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Amazon Next Door - Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2020-11-19 20:39:47 +0000 UTCChapter 1
There’s nothing like turning the key to your new apartment. The way a door goes from a solid slab of wood blocking all who try to enter to a welcoming gateway to your humble abode is a thing of beauty, but especially so when it’s your first time. For all my apartment knew, I may have never lived anywhere before. I could have been a virgin, as far as sleeping in a room goes. And if we were talking rooms I’ve slept in that weren’t my parents’ house, I guess I was a virgin. Indeed, this was my first apartment, I was a fresh 18, and I was breaking out into the world.
Maybe I was in over my head, maybe I was feeling bold. But here I was, in the city, in the young people part of town, where everything was happening, as someone from the 50’s might say. All of the stores were youth oriented, everyone was going to college, as was I, and everyone was working a part time job. We were all elbow to elbow, just scraping by, trying to make it. There was something romantic about that, just trying to make it. I think that’s why I was so excited to move here.
The fresh scent of newly cleaned carpet wafted through my nostrils. I had it all, or I mean, technically, everything my parents had; a bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and somewhere to sleep. There, in the corner, is where my TV was going to go. And in front of it, a nice two seater couch. A coffee table? Did I need one? I was trying to think if I ever used a coffee table at home. To eat sandwiches and burritos, yes. Okay, coffee table it is. Cheap though, we’re on a budget now. The kitchen had a fridge, an oven, a stove, some cabinet space, and that was about it. I wasn’t a big guy, but even I was feeling somewhat cramped standing between the sink and the oven. Whatever, not like I cooked much anyways. As long as the fridge worked, I would be fine. I opened it just to check, the cold air blowing on my face. Check.
The bathroom was just as small, and even more barren. It’s easy to forget, living such a sheltered life at home, that bathrooms aren’t immediately equipped with everything. I was used to floor mats. None. Shower curtains. None. Soap dispensers. None. It was like looking at someone’s skeleton. You know where things SHOULD be, the eyes, the hair, but it’s not there and it’s uncomfortable. There was a very careful Target trip in my future.
I didn’t have a ton of money. I wouldn’t consider myself poor, especially having two parents in a relatively loving home, I had more than a lot of people, but I certainly wasn’t rich. My parents weren’t helping me much, and my job wasn’t setting the world on fire. I worked at a record store, which was chill since I pretty much listened to music all day, but the pay wasn’t where I wanted it (when is it ever?), and I figured I would have to leave, possibly sooner than later, to make more elsewhere. I had responsibilities now. I had rent, bills, like an adult.
I entered the bedroom, which was the most empty room of them all. This is where most of my time would be spent. This is where all my prized possessions would be. This is… there was nothing there. I knew immediately, I would need a bed. Beyond anything else, a bed was a requirement. This wasn’t a new revelation either; I had the cash ready for a full sized bed. As happy as I was to be here, in my brand new to me apartment, I knew I had to leave to get me a mattress.
The town was all hustle and bustle on this crisp Saturday morning. In this town, a lot of people worked on the weekends, as did I on occasion. It was nice to see people more my age; my hometown was very suburban, mostly families and people my parents’ age, boring. It was also worth mentioning that the female talent out here was fantastic! Not about to lie, part of the thrill of getting your own place as a young man was the idea, just the idea, that it was possible, to ask a girl to come back to your place. Because I had a place, my own little slice of the world where I called the shots. And for a young man of 18, that’s a pretty big deal.
I pulled into the parking lot for the mattress store. Is this what adults did? And why was I so excited. A piece of me wanted to punch myself in the stomach for being so excited with the mundane, but the other piece of me wanted to scold that piece for being immature. The windows to the store had bold painted signs planted all over the windows with great deals. Glad I could get one.
Inside, I was greeted by a saleswoman. “Hi,” she said with a smile. “Is this your first time buying a mattress?”
“How’d you guess,” I asked. She was a bit older, probably in her 30’s, but her persona was hip and fun, so I felt like I could be cool with her. That punch in the stomach couldn’t come quick enough.
“Oh, that’s the general clientele around here,” she laughed. “Also, you look like a baby is all. Anyways, what size of bed do you think you need?”
“Well, I sleep in a full at home, so that should be fine.”
She placed her hand on my shoulder. “I’m not going to tell you how to live your life,” she said with a sly grin. “But I strongly recommend you go one size higher. You never know in this town, you may end up wishing you had, I don’t know, a little more space on your bed.”
“But I’m only 5’5,” I replied, confused. She tapped her temple half winking at me. “Ohh… I think I get it. Yeah, I think you’re right. I’ll take a queen.”
“A wise choice,” she said, and she steered me into the store. After looking at everything, I settled on a model. Was it a little more than I intended to pay? Yes. Was I grifted into buying a more expensive bed? Probably. But I was young and naive, I felt like I was allowed to make that kind of mistake. Also, bigger is better, right?
The mattress and box frame were strapped to my car awkwardly, and I was able to drive them back to the apartment. Step 1 of becoming a man: buy a bed that is bigger than what you needed: Complete. That was a relief. I was really not looking forward to Step 2 though: Getting the mattress up to the second floor and into my bedroom. Yes, my apartment was on floor 2 of the building, meaning stairs would be a part of my moving journey.
I removed the straps holding it in place, but that was about as far as I got before I scratched my head and looked at it for a while. I had an idea, not a great idea, but an idea nonetheless. I hoist it onto my back, holding it from the bottom with my hands sort of backwards, and I just try to heave it up the stairs. Why not? Okay, being 5’5, weighing about 130 pounds, I was not in a great position to try anything strength related. But I didn’t really have a choice. I was on my own for this one. Fast forward to me wearing the bed like a backpack, I was ready to charge forward.
