The Neighbors will Talk

Gloria pulled her hands under her chest and came. She sobbed and moaned, arching her back. He stroked her hips and ribs.

After her orgasm passed, she ended up in a little ball, tucked into a corner of the car. She wanted to unwind her body, but he kept her crowded into the corner. She twisted her neck to meet his eyes.

"Shhhh," he whispered.

He moved his hips. His cock slid out, then drove forward again.

Gloria grunted.

She had full command of her senses now. He thrust his hips and she felt his monster sliding into her ass until his groin kissed her bottom. She heard his heavy breathing, his murmured encouragement. Her asshole had already accommodated to his size, and it was greased with sweat and spit, but her sexual drive was gone. His cock didn't hurt her physically as much as it did psychologically. He was using her ass. It was no longer a mutual event, if it ever was. He could have been jacking off into a toilet, instead he was drilling her asshole.

She reached between her legs and held his balls.

He came, pressing himself against her ass. She felt the jets of his cum as he emptied into her rectum. He pulled out and she collapsed onto the seat, his semen leaking from her bottom. She couldn't tell if she laid on the seat for a long time or a short time.

A vehicle engine started, then drove off.

It sounded like a delivery truck.

Silence.

He'd taken a little detour on his route. Made a special delivery.

She pulled her panties up.

The effort of getting her underwear over her hips was too much for her. She laid on her back, marshalling her strength. Gazing around the backseat of Julio's car, she tried to assemble her memories of the night. It was all so confused. Every memory bled into another.

A crow cawed in the trees.

Mustering her will, she sat up. Her top was around her waist, her pants around one ankle. Her head throbbed but she forced herself to take action. She pushed her leg into the pants, then pulled them over her hips. She twisted her top until the front was over her tummy. She put her arms through the arm holes. It was ripped. Her shoe was in the front seat. Her packages were scattered on the floor of the car.

She got out of the vehicle.

The insides of her thighs throbbed and she wasn't sure why. Her bottom was wet and she reached behind her. Her mind was cloudy but a single thought popped into her mind. Her thighs hurt because a lot of guys had fucked her last night.

She clenched her teeth.

She gathered her purchases from the floor of the car. She thought about the good-looking clerks at the Gap, imagining their nice girlfriends. Her sore pussy throbbed. Making her mind go blank, she took an unsteady step away from the car.

The sun was up.

Birds were making noise.

A police cruiser trolled slowly past. The officer behind the wheel kept his eyes on her as he leaned his head to the microphone on his shoulder. She turned her head and closed the backdoor of Julio's car.

Her mouth tasted like cum.

6

Gloria walked home from the parking lot outside Julio's apartment. The early morning sun beat on her shoulders and she sweated. Her body stank of urine. She stopped at a 24-hour chain pharmacy. The air conditioned aisles were a comfort. The remainder of her babysitting money went to a bottle of water and emergency contraception. An older Asian woman looked at her unsympathetically from behind the counter.

Gloria couldn't meet the woman's eyes.

Outside she stood in the cool shade of a tree and took her contraception.

A memory of someone pissing on her face popped into her mind. She pushed the thought away. It was replaced with the memory of a man fucking her in the car. The most vivid part was the sinking feeling in her gut as his body went stiff, he called out something vulgar, and she realized he was filling her pussy with his cum. She clenched her teeth.

She was a cheating bitch and she deserved it.

The remainder of her walk home was uphill. Gloria prayed her aunt was still at church. It was almost noon by the time she arrived home.

The house was empty.

Gloria dumped all her Gap purchases on the floor in her room. She ran bathwater and stripped out of her clothes. The warm water swallowed her sore muscles. Her body was sore in its joints and her head felt heavy. She touched her neck and her glands were tender. She was sick. She got out of the water sooner than she wanted. She didn't want to risk running into her aunt and answering questions.

She toweled dry and collapsed nude into the bed.

She had a fitful sleep.

She woke shivering and slipped on sweat pants and a t-shirt and crawled back into bed. She fell into a wakeful sleep. Her aunt came to her, sat on the bed, and stroked her head. Gloria couldn't rouse herself. When she finally woke up, the light outside the window was dark. A bowl of tomato soup and some crackers sat on her nightstand.

