The Bad Boy Next Door: Lance & Chastity

by Devon Hartford

  “I was in the garage. Sorry.”

  I’m lying left and right again, aren’t I?

  I smile to myself. It’s just white lies.

  It’s not like I’m killing anybody.

  Slow and unnoticed is the slippery slope into sin…

  ++++8++++

  CHASTITY

  “I have to go to the bathroom.” I slide past Mom.

  “You have to clean the pool.”

  “It is clean.” Doesn’t she have eyes? I threw all the leaves at Lance.

  Inside the house, I pass my room on the way to the bathroom and my phone beeps on my desk. I spin on the ball of my foot smiling from ear to ear and grab my phone before locking myself in the bathroom.

  I turn on the fan for privacy, but I’m still standing up with my shorts on. Sure enough, Lance texted me.

  Him: It’s Lance. Have you seen my dad today?

  Me: He’s here hanging with my mom.

  Him: No shit?

  Me: Yes ship.

  Him: Lolls. Ship. What time is the party again?

  Me: 8. Wear a suit.

  Him: Three piece or swim?

  Me: Swim, duh.

  Him: You gonna wear that pink bikini you were hiding under your clothes yesty?

  Me: Wouldn’t you like to know.

  Him: I can wait. But it’ll be HARD…

  Me: Dirty boy.

  Him. The more you tease me, the HARDER I’m gonna go on you when you start training.

  Blushing, I smile from ear to ear and drop my phone to my side. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. I giggle to myself.

  Me: You can go as HARD as you want.

  Him: You keep this UP and I’m COMING next door to FUCK the shit out of you.

  I type out Our parents are here but the word Our in connection with the word parents freaks me out so I delete it and text: Later.

  Him: Promise?

  I remember the box of three Lifestyle condoms that is now hidden in the bottom of my desk drawer. Something tells me I’m going to use them. Soon. My hands shake so bad I can barely type my reply: If you’re good.

  Him: What if I’m bad? Cuz that’s all I know.

  My chest flutters. I’m shivering from head to toe and my wetness is pooling in my panties. I text: I can be bad too.

  Him: Prove it.

  Me: How?

  Him: Send me video of your pussy. Because I know it’s wet right now.

  My eyes goggle and I press my phone against my chest. How does he know?

  Him: Send it.

  I can’t do that! Can I?

  Him: I’m waiting.

  My index finger quivers as I slide through my apps to the video camera.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  I nearly have a heart attack.

  “Chastity! You left the skimmer out by the side of the house!” Mom barks. “Don’t forget to put it away in the garage.”

  “Okay! I’ll do it! Can’t I poop in peace?” I’m about to have a heart attack in here.

  “Goodness. Don’t forget to clean up your language after you finish with the pool.” Her voice fades as she walks away from the bathroom door.

  Him: I knew you’d chicken out.

  Me: Oh yeah?

  I unsnap my shorts and push them and my panties to my knees. The camera is set to face me, so I watch the screen as I frame a close up of my lady parts. Here goes nothing. I thumb the record button and it glows red.

  I dip my middle finger inside myself, drawing out my wetness, sliding it around on my folds. I circle my clitoris several times. I’m snickering to myself when I thumb the stop button.

  Should I really send this?

  I should.

  But first I text: this isn’t me.

  I send the video.

  And wait.

  My heart is hammering again.

  Did he get it? Did I send it to the wrong number? Oh, geez! I double check that yes, I sent it to Lance. Why isn’t he responding? Is he grossed out? No, he doesn’t seem like the type. Is he forwarding it to his entire list of contacts with my name and address below it? No, he wouldn’t do that. Would he?

  I wait another three minutes. I’m freaking out.

  “Chastity! How long does it take you to finish?” Mom hollers.

  “Coming! I mean, almost done!” Geez. I hastily wipe myself clean and don’t even pee. I pull my shorts up and button them.

  My phone flashes on the counter. Another text.

  Him: I’m done.

  Done? My heart locks. As in, done with me? Did I gross him out? Scare him off? Oh, ship! What did I do?

  A blank message comes in from Lance with an attachment.

