Coventry Park Pt. 02

I thought my neighbor would leave when she saw what was happening, but she continued to stand there, frozen, hand over her mouth, knees trembling. The cleft of her cunt showed prominently through her tight denim shorts, and her nipples were trying to poke holes through her canary tube top. "Oh God, I'm sorry," she said. She scampered back into the kitchen and I heard the screen door slam. I squeezed the last dribble of cum from my cock into the crack between Chloe's ass cheeks.

"Oh wow!" Carly said, staring up at me with frightened eyes. She was still lying on her back in a splayed-leg position. She hadn't moved a muscle.

I smeared my cockhead through the cummy crease of Chloe's bum, lingering for a second on her little brown hole. She looked over her shoulder at me and took in the creamy mess on her back and ass. Her body was a Braille-pattern of gooseflesh. "Who was that?" she said.

I massaged my cum into her ass with my hand. "My neighbor." I picked my pants up off the floor.

"Do you think she'll tell?" Carly said.

"I don't know."

"What are we going to do?" Chloe's voice was high-pitched, squeaky. "If my parents or Nathan find out—"

I held up my palms. "I'll talk to her. I'm sure she'll listen to reason."

"Reason!" Carly said, looking perturbed. "Reason will put you in jail."

"I'm not going to jail," I said. "You're both eighteen. We haven't done anything illegal."

"Illegal or not," Carly said, "Mom and Dad'll kill me if they hear so much as a whisper of this. They'll ground me for life, maybe even send me to boarding school."

My cheeks began to burn. "Don't be such a fucking drama queen, Carly. I told you, I'll take care of it."

Her bottom lip curled in a pout. "I'm not a drama queen."

"Okay, okay. You're not a drama queen."

She sat up and reached for her electric-blue bikini on the floor beside her. Chloe picked up her red one. They had come over on the ruse of going swimming.

As the girls put on their bikinis, I wondered how I could get out of this pickle. In spite of my brave words, I hadn't met my new neighbors yet, didn't know if they were libertines or prudes or somewhere in between. I hadn't even seen the husband.

Both girls looked pissed as I followed their wiggling backsides into the kitchen. They unhooked their swim robes off the backs of two kitchen chairs, and Carly grabbed the handle of the screen door. "See you later, Ted," she said. She made my name sound like the dirtiest, vilest word in the world.

She pushed out through the door and Chloe caught it before it closed. She turned her head and gave me a wilting gaze. "Yeah, Ted." That one sounded full of snake venom. She let the screen door slam behind her.

I closed the inside oak door and leaned my head against it. I thumped the wood with my brow. "Shit!"

Chapter 9

The next day, my friend Bobby J from Chicago came to visit. He was a fellow smut writer with whom I had shared many pleasant experiences while dabbling in our research. We were sitting in the living room, enjoying a cold drink, when the telephone rang on the end table beside the sofa. My hello was greeted by a very loud, very angry, "You bastard!"

Bobby heard it, too, and looked at me. I forced a smile. "Hello, Livvy."

"Don't 'Hello Livvy' me, you creep."

"Calm down, Livvy."

"I won't calm down. Not until I see you behind bars."

An icicle speared up my spine. "Why don't you come over and we'll talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Ted. You're a rapist. A...a fucking pervert."

"Now, Livvy—"

"My own daughter, Ted! What kind of man are you? Maybe I will come over—to spit in your face!" She slammed down the receiver.

I stared at the dead phone in my hand.

"Problem?" Bobby said.

I shook my head, making a dismissive expression. "Nah, just a little role-playing. Livvy likes to act the part of the disgruntled neighbor. She concocts some outrageous story, chews my ear off over the phone, and then comes over to get fucked." I faked a chuckle. "Never willingly, mind you. She likes rape scenarios." That part was true.

I paused, as if thinking, then said, "Hey, you want to join in?"

Bobby rubbed the two-day stubble on his chin. "Gee, I don't know. Think she'll let me?"

I laughed. "She doesn't let me. I have to take it from her. Come on, it'll be a hoot."

Bobby appeared unconvinced.

A pounding fist rattled the front door. I went into the foyer and opened it. "Livvy," I said, trying to sound friendly.

"You fucking asshole!" She stormed past me, knocking me aside. The hem of her French-green sundress swished alluringly just above her knees. She whirled and faced me in her black-rimmed eyeglasses, near tears. "How could you, Ted? How could you fuck Carly?"

I smiled for Bobby's benefit. "Fuck Carly? That's a good one, Liv." I straightened my face to convince Bobby of the staging I'd described. "Oh, yes...fuck Carly. Well, I couldn't help myself, Liv."

