She broke from her reverie and blinked a few times. Her pale skin turned a rosy pink as she blushed and then she smiled at me. “Right, right. There’re some slats on the porch railing that broke off during that last storm. And my yard is a mess of fallen tree branches.”
I turned and looked at the damage. Storms in Southern California usually weren’t a big deal, but it HAD been windy and she was right, the railing was damaged.
“Sorry,” she leaned forward and apologized with her eyes. “I can’t do anything anymore without a man in the house.”
I nodded. Miss McNeil’s husband had died in a car accident three years earlier. She was only 25 then. And in the intervening three years, I’d never once seen her date. It was inconceivable that such a beautiful young woman was still without a man in her life. Really, she was gorgeous and youthful. If she walked around my high school campus, dozens of guys would be asking her out.
“Okay, no problem. Are those standard sectionals they have at Home Depot?” I asked.
“You know, I have no idea. Colin put that together.” She winced slightly at the mention of her husband’s name. I figured that was why she was still single. She hadn’t yet gotten over her husband’s death.
“It’s alright. I’ll figure it out,” I assured her, moving the subject along. “Okay then, I’ll drive out and pick up what’s needed. Should be back in a half-hour.” I started to turn away.
“Really? Drive?” Miss McNeil looked surprised.
“Yeah. I turned sixteen last week.” Grinning, I pulled my car keys out of my pocket and tossed them in the air. My parents had bought me a 10-year-old Corolla. Nothing to impress girls with, but they were MY set of wheels.
“Well, happy belated birthday, Ben.”
“Thanks.”
“Bring back a receipt,” Miss McNeil reminded me. She crossed her arms over her chest, which inadvertently lifted and pressed her breasts together.
“Sure thing. See you later,” I told her tits.
“Bye.”
Two hours later, the sun was ascending high into the sky and sweat was literally dripping off my body. It was April, which was technically springtime. But in Orange County, California, that meant the occasional 90+ degree weather. So I’d stripped off my shirt and then poured half the contents of my water bottle over my head to cool off.
Repairing the railing had been a simple enough job. There were only two damaged sections, and a few tugs on the crowbar had pulled them loose. Nailing in the newly-bought pieces from Home Depot went quickly. Painting them took less than 20 minutes from prep to finish.
More of a hassle was picking up the strewn tree branches from around the yard. My muscles bulged as I used shears and a hacksaw to cut the branches down so they’d fit into the big green trash bin. And there were enough branches and debris that my 16-year-old body was getting tired.
“Wow, Ben. You’re looking good!”
The girlish voice had my attention immediately. I picked up my head and spun around in an awful hurry to see who was talking, and managed to scrape my arm on a branch in the process.
“Oww!” I yelped in instinct and shook out my arm, then turned and blushed to see Adrienne Dennis standing on the sidewalk, grinning at me.
“Oh, sorry!” she giggled. “Did you hurt yourself? I didn’t mean to distract you.”
“Uh, just a scratch,” I shrugged while deliberately pitching my voice lower. To tell the truth, the scratch stung like a motherfucker, and it was already forming a bright red welt. But I acted like it was nothing.
The gorgeous blonde teenager obviously let her eyes trail down my bare chest and naked torso before coming back up to my face. She grinned flirtatiously and giggled again. “You’re growing up, Ben.”
“I guess.” I shrugged again, playing it cool. At least, I played it as cool as a horny 16-year-old could. I tried to keep a straight face while I flexed my pectorals and tried to squeeze my abs. At this point in my growth spurt, I was still wiry and skinny instead of muscular, but I had pretty good definition.
“Well, I’ll see you at school, Ben. Sorry again for distracting you.” Adrienne flashed me a brilliant smile and then turned to walk across the street to her house. I held my pose for another ten seconds until I was sure she wasn’t going to turn back around towards me, and then I loudly exhaled and shook out my limbs as I let my body relax.
Adrienne Dennis was one of the hottest and most popular girls in school. She was a sophomore, like me, but she’d gotten her growth spurt early, reaching 5’10” and already had a D-cup at only fifteen. Along with a blessedly pretty face and a cheery blonde demeanor, Adrienne naturally fell in with the coolest cliques.
For the last six years we’d grown up on the same street together. But that proximity had never led to us being friends. She was cool, and I was… short. I had lots of female friends, but the hottest chicks weren’t among them. So sure, Adrienne knew who I was and I DEFINITELY knew who she was, but that conversation we’d just had was our longest conversation since Junior High.
Adrienne also had WAY more sex than I’d ever had. She was kind of a slut that way, or so the rumors went. She’d dated four different guys from the football team last year, and three on the basketball team. Even as a 14-year-old freshman, word around school was that all seven guys had gone all the way with her. This year she’d switched to water polo, but her latest boyfriend had lasted for six months so only two guys had gotten into her panties this year.
She’d been careful not to get herself into any bad situations like a gangbang or anything, but from her initials A.D., she had the legendary nickname of “All-Day”, referring to her ability to have sex for hours and hours on end. She certainly had plenty of unsupervised time. Her mom died years ago and her dad was a workaholic who was never, ever home.
Some might think that her reputation as a slut would be a turn-off. Nope. Her reputation just made every male in school hope they could be next, including me. So as I watched Adrienne’s tight ass swaying beneath her skirt as she walked across the street to her house, I felt a flush of confidence in me that All-Day Adrienne had noticed that I was starting to look good.
“She’s right you know.”
The new voice had me spinning around again, although I managed not to scrape myself on a branch this time.
Miss McNeil was standing on her porch looking at me with a little smile on her face and a glass of lemonade in her hand. She smiled at me. “You ARE looking pretty good. Get some meat on your bones and you’ll be quite the handsome devil, Ben.”
I blushed and looked at my feet.
Then Miss McNeil started laughing, “But right now, you just look a mess.” She stepped off the porch and came towards me in the yard to bring me the lemonade. “You’ve got paint splatters on your shorts and so much dirt!”
I shrugged and didn’t respond verbally. Miss McNeil may have been talking about the paint on my shorts, but her gaze was on my bare chest.
“And… oh!” Her tone jumped as she exclaimed suddenly, “Are you hurt?” Miss McNeil came up to me and held my arm, twisting it over to see the bright red welt that was snaking up the length of my forearm, which was also starting to ooze blood by now.
“Oh, well… it’s nothing,” I drawled, playing it cool once again. Miss McNeil may be an adult, but she was still a pretty girl. And every instinct in me told me to act brave in front of a pretty girl.
“Nothing? We’ve got to clean this up before you get an infection or something.” She tugged on my arm and started pulling me towards the house. “Let’s get you inside.”
“But… I’m almost done!” I protested.
“You can finish later.”