My new neighbor is an online sex advice vlogger — but she doesn’t know that I know

Out of curiosity, I checked out her videos. Who wouldn’t?

I didn’t count on being tempted by her sexy voice or her full lips.

Too bad she’s off limits.

Being a single dad isn’t easy, and I have rules — no relationships and no f*cking anyone my daughter knows.

But when I become the subject of her posts, I can’t keep my hands off her any longer.

I have to teach her everything she got wrong in her videos.

*** A steamy STANDALONE contemporary romance with a smoking hot hero. No cliffhanger, no cheating, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.***

Knox

The thing I like most about the Ford Thunderbird is the way a chick’s hips fit perfectly onto the curve of the hood. It’s my favorite car to bend a woman over on.

This time it’s a blonde. She’s face down on the hood of my ’62 Thunderbird. Whatever her name is.

Her denim skirt is scrunched up around her waist, and I step back to survey her naked ass in the streetlight.

“Please,” she breathes.

Without waiting any longer, I free my cock from my jeans, pull the condom out of my back pocket and slide it onto my shaft. I press the tip against her entrance and ram into her.

If there’s one thing a classic car ride does, it’s make women horny. And I’m always happy to pick the best looking of them and bend them over my car.

Tonight is no different.

It’s my chance to play.

I keep pounding into her, my cock getting harder and harder with each thrust. She screams, and goes limp onto the hood as an orgasm rips through her. My balls draw tight against me, and my load shoots out of me with such force I’m surprised the condom is strong enough to contain it.

After a couple of breaths, I pull out of her and tie off the condom.

The blonde doesn’t move.

“Get off my hood. I need to go home.”

She turns herself around, resting her bare cheeks on the hood and looks at me, her eyes wide.

“Will you be here next week?” she asks.

“Don’t know.” I shrug.

Not if she’s going to be looking for me. I won’t do the same woman twice in a month. It’s my rule to make sure none of them get the idea of wanting a relationship. I don’t do relationships, it’s my biggest rule.

I have to come to these classic car rides for my business. Without them, I’d make a fraction of what I make now. But I make time for a quick, hard fuck before I go home and have to be responsible.

It’s the only thing I’ve ever allowed myself. The rest of my life is all about her.

Avery

One month later…

“No honking. Boobs are not the horn on an old-fashioned car,” I say, wagging my finger at the webcam.

“If you honk them, your woman will not make the noise you want to hear. You want to make her moan and whimper, not say ah-ooo-ga.”

I yammer on another few minutes about how not to play with breasts, never demonstrating with mine or doing anything to sexualize myself. I’m teaching men how to please women, not titillate them.

The idea is to help people improve their sex lives, at least that’s how it started. Now the goal is to make a living doing it. It’s taken years, but now I have just over two million YouTube subscribers. It finally earns me enough that I’ve been able to buy a house.

Sure, I had to move out of Cincinnati to a small town to be able to afford one, but it’s all mine. I bought it all by myself, without any help from anyone.

“Okay, guys, before I go, I want to give you a tour of my new bedroom.”

It’s not really my bedroom, it’s my spare room done up as ‘my bedroom’ to better connect with my viewers.

“Here’s my bed. This is my desk where I get all my work done, under this nice, big window. Check out my view,” I say and point the webcam outside.

I glance out the window. A man appears in the backyard beside mine. My house is the last on a dead-end street, and his is the only house beside mine, the other side and back of my property borders a park.

I haven’t met my neighbor yet, and I pause to look at him. I guess he’s mid to late thirties with short dark hair and relatively tall. And cute. More than cute, from this distance. I wonder what he’s like up close.

He’s wearing an unzipped gray hoodie with jeans. His jeans look like they’re hiding some sculpted leg muscles, and I’d like to know what the hoodie’s hiding.

He glances up and his eyes zero in on my webcam. His lip snarls and he shakes his head before he turns and walks out of the view of my lens.

It’s already late afternoon and I’m behind on my video. Normally I post one video a day. At least that’s the goal. I do a mix of sex tips, relationship tips, responding to viewers’ questions and product reviews. Product reviews is my real money maker, so I do at least two of those a week.

Companies send me products, and I review them. Not so much review, more display them. Once the monthly viewer numbers of the video are in, they send me a fat check.

Between planning, shooting and editing the videos plus writing a blog to go with them and all the social media promotion, I don’t seem to stop working. Ever.

But I’ve been unpacking and trying to set up my house so I’m a little behind. I always keep a two- to three-week stockpile of videos, but the move has dwindled that down to one week.

After another hour of editing, adding my trademark swirls and flourishes onto the screen, it’s time to switch tasks. I make a quick chicken caesar salad, and sit down at my computer to play on social media.

It’s my favorite part of what I do. Sure there are some ugly trolls who have nothing nice to say, but most people are super fun to interact with. I’ve ‘met’ people from all over the country and world, and have improved thousands of people’s sex lives. I love what I do.

While I chew, I look over at my to-be-reviewed pile. Next up is a feather, which I’m tying in with the boob video. It promises not to lose its shape or break. We’ll see. Also on the pile are all sorts of vibrators and sex toys, lingerie and less direct sex items like books. There are even services like flower delivery. It’s a bit of everything, really.

They always send two of everything, one for me to try out and one to film. Except I don’t have anyone to try them out with anymore.

At least I have a stack of vibrators.

My doorbell rings, snapping me out of a conversation on Facebook about the pros and cons of quickie sex. I review so many products that I’m used to deliveries at all hours.

Leaving my empty salad plate in my fake bedroom-office, I skip down the stairs and open the door.

A child smiles up at me. She’s not a child-child. Middle-school age, I’d guess. Her shirt says ‘Red Hot Chili Peppers,’ and I immediately know she’s cool. She’s slim, with long mousy brown hair and a sparkle in her incredibly dark eyes. Her nose is peppered with freckles.

“Hi, I’m Piper. Your new neighbor.” She speaks with more confidence than ninety-nine percent of adults I’ve met.

“Well, hello Piper. I’m Avery.”

“I saw your light on and wanted to introduce myself.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I haven’t met your parents yet.”

“I know.”

“Where’s your mom?”

Piper shrugs, “Africa.”

“Oh. Where’s your dad?”

“Out.”

“Just out?”

“Yeah.” Piper pushes past me and beelines straight to my brand new navy sofa and drops her notebook on the coffee table. “So, I need help with my homework. Do you know how to find the positions of shapes on a graph?”

“Uh, not really,” I say, still gripping my door handle.

Piper completely ignores me, her face staring intently at her notebook. Confused and resigned, I close the door and sit on the leather armchair that I’ve had since my first apartment. It’s one of the few things I took after breaking up with Nathan.

“Doesn’t your dad help you with your homework?” I lean forward, in a non-threatening way.

“He does if I ask, but I forgot about it and it’s due tomorrow.” Piper looks at me as she answers, as if she needs to speak slowly to me so I understand.

“You should write stuff in a calendar,” I say.

She rolls her eyes to the ceiling and says, “That would only work if I remembered to look at it.”

That sounded like something my sixty-year-old mother would say.

“How old are you?”

“Thirteen. Is this twenty questions or something?”

“We did just meet, and now you’re sitting here demanding I do geometry.”

“Exactly, let’s get cracking. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish. Here’s the worksheet.”

Piper passes me a single piece of paper. Thank God it’s only one sheet. Of math problems. Part of me wonders if this surreal situation is really happening. I’m sitting here with a thirteen-year-old who just barged into my house and demanded I do math homework. And I didn’t kick her out.

She’s simply too charming.

My iPad is on the end table, but I don’t want to use it to help us work out the questions in front of her in case something inappropriate comes up on the screen. This child must never, ever find out who I am or what I do for a living.

“What do you have to do?” I ask while scanning the questions for some sort of clue.

“What’s your wifi password? I’ll Google it on my phone,” she says. Demands, really. I obey and give her the password.

We work together on the task. Once we figure out the first couple, the rest of the questions don’t take long.

With the last question answered, Piper sets her pencil on the table and says, “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I can’t help but laugh.

“I guess not,” I say, and it comes out as more of an encouragement than I’d intended.

“Let’s watch TV. Do you have Netflix?”

“Obviously,” I say, and immediately wonder why I’m so defensive.

“Are you married?”

“What happened to Netflix?”

“Just asking. But I’ll take that as a no. Do you have a boyfriend or are you single?”

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you?”

“I already told you I’m thirteen, right? Do many people my age have boyfriends?”

“Oh, right.”

“Do many people in eighth grade have boyfriends?”

I was hoping she’d forget she asked me.

“I have no idea.” I don’t, actually.

“Figures,” she says, tilting her head, and I want to tell her who I am and what I do. I wouldn’t, of course, she’s too young. Even though she seems more grown up than I am.

“When I was in middle school, none of my friends had boyfriends. Or if they did, they were friends who happened to be boys.”

“But that was a long, long time ago.”

“I’m not old, I’ll have you know. I’m only thirty one.”

“That means you were thirteen years old eighteen years ago. Eighteen years. That’s almost twice as long as I’ve been alive!”

I fall silent. It doesn’t seem like eighteen years ago. Is eighteen years a lot of time or not? How different are kids now, or aren’t they?

“Would you rather have one thousand dollars or save a random one thousand people in World War II?” Piper suddenly asks.

I shake off my contemplation about how quickly time flies and focus on her new, random question.

“The people. One thousand people are worth a lot more than a thousand dollars.”

“But you can’t pick which people, so you might be saving Hitler and his friends. You just don’t know,” she says, her palms facing up.

“Oh,” I say, and reconsider the question.

“I said the money, because you can take the money and help people with it.”

“I’m not sure a thousand bucks is going to go very far.”

“But if World War II just ended, then it would be a lot of money.”

There’s no way I’m winning this argument. I smile and say, “Yes, you’re right. If World War II just ended, I’d take the money.”

Piper looks satisfied with my answer. Maybe because she’s made me agree with her.

Someone pounds on my front door. The doorbell would’ve been sufficient. I glance at the clock, it’s just past seven thirty.

“That’s my dad,” Piper says and scrambles to her feet.

Piper and I make it to the door at the same time. My hand reaches the doorknob first, but hers lands on top of mine and she doesn’t take it away.

We open the door, and the man I saw earlier in his backyard stands on my front step, a scowl ruining his otherwise gorgeous face.

He has the same deep dark eyes as Piper, the light catches them and sparkles off them in the same way. His jawline is as strong as his arms, and he’s got a day’s worth of stubble.

I smile, extend my hand and say, “Hi, I’m Avery, your new next door neighbor.”

He grunts at me and grabs Piper’s hand. Nice. She clearly doesn’t get her social skills from him.

“It was lovely spending time with you, Avery. We’ll have to do it again sometime,” Piper says. I swear she’s fifty. No, seventy.

“Anytime,” I say, waving at her.

Knox

“Oh my God, Dad. Dad, she’s so cool. Her name is Avery and she just moved here from Cincinnati.”

“You’re not supposed to leave the house when I go out.”

I’m around for Piper as much as I can, I even built a fully functioning garage in my yard and moved a lot of my tools here so I can work from home and be here when she gets home from school. But on one or two evenings a week, I have to go out. Not that Piper cares. She’s more grown up than most adults I know.

“I needed help with my homework.”

“No, you didn’t. Don’t lie.” The kid breezes through school, her biggest complaint is how boring it is.

“Fine. I wanted to meet our new neighbor. Besides I texted you where I was. You’re so anti-social. You should’ve gone over and welcomed her to the neighborhood by now.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I say, but can’t help smiling. If there’s one person in the world who can make me smile, it’s Piper. She’s the only person who can make me smile. It makes everything I do for her worthwhile.

“Oh my God, Dad…”

“Stop saying, ‘oh my God,’” I say as I open our front door.

