The Neighbors Will Talk

By Huck Pilgrim

Gloria Dean is a runaway. She tries to start a new life in Carnal, but she can't run away from herself. Donnell must never learn what she did in her boss's Volvo. Rafia Saad is an outsider. She wants to be more like her American friends. Her loved ones must never know what she did at the house party with the entire football team. Veronica Smith is reckless. Living in a cocoon of wealth and privilege, she screws up a lot but always manages to skate out of trouble. This time she's gone too far. One fateful, hot summer, the private lives of Gloria, Veronica, and Rafia change forevermore. 

 

Four connected stories about the secret lives of innocent, small-town girls. 

 

From the Back Cover

 

JOE MURPHY thinks of himself as a standup guy, always willing to help a neighbor or a friend. He gives sweet GLORIA DEAN a job babysitting his kids, but it all goes wrong when she invites her bad-boy boyfriend Donnell into the house. What happens next makes the summer explode. Gloria has a secret now. The weight of carrying it puts her on the wrong side of the law, up against a police force that isn't interested in confession.

 

Meanwhile, RAFIA SAAD is a young woman who wants to be popular. She's the special guest at a party hosted by Veronica, one of the town's most popular cheerleaders. It's a wild night until Mr. Smith arrives home early and throws all the revelers out. The next morning, he finds Rafia in one of the upstairs guest rooms. Did she want popularity? Now she's popular. But it's the choices she makes the morning after the party, in Mr. Smith's guest room, that will bring her to the center of the town's attention.

 

Finally, Joe lands a business deal with Donnell that takes an unexpected turn when Veronica shows up, eager to do a little business of her own. Joe knows Veronica's folks and feels obligated to protect her, but it's not an easy task. Her behavior has triggered Donnell's ire, and he's nursing a grudge. Worse, Joe's behavior with Gloria has weakened his negotiating position. If Joe wants to save himself, he may find he has to make a little sacrifice, maybe even something dear. Will it be Veronica? Or maybe his own high opinion of himself? In the end, he may find that he has nowhere left to hide.

 

The Neighbors Will Talk is a fast-paced romp through taboo situations (including interracial relationships, infidelity, public humiliation, and more). For discriminating readers only, this collection of stories has action, adventure, and heartbreak enough to steal your breath and leave you satisfied.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Huck Pilgrim Presents
• Release date: Oct 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393390244

Huck Pilgrim

Huck Pilgrim has lived on the streets of New York City, in a communal home for Christians, and on an American submarine out of San Diego. He has washed dishes, made costumed helium balloon deliveries, and robbed designer jeans from department stores. Huck writes gritty stories about submission, blackmail, and coercion. Occasionally he tosses a hand grenade of action and adventure into the mix. Huck's stories are vivid fantasies, exploring the darker sides of submission and exposure. In Huck's stories, the mousy girl becomes suddenly bold and capable, often discovering the hidden slut inside her. The men are handsome, hard-bitten, and cruel, enjoying all manner of debauchery. Follow Huck Pilgrim's latest releases by joining his mailing list. http://huckpilgrim.com/news Contact Huck at [e-mail]

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The Neighbors Will Talk

By Huck Pilgrim

Huck Pilgrim Presents

The Neighbors Will Talk © August 2018

by

Huck Pilgrim

First Edition, June 2016

Cover design © 2017 by James, GoOnWrite.com

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Portions of The Sitter Needs a Ride first appeared in Summer Shorts. Portions of The Neighbors Will Talk first appeared in Bench Warrant. A version of American Girl and Dirty Business first appeared in titles of the same name.

The Neighbors Will Talk

In a small town somewhere in the USA . . .

A father seduces his babysitter, then drops her off at home. The sitter feels guilty and goes on a sexual rampage, exposing herself on the Internet, sucking a stranger's cock, even fucking all night in a drunken stupor. Meanwhile, the new girl in town hooks up with a football player at a house party, then discovers the rest of the team expects a turn. Finally, the father from the opening story returns, this time to watch as his best friend's daughter reluctantly agrees to filthy sex with a dangerous group of black thugs.

Welcome to Carnal, the little town with the most wicked stories.

ROCKET RIDE

The Sitter Needs a Ride

Joe saw Donnell's car hidden in the alley. Turning into the driveway, Joe didn't mention the car to Molly. In the house, they found the kids alone in the living room watching a movie. Gloria wasn't around.

Joe furrowed up his chin.

Molly sat on the couch. She petted the youngest child's head and yanked off one of her heels. The kids were eleven and twelve, old enough that they didn't need a sitter, but Joe had wanted Gloria to prove herself.

He went looking for her.

He went into the kitchen. Through the dining room and down the hall. Into the master bedroom. He had an idea of how he might find her, and it sent a dirty thrill straight through him. Her parents hadn't put her out because she was an innocent. An attractive girl, she was eighteen or nineteen. Mediterranean skin, slim hips. He'd met her at the after-Mass social in Saint Barnaby's basement. Something about her shy accommodating manner appealed to him. Slipping into the garage, he heard a soft grunt from behind a stack of boxes.

