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!

SLUTBURBIA Chapter Six - The Game

Holden woke up with a massive hard on and pussy on his mind. He had been dreaming about fucking somebody, he couldn't remember who, but he remembered the silky heat of her clenching around his shaft, the look of lust in her eyes, and the feeling of love in his heart. Wait a minute, what the fuck? Am I getting soft in my old age? There was no way he'd be fucking somebody he loved like that. He had been humping on her like a horny dog, love and hard fucking didn't go hand in hand. Did they?

Holden got out of bed and did fifty push ups to shake off the lingering feelings. Who had she been? It wasn't anyone he knew, but those eyes would stay with him long after he showered and got ready for the day. He was prepared for that...he'd had this dream before.

The shower didn't help, a hundred more push ups didn't help. Nothing seemed to help him get rid of the remnants of the her so he decided to take it head on. He crawled back into bed, closed his eyes and thought about the woman with the incredible eyes and velvety pussy. He was back there in an instant, but nothing he did could recall more than those intense green eyes and the feeling of lust and love and contentment that washed over him. This is fucking stupid, stop being an asshole. You need a good fuck, is all. He reached for his phone and texted Juanita.

"Hey sweetheart, what's shaking?" He knew exactly what to say to get these bored housewives dangling on the end of his hook. Most of them were willing to fuck the first time he met them, but the real fun was finding their limits...and pushing them just a little farther. Things had really gotten easier since that horny bondage book, fifty something? After that it took nothing to have them on their knees in front of him, calling him Master and begging to be ass fucked while tied to the bed. Thank you whoever wrote that one, it made life so much easier. 

"OMG I was just thinking about you."

"I know you were, makes you nice and wet doesn't it?"

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm always nice and wet. ;)"

Oh, so she wants to play it that way. He decided not to respond, to make her sweat for a few hours. He wasn't going to put up with any insolence from this one, she was just the bonus to hunting down the rat. She  lived next to the guy he suspected of being the traitor, so when he started surveillance, he'd make sure he could spend a lot of time with Juanita.

Holden laid back on the bed, forcing the image of Juanita, of Asia, of any number of women in place of the one from his dream. He thought about Juanita, how tight her ass was when she bent over in front of him. He knew she was putting on a show, and he appreciated it. He could be a caring guy at times. He thought about sliding those perfectly pouty pink lips open with his cock head and fucking her face. She had beautiful skin and thick, shiny hair. He liked a woman who could take care of herself, it was more fun to mess them up.

He started to work on his long cock, he gripped the base with one hand and palmed the top with the other. He thought about Juanita taking his dick down the back of her throat, working her tongue around the slit, tightening her throat around it as he grabbed her hair and held her face against him. He wondered how much of it she could handle, most women couldn't get past the first half. He loved a chick who could really deep throat, open herself like a sword swallower in a circus freakshow. It was a lost art, and he was a connoisseur of the arts.

He sped up his strokes, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. The girl from the dream was there in an instant, writhing on the end of him, speaking words of love that made his heart beat faster. He heard a small noise and opened his eyes to find a sweet little housekeeper staring at him in complete shock and embarrassment. She was young, in her early twenties. She had dirty blonde hair and huge tits. She was squeezed into the hotel's uniform, a light grey number with a short skirt and a hot little fringed apron that accentuated her beautiful curving hips. She's such a pretty little thing, I wonder what she'd look like with me splitting her in half.

"Don't be shy," he said and gestured to her. He slowed down his stroking but didn't stop.

"I...I knocked. You didn't have a sign up, I can come back," she said, but he noticed she didn't take her eyes off his cock. Her tongue darted out, licking her lips and turning him on even more.

"I was...occupied. Would you like to join me? Make a little extra scratch on the side?"

"I'm not a prostitute," she said, frowning. She stood straighter and adjusted her uniform, but didn't take her eyes off him. He had her on the hook and they both knew it, it was just a matter of doing the dance that reeled her in.

"I never said you are, I just see luscious young woman who could go above and beyond to help a hotel guest out of a bind," he smiled, keeping his voice low and gentle as if dealing with a wild animal. He pictured his hand stretched out feeding grain to a deer.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked, looking at the door, then back to his long cock.