We sit in our living room, on the denim couch Piper picked out. Piper talks and talks, relaying everything about her evening, but that’s nothing new. The kid talks non-stop. But right now there’s one thing I can’t get one thing out of my head.

My new neighbor is definitely the YouTube video woman my buddy Marcus showed me earlier tonight. The one who talks about sex, and how a man is supposed to please a woman.

Marcus said she’s the most famous person who has ever lived in town.

I’d never heard of her.

Maybe Marcus needs to look on the internet for sex tips, but I sure as hell don’t.

It explains why I noticed a webcam pointing at me out of her upstairs window earlier. She’d damn well better not plan on using me in one of her videos.

“Dad? Dad!” Piper shouts, drawing my attention.

“Yeah?” I start listening to her again.

“Avery’s so awesome, we should totally have her over for dinner.”

“I’m not sure about that. I don’t even think you should be going over there.”

Do I want my thirteen year old hanging out with a woman who posts videos about sex online?

“What? Why? She’s so much cooler than Mrs. Coupland.”

“Of course you’d say that.”

Mrs. Coupland was our old neighbor. An eighty-year-old widow who happily watched Piper for me when I had to work in the evenings. When her daughter convinced Mrs. Coupland to move in with her, and they sold the house to Miss I-know-everything-about-sex, I lost my free babysitter. At least the move happened near the end of eighth grade.

“She’s really pretty, you know,” Piper says.

I noticed. “So what?”

She shrugs, “Nothing.”

“Want to watch Law & Order?” It’s her favorite show. I’ve come to hate it less since she started making me watch it.

“Yes, but can we watch the original?”

We watch one episode, and Piper yells and talks to the screen through the whole thing. She wants to be a lawyer when she grows up. Which should be a good job for her, given how much she likes to argue.

“Okay, bedtime, kid. Go brush your teeth.”

“Night, Dad. I love you,” she says as she bounds up the stairs.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

Piper doesn’t want me to read her a bedtime story and tuck her in anymore. She says she’s too old for that. It seems like my little girl is gone. And I’m supposed to be okay with that.

When she’s upstairs in bed, I clean the kitchen. Our supper mess was left because I had to go out. I rinse and load the dishes, and put the rest of the stew in the fridge for tomorrow.

I made the stew from scratch. I make as much from scratch as I can, always one-pot wonders because it’s all I have time for or know to do, plus they last for three meals. Chuck shit in a pot, put in a different type of flavoring and let it simmer. Though, in the summer I barbeque Piper and I nice steaks.

Exhausted, I lie on the couch and stretch out my legs. I flick through the channels for a while, before giving up on finding anything to watch and settling on some movie that’s halfway through. It had a car chase with shit blowing up when I flicked past, and that was good enough for me.

A ’71 Dodge Charger rips onto the screen in another car chase and makes me think of work. Marcus just bought one online for us to restore, I haven’t seen it yet and hope there isn’t too much wrong with the interior. He promised there isn’t, but I don’t trust the fucker.

Normally I vet all the purchases, but sometimes with Piper, I don’t get the chance. When you buy things at auction you have to be able to move fast.

Marcus does all the bodywork and I rebuild the engines. Though we’re both skilled enough to do both jobs. We buy classic cars online, fix them up and flip them for a tidy profit.

It works for me because it’s on my own time, and I’m able to rebuild an entire engine in my garage at home so I can be here with Piper. I even get her to help me. Not many kids her age know what a carburetor is, let alone how to repair one.

Marcus swore this Charger is solid, but last time he bought a car without me, the entire inside looked like it’d been lived in by a family of racoons for years.

Fucking Marcus.

The man who apparently needs sex tips.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I grab my iPad. It doesn’t take me long to find her YouTube videos, which she’s called Getting Avery’s Girls off. Give me a fucking break.

I click on one titled How to Eat Her Out in the Shower. I half expect her to be naked in the shower and demonstrating, but she’s fully dressed in what looks like a bedroom.

Avery’s dark flowing hair and makeup are perfect. She must be one of these annoying women who take forever to get ready. Though there’s no denying she’s easy on the eyes. And her voice. She might be fully clothed in her videos, but her voice is rich and expressive enough that it’s pure sex.

She’s confident and radiant as she speaks about how to get between a chick’s legs without making her slip. At least she had the sense to say the guy needs to be strong enough to hold her up.

I sure as hell don’t know any women who’d be able to stand after I got through with them. There’s no way they wouldn’t fall down in the shower. And it’d be a long time before they could stand up and walk out of it.

Watching a few more videos, I’m mesmerized by my new neighbor. I go through An Intro to Clits, Clamping Nipples, and Pulling Her Hair before I realize I’m getting hard.

There’s no way I’m even going there.

Not with my next door neighbor. I keep my fuck toys and my real life far apart. And I definitely won’t do anything with anyone Piper knows.

When I became a single father at twenty two, I swore I wouldn’t date women, only fuck them, until Piper was all grown up.

I close the app, and put the news on TV.

Avery

I’m sitting at my desk in my fake bedroom, getting my thoughts together on what I’m going to say about the video I’m about to shoot.

Today, I’m pimping a product, massage oil. It’s a tossup for what type of products I do most, massage oil or vibrators. This one is simply called Love Massage and comes with an instruction pamphlet on how to give a back rub.

The company sent me two samples, as always. One to try out and one to pimp.

Nathan, my ex-boyfriend, would’ve loved this. He always loved getting – though not giving – massages.

Oh well, fuck him.

My best friend Darla’s photo pops up on my screen. She’s also a YouTuber. We each started vlogging at the same time, on a whim and a dare.

I hit accept and FaceTime opens. Darla’s crazy curls fill my monitor, her face a pale dot in the sea of red hair.

“Hey, how’s it going?” I say.

“Same old. Please tell me you’ve left your house and met someone.”

Darla can always be counted on to dive straight to whatever’s on her mind.

“Nice to talk to you too.”

“Whatever, lady, don’t try to avoid the subject. It wouldn’t have to bring it up if you’d answer the questions in my texts.”

“I’ve found a yoga class,” I insist. I haven’t yet, but I will.

“Great. When do you start?”

I know she’s only worried about me meeting people in my new town.

“I haven’t had time yet, I have to get my house organized, then I’ll start.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me.”

“A valid one.”

“Fine. But don’t think I’m dropping this,” Darla says, pointing at her webcam for effect.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re only an hour away, come visit if you’re so worried I’m a Lonely Loretta.”

“I am. Not this weekend, but next weekend I’m coming to see you. Don’t say you’re busy, Avery, or you have plans, because I know you don’t.”

My mood lifts a bit and an easy smile spreads across my face. “Good. Come, definitely. And bring a paintbrush. I need to get rid of the dusty rose in my bedroom.” I put all my effort into my fake bedroom. My real bedroom still looks like it belongs to a little old lady.

“Sure, I can paint. How hard can it be? I’ll bring vodka too. We can get drunk and bitch about Nathan.”

“I’m over Nathan.”

“I know, but he just got engaged.”

My face drops, the smile vanishes. “But I only moved out six months ago.”

“Obviously it’s a rebound relationship. She’ll figure out how pathetic he is.”

We talk more, and after five minutes she has me laughing again even though my heart is still heavy with the news of Nathan getting married.

This sucks.

My entire life is talking about sex. But I haven’t had any in over six months.

I thought buying my own house would motivate me, but all I can think of is making the mortgage payments.

My heart just isn’t in this anymore.

Not that that matters. I now make too much money from this venture to walk away from it. It’s taken me several years to build my following, I would never throw it away. It just means I have to get better at faking it.

I can fake it. I am a woman, after all.

It’s just my videos seem more and more like lip service, and less and less like something I believe in.

The massage oil video and editing takes a couple of hours. I spend the rest of the day working through my task list.

Around seven, my doorbell rings. I take my time walking down the stairs and opening the door. Piper stands, grinning wide, on my doorstep.

“Hi, Avery. Mind if I come in?” she asks, and pushes her way past me before I can answer.

“Hey, Piper. Need more help with your homework?”

My heart leaps a little, I probably shouldn’t be this excited at the prospect of hanging out with a teenager, but she’s the first person I’ve seen in person all week. FaceTiming people just isn’t the same.

Darla’s right, I really need to make an effort to start meeting people in this town.

The challenge won’t be in meeting people, it will be in making sure no one in this town ever, ever, ever finds out what I do. I’ve created an entire cover story of writing a novel to tell people when they ask. A crime novel with lots of deaths – something as far from sex as I can think of.

“Nope, I just thought you could use some company.”

My brow narrows as I try to figure this kid out. “Was your dad angry you were here last week?”

“No, he knew where I was. He just had a hard day at work.”

“Do you want a drink?”

“Just water, please. I only drink water, it’s cleansing.”

“Right. Of course.”

I take the few steps to my kitchen at the back of the house. It looks like it was last renovated in the seventies, and has great features like grim-coated dark wood cupboards and a gold fleck counter.

As soon as I get some more cash, I’m having it ripped out and replaced with oak cupboards and granite. There, next time I need motivation, I should just come down here.

Returning to the living room, I set one of the glasses of water down in front of Piper and hold the other glass in my hand.

She’s taken the same spot on the couch again, so I sit in my armchair.

It’s been a week since Piper was last here. I’ve been busy settling in and getting myself organized. The only place I’ve been is the grocery store so I haven’t checked the town out much or met anyone else.

Piper’s dad keeps a low profile, and the only time I see him is when I spot him in his backyard from my fake bedroom window.

Though I’m not even sure I can be bothered to meet him, he was so rude that night. Figures I’d end up with some dick neighbor. At least the kid is cool.

“Avery, did you know almonds are poisonous? In some countries, you can’t buy more than ten pounds of almonds at once, because if you ate it all, you would die. It’s one of the most poisonous poisons,” she says.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

I make a mental note to Google that later.

“Do you ever see your mom?”

“Never even met her. It’s just been me and my dad my entire life.”

He’s never had any long-term girlfriends? I find that hard to believe, given how gorgeous he is. Although it serves him right, since he grunts instead of talking.

“Would you rather eat ten pounds of almonds or drink a cup of water from the toilet?”

“Definitely the almonds.”

“But you might die.”

“I think I’d puke before I got to that stage.”

Piper comes out with all sorts of random facts, most of which I’m unsure whether to believe.

She picks up her glass, downs the rest of the liquid and sets it back down on the table. Wiping her mouth with her arm, she looks at me and says, “Can you help me buy a bra? I don’t know how to pick the right size, and neither does my dad.”

I’m taken aback and speechless for a moment.

“Sure, of course,” I say.

How could I say no?

“Can we go to Target on Saturday?”

“Absolutely. As long as it’s okay with your father.”

I change the subject, and we talk about other things. The doorbell rings just after seven.

Piper leaps up and says, “That’s my dad.”

At least the doorbell is an improvement over banging on the door.

I get off my old leather chair and follow Piper to the door. She flings it open, and her father stands on the doorstep. He’s wearing a tight, black T-shirt that molds to the form of his muscular body. I try not to stare, but he also has a number of tattoos poking out of the sleeves.

“Good evening,” I say, forcing my eyes to stay above his neck.

“Sorry my daughter keeps bothering you,” he says with a scowl. It’s an improvement over grunting.

“Dad,” Piper protests.

“It’s no problem, honestly. It’s nice to get to know my new neighbors,” I say, smiling.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you again.”

“She doesn’t bother me,” I say, tousling her hair. “In fact, is it okay if I take her shopping on Saturday?”

He screws his face up and glancing between me and Piper. He asks, “Why?”

“She’s going to buy me a bra. Right, Avery?” Piper says.

His face drops, and he says, “I’ll think about it.”