He'd found her.

He crept closer, his cock making a lazy roll in his pants. Gloria was kneeling at Donnell's feet, her hand pumping his shaft, her head enthusiastically following. Her blouse was open to her waist, exposing the thin straps of her bra and the soft white of her tummy. Her hair shone in the dim light. Wet sucking noises came from her mouth.

Her eyes fluttered open. Shock and fear registered on her face.

Joe kept his face neutral. He didn't want to appear angry. To appear angry would be to get more involved than he already was, and he didn't need that. He needed to get Donnell out of his garage. Get Gloria back home to her aunt.

Get his evening back.

Her eyes were wide open now, staring right at Joe.

She moved her hands to Donnell's thighs and tried to rise, to separate herself from the act she was performing on him. But Donnell had other plans. He held her head, grunted, and thrust his hips forward. What could she do? She closed her eyes, drawing her brows together. She made soft cooing noises.

Joe's cock swelled up.

Her eyes fluttered open, hands resting on Donnell's thighs. Her face was flush. His cock was still in her mouth and she looked up at him.

"What the fuck," Joe said. He kept his voice low, just a touch of menace.

Donnell jerked back, spinning his head and shoulders.

Get the fuck outta here, Joe said.

Donnell grinned. He fumbled with his wet dick. He was older than Gloria, twenty or twenty-two. He laughed, but his eyes remained flat. Fuck, man, Donnell snorted. Fuck. He pulled at his cock, milking it.

Molly, Joe hissed, impatience in his voice.

Donnell showed the white of his teeth.

Gloria rose from her knees and stood close to Donnell. Searching his face, she looked as if she were trying to determine what her own response should be. She pressed herself against him, craning her lips to his mouth.

Donnell straightened his back, a sour look on his face. He made a small sound of disbelief and looked at her with disapproval. Gloria abruptly pulled back, as if she'd been slapped. She cut her eyes to Joe and then quickly looked away, cheeks rosy with shame.

Donnell murmured something.

She hurriedly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand then started buttoning her shirt. Donnell sauntered toward the door, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. Fuck it, he said. He grabbed between his legs. I'm out. I'm out. I'm all the way out. He slipped through the door and then disappeared around the side of the house.

Joe went to the door and peered outside. An engine started and tires chirped.

Donnell was gone.

Gloria was looking at her feet, smoothing the fabric of her shirt. Joe didn't know what to say to her. He tipped her chin up with his fingertips, but she twisted her head away from his touch. She refused to look in his eyes. Do you want Molly to know? he asked. He kept his tone even. Gentle. She might burst into tears and he didn't want that.

She'll tell Louise, he warned.

I don't care, she said. Her voice was sullen, but she'd spoken.

You're wet, he told her.

He offered her a bandanna from his back pocket. There was something wet just above her sternum, something else in her hair. He used the bandanna to dab at a damp spot on her cheek, averting his eyes from the shallow valley between her breasts. He knew her Aunt Louise but not very well. She'd volunteered Gloria for the babysitting job. He hadn't needed a sitter, but he'd gotten the sense that Gloria needed to prove something to her, or vice versa, so he went along with the plan. In a small town like Carnal, you learned early on to always accommodate your neighbor's needs.

Wipe yourself, he said.

She took the kerchief from Joe. Her hand trembled.

You've got some in your hair, too, he said, trying to sound kind. Helpful.

The kids hollered from somewhere inside the house.

Molly called out. She was coming.

Joe moved fast, crossing the room and punching the button for the garage door. It kicked to life with a great mechanical yawn. Halfway up, he punched the button again. It stopped. Cool night air swirled into the garage.

What are you two doing in here? Molly asked.

The door opened on its own again, Joe said. It was a lie. He didn't know why he was lying, but it was too late now. He punched the button. The door shuddered and made its way back along its tracks.

Molly narrowed her eyes.

Joe watched the door. Gloria heard it go up, he said. He nodded to Gloria. She was cleaning her face in the workbench mirror. Their eyes met and hers remained flat.

Wary.

Molly put her fists on her hips.

Watching the door shudder into the full open position, she tilted her head and sighed. Jesus, Molly said, looking at Gloria. I'm sorry you had to deal with this bullshit.

Gloria smiled at Molly, then gazed back into the mirror.

Get someone to look at it this time Joe, Molly said. It's not safe.

Joe punched the button again.

The door came churning back down. He made a joke about the boogeyman slipping into the garage. Turning to Molly, he found Gloria looking at him through the glass. Their eyes met. She smirked, crinkling her nose. Had she ever smiled at him before? Joe couldn't be sure. It was certainly a first for tonight.

He kept his face even. Molly was watching.

Gloria bit her lip. Holding his eye, she dabbed the bandana into her cleavage.

His cock swelled.

***

Gloria hadn't said two words since they'd begun the drive to her aunt's house. With her tight jeans and slim hips, she looked even more attractive, all pouty and grim. Pulling the car into the darkest part of the parking lot, Joe shut it down.

The engine ticked as it cooled.

He grinned at her.

