My Pretty Neighbor Miss May

On a sunny afternoon ten years ago, when I was still in elementary school, I saw my neighbor Miss May’s body.

Of course, you should not assume that I have been a hooligan ever since I was a kid. This was a complete misunderstanding.

My relatives came to my house that day. My mother, who was demonstrating her cooking skills in the kitchen, suddenly realized that we had run out of vinegar after cooking a dish. Thus, to deal with that kitchen emergency, I obeyed my mom’s order to borrow some vinegar from our neighbor.

I brought a small bowl to my neighbor’s house. As I was about to knock on the door, I realized that it had been left ajar. I went in, but could not find anyone at home until I pushed open a bedroom door gently.

A scene that astonished me appeared right in front of my eyes.

It was a bedroom filled with plenty of sunshine. On the bed lay a woman who was unclothed. She was just lying on the bed, striking a pose like a beautiful woman reclining on a couch. The sunlight shed on her smooth plump body was like gold sprinkling on her body.

The woman was Miss May. Although she is ten years older than I am, for unknown reasons, I have been calling her Miss May ever since I was young.

Opposite her, her boyfriend, who majored in fine arts, was sketching her figure with a pencil on the easel.

That was my first time witnessing an adult female body. Seeing that in front of me, I was left stunned and motionless.

Thinking back on the situation, at that time, I was not so much dumbfounded as I was taken aback by it all.

The two of them were also stunned. As our eyes looked at each other, time seemed to have stood still.

It was not until the bowl in my hand fell onto the ground and broke into pieces that they finally came into their senses.

I turned around and fled, forgetting that my mom was anxiously waiting for the vinegar at home. I had also forgotten to close their door before rushing out into the neighborhood.

Later, she seemed to have disappeared. She probably did not move somewhere, as her mom was still living there, but I never saw her anymore.

Of course, as you know, she would not disappear from my life forever. Every night when I was feeling restless, she would appear in my mind. I would picture her in all kinds of poses. The only thing that never changed was that she was always undressed.

I never imagined that I would meet Miss May again ten years later, and especially not under those circumstances.

......

That day, I was invited out for drinks by Zach Sanders and Mark Newman at a newly opened nightclub named 2 on Cedar Street.

We were squeezed among a group of hot and beautiful men and women, bobbing our heads to the music while vibing to the tsunami-like heaty atmosphere.

Amidst the crowd of flashing lights, I inadvertently saw a vaguely strange yet familiar face.

That face flashed from within the depths of the crowd.

All of a sudden, I had an electric sensation. That person looked like Miss May!

I quickly walked through the huge crowd and headed in her direction.

However, when I arrived, I never saw her face again. Not even after looking around for a long time.

I assumed I had mistaken somebody else for her. When I was about to walk back to where I was, I was pushed onto the stage by the crowd suddenly. On the stage, a troupe of Russian models was performing lively dances with exaggerated figures, flirtatious dancing postures, and strong hips. It was all very exhilarating and overwhelming.

Under Zach and the other guests’ constant cheering, a sexy model danced with me cheek to cheek for a while. The energy and sweat on the Russian lady made me feel an upsurge of emotions.

We partied until late at night before we finally left the club. We smoked outside while waiting for the driver to arrive.

At that moment, we suddenly heard a woman’s scream. When we turned our heads to take a look, we saw a man hauling a woman back to the club at the entrance.

It was a beautiful young woman dressed in a sexy evening dress, a backless one, exuding great charms. As she was dragged by the man, her shoulder straps fell off, unveiling parts of her body. She was clearly drunk and powerless but, with whatever consciousness remained, was attempting to resist the man while screaming at the top of her lungs.

Zach was a police officer. When he saw this scene, he could not turn a blind eye to it. Besides, there were three of us in a group, so we walked over together.

The man was very buff. He had a crew cut, wore a tank top, his arms filled with black tattoos ‒ the kind that could scare people away.

Naturally, he dismissed our dissuasion and stood up to fight us.

Zach had been trained in self-defense. Plus, since we had more people on our side, the man was beaten to the ground in no time.

He was apparently dissatisfied and planned to get more people to help him. However, when Zach revealed his police badge, the man caved in and ran back inside with his tail between his legs.

When I helped the woman up and asked if she was alright, I was stunned and froze instantly.

The woman was not anyone. It was Miss May!

