Lili and the Man Next Door

I live next door to a nice man whose wife passed away two years ago. I've known Mr. Keller my whole life, I think. I'm in college now, I'm 22 years old, but I still living with my parents. That's how I can afford college.

I'm social, sort of. I like people. I just can't stand hanging with people my own age. I guess I'm an old soul or something. I'd rather hang out with my parents, and their friends. Or neighbors, in the case of Mr. Keller. He is a friend of my parents, but a neighbor-friend, not a let's get-together-for-a-BBQ friend.

I work a little more than half-time for a local coffee place. I'm a barista at Perk Up! ... I make drinks for our customers. Which is how I keep seeing the neighbor man. I see Mr. Keller at Perk Up! maybe once a week. We always smile and wave to one another. Well, Mr. Keller doesn't smile as much since his wife passed.

This morning, at Perk Up!, we even spoke to one another, as he waited for me to make his to-go latte.

"Hi, Lili," said Mr. Keller. "How's life?"

"Busy, Mr. Keller," I said. "With school and work."

"Call me Bill," he said.

"That feels funny," I said. "Bill - you're like even older than my parents!"

"I am," said Mr. Keller ... Bill. "I'm as old as dirt."

"Hey! I didn't say that," I cried. "It's just that you've always been Mr. Keller, like my whole life."

"Now, maybe I can be Bill," said Bill. "OK?"

"OK," I said. "Here's your latte."

"Thanks, Lili," said Bill, and turned to go. Something pushed me to say something more.

"Hey, Bill," I said. He turned back and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Lili?" said Bill.

"You should, uh, stop in here more often and say hi," I said.

"Good promotion for Perk Up, Lili," laughed Bill.

"Oh, that, too," I smiled.

Bill smiled at me. I smiled back.

"I'll come in a bit more often," said Bill.

"I for sure work weekday mornings," I said.

"Then I'll for sure come in on weekday mornings, Lili," said Bill. "And say hi."

Bill came in two or three mornings each week, during the next month. Each time we chatted a little bit longer. Then I got really daring, and took my break while Bill was there. We sat together sipping our coffees.

"It's really nice of you to stop by and see me so often," I said.

"Keeping my coffee habit up, and keeping Perk Up! in business, I guess," said Bill.

"You could maybe be dropping in to see me, too," I said.

"Well, that, too, of course," smiled Bill.

"I think we've got pretty comfortable together," I said.

"Isn't that funny? That I enjoy visiting with the little girl next door," said Bill.

"And she enjoys visiting with you. And I'm all grown up now, if you hadn't noticed," I said.

"I noticed, Lili," smiled Bill, sipping his coffee.

"I was thinking maybe I could drop by sometime, just for a little visit," I said.

"You want to visit me?" asked Bill. He seemed genuinely surprised, taken aback.

"Sure," I said, feeling a little embarrassed. "I get the impression you're not super-busy these days, and I could use a break from thinking about schoolwork or work-work all the time."

"Wouldn't you rather hang out with people your own age?" asked Bill.

"Not really," I said.

"Well, sure," said Bill. "Come by anytime. I'd like that."

"OK," I said. "I will! See you later, Bill!"

"See you soon, I hope," said Bill. He actually smiled, then turned and walked out the door.

I was surprised at myself, putting myself forward like that with Mr. Keller. Bill, I have to remember he's Bill. William "Bill" Keller. I wonder if he has a middle name? I'll have to ask.

I'm just kind of interested in him, in Bill. I've known him so long, and he seems so sad and lonely now. He's always been a nice, kind man, to me. He's sort of comfortable looking. Bill reminds me of my Dad, but with more hair and less of a belly. He's lost weight in the last couple of years, for sure. I'll bet he's ten years older than Dad, who's 45. My Mom's 49.

And there's just something about Bill. I feel like I just want to be around him, near him. I've had boyfriends, a couple, but this doesn't feel exactly like that. But sort-of like that. I keep thinking about Bill Keller. A lot. Weird.

So why not go visit him, the nice neighbor man? It's not like I'm busy with anyone else.

I date. I do. Just not much. Boys think I'm kind of a geek, I think. I don't really want to party, and the other things the boys at school offer: earnest talk, eager for sex, whatever ... those aren't working for me.

And, true confessions time: Since I've been connecting with Bill Keller, I've found myself checking out porn online. A little twisted, I guess. I'm a self-conscious about it. But I still do it. I look for girls who look like me: thin, pale ... I guess a little waif-like. And I like it when I find videos of sex with girls like me and older men. I mean, really older, like old enough to be my Dad. Which is creepy, because I really don't want to have sex with my Dad.

