other end of the pool when she flips over and pushes away from the end of the pool and I get a marvellous view of her broad ass covered by the black lace fabric stretched over it as she passes me. I can tell she could easily outswim me, but she doesn't, setting her pace to match my speed and giving me plenty of opportunities to enjoy watching her swim. She swims in one direction on her back and the return lap on her stomach until I begin to fall behind as I tire.

I sit on the steps and watch her swim several more laps while I recover. There's a debate going on in my head which is more stimulating, watching her breasts and thighs as she swims away from me or watching her muscular ass cheeks as she swims toward me. I'm still trying to figure it out as she walks up the steps beside me. "You had enough, old man? I'm really going to have to work to get you in shape. Take a good shower, and after, you can drive me to my apartment. I made lasagna. All I have to do is bake it."

It's my turn to blush. "It wouldn't be too polite to stand right now. Someone might come from the changing rooms at any time."

Her braces sparkle as she laughs. "Nobody is going to use the pool. It's closed for another hour."

I gesture to the window and the girl watching us through the glass with a big smile on her face. "What about her? She can see everything going on in here."

My alpine goddess smiles wider. "Don't worry about her. She's one of my patients. We were talking at her last appointment and she's the one who convinced me to indulge in some of my fantasies. It was her idea to invite you to swim with me. The bathing suit was my idea and I'm glad I did wear it. You can sit there as long as you want, but you'll be thinking of me showering while you do."

Watching her butt twitch as she walks away from me doesn't help my situation one bit. I look at the girl watching me through the window and stand up. Her smile gets bigger and she gives me two thumbs up before she turns around, letting me retain some of my dignity, and the two thumbs up is a boost to my ego.



Helga is waiting for me outside the changing rooms in a simple off-the-shoulder black dress and slip-on two-inch stilettos with a big smile. We're almost to my truck before she says anything. "My friend at the desk said it was a shame I missed watching you get out of the pool. She doesn't know you're having supper with me."

Having her in my truck the way she's dressed is distracting, and fortunately, the drive is just across the campus. Her place is bigger than I expected and has a large screened-in balcony. She sees me looking at the plants in the large pots along the edge and giggles. "When I moved out of my mom's place, I brought a little of you with me too. I took seeds from your plants and dug up a few bulbs from your garden when you weren't around. When I get a place of my own, I'm going to start growing plants the way you do."

On a small table sitting amid the plants is a jug of sun tea. The sun comes out from behind a cloud and shines on her braces, making them sparkle. "I'm still trying to figure out how you make such good tea. Have a seat while I put the lasagna in the oven and we'll sip tea while it's baking."

Despite her claim about the tea, the level in the jug decreases slowly. Her tea has a different flavour from mine and is equally as delicious. The smell of the food drifts through the door and onto the balcony as she tells me about the procedures she is currently learning. Once again, she mentions they are having a hard time finding people to volunteer as patients and she slips in a few comments about it being too bad that I already had braces and she wishes she could have me as a patient.

The idea she planted not so long ago takes root and grows when she says, "Why don't you come by one afternoon and let me look at your teeth? The instructor would be happy to see a new potential patient show up, and having you in my chair at my mercy would be a step toward satisfying another fantasy on my bucket list." I don't realize I am running my tongue over my teeth until her eyes focus on my mouth and she giggles. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?"

While I watch her ass gyrate as she walks into the kitchen to get the lasagna, a picture forms in my mind of her wearing scrubs and a lab coat leaning over me, checking my teeth. My tongue spends a fair amount of time running over my teeth as we eat, and she seems to be running her tongue over her teeth more than is necessary to remove the food from her braces, giving me glimpses of her teeth as she does.

Being a student in an orthodontics course has advantages and one of those is a supply of single-use brushes. She watches me as I brush my teeth, clicking her tongue in disapproval at the way I am brushing. "Have you forgotten how to properly brush your teeth? Am I going to have to teach you how to do it?"

She gently pushes me to the side with her hip and begins to brush her teeth, keeping her mouth open so I can see exactly what she is doing. I watch as she thoroughly cleans around each bracket and behind the archwires, and then she puts on a display of cleaning the Herbst pistons. She opens her mouth really wide and pushes her lower jaw forward, and the pistons come apart. I watch, fascinated, as she uses a WaterPik to spray inside the upper parts of the pistons and wonder why she didn’t use it to clean her teeth from the start. Her eyes focus on mine in the mirror and she turns the wand slightly, spraying me in the face.

