Boys Next Door

by Sommer Marsden

  My eyes were open, glued to that man as he moved a bit faster, cupped his balls, arched his hips. His pouty mouth pressed into a tight anticipatory line. The bluish-black of five o’clock shadow was visible even from here, though he seemed small from my vantage point like an action figure instead of a big strapping man. I wanted to touch that stubble and hear it whisper secrets under my fingers.

  I pressed my hips to the edge of the window frame, feeling the pressure of cool wood against my pussy. The bold nudge of my clit meeting resistance.

  I wasn’t going to do this was I? I wasn’t going to take the spying, voyeuristic, Snoopy Snooperson to the next level, was I?

  In my mind’s eye flashed the images of Cooper and his eager tart. Cooper diving face-first into her pussy from behind. Cooper sliding his finger into her bum. Cooper fucking her and spanking her – and yeah, that’s where it got me – the phantom sharp reports of palm meeting plump flesh.

  I slid my hand beneath my robe and touched my clit with a single finger. A tentative press of flesh to flesh to see where I stood.

  A warm joy flooded me and I sighed. That was where I stood – horny and ready and seriously needing to get off.

  I didn’t press this time. Watching my beautiful, now forsaken, Stephen jack off, I swirled. Wet, slippery, sloppy circles around that tiny knob of flesh – my hands shook and my stomach tumbled and my breath had branded a circle of opaque mist on the glass.

  ‘My God, if anyone sees –’ I whispered. But truth was, that only made it better and on a wet flex of my internal muscles, I slid my fingers inside and ground my palm to my clitoris.

  I sighed like I was deflating and continued to watch pretty Stephen. Grinding my pelvis to my hand which made me wetter still.

  Getting off with my cheek pressed to foggy glass was an interesting way to preface a date, I thought.

  I laughed at that thought and when I saw, mesmerised, the arc and splash of semen when he came, a wet contraction shook me. Milked my fingers. Loosened my knees.

  I shivered, my laughter loud and bright as the orgasm shook me slowly. Then I dropped to the floor, legs splayed, running it all over in my head. The spanking, the fucking, the masturbation, and I came again.

  There. Now I was read for my date. I would not fuck the mailman. I would not visit any of the little pigs. I would just be.

  I had been so busy trying to settle in without settling in. I had slid into my new life on a rush of liaisons and excitement.

  Maybe I just needed to be a bit silent and alone and really find my niche.

  * * *

  ‘So word on the street is the new girl’s doing a sexy burlesque number for the fund raiser.’ Keith sipped his wine and grinned.

  I must have flinched. His handsome freckled face grew serious. ‘What did I say? No?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’m not very skilled in … burlesque.’ I laughed, covering my face. ‘And I was signed up by someone else. I didn’t sign up.’

  He blinked. ‘Oh, wow. Who signed you up?’

  We both sat back as our waitress delivered a basket of bread and a dish of olive oil and spices. ‘I’ll be right back to take your order,’ she said. Her eyes were glued to Keith. Someone had the hots for my date.

  ‘James Cooper. My neighbour.’ I took a hearty sip of wine to gird my loins for this conversation.

  ‘Wow. You live across the street from them.’ He shook his head and smiled as if in sympathy. ‘I forgot where you were.’

  ‘Them?’

  Now I was curious.

  ‘Coop, Deke and Vogel.’

  ‘Yeah. And? Come on, I just got here. Dirt, please.’

  I didn’t see it working for me and Keith, truth be told. He was too nice. And sort of bland. A nice, handsome, freckled boiled potato. But I wanted to like him, so I leaned in and smiled.

  ‘I shouldn’t …’

  ‘Spill.’ I was treating him more like a gossipy girlfriend as opposed to a date, but he didn’t seem to notice, or mind.

  Keith shrugged his massive shoulders and ripped a piece of crusty bread in half, thrusting it into the oil. So he had nice thick fingers and big forearms. It didn’t hurt to look.

  ‘They were tight in grade school. Then middle school. Even the start of high school. Truly they’re like a fucking John Hughes movie.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  I followed suit, tore some bread, dipped it. Ate.

  ‘Damn,’ I sighed.

  ‘I know, good, right?’

