Cheryl and Samuel at 323 Harper's Cove Page 2

  “Hmmmm.” I can almost feel her contemplating that idea. “I’ll have to give that a lot of thought.”

  “Yeah, me too. He suggested that if you and Daniel have one, and Samuel and I have the other, and we manage to do it about the same time, then during the summers we could divide the time, both here for half the summer, and both there for half the summer. They’d be best friends, and we’d all be their parents. I think it could work.”

  “Hmmmm,” she says again. “I’ll talk to Daniel about it.”

  “I’m sure Samuel will, if he hasn’t already. But really, what do you think?”

  “I think it’s a decent idea. I think getting the guys to impregnate us may be a problem, but we can try. We can always use artificial insemination.”

  “Sure. That would work. I mean, if they’re just completely unwilling to do the deed. Or unable.”

  “Yeah. We don’t turn them on!” she giggles. Then she sobers and says, “But seriously, if we don’t do this pretty soon, we won’t be able to. We’re both early forties. We won’t be able to wait for long.”

  “Quit reminding me!” I laugh and kiss her. Her mouth is still sweet with my juices, and her softness feels good against mine. I want her again, need her. “I’m just not sure how I feel about being a parent. Now, will you please get Priscilla over there and fuck me?” I ask, pointing to our pink double-ended strap-on.

  “Oh, you want to be fucked, do you?” she sing-songs, reaching for the closest thing to a man that we’ve got. “I love this thing. The wearer’s end is so damn big!” She struggles for just a minute as she tries to shove it up into herself. “Ah, yeah. That’s good. So good. Ready for me, baby?”

  “More than ready. I want that big pink thing all up in my pussy right now. Get with it, sweet cheeks.”

  She bends down over me and kisses me. Then she stops. “Get up and bend over the side of the bed.” When I hesitate, she growls, “Now. Do it. I’m gonna fuck you from behind like the bitch you are.”

  “Horny bitch.” It only takes me a few seconds to get into position. I want this.

  “Yeah. Horny bitch. I love me some horny bitch, I do,” she snarls into my ear as she bends down over my back. “Spread ‘em, my sweet little drippy pussy.” When she slams the thing into me, I let out a squeal. “Oh, yeah, fuck! That’s some good pussy right there,” she groans out.

  “Feel it? Do you feel it, baby?”

  “Feel it and then some. I’m gonna fuck you like crazy.” Megan begins the onslaught and I’m almost beside myself. My god, that’s a fucking and a half, that big, pink dildo slamming into my cervix, and I know it’s doing the same to her. “You’re so pretty like that, babe, all bent over and taking it from me. Oh, god, that feels good. So good,” she moans out.

  I’m almost out of my mind. I need to come so badly, and that thing is grinding against my launch button down deep inside. I have to keep my hands on the bed, but I need to claw at my clit, make it hurt, make it throb. Coming is all I really want to do, and I let loose a scream when I finally let go, a gush of wetness slipping down my legs and onto the floor. Megan cries out and slams into me, then grinds as I tremble under her.

  The weight of her body on mine is comforting. I miss her so much when we’re not together. Seventeen years is a long time to lead two separate lives in order to at least have a life. I wish there was something we could do to make it easier, but so far, no one’s come up with anything. I just take what I can get, and tonight I get to be beside her. That’s the best thing I could ever hope for.

  A face peers in when the bedroom door pops open, and Samuel’s eyes meet mine. “You girls done?”

  I nod, but I know he can’t see me in the darkness. “Yeah.”

  “Damn.” His face disappears and I hear him mumble, “They’re done. We’re too late.”

  Dear lord. When they’re here, we’re at each other all the time. “Don’t worry. You’ll get another chance, I’m sure.”

  “I sure hope so!” I hear Daniel call out from farther down the hallway.

  “Damn voyeurs!” Megan laughs and smacks me with a pillow.

  “You’re one to talk!” I take mine and smack her back. “We’re all just a bunch of perverts.”