"First, you need to hang a sign on the door and properly lock it, why don't you be a sweetheart and do that for me?" He was feeling close to release so he slowed even more. This game was getting him hotter than he'd been in a while.

She walked to the door, did as he had asked and returned to where she'd been. "Now what?" she asked, sounding slightly defiant. Oh this is going to be fun, he thought.

"I want you to strip for me, put on a show," he said, making it more than a suggestion but not quite yet a demand.

"Oh, uh, I don't know how," she said, looking sideways and biting her lower lip.

Oh, she's good at this innocent act. "You know what to do, just think about how you put your clothes on and do the opposite sweetheart," he winked and waited for her to begin.

She stood there until he swore crickets were going to start chirping. You could see the gears turning in her mind and she thought about her options. Finally she sighed, covertly looked at her watch and started to unbutton her blouse. She slowly warmed up to the game and circled her hips languidly. She pulled one arm out, then paused, teasing him with the slow reveal as she pulled the blouse off and dropped it to the floor. He had been right, she was a slut, she had a red lacey bra underneath her uniform.

"That's right, that's good. Now keep going," he said and stroked himself a little faster, he could feel himself tensing up but wanted to make this last as long as possible. The longer he kept his mind off the woman in his dream, the easier it would be to move past it.

She reached around and unzipped her skirt from the back. She wiggled her hips and dragged it down with deliberate precision. Fuck yeah, she's done this before. He stopped stroking and gripped his cock with both hands, enjoying the clench of his fists.

"Is this good?" she asked, standing in her matching lace panties and bra.

"You're still over dressed," he growled. "Get over here."

He knew they had reached the point in this encounter where he could start demanding, she was eating out of his hand now. She hopped over to the bed and dove on next to him, her smile wide.

"I've never done anything like this," she said, they both knew she was lying. "You're just so fucking hot, I was hoping I'd catch a peak of you when I came in your room," she confessed, blushing. Ahhh so this had all been a set up. His instincts kicked in and he assessed her for risk factor, but nothing alerted him. He always trusted his instincts when it came to threats on his person, in this line of business, that's eventually all you had. This was just another run of the mill sweet young thing who was a little star struck by his good looks and badass ways, hoping to make some extra cash. It's the bike and the tattoos...best thing I ever did to up my game. Those things have gotten me more pussy than a glam rocker in the 70s. Bitches love bikes and bad boys.

He got her out of her panties and bra and paused to enjoy her juicy young body. He didn't linger long, he needed to pop one off and get his day started, so he flipped her over and kicked her knees apart, finding her slit with his fingers and pushing a couple inside of her. She moaned and wiggled, waving her ass in front of him like a red flag in front of an angry bull. There was no holding back now, he grabbed her hair with one hand, wrapped his other arm under her waist and pulled her onto his huge cock. She gasped and bucked against him, instantly making noises of excitement like she was going to cum. I love a woman who can enjoy a good fucking, he thought and slid as far into her as she could handle. He hit the end of her tunnel with a could of inches of him still outside, he swept aside his disappointment, there weren't many women who could handle him balls deep inside of them and at least this one was willing and fun.

He covered her and started pounding into her, pulling her up to meet his thrusts and yanking her head back as he fucked. It was fast and dirty, exactly what he needed right now. She screamed and yelled "fuck yes, fuck yes, I'm coming," right before he shot his load. He could feel her body tense up underneath him, no longer able to support his weight, he collapsed on top of her and groaned his own orgasm. He could feel his dick twitching the release, his hot cum flooding her pussy and oozing out around him. They both panted together, her hair was damp on her neck from the exertions. He bit her there, like a tom cat, and she squealed, then wiggled herself and clenched his slowly receding cock. He paused and enjoyed the feeling, a slow retreat. They lay together for a moment, he let her have that at least before he kicked her out and was on his way.

"Ok, I need to get back to work," she said, a little too loud, startling him. He pulled off her and sat up, she jumped out immediately and got dressed in the blink of an eye. She was definitely a pro, but he didn't mind, it was a nice way to get himself in the right head space to hunt down the traitor.

