SLUTBURBIA - Chapter Seven - The Surprise

If Neighbor Boy wasn't interested in her invitation, Jenny was prepared for the rejection.  She was used to it.  She'd learned to live with rejection as early as junior high school after a mean-spirited invitation to a popular girl's slumber party.  All the other sixth grade bitches had convinced her to confess to having a crush on Mickey Kilpatrick, she'd told them all about how he'd come over every day after school, how they'd talked and how she hoped that he would kiss her.  They stayed up late into the night, practicing French kisses on their pillows and swearing to one another to keep Jenny's secret, but the entire school had heard about it by the ring of the first bell on Monday.

Mickey had smiled at her, and Jenny's heart soared at the thought of her first real crush knowing then that she'd like him as more than a friend.  But then he'd laughed and announced to homeroom, "I'm not going out with that whale, but she can have my pizza at lunch!"  She'd felt the blood rushing to her face while the class laughed, all the boys cracking fat jokes until the teacher finally walked in.  

That one fucking slumber party had set the tone for every relationship she'd had from that point on.  

Fuck those little bitches who'd humiliated her, and fuck all those boys who'd called her fat.  She'd never let them know how much it had hurt, and now at almost twenty-five years old, she'd kept that promise to herself.  She'd never let anybody get close enough to hurt her, and she'd never let herself dwell in misery when a man rejected her advances.  If she could make it this long, living through all the bullshit she'd lived through, the torment in high school, the general isolation in college.  She could live with Neighbor Boy telling her to fuck off.

But maybe he wouldn't.  She really wasn't that fat.  She only looked fat next to the bitches in her neighborhood, bitches like Skeletor and Juanita.  She'd been exercising for over a year, she'd lost almost fifty pounds.  And it was only a matter of time before she had the cash for the surgery so she could get rid of those last few things keeping her from feeling more confident.  Waiting until after the surgery seemed smart, but she was starting to feel desperate.  Fuck it.  Sure, she had some loose skin and cellulite, but she had a pussy, too.  If she couldn't attract somebody like Neighbor Boy by mowing the grass in her bikini, like Juanita before Tony finally let her get a gardener, she'd attract him with overt sexuality and the one thing she boasted that no other bitch on the street could- a fucking brain.

She'd been watching fruitlessly for Neighbor Boy for over a week, but she was at work during the day, and he was always coming and going during the night.  Victor.  She'd have to stop calling him Neighbor Boy now that she was ready to go over and formally introduce herself.  He hadn't told her his name, she'd found it on Google, but she'd given him hers.  She'd said something from her car that morning on the way to work, whenever he'd had that blue tarp drying on the fence.  Tall, Dark and Blue Tarp.  She'd wanted to ask about that fucking tarp, but she hadn't had any other opportunities to drum up small talk.

Fuck it, she'd finally thought a few days before.  She was making her own opportunity, in the form of a hamburger casserole.  Nobody at work gave a shit that she'd taken the day off, and she was determined to catch him at home.  Whatever he did for a living, Jenny hadn't been able to find anything about it online.  And she could find out anything about people online.  She'd been doing it for years.  In fact, she'd spent most of the last week digging into that Nicole bitch who kept posting in her favorite Mommy Board about Cancer Kid.  Nicole was a troll.  She'd suspected it from the beginning, but now she was fucking sure of it, and she'd have to warn everybody.  Jenny might have been a troll, too, and yeah she fucking mocked and hated those twerps; but she still felt defensive whenever other trolls rolled in and took advantage of her 'friends.'  She'd have to deal with that later though, Neighbor Boy needed her attention.  

The casserole sat warming in the oven and Jenny stood naked in the mirror upstairs, running her fingers through her freshly dried hair, letting it hang seductively over her brown nipples.  Pretending they were his, she ran the tips of her fingers down the auburn hair softly until they reached her nipples, and then moved further to inspect the smooth skin below her waist.  She'd gone the day before and had her legs and snatch waxed, just in case.  Her skin was still a little sensitive, but if Neighbor Boy played along, it'd be worth it.  She pulled on her sexiest bra and panties, red satin.  Blood red.  Her soft jersey t-shirt dress, heather gray, waited for her on her bed.  It's perfect.  Casual and feminine.   She pulled it on and slipped into her pink ballet loafers, and checked her make-up one last time.  Just be yourself.

