(i)Excitement squeezed.
Carla was outside the neighbor’s house, a paperback book in hand in case anyone happed to see. She was returning the book, maybe stepping inside for a coffee and chat. Nothing unusual in it. Friendly neighborhood stuff.
Carla was wearing a light summer dress and canvas deck-shoes, stockings under the dress, outrageous hooker-shoes in her bag.
“God, come on,” Carla muttered.
She was impatient, arousal hot between her legs.
The door opened.
The neighbor grinned, all friendly.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi yourself.”
“They’re in the basement,” the neighbor said.
Carla’s p***y fluttered.
“Uh, there’s four of ‘em,” the neighbor added.
“Take the f*****g book … Invite me in for coffee.”
The neighbor’s eyes moved over Carla’s body.
He looked at her face. Shrugged.
Asked