“It’s no problem, honestly. I know men can’t figure out girl stuff. She needs someone to take her shopping.”

“I can raise my daughter just fine,” he says, snarling. Without pause, he takes her hand and pulls her towards their house.

“Hey Piper, what’s your dad’s name?” I call out as they cut across my lawn.

She looks behind her, the streetlight sparkling in her eyes and a hesitant smile on her face, “Knox.”

“Nice to meet you, Knox,” I call out.

He grunts without looking back.

Knox

I’m still pissed at the way Avery spoke to me last night.

It’s late afternoon and Piper should be home from school soon. Her friend’s mother is dropping her off this afternoon because I’m behind schedule on getting this ’71 Mustang finished for a client.

My driveway goes all the way from the road, between my house and Avery’s and ends in a well-equipped garage I had built in my backyard.

The scarlet car is half out of my garage. The hood is up and I’m bent over the running engine, listening, figuring out how to make it purr.

But I can’t get my mind off Piper. She’s turning into a young woman, and I feel in over my head more now than at any other point in raising her.

And I’ve had a lot of days of feeling in over my head.

For starters, what did a twenty-two-year old guy know about raising a baby? I figured it out. I had to.

Just like I have to figure out how to be the best parent to her now.

How the fuck do I know how to size a bra? I know how to take them off, not put them on.

But is this Avery chick the right person to take Piper bra shopping? Piper seems to like her, but the woman is all over the internet telling men how to treat a pussy.

Except she doesn’t even say pussy. She calls it a kitten in all her videos. Not that I’ve watched all of them, there are hundreds. I only watched the ones that sounded interesting. Like Dirty Talker and Spank Her Stupid.

I admit I’ve had to break down and spank myself a few times. Avery’s voice alone sends shivers down my spine. Hearing that voice and her mock dirty talk went straight to my cock.

Plus my balls are bluer than blue since I lost my babysitter and now rush home to Piper, instead of hanging around to fuck some chick after the classic car rides.

Even if the words Avery says in her videos are stupid. I don’t know who she’s been fucking, but it isn’t anyone who knows what they’re doing.

I could certainly teach her a thing or two.

Except it’s her. Thinking she can judge me about my ability to be a good parent.

Fuck her.

I’ve been killing myself for years to give Piper the best I can. Now Miss-know-it-all-about-sex waltzes in next door and immediately starts commenting on my ability to be a father.

Tells Piper she needs to take her shopping for girl shit. Because I’m not good enough.

Fuck her.

“Hey,” Avery says. I’d recognize her silky voice anywhere. What the fuck is she doing here?

I duck out from under the hood and stand to my full height. Avery’s standing there in tight jeans and a button top that doesn’t quite have enough buttons done up. A can of beer is in each of her hands.

“Want one?” she says, holding a beer out to me.

“What do you want?” I say, ignoring the beer.

“We’re new neighbors, and haven’t met properly. I thought I’d come over and formally introduce myself,” she says, still holding up the beer.

“We’ve met twice, remember?”

“I don’t know if those really counted. After all you didn’t even tell me your name.”

“You know it, but I’ll tell you it again if you want. It’s Knox. Satisfied?”

“Well I’m just so glad I moved to this new town where I don’t know anyone, and of all the people in this world, I moved to the house beside yours.”

Goddamn it, what is her problem?

“Lucky you,” I say.

Avery huffs, and drops the hand holding the beer to her side.

“Fine. You don’t want to be a civil neighbor, whatever, but Piper has asked for me to take her shopping. She’s lacking something,” She pauses before adding, “Obviously.”

“Obviously?” I raise my eyebrows and smirk at her.

She sighs. “Can we just not talk about this? For Piper?”

I take a breath, blocking out the effect her voice is having on my cock. She’s right. As much as she annoys the hell out of me, Piper is what matters. And if she’s right and Piper was the one who asked her for the shopping trip, then I need to let it happen.

Moving around the car, I lean in and cut the engine. I stand again, and grab her eyes in mine. Holding them, I move closer to her, lean and grab the beer from her hand. Avery’s lips slightly part as she watches me open the can and take a sip.

“Okay, you want us to meet? I restore classic cars for a living. What do you do?”

I lean back against the Mustang and hold the can to my lips. This should be interesting.

“I’m a writer.”

“A writer?”

“Yeah, like an author.” She says it like I don’t even know what a book is.

“What do you write about? Smut?” She flinches when I emphasize the word smut.

“No,” she says with nervous laughter, “I write about murder-mystery stuff, you know?”

“So, no naughty parts?”

“Um, no.” Avery looks like she doesn’t know whether to be more offended, confused or outraged.

At least she isn’t going around telling people what she really does. This relaxes me. She won’t tell Piper.

“Got any pets?” I ask, stifling a smirk.

“No pets.”

“No plans to get a kitten?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.” She has no idea what I’m referring to.

“Kittens are lots of fun to play with, but get annoying once you’re done playing with them,” I say.

“I’ve never had one.” She looks at me sideways. Maybe she’s catching on.

A black Tahoe pulls across the end of my driveway and the rear door flings open.

“Avery!” Piper says, running from her friend’s SUV.

I raise my hand to thank the mother for driving her home.

“Have a good day at school?” Avery asks as Piper reaches the garage.

“Meh, it’s school.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” I say, extending my arms to hug her.

Denied.

Apparently thirteen year olds no longer like to hug their dads. Especially in front of someone else.

My heart sinks into my gut. It’s just another sign I’m losing my little girl.

“Are you guys planning our shopping trip?” Piper asks, looking between me and Avery.

“Yep,” Avery says, ignoring me. “We’re all set. The mall on Saturday.”

Acid turns in my stomach. The fucking nerve. My jaw clenches.

Piper jumps up and down and yells “Thank you, Dad!”

She bounces her way to me and flings her arms around me. I wrap my arms tight around my baby girl and swing her around the way I used to. God, this is good. I’d do anything to make Piper happy.

“Just be sensible,” I say. “Don’t make Avery stay there for hours, and don’t spend too much money.”

“Can I have extra allowance?” she asks, looking up at me.

“Of course. But you don’t have to buy your stuff from your allowance, I’ll give you other money for that.”

Piper squeals and says, “Oh my God, you’re the best dad ever.”

I set her down to rub my ear.

“Stop saying ‘oh my God,’” I say.

“I have to pee,” Piper says, and runs into the house.

Lifting the beer can to my mouth, I take a long pull, wondering what the fuck to say to Avery. Don’t interfere with my parenting. You should’ve asked me if I was okay with the shopping trip first.

Don’t hurt my baby girl.

Avery doesn’t say anything. She watches as I suck down the rest of the beer she brought me. Was it her idea of a peace offering?

The only peace offering that would work is an apology for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.

I drop the can on the garage floor and stare into her eyes.

“Guess we’re done here. I have to get back to work.”

Without waiting for her to respond, I turn and duck my head back under the hood.

“Is this a Mustang?”

Why isn’t she leaving? Is she trying to find another part of my life to stick her nose in?

I grunt.

“I’ve never been in one. But I’ve always wanted a ride in an old Mustang,” she says. It’s her smoothest, sexiest, radio dj voice.

The tool I’m holding falls from my hand and clatters against the metal of the engine and my dick springs to life.

I grunt again, needing her to leave. Now. Before I give her a ride she’ll never forget.

“That’s it?” she says. “Seriously? It’s been a pleasure talking to you. Really. We should have beers more often, neighbor.”

I clear my throat, and sink a little deeper against the car. I need to stop interacting with her.

Avery

What a jerk. I slam my front door behind me as I retreat into my house.

That didn’t go according to plan. The idea was I bring him beer and he turns out to be a really great guy who’s going to be a fabulous neighbor and help me with all sorts of things, like clearing my gutters.

How did Piper end up being so vivacious with him as her father?

It must be from being so damn hot. When he ducked out from under the hood of that car, I gulped. I, Avery Sloane, actually felt nervous.

I never feel intimidated when talking to anyone. Especially not a man.

But damn, his tight T-shirt didn’t leave any doubts about how muscular he is. And his arms were covered in some of the sexiest tattoos I’ve ever seen. All cars and car-related stuff, for once someone whose tattoos represent who they are instead of who they dream of being. He even smells like his tattoos.

When he came and took the beer from my hand, I was overcome by his delicious scent. A combination of grease, oil, sweat and him. Somehow it mixed together to send his already raw sex appeal into the stratosphere. The closer he came to me, the more heat I felt burning inside me.

What a shame.

Though it’s probably a good thing. At least now I’m not tempted by him.

After pouring the rest of my beer down the kitchen sink, I head up to my fake bedroom to get some work done.

I’ve already filmed two videos this morning. Both were part of my Ask Avery Anything series. People either email or message me questions about sex, and I answer.

Today’s questions were how to deal with bad breath and how far should you go to act out your girlfriend’s fantasies. I can get quite passionate when answering, it’s what my viewers love and expect.

Now I have to edit the videos I just shot. My cluttered desk is in front of the window, and I sit at it, facing out the window.

Outside, I can see Knox working on his car. More specifically, I can see his muscular frame moving around the car as he works on it. My fake bedroom is on the second floor, but it’s on the side of his garage and I’m actually physically close to him.

I fight the urge to open the window and yell at him.

Focus. I have to forget about having to live beside him for the next however many years and think about work. God, I hope he moves.

Maybe moving to this town was a mistake. Maybe I should’ve stayed in Cincinnati.

Depressed, I FaceTime Darla. Her red hair fills the monitor.

“Hey, babe. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” she says, exaggerating a frown.

“You know, it’s just getting set up in a new town where you don’t know anyone. I just wanted to talk to a friend, is all.”

The second I say it, I curse myself and brace for her lecture.

“Tell me you’ve gone out and met people.”

Ugh.

“Actually, as a matter of fact I’ve met my next door neighbor.”

She mock smiles in surprised approval. “Very good. What’s she like?”

“It’s a he, actually,” I say, wondering why I brought Knox into this.

“Is he hot?” Darla leans into the webcam in anticipation.

“Whoa, how do you know he’s not eighty?”

“That wasn’t the question. You can be eighty and be hot, you know. Now spill.”

“He’s a single dad, to this really cool thirteen-year-old girl.”

“So he’s single, excellent. Is he also hot?”

“You have a one-track mind,” I say, chuckling.

“Yes, now answer the question.”

“Let’s just say you won’t be disappointed when you come visit.”

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Are you sure you don’t want him for yourself?”

“No thanks, he’s actually a dick.”

“As long as he knows how to use his, he can be all the dick he wants.”

“Easy girl,” I say, giggling.

Movement outside the window catches my eye. Knox is standing, moving around the back of his car. I quickly point my laptop out the window.

“What’s that?” Darla asks.

“It’s him. Tell me when you see him,” I say, moving the laptop. I can’t see the laptop screen to know if he’s showing in view or not.

“Down more. More. Holy fuckballs, babe,” Darla says and whistles.

“And that’s from far away. You should see him up close.” I pause and add, “And smell him.”

“Damn. Why does he have to be an ass shat?”

“That’s what I keep asking myself,” I blurt.

“You should totally fuck him.”

I burst out laughing. “As if. He won’t even have a conversation with me. Not that I want to sleep with him anyway, he’s my neighbor and that would be messy. I just want to have a normal, neighborly relationship.”

“So you won’t mind if I fuck him when I come visit?”

“Good luck. Actually, probably a good idea. If you sleep with him, maybe you can convince him to be civil to me.”

“Hey, babe.”

“Yeah?”

“His face is just as good, too. He’s standing staring straight at the webcam.”

“Fucking hell! Why didn’t you say anything?” I shriek as I yank the laptop away from the window as fast as I can.

What do I do? He’s going to think I’m a weirdo. He’ll be ruder than he already is.

