The New Neighbor Read online

  – he thrust his hips up off the floor and cried out as he came, his semen splashing over his belly, chest and legs as Lorelle continued to pump her fist up and down. He released a groan of disappointment and his hips shuddered when it was over, but -

  – Lorelle did not stop. "It's okay," she hissed. "It's oookay." In one swift movement, Lorelle sat up and pulled the sweatshirt over her head and pressed his hand to her bare breast, grinding it in a circular motion as she began to unbutton his shirt with her other hand. When the shirt was off, something tore suddenly and Robby opened his eyes. Lorelle's tattered skirt was heaped on the floor. They were both naked.

  Swinging one leg over him, Lorelle straddled his chest and lifted his head with both hands. Robby's face was an inch from the triangular patch of dark hair; beads of moisture glistened among the tight curls.

  "Look at it, Robby," she rasped. "Have you ever seen one before? Up close?"

  He stared open-mouthed and licked his dry lips, panting.

  "Do you like it?"

  He lowered his hand from her breast and ran his fingers through the hair, touched the slick folds.

  "Lick it, Robby. Eat it!"

  Clutching his head between both hands, Lorelle pulled his face between her legs and squeezed her thighs together, laughing.

  Robby inhaled deeply, slid his tongue over her fleshy lips and found the small hard nub hidden between them as Lorelle closed her fists on his hair and pulled until his scalp stung. As he licked her and sucked her folds into his mouth, he realized his erection had not gone away. Instead, it had grown so hard it felt as if the taut skin might split open.

  Digging her nails into his scalp, Lorelle moved against his face and Robby's tongue slipped inside her as if sucked into a mouth, and he felt her opening move, felt it tighten around his tongue, which only excited him more. He stiffened his tongue and moved it in and out of her rapidly, slurping like an infant sucking the milk from its mother's tit, and Lorelle responded. A low growl rose from deep in her chest and became a breathless laugh and she moved on his tongue as if it were a penis. She reached behind her and closed her hand around his genitals, tugging on his erection and testicles at the same time until she pulled herself away from his face suddenly and slid down his body, painting a strip of clear glistening fluid down his chest and abdomen, which she rubbed in with her palm.

  Lorelle devoured Robby's cock like a starving woman given a hot meal and Robby could not remain still. His arms and legs quaked and his hips rose to meet her. His head rolled back and forth as his hands clutched his hair and he groaned as if in agony. She reached beneath his ass as she sucked him, running a fingernail over the sensitive flesh between his buttocks and something inside Robby churned, roiled. Something deep in his gut whirled, like water being sucked down a drain and he felt as if he were being emptied.

  His second orgasm came on like an army conducting a surprise attack.

  As he emptied himself into Lorelle's mouth with spine-twisting bursts, Robby's skull began to shrink, squeezing his brain in an iron grip; he slapped one hand to his head and the other to his mouth to hold in the ragged scream that tried to tear its way up his throat.

  They'll hear, he thought, feeling a jolt of shame as he envisioned, for an instant, his dad and mom bursting into the house to see what was wrong.

  Lorelle squeezed Robby's testicles as she continued to suck on his ejaculating cock. He convulsed on the floor until he felt empty, then his movements slowed and he reached out to touch her, stroking her arms, her hair, her face. His body relaxed and he sighed as his movements slowed and he touched her more and more gently.

  She crawled up his body, laughing.

  "No," she whispered, "Don't stop now. We haven't gotten to the best part yet."

  He opened his eyes, took a moment to search for his voice, then croaked, "What?"

  "The best part," Lorelle said breathlessly, pressing her breasts against him. "Don't you want to be in me? Don't you want to fuck me? You've never done that before."

  Robby gave her a weak frown.

  "Oh, that's okay. I like that you haven't done it before. I want to be your first time."

  "But I – “ Robby stopped.

  He was going to say, But I can't, but stopped. Lorelle was moving herself above him. He felt the scrub of her pubic hairs and felt her wet lips rubbing against his cock, which was still hard.