It turned out that I had not mistaken somebody else for her. It actually was her earlier.

I had never expected that I would meet Miss May again on such an occasion ten years later.

It might be hard for you to imagine the shock I experienced when a woman who had long stayed in my dreams and imagination unexpectedly appeared before my eyes.

Although her hair accessories and makeup were far different from before (she used to wear a ponytail, and now she had her straight shoulder-length hair, almost like a bob cut) what surprised me was that her appearance had not seemed to change with time.

I had also imagined a possibility where I would meet Miss May someday, perhaps years later. By that time, I would have grown up, while she would no longer be youthful, having become old-fashioned, unrecognisable, and disappointing.

What I did not expect at that time was that time would be very tolerant and kind to Miss May. Even after ten years had passed, time did not have the heart to take away her beauty.

Miss May was already unconscious, so asking her about her address and sending her back home would be futile effort. Since we already knew each other, I could only bring her back to my place. I lived alone after all.

My heart was thumping with excitement, but I pretended to be serious, as if I had no other choice but to trouble myself a little.

After the driver arrived, Mark’s car brought Miss May and I to my residence. He helped Miss May up into my home.

It was just Miss May and I at home after Mark left.

I had moved out of my parents’ place after graduation. This house was prepared for my marriage, so I had moved in early. Throughout this year, I had gotten used to living alone. Miss May’s sudden arrival tonight had transformed the atmosphere into a peculiar one.

Miss May lay on the couch in a provocative pose, while her body exuded the pungent odor of alcohol. She was totally unconscious. Just like Mark said, I had reached the state where I could do whatever I wanted. Her sexy evening gown had been torn to the point of being out of shape, which added more charm to her, and her beautiful stocking-clad legs were exposed to the air.

I did not know why Miss May had drunk so much alcohol.

It has been a long time since I had last seen someone this drunk. Her eyes were red and swollen, obviously she had cried earlier.

Of course, although I had had my heart set on Miss May for a long time, I was by no means a villain that takes advantage of others.

At the beginning, even though I was really excited, I behaved myself and planned to carry her into the bedroom, so she could sleep a little more comfortably. Other than that, I did not bear any extra thoughts.

I tidied the bedroom for Miss May, then got ready to carry her over to sleep.

When I carried her, that feeling was unreal. This was a scene I had imagined in my dreams numerous times!

Additionally, I found that Miss May was quite heavy. I was not sure if it was because of her plump figure, or if her drunkenness had made her gain a little weight.

Holding Miss May in my arms, I immediately recalled that image of her dazzling, fair figure on an afternoon ten years ago, and felt it was unreal. Miss May was completely intoxicated, with her head buried deep in my arms, as though she was a shy girl.

I really liked this feeling. It was almost like an ordinary woman was nestled in my arms, like a little bird resting upon a man.

Besides, as I lowered my head, I could see the over-the-top objects in front of her chest, white and massive, which made it hard for me to look away.

For that reason, I walked very slowly from the living room to the bedroom, it could literally be described as creeping.

If I had been able to carry her body any longer, I supposed I could hold her through the entire night. After all, I had no worries about her waking up suddenly. Even if she woke up, she would not know how long I had carried her for. I could pretend that I had just picked her up at that moment.

Feeling reluctant, I placed her on the bed, and covered her up with a blanket.

Then I realized, that was all I could do. There did not seem to be any excuse or reason for me to stay on any longer.

This made me feel a little disappointed, but staying here made me feel like I was a rogue and my action was unjustifiable from a moral perspective.

Eventually, at every step, I turned to look back repeatedly, as though my legs had been filled with lead.

As I walked to the door, I discovered that Miss May’s heels were not taken off yet.

Whoops, this was not good. Someone had said before that wearing heels to sleep was not good for women’s health.

Although I could not recall who had made that statement, right at that moment, I thought what the person said was reasonable, totally reasonable.

Then I walked over hastily, held her beautiful stocking-wrapped leg gently, and took one of her heels off, inch by inch.

Women’s legs are absolutely attractive, especially of a gorgeous lady like Miss May. The silhouette of the calf and the shape of the foot were simply the standard requirements for a beautiful leg. With the adornment of black stockings, a woman’s leg emanated a kind of attraction that was mysterious.

Holding Miss May’s stunning leg, I appreciated it like an art piece, feeling reluctant to let it go.