Oh God, what if he starts asking questions. What if he digs into me and finds out what I do?

“You okay?” she asks.

“No, I’m not okay. How am I going to explain that?”

“It’s no big deal, just tell him your friend is coming to visit and wanted to check out the goods on offer.”

“You know what, I take it back. You’re not allowed to sleep with him.”

“What? Why?”

“Because… because.”

“That isn’t an answer, but I get it. I’m leaving him for you. You’ve clearly got the horn on for him.”

“I do not.” I say, daring a glance out the window at him. “He’s eye candy, nothing more.”

I force myself to remember the rest of my time in the garage, and how he wouldn’t even have a normal, civil conversation with me, especially after Piper went inside.

Jerk.

“That’s fine, you need some eye candy after Nathan anyway.”

My heart wrenches again. Like the whole Knox thing isn’t bothering me enough, why did she have to go and say that name?

“Nathan can fuck himself,” I say, my teeth gritted.

“Want to hear the latest?”

“No! Wait, fine, tell me.”

“His fiancée is his younger sister’s old college roommate. She came to visit his sister, they met, and ended up engaged,” she says, pointing to her ring finger.

“Poor girl, doesn’t she have any standards?”

“I know, right?”

“I don’t understand why I stayed with him so long. He was so boring – in and out of bed.”

Why did I waste so much of my life with him? Sure he was charming at first, but he stopped trying pretty damn fast. By that point we were living together, and it was too comfortable, I suppose.

That’s probably why he got engaged so fast, so when he stops trying she’ll be even more sucked in than I was.

At least I know he never cheated on me, that would’ve taken effort. He was far happier on the couch, staring at the TV with his hands down his pants.

Through the computer, I hear her doorbell. “Okay, gotta go. Talk soon.”

“Love you,” I say.

“Love you too, babe,” Darla says.

I sit motionless, wondering what to do next.

Knox

Why is she pointing her laptop out the window? Is she filming me? I fight the churning in my gut and don’t go pound on her door. As much as I want to barge into her house to demand answers and make it clear she’s never to video me again, I fight the urge.

Or whatever it is she’s doing.

She’s different, I’ll give her that much.

I work another hour, retesting and re-tweaking every last mechanical element of the ’71 Mustang before I drive it over to Marcus tomorrow. He’ll give the interior and exterior one final polish and shine before handing it over to the buyer.

He deals with most of the face-to-face client stuff, because he says I’m too rude. Whatever. I let him do it because then it’s one less thing for me to do. Though he always seems to need my ‘help’ when the client is a woman.

At six, I head inside.

“Supper!” I call to Piper.

I take two plates out of the cupboard and spoon on some chili from the simmering pot on the stove. It’s the best dish I make, and Piper’s favorite food.

After I set the dishes on the small kitchen table, I plop a microwaved bag of rice and a tub of sour cream in the middle of the table. I put a can of coke beside her plate, and a can of beer beside mine.

“What’s tonight?” Piper says as she bounds into the room. She walks to the fridge with the coke, puts it back, and grabs a glass of water instead.

“Chili night.”

“Cool.”

“Just cool? I thought it was your favorite.”

“It used to be. But not anymore,” she says and shovels a spoonful of sour cream onto her plate.

Is this another thirteen-year-old thing?

“What’s your new favorite?” I ask. I’ll make it for her tomorrow.

I tear open the bag of rice and shake some onto each of our plates.

“I don’t know. I can’t decide.”

“Oh well, you can have more than one food you like best.”

Piper’s bottom lip sticks out, the way it did when she was little and trying to figure out a problem. With her fork, she mixes her rice, chili and sour cream into an unappetizing mess.

“Dad.” The seriousness of her voice puts me on alert.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“I don’t have any favorite things.” Her shoulders slump.

“So? What does that matter?”

Piper drops her fork and looks at me like I’m the biggest idiot who ever lived. “I can’t decide on any favorite things!”

“That’s fine. I don’t have favorite things either.”

“You have a favorite band, it’s the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I don’t even have a favorite band.”

“But that’s no big deal. You like lots of songs.”

“It is a big deal, it makes me boring.”

“You’re not boring. It probably makes you more interesting.”

“It’s doesn’t. It makes me weird. How am I supposed to answer generic first-date questions? I’m doomed.”

My heart hammers against my ribs at the thought of her dating. I can barely bring myself to think about it.

“Boys don’t care about your favorite things,” I say, leaning over my plate and dangling my fork from my fingers.

“They don’t? What else would we talk about? And don’t say politics.”

The topic makes my shoulders tense.

“All sorts of thing. Movies, sports.”

“And kissing. Is it true they like to talk about s-e-x?”

My fork falls from my hand, and I clear my throat. My heart and brain nearly explode. I can’t believe she said that to me. Though part of me is glad she’ll talk about anything to me. I guess.

But the thought of some boy kissing Piper is too much.

“It depends on the guy. Only the jerks would talk about that, you can do better.”

“Maybe I should talk to Avery about it,” she says.

“Why? You can talk to me about it.”

“I don’t know. Because you’re a man.”

“Yeah, and I know how men think. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re still young.” Too young to be hanging around with boys.

Fuck. I have to make sure she never goes to any classic car rides. Too much shit goes on at them. Shit she’s too good for.

“I’ll be in high school in a few months,” Piper whines.

“But for the next few weeks, you’re still in middle school.”

She grumbles and takes a big mouthful of the chili. We eat in silence for a few minutes. I’m hungry, and it’s enough time to finish my food. I stand and refill my plate from the pot on the stove.

“Want more?” I ask.

“No, thanks. We should have Avery over for dinner.”

“Where did that come from?”

“She’s soooo amazing. You would love her. Can she come over for dinner? Can she?” Her smile is ear to ear.

“No.” As if. I’m not inviting her into my home. That would just be asking her to stick her nose in more places. Avery would probably tell me my cooking isn’t good enough for my daughter, or that her bedroom isn’t nice enough.

“Why not? That’s not fair. She’s funny, I know you’d like her. Why can’t she come over?”

Why would I like someone who tells me I’m a bad father?

“Because I said so. Why should she?”

“Because she’s our neighbor, and she’s great. She’s way more fun than Mrs. Coupland,” Piper says, her eyes wide.

“Mrs. Coupland never came for supper either.”

“But, Dad.”

“No buts,” I say in my firmest voice.

Defeated, she sinks back into her chair and finishes her dinner.

We watch two episodes of Law & Order before she goes to bed. Like every night, I flop exhausted on the couch and wonder how I’m going to make it through the teenage years.

I churn it around in my brain until I get fed up with thinking about it.

After flicking through all the channels on TV, I give up on finding something to take my mind off things, and decide I’d better check Avery’s YouTube channel to make sure I’m not on it.

The video she posted today is called Hot and Bothered. It turns out to be her talking about a book. An instruction manual on how to have good sex. Avery talks about how wonderful and amazing the book is.

“Every single person is guaranteed to learn a new sex tip in this, I promise you,” Avery says in her sultry voice.

Don’t think so.

Something comes over me. Before I can stop myself, I’ve registered a YouTube account and type out a response on my iPad.

Ox Man: I promise you I can teach you more than what’s in that book, guaranteed. Anytime you want a lesson, baby.

I chuckle out loud as I read it back. What will she make of it?

Before I know it, I’ve watched five more of her videos, and I’m sitting on my bed with my rock hard cock in my hand. This is stupid, I know. I shouldn’t be associating the meddler with a reason to get a chubby.

But right now I can’t help myself.

I stare at her full lips as they move, her voice sending shivers down my back. Gripping my cock, I imagine running the tip along her lips. How soft they’d be against me, before silencing her sexy voice by ramming my full length over her tongue and down her throat.

My hand moves faster and faster over my shaft while the memory of her voice puts my body on higher and higher edge. I imagine undoing more of those buttons she had on today, and picture what her tits look like. What shape they take as they hang braless from her body.

Avery says, “When she’s good and wet, and I mean dripping wet, put your cock in her and…”

I don’t hear the and. The thought of my cock moving in her dripping wet pussy makes my cock erupt. My body shudders violently, and I flop back onto the bed to let the ecstasy wash over me.

After a few minutes, I curse myself for what I’ve done. I have to stop watching her videos. I have to stop thinking of her voice when I come. It pisses me off that I didn’t have more restraint.

Avery

It’s Friday, and a beautiful day outside. It’s seventy five degrees, the warmest day of the year so far, and I’ve opened every window in the house to air it out. The goal is to totally eliminate the lingering smell of the last owner and make it all mine.

Because it is all mine. Not one single penny came from anyone else. The thought fills me with pride.

When I started making my YouTube videos, my friends all laughed at me. Except Darla, of course. They were all laughing at her too, and we spent many a long night consoling each other. Vodka was the biggest help in blocking out their taunting. Especially Nathan’s.

But who’s laughing now?

Both of us are now making good money. Best of all, they’re sitting in cubicles all day dreaming of doing something more with their lives and we’re doing what we want to do.

My plan for this afternoon is to familiarize myself with the next few products I’m going to pimp on video tomorrow. (Yes, I work seven days a week.) I have a schedule for releasing them that I have to meet, so I don’t have any control over the order once I’ve agreed and settled on a date and price with the client.

Tomorrow, I have to get Xtreme Buzz filmed and ready to post for Monday.

I go to my fake bedroom, grab the box and sit at my desk in front of the window.

The first thing I always do is examine the packaging. Xtreme Buzz comes in a purple box that looks expensive and it weighs a lot. The writing on the back promises all the power of an outboard motor and guarantees mind-exploding play every time.

Sure.

I pimp so many of these vibrators, and they all say the same. Well, maybe not the outboard motor part. That’s kind of weird.

It’s a sturdy box and I lift the lid, exposing the toy inside. It’s wrapped in a silky cloth that’s covered in purple kisses. It’s visual, and will look good on the webcam, which is always a bonus. Pretty items get a higher purchase rate, and I get a kick back on every sale I send them.

Plus, now that I don’t have a sex life, solo toys are easiest for me to yammer on about. Since I identify with them now and all.

It’s really hard to do this job without a sex life. How depressing, dishing out advice to all these people having sex, when I haven’t had so much as a kiss in six whole months.

I think I’m even forgetting how it’s done. And I’m certainly running out of new ideas. Sometimes I feel like a nun doling out sex advice.

Turning my attention to the toy, at first I think you only plug the Xtreme Buzz in to charge it, then realize the cord is fixed in. This vibrator must be used while plugged into the wall. The cord is long, but that’s still some planning if you’re going to use it with a partner. ‘Over here honey, near the plug.’ Yeah.

Maybe it’s intended to be used solo.

I get down on my hands and knees to plug it in under my desk. Once I’m back in my chair, I turn on the dial. It’s the lowest setting, but the vibrations in my hand are strong enough to resonate through my entire body. And that’s at a slow speed.

Slowly, I turn up the dial until it’s at its fastest setting. Fuck me.

This thing is insane. Yes, it’s loud like an outboard motor, but holy fucking God, even just holding it in my hand sends vibrations through my entire body.

It’s making me wet, really wet, so I turn it off and drop it on my desk.

My breath heaves as I stare at it. Xtreme Buzz is actually an understatement. A script starts to form in my head and I gaze blankly out the window while I let it form.

A movement breaks my trance. It’s Knox, he’s lifting his garage door. As he stretches to open it fully, his T-shirt lifts up and exposes the bottom of his back muscles.

I zero in on the muscles, wishing he’d turn around so I can see his abs.

The next thing I know, Knox takes off his T-shirt and tosses it into his garage. My breath stops as I survey the perfect specimen of a man.

In addition to all the arm tattoos, he has a few on his chest. His big, powerful, muscular chest.

This isn’t good. He’s my neighbor. And a jerk. I try to drag my eyes away, but can’t.

