Free Fluffing My Neighbor (Neighbor Erotica, Oral, Virgin) by Sienna Valentine

I would do
anything for the Thompsons. After all, I've been living next door
to them for a couple years and I almost think of them like family,
even often babysitting their kids after school before one of their
parents gets home. They were nicer to me than my own family, and
ever since I moved next door to them I've been happier. Their kids
are great, too. Both of them are under ten but it's been pretty
neat to watch them grow up in the last couple of years. They're
lucky to have parents that are still together and love them. My own
family split up years ago and it was pretty hard on me. I wouldn't
wish that on anyone.
    Mrs. Thomson
has always been good to me, too. She was a beautiful woman when Mr.
Thompson married her, and from the pictures I've seen she was
beautiful for years after that as well. Not that I think she isn't
beautiful now... but... how can I put this? She's put on a few
pounds.
    Mr. Thompson,
though, bless his heart, has never said one word about it. Not to
my knowledge, anyway. He still treats her like a proper lady and
talks to her sweetly. Whenever I'm around I seem him giving her
little kisses, she certainly isn't ignored. He's good with his
kids, as well, and often he'll start playing or horsing around with
them as soon as he comes home, at least when he gets home early
enough that they're still awake. In truth, I see him a lot more
than Mrs. Thompson because of their work schedule and he and I have
a pretty good relationship.
    I've also
developed a pretty close connection with Becky, their nine year old
daughter and she's come to confide in me over the last year. She
knows she can talk to me about anything and I won't rat her out to
her parents. Not unless it was something really serious, anyway. I
could tell something was bothering her one day when I was putting
her to bed, her parents still at work, and so I asked her what was
up.
    "I'm just
worried about my Mom and Dad," she said.
    "How come,
Beck?"
    "Well, in the
past, when I was little, I could sometimes hear them at night in
their bedroom making all sorts of noises, carrying on and
hollerin'. When I was young, I wasn't sure what was going on but
now I know what they were doing."
    "You do?" I
asked, raising my eyebrow.
    "We take
sex-ed in school and I'm not a baby," she said firmly.
    "That's true,
you're not," I agreed with a smile.
    "Anyway...
lately my Mom hasn't been going in there much anymore, at least not
when Dad goes to bed. When she does, I don't hear hardly any sounds
at all. I'm kinda worried about that, since my friends at school
say they still hear their folks doing it."
    "Well, maybe
they're just being quiet about it now," I suggested. "Maybe they
known their room is next to a little snoop," I teased.
    Becky smiled
but I could tell it was forced. "A couple times," she continued,
"when Mom did follow Dad into the bedroom she came out not long
after. I snuck out of my room and followed her downstairs. When I
peeked into the kitchen, I saw her crying in front of a big bowl of
ice cream."
    I wasn't sure
what to say, so I just sat there for a moment.
    "The thing is,
I know that sometimes when a man and woman do it it's called making love . So if mom and dad aren't making love, does that
mean they don't love each other anymore?"
    I shook my
head. "I'm sure it's nothing, Beck. But I'll tell you what. What
your dad comes home tonight, I'll have a talk with him. Not sure
what I'll say, exactly, but I'll feel out the situation and let you
know if I find anything out. But I'm sure it's nothing. Sometimes
grown-ups just go through phases in their relationships. That's all
it is. I'm sure things will be back to normal in no time."
    Becky smiled
and thanked me, and I gave her a quick peck on the forehead before
I left to let her get to sleep.
    When Mr.
Thompson came home later that night I waited until he had taken his
shoes off and got himself a drink, as he often did, before I
approached him.
    "Hi Mike," I
said, as I walked into the kitchen. Mr.