Girls Next Door

by Sandy Lowe

  She started showing up out of nowhere at the most inopportune times over the summer. Once when I was washing my car she suddenly appeared at my back offering to help. I screamed, she laughed, and then I declined the offer—which was very difficult considering her short shorts and my hatred for washing cars, but I made a promise. I could swear she looked disappointed when she headed back inside, but I have an active imagination. The next time was when she insisted on helping me bring in my groceries. I only had five bags, but three were already in her hands before I could refuse the offer.

  “Wow,” she said as soon as she stepped into my home. “You’ve really changed this place. I remember how dark it was when Mr. Mattsson lived here. This is nice.” Samantha spoke the whole time she followed me into the kitchen, which was a relief. I muttered a small thank you when she set the bags on the counter. I know it was probably rude, not offering a drink or snack, but my mind was focused on getting her out of my space because honestly, she looked very good and very comfortable right where she stood. “You’re very quiet.” Her observation went unacknowledged by me, out of spite or stupidity, I’m not sure which, but it’s probably the latter.

  “Okay.” Samantha giggled, and I wanted to kick myself in the mouth for smiling in response. “My parents are having a barbecue this weekend and wanted me to invite you. That’s why I was heading over here. I hope you can make it.” She stood so bashfully in the middle of my small kitchen, hands in the back pockets of her jeans and staring at the floor, I was helpless.

  “I can. I mean I will.” I cleared my dusty throat. “I’ll be there. I love barbecues.” I offered up the words and immediately regretted them. They were just as good as “I carried a watermelon”—I groaned inwardly at the Dirty Dancing reference Samantha was surely too young to understand.

  “Great!” She seemed genuinely pleased, and I was genuinely surprised. Her smile was brilliant and my heart skipped a beat. I was screwed. I’d be lucky if I could contain myself to just having a crush on her. “I’ll see you Saturday at four, Andy who loves barbecues.” Samantha left with a wink, and once the door shut behind her I exhaled heavily. Great, she had jokes, too.

  How dare she intimidate me in my own home?

  *

  “Andy is in construction, isn’t that right?” Mrs. Sanderson was delightful, but it irked me she felt the need to include me in every conversation. Her friend’s leaky faucet was hardly a good segue to construction jobs.

  “I’m an architect, but I’ve always preferred the hands-on side of the business,” I answered, even though all I honestly cared about was getting another burger and beer. I wasn’t lying when I said I love barbecues. Babbling? Yes. Lying? No.

  “Architect? Really?” I heard Samantha before I saw her. I had actually started to believe that she wouldn’t be caught dead at her parents’ small get-together. I was wrong.

  “Yes, sweetheart, she’s working on the new bank in town.”

  “Interesting.” Samantha eyed me curiously.

  “Not really.” I tried to end the personal conversation there, but Samantha wasn’t having it.

  “Construction doesn’t surprise me. It explains how this,” she motioned up and down my body, “looks so good.” My blush set my face aflame. I would’ve sworn I was on fire.

  “I said the same thing!” Mrs. Sanderson nearly squealed. Like mother, like daughter, apparently. Samantha shared a bright smile with her mother before her eyes settled on me again. “I thought for sure she spent hours at the gym, but I was wrong.” Mrs. Sanderson wasn’t helping matters.

  “I’m surprised you got that much out of her, Mom, I’ve yet to hear her manage more than a few words.” Samantha was teasing me. I knew it, she knew it, but somehow no one else in the circle could see the small horns sprouting out from her gorgeous head.

  “Andy?” Mrs. Sanderson looked at me in surprise, and all I could muster up was a weak shrug. “She’s a chatterbox!” I looked down at my empty bottle and hoped that with enough prayer I could manage to just disappear.

  “Need another drink? I’ll walk with you to the cooler.” Samantha looped her arm in mine and led the way. I looked back to the small group. They were all oblivious to my desperation to be called back.