But Bill Keller. Even older than my Dad. He's started featuring in my fantasies. Also twisted, but more OK than imagining my own father or something. It's strange thinking about this old guy in that way. But OK-strange, not OMG-strange, for me. I really like Bill. And the more I fantasize about him, the more I like him.

So, I say again, why not visit the nice neighbor man? See if there's anything there? We seemed comfortable together, and I always look forward to seeing him.

After I got home from school the next day, I walked down our front walk, and up the path to the Keller house, Bill's house. It was a warm day. I was wearing a red t-shirt, loose black shorts, and flip-flops. I knocked on the door, waited a little, then it opened, and Bill was there. Black polo, tan shorts, bare feet. His brown hair was a little long, flopping down in the front so that he had to sweep it off his tortoise shell round glasses and back over his forehead.

"Oh, hi, Lili," said Bill. "What's up?"

"I just came over for that visit," I said. "Is now an OK time?"

"Oh," said Bill.

"You didn't think I'd really drop by, did you?" I asked

"To tell you the truth ... " began Bill.

"Never mind. Are you like crazy busy, or do you have time for a visit?" I asked.

"Oh, sure," said Bill. "Come on in."

I entered. I'd only been in the house a few times before, I realized. Bill closed the door, and said, "Come on through here, we can sit in the living room."

I followed him through his tidy home, into a tasteful, comfortable living room.

"Have a seat," said Bill. "Anywhere is fine."

I sat in an easy chair with a footstool in front of it.

"Put your feet up, if you like," said Bill. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Do you have wine?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," said Bill. "I forget that you're over 21, Lili. White or red?"

"A dry white to start would be nice," I said. "Thanks, Bill."

He disappeared, to the kitchen, I guess. I kicked off my flip flops and put me feet up on the footstool. Bill soon returned with two glasses and a full bottle of white wine, an unoaked Chardonnay, as it turned out. He poured us each a glass, set the bottle on the coffee table nearby, and down on the sofa opposite me.

"Cheers!" said Bill.

"Cheers!" I returned. "Here's to new old friends!"

"Me and you?" asked Bill, sipping his wine and setting the glass beside him on a little table.

"Of course!" I said. I sipped the cold, dry, citrusy wine, and held it between my palms to warm it a bit.

"The wine is too cold," said Bill. "Sorry about that."

"It'll soon warm up," I said. "I like to get the aroma."

"Right," said Bill.

"I know a little bit about wine. I worked in a wine bar, last year, after I turned 21," I said.

"I like wine. I'm interested in wine," said Bill.

"Me, too! See how much we have in common?" I said.

Bill just laughed.

"This is a nice room, Bill," I observed. "It's comfortable, and more masculine than I expected."

"I re-did things a little," said Bill. "After Marion, you know ... "

"Ah," I said. "You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want."

"It's OK," said Bill. "I'm not going to weep or anything. And I don't mind talking about Marion. I just wanted to do something, change something, after."

"That makes sense," I said. "I still like the room."

"Thanks," said Bill. "So, Lili, what do you want to visit about?"

"It's out of the blue, I know," I said. "I figured you're probably lonely, I know I'm lonely, and I like you, so, I thought, check and see if he likes me, and we won't be so lonely!"

"Oh," said Bill. "What about people your own age?"

"I'm not interested in people my own age," I said. "Be honest if you don't like me."

"Of course, I like you, Lili," said Bill.

"Enough to spend some time with me?" I asked.

"Doing what?" asked Bill.

"Whatever," I said. "We could just hang out ... talk, watch TV, have dinner, drink wine, go for walks, whatever."

"You want to do those things with me?" asked Bill, looking confused.

"Well, maybe," I said. "We haven't done anything yet, so we don't really know, do we? But I think I'd like hanging with you."

"What do you like about me?" asked Bill.

"You're kind, you're handsome, you're clever, and funny, when you want to be," I said. "I like that you're more mature ... I'm more comfortable with that."

"Oh," said Bill. "Well, thank you, Lili."

"You're welcome," I said. "I'm just being honest. Oh, I like your hair, your longish brown hair, your warm brown eyes. I like your hands, and the way you keep your nails. I see a lot of hands over the counter at Perk Up! so I know what I'm talking about. And now, seeing you in shorts, I can say I like your legs."

Bill laughed and shook his head. He rose and refilled our wine glasses, then sat down again facing me.

"Is there anything you like about me, Bill?" I asked. "Your turn!"

Bill looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, then, "I like your short, dark hair. In my day, we would call that a pixie cut."

"We still call it that," I said. "Thanks."

"Your eyes are a very vivid blue, and I like your pale skin," said Bill. "Any tattoos?"

