LLP-119 The Reluctant Neighbor by Peter Jenkins


Chapter 1


Marily lay back on the rumpled bed as though she were a broken rag 
doll. Her legs were spread obscenely apart, one knee slightly bent, her 
breast jutting out from her chest, and one arm limp across her sperm-
filled stomach. She was watching her next door neighbor, the man who 
had just raped her putting his clothes on. She looked at him from the 
depth of her dark brown eyes, keeping him in focus, not wanting to see 
what she was looking at, but staring, not missing one movement that he 
made. Masculine was the only word that came to her mind. It almost 
amused her that he would put on his shirt before he did his under-
drawers, that his now limp penis hung down beyond the tails of his 
shorts. Her own husband would never dress in such a disorganized 
manner.

Peter buttoned his shirt carefully, then knotted his tie, then reached 
to the floor for his jock shorts. He glanced at the voluptuous young 
woman laying on the bed, sprawled, her thighs still open and wet, and 
wanted to go back to her, to burn and scald her as he had done moments 
before. But, he felt as though she were staring a hole through him, 
looking at him but seeing what he could only guess at. He put one leg 
then the other through the shorts, then pulled them up around his 
waist. He reached inside, adjusted his still half erect prick so that 
it rode where it should, then took up his trousers and put them on, 
buttoned the buttons, then cinched up his belt. He took his coat from 
the chair and rammed his arms through it, then sat on the same chair 
and put on his shoes and socks. Then he stood and faced her. "Look," he 
hesitated, talking down to her on the bed from his six feet two inch 
height, "You were good. And, I'll be back again. I know you enjoyed it 
even if I did have to force you a little at first."

He leaned slightly forward, wanting to shake the eerie feeling that she 
gave him, wishing that she would say one word, any word, so that he 
could be sure that she was hearing what he said. She didn't and her 
eyes remained as void as they had been when he began speaking. "I'll 
have to go now. I'll see you tomorrow. And just remember that I came 
here by your invitation. I don't think you'll tell old Fred anyway. And 
I don't think he'd care one way or the other. So, see you later." He 
turned from her, left the bedroom, walked down the hall, then went 
through the front door, banging it arrogantly shut behind him. Marily 
heard his tread on the hall floor, then the closing of the door, then 
silence. She found herself wishing he would have, at least, gone out 
the back way so the other neighbors wouldn't have seen him leaving ... 
but, oh what the hell. What did it all matter anyway? She lay as she 
was, wondering why she was so cold, so unrelated to what had happened, 
then was grateful for the pain that reminded her that she had been 
raped, used, like a whore by her neighbor, a neighbor she had just met. 
She forced herself to go over all the events that led up to that sudden 
happening one hour ago.


End of Page 1. See llp-119.txt for full story.