I can’t let her get away with it and reach for the wand to spray her back. She turns away from me and I end up with my arms around her and her firm ass pressing against the front of me. It becomes a contest to see who will gain control of the wand. She has a slight advantage because she can lean away from me, but I have her trapped against the edge of the sink and she can’t get away from me. Her advantage becomes more noticeable as her ass presses back against me and my body involuntarily responds to the feel of the cleft between her ass cheeks. It also doesn’t help that she arches her back, pressing her modest chest against my arms.

There’s water all over the bathroom, including over both of us, with her dress getting most of the water sprayed on it. The reservoir on the WaterPik finally empties and she turns so she is facing me and holds the wand out to me. With my arms still around her, she can’t get away from me and her mouth is too tempting to resist. Her lips meet mine as I lean forward and they part as we kiss. I intended to make it a quick peck on the lips, but she has other ideas. The hose to the wand coils as she lets go and her arms go around my neck. Our kiss becomes longer as I brush my tongue over the brackets on her teeth, and longer still as she lets my tongue deeper into her mouth to play with the bands on the inside of her teeth and the pistons connecting her jaws together.

My clothes get wetter as she wraps one leg around me and presses her body against mine. She's the one who pulls away first, and I miss the feel of her lips against mine. I do still have her body pressed against mine to enjoy, but it isn't quite as pleasant as having her braces to play with too. She slowly disengages her body from mine and leans back against the sink. "I could get used to being kissed that way more often, old man! You've obviously learnt what women like when they are being kissed, over the years. Maybe you can give me some practical lessons on kissing." Her lips pucker as if she is going to kiss me again, but instead, she moves my hands away from her body and leaves the bathroom.

I follow her to her bedroom, and wait outside when she closes the door. For a woman, it doesn't take her long to change out of her wet clothes and into a snug, stretchy black crop top and equally snug upper-thigh-length skirt. "Let's go sit on the balcony again and give you a chance to dry off." I find out it isn't a skirt when she turns around, revealing the shorts moulded over her ass. It's been a long time since I've seen a woman wearing a skort and it brings back memories of when I was younger. She smiles when she sees how my body responds to her display.

While sipping more tea, we talk more about her course. She keeps dropping hints she wants to get me into her chair, and I agree to show up for an afternoon appointment, even though I just had a checkup and cleaning not long ago.


0/1543

Offline Braces1234

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Re: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter
« Reply #7 on: 07. August 2024, 11:00:54 AM »
Very well written, it nice to read more ‘’ realistic ‘’ stories from time to time

Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter
« Reply #8 on: 07. August 2024, 20:32:28 PM »
Writing stories about things that could happen is enjoyable.

Some of my stories have things that I have seen or done at some point in my life, though all of my stories are fantasy. With this story, it is up to the reader to decide what parts are true, what parts are wishful thinking and what parts are complete fantasy.

Offline ortho218

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Re: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter
« Reply #9 on: 08. August 2024, 19:50:47 PM »
Writing stories about things that could happen is enjoyable.

Agreed! That's what I was trying to do with 'Holly' (will get back to it one day.....)

This story is good, honestly a little borderline to me with the age thing at first but glad they are both clearly adults now and the 'possible'-ness of the scenario is exciting :)

Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter
« Reply #10 on: 01. September 2024, 06:48:44 AM »
Chapter 7

Thursday afternoon, I'm sitting in the waiting room a little early, discreetly looking at the people around me. As expected for an orthodontist's office, many of the people have some form of appliance. The rest of them look as if they are waiting with someone or expecting someone to finish their appointment. It shouldn't be a surprise to me, but the number of young adult women with braces makes up a significant proportion of the patients waiting. Those that catch me looking at them get a smile from me, and quite a few smile back. One moves to a seat closer to me, where she is facing me. She smiles more, displaying her coloured ligatures.

My braced goddess comes from the treatment room and says, "Okay, old man, enough staring at the ladies. It's your turn in the chair. Let's go." The woman who's been flashing her braces at me laughs, as do many of the other patients. I tip an imaginary hat at her and bow to the rest before I follow Helga.

My imagination didn't do her justice. She looks even better than I pictured, wearing her lab coat and scrubs. She has me reclined in the chair with the bib around my neck very quickly, and her fingers and tools are in my mouth in no time, examining my teeth. Her assistant is quite a distraction, with her self-ligating metal braces and shiny metal archwires. They both have a professional attitude as they work, and if I didn't have such a fascination with braces, I wouldn't be able to follow half of what they are saying. My chart on the computer gradually fills up, and my expectations of a quick appointment are shattered as my braced goddess says, "We're going to take impressions of your jaws. There are a couple of things I want to check before I give you my diagnosis. Overall, your teeth look very good, especially after so many years since you had braces."

