Friday Night Delights Ch. 01

There was only one moving truck parked outside that brought relief to Stephen Sanders. The house next door was on the market for a long time and it finally was sold. Stephen contemplated buying it outright and keeping it for himself. A wealthy real estate mogul, he could name a price that any buyer would be afraid to pass up. Unfortunately for him, the house his new neighbor bought was not his to sell. Nonetheless, he was glad the small estate was sold. This only meant that his property value would also go up as the neighborhood filled up.

Opening up the truck and examining his sole possessions was Jerome Ray. He let out a big sigh as he stared at the back of the truck and the few pieces of furniture that greeted him. Jerome took hold of the assistance handle and put a leg up on the bumper of the truck, hoisting himself up. The thought that he should have just had some movers take care of all of this crept into his head. He was nearing 50 and his body was getting too old to do this stuff so often. Hopefully, he thought, this would be the last time. Jerome was a retired professional football player. On a bookshelf in the truck, he picked up a framed photo from his time in the league. He admired himself. Back then, he was a formidable defensive tackle. Now not even the best defensive tackle could hold him back from his favorite comfort foods. That was a long time ago, another sharp sigh.

Startled by a noise from outside, Marisa Sanders looked out to see what the commotion was. She parted a sheer curtain to see. Expecting the kids across the street to be causing a ruckus, Marisa was caught off guard by the sight. That's one behemoth of a mover, she thought . He stood tall, maybe 6'3'' and very big. Probably the most striking feature she recognized was that he was black. To get a clearly view, she pulled the curtain aside and looked intently. He was opening the truck bay. As he put his long leg on the bumper, Marisa immediately caught the size of his thighs as his shorts rode up slightly. She watched him a little longer, studying him. He was looking at a photo that she could not discern but did see that he had a few things to move. Surely he couldn't move them by himself, she questioned.

Marisa went downstairs and met Stephen in the living room. Stephen was reading on his tablet and looked up to see his wife a bit flustered. "What's the matter dear?" He asked her.

"Did you know we have a new neighbor?" She looked out the window as Stephen had earlier, noticing the truck parked outside.

"Yes I did. Joseph told me he made a killing on the sale last week. He said something about the buyer really wanted it. Hopefully they're a quiet family." Stephen said as he continued reading his tablet.

"Well, it doesn't look like they brought much with just one truck. I saw the mover open up a barely filled bay. There were some big things there though, looked like a couch or two. I think there was only one guy." She looked at Stephen, "Maybe you should go help the mover, it didn't look like there was anyone else." Stephen furrowed his brow at the suggestion. Marisa looked at her lanky husband-- he won't be much help but it's the thought that counts. "Please? I'm sure the new neighbor will appreciate the welcome." Stephen heaved a heavy breath and agreed, dragging himself to his garage.

A commotion startled Jerome as he saw the garage open at the house next door. Walking out of the garage was a thin, middle aged white man with glasses and a gaunt face. This must be the neighbor the Realtor told me about. "Hullo there sir." Jerome called out standing on the truck bay while the man approached him. The man smiled widely and started speaking before Jerome could continue.

"Hello there my good man. It looks like you need a bit of help?" Stephen offered his hand for a shake. The mover's hand extended out and engulfed Stephen's hand, with a modest grip and congenial shake. "I'm Stephen Sanders, I live next door." Jerome smiled cordially, something he carried with him everywhere, a warm southern boy's smile. Jerome began to introduce himself only to be cut off by Stephen. "You mind if I lend you a hand?"

"I'd highly appreciate sir." Jerome smiled warmly again. Oh lord, he ain't gonna be much help but I take it. Jerome pointed to a few light end-tables for Stephen to unload. Past the general exchange of formalities, Stephen did not say much and the conversation between the two hovered primarily on the topic of what was to be taken of the truck next. Over the next two hours, the pair got to know each other through the shared silences and quick conversations between coffee tables and mattresses. Stephen learned that Jerome had been a former professional football player and retired not too long ago.

"What brought you the moving business if you don't mind me asking Jerome?" Stephen implored. Jerome put on a face of contemplation and relief.