He got out and walked to the ATM. Crickets chirped. The cool June air felt good on his arms. He was a real estate agent, a good one. Used to getting his way. He felt that same slight fluttering in his belly as when he'd first found Gloria in the garage. The image of her on her knees at Donnell's feet popped into his mind. He'd seen fear, panic in her eyes. But then he'd noticed something else, something not so much in the frightened look that she gave him, or the way she surrendered to her circumstance, but in the way she then threw herself into satisfying her man, working his cock with her hands and mouth. The way she ignored everything else.

He punched in his numbers, listened to the ATM hum.

She'd liked it. She liked being watched. She liked performing for a man.

She was so young she probably didn't even realize it herself. Suddenly he decided to make another, much larger withdrawal—three hundred dollars. He worked the machine and grinned. She needed another audition, another chance to perform.

Joe got back into the car and found her smoking.

You got another one of those? he asked.

Gloria tapped a cigarette out of her pack and silently handed it to him. Lighting up, he exhaled smoke. He put the cigarette in his mouth. Fanned the cash in his hand.

How much do I owe you? he asked. He counted through the bills, passing them from one hand to the other.

You don't have to pay me anything, she said.

No, no—I want to, he said. He peeled off five twenties and handed them to her. She looked at the money, but didn't move.

Take it, he said, waving the cash toward her. You earned it.

She looked at him, looked at the money in his hand.

You don't have to do anything, he said. It's yours.

She reached out, took the money.

Joe folded the rest of the bills in half and stuffed them into his shirt pocket. He chuckled and said, That was some show back there—you and Donnell.

She blew cigarette smoke through her nose and laughed. Looked out the window.

Funny? he said.

She put the cigarette in her mouth. Folding the money in half, she lifted her bottom off the seat, and then slipped the folded bills into her front jean pocket.

I watched you swallow it, Joe said. He watched her to see how she'd react to this kind of language. You let him finish in your mouth.

She turned her head from him, looking out the window.

Joe flicked his cigarette out the window, then put his hand on her knee. Nothing to be ashamed of, honey. You're a good-looking girl. Her knee felt bony and delicate under the tight denim. Slim hips, he said, his voice low. Dark skin.

He leaned toward her, moving his hand across the back of her seat. He put his upper body in her personal space, his other hand on her knee.

Tight little body, he whispered. Like an athlete. A model, a movie star.

She turned her head and Joe could see a hesitant little half-smile. She enjoyed this praise for her body, but she kept her head mostly averted, her body very still. She wanted to play it coy.

Nothing wrong with a little sex. Joe moved his hand to her thigh. A girl your age.

Joe glanced out the windows and into the mirrors to make sure they were still alone. A light rain started to fall. Raindrops tapped on the roof of the car. He put his hand on her crotch, and she squirmed in her seat. His fingers played across the intersection of thick seams and she drew in her breath. She was warm down there, maybe even a little damp.

Joe drew his hand back, then stroked his knuckles across her hip, the bare part of her waist where her blouse had drawn up.

How'd it taste? he whispered.

She looked at him sharply, her lips parted. Her eyes were hooded with lust and maybe even a little fear. Brushing his hand across her chest, he could just make out her nipples with his thumb. She burrowed further down into the seat, opening her legs. Joe put his hand on her pussy and stroked her. It was moist. She moved her hips forward to meet his hand and then he drew it away again. From somewhere down in her throat, she made a soft needy sound, a half-whimper.

Joe checked all the windows and the mirrors again. They were fogging up.

She remained splayed out on the seat. Didn't move. Joe put his hand back on her thigh, and she looked up at him hungrily.

How'd it taste? he asked again, keeping his voice even.

She bit her lip, that needy look in her eye. Her cigarette had burned untouched in her hand and she flicked the long ash out the window, then changed her mind and tossed it all away. She gave him that same look of resignation she'd given him in the garage. His fingers traced lazy circles on the inside of her thigh.

Bitter, she said. Hot. Taking his hand, she guided it between her legs. I liked it. Her voice was a throaty whisper.

He smiled. She liked it, he repeated, delighted.

He cupped her whole crotch with his hand, slipping all four fingers between her legs. She raised her bottom to meet his palm, falling into a gentle rocking motion. He squeezed her cunt.

Is that why your parents sent you to live with your aunt? She placed her palms flat on the seat, grinding her hips.

Because you like filling your belly with cum?

Her shoulders were back, her nipples hard little nubs in her blouse. Her mouth hung open, noisily taking in and expelling breath.

Or because he's black?

Joe stopped squeezing her pussy. He held her crotch, looking her square in the eyes.

She closed her mouth, licked her lips.

He waited for an answer.

Black, she hissed, pressing her thighs together, trapping his fingers.

Joe snorted, pulling his hand from her cunt.

Come on, she pleaded. She reached for his hand, a pained expression on her face. "Both," she said, urgency in her voice.

Both. I can't help it.

He unbuttoned her pants, lowered her fly, and then slid his fingers under the elastic waist of her panties. Her skin was warm, her hips rising and falling. He could just feel the edge of her pubic patch. She bit