The assistant smiles at me. "Relax, it's all part of the training process. You've probably had alginate impressions done more than once, so you know what to expect." I return her smile and nod. My braced goddess slips cheek retractors into my mouth and test-fits impression trays while her assistant preps the goo. One of the instructors stops to take a look, and Hawley retainers enhance her smile.

Helga is smiling mischievously as her assistant inserts the upper tray, and as the alginate oozes out all over my palate, she begins to snicker. I fight my gag reflex for as long as I can, and finally have to give in. She presses the pedal to sit me up and the urge to spew goes away. I get a nice view of what she has on underneath her lab coat as she bends over and whispers in my ear, "The next one won't be as bad. I had her add too much goo to the top tray on purpose. You're in my chair and at my mercy to do whatever I want to you." The bottom impression is much more pleasant, and then they roll over a machine I haven't seen before. "Smile for me and open your mouth slightly." The assistant turns the computer screen so I can see it and I watch as my braced goddess moves a wand around the inside of my mouth and my teeth appear on the screen. "Close your teeth and smile really big for me." My Goddess inserts her finger between my cheek and gums to make space so she can scan the outside of my teeth, and a three-dimensional model of the inside of my mouth forms on the screen.

The instructor takes a seat beside me and looks at the result of the scan and the impressions of my teeth. Her perfume wafts over me, bringing back memories of when I was younger. She talks to her two students, pointing out what they could have done better and the things they did right. Having too much alginate in the top tray is one of the items she brings up. It's as if I am not even there as they discuss the impression and scan results.

Having three women in braces so close to me, totally ignoring my presence, allows me to examine them in much better detail. The instructor is much closer to my age than her students, and even for a woman her age, she is mighty fine-looking. She has her lab coat partially undone and her blouse fits snugly over her generous chest, with just a hint of cleavage visible. What really draws my attention are her Hawley retainers. The archwires fit snugly to her teeth and are shaped to match the contours perfectly. As she talks, I catch glimpses of the rainbow acrylic on her top palate. She tilts her head back as she laughs and more light illuminates the inside of her mouth, and I see the metal embedded in the middle of her retainer, along with a fine line running through it from front to back. I become lost in speculating on why someone with such nicely aligned teeth would be wearing an expander.

My attention is brought back to where I am by the assistant putting her hand on my shoulder. The three of them are looking at me expectantly and I realize they are waiting for me to answer a question I have been too lost in thought to hear. I sheepishly say, "Sorry, my mind has been elsewhere for a little while. It isn't often I am in the presence of three so orthodontically enhanced beautiful ladies at the same time. What was the question?"

The instructor's cheeks take on a faint pink shade, while the assistant smiles wider and my braced Nordic goddess manages to only partially suppress a chuckle. My eyes are drawn back to the instructor's mouth as she says, "Would you be willing to volunteer to be a patient for the class? We are always looking for more people so the students have a larger variety of patients to study. It doesn't cost you anything except for a little of your time."

I get lost again in her smile. She ticks off so many of the things I find attractive in a woman and she's adding more things to my list. It never occurred to me that a woman nearly my age would be in an occupation so fascinating to me, and it makes her even more attractive to me. The seed of the idea my goddess planted and watered blooms at being asked if I want to be in the presence of this beautiful woman again. My mouth disconnects from my brain as I say, "If it means getting to see more of you, it would be an honour to be your patient." A part of my brain has been subconsciously working and has taken note of the absence of a ring on her finger and no evidence of one having been there for some time.

My braced goddess can't suppress her chuckle any longer. "Laying it on a bit thick, old man?"

I don't bother to look at her, keeping my gaze on the face of the instructor. "I don't see it that way. When I see a beautiful woman, I'm not scared to tell her I think she is beautiful. It worked with you, didn't it?" I glance at my alpine goddess and see I have two blushing women around me. I'm on a roll and go for broke. I turn my gaze to the assistant and add, "I haven't forgotten about you. I wish all the orthodontic assistants I had working on me were as pretty as you are." And now I have three women blushing.

I'm a bit disappointed when the instructor leaves to check on other students and I keep an eye on her for as long as I can. The rest of my examination goes just like most of my dental appointments have in the past. I notice the instructor seems to be staying where I can easily see her and she's undone the remaining fasteners on her lab coat, letting her blouse and skirt show more. Frequently, I catch her looking in my direction, and when she hastily looks away when I smile, it is with a grin on her face.

