Chapter 23: A Neighbor’s Comfort

“Really, you think I could?” I asked and knew that I would target Cindy. Jennifer had Tyler, Helen had Kamran, but Cindy didn’t have anyone. Come to think about it, I don’t think she ever had a boyfriend. And I knew that she liked guys because she and Polona talked about them all the time. I also wanted Cindy because of the sexual noises she made sometimes when she visited. Louder than Jennifer, I sometimes don’t need to put a glass against the wall to hear her.

“What do you think?” Mrs. Reynolds said and spread her legs wide, wide enough for me to get my head between them, which the sexual side of me loved, and made my entire body tingle. The other side of me erupted in annoyance that she destroyed my headrest.

I shifted around until I kneeled in front of her, my knees pressed into the soft carpet, but also some dirt or rocks. I so needed to vacuum. My hands touched her thighs and spread her legs wider, as her meaty, shaved pussy stared at me through the nearly translucent wet fabric of her panties. I leaned closer and took a deep inhale and her musk inflamed my mind.

As I moved my head closer, and closer, Mrs. Reynolds’ breathe rate increased. I had a wicked idea, one that I wouldn’t have acted upon before we started hanging out together, but now wanted to do more than anything. Instead of diving right in, I wanted to tease her, to make her squirm. I wanted to explore her body and make her need me, want me, lose control over me. I wanted the power over someone else.

My lips brushed the inside of her right knee, and she shuddered and moaned. A kiss on her upper middle thigh, then higher, small kisses, just puckers and lip presses, but she moaned and spread her legs wider. I loved it. The power. The control.

I kissed until I arrived inches from her pussy, which leaked and gave off the loveliest scent. Her white panties had turned fully translucent, her pink vulva swelled and pressed against the fabric, while her dark pubic hair made cool swirls. I so wanted to lick her, to taste her, to do the things I saw in her videos. Things Mom and Dad did together, and things they did to her in all the videos I watched. Things that I knew Polly did in her room with her friends, for her channel that she didn’t know that I knew about, watched, and studied.

“Oh yes,” she moaned, deep, from her belly, that pulled in and thrust out her breasts.

“Just a second,” I said and sat back on my heels as I touched, more caressed, the edge of her pussy, along her labium majus. Her half-closed eyes flickered as she stared at me, her mouth slightly wide in an O before a tiny smile emerged, as if she approved, wanted me to take control, wanted me to take her.

I found the remote, switched the TV to the special channel, and put Dad’s speech on. “Eyes on the TV,” I said and waited until she nodded and stared at the TV instead of me. Control. I had control over her. My mind soared, but it also scared me. The power almost overwhelmed me. The stuff I could do. Nasty stuff slithered into my mind. Things about using Mrs. Reynolds as a play doll, inserting objects into her, using her to seduce Dad, to seduce Mom, to torment Polly. I could use her as a neighborhood whore. It shocked me how deep and depraved my mind went, and I vowed to use my power, my control, for good, only good.