To Love Thy Neighbour

by S M Mala

  ‘At your age?’ said Alfie before receiving a gentle thump from his mother.

  ‘That’s rich, considering you like munching on geriatric men’s penises,’ the older woman bit back.

  ‘Don’t say that,’ Esme hissed, trying to get the image out of her head and seeing Alfie was starting to laugh.

  ‘How old is this one?’ Alfie rolled his eyes. ‘In her fifties or sixties.’

  ‘Forties.’

  ‘That’s a little young, don’t you think,’ said Alfie before realising what he had said. ‘For a woman it is, isn’t it?’

  ‘She’s forty-one and gorgeous! I’m only sixty-eight, so it’s no big deal,’ sniffed Steph. ‘Anyway, I’ve been told I look good for my age.’

  ‘Is it the Jewish girl you were talking about?’

  ‘Woman. And she’s so lovely, I can’t tell you.’

  ‘How did you meet her?’ asked Esme, watching her son look in shock at his grandmother.

  ‘When she was cleaning my teeth.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘She’s a dentist.’

  ‘Did you take them out for her to look at?’ Alfie cheekily asked before laughing. ‘She’s like twenty-seven years younger than you. Have you done the deed?’

  ‘Alfie! Don’t go asking things like that.’ Then Esme turned to look at Steph. ‘Have you?’

  ‘She’s amazing!’

  ‘Even you can get laid but not me,’ mumbled Esme.

  ‘Mum’s a nun.’

  ‘Not quite,’ giggled Steph. ‘She puckered up and gave that new neighbour a smacker, then he told her she was too old!’

  ‘Steph!’ Esme said, literally jumping out of her chair. ‘Don’t tell him that!’

  ‘You snogged Leon?’ Alfie said, with a startled expression. ‘So as soon as you thought he was straight, you were in there. That’s really funny!’ He started to laugh then stopped. ‘He said you were too old?’

  ‘Yes he did,’ she smiled, shrugging again. ‘And here was I, willing to give it a go with someone fifteen years younger, only to be told he’d prefer a younger woman so he can have a future and breed more babies.’

  ‘And to go and top it all,’ laughed out Steph. ‘He bangs his new piece the same evening he told your mother. He was trying to give her a hint, don’t you think?’

  Esme laughed at Steph then noticed an annoyed look from her son.

  She had rarely seen it.

  ‘I don’t think he had any right to say that to you,’ he said, glaring at her. ‘That’s very rude. And you should have said so.’

  ‘I was a bit upset, to be honest. When someone tells you something like that, there’s nothing much you can say, is there?’

  ‘You could have told him to fuck off and that older women do it better!’ Steph said, putting her head up into the air. ‘I get a lot of admiring looks from younger people, believe me!’

  ‘Can we order?’ Esme asked, not wanting to talk about Leon again. ‘I’m hungry.’

  They enjoyed their lunch and were onto their third bottle of wine. Esme felt happier and was cuddling her son’s arm while he ate sticky toffee pudding.

  ‘I’ve got to tell you both something,’ Esme said, feeling a little pissed. ‘And I don’t want to change the mood but you’ve got to know.’

  ‘What?’ Alfie asked, handing over a spoon of the dessert with cream to his grandmother, only to pull it away and put it in his mouth.

  ‘Oscar is coming over soon and wants to see you both. I thought I’d give you some warning.’

  She daren’t look at their faces, knowing it wasn’t going to be a pretty sight.

  ‘I can’t tell you what to do, but will you think about it?’ Esme looked up and saw her son eating his pudding as Steph looked straight at her. ‘Please don’t shoot the messenger.’

  ‘Why?’ asked the woman, emptying the remaining wine into the glasses. ‘I think I need another bottle.’

  ‘Mum, I don’t want to see him,’ Alfie said quietly, looking at her with desperation. ‘It upsets me because I know he doesn’t approve of who I am.’

  ‘Which is rich, considering what he does for a living,’ sniffed Steph, then letting out a massive sigh. ‘Why now?’

