Blonde Woman

A blonde woman walks up the path, waving as she closes in. “Hello there neighbor!”

Ethan blinks, regarding the approaching… Stranger?

‘No,’ he thinks, her face coming into view. He knows her.

She's tall, maybe even taller than Ethan is, but that’s not the thing that really catches his attention. The woman is stacked, with a full chest and wide bottom to match. The top half of her jiggles with each step, and had she not been wearing a loose skirt Ethan was sure he’d notice her ass bouncing as well. Trying to make eye contact, Ethan notes that her face is also worth lingering on, with full lips and bright blue eyes. {if Alex Kiss =True} Different from Alex’s, Ethan can’t help but note.{endif}

He definitely knows this woman. Or at least her tits.

Stopping in front of him, she beams a smile. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“N-No,” Ethan stands up, hoping to come eye level and not tit level with the woman. Thankfully, he’s close enough. “I was just taking a break from some yard work.”

The blonde woman looks around. “Oh…” she frowns slightly, then turns her gaze back to Ethan. “Well, that sounds like a big job.”

Trying not to stare at her, feels like he’s on the cusp of remembering who she is. She’s a neighbor. She said so, but he knew that. ‘Based on her age…’ No Ethan looks closer. She’s older than she looks. Forties? A neighbor in her forties with massive tits…

Realization hits him. He knows who she is!

“Mrs. Clark,” Ethan tries to say it smooth, not betraying he only JUST remembered her name. “What brings you around this time of day?”

The blonde woman giggles, not betraying if she noticed. "Ms. Clark, please.. Mrs. Clark was my mother."

Ms. Clark. Yes, Ethan remembers that now. A small but important distinction a younger Ethan didn't always grasp. She was a single mother. Ethan vaguely recalled there being something about her being divorced, but the details were gathered in passing, and not meant for his ears.

"But please, Ethan. Ms. Clark is far too formal a name to call your neighbor. It's Layla."

“Layla,” Ethan tries the name on for size. “So what brings you around today?”

“Well,” Layla plants her hands on her womanly hips, striking a pose of faux outrage. “I’ve been trying to welcome you to the neighborhood, but you’re a hard man to catch. Twice now I’ve stopped by, and both times I’ve been left on the porch!”

“Oh.” Ethan thinks back. There was that doorbell he ignored two days ago, and he was out for a walk just yesterday. “Sorry… I’ve, Uh, been busy.”

“I did have a pie for you, but I was **** to rehome it. Consider it the penalty for leaving a lady hanging!” Layla drops her hands and the act. “But I’ll bake you another soon enough, dear.”

Ethan really liked the sound of that.

“Ethan,” Layla looked around, frowning again at what she must have measured as shoddy work. “Would you like some help with,” she waves her hand around, “all this?”

“No, no, no. I’ve got it,” Ethan lied. “I’ve got nothing else to do, and I’m sure you’re busy with…” Ethan pauses, unsure what she ‘does’. “Rehoming pies…”

Layla lets out a strong belly-rooted laugh. “Oh heavens no!” She shakes her head. “I didn't mean I’d help you! My thumb is about as green as an orange. I simply know somebody who does this sort of work. She does my outdoor maintenance, and I’m sure she could help with this…” Layla swats the air, casting a glance at the half-mowed lawn.

“I don’t think I can afford that-”

“Nonsense,” Layla cuts him off, her tone far from sharp but strong. “I will cover it. Consider it a proper housewarming gift.”

“Okay…” Ethan shifts in place. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. I shall make the call. I doubt she’ll be around for a few days. She’s quite busy, but…” Layla smiles and winks. “I’ll see if I can grease the wheels.”

Before Ethan can thank her again, the tall woman turns and walks away, leaving him with his half-done work.