Neighbors, Part One (Patreon)

One.

Who is this girl?

Very few times in my life have I seen someone so beautiful, so captivating, that I dropped everything I’m doing so that I can divert all my attention to them.

It just so happens that in this particular time I was with my wife, and she watched as my lusty gaze reached this mystery.

“You ought to take a picture,” Veronica said. “Maybe it’d be something to actually excite you in bed.”

Per usual, it was difficult to determine where Veronica’s humor ended and her honest observations began. Still, she wasn’t wrong about us being in a bit of a lull in the bedroom lately.

I blushed and looked away, hoping the young woman I had been targeting didn’t overhear her.

We had just left the apartment and had gotten off the elevator in the lobby when we encountered her. She had just left the building herself. I was already wondering if she lived here, as I had never seen her before.

“She’s new here,” Veronica said, showcasing her remarkable knack for reading my mind at the most inopportune times. “Her name is Ashley, if you can believe it.”

Again, Veronica knew me far too well. A spot-on observation that a pretty name like that, attached to a pretty face like hers, was like catnip to me.

“You know her?” I asked as we left the building. I scanned the surrounding area for another glimpse of her, but she seemed to be gone.

“I don’t know her,” she said. “I’ve met her. In the lobby, checking her mail. Just yesterday, in fact. She’s new to the building.” For a moment, that seemed like all she had to say, but with a sigh, she added: “I was going to bring it up yesterday, but I had a bad feeling about you getting all...hormonal.”

I scoffed at this, shaking my head. “Come on now, Vee. She’s got to be, what, 10 years younger than us? Not to mention that I’m, you know, married?”

“So?”

“Don’t go assuming that everytime I see another pretty girl, it means I’m going to leave you.”

She laughed. “Jaime, dear, I would love it if you did. I just don’t think you’re her type.”

“Her type? And what do you mean by that? I’m good looking! I’m smart! Just last week you told me I could pass for a young Josh Brolin.”

“You could literally be Josh Brolin and I don’t think it’d help you much.”

“And what makes you say that?” I asked.

She shrugged and smiled innocently.

“Oh come on. Just say it. Why don’t you think I could have a chance with a girl like that, hmm?”

She laughed again and shook her head. “Look, I don’t know. I’m just speculating,” she said. “But I’m rarely wrong about these sorts of things. And I can tell with a good amount of certainty that she’s…”

“What?” I interrupted. “Into tall guys? Into men her own age? Into men with beards?”

“...not into men at all.”

My eyes widened in surprise and I stopped walking for a moment. Realizing that Veronica had kept going, I quickly jogged back up to her side again.

“Y-you’re sure about that?” I asked.

“Pretty sure. Sorry to break it to you, loverboy,” she said, playfully swatting my chest.

--

If asked, I doubt either of us would say our marriage was terrible. We still slept in the same bed. We still made it a point to eat most of our meals together. We still held conversations and made plans to do things with each other. But whatever spark was supposed to be there had seemingly been snuffed out a while ago. There were times when we could deal with that, and there were times we couldn’t.

It was guilt, I imagine, that kept us together some days. For a long time, we had done a decent enough job keeping up with a long distance relationship - emailing and calling often and taking the train to see each other every other weekend or so. Then she floated the idea of me moving to the city with her. She had her eyes on a gorgeous apartment that was just out of range of her salary. But with two salaries?

She, now, felt guilt for having dragged me to the city and for having me, essentially, reboot my life. I felt guilty that I had agreed to such a plunge, only to fail her as the husband she expected.

Something had to give, and it perpetually felt like something was about to.

It would be another week until I saw Ashley again. Once again in the lobby, at the mailboxes, as we serendipitously checked ours at the same time.

“Oh, hey,” I said, tempering my emotions the best I could. ‘You’re...new here?”

“Yeah,” she replied with a casual toss of her straightened auburn hair over her shoulder. “Just last month. I’m Ashley!”

“I’m Jaime,” I said, sticking my hand out between us. She grasped it and gave it a gentle shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise! Where-abouts do you live in the building?”

“Third floor,” I said. “312, to be specific.”