  ‘Probably starting a campaign for president?’ Alfie sarcastically replied then turned to face Esme. ‘All the times I wanted him to come visit, or for me to go over, that man was too busy. He made empty promises and then when he had his own family; he forgot about me.’

  ‘Alfie, he loves you and-.’

  ‘He hates the fact I’m gay. I know it, and you know it. For a democrat, he’s a bloody hypocrite. Who knows if he hates the colour of my skin too?’ Her son looked tearful, and she knew it was down to his break up.

  ‘Your father is many things, but a racist he is not. Hawaiian Chinese blood flows through his veins. That is something he has always been proud of,’ Steph said firmly. ‘A homophobic arsehole? Yes.’

  ‘Oscar Reeves can’t make amends for the past fifteen years. What can he say? What does he want me to do? Forgive him because it suits his schedule? What about me? What about how I feel?’ gulped Alfie.

  Esme couldn’t argue with that. Steph looked at her, shaking her head from side to side, knowing the child was right about his father.

  ‘And that goes for me as well,’ Steph said, looking increasingly upset. ‘Why now?’

  ‘Why do you waste your time with him, mum?’ Alfie asked. ‘He hurt you and didn’t want to know. Why do you tolerate him?’

  ‘You know Oscar loves you both so much but he ballsed it up, and I’ve not helped. I want to sort this out. And he’s never said I was old once, after all these years, so that’s good.’

  ‘You can’t have said that!’

  Graham exclaimed when they were working in the garden, and Leon told him what happened the previous Friday. ‘Then you go and have sex with Melanie when she’s next door?’

  ‘And I’ve not seen Esme all week but Mali has.’ Leon looked at the house and knew she was avoiding him. ‘I’m too scared to speak to her.’

  ‘Well, you’ve blown that,’ he said, sitting down and rolling a cigarette. ‘But like you said, she’s too old.’ Graham smiled. ‘And Melanie?’

  ‘She was nearly as good as a wank but not quite,’ he whispered seeing Graham’s eyes widen. ‘From what I remember, she facilitated all my needs, and I did the business, even though drunk, but it lacked something.’

  ‘Okay?’

  ‘And I went to her home yesterday, thinking that I might remember if it was good and it still lacked something.’ Leon frowned and shook his head. ‘It lacked a lot of things, to be honest.’

  ‘Do you think she could ever be as good as a wank or even better? That’s what you have to figure out.’

  ‘I wished we never started the ‘wank’ scale as an idea for good sex.’ Leon sat down next to Graham. ‘I’m not sure about Melanie. She’s okay, but I don’t know.’ Then he looked at the house and back at his friend. ‘I wished it was Esme.’

  ‘Fat chance she would ever let you come near her now!’ he laughed out. ‘You’ve told her she’s over the hill and can’t produce your heirs. I think she needs a man who can treat her right. You treated her wrong.’

  ‘I’m so embarrassed,’ he said, putting his face in his hands. ‘What does she think of me now?’

  ‘Why do you care? Shrug it off because I’m sure you’ll be banging the walls down again this Friday, won’t you?’

  ‘For God’s sake!’

  Esme could hear the pounding against the wall the following Friday evening.

  And this time it sounded as if he was using a battering ram on the woman. Then she heard the loud moans and was at a loss on what to do.

  ‘She must have a fanny made out of iron,’ she mumbled, realising that her despair over the rejection had now turned to annoyance.

  It was the third Friday she had to listen to it. She noticed that he would have sex on Tuesdays and Fridays, when Mali wasn’t in.

&
nbsp; Esme wondered if he realised how devastating it was for her to listen to.

  But he didn’t care.

  That was obvious based on him trying to convert their bedrooms into one by using his woman’s skull as the ramming instrument.

  Getting up, she walked into the bedroom that over looked the back garden.

  It had been Alfie’s room.

  There was no sound of Leon screwing the daylights out of his young lover, and she looked at the stars through the window.

  It seemed a nicer place to be.

  Also, she didn’t have to look over at Ralph’s house or hear Leon on the prowl.