"No skin art," I said. "Just my very pale, pasty skin."

"I like it," said Bill. "I like how long and lean you are, and your thick dark eyebrows, and the dark hair on your arms."

"Lanky, that's me," I said. "Long and straight. And too much dark hair. If I didn't shave my legs, I'd look like a gorilla!"

Bill laughed. "I like your length and leanness, and I like a woman with a bit of hair."

"That's good," I said. "But am I too young for you? To hang out with?"

"If you're looking for a husband, I'd say yes, you're too young for me," said Bill.

"I'm not," I said. "Not right now, anyway. I'm not looking for a husband."

"I was kidding," said Bill. "I'd never be able to explain that to your parents."

"If we ever need to explain anything to Mom and Dad, I'll take care of that," I said, boldly.

"Your youthful energy and optimism is invigorating, Lili." said Bill.

"Well, I think we like each other just fine, from the sounds of things," I said. "So, can we hang out together, and see how it goes?"

"Sure," said Bill, with a sheepish grin. "My dance card is open."

"Cool!" I said. "There's a movie I'd like to watch ... want to watch it together tonight? Do you do streaming?"

"Yes, I have streaming video," said Bill. "And, sure, it would be fun to watch a movie together."

"I'll order pizza!" I said. "What kind to you like?"

"Well, anything, I guess," said Bill. "I like anchovies, but I don't like pineapple."

"We're golden!" I said. "Me, too. You're on the popcorn and beverages, OK, Bill?"

Bill laughed. It was a nice sound. "Sure, OK," he said.

I ordered pizza, which was delivered pretty quick, like 45 minutes later. Bill made some popcorn, and brought out a bottle of red, an Argentinian Malbec, after we killed the Chardonnay.

I was a little nervous about the movie: "Paddington." It was probably too young for Bill, but I really liked it. Bill said he liked it, too. That it was surprisingly heart-felt. I agree.

I didn't want to watch something too violent or romantic or sexy or anything. Sort of like a first date, checking out the landscape.

"Well, I really like that movie, Bill. I hope it wasn't to juvenile for you," I said.

"I thought so at first, but I liked it, too, Lili," said Bill.

"Maybe we can get together for movies, once or twice a week?" I asked. I didn't figure he'd want to go out with me ... that would probably be too much.

"Sure, I think that would be nice," said Bill.

So, we began to spend a couple of evenings each week, watching movies, eating take-out drinking wine. Nothing very intimate, but we started hugging when I arrived and when I left. I even let my good-bye hugs linger a little, and Bill let me.

I still can't believe how forward I was with Bill. He was too much older than me! He knew it. I knew it. And somehow it just didn't matter. I was really interested in Bill, and I wanted him interested in me, in every way. Not just fun with a friend, but I wanted him to be attracted to me. Because I was increasingly attracted to him.

After a few weeks of innocuous movies ... mostly light adventure and rom-coms, I picked "Crooked House," an Agatha Christie all-star cast movie. It was OK, but I had decided to raise our relationship stakes, when I could. So, I paused the movie when Christina Hendricks' character was on-screen.

"She's a big girl!" I said.

"Yeah, but she's pretty," said Bill.

"You like her?" I asked.

"Well, I think she's attractive," said Bill.

"That's the office manager lady from Mad Men," I said.

"I recognize her," said Bill.

"She has really big boobs," I said.

"I guess so," said Bill, blushing.

"Bill?" I asked. "Do men prefer big boobs?"

"Whoa, Lili!" said Bill. "That came out of nowhere."

"Well, you said you found her attractive, she's popular, she has big boobs ... a really voluptuous figure ... and I wondered," I said.

"OK, well, easy answer: No, not all men prefer big breasts. But I can say that in general, groups of guys seem interested in big breasts. They're less likely to specify that preference when on their own."

"That's weird," I said. "Why, do you think?"

"Because there's a cultural undercurrent in favor of big chested woman. Maybe it's some kind of mother complex, I don't know," said Bill. "I do know that bragging about preferring smaller breasts is likely to get a guy laughed at."

"Even if that's what he prefers?"

"Silly, isn't it?" said Bill.

"Do you prefer smaller breasts?" I asked.

"Oh, Lili!" sighed Bill.

"Mine are pretty small," I said. "They sag down a little, and I wear a bra because my nipples stick out too much,"

"I like you just fine without your having to tell me that, Lili!" protested Bill.

"In case you ever wonder about my breasts," I said. "Now you might recognize them if you see them."

Bill laughed.

"I'd be more comfortable, sometimes, hanging out, if I didn't have to wear a bra," I said. "Would that be a problem for you, Bill?"