  “Hey! Watch with the name-calling!” Now we’re both giggling.

  “Would you guys keep it down in there? We’re trying to seriously fuck each other!” I hear Samuel yell down the hall.

  “Oooooo, let’s go watch them!” I’m heading for the door before Megan can say anything, but it doesn’t matter―she’s right on my heels. We stop short of the door, and I turn with a finger to my lips, then whisper to her, “Don’t let them know. Let’s play peeping tom.” So, after turning off all the lights so they don’t notice what we’re doing, we crack the door open and peek in.

  God, I love watching them. Daniel’s on his knees on the edge of the bed and Samuel’s powering into him like there’s no tomorrow. With every stroke, Daniel lets out, “Oh. Oh. Oh yeah. Oh. Oh baby. Oh yeah, fuck me. Fuck me. Yeah.” It’s almost meditative. Samuel, on the other hand, is silent except for some grunts, and he’s giving himself―and Daniel’s asshole―a real workout. It’s pretty awesome to watch, but the most awesome part is the way Daniel turns his head back to watch Sam from time to time, and Sam stops, leans forward, and kisses him. It’s hot and sweet, and I almost feel bad for watching.

  Almost.

  We finally hear Sam say, “Oh, yeah, I’m coming. Here it comes, babe. Here it comes. GAHHH!!!”

  Daniel just moans, then mumbles, “Well, hell, I made a mess in the bed.”

  “Yeah. About a gallon’s worth.”

  “And you didn’t?” Daniel snarks.

  Samuel is grinning. “Well, yeah, I did!” Megan picks that very moment to sneeze, and I hear Samuel say, “Oh, I see. You guys watched us, but we didn’t get to watch you. That doesn’t seem quite fair.”

  “Fair? I didn’t know this was about fair!” I squeal and run back down the hallway to our room, Megan right behind me.

  “Next time you get that strap on out, I want to be there!” Samuel is yelling from their room.

  Yeah. That strap on. I love that thing. That’ll be soon.

  4

  Gloria

  I was out taking a walk this lovely Saturday evening, just trying to get some fresh air, and I saw that couple going in over at the Danvers’ house, you know, our ministers. I’ve seen them over there before. They show up almost every weekend, and they stay the whole weekend. They usually come to church too. I was introduced to them―the Gholsons, I believe. Seem like nice people. Looks like the four of them have been out for dinner or something.

  Of course, they’d have to be to be friends with the Danvers. No one could not like the Danvers. They’re so nice. Reverend Cheryl is so sweet. I should have a talk with her sometime. I bet she has no idea what the rest of these crazy neighbors are up to. If she did, she’d be preaching up a storm to them, you can bet. She wouldn’t stand for that, I’m sure.

  I was just thinking the other day about the neighborhood. What would it take to get rid of some of the scum we have around here? First there are the Reynolds. They had that weird party in their backyard that time, and all those people over there for those big parties. And then Greg and Becca Henderson. They had another woman over there a while back. Sister my foot. She’s no sister to anyone in that family. I think there’s something really, really perverted going on over there.

  And what about those Millican people? Religious counselors. Yeah, right. I should ask Reverend Cheryl about them, see what she thinks. If they’re religious counselors, she’s bound to have heard of them. I don’t think there’s any counseling going on over there and if there is, it’s the naughty kind. And I still insist that was them in that newspaper article. I just know it was. Perverts.

  But those McIntosh people. Oh my god. I have no idea what in the world that was all about the night I just happened to be walking by and accidentally stepped up onto their porch. I
mean, my god, it was like Armageddon in real life, all that flashing and noise and craziness. Who would have all of that going on at their house? What kind of people do that? Just crazy, I’m telling you. Just crazy.

  So once I get inside, I get my phone from my purse and look up the contact, and then I call. It rings and a woman’s soft voice says, “Hello?”

  “Hello, Reverend Cheryl?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is Gloria Livingston. You know, from down the street.”

  “Oh, yes! Mrs. Livingston! How are you?”