She came at me, fists flying. I raised my chin out of the way as she battered my chest. "You fucker!" she screamed.

I grabbed her wrists and forced them to her sides. "Now, Liv, that's no way to act in front of company." I nodded toward Bobby. Livvy's head jerked around.

Bobby had leaped to his feet and was standing in the living room, looking shocked.

Livvy flushed bright pink. "I..."

"Bobby, this is Livvy Bresman. Livvy, meet Bobby J."

Bobby tried to piece together a smile. "Pleased to meet you, Livvy."

Livvy was lost for words.

"Come in and have a seat," I said to her. I almost had to drag her by the wrist to the living-room couch. She sat beside me while Bobby took an armchair facing us. The silence was thick.

"Livvy's a librarian," I said to Bobby. "She works at the Coventry Park satellite branch, don't you, Liv?"

A curt nod.

"Bobby's a writer," I told her.

Livvy gulped, trying to form words. I had never seen her like this. She was usually placid, docile as a kitten after years of being browbeaten by her bible-thumping husband. In this condition I thought her threat of turning me in could be real. I knew I hadn't broken any laws, but the stigma attached to a police investigation would turn me into a neighborhood pariah. I needed something, a counter-attack, to deter her.

As I brainstormed alternatives, Livvy rediscovered her voice. "Wh-what do you write, Bobby?"

Bobby looked embarrassed, as if debating what to tell her. "Erotica mostly." Seeing the expression on her face, he shrugged and added, "It pays the bills."

"Nothing wrong with a good fuck story," I said.

Livvy tensed at the F word, suddenly remembering her mission. She glared at me as if she wanted to flail me again. I steeled myself for the onslaught.

"Do you live near here?" Bobby asked her. He was a good-looking guy, mid-thirties, about five-ten and a hundred and sixty pounds. His dark wavy hair hung medium-long and flopped just over the back collar of his pale-blue oxford shirt.

Livvy nodded. "Yes. Three houses down."

Bobby managed a weak grin. "Close."

"How about a drink?" I said, standing up. "White wine okay?" White wine was Livvy's favorite panty-remover.

"Sounds good," Bobby said.

Livvy nodded her head tersely.

I went into the kitchen and grabbed a cold bottle of Chenin Blanc from the fridge. As I filled the glasses, Livvy came in. In a low throaty growl she said, "You fucking bastard. You'll pay for this. Carly told me everything."

"Everything?" I said.

"Everything, you fucking kiddy-diddler." Tears welled in her eyes. "How could you, Ted? I thought..." She swallowed hard. "I thought we had something good together."

I set the wine bottle on the counter and took her in my arms. I nestled my face in her soft blonde hair, squeezing her plump ass cheeks. "We did, Liv," I said.

Her face turned up to mine and I kissed her, sliding my tongue into her mouth. Her tongue responded in slow, loving circles.

She pushed me away. "No! I can't do this."

"Come on, Liv." I tried to embrace her again but she wrenched back.

"You're going to pay for this, Ted. I'll see you in jail if it's the last thing I do."

I crushed her in a bear hug and wrestled her, kicking and yelling, into the living room. I fell back onto the couch and pulled her down, facing me. With my left arm clenched around her arms and waist, I hooked my ankles over her legs, reached my right hand under the back of her sundress, and ripped off her white lace panties. Bobby launched to his feet again, staring aghast. I slid my hand between our bodies and unzipped my fly. It wasn't easy, but by rolling and shimmying with her struggles, I managed to insert the head of my dick into her somewhat dry hole.

"No!" she yelled, fighting like a trapped animal. I clutched her to me hard. Her frantic wriggling caused my pole to delve deeper up her cunt. When I tried to kiss her, she bit my lip.

"Bobby, get over here!" I said, fuming.

He didn't move.

"Get over here and fuck her ass!" I jerked Livvy's dress up over her round booty.

"No!" she cried, twisting again.

Figuring it was part of the game, Bobby approached slowly. I humped my hips up off the couch, fucking Livvy as best as I could. Bobby extended his hands and stroked them over her smooth white ass cheeks. The invitation was too enticing. He undid his jeans and dropped them to the floor. Grasping Livvy's hip with his left hand, he guided his pecker with his right toward her sexy bunghole. She gasped as his cockhead pressed against her anus.

"No, you fuckers!" she screamed, bucking and thrashing anew.

Bobby looked at me.

"Go on!" I said. "She wants it!"

He grabbed both her buttocks and slammed his dick all the way up her dark nether hole.

"Oh God!" Livvy groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. Her fighting quieted and her cheeks flushed.