Like Darla said, there’s nothing wrong with looking. And right now I have the best view going.

Knox disappears into the garage. A few seconds later, a car reverses all the way out of the garage. It’s not the red Mustang from earlier this week. This one is powder blue, but I have no idea what it is. Something old, although it looks shiny new.

He gets out of the car and raises the hood. I assume he’s taking advantage of the beautiful weather as much as I am.

Leaning under the hood, his black jeans mold to his muscular ass, and I get a perfect view.

This is bad, and wrong, and all sorts of other stuff, but my pussy is still wet from the Xtreme Buzz and I have an itch that needs to be scratched.

Standing up, I undo my shorts and let them fall around my feet.

No. I shouldn’t do this.

But his ass, those arms, that torso. I slip my finger under my panties to feel how wet I am. Sopping. And at this point, it’s difficult to know how much is from the vibrator and how much is from Knox.

I pull off my panties and sit back at my desk. It takes a bit of contorting, but I get myself in a position where, due to the angles, I can discreetly look out my window at him without him being able to see me.

There’s no need for any lubricant, I’m wet enough already. I put the Xtreme Buzz to my entrance and insert it slowly into me. It’s actually quite thick and long. Fucking thick.

My breath is already shallow, and I slowly turn the dial on. The low setting resonates through me, but I keep on turning until it’s at the fastest setting.

It doesn’t take long before my entire body, from my head to my toes, is full of tension. I flick my eyes out the window at Knox.

He’s standing in a different position now, giving me a side view of his muscular bicep. I imagine his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight.

His imagined strength sends a low moan out of my mouth, and I wonder how long before the dam bursts. I concentrate on the pulsing inside of me as it builds and builds at an alarmingly fast rate. It seems like every cell in my body is vibrating, and my legs go weak.

A high-pitched moan bursts from me as the damn crumbles and my body gyrates with the craziest orgasm I’ve felt in years. Possibly ever.

My hand is shaking so much, it can barely hold the vibrator. But before my brain can send the signal to let go, the tension once again fills me. A single glance at Knox and my brain imagines all sorts of possibilities.

I muffle a scream as an even more powerful orgasm rips through me with such force, I fall out of my precarious position. I have to scramble to keep from falling over.

My laptop falls to the floor and the coffee mug falls onto it, smashing. I worry about the noise and if Knox heard it. Only then do I realize my head is smushed up against the window screen, and Knox is staring straight at me.

As fast as my still climaxing body can move, I slink down from the open window, off my desk and onto the floor.

Once the last ripples subside, I bury my hands in my face. As if the laptop incident wasn’t bad enough. I really hope I managed to dampen that scream. And all those moans. He’s only actually about ten feet away and what the hell was I thinking with the open windows.

Idiot.

Knox

I adjust my stiff cock in my jeans. Fuck me. There’s no doubt that was just Avery’s come face smushed up against her window screen. She’s going to have lines in her cheeks from it.

Not that she noticed at the time.

I don’t know what kind of sex toy that was, but it sure as fuck was loud.

Her moaning and screaming was better than I even imagined. The back of my neck is prickling at the memory of them.

But what the fuck was she doing, with her head up against her window? Making those noises. Doesn’t she know how close I am to her open window? It’s like she was up there just to call my cock into action.

Unless. No.

I put my T-shirt on and stick my head back under the hood of the ’58 Corvette that I’m working on. I brought it here from our main garage yesterday, where Marcus repaired the ripped upholstery in the seats. It’s almost ready, and I can do everything else that needs to be done here.

My cock doesn’t get the hint from my brain that this is work time, and that it needs to go down. Avery isn’t an option anyway.

No matter how hard she makes me.

I ignore the pain in my pants and force myself to focus on the car.

When it’s six, I head inside. There’s still enough chili for tonight, our third night in a row eating it. At some point in my life, I’m going to buy some plastic containers so I can freeze the leftovers and we don’t have to eat the same one-pot wonder night after night.

“Supper!” I call to Piper as I set everything on the table.

She appears, turns up her nose and whines, “Again?”

“Don’t worry, it’s gone now.”

“Can we order pizza tomorrow? Please?”

“Sure thing.” Saves me cooking on the weekend.

“It’s my shopping trip tomorrow, don’t forget. I need money, too. Like you said I could have.”

“Sure.”

I’d pushed it from my mind. Somehow the topic of me not being enough for my daughter wasn’t something I wanted to dwell on.

Piper swallows her food, and says, “Hey, can Avery come for pizza too?”

“No,” I snap without hesitation.

“But, Dad, why? It would be fun. And you’d love her, I know you would.”

Because I’d end up nailing her against the wall to coax those sounds she made earlier from her throat. I know I could do better than whatever sex toy she has to use.

“Because I said so.”

She takes another mouthful of food, and glares at me while she chews. I try my best to ignore her.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that you’re okay with sending me off to the mall with someone you don’t even know?”

“I do know her, she lives next door.”

“You know where she lives, that isn’t the same as knowing her.”

“Close enough.”

“Is it really? What if she’s an ax murderer and I’m too young and naive to see it?”

“Avery’s not an ax murderer.” Though she is a little weird. And is all over the internet talking about sex. And masturbates with her head against her window.

Maybe Piper is right. I should know Avery better before letting Piper go off with her on a shopping trip.

“Tell you what, go next door and tell Avery to come over here now for dessert.”

“Now?” she exclaims, jumping from her chair.

“Yes, now.”

“Dessert! Really?”

“Sure.”

“Do we have any? We never eat dessert.”

“I’ll find something. Go get her while I load the dishwasher.”

Piper runs out the front door, and I stack all the dishes into the dishwasher. I open the cupboard, looking for some sort of dessert, but there are only bags of chips and chocolate chip cookies.

Maybe there’s ice cream. I dig around in the freezer and find a tub of vanilla, but when I open the container it’s mostly empty and what’s left is covered in freezer burn.

Chocolate chip cookies will have to do.

While I wait for them, I crack open another beer and take a seat on the denim couch.

Piper’s been over there a while, and I start to wonder if Avery will come at all. Though I know how persuasive Piper is.

I finish off my beer and stand to get another when Piper comes bounding into the house, dragging Avery by the hand.

“Hey,” I say, nodding at Avery. I have to look away, to clear my mind of the image of her face pressed up against the window. If I don’t clear it now, I’ll have to leave the room and hide in my bedroom, because there’s no way I’ll be able to have a conversation with her.

“What’s for dessert?” Piper says, bouncing into the kitchen.

“Chocolate chip cookies.”

Her face falls, “That’s it?”

“For you, yes.” I turn to Avery, she’s stifling a laugh. “Beer?” I ask.

“Sounds nice,” she says, her voice somehow even sexier than before.

Piper takes the entire package of cookies and says “Come on, Avery. Let’s sit down.”

I follow the two of them down into the living room, trying to keep my eyes off the sway of Avery’s ass as she walks in front of me.

Piper sits on the couch, and Avery sits beside her. I sit on the armchair, near Piper’s end of the couch.

Piper sits on her knees sideways on the couch, facing Avery with her back to me. Avery twists in her seat, and I have a full frontal view of her.

She’s wearing khaki shorts and a loose-fitting pink top that seems to emphasis her tits. I take a sip of my beer to force my eyes from her. When I come up for air, I rest the can on my knee and stare at it.

They talk to each other while I listen, my eyes fixed on my beer. Once I get used to hearing so much of Avery’s voice, my dick settles down and I’m able to hear what they’re actually saying.

I can’t believe how Avery plays right along with all Piper’s would you rather questions, and always has another one ready to give to Piper. They seem to have some sort of connection.

The longer I sit here and listen to them, the more grateful I am for Avery taking Piper shopping. Maybe it’s time for me to acknowledge I can’t do the girly shit after all. And God knows it’s only going to get harder and more serious than buying bras.

It was a good piece of luck, Avery moving in next door. For Piper’s sake.

“What about you, Knox? You’re being awfully quiet,” Avery says.

“Huh?”

“Would you rather have x-ray vision or be able to read minds?” Piper asks.

I raise my eyes to them and exhale through my mouth.

“Easy, x-ray vision,” I say. If I had x-ray vision I could see straight through that pink top Avery’s wearing.

“Okay, your turn to ask a question,” Piper says.

“It is? Fine. Avery, you sure have some hardcore power tools over there. What are you doing with them?”

“I, uh, I…” she says, her face redder than a Ferrari.

“Unless you’re working on a small outboard engine. In which case, I can help you with it.”

“Yeah, my dad’s real good at fixing engines,” Piper says.

“Even if it doesn’t need fixing, engines can always use a service,” I say.

“It’s a drill, I was hanging pictures. Decorating the new house, you know.”

“Well if you ever need help with drilling, just come ask. I’d be more than happy to help you out. Though I don’t normally use power tools to hang a picture. I find a good old-fashioned hammering to nail them to the wall most satisfying.”

Avery

I want to die. Is it possible to run out of their house, get in my car and never set foot in this town again?

There’s no way he wasn’t referring to the Xtreme Buzz, is there? Please tell me he didn’t see me. He couldn’t, the angle was too low, at least until my body started contorting and writhing involuntarily.

I need a hole to crawl into right now. Or the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

Ugh, and he offered to come drill me. And nail me. No, no, no. Even if he is hot, sitting there in his tight T-shirt, showing off his powerful arms.

I wonder what he’s like in bed.

“I never see anyone visit you. Got a boyfriend?” Knox asks.

“No, Dad, Avery doesn’t have a boyfriend. She broke up with hers six months ago, and that’s why she moved here,” Piper says.

“Thanks, Piper. I think Avery can speak for herself,” Knox says.

“Piper’s doing a great job, aren’t you?” I say to her. She can answer his questions while I slink away.

“I’m just trying to get to know my new neighbor, is all,” Knox says.

Funny, he didn’t want to get to know me when I brought the beers over and said I wanted to get to know him. He obviously knows what I was doing earlier, and sees this as an opportunity for convenient sex. Figures.

“There’s not much to tell, really. This is my first house, I bought it with an advance on my book, and I like chocolate.”

“That’s everything?” Knox asks.

“That’s the main stuff.”

“What are the pictures of?”

“What pictures?”

“The ones you were hanging. With your drill.”

My cheeks flush all over again. I walked straight into that.

“Nothing exciting, flowers in fields and stuff.”

“That’s disappointing,” Knox says, smirking.

He leans forward in his chair, and sets his beer can on the worn coffee table. When he rights himself, he’s got some serious man spread going on. Like he’s trying to tell me his dick is so big he has to sit with his legs wide apart to accommodate it.

Or maybe he wants me to look at it. I refuse to let me eyes go there.

“You know, in college I once did a study on body language, and how to tell if a guy likes a particular girl.” It’s my feeble attempt to get back at him.

“What kind of course were you taking where you had to do a study like that?”

“Behavioral studies.” I leave out the in a sexual context part. I took the single class when I started vlogging, so I’d at least sound a little bit credible.

Knox grunts.

I sigh.

“Anyway, it’s been nice but it’s late, and I have some work to do in the morning before we go shopping,” I say, standing.

Piper jumps up and gives me a hug. “I can’t wait,” she says.

“We’re going to have a blast,” I say, hugging her back.

Knox doesn’t move from his position. Most people would get up and see their guest to the door, not him, apparently.

“Thanks for the beer,” I say.

He grunts.

“Okay then.” I walk towards the front door.

“Hey Avery,” Knox says, stopping me in my tracks.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for taking Piper shopping.” He locks his eyes on mine, and a pool of heat forms in my core.

“It’s my pleasure,” I say, and flee out the house before I do something stupid, like ask him to help me hang some pictures.

* * *

It’s morning, and I need to shoot a video before I take Piper shopping.