  ‘Good doesn’t cover it.’ I ate another piece and waved my fingers at him. ‘You were saying?’

  ‘Let’s see, Cooper is the surly rebel-rouser who comes from a family with a drunken mother, an abusive father and no one who believes in him.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, the bread turning to a rock in my throat.

  ‘Deke is the class clown, who hides all his pain with jokes and that big smile. He had a lot of people believe in him to the point where the boy turned himself inside out because he felt he couldn’t live up to it all. So when he became a butcher instead of a contractor all hell broke loose.’

  I nodded, not wanting to interrupt. In my mind I could see that smile of Deke’s. God, what a smile. I thought it was the sexiest thing about him. To think that often it was a defence mechanism was unsettling.

  ‘And Stephen … ah, Stephen.’ Keith shook his head.

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s the gorgeous tragic one isn’t he?’

  ‘How so?’ My heart was thundering for some reason. We were fucking – me and the boys – but we didn’t have shrink sessions after. I didn’t sit them down and say now tell me about your childhood …

  ‘His whole family basically flipped when they found out he was bi. Crushing really, he’s a good kid. Nice. Handsome. I’m not so hung up on anyone thinking I’m gay, that I won’t say it. Plenty of guys like me wish we looked like guys like him.’

  ‘Ah. So that’s why he moved back here,’ I said more to myself than to him. Then, ‘And guys like you look just fine, thanks so much.’

  Keith chuckled. ‘Yep, that’s why he moved back. And good for him. But when he was here in school – before his whole family moved away – his orientation came out between the three of them – Deke, Coop and Stephen. And it was a mess. Deke was fine but Stephen didn’t have the crush on him. It was Coop he had eyes for and Coop went ballistic.’

  ‘Did he protest too much?’ I asked sincerely.

  Keith shrugged. ‘Maybe. Hey, I’m no dummy, I know sometimes that kind of reaction is repressed feelings. Today, they’d probably call what the three of them had before it all blew up a bromance. Whatever the reason, him coming out broke the friendship up to a degree. It was a fracture. But I guess not enough for them to not live near each other. Deke rented them the homes anyway.’

  ‘Deke?’

  ‘Oh yeah. All the houses are Deke’s. They were given to him by his family.’

  ‘Hunh,’ I said. ‘Go figure.’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I said I wouldn’t fuck him. And I didn’t. But I wanted to.

  Keith walked me to my car and hesitated only an instant before closing in to kiss me. The parking lot of Mamma’s was long and narrow and I’d parked all the way at the back by a leaning and broken old fence. He kissed me hard – harder than I’d expected – and pinned me to my car with his bulk.

  He was hard. And for the record, his cock was big. I nearly cracked – lost my resolve but I managed not to. Even when he gripped my ass in his hands and squeezed. The kiss deepened and he whispered in my ear, ‘You never told me why you moved to T2.’

  I chuckled. ‘T2? Sounds like a movie about cyborgs.’

  ‘Most of us get tired of saying Terrace Towers all the time.’ He held me close against himself and just kept me there – flush to his warm, hard body. It was nice being held.

  ‘I think I was tired of worrying so much about what I wasn’t that I wasn’t thinking about who I was. Let alone actually being
who I was. Twenty-eight was my cutoff date and I guess it came just in time. By my birthday, I figured if I hadn’t managed to do what I wanted to do with my life, I was going to do something else. So there you go.’ Not really a full explanation. But close.

  He kissed me again, softly this time, a gentle peck that made the fine hair along my neck bristle. We pressed together but did nothing more. I could feel him and he could feel me, and his heart was rattling hard against my chest through his jacket. Keith watched me, intent on what I was saying. ‘There you go, what?’

  I smiled. ‘From wannabe actress, who was actually a bartender, to dog salon worker who caters to four-legged customers.’

  ‘And performs burlesque routines for charity?’ He touched my hair, softly brushing some out of my face. The wind promptly blew it back.

  ‘Oh shit,’ I sighed. ‘I keep forgetting about that.’

  ‘Are you going to do it?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘I guess I should let you go.’ His mouth found mine and his hands splayed big and hot along my ribcage. The tips almost brushed the underside of my breasts and that made my heart speed up. My ears thundered with it and my body shook even though the night was fairly mild.