“Get the hell out of here,” she said with a smile. “I’m on the fourth floor. 412!”

“Right above us...how about that.”

“Married?” she said, shifting her head to spy the ring on my finger. It broke my heart to have to establish this so soon. I would’ve killed for the chance to have feigned singlehood for a few more minutes.

“Indeed. Veronica - you might have met her?”

“That name is familiar,” she said with a smile. “I’ve met so many people recently, I apologize. It’s hard keeping everyone straight.”

“Of course, of course. What about… you? Husbands? Boyfriends?”

“Oh...no,” she said, blushing a little. “Just the single life for me.”

“Are you new to the city?”

She nodded.

“Well that’s good in a way,” I said. “It’s an open market out there for you.”

She laughed and shrugged. “It’d be nice to meet someone, I suppose. But I’ve been so busy unpacking and cleaning. And work…” She sighed. “It’s good just getting time for myself.”

I probably shouldn’t have said anything else. I should’ve just walked away. She could continue floating about my daydreams while I spotted her from time to time in the building. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would’ve been good enough.

But I had to open my mouth again. “Well, look. You’re new in town, and I know that’s a lot. Veronica and I would love to have you over for dinner sometime. If nothing else, you get to make two new friends. Two new friends who live incredibly close by.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, a genuine smile stretching across her face. “I...I have to admit that I’d actually like that. I could use that.”

“Yeah? Okay, perfect. What if we said...Friday night? Seven?”

“I could do that! And you’re sure that Veronica would be okay with that?”

“It was practically her idea,” I said with a shrug.

--

“What the hell were you thinking?” asked Veronica, hands on her hips.

“Well, I just…”

“I mean, I could certainly guess,” she continued. “But if you were truly dying to bone our cute new neighbor, I can’t see how inviting her to dinner with your wife was going to achieve that.”

“Has it occurred to you that maybe I’m just a nice person and I wanted to reach out to someone who is new in town and might be needing some friends?”

She shrugged, scoffing. “No, that did not occur to me. When given the choice between thinking with your heart and thinking with your dick...well, I think we both know which you’d go with.”

It hadn’t been the first time she had levied such an accusation at me. For good reason, perhaps. While I hadn’t ever been caught with my pants down, our short-lived foray into having an open relationship fell apart after she found herself wanting the same romantic attention I seemed to afford everyone but her.

“I have no ulterior motive,” I assured her. “Just you and me and her, eating dinner and talking. We always say we could use more friends, right?”

She sighed. “I’ll play along with your little charade,” she said. “But I’m telling you right now - if I see so much as a wink in her direction, you’re going to have to ask her if you can sleep at her place.”

Admittedly, I was a little nervous. I didn’t think I was actually going to be able to flirt my way into Ashley’s heart, nor did I think she would let me. But so little thought had gone into my little dinner invitation that I wasn’t sure what we were actually going to do. Would Veronica and I actually be able to entertain her? Would we have anything in common at all? A disastrous night could result in lord-knows how many years of awkward interactions in the lobby as we said polite “hellos” and “good-byes.”

--

When I greeted her at our door that night, I just about bit off and swallowed my tongue when I saw her. It was the cutest dress I had ever seen - cream colored with pastel pink accents. Maryjanes? A fucking bow in her hair?

I swore - I was positive - that Veronica had put her up to this. She had to have. This was all an elaborate prank. Worse, it was somehow a sting operation to prove that I was an unfaithful sleazebag.

“You look lovely,” I said.

“Aw, thank you,” she said with an innocent shrug. “I just kind of, you know, threw on whatever I had lying around.” There was a brief enough pause to have me suspect that it wasn’t completely sincere when she said: “I like your tie!”

“Ashley!” Veronica’s sing-song greeting rang through the entire apartment as she swooped in from the kitchen to greet our visitor as well. “I’m so glad you made it! Gosh, that is an absolutely adorable dress. Don’t you think so, Jaime?”

“Mmhm,” I said. “Very much so.”

She knew what she was doing. She always did.