  Lorelle lifted both of his hands to her breasts then leaned forward and squeezed them together over his face. He kissed them, took the rigid nipples into his mouth and rolled his tongue over them, his breath heaving through his nose as he licked and sucked and bit them until she pulled them away and -

  – she pressed her mouth to his, stabbed her tongue into him and moaned. Robby tasted himself on her lips as she explored his mouth then sucked hard on his tongue. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, clutching her back as she reached down, gripped his cock, and slipped it inside her, writhing on it. Robby gasped, opening his eyes wide. Lorelle's long hair fell on him, tickling his chest and face, and through it, as if through a mist, he saw the sculpture just behind her. Lilith leaned toward them, pulling Adam's cock into her mouth – but she seemed to be watching Robby and Lorelle, smiling slightly, as if with approval.

  Sodom and Gomorrah sat on the hearth, one on each side of the fire and quietly watched them.

  Robby groaned as Lorelle's vagina closed like a fist, squeezing him to the verge of pain, then releasing just enough to slide up, then back down, then squeezing again, repeating the cycle over and over until -

  – Robby felt the churning again, the sensation of being drained as he began to jerk beneath her, driving his cock upward as hard as he could, again and again until -

  – his orgasm fell over him like a blanket of thinly sliced lead and -

  – Robby lost consciousness…

  When he awoke several minutes later, dazed and disoriented, Lorelle had already started all over again…

  Chapter 5

  An Afternoon Visit

  Karen had just changed out of her uniform when the doorbell rang. Normally she would be annoyed by the interruption so soon after getting home from work, but it was Friday and she was always in a better mood than usual on Fridays, knowing she didn't have to work for the next two days.

  It was Lorelle Dupree. "I hope I'm not bothering you,” she said.

  "Not at all," Karen said. "Just got home from work. Come on in."

  "Thank you. Where do you work?"

  "Redding Medical Center. I'm a nurse. A very fortunate nurse because I’ve managed to get weekends off. That means Friday is actually my Friday.” She chuckled.

  Karen led her into the kitchen and Lorelle sat at the breakfast table. "I was just going to put on some coffee. Want some?"

  "Sure."

  Karen filled the coffee maker, remembering the discomfort she'd felt with Lorelle Dupree and wondering what it was about the woman that had unsettled her. It could have been any number of things – the fact that she was beautiful, she was a stranger, or because, in spite of what George said, it was odd (at least, Karen still thought so) that she'd invited Robby to come over and help her with the furniture and have a cozy little dinner for two. Or perhaps it was just that Lorelle Dupree was a new neighbor. Karen was naturally cautious around new, unfamiliar people. Perhaps she was even more so when she knew that person would be living across the street. Whatever it had been, she didn't feel it now. Instead, it was rather pleasant to have another woman to visit with for a while. Aside from Lynda, she had no female friends, and Lynda was as occupied with her family as Karen was with hers.

  She pulled up a chair at the table as the coffee began to gurgle lazily. She looked much better than she had the night she arrived, much healthier, with some color in her face. Karen asked, "What about you? What kind of work do you do?"

  "I'm an artist."

  "Really? An artist? What are you doing in Redding?"

  Lorelle laughed. "That's the reaction I've b
een getting from everyone. I didn't think Redding was that backward."

  "It certainly seems like it sometimes.”

  They talked for a while about Redding and Karen made the standard hick town jokes, then did the standard backpedaling and said it wasn't all that bad after all – even though it really was.

  She told Lorelle about the local points of interest – interesting to newcomers, anyway – like the dam and Shasta Caverns. As they talked and laughed, Karen became much more comfortable with Lorelle until her previous uneasiness was forgotten.

  "So, what do you do, Lorelle, paint?"

  "I paint, sculpt. But I make my living from my jewelry."

  "You make jewelry? Oh, I'd love to see some of your work."

  Lorelle held out her hands and Karen looked closely at the rings, impressed.

  "They're beautiful," she said quietly. "You make these?”

  "You like them?"

  "They're gorgeous."