  ‘I guess you should.’

  ‘But I don’t want to. For the record,’ Keith said. But then he pulled back and kissed my forehead. ‘I will, though. I am a saint.’

  That made me laugh out loud and I grinned. ‘You are a saint.’

  ‘I’d like to do this again,’ Keith said. He tugged a card from inside his jacket. ‘I didn’t give you my number earlier, so here’s my card. My address is on the back. I hope we can go out again.’

  ‘Damn,’ I said. ‘And I don’t have a card to give you.’

  He handed me his phone on the NEW CONTACT screen. ‘Digits would work.’

  I punched my home and cellphone numbers in and handed it back. ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘A normal date,’ I said.

  ‘What’s an abnormal date?’ Keith laughed.

  ‘You’d be surprised.’

  He watched me get in my car and lock the door before going to his. I tucked his card in my purse and headed home.

  * * *

  You know you don’t want to be mad at me, girly … a leather-jacketed, cocky as ever, Cooper says. With his ironic smile and his eyebrow cocked and his – someone? Someone shouting. Loudly.

  I can see Cooper, building up his walls. Layers and layers of attitude and snark. Hiding himself from all of us with his shoulder shrugs and harsh tongue and guarded gazes.

  ‘Don’t go all Mother Teresa on me here, Feral,’ he laughs and then he’s spinning me and tugging down my pyjama pants and dropping to his knees and he’s pushing that face between my legs this time. Eating me out. Pushing his finger into my ass and eventually fucking me. Long, hard angry strokes; fingers harsh on my skin and as I’m coming he whispers in my ear, ‘Don’t think you know me now, just because you have a little information. Don’t be so sure. You might get your precious Deke. Or poor, needy Stephen. We all watch out for him and his heart. Despite what some might think. But you can’t pinpoint me, Farrell.’

  He leaves me there. The woods – my woods – and he’s gone and I fall asleep. But can you sleep in a dream? Because even I know I’m dreaming. And I wake to Deke, smiling his devilish smile.

  ‘I came to say I was sorry. I don’t own you. Though I’d want to,’ he laughs. It’s a self-deprecating laugh that makes me want to kiss him.

  He sits cross-legged on the grass in his work boots with his butcher-nicked hands.

  ‘You just want to prove you’re worth it all.’ It’s me talking and I feel the effects of this slow motion, taffy pull, weird elastic time only found in dreams.

  ‘I’m worth it.’

  He says it with ease but there is a tiny flinch in his face that says he’s not so sure.

  ‘And don’t be so hard on the kid. He’s had it the worst.’

  And there is the part of Deke that attracts me … comforts me … lures me. His kindness. The big heart you can spot from mile away.

  I push him back, kiss him, kiss him – kiss him more. And want him – Jesus, how I want him. But he flips me to my back, though I feel he’s ready – hard – capable.

  ‘Don’t, Farrell. I can’t promise what I want. I know what I don’t want.’

  ‘What don’t you want?’

  I blurt it. Unable to stop my dream-drunk tongue.

  ‘I don’t want to know I can’t have you.’

  He rolls on his belly and falls through the grass.

  ‘Fucking dreams.’

  ‘He’s always been the slippery one.’

  It’s Stephen and I sigh. ‘You seem to be the one everyone’s protecting. Even the asshole.’

  ‘He’s not such an asshole.’

  ‘Now you’re defending him.’

  ‘He always defended me.’

  I look at him. Tall and lean and so fucking gorgeous. Looking at Stephen makes you want to protect him instinctively. Even if you currently are living in your subconscious.

  ‘He defended you. He wasn’t telling me when I was ready. He was telling me when he was ready.’

  ‘He’d never tell you that.’ Stephen smiles at me with full, pouty lips.

  ‘No. He wouldn’t. But that’s what he meant.’

  He shrugs. Drops to his knees. Pushes me back. Kisses me.

  ‘Sloppy seconds,’ I say, feeling wild panic war with mild guilt in my chest.

  ‘Hush. You changed everything.’

  His fingers are wet and sticky between my legs as he gets me off. Cool fingers, long and probing inside of me, thumb pressed to my clit. I arch up, content in knowing that it isn’t real, no need to feel strange, and when I come he kisses me again.

