Author Topic: Story - My Neighbour's Daughter  (Read 1425 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."


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.


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.


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."