***

She knocked on the door a little too hard, balancing the casserole dish in one hand and glancing around to see if anybody was watching.  The house was dead silent as far as Jenny could tell, she wondered if Neighbor Boy was still sleeping.  She was just about to turn and leave when the heavy front door creaked open and there he stood.  Half-asleep and half-naked.  And half-hard through his linen drawstring pajama pants.  He held the door open with one hand and wiped the sleep from his face with the other.

"I'm so sorry I woke you," she stammered, "I can come back another time."  She turned to leave but he reached out and touched her arm.  Electricity shot through her body, a hard knot forming in her stomach and her throat.  She couldn't think of the last time a man had reached out and touched her like that, almost... tenderly.

"No," he said hoarsely, "Its fine, I needed to get up.  Come on in."  He pushed the door back to let her enter, and she gingerly stepped over the threshold into his dark foyer.  The whole house was dark, like a tomb.  The Green's had never invited her in, and she was surprised by how small the house looked from the inside.  There wasn't much furniture, a dark leather couch and a few dining chairs.  No dining table.  The walls were almost bare except for a crap print that hung over the fireplace in the living room, a drawing of a Samurai warrior or some shit, slaying a tiger.  Who hangs shit like that in their living room?  

"It was here when I moved in," he said, pulling her attention from the hideous poster.  She must have been staring.  

"Oh."

"Can I take that for you?" he asked pleasantly.  He still hadn't smiled, Jenny wasn't even sure he had any teeth, but it wouldn't have mattered one way or the other because the rest of him was fucking magnificent.  The morning sun shone through the drawn curtains, casting just enough light to see the perfectly defined muscles in his stomach, the sinewy arms that hung by his sides... his shoulders.  Dear Sweet Baby Jesus, his shoulders.  They were broad, accentuating his v-shaped torso like a fucking Calvin Klein underwear model.  This guy was lean, like a steak, and Jenny needed to taste him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching up to rub away the rest of the sleep from his eyes.  

"Yes, I'm sorry," Jenny said quickly, "Yes, please take it.  It's a hamburger casserole, I hope you're not a vegetarian." 

"No," he replied flatly, "I'm not a vegetarian."  He reached for the dish and turned towards the kitchen, Jenny followed.  He flipped the light on and put the dish in the oven.  A stark contrast from the dark foyer and living room, the kitchen was bleach white, from the tile on the floor to the marble counters and the thick cabinets.  It even smelled like bleach.  In fact, Jenny noticed, the entire house smelled like bleach.

"How do you like the house?" she asked.

"It's alright," he said, leaning against the counter and raking his hands through his thick sandy hair.  His dark tan was visible now that the lights were on, and his dick was still somewhat ripe under the thin pants.  Jenny could see the ridge of his cockhead perfectly through the material and wondered if he realized how exposed he was.  He crossed his arms as he watched her, a serious look on his face.  Jenny felt her pulse quickening and started to feel nervous.  That's weird.  She hadn't felt nervous around a man in years, she'd been conditioned to steeling herself in defense of her feelings and hadn't allowed it.  Being nervous makes you weak, being weak makes you a target, being a target gets you hurt.  

Pull it together, dumbass.

"What brought you to the neighborhood?"

He stayed silent for a moment, his jaw clenched tightly.  His eyes moved over her figure discriminatingly.  Jenny fidgeted and finally found a comfortable position, standing with her hip against the counter.  He could have offered her a seat, it was pretty rude that he hadn't.  Maybe he just wants to get rid of me.  Jenny's confidence sunk, and she cursed herself for having come over to begin with.  Seducing Pizza Boy hadn't even worked, what the fuck did she think she was doing trying to get it in with a guy like this?  Victor Stone was way out of her league, and she knew it.  He hadn't even told her his name yet.  He didn't want her there.  This was exactly why she'd spent the last ten years saying, "Fuck the world," not giving a shit about anybody else and only looking out for herself.  