  “I’m good, I’m good. Listen, I really need to make an appointment to come and talk to you. It’s about the neighborhood here and sin, if you know what I mean.”

  “No, I’m not sure I do, Mrs. Livingston. What are you talking about?”

  Why is she playing dumb? If she hasn’t noticed weird stuff going on, she must be blind. “Well, you know, the odd goings-on around the neighborhood. We’ve got some neighbors doing some pretty strange things, from what I can tell.”

  “What kind of strange things, Mrs. Livingston?” Poor thing. She’s so busy she hasn’t noticed.

  “You know, strange things.” I lower my voice. “You know, sex stuff.”

  There’s silence for a moment, and then she asks, “And how would you know about any of that?”

  Now she’ll get to find out just what kind of stuff Gloria Livingston is made of, yes she will. “I keep my eyes and ears open. I watch. I know that some of the people in this neighborhood aren’t like normal people.”

  She waits for a few seconds before she says, “I see. And why do you need to talk to me about it? I don’t know anything about it.”

  Well, now, that’s a shock. A minister who doesn’t want to know about the sin going on around them. Well, la-tee-dah. She’s got her head in the sand. “I think you should know about the sin going on all around you. And―”

  She interrupts and says, “Mrs. Livingston, everyone has sinned. God doesn’t see one sin as any bigger or worse than another.”

  “Oh, really? So you don’t think killing a baby is any worse than taking a piece of chewing gum from your friend’s purse without her permission?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think, only what God thinks. And God sees all sin as equal. So if they’re doing something of which you don’t approve, you’re sinning just as much for judging them. Does that make sense?”

  Oh, it makes sense, all right. She’s defending them! What the heck? Why would she do that? “But you’re a minister. I thought you were supposed to be against sin?”

  “I’m not a fan, but I’m not about judging others either. You know, before you criticize your neighbor for the speck in his eye, you should get the plank out of yours.”

  I can’t believe this. She’s taking up for them. I never expected this, not in a million years. “Reverend Cheryl, for your information, I think the McAllisters were the couple in that newspaper article about the horrible slave thing.”

  “Slave thing?”

  “Yeah. It’s letters. SMD? DDS? I don’t know. I didn’t understand what they were talking about.”

  “You mean BDSM?”

  “THAT’S it. Yeah.” Wait. How does she know about this stuff? “You know about something like that?”

  “Well, of course. We have to study that kind of thing in seminary so we know how to counsel people.”

  “Oh! Well, that makes sense, I suppose.”

  “So what were we supposed to talk about?”

  “About what we should do about them.” Wow. This woman is kinda slow, if you know what I mean.

  “What would you like to do about them?” she asks me.

  I almost laugh. “Well, I’d really like to run them out of the neighborhood!”

  “If you’re right about how many families in this neighborhood are doing things that are questionable and you want to run them out, that’s going to be an awful lot of empty houses on this street, don’t you think? And you know what happens when houses are empty all around you. Your property values go down, and then they start deteriorating, and next thing you know, you’re in a slum.”

  Good grief. We’ve gone from getting rid of sin to living in a slum. Reverend Cheryl isn’t quite a smart as I thought. This isn’t going at all like I’d expected, and I need to get out of this conversation before she turns it against me. “I guess you have some valid points. I suppose I should go and start dinner. Russell doesn’t like to eat too late.”

  “Certainly. If I can do anything for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  I just shake my head and roll my eyes. “Why, thank you, Reverend Cheryl. I’ll remember that. Thanks so much for the little chat.”

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for calling. Have a nice evening, Mrs. Livingston.”

  A nice evening. It would be lots nicer if she’d acted like she cared even just a little bit. But it doesn’t sound like she does.

  Once again, it’s me against the world. Well, the world on this street. And sin―me against sin. And perversion. Just little old me.

  I should find that bottle of port. I’m going to need fortification.