"Take her downtown," I said to Bobby.

He fucked his pole in and out of her ass while I held her with both arms and hunched my prick up into her cunt. Within a minute I felt her pussy start to lubricate; she had turned the corner. "You like getting fucked by two big dicks, don't you, bitch?" I snarled.

Livvy let out a long, low moan.

Bobby pounded her butt relentlessly, his clawing fingers tattooing red stripes onto her ass. The fierceness of his buffeting relieved me from having to make any fucking motions of my own. I felt Livvy's hips start to squirm; the slut was trying to run her cunt up and down my pole.

"Fuck her, Bobby!" I said. "Plow her ass till she can't sit for a week!"

A fresh squall of moans flew from Livvy's throat at Bobby's renewed attack. Her breaths turned into panting heaves, her body quivering under my arms. In seconds she was vibrating out of control.

"Oh God!" she cried, her pussy spasming around my dick.

"She's coming!" I said. "The fucking whore's coming!"

Bobby plunged his pole into her like a madman, giving her all eight inches with each stroke. I drove up into her hard, assisted by her creamy juices, so copious now that I could feel them lathering my lap.

"Fuck!" I yelled, and buried my cock in her to the hilt. Hot semen careened up from my balls and exploded deep inside her womb, slathering it with goo. Livvy gasped and started shuddering again, eyes closed, forehead sweaty. I had no doubt she could feel my heavy wad drenching her insides.

Bobby punched his prick all the way up her ass and collapsed onto her back. Gripping her shoulders, he rutted into her with short, choppy strokes. "Fuck!" he said. "I'm coming!" He grunted and groaned, plastering her rectum with sperm. "Fuck, her ass is tight."

Livvy looked like she had passed out. Her head lay still on my chest, and her body had quit moving. Bobby finished filling her ass with jizz, then brought his face down to hers. He flicked his tongue out at her lips. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Then her own tongue slithered from her mouth and curled around his.

Chapter 10

Livvy came back late that night after Carly and Tommy had gone to sleep. I let her and Bobby use my bed while I tried to concentrate on infomercials on TV. But I couldn't get past her screams of "Yes, fuck my ass!" and "Give it all to me!" It wasn't right, them copulating in my bed while I watched George Foreman hawking indoor grills.

I cracked a bottle of Chivas Regal and tried to lose myself in the booze. Never a good solution. I woke up around eight the next morning feeling like someone had stomped on my head. Three aspirins, a glass of ice water, and two cups of coffee later, and I started to feel semi-human, at least Neanderthal. I was tempted to go upstairs and peek in the bedroom to see if Livvy had overslept, but I was too angry, maybe even a little jealous. Instead I went outside in shorts and bare chest to water my front flowerbeds. The marigolds were a rich Monet canvas of oranges and yellows. The blue and green snapdragons and rolling mounds of magenta impatiens created a rainbow that brightened my day.

As I adjusted the spray-head on the hose, my next-door neighbor to the south—the woman who had caught me fucking Chloe Holmes—came out onto her front concrete stoop. She didn't notice me at first as she doused her oversized potted pants with a big green plastic watering can. When her eyes finally met mine I gave her a weak smile, not knowing what to expect. To my surprise—and great relief—she returned my smile, hers more radiant and real than mine, I was sure.

"Good morning," she said, her voice full of soprano good cheer.

"Morning," I muttered.

"Another beautiful day."

I peered up at the cloudless blue sky. "It is."

"About the other afternoon," she said, "I'm sorry, I should have—"

I held up my hand. "No, it was my fault. I've been meaning to come over and speak to you about it."

"How about now?"

I swallowed. "Now?"

She shrugged, causing her cantaloupe breasts to lift and squeeze together in her pink tube top. "It's as good a time as any."

"Okay," I said.

I walked over and she offered me her hand. "Monica Beldham."

I shook it. It was soft as rose petals. "Ted Graham."

She led me through the foyer and into the living room. The walls were painted light sunshine-yellow, and the room was filled with white Rattan furniture, including a padded cane sofa. She pointed me to it and said, "Have a seat. Coffee?'

"I'd love some," I said.

She went into the kitchen and called out, "What do you take in it?"

"Black is fine."

She returned carrying two steaming mugs and set them on coasters on the glass-topped coffee table in front of me. She sat two feet away on the white cane sofa and pressed the rim of her mug to her pretty lips. I decided I liked the way she dressed. With her pink tube top she was wearing loose beige Bermuda shorts that showed a fair amount of tanned thighs. Her legs were long and slender, but her upper thighs had a nice womanly swell to them.

