Chapter 16: Neighbors Know Best

The next morning, I awoke feeling light, as memories from the date yesterday filled my head, the music, the drinks, the kisses, the sex, and his smile as we dressed and left. Even the world appeared brighter, while dust motes sparkled in the sunbeam. I hummed and twirled into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

My lips even looked different, more mature, softer, fuller. I could still taste him, his lips, and I could even still feel his kiss and, of course, his size inside me. I shivered at the memories and tingled as I brushed my hair and admired my eyes in the mirror. They looked different, older, wiser, more womanlike.

I didn’t even fight with Poly, who lay on her bed, her phone in her hand, as she said, “How are you feeling this morning?” Like, what did she mean by that? And her smile, as if she smiled at me like she wanted me to pick a fight, but I refused. Instead, I walked into her room and slapped her ass. Playful, but she dropped her phone as she sat up and said, “You have to be careful!”

“I’m not a child,” I said as I glanced at her phone screen, where an asian pussy lay spread, likely Cindy’s, while Polly’s fingers spread the vulva. An image of Polly filming me caused my face to burn and rush out of her room.

“You have to be careful! Dumbass,” Polly shouted. I didn’t turn and scream at her, because I wouldn’t let her destroy the beautiful, perfect day. I waved to Mom, who sat at the table with a cup of coffee, and rushed over to Mrs. Reynolds to make her breakfast, and perhaps, if the topic comes up, talk about last night.

I smiled at Mrs. Reynolds as I brought her breakfast. She sat on the couch in a cloth bathrobe. She didn’t wear a bra, and her breasts almost spilled out. She had hairy legs and yellowed toenails. She needed a little bit of TLC.

“You’re happy,” she said. I nodded as I hummed and sang while I cleaned.

“Zezerka, can we talk?” Mrs. Reynolds asked as she placed her half-eaten bagel on the plate, right beside her uneaten cut apples. She had finished the coffee and even commented that it tasted better than usual. Love, love makes it taste better.

The silly soap opera played on the TV. The daughter just finished in the bedroom with the pool boy. She didn’t know it yet, but we, the audience, know all about their relationship, siblings, but from different mothers, same dad, but they grew up apart. The dad doesn’t know that the pool boy’s mother arranged for the boy to get a job at the house to spy on the dad, because she wanted to get back together. Would a brother feel different? Like they would know what to do the best, but the way Polly and I fight, would sex turn out like that, just a long fight about who’s on top, or who does what. Well, on the bottom works best for me, I proved that last night, fantastic, magical previous night.

“Zezerka, have a seat,” Mrs. Reynolds tapped the couch beside her, with the laptop open on the table in front of her.