  "Tell you what. Why don't you turn off the coffee and come over to my place. I was just unpacking all my pieces and I bet there's something over there you'd like."

  "Oh, you don't have to – “

  "No, really. That's why I came over here. I like to know my neighbors, and I was going to invite you over for a cup of hot spiced wine so we could get acquainted."

  "Mmm, that sounds good. But really, my husband'll be home in a couple of hours and I haven't started dinner."

  "Order a pizza. Or better yet – “ Lorelle stood and gave Karen a conspiratorial wink, “ – let him cook it. You work, too, remember."

  Laughing, Karen went to the coffee maker and switched it off. "We're gonna get along well, you and me," she said, grabbing her coat in the hall as they headed for the front door. "I like the way you think."

  * * * *

  Robby stared at his English lit test as he hunched over his desk, but did not see it. Neither did he hear the occasional weary sighs of the other students laboring over the questions, nor the rustle of papers and tapping of pencils that punctuated the silence. Instead, his mind re-examined the events of the night before, going over them again and again.

  He vaguely remembered waking in Lorelle's arms, in front of the fire, feeling weak and helpless as a newborn infant. She smiled, stroked his face, and told him he should dress and go home. But before he left, she gave him a gift – a silver neck chain with a sterling wolf's head pendant that held two tiny ruby eyes. At the door, she gave him one more kiss – a long hungry kiss that sucked his tongue into her mouth so hard it hurt – then he staggered across the street, unaware of the time, but hoping it wasn't too late. In the house, he closed the door quietly when he heard the television in the living room, quickly ducked down the hall and went straight to bed.

  Getting out of bed that morning had been a chore and his mother had insisted he stay home from school because she didn’t think he looked well. But, not wanting to miss the test, Robby assured her that he was fine and managed to shower and dress in time to catch the bus.

  But he did look ill: pale and exhausted, with gray rings beneath his heavy eyes. His chest, shoulders and neck were spotted with light bruises where Lorelle had chewed on him and the ruby eyes in the snarling wolf's head looked an even deeper red against his ashen skin than they had the night before.

  As he stared blindly at the test, he wondered why it had happened, what she had seen in him when he was so obviously below her standards. She was – how old? Thirty? Thirty-five? Older? It was hard to tell. He was just a clumsy teenager who couldn't drink, drive or vote, and whose experience with women did not extend beyond sucking on one of Janine Flugel's nipples and slipping his fingers down her panties while she jerked him off through his undershorts behind the gymnasium, during the autumn dance, a couple of weeks ago. He didn't understand it, but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed that understanding it was not necessary.

  "Robby? Robby?"

  He blinked as he looked around, fingering the sterling wolf's head. He was surprised to see everyone leaving their desks, slapping their books together and complaining about the test. Miss Weiss was leaning over his desk, frowning.

  "Are you all right, Robby?" she asked.

  "Huh? Yeah. Fine. Is… did the bell ring?"

  "Yes, and you haven't finished, have you?"

  "Well, um… " He looked at the test. Not only had he not finished, he'd barely even started. The first question was half answered and the rest of the paper was blank except for the doodles in the margins. The doodles…

  Robby moved to slap his hand over one of the scribbled pictures, but knew he was too late when he saw Miss Weiss looking at his crude drawing of Lorelle's sculpture.

  She turned to him slowly and he wasn't sure if she was going to smirk or frown.

  "You don't look well, Robby," she said. She was leaning close and he could see the light sprinkle of freckles on her chest, but that – even combined with the smell of her perfume – did not elicit the usual blushing response. He just didn't have the energy to find her attractive.

  "I guess I… haven't been… feeling too well today. But I didn't want to miss the test."

  "Well, it didn't do you much good to come to school, did it?" She took the paper and stepped back from his desk. "Go on home and get some rest."

  "I've got two more classes," he said.

  "They'll still be there next week. Go see the school nurse and I'll let you make up the test on Monday."

  He quickly gathered his things. "Thanks, Miss Weiss."

  "But next time you're sick, stay home. Okay?"