"A fresh start."

"Huh?" Jenny asked.

"A fresh start," he repeated, "You asked what brought me to the neighborhood.  I needed a fresh start."

"Oh," she said, thinking she should just leave, "So... I just wanted to formally welcome you to the neighborhood, enjoy the casserole, and don't worry about the dish."  And don't let Juanita give you terminal herpes.  She started to leave, but Neighbor Boy closed the distance like a hawk, pressing her against the counter, his hands on either side of her.  Jenny's surprise must have registered on her face because he finally smiled at her.  It was glorious.  A sincere, wide smile that covered his face and brightened his eyes, as if it would have been anything less than perfect considering how he cared for the rest of his body.

"I've seen you looking for me," he whispered, his hand moving up to touch her bare arm.  Black pupils took over the blue in his eyes as his fingertips touched her again and Jenny's chest heaved.  She was forcing herself to breath, the fear in her heart threatening to overshadow the excitement in her flesh.  He was being flip now, making fun of her, like they always do.  Another cruel motherfucker.  Didn't she have any self-respect?  Why do you let them humiliate you like this?

"Listen, I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood," she said with as much confidence as she could summon, "So, I've got to get to work now, let me know if you need anything."  She went to push him away, but her hands met resistance in his hard muscled chest.  His firmly planted body held her steady against the counter, she was alarmingly aware of the growing cock in his pants only inches away from her.  Her face felt hot, the sweat building on her brow.  

"You don't want to leave," he said matter-of-factly, "You just got here."  This was exactly what she'd wanted, she'd come here for just this reason, to feel him close to her, but now?  Fucking now what?  Jenny could solve abstract equations in her head without breaking a sweat, perform sketchy accounting techniques on multi-million dollar accounts and get away with it, defraud unsuspecting stay-at-home-mothers of their husband's hard-earned money... all without hesitation and with little effort.  But seducing her sexy new neighbor and finding his dick hard only inches from her wet snatch?  Totally. Fucking. Clueless. 

 

"Well, you're not exactly a conversationalist," she said uneasily, "I thought you might want me to leave."

"I'm not much of a talker.  Do I look like I want you to leave?"  He didn't.  He had her pinned against the counter, but Jenny was confused.  Why were men so fucking hard to read?  At least women were consistent with their bitchiness and materialism, Jenny could see right through women.  Men were the only equation she'd never been able to solve.  The fucking Goldbach conjecture with a dick.  Infuriating and enslaving.

"You haven't even told me your name," Jenny whined, "Talking to you is like talking to a fucking corpse, of course I thought you wanted me to leave."

"Victor," he laughed, "My name is Victor.  But come on, you already knew my name.  You probably Googled it the day I moved in."  His laugh was deep, like his voice, and both sent tremors down Jenny's body.  Her hair on her arms stood up and her legs trembled a bit, her body flushed with embarrassment.

"I did not," she objected, "I have better things to fucking do with my time."

"Hey," he snapped, slapping her on the leg, "For such a pretty girl, you've sure got a filthy mouth."

Did he just slap my leg?

"I'm a grown woman," she hissed, "I can talk however I fucking please."

Wait.  Did he just call me pretty?  The last guy to call her pretty had been a groomsman at her sister's wedding.  He'd walked her down the aisle in that hideous fucking orange taffeta gown.  She'd looked like a goddamn grapefruit, but he'd gotten wasted and told her she was pretty.  Then he'd puked on her and she'd been upset she had to leave the reception.

"You're a sassy little thing," Victor smiled, "I like it.  If I kiss you, are you going to knee me in the balls?" Jenny fell limp against the counter, her fingers tingling, she was desperate not to ruin the moment by saying the wrong thing.

"Only if you're a bad kisser," she quipped.  He leaned in and put his mouth close to her ear, his hands still firmly on the counter.  Jenny's breath caught and she worried he could hear her heart thumping wildly against her chest, betraying her insecurity.

