How many times does someone have to read and reread the same paragraph before they put their book down? Or, in this case, e-book? Starting generously, three? Four? I’d read the same sentence close to 5 times, but my heart was pounding, and the tablet I was holding had absolutely none of my interest. I finally put it down, taking a few seconds to enjoy the heat from the early August sun, while I considered skipping to the good part of my routine: Fuck myself into oblivion, meal prep, back to oblivion, and go to bed. Ordinary Sunday stuff, right?
I rolled onto my stomach, letting my back and legs soak up some rays, while my pussy drooled through the thin strip of material my bikini provided. My ass, plump and plugged, practically ate the thong bottoms, and I could feel the slim metal handle of my toy warming in the sun. I peeked down, between my breasts, at my pinched little nipples. I’d gotten gold colored clamps - gold was one of my colors, and matched most of the toys I owned in some way or another. I groaned and grabbed the e-reader. A few more minutes tanning and putting effort into my routine of denial before escaping inside to finish myself would be all the sweeter once my first orgasm ripped through me like a thunderclap in a drought.
“... He grabbed her shoulders from behind, groaning her name into her ear like it was being torn from his tattered soul, before kissing and sucking on that spot that made her toes curl. The nape of her neck was left scattered with bruises that she would have a hard time explaining to her husband tomorrow, but God, he felt good, and she couldn’t resist the…”
“Hello?!”
I jumped. Someone was speaking to me from the other side of the fence. Someone was in my yard, speaking to me through two inches of wooden sheet, while I completed my masturbation pre-game ritual. What in the Sam Fuck?
“Hello! It’s your backyard neighbor! The Hensen’s? We moved into 3025 Gardner Street last week, and we are having a small block party to acquaint ourselves with the neighbors. Come join us!” Jeremy Hensen, apparently, said excitedly from the other side of my fence. I froze, trying to decide if I could flatten myself and scuttle into the house on my fingers and toes like a naughty spider, caught diddling in my own web. I wondered belatedly if this is how animals felt when caught by humans, fucking in their natural habitats.
“I know you're home! I can hear your music playing back here, and we would love to formally meet you!” Jeremy called through again, seemingly having gotten bored with my silence and boundaries.
“Um, I’m in a swimsuit, not really in the clothes for company!” I called back quickly.
“No worries! It is a pool party! Everyone is suited up over here!” He replied, and I considered throwing something over the fence to crush him. My flip-flop was not nearly formidable enough.
“I actually don’t have much time today, but I could stop by another time. I just have to get myself ready for work tomorrow,” I over-explained, stuttering over the lie.
“No, no. I promise I won’t keep you out more than 10 minutes! I’ll even start a timer! My wife has been so excited to meet you, and it would just make her day! Please?” He pleaded back, “Don’t make me hop this fence!” He was laughing to himself, obviously joking, but I was up and grabbing my duster in a heartbeat. There was a creaky noise on the other side of the fence, and I went into hyper-drive, throwing the sheer black cover on and tucking myself tightly into it before tying the sash. I nearly pulled the damn gate off the hinges, opening it to that man.
The Hensens, both, were tall and fiercely striking. The male, Jeremy, had dark, near-black hair that was cut a bit long on top and shorter to the sides, while the female, Alice, was perfectly blonde in every campaign commercial I’d seen her in. Standing in front of the towering man, with his trimmed hair and perfectly blue eyes, made my anger fizzle out a bit and left an uncomfortable ache in my lower belly. I started to speak, but realized I was still clutching the tablet in my hands like a shield… or a weapon? I closed the gate, putting it back on my lounger, before pulling the door open again and staring at him.
“Ready?” He asked excitedly, his slightly hard grin making me want to punch.
“I can’t, really. I’m not appropriate for company,” I said, trying to put on my most earnest, concerned face.
“No problem, really! Come with me!” He said, then swooped an arm around my shoulders and out into the yard before I really knew I was moving. Panic struck and thudded through me, whipping inside my head and sending shocks of anguish at the idea of my neighbors discovering I was some sort of pervert. Could I be arrested? I vowed to myself to run away if I saw a single child show up. I would not end up on a sex offender registry because of an over-enthusiastic neighbor and his darling wife. I resolutely stared at my feet, hoping to dampen the blush burning up my chest and across my cheeks before we met anyone else. The walk was short, from backyard to backyard, but I channeled my energy into looking put together and appropriate, at least as much as I could given the circumstances.
“Hey everyone! I was able to get the neighborhood hermit to join!” Jeremy announced, mere seconds after I realized I’d shoved my flip-flops on the wrong feet, and I jolted my head up with an expression of what could only be construed as abject horror.
Mary and Joe Ackles, from across the pool, waved ‘hello’ and the widow Annie Anderson gave a half-hearted, “Hey,” from the jacuzzi where she was tits up and enjoying the bubbles with some of the other biddies in the neighborhood. Surprisingly, there seemed to be a good turnout and, though I remained cautious, it seemed like there were only adults at the welcoming party.
“Hi,” I said weakly, giving a little wave, before turning to my gracious host and glaring daggers.
“Oh, yes! We are on a timer! 2 minutes have elapsed, so let’s go find Alice!” He said back, pantomiming checking his watch. He was a douche bag, an idiot, or had an agenda, I decided, looking over his perfect features and immaculate clothes and shiny watch. Probably political, considering his wife was the Magistrate and he seemed to be pulling me toward her at an alarming rate. Perfect Alice, too, was dressed to the nines - considering their current, slightly geriatric company - and was holding a congregation at the punch bowl with a story that seemed to make her eyes actually, really sparkle the way they did in her commercials. I had to hand it to them. They really were put together well, and I felt every bit inferior, with my tiny bikini and my toy stuffed ass.