  “Talkative with one Sanderson woman and completely silent with the other. What’s that all about?” Samantha reached into the cooler and fished out two dripping bottles. I admired her denim-clad backside momentarily before accepting the offered beer. I screwed off the top with the hem of my T-shirt and took my first sip to buy some time. Apparently my days of avoiding Samantha were over. I waited for the sizzle of the carbonation to leave my tongue before smiling slightly and speaking.

  “Closer in age, more in common, I guess?” I could feel myself start to give in and wanted to play along, but deep down I knew I shouldn’t.

  “So you’re a fan of daytime talk shows and scrapbooking, too?” Samantha followed my lead, opening her bottle with the hem of her tank top, but she made a show out of it by lifting the material an extra few inches to reveal her abdomen. I noticed the slight glimmer of a navel piercing. I shook my head both to answer her question and to clear my less-than-innocent thoughts away.

  “Work, life, gardens—all that boring stuff.” Samantha wasn’t buying my answer, and I didn’t blame her. After another mouthful I answered truthfully. “Your parents are very warm and welcoming. It’s been nice getting to know them and making a friend in the neighborhood.”

  “I’ll be your friend,” Samantha offered, but the way her lips wrapped around the mouth of her bottle led me to believe we had different definitions of “friendship.”

  “Samantha.” I nearly laughed and stuttered my next words out. “I-I’m sure you have plenty of friends your age—”

  “Maybe I’m looking for older, more experienced friends.”

  What could I say to that? Thankfully, a commotion by the entrance to the yard stole everyone’s attention. Turned out Samantha’s parents had invited an old friend of Samantha’s without her knowledge. The reunion was sweet and long enough for me to make a quick exit. With a few thank-yous along the way, I was safely on my side of the lawn once again.

  That night, I took a stiff drink onto my small, covered front porch to sit and think. Not about Samantha, no—there was no reason to give much thought to the young woman who enjoyed torturing me. I wasn’t wondering where a continued conversation would’ve taken us. There was no reason to daydream about what it would feel like to twirl her silky hair around my fingers or the chill that would travel down my spine as she tugged at my hair while I buried my face between her legs. No, the tranquil evening was made for deeper thoughts than those.

  Muted giggles caught my attention from next door, and I looked over to see Samantha and her old friend rushing toward an SUV parked at the curb. They both climbed into the backseat, and my stomach dropped as very familiar motions came to life behind the windows. Whoever this old friend was, she was making quick work of Samantha’s tank top and bra.

  The night was dark and the streetlights obscured my view with their glare, but I could tell when Samantha was grinning. I knew when her head was thrown back, and my own breathing changed when I noticed her motions become erratic. I’m not usually one for voyeurism, especially when the star of the show is Samantha, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. My clit was swelling and the wetness that pooled between my legs was getting uncomfortable. I considered the darkness one last time before I unbuttoned my jeans and slipped my hand beneath the waistband of my underwear. It didn’t take long. I stroked myself into a frenzy and came before either woman exited the vehicle. I was quick to orgasm thanks to thoughts of Samantha and what it’d be like to be pressed into a backseat with her, pressed against and burrowed deep inside her, feeling her breath against my neck and pinning her down as I made her come over and over again. My imagination is a wonderful thing. At one point, I even imagined Samantha’s eyes locked on mine as I shivered through the last of my tremors.

&nbs
p; I waited for them to make their getaway before I made my way back inside for a shower and a sleepless night.

  *

  “Am I too forward, or do you not find me attractive?” I dropped my briefcase and jumped when Samantha and her damn raspy voice snuck up behind me. I’d just gotten home from a long day at work, and this was not something I was in the mood for.

  “Samantha.” I tried to contain my frustration, but the most I dialed it back to was a lengthy sigh. I left my keys hanging in the door as I turned to her. She stood there in a tank top and short skirt. Her outfit just made me angrier. It also scattered my brain a bit. “Wh-what are you talking about?” Playing dumb had seemed like a good idea, but I should’ve chosen my question more carefully.

  “I’ve been trying, very obviously, to show you that I’m interested in getting to know you.Intimately. I added that last part just to make sure I’m not being too vague.” She crossed her arms. That made her look even younger and more stubborn. I had to rub my temples thanks to the headache that had been lingering behind my eyes all day.