My braced goddess leans over and whispers in my ear, "I saw the way you were looking at her. I'm going to do something about it. Relax and enjoy the show." The place gradually empties as the patients and students leave, until it is just the four of us left. Without any excuse for not checking on why I am still in the chair, she turns away from me and pretends to check on the rest of the room before returning to my chair. She bends over a bit and asks, "Is there some problem I am not aware of?"

Both of her students grin and my student orthodontist says, "Would you mind taking a look? I want to be sure I didn't miss anything."

The instructor smiles, giving me a spectacular view of her expander/retainer combo as she puts her hand on the armrest and bends over more. The view I have from my position is most stimulating and I realize why she turned to check the room before returning to my chair. She used the time to unfasten one more button on her blouse. Her examination of my mouth is thorough and my examination of her is just as thorough, especially the inside of her mouth, where I find her bottom retainer is just as marvellously accessorized as her top retainer.

She shifts her hand slightly so it is resting against my arm and looks me in the eyes. "There is no reason I can find that would prevent you from becoming a patient here. Unfortunately, you won't be a patient of mine, but I will be supervising your case myself if you do decide to volunteer. How about we arrange a follow-up appointment to give you time to decide." It's more than a question and less than a demand.

I've already decided I am going to take advantage of the opportunity to see more of her, and the finger rubbing against my arm where her students can't see it just reinforces my decision. I don't want to seem too eager, so I make it seem as if I am reluctantly agreeing. She turns to her students and says, "Why don't you get changed? I'll take care of arranging another appointment for Charles."

Helga grins as she brings my chair to an upright position before spinning in her chair and standing. I wait until the squeak from the soles of their shoes fades before I stand, allowing my body to return to a mostly presentable state. It only lasts long enough for her to slip out of her lab coat. She doesn't hurry, and even though she isn't deliberately making it look sexy, watching her body emerge from the covering has the same effect on me as a stripper would have. Her eyes drop briefly and her cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink.

"Let's book you an appointment and then we can go to my office and talk for a while if you would like." She doesn't give me a chance to respond, she simply turns away with the expectation I will follow her. I don't know how much of the sway her ass has is natural and how much is for my benefit, and it doesn't matter. Following her is a pleasure. I lean on the counter when she goes behind the desk, and instead of sitting down, she bends over to the keyboard and logs on.

She doesn't look up at me as she says, "Why don't you join me on this side of the desk instead of me having to read off the times available."

The view over the counter is enticing, and the view behind the counter is equally pleasant. With her bent over, the fabric of her skirt is stretched delightfully over her hips and thighs, and the outline of the straps of a garter belt is evident. A few more items on my "attractive woman list" are ticked off. She turns her head to look back at me and asks, "Do you see anything that will work for you?"

My brain is busy enjoying the view and my mouth goes on autopilot. "I sure do."

I have a marvellous view of her expander as she laughs. "Thank you, but I meant, do you see any open times that will work for you to come back for a follow-up appointment."

I reluctantly turn my attention to the screen and try to decide when would be the proper time to return to see her. Too soon and it will seem as if I am trying too hard, and if I wait too long, it will seem as if I am not interested. I look for a timeslot at the end of the day so I can be the last patient in the chair and have an opportunity to linger after the students are done for the day. An ideal time slot is open in a week and I lean forward to point to it.

She shifts her hip to the side as I am leaning forward and my upper thighs come into contact with her soft cheeks. I don't have time to apologize before she takes an appointment card and turns it over to write a phone number and name on the back. "This is my direct line." She writes another number below her name. "This is my cell phone. You can reach me in the evening at this number." She leans back slightly and her back comes into contact with my chest. "It's been a while since I've met anyone I've wanted to get to know. I get the impression my students think we should get to know each other." She giggles like a schoolgirl. "I hope I'm not being too forward. I'm not the kind of woman who would ever ask a guy out and here I am practically throwing myself at you. Tell me if I am being too much of a hussy before I chase you away."

I lean forward against her a little more and point to the timeslot on the screen. "How about you put my name here? After the students are finished, we can go somewhere and talk about the possibility of you becoming my personal orthodontist." I wiggle my hips slightly. "I'm looking forward to becoming your private patient."

We don't end up in her office. I offer to take her to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee, but she politely declines. By unspoken mutual agreement, we decide to let our emotions cool off and take the time to think about what we might be getting into.