"Sounds good babe, I need extra towels for the bathroom." He walked to the sink and cleaned himself off, toweled down and tossed it on the floor. He liked making her work for her money.

He got dressed, tight boot cut jeans, a black t shirt, leather boots and jacket. He picked up his helmet on the way out, saw her watching him and said "if you know what's good for you, you'll be back here at midnight." He paused, saw her nod yes and added "oh yeah, here you go," as he tossed her a small roll of bills.

Worth every penny.

*****

Juanita paced back and forth in her kitchen, looking every so often at her phone. She hated Holden so fucking much right now she could spit. Tony was out of town for almost a week and she had the perfect chance to get to know him, and he was blowing her off. For what? She tried to be flirty with him and he fucking walked. She clenched her fists and unclenched them. Men were usually driven stupid over her attentions, this aloof behaviour was just fucking irritating.

She paused when she saw somebody in the driveway next door. She now knew the hot neighbor's name thanks to Louise's clever snooping. Victor Stone, his name sounded like a character straight out of a romance novel, with the smoking hot body to match. She watched him bend down and pick a few weeds from the carefully maintained garden paths lining his walkway. He had landscapers, but she didn't mind the view of him bending over to perfect his flowerbed.

"That's right, get that nasty weed," she giggled at herself and sipped her Cristal. She was feeling foolish now, having opened the expensive bottle to celebrate Holden coming over, she hoped Tony wouldn't notice it was missing. She sighed and wiped her spotless counter tops again. It was lonely when Tony was gone, and she had been planning on having her blues fucked away before he got back, but Holden didn't appear to be playing along. Tony had thrown her a bone before he left, she was certain he believed if he fucked her the night before he was leaving, it would keep her from straying. It had been pretty good, longer than usual and he has been uncharacteristically tender afterwards, kissing her hair and nibbling her neck, telling her how beautiful she was. She almost felt guilty lusting after Holden, but not exactly.

It was almost 4PM and she had done nothing today. Fucking guy, why did she put her life on hold for him? She started to browse the large stainless steel refrigerator to see what the maid had left her for dinner when she heard her phone buzz on the granite counter top. She rushed to it, happy she was alone so nobody could see her almost trip in her excitement.

"Hey babe, you home alone?"

She knew better than to tease him this time, so she immediately texted back "yes, and I'm waiting for you."

"I'll be right over, get your sweet ass ready for me."

She sent him her address and thought if she had a tail, she'd be wagging it in excitement right now. She ran upstairs to freshen up, brush her teeth and apply lip gloss. The door bell rang and she did her best to maintain her composure as she went downstairs to open it.

"Hey babe," he greeted her and walked in. His presence in her foyer was immense, he was larger than life. A tall man, and solid muscle, it wasn't that though, he had a big energy. He commanded attention, that's what it was, he commanded.

"Hi!" she replied, instantly wishing she hadn't sounded so valley girlish.

"Nice digs, your husband gone as planned?"

"He's out of town for a few days, I was hoping I'd see you."

"I'm sure you were," he said and pulled her into a deep kiss. His tongue was demanding, he tasted like cinnamon sugar, and he owned her mouth within seconds of entering it. Her knees buckled and he grabbed her waist, holding her up. She had never swooned before, but her head felt light and her legs felt weak.

He pulled away, looked at her with those intense blue eyes and said "can I get a glass of water?"

"I've got better things to drink," she said, out of breath. She held her hand to her chest and found her balance before she walked to the kitchen. He trailed behind her and said "no, water's good for now."

She got a bottle from the refrigerator and he said "I prefer it from the tap." She frowned and took a glass out of the cupboard. She walked to the sink and began to fill it, noticing Victor still in the yard working on something by his hedges. Holden walked up behind her, reached around, took the glass and she heard him swallow. He pressed himself up against her from behind and said "you like your neighbor?"

"Oh, no, not at all. I was just seeing what he's up to, if he cuts too much hedge, Mrs. Decker will flip her old lady wig. That's the next house over," she replied, hoping he'd buy it. He didn't.