  “Don’t do that!” Samantha tugged at my wrist. “Every time I try to talk to you, you make it so difficult.” Just then, a woman with a small terrier trotted down the sidewalk. I turned back to my door and threw it open.

  “Come on.” I ushered Samantha in, and the moment I shut the door her lips were on mine. Sweet, soft, and determined. I gave in for a minute, letting myself get lost in the feel of Samantha’s mouth and the scent of her fragrant hair surrounding me. I kissed back, and I knew I should be embarrassed, but I’m only human. I tore myself away and backed up a step. Samantha looked so absolutely frustrated then that I had to smile.

  “You are stunning.” I started in a higher-pitched voice than usual. Arousal does that to me. After a dry cough I managed to get my voice back under control. “I would have to be crazy not to find you attractive, but you’re my neighbor, and your parents are very kind people that I’d prefer not show up on my doorstep with pitchforks wanting my head for what I’ve done to their daughter!” She started laughing at me, but I pressed on regardless. “This is my home now. It matters to me what my neighbors think.”

  “I’m not going to go home and tell my parents. I mean, unless there’s something to tell them.”

  “It’s not just about that! You’re a kid—”

  “I’m twenty-six.” That surprised me. Samantha must’ve noticed that, because she started to get cocky and advanced. I stepped back cautiously. My living room seemed a lot smaller then. “I took a few years off before I started college to help take care of my grandmother.” For just a second, her predatory façade slipped, and I caught a glimpse of a young woman I wouldn’t mind getting to know better.

  “It’s not a good idea,” I said weakly.

  “But you’re attracted to me, and I’m attracted to you.” It was still odd to hear her say she was attracted to me, even though it was made obvious by her ongoing advances. She stepped closer again. No more than a foot separated us, and my resolve weakened further.

  “You’re attracted to me?” I needed to echo Samantha’s words, just to hear them again.

  “I am.” She reached out and grabbed my hand. “I think this quiet, mysterious, boyish thing you have going on is so fucking sexy.” She didn’t release my hand before fingering the collar of my shirt with her free hand. “Tell me you don’t feel this, too.”

  I was feeling a lot of things at the moment, and horny was definitely at the top of the list. My eyes closed involuntarily as Samantha caressed my inner wrist. “I do, but…”

  “But nothing.” Samantha pulled me toward her.

  “What happens tomorrow?” I needed to ask, even though I didn’t care much for the answer. I had a feeling that Samantha felt the same, since she laughed.

  “Whatever we want.”

  “What about a few weeks from now when I’m sitting across from your mom while she insists on feeding me? When she brings you up in casual conversation and this is all I can think of? I’ll be twisted inside.”

  “Forget about it.”

  Did she just say to forget about it? “Forget about it?” I asked with a tilt of my head as if to understand her better, much like a dog.

  “Block the memory.” Samantha smiled slyly. Her plump, pink lips looked delicious. “Eat your meal, talk about plants and the weather, and forget you ever fucked me.” She chuckled, and the rasp in her voice added such smoke to it that my knees gave out just a bit. I swallowed thickly, and in an instant the lump of anxiety in my throat was gone, along with my resistance. I advanced and pinned her against the wall next to my TV, lifting my arms and positioning my elbows on each side of her head. I’d been unaware of our difference in height until then. My two-inch advantage was delightful in this moment.

  “You think it’ll be so easy to forget?” My words came out as a whisper against her lips. Samantha smelled so good and looked even better with her lips parted in a wanton invitation. She must’ve been surprised by the sudden shift in my demeanor because it took her longer to respond than usual, but she recovered quickly.

  “No, not for me. I’ll think about it often—especially when I make myself come at night.” She leaned up slightly. I felt wisps of her hair against my cheek before she whispered into my ear, “Like you did the night of the barbecue.” I tried to pull back, but Samantha held firmly to the front of my shirt.

  “You saw…?”