“Thank you so much. You look terrific as well,” Ashley said. The two met for a brief friendly hug. “I love your home! It’s so nice! So...mature. Unlike my place...it feels like I’m living in a box fort.”

“Well thank you,” Veronica said. “One of us has a little addiction to the pottery barn.” She proceeded to point to herself.

“For what it’s worth,” I said, “I think living in a box fort would be pretty fun.”

The women offered polite laughs, but it seemed a little forced. Not every joke is going to land, I told myself. Just make sure the next one is better.

“Why don’t you join me in the kitchen,” Veronica said to Ashley. “Dinner’s almost ready, and I could use some company while I get things out of the oven.”

“Is there anything I can help with?” asked Ashley.

“I’ll need you to take the glass of wine that I give you. And I’ll need you to enjoy it.”

“Oh gosh, I hope I’m up to the task,” Ashley said with a giggle.

The two went to the kitchen, leaving me behind. For a moment, I stood there, dumbstruck by what just happened. Was...Veronica flirting with her? Had Ashley been flirting back?

--

Once upon a time, I asked Veronica for something. It had been a little idea; a scenario that had been rolling around in my head for long enough. The sort of thing that I should’ve workshopped  more on my own time, but I instead thought I’d say out loud for the first time as I pitched it to Veronica.

She let me down gently. She simply wasn’t interested in putting me in a diaper, watching me crawl around, and feeding me a bottle.

She had assured me that she harbored no resentment towards me for having those thoughts. “People like all sorts of strange things,” she said. But she didn’t want to experience those particular things. Not even as a favor to me.

To her credit, it never came up again. In the years since - in all the arguments and misunderstandings we had weathered - never once had it been thrown back at me. She never called me a freak. She never made me feel like I was disgusting for wanting such a thing.

It simply was never mentioned. Somedays I even wondered if we had had that conversation at all, or if I just imagined it.

The fantasy, as one could imagine, never went away. Those sorts of desires never really do. They linger and they imbed themselves somewhere in your mind. Weeks could go by without thinking about it. Then, one day while you’re at the gym or while you’re cutting an onion - BAM - you’re daydreaming about crawling around in a diaper.

I had no evidence to support this, and Veronica had even gone out of her way to try and convince me that I hadn’t caused any harm to our relationship by making my request, but I’ve always seen that moment as the start of our relationship’s downward turn. The moment where, if nothing else, we both realized that we wanted different things in life and that there were firm lines that we wouldn’t be willing to cross for each other.

It was probably also the moment that she began to incessantly tease me for my adoration of all things “cute.”

--

“...and so I looked him in the eye, and told him that he absolutely, under no circumstances, could ‘taste the cat.’”

We all laughed. A genuine heartfelt laugh - even me. It was one of Veronica’s best stories, and no matter how many times I heard it, it never failed to get a good reaction out of me. Ashley, of course, was absolutely tickled.

“This food…” Ashley said, finishing a forkful, “...is so good. Veronica, are you a professional chef?”

“Ten years of the best culinary school there is,” she responded proudly.

“She means YouTube,” I said.

“Incredible. I’m a complete klutz in the kitchen. Like, completely helpless. It doesn’t help that I eat like a toddler. I swear, I eat chicken tenders so often that I’m amazed I haven’t somehow turned into a chicken.”

Veronica gave a playful chuckle and turned to me. That smile. You liked that, didn’t you, it seemed to say.

When I wasn’t speaking during dinner, I was daydreaming about taking her by the hand and leading her to the bedroom where we’d roll around the bed together for a few hours.

No doubt Veronica’s marital-telepathy was well aware of that.

“So you’ve just moved here. Tell us about that,” Veronica said, twirling her fork in some pasta. “What brings you here?”

“Work, of course,” she said with a shrug. “It was one of those job offers I couldn’t turn down - graphic design for a pretty big online retailer. Even if they only keep me for a month, I’ll be happy to have it on my resume.”

“I didn’t know designers were paid so well,” I said.

Veronica shot me a frustrated glance. As she should have - I was being a little snotty, perhaps on account of feeling like the third wheel for a night that I had arranged.