The soup smelled too strong. Her head felt heavy, her mouth dry. She set the bowl of soup in the hall and then collapsed back into bed.

She slept again.

When she woke, the house was silent. Her cunt ached. It was the sore, raw ache from being chafed. She felt obliged to stroke herself, but her fingers didn't quicken her pulse. Her cunt didn't fill with blood.

It was over. Her pussy had had enough.

Gloria looked at her phone. She logged onto her Black Lover account, but instead of the familiar screen she got a message saying her account had been deleted.

The screen denying her access read "Pornography."

Pornography.

Her heart raced in her chest.

She tried to log on again, and this time she got a generic error saying no such account existed. She started to sweat. Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't want to cry. She got out of bed and searched her aunt's home office, the kitchen junk drawer.

She found a utility razor and crawled back into bed.

She made the first cut on the inside of her upper arm, where it would be easiest to hide. Dragging the blade across her skin, it didn't feel like anything. She waited. It bloomed with blood, a sharp line leaking down her pale skin. She ran for a towel and dabbed the wound. When it transformed into a single fresh line of blood, she traced out another one right next to it. She had made half a dozen when Aunt Louise tapped on the door.

"Gloria," Aunt Louise said.

Gloria pulled the sheet over her, the razor in her hand. "I'm sick," she said.

Aunt Louise came in the door.

"Go away," Gloria said. Turning to the wall, she huddled under the sheets.

Aunt Louise stood quietly.

"I'm sick," Gloria said. She held her knife and let her mind wander.

A long time passed.

The mattress sank and her aunt was sitting next to her. "One of the neighbors called," she said. Her hand stroked Gloria's head. "Everyone is talking about some pictures of you on the Internet."

7

Gloria's phone buzzed, moving a little on the bed stand. She couldn't be sure if it was Monday or Tuesday. The fever had passed.

Her head felt clear for the first time in days.

The phone buzzed again.

Black Lover?

Donnell's text glowed.

He knew.

Gloria's heart hammered in her small frame. Her panties were damp, her camisole sweaty. Slipping out of bed, she winced as the muscles in her tender thighs rebelled.

The taste of cum was back.

Meet me in the park tonight, he wrote.

The cuts on the inside of her arm throbbed.

8

The dark park was silent, the night pleasant.

Gloria sat on a picnic table. Donnell held her head in his hands and kissed her mouth. She returned his kiss, her mind on all the cocks she'd sucked over the last few days. The taste of cum filled her mouth, but she accepted this taste as hers alone to bear. Donnell broke their kiss and gazed into her eyes. Her chest filled with dread. She knew it was a phantom taste, but she still expected him to discover her secret at any moment.

She was a cheating little whore.

A tramp.

He removed her panties.

He stood at the edge of the table and made love to her. The cool night air tickled her bare bottom, reminding her of the night in Julio's car. She turned her head away, ashamed. To hide her humiliation, she begged for harder.

She wanted him to pound her.

Hurt her.

Spank and piss on her.

He pulled out his cock and held it, throbbing in his fist. She eagerly opened her mouth, scooting her head toward the edge of the table.

She extended her slut tongue. Her mouth was his to use.

He erupted. She swallowed quickly and kept her mouth open, extending her tongue like a hungry cat. His cum sprayed her cheeks and forehead. Warm dollops landed in her hair, the front of her dress, her bare shoulders and chest. She wanted to bathe in his nasty cum. Soon his moans gave way to satisfied sighs and he stopped stroking himself. Covered in his sticky mess, she grinned sheepishly at him.

In the next instant, Gloria was bathed in a harsh, unforgiving light.

The dark park suddenly changed from night into day. She stared at a wet spot on the front of her dress, trying to understand what just happened to the cool night air around her.

A voice shouted: " Police!"

She cocked her head and squinted, holding her arm out and shielding her eyes with her hand. Donnell hiked his shorts to his waist, stuffed his cock into his pants, and broke into a run. Gloria sat up, quickly swinging her legs off the table and pushing her dress into her lap. She briefly considered following Donnell, but she wasn't sure which way he had gone or where her shoes or purse were.

That bright light disoriented her.

Instead of running, she squeezed her eyes shut, turned her head, and let out a low rolling wail. Someone raced past her. She heard the slap of fast moving feet and the jangle of a utility belt filled with all manner of equipment.