This one is called Don’t be Annoying.

“My ex always used to make this noise that sounded like a worn-out squeeze toy. He didn’t do it when he was close to orgasm, that would’ve been understandable. No. He would do it when he wanted some. Like the noise was going to somehow get me in the mood. It didn’t. Ever.”

My rant about Nathan continues. “Admittedly, I never had the guts to come out and tell him to stop with his stupid noise, but, trust me, guys, I hinted at it plenty. But he never took the hint. So here’s where today’s tip comes in. Pay attention to your lover. If you do something and they wince, you probably shouldn’t do it again. But if you do, and they wince again, you definitely shouldn’t do it again. Remember, always pleasure your partner, and they’ll pleasure you.”

Instead of turning off the webcam, I vent all of my sexual frustration. I can edit it out later. Right now it just feels good to say it out loud.

Why did it take me so long to leave Nathan? I curse myself every day for staying with him for so many years. It’s four years of my life I’ll never get back. I could’ve found someone else, and been happy.

And had lots of amazing sex and I wouldn’t be an internet fraud, the way I am now.

Piper and I are going out at one. I need to eat lunch first, but a thought hits me. I quickly change my shirt so I’m not wearing the same clothes as the Don’t be Annoying video, and hit record.

“I know my pages are generally aimed at couples in relationships, but today I want to talk about casual sex. Because we all can’t be in a relationship all the time, can we? And we have needs. Needs that sometimes just can’t be fulfilled on our own, no matter how powerful our toys. So what do we do? Suppress those urges? Or find someone to scratch them? Say someone you’d never, ever be interested in a relationship with, because they’re a jerk or whatever. I’d be interested in hearing your opinions on this issue, just comment on this video and maybe we can get a good discussion going.”

I hope my viewers can tell me what to do, I need their help, for once.

“Do we find someone we know we could and would never, ever have a real relationship with, but that we find really sexy? Or do we only find them in our minds and fantasies and stay solo until another real relationship starts?”

I spend the rest of the morning editing it. Fueled by the anger I felt while videoing it, I bump my originally planned video to next week and post my Nathan bitchfest Don’t be Annoying. After a moment, I publish the second as well. I call it F*ck Buddies.

The doorbell rings, and I realize it’s one o’clock and I still haven’t eaten. I head downstairs, and let Piper in.

“Hey, Piper. Have you eaten? I haven’t had time yet, I’m just going to grab a quick sandwich.”

“No problem. Sorry we didn’t have any dessert last night.”

I laugh, “That doesn’t matter, it was fun hanging out with you guys.”

“My dad really likes you.”

“He does? He barely said anything.”

“He never talks much. He likes to listen.”

Maybe that’s why Piper talks so much, since he doesn’t someone had to.

“Is he like that with everyone?”

She shrugs, “Don’t know. I think so. But he agrees with me that you’re really pretty and beautiful and funny.”

I laugh, why is she saying this? Is this part of his attempt to drill me? Was he serious when he said that? When he first said it I thought he was serious, but this morning I wondered if he was joking and decided it was all an attempt to embarrass me more after the Xtreme Buzz thing.

Which reminds me, I must never talk to him again. Or even see him. And I definitely can’t let him see me. Which will be tricky, since I live next to him and seem to spend a lot of time hanging out with his daughter, but I’ll figure out a way.

“What’s your favorite pizza?”

“Meat Lovers,” I say. I’m getting used to her quick changes of topics.

“We’re going to order pizza tonight. You’re coming, right?”

I try to keep my face from looking too horrified while I think of an excuse not to go.

“I’m really sorry, but I have some work I have to get done for tomorrow.”

“But it’s Sunday tomorrow.”

“It’s not fair, is it? But you know editors.”

“That’s so cool. I can’t believe I’m living next to a real, live author.”

How long can I keep this writing-a-book facade up?

“You know what, I’m good with eating a banana in the car. Ready to shop till you drop?” Because the faster we get out of here, the less chance there is of him seeing me.

Knox

Piper insists on Avery coming here for pizza after their shopping trip. Fine by me, I enjoy toying with her.

Though if I’m not careful, I won’t be able to control my cock, and I’ll end up with her bent over my kitchen counter. Actually, forget that. I want her on her back so I can hear her sex kitten voice as I make her purr.

I figure I may as well get some work done while Piper’s out, and head into my garage to work some more on the blue Corvette. As I’m bent over the car, I can’t help hearing the echoes of Avery’s voice as she moaned out the window that day.

Standing, I turn to look up at her window and remember the look on her face. If that’s what I do to her when I’m standing ten feet away, I’d love to see what she does when she’s in my arms.

My mind runs wild with all sorts of possibilities for her. The ideas are endless.

Except one thought hits me. Piper.

The day it became clear that Piper was my responsibility to raise, I promised her I wouldn’t expose her to a string of girls. That I’d give her as stable an environment to grow up in as a twenty-two-year old was capable of providing.

Thirteen years later, I haven’t broken my word to her. There’s no way I can fuck that up now.

Still, my mind wanders to the swell of Avery’s tits under that top she had on last night. I can’t help wondering what she looks like naked. I tell myself she’s nowhere near as good as I’m imagining, and that this whole thing is getting out of control.

I need to get my dick in line. This is what happens when you don’t get regular sex. I haven’t fucked anyone since Mrs. Coupland moved. That’s what this is, is all. A serious case of blue balls.

It’s almost six, and they should be home soon. I don’t understand how it takes five hours to buy bras.

Good thing I didn’t have to go. I’d have made Piper get the first thing she saw. We would’ve been in and out of Target in five minutes.

Somehow I don’t think Piper would’ve been happy with that.

Regardless, Avery’s coming here for pizza. Tonight it would be nice to make it through the night with the ability to stand and walk her to the door like a normal person. Unlike last night, when I had such a raging hard-on that I couldn’t stand and anyone would’ve seen the gigantic bulge in my jeans.

The only way to solve that is with a quick release, to keep my dick from getting too excited when it hears her voice.

Minutes later, I’m in the bathroom with the door locked, in case they come home anytime soon.

My hard cock is in my hand and I’m doing my best to think of anyone but Avery. I think of Charlize Theron. I think of Beyoncé. I think of Jennifer Lawrence. But my mind keeps running back to the sounds Avery made when she was smushed up against her window screen.

The memory of each little sound sends my cock stiffer and makes my back tense. Tingles radiate from my groin through my entire body, and I keep stroking, remembering the look of her face as she came.

I want that look for me. A shudder rips through me as cum spurts from my cock. Fuck, I’ve got to stop doing this. I need to stop fantasizing about her while jerking off.

Except I keep saying that, and I keep doing it. Like I’m some kind of pimply teenager with his first crush.

After cleaning myself up, I head into the living room to relax while I wait for Piper and Avery to get home.

I promised Piper pizza. What’s Avery’s favorite type of pizza? It’s probably spinach or something girly. That’s fine, I can order whatever, I’ll just get a meat lover for myself.

Since it’s after six, I order two pizzas, one meat lover and one vegetarian so we won’t have to wait for them after they get home.

At six thirty, Piper flies through the door, slamming it behind her. Her arms are loaded down with bags. I assume she spent every penny I gave her.

Piper’s buzzing with adrenaline. She flits into the living room and dumps the contents of her bags onto the couch.

“Where’s Avery?” I ask.

“She went home. Said she’s not feeling well. Thinks she’s coming down with something.”

Bullshit. She’s hiding from me. Maybe I gave her too much of a hard time last night.

Leaving Piper to examine her hoard, I go over to Avery’s and ring the doorbell. Nothing. I knock on the door. She doesn’t answer. But I know she’s in there, so I pound a little harder.

“Avery,” I yell through the door.

Silence. She’s hiding.

A smirk forms on my face and I silently laugh at how much I’ve rattled her. Another time.

The pizza delivery guy arrives while I’m standing on her doorstep. I wander back to meet him at his car. After paying him, I take both pizzas and wonder what to do with the vegetarian.

It doesn’t take long to decide to leave it on Avery’s doorstep.

“Here’s your pizza I ordered you. I’m leaving it on your doorstep, you can get it after I go home — since I know how you don’t want me to catch your cold and all,” I yell through her door.

Back inside, I put the meat lover pizza on my kitchen table and get out two plates.

“Pizza,” I call.

Piper bounds into the room, wearing a different outfit than the one she arrived home in.

“Those new clothes? They’re nice,” I say, trying to relate to the girl.

“Thanks. Avery helped me pick them.”

I don’t dare ask about the bras she went to buy.

“So you had fun?”

“Yes, Avery’s so awesome. And guess what, she had lots of fun last night and really likes you. Like, really likes you.”

That’s why she had to run home and hide.

“Oh,” I say, not wanting to enter into this sort of conversation with her.

After the pizza is gone, I sit through a fashion show of Piper modeling all her new clothes in various combinations. Fortunately she doesn’t mention the bras either.

When she’s bored of that, we watch another episode of Law & Order before she heads to bed.

Piper’s been asleep for awhile, and I grab my iPad for my now nightly ritual of watching Avery’s videos.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head when I see today’s video, F*ck Buddies. My finger flies across the screen and clicks “watch now.”

Unlike her normal videos, this one is raw with emotion. Her normal cool, controlled self is nowhere in sight. Instead, she’s appealing to her viewers to tell her if she should fuck me or not.

My heart hammers against my ribs. I’ve rattled her. There’s not a shred of doubt in my mind that this video is about me.

Avery said she only wants casual sex. Fine by me, that’s all I want too. Except she said she wanted it because she’d never be interested in a relationship with him, because he’s a jerk.

She thinks I’m a jerk?

Whatever. She’s a judgmental meddler. That doesn’t need to stop us having a good time.

It takes all my self control not to barge over there right now and fuck her senseless.

But I have to think about Piper.

There must be a way to keep it secret from Piper. Avery’s home in the day. I’m usually home in the day. We can fuck while she’s at school.

We would just have to make sure Piper never, under any circumstances, found out. Ever.

And we have to be clear from the outset that this is purely a fuck-buddy arrangement. A convenient one, since she lives next door.

I can’t resist commenting.

Ox Man: He doesn’t want a relationship either, go suck him off already. You know you’re gagging for it.

Avery

Knox’s muffled voice comes through the door, saying something about leaving a pizza for me.

I intend to leave it, but realize the animals will get it and make a mess. After twenty minutes, I creak open the door and whip it inside. It’s untouched, the neighborhood cats and wildlife haven’t found it yet.

At least I have dinner. I carry it into my kitchen, intending to microwave it before eating it in front of the TV. Setting it on the hopelessly old and out-of-date countertop, I get a plate and fling open the lid.

What is it? There’s no pepperoni. My nostrils flare as I lean in and look closer. There doesn’t appear to be any meat at all. Oh well, I guess beggars can’t be choosers, but I’m really surprised a rugged man like Knox orders vegetarian pizza.

He’s full of surprises.

On Sunday, I spend the entire day hiding inside. Even though it’s nearly eighty degrees out and I don’t have any fans or air conditioning, all my windows are shut tight. The idea is to pretend I’m not home. And make sure he can’t hear me from his garage, which is far too close to the property line, now that I think about it.

I don’t have to face Knox if I’m not technically here. Even if I am technically here.

It suits me fine anyway, since there’s always more work for me to do.

Upstairs is unbearably hot and stuffy. The heat releases forty years of smells from the carpet. There’s no way I can work in my fake bedroom. Instead, I grab my laptop and find the coolest room in the house.

It’s the hideous kitchen, naturally. At least it gives me extra motivation to work, so I can earn enough money to have it ripped out.

The first thing I do is check the comments on the F*ck Buddies video I posted yesterday. I still can’t believe I did something so rash. How embarrassing. I hope my viewers forgive me for it.