He didn't answer for a moment. Oh, God! Had I gone too far too fast?

"If you're more comfortable, it's not a problem for me, Lili," said Bill.

"You can advise me on the look, as a friend," I said.

"Right!" laughed Bill.

"Just don't avert your eyes, Bill!" I warned. "You might like the way I look!

He kept laughing. I restarted the movie. And I gave Bill a tighter, longer hug when we said good-bye.

But when I was back at his place a few evenings later, he didn't laugh. He stared. I'd come without my bra and wearing quite a light t-shirt on this warm evening. My breasts aren't large, but they do sag. And my plump nipples do jut out, really jut out through the light fabric of this shirt.

"What're you staring at?" I asked, as I slipped past him into his house.

"You just surprised me, that's all," said Bill quickly.

"Well, I'm way more comfortable, I said. "This is great in the warm weather. Sometimes underwear is just a bit much in the heat."

"Right, right," said Bill.

"So, is this OK? With no bra?" I asked.

"Men will look, Lili," said Bill.

"But I don't have big breasts," I protested.

"Men will look," said Bill.

"So, is that a bad thing, do you think, Bill?" I asked.

"I just think you should be careful," said Bill.

"Would you look?" I asked.

"I did look," said Bill.

"And I didn't mind that at all," I said.

"I shouldn't ... look," said Bill.

"Why not? I said I don't mind. And it's not as if you could miss how I ... stick out. Or maybe you just find my ... chest ... unattractive. You'd like a bustier girl, woman," I said.

"It's not any of that, Lili. It's that I find you too attractive, in a way I really shouldn't. You're the little girl next door!" said Bill.

"I like that you think I'm attractive, Bill. I think you're attractive, too," I said.

"That's just silly," said Bill.

"And I'm not a little girl, Bill, even if I am younger than you," I said.

"A lot younger than me," said Bill.

"Is the Chinese food here already?" I asked.

"Well, yes. It's in the kitchen, ready to serve," said Bill.

"Let's get the food and start the movie," I said.

When we sat down with our plates of food and glasses of wine I turned to Bill, and found his eyes dropping down to my nipples and back up, really quickly.

"It's OK to look, Bill. I'm flattered," I said.

"I shouldn't," said Bill, looking fixedly at the TV screen. He started the movie.

"I like it that you're checking me out," I said.

I patted his hand and let mine rest on his for a moment. He didn't move away, until he reached for his glass a couple of minutes later.

And I know he took a few more peeks at my chest. I was kind of turned on, so my nipples were pretty hard. I tried to keep myself turned towards him, to make peeking easier.

Of course, I had to try raising the stakes again. Otherwise, this seduction could take forever!

But first, an interlude with my parents. A discussion at supper.

Mom: "You've been seeing a lot of Bill Keller lately, Lili."

Me: "I have. We've been watching movies and eating take-out."

Dad: "Bill Keller's a good guy. Sort of old, for you to be hanging out with, I would have thought."

Mom: "So sad, when Marion Keller passed away, so suddenly, so young!"

Me: "I know that really hit him hard. And he is older, but we get along great."

Dad: "Bill's probably lonely."

Me: "Less lonely, I think, since we started hanging out."

Mom: "Be careful, honey. Men have ... needs ... and I noticed you're not always wearing a bra, so he must be able to see your ... "

Me: "It's OK, Mom. Bill's not going to take advantage of me. And women have needs, too, you know."

Dad, laughing: "Marion Keller was really built! I'd be surprised if Bill gave Lili a second look."

Mom: "That's mean, dear."

Dad: "Sorry, but Marion reminded me of an older version of that secretary woman on Mad Men."

Me: "Christina Hendricks?"

Dad: "That's her!"

My heart sank a little.

Dad: "If Bill Keller thinks Lili's attractive, he'd think you're attractive, too!"

Me and my Mom are physically alike. She's older, of course.

Mom: "Maybe he does! I wouldn't mind."

Me: "Geez, Mom!"

Mom: "What? I'm not allowed to feel attractive? And, anyway, I'm just worried about you."

Me: "It's OK, really."

Dad: "Besides, Lili's an adult. She can make her own decisions."

Me: "Thanks, Dad."

Mom: "I know that. But mothers worry! It's natural."

Dad: "What's the worst that can happen?"

Mom: "What if Lili got pregnant?"

Me: "Mom, I'm on the pill."

Dad: "Let's not make trouble where none exists."

Me: "Thanks, Dad."

Mom: "Just be careful, please, Lili. I don't want you to get hurt, and I don't want Bill Keller hurt either. The poor man's been through so much heartache already."