"I've been called a lot of things," he breathed hotly against her skin, "But a bad kisser isn't on the list."  He let his lips brush against her neck, his tongue slipping out just enough to taste her with the tip and then moved his mouth softly down toward her shoulder, just above her the fabric of her dress.

"Is 'tease' on the list?" she asked, "Has anybody ever called you that?"

"Never," he said, pulling his head up to look at her face, "Never a tease, and never a disappointment.  I'm going to kiss you now.  Are you ready?"

"Just do it!"

"Do you want me to kiss you?" he grinned.  Jenny kissed him hard, surprising herself when her lips met his so crudely.  

"Not so rough," he said, slapping her leg again.

Great, he already thinks I'm a bad kisser.  But then he leaned in and kissed her lips gently.  He opened his mouth and let his tongue seek hers, circling it softly and then pulling away to suck her lips, letting them pop out of his mouth before leaning in to kiss them again.  Oh fuck.  Jenny felt herself on the edge of an orgasm already, and he hadn't even fucking touched her.  He was crazy sexy hot, and his slippery tongue against hers was heaven.  She couldn't stop imagining it circling her nipples in the same way, and her clit, her asshole. 

This is really happening.

***

She was too eager, Victor thought.  But what she lacked in experience, she made up for in enthusiasm.  Jenny was one of those girls who didn't know how gorgeous she was, which meant she wouldn't be as skilled at the games most women play.  He'd looked up all his new neighbors before he'd even come into town, he knew what they were about.  Jenny was an accountant, no big history, a vanilla kind of generality with no big plans to fuck up her life.  This pretty little neighbor with her stupid casserole dish was the first person he'd talked to in weeks, and the first woman in years whose motives he hadn't analyzed to death.

This little girl just wants to fuck.  If she was as eager to please in bed as he suspected, she'd be a phenomenal fuck.  And maybe even somebody he could trust.  Scandalous bitches don't bring over homemade casseroles, they bring over store-bought brownies.  Or champagne.  And they don't wear pink ballet slippers.  They wear stripper shoes.  

No, this girl was different.  And he'd be an idiot to pass on those dark, pleading eyes and that beautiful creamy skin.  Her gray dress pressed tightly against all the right curves on that thick body of hers.  Victor felt the blood pumping into his dick, imagining what her plump hips and ass would feel like in his hands while he rammed his cock inside of her tight little pussy.  

"Take off your dress," he demanded, still standing in her way as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

"What?" she asked incredulously.  Come on, don't play coy now.

"Take. Off. Your. Dress," he repeated gently, "Please."  He stepped back to watch, his hand rubbing his erection through his pants.  She was blushing.  That's sweet.  And sexy as fuck.

She reached down hesitantly, grabbing the hem and pulling it up slowly.  He felt her eyes on him but he was watching her reveal her body, the dress torturing him with inch after inch of milky skin as she pulled it up and over her head.  Fuck me.  Those thick thighs and round ass, red silky panties, those titties sitting up perfectly under that silky red bra... Victor's dick pulsed excitedly under his hand and he stepped toward her, desperate to know if her skin felt as soft as it looked.

"You're fucking perfect," he growled, "Holy shit."  He kissed her again, running his hands up the sides of her legs and over her ass until he reached the waistband of those pesky panties.  He put his fingers inside and pulled them down gently.

"Kick them off," he demanded.  She did it instantly, her compliance quickening his already raging need to fuck her.  He moved his mouth from hers to her neck, her hot breath panting as he rubbed her breast through the sexy red bra, moving his fingers down towards her snatch.

"Open your legs for me, beautiful," he said, pressing his hand into her soaking wet pussy, and then, "Christ, you're so fucking wet!"  She gasped and reached up to steady herself against him, her hands on his shoulders.  It was the first time she'd touched him.  She hadn't even touched his dick, just his skin, but her hands against his skin was enough.  He sighed with pleasure and slid a finger easily into her folds and inside her sopping wet pussy.

He pulled back suddenly and looked at her in surprise, "Holy shit, are you a virgin?"

Click here to read CHAPTER EIGHT!