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The Neighbor: Part I

Frank has a tough time communicating with his younger neighbour whom he finds very attractive.
Frank knew nothing of love and had often wondered what hid behind it. That unknown thing that seemed to make him wonder in an impassioned way the reason behind young lover's smiles and breathless looks of awe. He was struck with curiosity wherever he went, to find that rare sentiment flowering almost everybody around him. They all seemed happier that way.

The days spent alone, he always thought to himself, were wasted days and deep inside his tortured mind he knew of the mysteries beyond his own private sanctuary; he frequently saw this mystery in hisneighbour, Jill. She was a dark-haired and blue-eyed beauty with an addiction to 'older men'. She herself was merely twenty-two; Frank had asked her of her age one day, on his way to the laundry room. His mind rushed frenziedly, pondering on one question after the other, and the only words that escaped his lips were, "how old are you, Jill?"

Jill Spence was not the kind of girl that would laugh at Frank's solitary and loveless fate behind closed doors. She was naturally polite and seemed very much understanding, and that fascinated Frank in a way that led him to think of her whenever he found the chance to. But they hardly exchanged a word to each other. It was typical middle-aged shyness, Frank said to himself, that stopped him from touching her hand 'by accident' on their trips to the laundry room, or smiling whenever their eyes met in the hallway. It was a matter of truth that Jill never lacked company in her small apartment. The walls were surprisingly thin and Frank found himself watching television with the volume so high the walls quivered. It was on a daily basis that the jealousy rose the heat in him and in the mornings he could feel the smile forcing itself, taking form in his pallid face when they bumped into each other casually.

It was on an afternoon of April when Frank returned from his work when he collided into Jill. She was in a rush to meet somebody new; he could see the lust in her eyes and his jaw clenched thinking of her next encounter in the dark.

"Good afternoon, Jill," his voice was like ice.

"Hey, Frank, you're home early."


"Yeah... well, I gotta go. Nice talking to you."

He glared viciously past his shoulder as she galloped down the creaky steps. Moments later, her footsteps were heard no more. Frank entered his apartment bitterly and without thinking it, he slammed the door and his fist hit the wall, passing right through it. He screamed aloud, but not in pain, but in agony. Why was he hurting after so long? Why now? He had lived his life beside Jill for months and his feelings toward her were nothing but simple greetings in the mornings and evenings. Were his feelings now transforming because he was finally aware of her doings?

Frank had fallen asleep on his couch after having wrapped his injured fist in a bandage. He awoke only to hear incessant knocking on his door. He got on his feet lazily and dragged himself to open the door. Jill stood there in an orange nightgown, almost see-through. Frank held his breath and kept his eyes glued to her face.

"It's movie night,"


"Friday nights are movie nights."

"For who?"



"No...." Frank watched her shift her gaze to the floor and then onto him again. "But ... I'm alone right now. Come on, I can't watch The Exorcist by myself. I'll crap my pants."

"I've seen it,"

"Did you like it?"

"No, which is why I won't watch it again,"

Frank chose his seat in the single armchair beside her television. He could see Jill from the corner of his eye staring straight at him. He turned to face her and their eyes met for an instant. She had a way of sending shivers down his spine with her blue glance and he smiled at her to conceal his unease.

"Come sit over here, Frank," she said, almost in whisper.

He got up and sat beside her. He left a space between them, enough to keep his distance and yet he feared she would think he did not wish to be so close. He edged a little closer until his knee brushed hers and without expecting it, Jill's hand swooped down and took a hold of his. He looked down at his hand held firmly in hers and it crossed his mind, for a second, if it was anappropriatetime to kiss her.

"Why are you sweating?"


Frank was seconds away from replying, just as The Exorcist began. The large red letters forming on the blackbackgroundbrought him back to his childhood when he first saw the movie. He was twelve years old and never again watched it for thirty years.

Jill reached for the remote and the screen went black. He looked to her, puzzled.

"I didn't bring you here to watch a movie. I wanna tell you something,"

"What might that be?"

Frank felt his pulse racing and the heat rising to his neck. He was nervous and he usually never felt this way.

"I think you're hot,"

Frank blinked, and re-winded the words in his mind. They seemed real enough and not a figment of his imagination.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"I heard,"


"Well.... what about those other guys?"


"You know who."

Jill smiled and bit her bottom lip.

"You hear us?"

"It's impossible not to. It's like hearing... a banshee,"

Jill laughed at the comment and she edged closer to him until Frank could feel her knees upon his lap. He clinched his fists, which hung by his sides, and winced once feeling a sharp pain in his bandaged left hand. Jill looked down and gasped slightly.

"What happened to you?"


"You were fine this afternoon,"

"I said it's nothing,"

Frank got up and tried to ignore the look of curiosity that she gave him when he did so. He glanced at her thighs and his heart jumped. They were slightly parted and he could make out a speck of pink flesh in between. He looked away quickly and turned his attention to the window. It was black outside and there was nothing to see, really, but he had to turn away from her. He walked to it and feigned looking at the stars. He heard her approaching and he breathed out once her arms wrapped around him from behind.

"Do you want me?" she whispered lustfully in his ear.

Frank felt the shivers travelling throughout his body like electricity once her hand slid down his chest and stopped at the one place where he felt warm.

"I knew you were hung, Frank, I knew it,"

Her hand grasped at his groin firmly, but not viciously, and a gasp escaped his cruel lips.

"That day when we bumped into each other, I dropped the letters and you bent down to pick them up.... I knew you were looking at me.... whenever I get the chance, I try to look at your cock...."

Frank turned around and Jill grabbed a tuft of his dark hair, and he was pulled toward her in an almost savage way. Their lips met with an apprehensive passion that quickly turned to lustful desire. Frank devoured her lips hungrily, sliding his tongue into her opened mouth as his hands went to her front and parted her robe. Her body looked familiar somehow; it resembled the body of a Greek goddess he often admired in awe during his frequent trips to the museum. It was pale, slim and smooth; the ultimate picture of perfection. Her breasts, the colour white of milk were average sized and slightly perky and her pink nipples felt erect beneath his large fingers. He felt the muscle of pole between his legs grow warmer and stiffer by the second.

"If we do this," she whispered in his ear. "there can't be any feelings involved, okay?"

He nodded and buried his lips against hers. Frank did not care for words that instant. All he cared for was the body he craved.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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