  It’s a video.

  Oh, no.

  Do I even want to know what’s on it? What if it’s something that’ll get me in trouble?

  Better to know now than wonder all day.

  I play it.

  A close up of a big hand stroking an engorged penis. It might be Lance’s, but it might not. It was dark in my room last night so I didn’t get that good a look at his.

  Grunting from the video.

  The penis swells, the head red.

  A pearlescent bead builds at the tip.

  “Fuck yeah,” from the tiny phone speakers.

  I mute the audio in a panicked frenzy.

  Semen shoots from the penis.

  Lots of it. Rope after rope sticks to rippled abs.

  Okay, those abs have to be Lance’s.

  The camera turns up to show his face, a sleepy grin from ear to ear. He starts talking. I can’t read lips.

  I back up the video and turn the volume up to minimum and cup my hand around the speaker and hold it to my ear as I replay the end of the video.

  “That was me,” video Lance says, “thinking all about you and what I’m going to do to you tonight when I tear your bikini off. But this time my cum will end up inside you. Every. Hot. Sticky. Drop.”

  Guilt.

  I mean, gulp.

  “Chastity!!” Mom hollers.

  “Coming!” Or close to it. Because my lips are actually quivering.

  Yes, those lips.

  Wow.

  Chapter 7

  CHASTITY

  “This scene is putting me to sleep,” Lark says at my pool party that night.

  The two of us stand off to the side in my backyard. Paper lanterns hang above the sedate crowd of guests standing around the folding tables with the appetizers. Calling this a pool party is completely misleading. It’s more like a pool gathering of my frumpy friends from church and the few approved heathens from high school Mom allows at the house. Nobody is wearing their swimsuits except Charity. They’re just standing around talking politely on the patio like this is post-Bible study tea and cookies.

  Lark mutters, “Do you want me to spike the punch?”

  “Good luck with that,” I smirk. “Mom is hovering around the punch bowl like a hawk.”

  “I have my ways,” Lark winks deviously.

  “Yeah, but did you bring any booze?”

  “Sadly, no. I figured your mom would frisk me at the door.”

  “Some help you are,” I chuckle and sip the sparkling cranberry cocktail punch Mom made for the party. Not only does Mom not allow alcohol at my party, we don’t even have regular soda or anything with caffeine. Just her fizzy juice concoctions. When Mom was making the punch earlier, I jokingly asked her if drinking sparkling water was a sin. Her response was, “No, but disrespecting your elders is.”

  The only thing remotely close to a party vibe in this place is Lark. Her shoulder-length wavy blonde ombre hair is as unruly as her outfit. Her cleavage revealing knit camisole and pink short shorts drew a double-take from Mom when she arrived. I’m surprised Mom didn’t send her home to change. Lark is my only certifiably cool friend. The only reason Mom lets her come to the house anymore is because I’ve known her since pre-school.

  Meanwhile, I’m literally wearing one of my church dresses. Mom insisted on i
t at the last minute and I didn’t want to start a fight with her right before my party. She probably strategized that maneuver well in advance. Not that I have any outfits as racy as Lark’s. Instead, I look like the kind of girl who marries a guy like Ned Flanders from the Simpsons. Mom would love that.

  Okely Dokely!

  I cringe.

  I’d rather be a nun.

  Lark says, “Maybe I should go home and get my Twister game. That might loosen up all your stiff friends.”

  “Are you kidding? Do you think my mom would let kids play a game that required everyone to get tangled up like that? We may as well ask Mom if we can have an orgy.”

  “Good point. How about Simon Says? Faith would totally let us play that, right? Or maybe Duck-duck-goose?”

  I give her a smirk.

  “Musical chairs? Freeze tag?”

  “Shut up,” I laugh, hating the fact that her suggestions are right on the money. I heave a sigh, nearly drowning in despair as I watch my hopes for an exciting and memorable eighteenth birthday go down like a sinking ship. Sadly, Lance never showed up. Or texted.

  “What’s all this racket?!” A baritone voice booms from the side of the house, startling everyone. All heads turn. The side gate clatters shut and the mystery voice continues, “If you people don’t put a lid on all this noise, I’m gonna call the cops.”

