The new neighbor 5

Two weeks after our encounter in the alley, Kelly decided it was our turn to host. “We should have Kristen and Josh over for dinner,” she said one evening, completely unaware of the jolt the suggestion sent through me. “It would be fun. A proper ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ dinner.” I agreed, my mouth dry, knowing there was no way to say no without raising suspicion.

The day of the dinner, my phone was a source of constant, illicit torture.

The first text from Kristen came around noon.
Counting down the hours until tonight. I hope you’re ready for me.

My hands trembled slightly as I typed back a noncommittal, Looking forward to it.

An hour before they were due to arrive, as I was seasoning the steaks, my phone buzzed again.
I’m thinking about what you taste like. Hope you’re hungry… for more than just dinner.

I had to put my phone down and take a deep breath, my heart hammering against my ribs.

When they arrived, the evening started with a deceptive normalcy. Josh brought a fantastic bottle of wine, Kelly was a gracious host, and the four of us made easy small talk in the living room. But beneath the surface, the air was electric. Kristen was wearing a simple, dark blue dress that clung to her curves, and every time she looked at me, her eyes held a secret, burning promise that was meant only for me. I could feel her gaze on me as I laughed at one of Josh’s jokes, and when she handed me a glass of wine, her fingers deliberately grazed mine for a moment too long.

We sat down for dinner, the conversation flowing easily between Kelly and Josh, who were deep in a discussion about a new show they were both watching. Under the table, I felt something brush against my leg. It was Kristen’s foot, slowly, deliberately, tracing a line up the inside of my calf. I nearly choked on my wine. Kelly looked over, concerned. “You okay, honey?”

“Fine,” I croaked, clearing my throat. “Just went down the wrong pipe.” Across the table, a tiny, triumphant smile played on Kristen’s lips. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I risked a quick glance under the table.

I want to be under this table right now instead of sitting at it.

After the main course, I stood up. “I’m going to grab us another bottle of that craft beer from the garage fridge for you, Josh,” I announced.

“Oh, I’ll help!” Kristen said, standing up a little too quickly. “I can grab my sweater from the car while I’m out there, it’s getting a little chilly.”

Kelly and Josh just nodded, continuing their conversation, completely oblivious. The moment the door to the garage clicked shut behind us, plunging us into the dim light, Kristen had me pushed back against the wall.

“You are driving me insane,” she whispered, her voice husky.

“Kristen, this is crazy. They’re right inside,” I breathed, but my protest was weak.

“I know,” she said, a wild look in her eyes. “That’s what makes it so hot. You have two minutes.”

Before I could process it, she was on her knees on the cold concrete floor. She unzipped my jeans with a practiced urgency and took me into her mouth. It was a frantic, desperate act. Her passion was raw and untamed, a stark contrast to the polite dinner party happening just a few feet away. The thrill of it, the sheer, insane risk, was a powerful aphrodisiac. She was relentless, her head moving with a desperate rhythm.

Suddenly, we heard Kelly’s laughter through the thin door. It was close.

Kristen pulled back instantly, a string of saliva connecting us for a brief moment before she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. I was still throbbing, painfully hard and nowhere near finished.

“Not here,” she whispered, a frustrated fire in her eyes as she stood up and smoothed down her dress. “But soon.”

She quickly slipped out the side door of the garage to feign getting her sweater, while I took a few deep, shaky breaths to compose myself before grabbing the beer and heading back inside. The rest of the dinner was a blur of polite smiles and feigned interest.

Later that night, after they had gone and Kelly was asleep, my phone lit up one last time.

That was just an appetizer. Next time, I’m finishing what I started. And you’re not getting away so easily.

To be continued.