Approaching the first stair, I was already feeling wobbly. I braced myself and placed my foot on the step. That wasn’t so bad. I lifted up. It wasn’t necessarily the weight, though that most certainly played a role. It was the size, this mattress was just huge. I didn’t fall over, per se, but I could tell that lifting it at this rate was not realistic. Before I fell down the stairs, I decided to place it on the stairs so it was resting diagonally. Felt like progress, I guess.
From this new angle, there wasn’t really anything I could do except for try to lift it up horizontally and let it rest on my head. So that was what I did. And it was hard. Too hard. I wasn’t making much progress, and I prayed to the good lord above nobody was coming. Which made my heart break when I heard a door open and close, and some footsteps approaching.
“You look like you need some help,” I could hear from somewhere up the stairs. It was a girl’s voice. Not the highest pitch, but still pretty girly. Ugh, a cute girl living nearby, and she’s going to see my scrawny ass struggling with this too big bed.
I tried to tell her I was fine. I tried to tell her I didn’t need any help. All that came out was “ehh…” and immediately, the weight of the mattress disappeared, like, evaporated, into thin air. There was no weight anymore. I was holding it, in that my hands were gripping to it, but that’s where that ended. The bed itself was as light as a cloud. Together, we carried it up the stairs, as if it was nothing. I couldn’t believe it. Every step up was one step closer to admitting that I needed her help, and I was disappointed with myself. Wait, I could spin this. The wheels in my head were now turning. What if I said I had just gotten back from the gym? What if I was tired from all the heavy lifting I did earlier? She would be impressed with me, and maybe we could segue that into something… more?
Okay, this was brilliant. What did I work out? What would make this thing hard to lift? My arms? My arms were holding it, so that had to be it. What do you work out when you work out your arms? Biceps? Yes, I did some bench presses, and my biceps were sore. I don’t think the weight lifting community calls them biceps though, I think they call them ‘bis’. My bis are sore. Yeah, that sounded good. I decided to go with that. We would place the bed down and I would grab my ‘bi’, I guess my right bi, and talk about how sore it was. All those bench presses.
We got to the top of the stairs, and I guided the bed to the floor. I rose over the side of the bed and was about to begin my spiel when my eyes made contact with her chest, her large, bulging chest trying to force it’s way out of a sports bra. A purple sports bra, a huge purple sports bra. The breasts, they were so round, so big, so tanned. Each breast sat on a mound of chest muscles. My god they were big. I wasn’t good at bra sizes, but hers must have been closer to Z than A, that’s all I could tell.
But her arms, they were also huge. Muscular. I was used to only seeing muscles like these on huge bodybuilders, dudes. This was definitely a girl, most definitely a girl, but her arms were massive, and powerful. She had a towel on her muscular shoulder.
Moving up from the towel, I saw her face, and she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. It was like one of those scenes from a movie where there’s light shining behind them as if she was some holy creature from heaven or something. She had long, light brown hair tied up in a pony tail. She had big brown eyes, and luscious lips, and she was smiling. Her smile warmed my heart… and… hurt my neck? I realized quickly that I was craning my neck to look at her face. And she was looking down at me. She must have been tall, really tall, especially for a girl. Over six feet, for sure. My head came up to about her breasts, and she was around a foot taller than that.
“Gym,” was all I was able to get out.
“Tasha,” she replied. She offered her hand, her other still holding the bed in place. Her hand was definitely bigger than mine. But it was well manicured, like a woman’s. But it was huge, like a man’s. I was so dumbfounded looking at this piece of art work in front of me, a specimen so mind boggling I was surprised it could even exist. Also, she thought my name was Jim.
“Um… no… sorry… Luke,” I replied shaking her hand. Her handshake was powerful, but clearly tempered by her being a woman.
“Oh okay, well, hi Luke!” She said. She was so chipper. “Let me help you with this, what’s your room number?”
“205,” I replied, still slightly in a stupor.
“Really? You must be new then, you’re right next door to me!” She then lifted the bed and carried it over to the door. I walked on the other side. It didn’t take long before we reached the apartment. There was no way I could get away with talking about the gym now. She was a muscular goddess, she was probably on her way to the gym now. I would look like an idiot, and, worst of all, a lying idiot. She would blow me off in a second. At this point, I wasn’t even worried about dating her. I was more worried about her getting mad and folding me into a cube.
We stopped at my door. “I think I can take it from here… thank you so much for all your help!” I said.
“Any time Luke. If you need any other help moving, let me know, I’m right across from you. I’ll see you around!” She turned and headed back towards the stairs. Now unobstructed by the bed, her ass was in full view, and I couldn’t stop staring. It was big. Her whole body was big, but my god, that butt was so firm, but bouncy in the right places. I had played games, seen cartoons, seen pornography where a girl has a nice butt, but never in my wildest dreams had I imagined I would see such a massive booty in the flesh. And those thighs, they bulged out of her short workout shorts like they were ready to explode. This girl was on a whole other level from what I could have in a neighbor.
I fumbled for my keys and lugged the bed into the room, closing the door behind me. My heart was pounding. My neighbor is an amazon, a sexual goddess of a woman, bigger than any other girl I had ever seen, bigger than most men I had ever seen. Stronger too, I’m sure of it. Just being in her presence made me feel weak, insecure even. What was she thinking, watching a gremlin like me try to carry a bed up some stairs? What a loser, probably. What a weak, pathetic loser. She probably dated some giant bodybuilder that had arms bigger than hers and legs bigger than hers. That’s how the world worked. Women didn’t date guys smaller than them, that was pure science.
I finally got the bed into my room. The bed frame itself was much easier to bring in. At least that didn’t emasculate me in front of anyone. I laid down on my bed to plan out the rest of the stuff I needed to buy. My first day as a real man was already off to a weird start.