  “Lance!” I blurt as he walks around the shadowy corner of the house.

  He grins huge and walks over to me and Lark. “What up, ladies.”

  Without thinking, I throw my arms around his neck and hug him. A second later, I feel my mom burning a hole in my back with a judgmental stare, so I release him.

  “Is this him?” Lark says bluntly.

  Lance laughs. “Yeah, it’s him. The man himself.”

  I giggle, “Lark, this is Lance. My new neighbor I was telling you about earlier.”

  “I thought you said he was a dork,” Lark laughs.

  “I did not!”

  Lance chuckles, “She probably meant my dad.”

  “In that case,” Lark’s eyes glimmer at Lance, “howdy, neighbor,” she purrs.

  A flare of jealousy lights up my chest. I want to hiss, He’s not your neighbor. He’s mine. So hands off! I take a deep breath and remind myself Lark is always flirty like this and she would never try to steal my boyfriend, or whatever Lance is. Is he my anything? I don’t know. I can’t think straight because keeping my claws under control takes all my focus.

  Lance grins his devilish grin and takes a long look at Lark. Perhaps too long.

  She grins sensually.

  Claws. I mean, focus.

  He says, “What up, Lark the Spark?”

  Lark coos, “Lark the spark. I like that. Nobody has ever called me that before.”

  She’s telling the truth, as far as I know.

  “No way,” Lance says.

  “Way,” Lark chuckles confidently like they’ve been friends forever. She has no fear when it comes to hot guys.

  Claws! Focus!

  Lance runs his eyes up and down every inch of Lark’s exposed skin. “Your friends must not know you very well, Lark. I picked up on your vibe the second I saw you.”

  “Really?” Lark flirts seductively.

  Claws, claws, claws!

  I huff, “Hey, Sparky. Do you two need a room?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be jelly, Chaz. I’m just window shopping.”

  “Who the fuck nicknamed you Chaz anyway?” Lance blurts. “It sounds like a dude’s name.”

  “You think Chastity sounds better?” I challenge.

  Lark asks, “Didn’t you nickname her, Lance?”

  “Nope.”

  Lark grins at me, “No wonder she’s jelly.”

  “I am not jealous. Sparky.”

  clawsclawsclaws

  She rolls her eyes. “Uh huh. Give her a nickname, Lance. She won’t chillax until you do.”

  Lance eyes me up and down. “How about Pink?”

  I say, “Like the singer?”

  “No fucking way. I hate that chick’s butch hair cut. This is more my style.” He runs his fingers through my long curly hair.

  “Stop,” I say bashfully. Not because I want him to but because Mom is around here somewhere and I don’t want her seeing.

  “You like it,” Lance chuckles.

  I pull my hair away and he lowers his arm. I ask him, “So… why Pink?”

  “You really wanna know?” The look in his eyes says maybe I don’t want to know here in front of Lark and the rest of the pool gathering.

  “I do,” Lark blurts.

  Lance’s slow grin spreads and he drills me with his hot gaze. “Ever since I saw you bent over your car flashing me your pink bikini and carrying that pink cake box, all I can think about is your pink pussy and how sweet it’s going to taste.”

  I’m blushing and speechless.

  “Oh. My. Fuck!” Lark laughs, her mouth agape. “Jesus, Chaz! This guy may be too much for you to handle.”

  I should be thinking claws, claws, claws! But they melted with the rest of me a second ago.

  “That’s for damn sure,” Lance says. “But I’m gonna fuck her anyway.”

  Melt, melt, melt…

  And… drip.

  Lark is literally fanning her face. “Stud alert!” She laughs.

  Mom glares at me from across the pool. That breaks the spell.

  I hiss, “Can you guys not talk like this when my Mom is right there?”

  “Sure,” Lance grins. “But I’m still gonna fuck you. Tonight.” He smiles at Lark, “It’s her eighteenth. Every girl wants to get fucked by a hot guy on her eighteenth. Am I right?”

  Lark is shaking her head, wide eyed and marveling at Lance. “You are the cockiest sonuvabitch I’ve ever met.”