I brought my mug to my mouth and looked into her bright blue eyes. My cock thickened under my shorts. I took a sip of hot coffee, then sucked in a deep breath. "About the other day," I said.

"You don't have to explain," she said. "You're a man." Her eyes flicked down to my rising bulge. She smiled. "Obviously."

I gulped. "I didn't want you to think I preyed on young girls."

She smirked. "Oh?"

"They're both of legal age."

"Yes, I know."

I gawked at her. "You do."

She nodded. "I've known Livvy for years. I met Carly before, once or twice. She was much younger then. She's seventeen, isn't she?"

My cheeks warmed. "Actually, she just turned eighteen." I was surprised Carly hadn't recognized her.

"Well, that's certainly of legal age in Illinois. Even seventeen is, provided you're not in a position of trust or authority. You're not, are you?"

"No," I said. "I just know her from the neighborhood."

"And the other girl, the one you were...?" She let the sentence dangle.

"Chloe's eighteen, too. Another neighborhood girl."

She smiled. "Well, I guess everything's copasetic, then."

I nodded, wondering how she knew so much about the legal age to fuck in Illinois. "Do you work?" I asked her. I hadn't seen her around much other than on move-in day.

"Yes," she said. "I'm a lawyer. A partner at Elliott, Loggins & Cornfeld in Gantry."

I almost spewed out my mouthful of coffee. "Forgive me. It's just...well, you look so young."

She grinned at me coyly. "Thank you. But I'm not that young."

She couldn't be over twenty-seven, I thought.

"I'm thirty-three," she said.

That surprised me. "I haven't seen your husband around," I said.

"He's out of town quite a bit. That's how I met Livvy. Aaron works with Chuck."

Hallelujah! the celestial choir sang in my head. Two absentee husbands. I wondered if Livvy had told her about me. "Do you see Livvy much?"

"Not since I moved in. We seemed to see more of each other when I lived in Gantry. We've gotten together a few times, for coffee with some of the other neighborhood women."

That sounded bad. "Oh? Like who?"

"Connie Macmillan. Crystal Taylor. A few others."

Fuck! "Are you and Livvy good friends?" I couldn't read her expression. That coy grin never left her face.

"Good enough. You know us women; we're all sisters in the flesh."

What the hell did that mean?

"Aaron and I are throwing a party Saturday night," she said. "Kind of a belated housewarming. I'd love for you to come."

My prick jerked in my shorts. "I'll have to check my schedule."

She smirked. "Are you that busy?"

Heat returned to my cheeks. "Not really. I can probably make it."

"You're a writer, aren't you?"

So Livvy had mentioned me. "Yes."

"I love writers. They're so...interesting." She inched closer on the blue sofa pad. "Have you written anything I'd know?"

I told her about my two novels. More about the first.

"What are you working on now?" she asked, her thigh now nearly touching mine.

"Not much. Short erotica mostly."

Her face lit up. "Erotica? Really?"

I nodded.

"I love erotica. All that fucking and sucking."

I stared into her eyes. Lust lived there. She seized my bulge and crushed her lips to mine. Her tongue came out, twisting and exploring. Mine met it in a dueling frenzy. I pulled her to me, mashing her breasts against my chest. She squeezed my cock through my shorts and tried to undo my zipper. She slid it down and dipped her head to my lap. I groaned as her warm mouth engulfed half my pole. I snaked my hand down the back of her loose shorts and cupped a pantyless ass cheek.

She slid down onto the carpeted floor between my legs, her mouth never leaving my tool. She peeled her tube top down off her breasts, exposing pink nipples and areolas seeded with tiny pinprick bumps. She pulled my cock from her mouth and laid it in her cleavage. "Your prick is beautiful," she breathed, looking up into my eyes. She squeezed her tits around it and slipped the head into her mouth.

I groaned and laid my head back against the hard Rattan cane. "God, Monica, your mouth is so fucking hot."

I hunched my dick up into her face, basking in the exquisite pressure of her tits around it. I grabbed her head and guided it up and down my pole as a tingling sensation started in my balls. I punched my hips up harder and said, "Oh, you beautiful fucking slut!" Monica moaned around my cock, making it vibrate in her mouth. "God, Monica, I'm close."

She released my rod, stood up, and dropped her shorts. Her pussy was a slick razor-gash of pink. She climbed on top of me, pressing her tits into my face. She raised her ass, grabbed my pole, and fed the head into a very tight, very wet cooze. She sank down slowly, eyes closed, head tossed back. Those beautiful pointed breasts stared me in the face. I grabbed her ass cheeks and lunged my hips up. "Fuck!" I croaked. "You're so fucking tight."