"After I left league I had to do something with my time. So a buddy of mine asked me if I was interested in working a franchise in this small town. I thought why not? It would give me something to do instead of sitting around at home." Jerome smiled toothily, "Which you can see..." he grabbed his belly, "I have been doing too much of!" He bellowed loudly, startling Stephen. "Speaking of bellies, how would you like a cold one Steve?" Jerome offered.

Stephen, hesitantly smiling, politely declined Jerome's offer. "Thanks, I'd take you up on that but are you sure it's okay for you to drink on the job?" Stephen registered an amused look on Jerome's face and suddenly felt confused.

Jerome let the silence set in for a moment as he smiled at Stephen. This poor man, he has no idea. Jerome bellowed again and explained himself to Stephen. "Of course it's okay Steve. I'm the boss. I hate to pay the guys to help me move my stuff." Stephen's confusion contorted his face slightly and Jerome smiled even more. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to tell ya Steve. You strolled over here and I appreciated your friendly help and we just got to it. Joseph tells me you're a great Realtor and you'd be a great neighbor. He was right!" Stephen meekly smiled. They heard a screen door shut next door and both looked in the direction of the sound.

Jerome had to adjust his eyes as he looked closer on the enchantment that walked toward him and Stephen. At first he noticed her neatly pedicured toes, pink and white surrendered on flip flops. Her long tanned legs were capped by khaki short shorts and met with a baby blue blouse, with the shadow of a generously filled bra underneath. She didn't stand very tall, maybe 5'1 Jerome ventured. Focusing on her face, he saw her pearly white smile and thin pink lips. She had sharp features that were accentuated by her dark chestnut brown hair. Oh my, now if that isn't an angel, I don't know what is. Jerome missed the tray she was carrying, and only registered it as she went put it down next to Stephen. He caught a profile of the woman as she bent to place the tray, noticing she had quite a bit to work with behind. And a booty, lord you have outdone yourself! Jerome grinned at the lady, squinting as if he were looking at the sun.

"I thought you boys could use something to drink after all that work." She smiled pouring a glass. Jerome stood up and extended a hand out to her. She looked up as he towered over her and looked at his massive hand.

"Thank you kindly ma'am. Name's Jerome." He smiled widely as he accepted her hand.

"What a gentleman!" She looked at how her little white manicured hand disappeared in his palm. "I'm Marisa, Stephen's wife." She looked at Stephen with a veiled air of disappointment. Thanks for the introduction Stephen.

"Yes, Jerome. This is my wife." Stephen jumped up missing his cue. He turned to his wife, "Marisa, this is Jerome, our new neighbor." Stephen added with less enthusiasm than warranted. He noticed they were still lingering in their handshake.

"New neighbor! Oh well aren't we so lucky?!" Marisa exclaimed. Damn lucky, she thought. "Welcome to the street Jerome."

"Please ma'am, call me Jerry." Jerome couldn't stop smiling. The southern gentleman in him refused to waver. He was pleased to see the color come into Marisa's cheeks.

"Oh!" Marisa blushed, "Jerry, you don't have to be so formal." Marisa quickly looked him up and down. His t-shirt fit so tightly. Though he had a bit of a belly, his legs were strong and muscular. "Please have a seat and let me serve you." Jerome sat down and continue to smile.

"What have you got there?" Jerome pointed to the pitcher as Marisa started to pour another glass. "Is it lemonade?" Marisa bent over and extended the glass to Jerome.

"It sure is Jerry," She smiled as she handed him the glass. She could see that he was looking down her blouse, so she lingered in the position. His eyes were fixated on her luscious breasts. "Freshly squeezed, just the way I like it." She added, joining Jerome in a laugh. Stephen quietly sipped his glass, quickly feeling the cordiality becoming too cumbersome.

"Well Jerome, we'll leave you to it." Stephen said as he stood up. "Come on Marisa." He said to his wife. "Enjoy the house Jerome. It's one hell of a property." Stephen turned and noticed his wife was still standing near the new neighbor. He held her hand and gave her a tug. She turned and waved bye to Jerome, who returned the gesture. What the hell just happened, Stephen thought.

Jerome watched his new neighbors return to their home. He admired Marisa's ass as it adhered to her short shorts. That's a lucky man, Jerome thought.