  “And you haven’t even seen my cock,” he winks.

  “I hear it’s substantial,” Lark giggles.

  “Lark!” I hiss.

  Lance grins. “You told her, didn’t you?”

  “No! I…”

  “You told her. It’s cool. Chicks always gossip about my dick.”

  Now my mouth is agape. “Are you for real?”

  “Last night I was.”

  I laugh guiltily.

  Lance just smiles.

  Lark breaks into belly laughs.

  Mom glares.

  Apparently, my pool party is already running off the rails Mom laid down for it and it’s quickly heading in the direction Lance planned.

  And we all know where that is.

  Sex Town.

  Admission: one V ticket.

  Does Lance always get his way?

  I guess I’m about to find out.

  ++++8++++

  CHASTITY

  “You guys have anything to drink?” Lance asks.

  “There’s no booze,” Lark rolls her eyes.

  “That’s cool. I’ll take whatever.”

  I lead Lance over to the crowded food tables.

  The church girls surround him. Lance is literally the finest fox in this uptight henhouse, so it’s no surprise they drool over him. He looks deliciously dashing under the light of the paper lanterns. Mom gives Lance a minimally polite hello before ignoring him. But she makes sure to glare at him whenever his back is turned. She is so transparent. The few guys here don’t know what to make of him. He’s older than all of them. I think they’re scared of his tattoos and muscles. But Lance is charming everybody. He’s laid back and funny. Based on how he’s acting, you’d think he had known everyone here for years.

  Lance is the shining star lighting up my party.

  After a while, he squeezes out of the henhouse and says to me, “Hey, Chastity, this may sound weird, but have you seen my dad around? He isn’t at the house.”

  “Funny you should ask,” I say. “He’s still here.”

  “No shit?” Lance chuckles.

  “Wait,” Lark says, “that guy is Lance’s dad?”

  Mr. McKnight sits i
n the farthest corner of the yard on the prayer bench Mom built years ago. The bench is partially screened off by hedges. Mr. McKnight is in shadow, backlit by the low garden lights. He sips from his AriZona Iced Tea bottle, which I’m noticing he carries everywhere. He wears clean jeans and a brand new Harley-Davidson T-shirt with a metallic eagle on the front. A definite step up from his wife-beater. His hair is freshly washed and naturally rakish, like Lance’s. In the dim light, he could be Lance’s older brother.

  “That’s him,” Lance sighs, disappointed.

  Mr. McKnight notices us watching him and raises his AriZona bottle in a toast.

  “You should go say hello,” I encourage.

  Lance’s jaw muscles dance for a moment as he stares at his dad. “Later,” he says with a tinge of agitation.

  That’s weird.

  “Wow, Chaz,” Lark says, “since you get Lance, do you mind if I take his dad?”

  Lance grimaces.

  So do I. “Um, I think my mom has already laid claim.”

  Lark’s eyes pop. “I thought she was acting a little chummy with him. That is disturbing!”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “When are you guys gonna double date?” Lark jokes.

  Lance and I both recoil in horror.

  Lark snorts, “Easy guys. It’s just talk. It’s not like your parents are gonna marry and make you two—”

  “Stop!” I shout.

  All conversation goes quiet and everyone turns to look at me.

  “Sorry!” I wince. “Carry on! Lots of food and drink! Eat to your heart’s content!” Everyone is still staring. “The pool is empty if you’d like to go for a swim!”

  More Staring.

  “Chastity,” Mom says, “Is something wrong?”

  “Nope! Everything is right! Go back to the party! Chatter chatter chatter!”

  Slowly, people go back to what they were doing.

  Lark is grinning.

  “Geez, Lark,” I hiss. “Change of subject, please.”

  “Okay. How about we light this party up? It’s way too boring for your eighteenth.”

  “That’s right,” Lance grins at her. “Your lying friend Pink told me she was already eighteen when I met her yesterday.”

  “What?!” Lark gasps. “You did? No way! You’re going straight to hell, Chaz. Lance, you better watch out with this one. She’ll take you there with her.”