I intend to capture all the comments, save them to my computer, and delete the video before anyone else has the chance to see it.

Except there are only two comments:

Ox Man: He doesn’t want a relationship either, go suck him off already. You know you’re gagging for it.

And, underneath it, timestamped an hour later:

Hung like a Donkey: What he said. Go get fucked u uptight bitch.

Nice. I’d expected some troll stuff but I’d also expected more from my fans. Especially all my female viewers. Fine, maybe not many people saw it. Other than the seven hundred and eighty thousand views it’s showing.

I click onto the other video I posted yesterday, my rant against Nathan, the Don’t be Annoying video.

Hung like a Donkey: Ur more annoying than him

Great, same troll again. I click into another video.

Mel9424: Love you, you’ve brought so much joy to my life ;) ;)

I smile, glad that I can help someone. There are a dozen more like it. My eyes keep scrolling down the screen, until I see a comment that sticks out at me.

Hung like a Donkey: U don’t know what u r talking about

Um, okay. It’s the same troll again, and my pulse increases.

I click through my older videos. Hung like a Donkey has commented on every single video.

Hung like a Donkey: U talk bullshit

Hung like a Donkey: Ur already stupid but U need to be spanked

Hung like a Donkey: Go get some so u know what you’re saying

And on and on.

All in the past day. Normally I can ignore trolls, but the fact this guy has commented on so many of my videos freaks me out. I report him to YouTube, but there’s not much else I can do.

The second I’ve hit report abuse, I FaceTime Darla.

“Check out my latest troll attack” I say the second she appears on my screen.

Darla’s pale eyes flit across the screen as she clicks into her browser and through my videos.

“What the what?” she says.

“I know, right. I’ve reported it but it’s freaky that he’s posted on so many.”

“Make sure you take screen shots of them all.”

“Good idea.”

“Some people have way too much fucking time on their hands,” she says.

While she’s talking, I grab all of the comments before YouTube takes them down.

The nice thing about living with Nathan, no matter how useless a man he was, was that when my videos were subject to a troll attack, it wasn’t just me in the house. Having him in bed beside me made me sleep a little easier.

Now it’s just me and an oversized pillow for comfort.

“How are you doing, anyway? Anything new?” I ask.

“You mean do I have any more gossip on Nathan?” Darla winks twice at the webcam.

“No, do not tell me anything about Nathan. I mean it. How are you?”

“I’m great, babe. I found a new man. Well, if he’s old enough to be called a man yet.”

“Please tell me he’s old enough to drink.” Is this to do with her turning thirty soon?

“Of course, otherwise how boring would that be? He’s been old enough to drink for a whole year now.”

“How does he know what he’s doing in bed? Doesn’t he come too fast?”

“Oh hell no, I’m teaching him. That’s the fun. This boy doesn’t mind following instructions.”

“How long has it been? You didn’t know him the last time we talked.”

“He’s a fast learner. Let’s just say I’m molding him into my dream man.” Darla motions her hands, miming the perfect male shape. She starts wide at the top, descending into a vee shape. When her hands meet, she flips one over and mock grabs a crotch.

I snort. “You’re bonkers.”

“And you’re not? Had any more run-ins with Mr Hottie next door?”

“Nope,” I say, turning my face so she can’t tell I’m lying.

“Fine. Tell me Friday, since you’re holding out on me now.”

“So anyway,” I hesitate, “I’m going to come to you and stay for the weekend.”

“What? No way, I’m coming to see your new place.”

“You absolutely are not coming here. I miss going to our old haunts, I’m coming to you.”

“Not. Gonna. Happen. I need to see him in the flesh. If you come here, leave your keys under the mat. Because I’m staying at yours this weekend, with or without you.” It’s her don’t-mess-with-me voice. The one everyone knows means business. I’m sure her new boy toy is very familiar with it. If she says she’s coming, she’s coming. If I’m not here and don’t leave the key, she’ll sleep in her car in the driveway.

“But…”

“No buts. Don’t think you can run and hide from introducing me to your neighbor. Because I know that’s what you’re trying to do here.”

Well she’s wrong about one thing, that’s definitely not what I’m trying to avoid. Unless it comes under the umbrella of avoiding all contact with Knox whatsoever.

It’s not going to be possible to avoid him forever, is it?

Ugh. The reality of the thought is a blow to my gut.

But I can hide a little longer, give him time to forget. Make the situation a little less raw.

Darla and I talk for a little longer, before saying our goodbyes.

I throw myself back into my work, planning out the videos I’m going to shoot this week. I’ve got two product placements. Fortunately neither makes noises.

My doorbell rings, and I sink down low against my kitchen table, even though I’m around the corner from the door, and there’s no way anyone could ever see me.

“Avery,” Piper says through the door.

I’m relieved it’s just her, but still don’t want to see her in case she tells Knox I’m not sick after all. There’s always a good chance of her inviting me over to their house for more pizza or dessert.

She bangs on the door, though not with as much force as her father uses. Riddled with guilt, I freeze in place to stay silent.

The letter slot snaps shut, and the house goes quiet again. I peek around the corner. A white envelope is on the floor.

I retrieve the envelope and tear it open. It’s a homemade card, with a surprisingly good drawing of the two of us shopping together. Thank You is written in purple bubble letters across the front.

Inside, written in purple pen, it says:

Dear Avery,

Thank you so much for taking me shopping. I had so much fun and it’s so nice to have pretty bras. I hope we get to do it again, I love hanging out with you.

My dad says thank you, too. He said you’re super nice and funny, and how lucky we are that you live next door to us. He also said you can come for pizza another time.

And that he thinks you’re really pretty.

Piper xoxo

My heart bursts. She’s so sweet. I actually had a lot of fun shopping with her. I wonder if it’s possible to hang out with her and have zero contact whatsoever with her father.

Though I wonder why she’s telling me all the stuff he’s supposedly saying about me.

Knox

I haven’t seen Avery in days. It’s already Wednesday. She’s obviously scarred by my drilling comments. Except she posted the F*ck Buddies video after that conversation. Even though the video’s gone now.

Did she change her mind about wanting a fuck buddy? I haven’t. As long as she agrees to the no-relationship part.

Avery must feel like a sham, posting all these how to have sex videos online, when she doesn’t appear to be having any herself. No wonder she wants a fuck buddy. It’s not just for her body’s needs, she needs one for her job.

I’d be doing her a huge service.

On Monday, she didn’t answer her door, no matter how long I banged on it. Yesterday, she didn’t answer her door, no matter how much I tried to talk her out through her closed door and windows. It’s impressive that she’s kept all her windows shut so tight, since it’s been over eighty every day and I haven’t even worn a shirt all week.

Today, I have a different tactic.

I hear Avery’s front door shut, and jog to the front of her house. She probably thinks I’ve gone to pick up Piper from school, like I normally do. But not today, I asked her friend’s mom if she’d give her a drive home.

“Hey,” I say, rounding the corner of her house. She’s on her driveway, wearing a flimsy sundress that I want to tear off her right this second. She must’ve been making a break for her car. I stride over to her.

She looks at me like a deer in headlights, and a broad smile forms across my face.

“Knox,” she says as I near her.

“Thanks for taking Piper shopping.”

“No problem, anytime. She’s a great kid. You’ve done a good job, considering her mother is in Africa. I mean, what she’s doing is noble, but her priority really should be her daughter.”

Africa? What the fuck is Avery talking about? Focusing on my goal, I ignore the comment.

“She’s a good kid,” I say.

“Anyway, I’d better run,” she says, turning away.

On reflex, I reach out and grab her upper arm to stop her from leaving, before she can go hide again. The second my hand touches her soft skin, a rush of something shoots from my hand all the way down to me feet.

Judging from the way she looks to the sky and swallows, she felt it too.

“I’ve never seen a guy here.”

“Nope,” she says, and leaves her lips slightly parted.

“I was joking around the other day about you not having a man around. But I mean it, if you need any help with anything, I’m here.” I release her arm.

“Oh,” she says, and turns to face me. Our eyes meet, and the same rush blasts through me.

“You know, anything at all,” I say, raising my eyebrows.

Her nose twitches and her tensed shoulders drop.

“Hear me out. I’m single, you’re single. We both have itches that need scratching. We both know you find me… Well, you know, the whole window thing.”

Avery’s eyes widen and her cheeks turn red. She turns to flee again, and once again I grab her arm. Even though I’m touching her, we’re standing arms length apart.

“Let me go.”

“Just let me say what I want to say, then you can go hide from me in your house again.”

Avery lets out a long groan, her other hand flying to her mouth to stop it.

I smirk. “That’s a sound I want to hear more of. Because seriously, you’ve got the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. That day,” she grimaces at my reminder, “when you screamed out the window…”

“Oh God, was it that loud?” she says, looking at the ground.

“That noise made me want to break down your door and help you out. I’m just saying this is a two-way thing. There’s no point in us having to do what you were doing at the window.”

“It wasn’t about you, you know?”

“Then why watch me out the window while you’re doing it? You were ten feet away. Obviously you wanted me to see.”

“I most definitely did not want you to see,” she says, raising her voice in protest.

“But I did, so here we are. No point in prolonging your suffering,” I say, smirking.

“My suffering? What about your suffering? Because it seems to me like you’re the one that wants me,” she says, looking at me with her brow furrowed.

“Let’s be clear, this is just about an itch. Nothing, and I mean nothing, more.”

“Good, because nothing more would ever happen.”

“Exactly. I don’t like you. You don’t like me. We just happen to have needs.”

“You don’t like me?”

“So what, you don’t like me.” Shit, what a stupid thing to say to a woman. “I like your body. And your voice. I really like your voice.”

“You said that already.”

“I meant I don’t want a relationship with you. Because I have Piper, and she’s my priority. But I absolutely want to scratch your itches.”

Avery laughs, the sound makes the blood race in my veins. I step closer to her, and run my hand over the bare skin of her shoulder.

“I’ve never really done the whole casual,” she pauses, “sex thing.”

“Don’t worry. You’ve probably never even had a man please you.”

“Of course I have.”

“Not really. Not the way I can make you feel.”

“Is that so?”

Her eyes wander over my shirtless torso. They get stuck on my six pack for a minute, before zeroing in on my crotch. My cock stiffens under the heat of her gaze, and she grins.

“See, we can help each other out. No strings attached.”

I run a calloused finger over her silky hair and down her cheek, stiffening my cock further.

“No strings?”

“We’d have to agree on that from the start. This is purely itch scratching. It’s not even the hint of a relationship.”

“I can agree to that.” Avery smiles and bites her bottom lip.

Unable to resist, I run my thumb over her full lips. The full lips I’ve been watching and visualizing on my cock all those nights with my iPad. She doesn’t stop me, instead her tongue darts out between them and connects with my thumb.

Jesus, why did she take so long to come out of her house? I’ve waited all fucking day, and now Piper’s about to get home.

I close the rest of the distance between us. The swell of her breasts graze against my exposed chest. My cock strains against my shorts.

“But above all else, Piper must never even suspect anything. Ever,” I say.

“Fine.”

“I’m fucking serious. Not even a whiff. Don’t come knocking on my door at night because you want some. Don’t hint to her that you’ve had so much as a conversation with me. Nothing.”

“You’re right, of course she can never know. She’s a kid. She doesn’t need, or want, to think about her father’s love life.”

I shake my head, “Not love life, sex life.”

“Whatever, that’s even worse. What would she think if she found out I was sleeping with her father?”

“Good, we agree. Any terms you want to add?”

I lean over, our lips an inch apart.

“You really don’t like me?” she asks.

“Do you like me?”

Avery doesn’t say anything.

“Didn’t think so,” I say, and press my lips against hers.