  “I did.” Samantha ran her palms up my neck and started to pull me forward. I was embarrassed, weak, and incredibly turned on. “And I knew then that I not only wanted you but I needed you. God, all I could think about was being on my knees—” I cut her off by pressing my lips to hers. We’d talked enough, now I needed to feel and taste and hear the noises she’d make as I gave her what she wanted.

  Our second kiss was heated. It ebbed and flowed from firm to soft. I explored the cavern of her mouth and reveled in the feel of her velvety tongue entwining with mine. Samantha’s lips were a marvel. If I wasn’t so goddamn wet and swollen, I could’ve spent the night sucking on her succulent lower lip just to hear the way it caused her breathing to change. Maybe another time, but it wasn’t the night for just kissing.

  My attention was torn away as I felt Samantha’s delicate hands mapping out my back, then my sides, and then slipping up the front of my shirt and tracing my abdomen. A comical whimper escaped me when Samantha’s short nails scraped against my skin.

  “You like that, huh, stud?” She really needed to stop talking. And I made her.

  I lifted Samantha slightly and brought her over to the couch. I gently tossed her down and made quick work of the flimsy excuse for underwear she had on beneath her pleated skirt. I bit roughly just above her knee before trailing my tongue up her thigh and diving into her waiting pussy. Samantha was soaked, and sweet, and oh so divine. Her squeal of surprise only added to my pleasure as I lapped at her juices. I traced her glistening outer lips with the tip of my tongue before parting them and delving deeper. I felt Samantha’s long fingers weave into my short hair and tug gently every time I neared her exposed clit, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. I wanted to savor the build-up and the way Samantha grew wetter against my mouth when I tongued her hood.

  Samantha’s pussy was beautiful: pink and ripe for the eating. I enjoyed every delightful second of tongue-fucking this woman I barely knew. I might not have known her favorite color, but I did know what it was like to feel her pulse quicken from the inside.

  “Andy…” Samantha’s whine was music to my ears. All it took was hearing my name from her sinful mouth to make me sink my fingers into her, curling just enough before withdrawing them and plunging in once more. She cried out and palmed her own full breasts. There was a light sheen of sweat covering her face, and I watched as every bit of pleasure played out in her expression. This Samantha was absent in the car the other night. This Samantha was someone I knew I’d never forget. “Stop staring and make me come!” Her demand was delivered with a smile,
and I jumped into action.

  I leaned forward, took her swollen clit between my lips, and sucked hard. She convulsed slightly and I continued to work her pussy with both my fingers and mouth, bobbing my head enough to alternate between friction and suction until Samantha’s hips began to move erratically. She came seconds later with a loud, shrill cry. I laid my head on her stomach as she started to come down.

  “Mmm…I knew you’d be good.”

  I couldn’t contain my laugh at that. “I bet you say that to all the old ladies you pick up.” I crawled up her body and placed a gentle kiss to her lips. Samantha looked radiant with her strawberry-blond hair stuck to her damp, reddened face. Magnificent, really.

  “Yeah, so old.” I squealed when Samantha grabbed my ass roughly and pulled me into her. “And for the record—I don’t do this often.” I saw something in her eyes, an honesty and maturity she seemed to hide so well.

  “Even if you did, it’s none of my business.” I spoke the truth, and I felt at peace with it. I’d take whatever Samantha was willing to give me.

  Samantha contemplated my words briefly. “It’s not, but I wanted you to know.” The weight of her words slipped away as she turned her attention to the button on my pants. Which was a relief because I was ready to combust. “May I?” Samantha asked while dipping her index finger under the waistband of my underwear. I felt it graze my trimmed hairline. A shock seized my clit and I pushed against her hand.

  “Please.” I was never above begging with any lover. “It won’t take long.”

  “The first time,” Samantha said with a smile that was so fucking sexy and confident. “But I plan on making you come all night long.” She ended her promise with a firm, long caress along my turgid clit, making an abrupt and fully expected orgasm rush over me. I rode out the pleasure against her hand, and just as the waves began to subside, I collapsed on top of Samantha. She started tracing lazy patterns across my back, over my shirt. The peace was broken by her giggles.