“Alice, here is the well-known recluse, Miss. Olivia Murphy! I’ve brought her over so you can finally meet!” Jeremy said, grabbing my shoulders and thrusting me forward like a human sacrifice. Would she unhinge her jaw and swallow my head like a snake? Why was she looking at me like I was a nice steak on a platter? Jeremy, too, was so close behind me, and his hands were still resting on my shoulders, rubbing soft circles with his thumbs. Jeremy started, “She is on a bit of a time limit, so it will need to be a bit quick!”
“Olivia!” Alice started toward me. “I’m so glad to meet you! Female entrepreneurs are a bit of a rarity, especially with the notoriety and reach you clearly have in the community! It is so good to finally meet! Come, you must see the house; the renovations on the 3rd floor are to die for…” She continued talking while both Mr. and Mrs. Hensen worked on pulling me into the house, making polite assurances that she would finish her story to the neighbors she had left bereft of her company on the way past. I started tensing, unfortunately pulling my plug deeper into myself, eliciting an almost gasp.
The Hensen’s rushed me through their home, pointing out new cabinets and granite counters in a kitchen I had never once seen before. At some point, Mr. Hensen had unhanded me, and I was able to half-convincingly switch my shoes to the correct feet while they both made show arms in their living room about the remodeled fireplace and new built-ins.
“Finally, we want to show you our favorite part,” the Mrs. said, conspiratorially. She, too, grabbed my shoulders and steered me to the stairs leading to the third floor. I swear, I could feel her breath on my neck and the hairs raised expectantly while the ache in my stomach grew. When I got home, I was going to plow myself thoroughly and call it a night. I could DoorDash lunch, for fucks sake.
“Oh, um, you can go up first,” I said, considering the alternative of her peeking up my duster at the golden handle wedged firmly in my ass crack.
“No, no - Jeremy, show her the way, and I’ll follow you up!” Alice said, taking up the rear in our fucked up procession while he peered down at me from the steps, ensuring I was following. I snagged the bottom of my duster to pull over my barely-covered cheeks and started up the steps. It felt like it took hours, and my plug worked inside me, the round balls of it rubbing me harshly as I climbed the steps. Once on the top floor, I stepped away for a moment, my back away from them, as I tried to calm my breathing and absorb their words.
The top floor, on three sides, had built-in cabinets painted a dusky, olive drab color with a white ceiling covered in wooden applique and dark, chocolate wooden floors that seemed polished to a mirror finish. The last wall, facing the backyard, was a floor-to-ceiling window that looked out onto the neighborhood. Alice displayed the cabinets, pulling out a Murphy bed and some of the drawers, which seemed to be fancy junk drawers. One held several different kinds of rope and twine, another with candles, and a third with random metal bits. I couldn’t help but wonder how much they had spent on their very beautiful storage room while taking in the additional chairs facing the large window, a small bar in the corner, and a large, flat-screen television hooked up to a VHS tape player. Who in this century still owned a VHS tape, let alone a player for them?
“Come see our favorite part!” Alice said, rejoining me and taking one of my hands to pull me in front of the large window. Jeremy joined her on my other side as we took in the view. If I was being honest with myself, the view really was a showstopper. A bird’s-eye view into our cozy neighborhood. I looked down at the guests enjoying the pool in their yard and smiled, in spite of myself, as it looked like everyone was having a grand time. It was quite amazing how close we were to the party but miles apart, like flies on the wall.
It occurred to me, roughly at the same time I saw Bett Maise pelt the widower Mr. Kent with a beach ball, that my fenced-in backyard was also quite visible. The tablet I had left on the lounge was lit up, displaying a slideshow of book covers, some of which I recognized. I could see my bed through the glass doors that led to my room. I could also see the scattered assortment of bathing suits I had hunted through before picking one of my sluttiest options. I swear, something audibly cracked in my neck with the speed I turned to look at Alice - who was looking at me again with that hungry look. I turned toward Jeremy just as quickly, who was smiling at me in a predatory way with a pair of binoculars in his hand.
“This… This is our favorite view. Best in the city. Would you like to look?” he asked, his voice a little gruffer than before while he held out the binoculars to me. A sound escaped my throat halfway between a squeak and a moan. Then a timer went off on his watch, and he frowned. “Unfortunately, that is the end of our ten minutes. I’ll walk you out.” He said.
“Here! Take our numbers!” Alice said, shoving a piece of paper into my hands as a seeming flood of fluid sprang from my needy cunt. My body was on fire and I numbly, meekly, like a lamb walked between them out of the house. I am not sure when they stopped following, but I was back at my garden gate and alone by the time I remembered myself. The party seemed to be wrapping up, and I could vaguely hear Alice apologizing to their guests and wishing everyone safe travels home.
I stepped through the gate, slowly collecting my e-reader and phone, sunglasses, and hat before sliding open my bedroom door and stepping into the glass fishbowl I now knew I lived in. When I turned to slide the door shut, my eyes unwillingly or unwittingly traveled up to the large window overlooking my home, and a pulse ran through my core. The window was tinted.
They could see me, but I couldn’t see them. Regardless, I knew they were watching now, and for reasons that probably needed psychological review, I was so fucking excited.