"You seem to like him," he said, setting the glass down and reaching under her skirt. "You seem to like him a lot." He slipped a finger into her panties, down the front to the top of her slit. She gave a small gasp and adjusted herself to receive him. His finger slid farther down, getting slick as it plowed through her juices and found her clit. She was breathing heavily now, watching Victor and feeling Holden. He rubbed gently at first, then applied speed and pressure until she thought she was going to explode. She came fast and hard, a shuddering cry and tremble. She bent over the sink and caught her breath.

She heard him unzip his pants and felt the warmth of his cock pressing up against her. She spread her feet apart and, he pulled her panties down to her ankles and she tilted her ass back to open her pussy to him. He teased her with the head, sliding in and out a few times until she begged him "please!". He thrust inside of her, burying his length inside of her, pushing up inside of her until she felt like she couldn't breath. He leaned over top of her and whispered in her ear "yeah, that's right bitch, look at him and think about getting fucked by both of us. Think about sucking his dick and feeling mine filling you up from the other end. That's right, imagine us tag teaming you, fucking you so hard you don't know who's cock is buried inside of you, you'd like that Juanita, wouldn't you?"

She mumbled her reply more of a low guttural animal sound than a yes, but he got the hint. He continued fucking her over the sink in front of the window while Victor tended his plants. Juanita saw stars, brief flashes of firework bursts, she came so hard she thought she was going to pass out. Holden gripped her waist and pulled her down onto him, thrusting up one last time and grunted his release. She felt a wet warmth filling her up, then he pulled out of her with a pop and stepped away. She couldn't move, she didn't care that she was bent over her sink with her skirt up, her panties pulled down and his seed running out of her. She didn't care that the neighbours might have seen them, might have heard them. She just cared about Holden, his cock and the way he made her feel. She quivered at the thought of the shit they could get up to in the next few days and almost fell as she straightened up. She slid her panties into place, pulled her skirt down, brushed her hair down, turned to him and said "would you care for something to eat?"

*****

Holden bent Juanita over the sink to get a better look at the neighbor. He was sure it was that rat bastard traitor asshole who had caused a world of trouble for Roscoe back home. He concentrated on not blowing his load too early so he could get a really good long look. It was him, he was sure of it now. He almost came in triumph, but decided to settle in to enjoying Juanita's fine ass and tight pussy instead. She could take him, for her small stature, she knew how to fuck. He was balls deep in her when he shot his load, then pulled out and watched her come to her senses. He had a few days to plan his move, and a few days to play with this one. It was going to be enjoyable, that he knew, and the girl from his dream was already becoming a distant memory and he watched Juanita prepare a small snack before they got back to fucking. He looked once more outside, the rat had gone back into his house, but Holden smiled anyhow. Finding him felt good, but killing him would feel even better.

Click here to read CHAPTER SEVEN!

SLUTBURBIA - Chapter Five - The Competition

Anna creeped up the stairs slowly, careful to be quiet so as not to wake her husband. 

"What the hell, Anna?" Jackson hissed at her from his pillow, "Why is she calling this late?  It's the third time this week."  Crap.  She'd hoped he would fall back asleep while she was downstairs on the phone.  

"Babe, she's just upset," she whispered sweetly, "She and Brandon are having problems again."  

Not a total lie, Anna told herself.  Sarah and Brandon were having problems, but it was mostly because Sarah was spending so much time with Anna.  She'd tried telling her friend that their relationship was just sex and friendship, but Sarah kept insisting she was in love.  As if that weren't enough of a problem, Anna was increasingly worried about how possessive her friend was becoming, too.  She'd already told Sarah a dozen times that they'd have to cool it, the Book Club girls were getting suspicious, but here it was past midnight and she'd just called again to bitch her out over playing tennis with Margarita Harrison that afternoon.  Sarah couldn't stand that she was spending so much time with somebody else, and Anna had to promise her she wouldn't see her again just to get her off the phone.  Sarah really needed to lay off the Ambien.  It made her weird.