  5

  Cheryl

  “We need to have a chat.” I’ve gathered the other three in the living room. Daniel is practically sitting in Samuel’s lap. Megan is sitting beside me on the sofa, trying to hold my hand. Right now, I don’t want my hand held. I want them all to pay attention. “I just got a call from Gloria Livingston.”

  “What’s a Gloria Livingston?” Daniel asks and giggles.

  Samuel slaps him on the leg. “Pay attention to Cheryl.”

  “Okay, Cheryl, who is she?”

  I shake my head. “She’s the neighborhood resident busybody. She called me earlier, wanted to talk to me about helping her get the ‘sin’ out of the neighborhood.”

  Samuel’s eyes pivot to meet mine. “What sin?”

  “She’s convinced everyone in the neighborhood is doing something kinky.”

  Megan eyes me. “And what do you think?”

  “I think it’s absolutely none of my business. Unless they’re naked and fucking each other in the front yard, it’s absolutely, positively none of my business.”

  “So why are you telling us this?” Daniel wants to know.

  “Because she’s watching everyone in the neighborhood.” Now I’ve got their full attention. “That means we’ve got to be vigilant. No PDAs outside the house. Blinds drawn when we’re all together. Careful about how loud we get. We’ve just got to watch it.”

  Samuel hasn’t said a word the entire time we’ve been sitting there. Finally, I just have to ask, “Sam? You okay?”

  He shakes his head slowly. “No. No, I’m not. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of hiding and pretending to be something I’m not.” Daniel takes one of his hands and kisses the back of it, and Samuel’s eyes close as he lets out a tired sigh.

  “I know, sweetie. But we have to preserve the relationships and our livelihoods.”

  “Yeah, Samuel, remember that case in Kentucky? That religious children’s home that fired the lesbian woman? They’re still fighting that in the courts. And that stupid craft store chain just won the right to keep their insurance from paying for birth control for their employees. Small-minded, critical people are everywhere. And yes, they affect our lives. Know what the best revenge is? To have a good life in spite of them.” She smiles and I feel everything in me go warm. And suddenly, I feel just like Samuel. I’m so tired of this.

  But the show must go on.

  She trails down my body with her tongue, then rakes it back up to my breast and licks my nipple before grabbing it with her teeth and sucking it into her mouth. Everything inside me starts to hum. I can’t do anything but let the feeling soak into me and take me down as she licks, sucks, tugs, nips, and generally works them over like she knows I want. Her hand drifts down my torso, stopping here and there to pinch me, and every time she does, I wriggle and squirm. God, that makes me horny. No one on earth has
ever loved anyone more than I love her. It’s just not possible. When her fingers slip inside my slick channel, I want to cry or sing or dance. She knows exactly how to touch me, and that’s exactly what she does, until I’m begging her to go on, begging her to stop, begging her to tell me that she loves me.

  “I love you, Cheryl. I could never love anyone more than I love you.” She stops and looks into my eyes. “Do you believe me?”

  “I do. And I feel the same way about you.” I feel her fingers spreading my lower lips and searching for my clit, and when she finds it again, she says, “Hey, did I tell you the funny thing that happened the other day with Sister Mary Margaret?”

  “No.”

  “She asked me what my favorite scripture was.” There’s a slow grin spreading across her face. I can’t wait to hear this.

  “Yeah?”

  “And I told her, ‘It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.’”

  My eyes fly open wide. “You didn’t! That’s not scripture! That’s Tennyson!”

  “I know!” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “I don’t know any scripture. So I tried again.”

  I chuckle. “So what did you come up with the second time?”

  Without a hiccup she says, “‘He who hesitates is lost.’”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “No. That’s all I had.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said, ‘Well, obviously you don’t know a thing about scripture.’”

  Now I’m shrieking with laughter. “And what did you tell her?”

  “I said, ‘No, but I know what you’re wearing under that habit!’”

  “You didn’t!” I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe.

  “I did!” Before I can ask what happened, she says, “She just harrumphed and said, ‘Well, I never!’ And I said, ‘No, I’m sure you haven’t.’ She didn’t think that was very funny. I thought it was hysterical!”