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Authors: Ray Garton

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BOOK: The New Neighbor
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Karen's breath caught in her throat like sawdust.
 

"Don't you think so, Karen?"

"Yes, it's ... they're very ... yes, I like them. They're very nice." She returned her attention to the tiny piece of silver. Its shape was confusing at first – graceful curves that locked together smoothly.

"Do you like that?" Lorelle asked when she saw her staring at the piece.

"Oh," Karen whispered when she finally realized what all those little curves were. "Yes, it's very ... unique."
 

Two naked female bodies dangled from the hoop, their legs wrapped around one another as they ground their vaginas together. Holding the piece closer to her eyes, Karen could make out the amazingly intricate detail: erect nipples, flowery vulva, fingers, toes and facial features.

"You said there's only one?" she asked.
 

"Mm-hm. I made that for myself when I got my nipple pierced."
 

"Your nipple?"
 

"It was a lot of work, that one. That much detail isn't easy on something so small."
 

"I can’t imagine having my
nipple
pierced." Karen frowned at Lorelle's reflection in the mirror.

"Well, I love jewelry and I'm always looking for new places on my body to put it." Lorelle stepped in front of her, took the piece of silver and unfastened her dress. It fell open in front like a bathrobe and beneath it, she was naked.
 

Karen's face burned and she clenched her teeth, angry at herself.
Why
? She thought.
I've been around naked women thousands of times, for God's sake, why am I
feeling
this way
?
 

Lorelle cupped her left breast, upturned the nipple – which was quite erect – and slipped the hoop through a minute hole in the hard brownish-pink flesh.

Karen touched her own left breast gently, almost protectively, feeling her nipples shrivel even further into solid pebbles beneath her shirt. "Didn't it hurt?" she whispered.
 

"Oh, not much. If it's done properly, it’s not as painful as you might think."

Karen's eyes widened as Lorelle's hand moved toward her, slipped beneath her shirt, lightly touched her breast, and –

– Lorelle said, "Not much more than a pinch," as she closed her thumb and forefinger together on Karen's nipple, squeezing hard for just an instant, and –
 

– Karen drew a loud gasp as the pinch sent thin white tendrils of heat through her breast, into her throat and down through her abdomen. Her eyes locked onto the two tiny silver women dangling from Lorelle's nipple, flashing as they caught the light from overhead.

"See?" Lorelle whispered. "It's not so bad."
 

Karen started to speak, to say she had to go now and probably wouldn't be back, thank you but
no
thank you, she had a husband and two kids and all that, but –
 

– Lorelle squeezed again, a little harder, and Karen's back stiffened as she murmured, "Oooh-ooh."

Another whisper as Lorelle knelt beside the chair, smiling: "You
like
that, don't you?"

"Pluh-please, I-I really...I ruh-really – “

The third time Lorelle squeezed, she did not let go; instead, she rolled the nipple between her thumb and finger

Karen grew weak for a moment, slumping in the chair, gripping the armrests, breathing, "
Mmmm
... “
 

Lorelle pushed her shirt open and touched her other breast, squeezed it gently and fingered the nipple.

Karen thought,
What am I doing here
? She kicked at the floor. The chair scooted back and Karen pulled her shirt together, fumbling uselessly with the buttons and stammering, "Look, I-I can't – I'm not – I really don't – I really just can't – “

"Yes you can," Lorelle whispered, standing and closing in on her again, so close this time that Karen couldn't rise from the chair. "It's all right, you can. There's nothing wrong. Look, it's just this – “
 

She took Karen's trembling hand and placed it on her breast, just below her pierced nipple and its sparkling silver lovers –
 

"See? That's all. Just this – “

– passed it slowly over her slightly rounded belly –

" – Just smooth skin, that's all, nice smooth skin ... and this –"

– then slipped Karen's fingers between her slightly parted legs, into the dark patch of hair, pressing them hard onto her mound –

" – just nice, soft lips. Feel them? Soft warm lips. Just you and me, that's all.
 

No one else,
nothing
else. No fat wrinkly penises, no stiff dripping hard-ons, no balls hanging in their little bags ... just this."

“Oh God," Karen breathed. She felt the growing heat and moisture between her own legs, closed her eyes as Lorelle knelt between her knees and unbuttoned her shirt the rest of the way, then kissed her breasts, licked them, sucked on her nipples so ...
perfectly
. Her teeth nibbled with just the right amount of pressure – not too hard, not too soft – then she took Karen's hand and pulled her out of the chair. Lorelle's dress fell to the floor on their way across the room. Karen shed her shirt, sat on the bed and let Lorelle remove her jeans.

The moment Lorelle's tongue touched her clitoris, Karen began to writhe on the bed, clutching the dark blue spread in her fists, breathing in rapid machine-gun bursts, and when her orgasm exploded inside her – more powerful than any other before it, almost smothering in its force – Karen screamed, and –

 

* * * *

 

– Jen's books hit the concrete sidewalk with a resonant slap. She froze in place as the other students just off the bus stepped around her and walked on down Deerfield.
 

Tara and Dana Crane stopped on each side of her and Tara asked, "Whatsa matter, Jen?"
 

"Did you hear that?" Her mouth was suddenly very dry and she no longer noticed the icy breeze. They'd stepped off the bus just a moment before she heard the scream and it had been very faint beneath the rumble of the bus's engine, but it had sounded, for all the world, like her mother.
 

"Hear what?" Dana asked, wrinkling his nose against the cold.
 

"I thought I heard my mom scream."
 

Dana cackled. "You watched that
Nightmare on Elm Street
movie on TV last night, didn't you?"

“No,
really
, I thought I heard my mom
scream
."
 

"Well I didn't hear it."
 

Tara shook her head. "Neither did I. Maybe it was a cat."
 