And now Jackson was starting to ask too many questions.  She'd have to distract him.  Anna pulled off her robe and slid under the sheet to rub her naked body against his.  She ran her tiny hands over the bulging muscles on his back and pressed her double D's against him eagerly.  They both slept in the nude, a promise they'd made each other when they were first married.  It paid off when she needed to throw him off the interrogation track; an enthusiastic blow job will throw any man off the scent of their wife screwing around.  Well, not really screwing around.  It's not like she'd ever actually had sex with anybody.  Not really.

Jackson would never have to worry about her sleeping with any other men.  Not when she came home every night to that gorgeous, big-hearted, big-dicked doctor that women only read about in romance novels.  She'd loved him the moment she first saw him on campus all those years ago.  Jackson was the famous local college quarterback with a promising career in the NFL, sluts were lining up to make him fall in love.  But he'd only had eyes for Anna, the petite blond with the honey gold hair, the natural breasts and the child-bearing hips.  They'd fallen in love over night, got married the summer after his senior year, and moved into a tiny apartment.  He'd given up the NFL for med school, and Anna had worked long hours at Hooters to pay the bills while he studied.  It was terrible, she hated the perverts who came in demanding she flirt and stroke their egos while delivering their chicken wings.  It paid off though.  Jackson had graduated in the top of his class and halfway through his residency he was offered a coveted position at the local Children's Hospital.  He loved that job.  He was always perfecting some new magic trick or surfing the internet for little surprises to put a smile on some patient's face.  Any woman would kill to have married Jackson, to have him lust after her the way he still lusted after Anna.  She'd never find another man more devoted to her, or a man who looked so damn good naked.  

It was just the occasional romp with another hot housewife that interested her.  He'd indulged her a few times in college, she'd sworn it was just a phase that would pass after they were married and started a family.  But she'd never been able to shake the occasional craving for a woman's soft hands against her flesh, and she couldn't bring herself to tell him.  He'd never understand and she worried it would only hurt his feelings to know that sometimes she needed something he couldn't give her.  So she lied.  Well, she didn't lie.  She just didn't tell him.

Anna ran her hands over the smooth skin and tight muscles in his shoulders.  "Let's not talk about Sarah," she purred, "Roll over and let me put your dick in my mouth."  

He instantly obliged, rolling onto his back and letting out a long exhale.  Anna didn't waste her time using her hands, she inched down his body like a snake, dragging her titties along his chest and stomach, her hot breath against his skin until she reached his already hard dick.  She took her time licking and nibbling his perfectly cut dickhead until he moaned and in one swift move she took the entire shaft down her throat.  She sucked it slowly at first and then picked up the tempo until he said he was about to cum, and she purposefully let it slip out of her mouth.  

"Oh fuck, baby," Jackson breathed hoarsely, "You're so good."  She was already wet, his dick responding the way it did was such a turn on.  He reached down to play with her nipples, and her clit started to throb.  God, how she loved him.  Anna ran her hands up his chest to his hard nipples as she sucked and nibbled on his balls, then licked up his shaft until she circled the head with her tongue.  

"I can't take it," he growled, "Bend over."  He went to his knees in a matter of seconds and wrapped a strong arm under Anna's waist, pulling her hips up to meet his.  She loved when he did that, took over like a caveman, unable to control his attraction to her.  The feeling of his rocked cock driving into her pussy for the first time that night was too much and she screamed with pleasure.  She reached back to finger her clit and her excitement built as he drove his dick harder and harder into her.  

"Make yourself cum, baby," he ordered, "Let me feel it."  She rubbed her clit harder and felt his dick pulsing inside of her, then collapsed as the orgasm rushed over her.  Jackson held her steady at the waist as he pumped harder, driving his cock into her as far as he could, until her moans finally pushed him over the edge and she felt him cum inside of her.  He pulled out slowly and she turned around, putting his dick back into her warm mouth, working him slowly from the tip to the base until he shuddered and pushed her away gently.

They lay on the bed, their breathing short and labored until Jackson reached over and stroked her hair and whispered his nightly, "I love you, sugar."  

"I love you, too," she said as she threw her arm over his chest, listening to his breathing slow until he fell asleep.

Mission accomplished, she thought.  She loved him more than anything in this world, and she'd do anything for him, she'd proved it over and over.  She cradled him protectively, overwhelmed by how lucky she was to have such a man to love her so completely.  If she could just get Sarah to back off, life would be perfect.