“Oh...like the apartment?” Ashley replied. Her tone seemed innocent - thankfully she hadn’t picked up on my snark. “I lucked out there. When my father found out I got a job in the city, he helped find me this place. I...hope that it doesn’t make me look too spoiled.”

We were reminded that we were a decade older than cute little Ashley. There was an obvious innocence and naivete about her that was almost too charming.

“Not at all,” Veronica said. “A girl has to eat, yes?”

Ashley nodded enthusiastically, downing some more wine.

I could see it playing out right before my eyes. The young and curious Ashley getting swept under the wing of the experienced picture of womanhood that was Veronica. I shouldn’t have been annoyed - I should be happy for both of them. Yet I was absolutely green.

The night felt like a series of errors on my part. I failed to chime in enough during the conversations at the dinner table. I failed to keep up with their wine drinking. I offered to clear the table and clean the dishes, while they spent more time talking and giggling together in the living room.

In a desperate, and foolish, attempt at quickly catching up with the women, I quickly downed some scotch just after finishing the dishes. I sauntered out to the living room, finding them already deep in a conversation I had no context for.

“...and you can just see it in his eyes, you know?” Ashley said with exaggerated hand waves.

“Ugh, disgusting,” Veronica said, seemingly engaged and invested in whatever story this was. “You probably want to trust him. You want this guy - this leader - to be the role model. But…”

“He’s a creep,” Ashley said with a nod. “Exactly. And I’m thinking - hoping - that I’m just imagining things. This guy is supposed to be my advisor, you know? The last thing I want is this awkward energy in the room. But - no. While sitting across the desk from me, I’m literally watching his hand slide into his pants…”

“No! No, he did not!”

Ashley nodded, while Veronica shot another furrowed brow in my direction. Was that supposed to be a poignant lesson for me? Something about not being a creepy older man?

I was annoyed. Worse, I had accidentally overstepped in my quest to get tipsy and had moved straight ahead to just being drunk.

I was always a tired drunk.

I interjected and contributed when I could, but I was getting less and less relevant to the conversation. No matter how hard I tried to put my best foot forward with Ashley - even though I had no idea to what ends I was even making this effort - she and Veronica had power-bonded in an incredibly short time.

There was little else to do but...slowly...fall...asleep.

I began to stir a little later, still sitting in the recliner in the living room. My senses were slowly coming back to me, and everything seemed fuzzy and blurred. I was still inebriated.

I heard a sound in the kitchen. It was soft and strangely...harmonious? I tried to think of what it could be. The fridge certainly never made that noise.

Neither Veronica or Ashley were on the couch anymore. I opened my mouth to call out for them, but I resisted. I had likely already made a fool of myself by falling asleep on the chair - I probably didn’t need to start calling out their names like a lost child.

Instead, I got up and walked closer to the kitchen in an effort to investigate the noise. My foggy brain tried to translate the sounds, but to no avail. They started. They stopped. The tone changed.

It was only as I almost neared the doorway into the kitchen that it suddenly occurred to me what it was. The sound of passion. No wonder it seemed so foreign to me.

I crept along the wall to the door, listening carefully. Little moans and groans mingling with the sound of wet lips smacking against each other. I poked my head around the corner, finding that Veronica had Ashley pinned in the corner of the counters, their arms slowly caressing each other's bodies as they made out.

“You’re such a good girl,” Veronica said. It was a tender tone that I wasn’t sure I had ever heard before.

“I want to be a good girl,” Ashley answered. “The best girl.”

“I can tell.”

“Thank you for having me over, Veronica.”

“No need to thank me,” Veronica cooed. “Now, why don’t you call me Mommy.”

“Yes, Mommy,” Ashley said before planting her lips on Veronica’s again.

Hello, and welcome to Neighbors, a new serialized story. This is the longest ABDL story I've written yet, and I'm very excited to start putting it out into the world. This story is over 20 chapters long and will be published weekly - for all patrons.

Eventually, I'll be posting these chapters on some other ABDL sites too (Daily Diapers, Tumblr, Reddit are the ones I have in my mind now). But you, my patrons, will be more than a month ahead of the public by that time.

Enjoy!