  ‘You changed everything,’ he echoes.

  His fingers still buried in me as the softer spasms of my orgasm wash out from the centre of me. My thighs clench around his big hand to keep him there until I’m done.

  He smiles. Grey eyes the colour of an angry ocean sky. ‘You know what you want though. Already.’

  ‘I don’t want anything,’ I say.

  Even as I say it, I know I’m a liar.

  Stephen cocks an eyebrow at me and when I pull him down to kiss me, he moves easily. His body warm and hard over mine.

  I let him in. I let him enter. I whisper, ‘Sloppy seconds.’

  He answers, ‘No such thing,’ and then, ‘You’re sleeping anyway.’

  I woke up coming. Hard severe contractions to rival any waking release. And it wasn’t lost on me in the periwinkle light of early morning that the only one I hadn’t fucked in that dream had been Deke.

  ‘Now what did that mean?’ I asked myself.

  But I was pretty terrified that I knew. Deep down at least. The trick would be to keep it stuffed way down there.

  I got up and made coffee. I watched Brutus gallop through the back yard, his black tail serving as a location flag as he chased down every grey squirrel within a five mile radius. He looked so happy, he looked so innocent.

  The barbeque stood stoically by itself, a reminder of the man who had lived here and the man who had loved him. Who had, in fact, built him a monument.

  ‘Now that’s a statement,’ I laughed using my cafetiere to prepare my second cup of coffee. ‘You love someone; you build them a fucking tower.’

  Brutus cried at the door – I let him in. I fed and watered him.

  ‘A fucking tower, Brutus,’ I said.

  He blinked at me, wagged his tail, and attacked his meal.

  The doorbell rang and I saw it was barely seven. ‘Jesus.’

  And there he stood. Low-slung work pants, work-issue pullover, baseball cap over wet hair. His green eyes were brilliant and annoyed. His smile all knowing and cocky. ‘Hey, I know you hate all of us but –’

  ‘I don’t hate all of you. I –’

  ‘Save it, Feral,’ Coop
said. ‘I just came to ask if you were dancing for the fair. I know, I know, I’m a cocksucking no-good motherfucker for signing you up. I should be drawn and quartered. Tarred and feathered in the town square.’

  He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and rocked back on his work boot heels. ‘But the folks we’re raising money for need help no matter how much of a no-good asshole I am. So I need to know so we can change the line up if you’re out.’

  He cut me off before I even spoke.

  ‘And yes, I know you have every right to back out. I have been told by neighbour one and neighbour two, the pretty one.’ He cocked his head toward Deke’s house and then to Stephen’s.

  ‘So what’ll it be, Feral Farrell? Teach me a lesson or do some good?’

  I blew out a big sigh and considered dumping my coffee on him. The only drawback would be the waste of a superb cup of coffee. ‘I’ll dance,’ I said. ‘But it’s for them. Not for you.’

  And then my stomach rolled over with nerves. I knew nothing at all about burlesque. I knew less than nothing.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  He nodded. ‘Good deal. Thanks.’

  ‘Thanks?’

  ‘Did I stutter?’

  I blinked at him. He was infuriating. ‘Why did you sign me up?’

  ‘That’s easy. You’re new. You’re a curiosity. The new girl that everyone wants to catch a peek at, speculate about. And darling, you are not hard to look at. I figured folks would pony up way more to see our newest resident taunt and tease than women they’ve seen before. Human nature, really.’

  I grabbed him and yanked him inside. He looked as startled as I did. It was comical, seeing his carefully built wall of I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude crumble for even a brief moment in time.

  ‘You’re a nice guy.’

  ‘What?’

  I sipped my coffee and grinned at him. ‘Deep down, you’re a nice guy. You were the one to look out for Stephen when he came out, weren’t you. Despite being the object of his affection – and the fact that made you somewhat uncomfortable.’

  He rolled his eyes, which was a dead giveaway. Coop was not an eye-roller. And eyebrow-cocker, sure. A shrugger, yes. A go-fuck-yourself-er – absolutely. But not an eye-roller. An eye roll meant that he was so startled by my announcement he didn’t know what to do with himself – so he did something obvious.