***

Anna was late getting to the club, she'd been distracted by that shirtless biker she kept seeing drive through the neighborhood.  Every morning, like clockwork, she'd hear the rumble of his bike and she'd peek through the blinds to watch him drive slowly past her house.  His motorcycle was too loud.  And what was with those tattoos?  He looked dirty, like he didn't belong there.  Who drives around without a shirt on?  She'd raced out the door early, hoping to follow him discreetly to see where he was going, but he'd lost her when he'd pulled out in front of oncoming traffic, not caring that he was supposed to yield.  Who does that?  

Ordinarily she could count on somebody to call her up in a panic over the slightest homeowner infraction.  Leaving your garage door open or failing to cut the grass were just causes for rioting in this town.  Just last week, Louise had called in a rage because the old lady next door was always leaving her garbage can on the street days after the trash had been picked up.  It was surprising that nobody had mentioned the shirtless inked up biker polluting their perfectly landscaped streets.  Anna made a mental note to get online later and see who'd bought houses in the neighborhood recently.

In the meantime, she was late for her doubles match with Margarita.  Margarita was the new tennis instructor at the club, and if Anna had anything to say about it, she was going to be her new best friend, too.  She was the only other woman Anna knew who didn't have any kids.  Well, except for Juanita, but Juanita was more of an acquaintance, she was Louise's friend.  Anna hadn't really liked Juanita, she tried too hard to fit in, but she never smiled.  When she'd mentioned having worked at Hooters, Juanita looked like she was going to choke on her crab cake.  It was like she had a superiority complex.  And her husband was an asshole.  She hadn't told anybody, but Tony had tried to slip his hand up her skirt a few weeks back.  They'd been at Louise's birthday party and he'd followed her into the kitchen pretending to look for Juanita.  Anna laughed out loud remembering his face when she'd pull the knife from the block and threatened to cut his dick off.  Idiot.  

Juanita was an idiot, too.  Her Book Club was a joke, Anna was the only person who ever read the books.  That was another reason she'd like Margarita so much.  Margarita was smart, she appreciated all of Anna's references to literature and current events.  It was nice to talk to somebody whose conversations weren't limited to sex and pop culture.  Margarita had been around the world, she'd seen things, she was witty.  And educated.  Anna was drawn to smart people.  She tried to tell herself that's all it was, but walking onto the court that morning, seeing her new friend practicing her serve on the court, Anna had to admit part of the attraction was that Margarita looked like Helena Christianson, but with tennis legs.

She wasn't tall, only a few inches taller than Anna, maybe 5'7", but her tanned skin and her chiseled legs were perfect.  Her eyes were blue ice just below her straight dark bangs, and her long ponytail swished back and forth when she jumped to serve the ball.  Anna wondered what her breasts would look like when she pulled off that tight sports bra.  She shook away the thought, desperate to get back to normalcy with Jackson.  He was being honored at the gala later by the county's Medical Society.  He'd raised more than half a million dollars for the new cancer wing at the hospital, and he deserved her full attention today.  She needed to focus on her backhand, get through the match and go home to start getting ready for the awards banquet.  

The game was over too quickly though, and Anna found herself disappointed when Margarita told her she had another appointment.  She wasn't ready for the morning to be over.

"Maybe we can have lunch?" she asked, putting her racket into her bag.

"Totally!" Margarita said excitedly, "I'll be done around noon, wanna meet in the lounge?"

"Sure," Anna said, trying to sound casual, "See you in a bit."  

Margarita skipped off to the next court, her ponytail bouncing back and forth.  Anna made her way to the locker room, cursing herself for being so conflicted.  Why couldn't she just get in her car and go home?  It's just lunch, she told herself.  She was wondering what to do with herself for the next hour and a half when Margarita called after her, "Hey!  They have an extra, wanna join us?"

Anna's heart thumped excitedly and she turned to join them for another match.