  Three weeks she had avoided him, but Mali came to see her for a chat and a lollipop most days. At five, she would send the little girl back home, just to prevent Leon coming over.

  She didn’t want to see him.

  But he was a neighbour, and she would have to put up with all the women and sex while her fanny shrivelled up and died through lack of use. Esme decided she was going to decorate the back room and move in, just to get some sleep at night.

  Her phone rang, and it was Oscar.

  ‘Hello there,’ she said and let out a little sigh. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m in London and arrived at the hotel five minutes ago.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Get a cab and come and see me,’ he whispered. ‘And I’ll tell you everything.’

  ‘Oh God Oscar, don’t do this to me,’ she groaned, rubbing her head.

  ‘Bring an overnight bag. Esme, I really need you right now.’

  And every time he did, she came running.

  ‘Who’s that?’

  Melanie asked, walking to the window.

  Leon made a conscious decision not to be pissed when he slept with her that night.

  Three weeks he had not set eyes on Esme, and it was starting to bug him. He knew she had been working at the big house, at the coffee van and on other errands.

  If there were new jobs, it was Tracy who contacted him, not Esme.

  And he didn’t want to ask where she was.

  He realised his conclusions were off mark when it came to Esme’s pros and cons.

  The biggest pro being that Mali liked her, he liked her, and he was missing seeing her around.

  And the large con was that he had ballsed it up and didn’t know how to turn it around. There was the small hope they would bump into each other. Graham pointed out it might just wind her up even more, having to talk to a man who told her she was decrepit, so to speak.

  ‘Is that your neighbour?’ he heard Melanie gasp, peering out from the blind. ‘She’s very pretty, isn’t she?’

  Leon darted quickly towards the window and noticed Esme looked stunning in a dark dress. She was getting into a cab and had a bag in her hand.

  His heart thumped, wondering if she was going away.

  Then he thought it might be with Ralph.

  Looking up for a moment, she saw him at the window, and he realised Melanie was standing next to him.

  Esme smiled before getting into the cab.

  It drove away, but then Ralph’s car went into his drive. Leon noticed Ralph had seen Esme, as he stood looking at the moving vehicle.

  ‘Are you okay?’ asked Melanie, stroking his bare shoulders. ‘You look a little startled.’

  ‘I was hoping to speak to Esme about looking after Mali on Wednesdays,’ he replied, not knowing what else to say. ‘I’ve promised to work on someone’s garden that day for a couple of weeks. That’s the only time I can get access, and they won’t give me a key.’

  ‘I don’t mind looking after Mali. That’s when I have a half day off. It’d be nice to get to know the child.’

  Knowing deep down it was a bad idea as Mali didn’t like Melanie, he wondered if that would make Esme a bit envious of his kid’s attention going to someone else.

  She might even consider speaking to him then he could explain his thoughts about her; about them.

  If there was a ‘them’. Leon had big hopes that he could make amends.

  If Esme was willing.

  Though, right now, he wasn’t sure she would ever be.

  ‘Just stop.’

  Within seconds of getting to the hotel, going through security and having all her bodily parts searched, Oscar was trying to take off her dress as soon as she walked into the room. ‘I’ve just been given a thorough going over. Can you give me a break?’

  He stepped back; his shirt unbuttoned and he was wearing trousers to an expensive suit. Then he smiled, pushing his hand through his dark hair with silver strands you would hardly notice unless you knew when his hair was intense dark brown. Like she had done, for twenty-six years.

  Alfie was the same height as his father, about six foot and an identical physique.

  He was his father’s son in so many ways. Then the smile appeared, and this is why she always found Oscar Reeves a hard man to deal with.

  Without saying anything, his handsome face could change your thought pattern in an instant.

  ‘You look good,’ he said, moving closer and kissing her neck. ‘Happy belated birthday.’

  ‘Oscar,’ she said, feeling his lips against her skin.

  ‘How are you coping with middle age, Esme?’

  ‘Right now, not very well.’

  His mouth moved up her jaw until they reached her lips, and he kissed her very gently.