  He didn't look back as he hurried out of the room.

  Dylan was waiting for him in the hall.

  "What the hell's the matter with you man? You look like you fell out of the back of a hearse."

  "Flu, maybe," Robby said without slowing his pace as he went to his locker.

  "So how'd you do on the test?"

  He said nothing.

  "You do okay? I'm not sure if I got that question about – “

  "I don't want to talk about the test, okay?" He didn't want to talk at all.

  "Maybe you’ve got the swine flu, 'cause you've been a real pig's ass all day, you know that? What're you, on your period?"

  “Sorry, Dylan. I just don't feel well." Actually, he didn't feel sick, just exhausted, and he only wanted to go home and sleep. He'd slept as if in a coma the night before, but still felt as if he would never get enough sleep again.

  * * * *

  After about half an hour of conversation over wine in Lorelle's kitchen, Lorelle went to her bedroom to get her jewelry. Karen seated herself on the sofa and gasped softly when she saw the sculpture. She gawked at it for a few moments, then turned away when she heard Lorelle coming, acting as if she hadn't even noticed it. But each time Lorelle turned away to open a new box of jewelry, Karen stole a look at the sculpture and wondered if it was Lorelle's work. If Lorelle had done it, she hadn’t given herself the credit she deserved when she'd said earlier, "Oh, my art is nothing more than a hobby, really. I just happen to make a living at it." Still, there was something about the sculpture that made Karen squirm. It was not the deliciously sinister look on the woman's face or the look of anguish on the man's, and neither was it the leathery wings sprouting from the woman's back. It was…

  … the penis. It looked so real, black as coal, but shiny as if it were wet, generously leaking the clear viscous fluids that penises seemed to produce in abundance. Each time Karen looked at the sculpture, it was the man's stiff penis to which her eyes were drawn.

  She was admiring a pair of sterling crescent moon earrings when Lorelle turned away to open the fourth box. Karen looked at the sculpture again, at the fat penis clutched in the winged woman's fist.

  "Does it bother you?"

  Karen jerked around toward Lorelle. "Pardon?"

  "My sculpture. Does it bother you?"

  "Oh, no. It's… beautiful. I was wondering if you'd done it. I think it's… wonderful."

&nb
sp; "Ah. Well, some people are offended by it. And you were looking at it with a sort of distasteful grimace."

  "Was I? I'm sorry. It has nothing to do with… I mean, I really do think it's beautiful. I just… well… " She laughed, embarrassed that she'd even considered telling Lorelle what was bothering her, and finished off her wine.

  Watch it, she thought. You've had more than a few of those.

  "I'll get you another." Lorelle took the cup and was gone before Karen could protest.

  So she looked at the sculpture again.

  Coming back into the living room with another cup of wine, Lorelle asked, "What were you about to say?"

  "Oh, nothing."

  "Come on. No fair teasing. You were about to say something about the sculpture."

  Karen laughed again. "No, it's nothing. Really, I guess I'm just not used to drinking this much wine."

  "Is it the woman? I know she doesn't exactly meet the current standards of beauty."

  "No."

  "Her wings?"

  "No, really, I'm just – “

  "The man?"

  "No, no, it's just, um… his penis," she whispered suddenly with a wince, surprising herself.

  Lorelle lifted a brow, "His penis?"

  "God, that sounds awful, doesn't it?"

  "Not at all. What about his penis?"

  "Well, it looks so real."

  "Does that bother you?"

  "Well, um, it's very well done and… I just… well, I know this sounds crazy and you'll probably think there's something wrong with me, but… I think they're so ugly."

  Lorelle slapped her thigh, threw back her head and laughed. "I don't think there's anything wrong with you, Karen. I know a lot of women who think they're ugly. And – “ She turned to her sculpture, “ – in a way, I have to agree. Aesthetically, there's not a great deal to recommend them, is there?"

  Snickering into her palm, Karen shook her head.

  "How does your husband feel about your opinion of the male organ?"

  "He doesn't know," she laughed.