He takes a quick step back, folds his arms, and huffs. “You know, you’re a real turd. As if I’d want a relationship with you.”
“Turd?” I burst out laughing. “You know, it’s okay to say shit.” I’m really not trying to bully him. There’s just something about his responses that draws me to him. I like pushing his buttons a little. And it might be a little payback for his kids constantly trashing my yard with their crap or waking me up too early on the weekends with their damn outdoor voices, despite my constant requests that they don’t.
I’m probably lying to myself again, but I’m not sure about what. I’m too buzzed to figure it out.
I’m taking a large sip of my drink when my mind wanders elsewhere. Is Seth this reactive during sex? I can see this pearl-clutcher secretly wanting to be debauched.Fuck, that would be fun. He begs for something naughty, wanting to let go of those vanilla ways. Vanilla can be fun, too, but I bet that’s all he does.
“Ugh, you’re impossible.” Seth turns on his heel and storms off, but then stops, turns around, and points at me. “You’re a… a… shit.”
That makes me laugh even harder, but I cover my mouth to hide it, and so he can’t hear me. “Good job,Dad.”
I shouldn’t tease him so much. I truly have nothing against him, except for the annoying toys.
Maybe I’ve been too much of a dick. I’ll make it up to him, perhaps have him over for a drink or something. I may as well play nice if we’re going to be neighbors for the next several years.
I’m sure he’d prefer a batch of homemade cookies. I snigger at that before downing the rest of my drink and heading inside. Chocolate chip cookies, it is.
As I make my way upstairs to my bedroom, Seth filters through my brain again, envisioning how much he enjoys naughty sex, but this time it comes with delicious visuals. The fantasies are strong enough to get my cock to respond.
When I reach my room, I strip out of all my clothes, turn out the lights, and open my curtains and blinds.
You’d think the last thing I’d want is sex or to be horny over a Boy Scout neighbor after talking to my mother. I’m smart enough to know it’s the perfect way to filter out her words. It’s compartmentalizing at its finest because at least it’s enjoyable. That doesn’t mean Seth doesn’t periodically get the blood flowing down south.
I rest my arm on the wall by the window and wrap my fingers around my cock. There aren’t any houses across from me, but my house is angled enough that I can see parts of Seth’s place. It’s also dark, so I don’t worry about being seen.
As I languidly stroke myself, I imagine my neighbor peeking through his curtains as he watches me rub one out, enjoying the show I’m putting on for him. His fingers curl into the collar of his pressed polo shirt to cool himself down, desperately trying not to get turned on as Iswipe the precum from the head of my dick with my thumb. He quietly gasps as I bring it to my mouth and suck off the bitter release.
Seth’s hand slips beneath his pants and underwear to rub himself as I pump my fist harder and faster. A groan slips out of him. He can’t help himself. He likes what he sees. He privately enjoys being a voyeur, while I openly love being an exhibitionist.
My head rests on the cool pane of glass as I get lost in my strokes. My hand twists on the upstroke and grazes the head of my dick. But it’s the fantasy of my neighbor that pushes me closer to my climax.
He unzips his khaki chinos and drags them down along with his underwear low enough to pull out his cock. He doesn’t want to get caught with his pants down by his kids. Seth is careful, but he’s desperate to come as he watches me.
The visual is not even that naughty, at least for me, but having Seth as my fantasy for the evening does me in. It doesn’t take me long to come. The pressure becomes too much. My face flushes and my heart races. I hold my breath as I chase my climax, aiming my cock at the window to shoot out my load all over the glass so he can see how he makes me feel. How turned on he gets me.
Once I finish coming, I deflate with a mix of lingering arousal, disgust, and regret. With a deep breath and a shrug, I pull on a pair of underwear. Then I grab my dirty T-shirt off the floor, clean my window, and toss it into the hamper.
I climb into bed, lying on top of the covers as the ceiling fan cools my heated skin, and the numbness washes over me, but I’m not tired. My mother’s words continue to reverberate in my head like they always do. She excels at bringing my ego down about a thousand notches, forcing me to dwell on it, almost obsessively so.
Eventually, I tune her out and fall asleep about an hour later after tossing and turning.
It’s Monday and lunchtime. Olivia offered to grab me some food, but the late September day is cool and free of humidity. I’m not about to squander a nice walk to my favorite sushi place.
The strip mall a few blocks away has all you could need, from coffee, food, groceries, books, and there’s even a little daycare place.
My mouth is watering for something fresh and spicy. Maybe I’ll get the yellow sun roll with mango. The sweetness adds a little something, making it one of my favorites.
Right when I grab the handle of the glass door, I hear rapid footfalls on the concrete, but they sound different. They’re light and fast, not like an adult. I look in the distance and see a little girl running, her blonde pigtails trailing as she giggles. Not any little girl. Emily. That little hellcat…
I glance around, looking for Seth, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I debate going inside to eat or stopping her. I need to think fast because she’s not far now.
Mind made up, I let go of the door, step in front of her, and when she reaches me, I swoop her up into my arms. Before she can freak out, I say, “Hold up, little one. Does your daddy know you’re out here?” She fights to get out of my grasp, but I’m stronger. Not gonna lie, though, she fights hard. I didn’t expect that from a human the size of a chihuahua.
“Do you remember me? I live next door.” She stops fidgeting and looks into my eyes. “I’m Cal.”
“Cal?”
“Yep, easy peasy. And you’re Emily.”
