There Goes the Neighborhood (f/f/futa, voy)

Been a while since I posted anything. Hope y'all like. To give you a heads up, my Futa's are generally long and strong. Superhumanly so. So if you like things in the realm of reality, you best run away now. This has some exposition and setup, so if you are looking just for sex (which there is) it comes later in the story. Also, I have no idea if there will be more. This started as a means to get me writing again, so I could add to a previous story here called A Whole New World. Critiques and criticisms welcome. Enjoy!

It was that time of year. The time when new students moved into my neighborhood a few weeks before the semester started for the university. Despite being in my 30’s, I lived in an area of town with lots of rentals that attracted college kids. As such, I was used to having new neighbors for my duplex every year...often every semester. So it wasn’t a surprise to see a moving truck in my neighboring driveway when I returned home from work one day.

New neighbors were always a bit stressful for me, as I never knew what to expect. Boozing frat boys? I’ve had to deal with them. Over sensitive types that hear every step I take through the walls? Had them too. A couple that fought and yelled at each other? Had to call the cops once, sadly. Now that I think about it, I rarely had neighbors I wasn’t happy to see leave.

So, despite the fact that the new apparent tenants were pleasing to look at, I still had a fair amount of trepidation about them moving in. There were three of them, all young women, heading into their new abode carrying boxes, going into the house. I didn’t want to come off as the creepy older neighbor, so I didn’t spend much time looking to see much more than that they all seemed attractive. I headed over to try and be neighborly and offer to help (I always try to start off on the right foot), but I noticed that the back of the truck was empty, I figured I would give them time to settling in before I introduced myself. As I turned to leave, a voice stopped me.

“Can I help you?” The voice asked. It reminded me a bit of Emma Stone, gravel-y, but a bit higher pitched. I turned to see one of the young ladies. She was tall for a girl but not gangly, wearing baggy shorts and a t-shirt on her slender frame. Her hair brown, long and slightly wavy. Her face was stern, and an odd mix of girlish youth and maturity beyond her years. Her eyes had a weight to them that, despite me probably being twice her age, said that she was in charge of this encounter...and quite probably any future encounter as well.

“Oh, um, I’m your neighbor.” I stumbled out “Just checking to see if you wanted any help. But you seem to have it taken care of.”

She smirked at me. The kind of smile where half of your mouth pulls back more that the other as she strode over, extend