***

The workout was exactly what Anna needed, she'd been able to focus on the game and she'd stopped wondering what Margarita's fingers would feel like inside of her.  They chatted easily as they made their way into the empty locker room.  Anna threw her bag on the bench and walked to the mirror to see how bad her make-up looked.  She felt a rush of nerves, watching in the mirror as Margarita walked up behind her.  She reached down and stretched Anna's hands up in the air, then took her shirt off and cupped her large breasts with her tiny hands.

"I know what you want," Margarita whispered in her ear.  Anna's face went red and her panties flooded.  Had she been so transparent?  How could she possibly know?  Anna hadn't wanted to admit it to herself, but Margarita was right.  She wanted to feel her hands on her, to smell her skin, to taste her.  But she couldn't get involved with somebody else, especially not when she was still trying to get rid of Sarah.  And more importantly, Jackson deserved better.  She laughed and turned to Margarita, putting her hands gently to her face.

"I do want it," Anna said and kissed her softly on the mouth, "But it's not a good time, maybe we can revisit it later?"  Margarita put one hand on Anna's breast and another inside her skirt, slipping a single finger under the tight elastic until it found the wet spot it sought.  She licked Anna's neck until she reached her ear.  It was heaven, Anna needed to stop her.

"Are you sure?" Margarita asked softly, stroking Anna's wet slit under her skirt.  Anna felt her legs weaken and moved to grab Margarita's wrists, worried that she would lose her resolve to put an end to it.  Whatever it was.

"I'm sure," Anna said seriously, "You are so hot, Margarita, I really like you, but I've got to be careful.  Another time."

Margarita laughed throatily and reached down to hand Anna her shirt back, "Suit yourself, girlfriend.  I'll be here when you're ready."

They freshened up for lunch and walked towards the lounge, Anna laughing at a story Margarita was telling.  This girl was funny.  But then she choked herself silent as she looked over and saw Sarah watching her.  Her white hair was unmistakable, she stood stoic on the far side of the catwalk near the club lounge.  Her face was angry.  And hurt.  

Dang it, Anna thought.  She was supposed to be at work, why was she at the club?  She knew she'd have to say something to her, she smiled and waved as she approached, pretending to listen to rest of Margarita's story, but then Sarah flipped her the bird and turned to leave.  Anna was stunned.

"What was that about?" Margarita asked incredulously.  

"I have no idea," Anna lied, "Maybe she forgot her Prozac this morning."

Crap.

***

Anna took a few blocks in the neighborhood before heading home, but the shirtless biker was nowhere to be seen.  She drove by Juanita's to see if he'd moved into the house next door, the nice couple who lived there had moved out unexpectedly the month before, and she remembered seeing a moving van when she'd gone to the Book Club a few weeks before.  She parked in front of Juanita's and pulled out her cell phone, pretending to do some texting before she went up to knock on Juanita's door.  She didn't really want to knock on Juanita's door at all, but she needed an excuse to check out the new neighbors who appeared not to be home.  The girl who lived across the street was home though.  Jenny.  Ugh.  Didn't she have a job?  What was she doing home this time of the day?  She watched as Jenny walked across the street to the new family's house, she was carrying a casserole or something.  

Poor Jenny.  Anna tried to befriend her when she first moved in, but she was just so rude.  It was like she'd been treated badly for so long, she didn't know how to let people be nice to her.  But here she was taking this family a casserole?  Maybe I judged her too quickly, Anna decided.  She'd have to try and be nicer to her.  Maybe she'd invite her to the Book Club.

Jenny rang the doorbell and a smoking hot guy answered.  Definitely not the inked up biker.  They exchanged a few words and Jenny stepped inside.  Anna thought about ringing Juanita's doorbell so she could stick around and see what happened, but decided she'd just go home instead.  Nothing was worth listening to Juanita drone on about how hard it was to be alone all the time while Tony was gone.  As if Anna hadn't seen right through her, everybody knew Juanita was screwing around.

She turned for home, it was best just to spend some time relaxing before she got ready for the banquet.  Anna drove the few blocks to her house and turned down her street, slowing as she approached the house.  Holy CRAP.  Was that Sarah parked down the street?

We're in full blown stalker mode now, Anna thought.  Just great.

click here to read CHAPTER SIX!