The light continued to shine in her face.

She looked to see if she could spot Donnell or the person chasing after him, but the light had ruined her night vision. She saw only the inky blackness of night. Turning back to the light, she stood up. She did this as much to allow her dress to fall back over her hips and cover her privates as to confront the person shining the light in her eyes.

"Don't move," a stern voice commanded.

This was Officer Jones.

Gloria stood still. Blood thumped in her ears.

She squinted, raising her arm. She tried to look past her hand to visualize the man holding the light on her. "Who are you?" she said. "We weren't doing anything."

"Lower your hand," Jones said.

Gloria lowered her hand.

She licked her lips and tasted cum. Alarm swelled in her chest. She was still covered in semen! Her hands went back up to wipe her face clean.

"Hands! Hands!" Jones shouted, his tone demanding and urgent.

Gloria froze, her hands inches from her face. This was her first arrest.

He instructed her to put her hands on her head.

She stood dumfound for a moment, then lowered her hands. She sighed noisily and slumped her shoulders in the way that eighteen year olds often do.

He repeated his command.

She rested her hands on top of her head. A cool breeze swept through the isolated picnic area, making her damp cheeks and chest tingle. "Oh, come on," she whispered. "This is so stupid."

In a few quick steps, Jones was behind her, slipping her wrists into handcuffs. As the cold metal touched her skin, her stomach sank.

"Sit," he commanded, nodding to the picnic table bench.

He shined the light in her face and she winced. She ducked her head, but he took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up. He moved her chin to the left and she felt a warm buzzing sensation in her ears.

Her mouth dried up.

He moved her head to the right.

She fidgeted her bottom on the hard bench.

He shined the light on her chest. Wet spots dotted her cleavage and the front of her dress. He let go of her chin, making a derisive sound with his mouth. He wiped his hand on his pants, then shook his head.

Her blood ran hot.

She shook her bangs from her eyes and presented her wet face.

He raised the light and it shone in her eyes. She opened her mouth and touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip. She turned her face first to the left, then to the right. Raising her brows, she showed her teeth and tilted her head. If he hadn't been shining that light in her eyes, she would have met his gaze.

He snorted.

Her heart hammered in her chest. Her pussy throbbed with blood.

He shined the light on the table top where her panties lay in a bunch. He softly chuckled and then shut the light off.

Crickets chipped and no one said anything.

"You're the Dean girl, right?" he said. He wasn't really asking a question. "I know your mom." Gloria shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "I know Louise, too," he said. He had a square face with a deep cleft in his chin. He was muscular and fit, but old enough to be her father. "She'll be disappointed," he said, "but not surprised." He lifted her panties with a crooked pinkie finger. "You're just like your mom," he laughed.

Gloria eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

"Fuck you," she whispered.

He grinned and let her panties fall back to the table.

His radio crackled, and he turned from her and began chatting into the microphone on his shoulder. The other cop returned, holding his cap in his hand and breathing hard.

This was Officer Flynn.

Jones chided him for his inability to catch Donnell. The two bantered back and forth, the way good friends who have known one another a long time often do.

Gloria never felt more alone in her life.

Flynn put his fists on his hips and looked at her. He was attractive. From the light of the moon, she could just make out his strong chin, the tattoos on his sinewy arms, his clean shaven face. He wore his blonde hair cropped close to his head and had the lean body of a sprinter. He looked the same age as Donnell. His gaze made her feel suddenly insecure.

"She try to run?" Flynn asked.

"Nope." The curt quality of his answer held some unspoken communication. Flynn looked at his partner, waiting for an explanation.

An awkward moment passed.

"The face," the older cop said. " The face."

Gloria's stomach fell. She gasped as if she had just plunged into that first deep valley on a rollercoaster ride. "Oh, fuck you," she spat. "You fucking fucker, fuck you." Her voice broke and she had to stop speaking for fear she would burst into tears.

The older cop's whole face broke into a grin.

Flynn smiled sheepishly and shook his head. Jones put his arm around Flynn and spoke quietly to him for a few minutes. Flynn kept looking back at Gloria during the whispered conversation. Suddenly their radios on both their shoulders barked. Jones took a few steps away from the table and spoke softly into his shoulder microphone. As he waited for a reply from dispatch, he looked at Flynn.