  She breathed slowly, knowing how he liked to kiss and nothing had changed. He took his time, always teasing and making you want more. When he eventually met her tongue, it was light until she was surprised he lunged in, making her nearly fall backwards.

  But something was different.

  It felt like a safe haven, not an illicit clinch.

  Maybe she had got used to him, and he was more of a comfort than a thrill.

  Esme wasn’t quite sure.

  His hands travelled all over her body, and she heard her zip being undone, letting the dress fall to the ground.

  He pushed her back until she fell to the floor, pulling down her bra straps quickly and nuzzling in her breasts. His hand went up her dress, massaging her pubic bone through her knickers. She knew he liked to feel her getting wet.

  Esme undid his trousers and pulled out his dick, rubbing it gently and hearing him groan. Then she removed his shirt, taking it off and started to kiss his chest. His hand held on firmly between her legs, then she felt his finger push inside her.

  ‘Do you want it?’ he asked, smothering her mouth with his. ‘How badly do you need me to screw you?’

  ‘Really badly,’ she replied, knowing what to say then added. ‘And only from you.’

  She opened her eyes to see he was looking at her, before kissing her frantically down the neck. One hand squeezing her breast, the other pushing her knickers to the side so he could rub her off.

  Oscar knew what to do and where to touch, including how. And Esme knew all about his body. The games and teasing, the gentle lovemaking to the hard sex.

  He liked it all.

  ‘I need you naked,’ he gasped and she removed her clothing as so did he.

  His head moved down, taking off her underwear then his lips buried himself between her thighs.

  She felt his tongue move in her hole and lips massage her nub.

  Esme was naked, looking down as he gave her complete oral pleasure, his finger slowly going in and out.

  ‘Oscar, make it good when you make love to me.’

  Then she realised her orgasm was going to come fast as her hole squeezed, and her skin throbbed in pleasure.

  She pushed his face into her fanny, nearly choking him. But she didn’t care.

  All she wanted was to feel an orgasm from another human being that didn’t relate to her own hand or a vibrator.

  And she did.

  From her ex-husband.

  Her heart was beating fast when he turned her over and took her from behind, making sure he put on his condom. She felt Oscar pushing hard and
holding onto her shoulders, before screwing her quickly.

  Then she wondered if that was how Leon made love to his hairdresser.

  Not wanting to think about Leon while having sex, she closed her eyes and decided her knees weren’t like they used to be, so pulled away, getting up slowly before walking to his bedroom.

  Oscar came from behind her and flung her on the bed, opening her legs and getting into position. He was thrusting hard, but now being a little bit gentle as he stroked her breast.

  It wasn’t too long before he came, a broad grin coming to his face.

  ‘You know why I like having sex with you?’ she said, starting to laugh. ‘It never takes more than ten minutes and that leaves us the rest of the night to talk.’

  ‘You’re all heart.’

  They were lying on his bed, drinking wine and chatting. Esme had told him all about Alfie and him dumping Vincent, and Steph going out with someone much younger than her. Oscar always asked about them, so it seemed natural to tell him as much as possible.

  ‘Why are you here? I didn’t think you were coming for ages.’ Esme stroked his bare chest that had always been free of hair. ‘I only told them about you wanting to meet up a few weeks ago.’

  ‘What did Alfie say?’ Even when Oscar asked, she knew he was aware what the answer would be. ‘He still doesn’t want to see me?’

  ‘You know all the times he wanted to see you, do you remember? Again and again you said you were too busy; he couldn’t fly over, or you weren’t coming to London. Eventually, he stopped asking and speaking to you. Surely you can’t expect him to change his mind.’ She watched Oscar rub his forehead. ‘We’ve done a great job of keeping him out of your publicity.’

  ‘That’s because you live here.’

  ‘And you’ve done a good job too. Never mentioning him.’

  ‘I wanted to protect Alfie.’

  ‘You didn’t want anyone to know your son was gay, especially when it wasn’t acceptable to do so in the bigger picture, called the United States of America.’