The girl from next door

I opened the door and found the little girl from next door standing there. I say 'little', but she is an eighteen year old freshman in college. I guess you might say she is little because she was barely five feet tall. She is a few pounds over ideal, but Is one of these kids that could be beautiful, if she took care of herself. Instead she prefers to wear jeans that are a few sizes too big, baggy sweat shirts and crops her hair WAY too short.

"Hey John," she said.

The familiarity of the way she said John's name struck me. I had no idea that they knew each other. As a wife, my first thought was that there was something going on between them, but the more I thought about it, the more doubtful I became. The was barely more than a kid. Up til this point I was pretty sure she was a lesbian.

"Good morning," I said.

"Could you do me a favor?" she asked, flashing her big brown eyes. I felt an odd stirring in my crotch. At the same time I realized I had answered the door in nothing more than boxer shorts.