Flynn raised his chin and some tacit communication passed between them.

Jones walked into the park, and Flynn put his foot on the bench opposite where Gloria sat. He clicked off his radio and looked at her.

She couldn't look at him.

"Let me clean my face," she whispered.

He took some keys from his belt, motioning for her to stand. The last of her anger drained from her shoulders, leaving her feeling spent. She got up and turned her back to him, presenting her hands.

"Your boyfriend," Flynn said, "is a bad character."

He freed her hands and she rubbed her wrists.

"Not bad to me," she said over her shoulder.

He kept his body close to her even after the handcuffs were off. He put his hand on her shoulder and leaned past her toward the table. His hand was warm and heavy, and his chest brushed against her back.

"You could do better," he said.

Her heart fluttered.

"Here," he said, scoping her panties from the table. "Clean up."

He held out her underwear.

She hesitated.

His hand still cupped her shoulder. She looked at her underclothing and then where his hand rested on her shoulder. It seemed trashy to clean herself in front of him, but he behaved with confidence and professionalism and this gave her the nerve she needed to take the panties from his hand. She briefly considered asking him to turn away, but then decided against it. He was treating her better than his partner had and she didn't want to push her luck.

He folded his arms across his chest, remaining close.

Gloria dabbed at her forehead.

He launched into friendly banter. He told her he knew Donnell and that the two of them had competed against one another in high school sports. She wiped her cleavage, and he leaned forward to watch her hands. She accepted this from him, mainly because he was a policeman and she was in his custody. His interest fanned her arousal. Her nipples rubbed against the fabric of her dress and it was hard to focus on what he was saying. She finished wiping herself and he was still talking about athletics. She stood politely listening to him.

"You done?"

She nodded eagerly.

"Put those back on," he said. He nodded to the panties in her hands.

"These?" She squeaked. It seemed like an inappropriate request, but his expression revealed nothing. She grinned, glancing around the dark park. Her pussy throbbed with desire. She was at his mercy, his prisoner. Holding her panties out in front of her, she stepped into them and hiked her skirt high on her hips to get them on.

He raised his eyes to hers, an amused look on his face.

"Good girl," he said. He took he handcuffs from his belt and motioned for her to turn around. Her shoulders slumped with disappointment.

"Officer Flynn," she whined.

He grinned. His smile encouraged her.

She marshaled her courage.

"Let me go," she begged, twisting her skirt in her hands. "I promise I won't do it again." His eyes went to her hips, and she twisted her skirt tighter, making it ride high on her thighs. "Please," she whispered.

She held her breath.

"Sure," he shrugged his shoulders. "I can let you go."

She hadn't expected him to give in so easily. She laughed and let out her breath in a big relieved sigh. Her pussy was soaked.

"Can you do something for me?" he whispered.

Her breath caught in her throat. She dropped her skirt and swallowed hard.

"What, what . . . does a girl have to do?" she asked.

The taste of cum was back.

He snorted softly. " A girl ," he whispered, "just has to bend over this table."

Flynn rapped twice on the wood with his knuckles.

"I'll do the rest."

His hands went to her hips and started exploring her body. She could feel her pussy creaming as he ran his hands over her bottom. He lifted the hem of her dress and rubbed her ass. Gloria squirmed and pushed her dress back down.

"Where's your partner?" Her voice came out in a husky whisper.

"Foot patrol," Flynn said, his voice firm. "He walks the whole park."

He was telling her it would be their little secret. A thrill rippled in her chest, but then a wave of guilt crashed over her. "You won't tell Donnell?" she squeaked.

She pressed her body against his, reaching up to put her arms around his neck. She could feel his hard cock against her tummy. "You won't tell?" she said.

He grinned and cupped her ass in his hands.

Gloria moaned softly.

Flynn settled himself on the edge of the picnic table and pulled Gloria toward him. She straddled his leg, pressing her crotch into his thigh. Her dress rode up to an indecent height and she allowed it. She explored his strong chest, enjoying the feeling of his thigh between her legs. His lips were full and luscious. Gloria craned her neck for a kiss, but he wouldn't tilt his head to meet her lips. She took his head in her hands.