Jen listened hard, screwing her face up and turning an ear toward her house, but heard nothing.
 

"Better get home, Jen," Dana said. "Maybe
Freddy
got her!" He clawed one hand, stretched his eyes open wide and crossed them in that ugly way he knew frightened her.
 

"
Stop
it," Tara snapped, but Jen had already swept up her books and trotted away, turning and walking backward long enough to shout, "Sometimes you're a real
shit
, you know that, Dana?" and then hurried home.
 

Her mom's car was parked outside the garage and the door was unlocked, so Jen knew she was home. She walked in slowly, closed the door and called for her mom, but got no response.
 

The living room was empty; so was the kitchen. Her mom's car keys were on the counter where she always put them when she got home from work. As Monroe crept through the kitchen, looking suspiciously from right to left, Jen called out again, but heard only silence.
 

Troubled she went to her room and dropped her books on the bed.
 

Something moved. Somewhere.
 

She listened at her bedroom doorway.
 

It came from the next room. Robby's room.

He’s never home this early
, she thought.
 

Standing in the hall outside Robby's closed bedroom door, she muttered, "Mom?"
 

More faint sounds of movement.
 

"Mom?" she called, a little louder. Then, in a voice filled with the panic that had clogged her throat, she shouted, "
Muh-therrr
?"

An angry voice ... the squeak of bedsprings.

Jen pressed her back against the hallway wall and held her breath.
 

"What?" Robby barked as he opened the door.
 

She stared at him as she emptied her lungs, relieved, and snapped, "What're you doing home?"

"I was sick."
 

"You look sick."
 

He was pale and slump-shouldered and his ribs seemed to stick out a little more than usual.

"Where's Mom?" she asked.
 

"I don't know. She wasn't here when I got home."
 

"Well, I thought I heard her scream."
 

"What? You're high."

"I am
not
! I heard her! At least ... it sounded like her."
 

"Well, she's probably down at the Cranes'. Now shut up." He slammed the door and Jen heard his bedsprings squeak as he went back to bed.
 

Still not rid of her fear, she went to the telephone in the kitchen and called the Cranes, but her mom was not there. Neither was she at the LaBianco's house.

Jen flicked on the television in the living room and tried to preoccupy herself with it, but she couldn't. Maybe she
hadn't
heard her mom scream, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, something was
different
about today.
 

She sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the television and chewed her fingernails until the front door opened. She heard her mom's familiar sigh and dashed out to meet her.
 

Jen caught up with her in the kitchen and started to ask where she'd been, but only stared at her as she poured a glass of orange juice.
 

Mom did not look well. Her pretty blond hair was a sad mess and her face looked long and weary, almost as pale as Robby's.
 

"Mommy?" Jen asked, surprising herself, because she usually didn't call her that. She thought “Mommy” sounded childish.


What, honey?" She didn't look at Jen, just rinsed her glass in the sink and put the carton of orange juice back in the refrigerator.
 

"Where you been?"

"Huh? Oh, just ... I was visiting with Miss Dupree. Our new neighbor. She invited me over to look at her jewelry. She's an artist.”

Frowning, Jen said, "I ... I thought I ... well, when I got off the bus, I thought I heard you scream. Dana laughed at me, but I, uh ... I thought I heard you scream."

Mom’s head snapped around toward Jen and, just for a second, she looked as if she were about to become angry. Then she blinked, smiled falteringly, and said, "Oh, I'm fine, honey. Really. It was nothing. Maybe a cat."
 

"That's what Tara said."
 

"Well, that's probably what it was." She went to Jen and gave her a hug.
 

Jen felt her mom's hands tremble as they pressed to her back and her breath seemed to be coming faster than usual, rumbling in Jen's ear.
 

"I'm fine." Karen said. "Really."
 

"You ... look sick."
 

Her smile crumbled. "I do?"
 

"Uh-huh. Like Robby. He came home from school early."
 

"I knew he shouldn't have gone," she muttered distractedly, touching her face. "Probably the flu. It's going around. You'd better take some vitamin C, honey. Go watch TV, okay? I'm gonna ... take a hot bath."

Jen watched her mom walk slowly from the kitchen and disappear down the hall, shaking her head as if mumbling to herself. The bathroom door closed and locked and water began running in the bathtub. Back in the living room, Jen plopped in front of the television again, but she paid little attention to
 

Something’s different
, she thought, chewing another fingernail – chewing it all the way into the pink bloody quick.
Something's wrong
.
 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6
 

A Stranger

 

George was exhausted when he drove the car into the garage that evening. The radio station had recently undergone a change of ownership and, although he was immensely relieved to still have
his
job, he had the unpleasant task of firing some of the talent at the request of his new boss. He'd informed three disc jockeys of their termination that afternoon, as well as the sales manager, and it hadn't been easy. They were the best group he'd ever worked with, not a single rotten apple in the whole barrel, and he hated to see them split up. He felt worn and achy and wanted nothing more than to sit down in front of the television with a beer – maybe a screwdriver, or even a straight scotch – and get a little numb.

He knew something was different the moment he walked into the laundry room and couldn't hear a sound in the house. Even the washer and dryer were silent, and they were usually thumping with a load each evening. Dirty laundry was one of Karen's pet peeves and she washed something almost every day after work. And even if something wasn't in the wash, someone was usually knocking around in the kitchen or talking on the telephone or watching the television with the volume at full blast.
 

Tonight there was only silence.
 

He slipped his coat off as he walked through the kitchen and hung it on the coat rack in the hall. He could hear the television in the living room, the volume unusually low, and he stepped in to find Jen stretched out on the floor, sound asleep in front of a
Cosby
rerun. Kneeling beside her, he woke her gently and she smiled up at him.
 

BOOK: The New Neighbor
11.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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