Jesus. My cock surges. They’re every bit as amazing as I’ve imagined. Soft and full, my lips get lost in them the way they’ll get lost in her pussy lips.

The noise of a car rounding the corner hits my ears, and I spring back from Avery.

“Why’d you take so fucking long to come out of the house?” I bark.

“I don’t know.”

“Tomorrow morning, do us both a favor, and answer your goddamn door.”

“Dad! Avery!” Piper shouts, slamming the car door behind her.

My cock deflates at record speed, and I turn to wave to her. She’s running at full tilt towards us.

“Are you feeling better, Avery?”

“Yes, I’m just about to go grocery shopping,” Avery says, “I have to hurry if I want to make it to the bank.” Smooth, real smooth Avery.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go home. Avery’s in a hurry.”Avery

I get in my car, but forget what I was going to the store to buy. Did that really just happen?

My body is buzzing all over. The super hot guy from next door kissed me and is coming over tomorrow morning for more.

Knox and I just agreed to be fuck buddies.

Daytime ones, apparently. That suits me just fine, I’m into some afternoon delight.

Sure, this way I don’t get to be held by a man in bed at night, but it certainly solves me dishing out sex tips to the masses even though I live a nun-like lifestyle. There’s still no relationship in my immediate future — and I most certainly do not want a relationship with Knox anyway.

His terms were perfect for me. It’s like he read my mind.

And damn, going by the way he kisses, he knows what he’s doing. Dear God, the way he tasted, I thought my knees would buckle. What else can he do with those lips?

No more overpowered vibrators for this woman.

I can barely wait until tomorrow. The first thing I’m going to do is run my hands all over those tattoo-covered muscles of his, the ones I’ve been staring at out the window. The second thing is to see if that bulge in his pants really is as big as it seemed today — because there’s no denying the raging hard-on he had just now, but damn, Nathan sure never had anything so big in his pants.

I want my body pressed against his right this minute. Why did I hide in my house all week?

That’s fine. It’s been over six months since I had sex. One more night isn’t going to make a difference. Besides, I need time to cool down and collect myself. The way my mind is racing now, like a horny teenager, I’d just embarrass myself all over again.

Thinking of which, Darla is going to die when I tell her.

No, she’s probably going to thank him for making the arrangement so she didn’t have to.

Sitting in the car, I close my eyes and try to remember whatever it is I needed so badly that I risked leaving my house for. It’s probably milk, but I’ve lost interest.

I get out of the car and go back in the house.

The first thing I do is shave my legs.

Next, I go through my large lingerie collection given to me free and added to weekly by different lingerie designers for me to showcase in my videos.

Do I go full naughty straight away, or stick with something tamer like simple blue satin panties?

I have all night to think about it, I’ll decide in the morning.

Instead, I spend the evening trying to think of other things. I check my fan mail, and answer some questions on social media.

In the end, I’m still buzzing and wind up editing videos until after midnight.

Somehow I manage to resist the urge to FaceTime Darla and tell her the news. I figure we have to act on this arrangement at least once before it’s actually official. At least in her eyes.

Though an hour later, still hyper with the idea, I send her a text:

I don’t want to talk about this now but Knox and I are apparently now neighbors with benefits. Do not call, I won’t answer, xoxo

She’ll want too many details, and ask all sorts of questions I don’t have the answer to right now. Like how big and straight is his cock. It’s better I avoid the conversation altogether, or she’ll end up killing my buzz.

In bed, I toss and turn. Every time I close my eyes, my memory is flooded with his manly smell, the feel of his lips are on mine and I’m just about to reach out and touch his powerful biceps.

My body begs me to reach for the Xtreme Buzz, but I won’t. I can’t. I want to carry this tension through to our morning rendezvous.

I dream about him all night and wake up wet. Forget the blue panties, I’m going with the black lace thong and matching black lace bra.

After showering, I put them on and wonder what to throw on overtop. Would wearing only a housecoat be too forward? Probably. What happens if it’s someone else at the door like a delivery person? I wind up wearing a navy maxi dress with a halter top that shows off my cleavage. I bought it for Nathan’s sister’s wedding last September.

It was the night before we broke up for good, and the last time I had sex. I figured it was fitting, and that I’d be putting a nice bookend on this dry spell.

At eight, before I am completely ready, my doorbell rings. Knox is on my doorstep, in track pants and an old T-shirt and unshaven. He’s underdressed and earlier than I’d expected, but I’m not complaining.

“Hey,” I say, trying to sound cool and collected and not like the desperate, horny woman who hasn’t-been-touched-by-a-man-in-six-months I am.

“Avery,” Knox says, sounding far too serious.

Was it all a joke? Is he backing out on his own idea?

“Yeah?” I say tentatively.

“I need your help. With Piper.”

“With Piper? What’s up?” I ask, my brow furrowed.

“This morning she got her first. Her first… you know.”

“Period?”

Knox’s eyes slowly shut and open again.

“Yes. But it hurts, real bad. I don’t know what to do.”

“Cramps?”

“She’s scared,” he says, his eyes pleading.

“Did you give her a hot water bottle?”

“No,” he says, confused. “I don’t have a hot water bottle.”

“How do you have a girl that age and not have a hot water bottle? You need to be prepared,” I snap.

Knox’s face falls, “I’ll go buy one.”

“I’ll bring mine first. I’m coming right over to calm her down. I’ll give you a shopping list of things to buy. You have tampons and stuff, right?” I say.

“Some. How many do you need each month?”

“It depends,” I say. I feel bad now. He’s in way over his head and I should’ve been more helpful instead of snapping about the water bottle.

Running upstairs, I grab the hot water bottle from the bathroom before running back downstairs again and handing it to him. I follow Knox across the lawn and into his house. Piper is in her pajamas, lying on the couch.

“Hey, Piper,” I say, walking over and perching myself on the edge of the couch.

“Avery,” she says, a weak smile on her face.

“Your dad told me what’s going on. I brought you a hot water bottle, your dad’s filling it up now. It’ll help a lot with your cramps.”

“It hurts so bad,” she says.

“Down low?” I ask, pointing on my own body.

“Yes, right here.”

“That’s normal, sweetie, don’t worry at all. The hot water bottle will help, plus you can take some Tylenol. And you don’t have to move from this couch all day. But don’t worry, it’s only temporary.”

I turn my head to the side, and realize Knox is standing there listening to us. He looks both helpless and mortified.

“Thanks, Avery,” Piper says as I take the bottle from Knox and pass it to her.

“It’s your dad who got it,” I say. “I’m just going to get something from the kitchen.”

Knox follows me into the kitchen and I grab a pen and pad of paper from the table to write out the list of what she’ll need.

“Thank you,” he says.

“No problem. You’re obviously in over your head.” He winces, and I add, “Like any man would be. I’m going to write out a shopping list. You go get it. I’ll stay here and keep Piper company.”

“Can she go to school today?” he asks.

“As much as I really want her to, that would be cruel to the poor girl.”

“I’ll phone the school, then go get the shit on your list.”

He acts like he doesn’t even remember what we were supposed to be doing this morning.

Knox quickly makes me a coffee and leaves for the store. I sit back down with Piper and she asks me a million questions about periods. I answer in my best YouTuber voice.

Knox

I’m standing in the female aisle of the drug store, trying to decipher Avery’s list. How are there so many different types of things? Things I know nothing about, and don’t fucking want to know anything about.

I chuck five of everything on her list in the cart. The more I buy now, the less often I have to come to this aisle. It’s the mystery aisle as far as I’m concerned. I don’t belong here. Next time I’m going to shop online.

On the way home, I pull my prized possession, my ’62 Thunderbird that I restored myself, into the best diner in town. I order a stack of pancakes and two stacks of waffles along with a mountain of bacon to go.

I wonder what else Piper would want. It’s hard to keep up with her likes these days. Or Avery. I should get her some fruit salad or something. Fuck it.

When I get home, I enter the house through the back door, straight into the kitchen.

Dropping all the drug store bags on the floor, I set the two bags of food on the counter. Piper wants waffles, bacon and lots of syrup. I load up her plate and take it to her in the living room.

Avery appears by my side, and says, “Something smells good.”

“Waffles and pancakes. Want some?”

“Hell, yeah. But I smell bacon, is there some for me?”

I point to the bag with the bacon in it. “Help yourself.”

While I lay out a plate for Piper, Avery rips open the bacon bag. Her nose turns up at the contents. What was she expecting?

“Is this all?”

“All what?”

“All the bacon you got?” she asks, snarling.

“There’s tons there.”

“It’s for three people.”

Avery picks up a crispy piece and takes a bite. I watch motionless as she eats the whole damn thing in the most erotic way a piece of bacon has ever been eaten. When she finishes, she slowly sucks the grease off her fingertips, her lips pucker around each finger. I cannot drag my eyes off her and I think she knows it.

All night long I’ve been dreaming of those lips and what I was planning on putting between them today. I can’t help but notice her cleavage today. She must be wearing some sort of cleavage-enhancing bra or I hadn’t paid enough attention to that part of her body, given that I was focused on her other assets. I curse myself for doing it, but let my mind wonder about what she’s wearing underneath that dress.

I’m hit with the urge to drop to my knees and climb under that big, long skirt to find out. It’s no secret it’s hiding a luscious pair of legs that need to be explored with my mouth, but what else is it covering?

“Have another,” I say, motioning my head to the bag.

A coy smile forms on her lips, and she repeats the process with another crispy piece of bacon.

Is she intentionally toying with me? I can’t decide. But whether she is or isn’t, we’re already risking my biggest rule. I said no whiff of this anywhere near Piper. And I have to walk in there and hand Piper her food, and I can’t do that right now because I’ve got a massive tent pole in my sweat pants.

Shaking my head, I look away to keep my focus on Piper. I clear my throat and think of anything except Avery. When that doesn’t work, I think of the way Avery told me I was a shitty dad for not being prepared for Piper’s stuff this morning.

When I’m finished piling food on Piper’s plate, I carry it into the living room.

“Wow, thanks, Dad,” Piper says, bolting up into a seated position.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

On my way back to the kitchen to fix my plate, I pass Avery. Her plate is piled high with more food than I think can physically fit in her tight body. You can’t even see the top of her waffles because she’s covered them in bacon. She wasn’t kidding about the bacon. I hope she left lots for me.

Two pieces. Two fucking flimsy, non-crispy pieces of bacon. Did she really think that was going to be enough for me?

I pile the rest of the food on my plate, still grumbling about the lack of meat, and join them in the living room.

Piper is sitting beside Avery on the couch, both enjoying their bacon. I sit in the armchair.

Avery looks at me, grinning, as she says, “Payback for the veggie pizza,” before stuffing a piece of bacon in her mouth in the same erotic way.

I ignore her and start stuffing my face with breakfast.

Should I ask Piper how she’s feeling? What am I supposed to say to her? Or should I be pretending everything’s normal?

This is the new normal. Just another sign my baby girl is gone.

I just wish I knew what to say to her. It was bad enough I didn’t know what to do for her this morning. Now I don’t even know how to act.

They yammer on about God knows what while I try to chime in once in awhile. Otherwise, I stare at the TV. Law & Order. Of course. That’s okay, Piper deserves it today.

Whatever this episode is about is a mystery to me. My brain is stuck on the memory of Avery licking the bacon grease from her fingers. And of her cleavage. I keep taking quick looks at it, her round tits jiggle with each movement.

I can’t sit here any longer. Things would get awkward.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’ve really got to get some work done. Are you all right if I go out to the garage and work?”

“Sure, Dad. Avery’s here so go ahead.”

Forcing a half smile at her, I stand and flee the house.

Under the hood of the blue Corvette, I finally start to relax. This is something I can understand. Not thirteen-year-old girls.

But Piper quickly vanishes from my mind, and all I can see is Avery’s tits, front and center.

This is crazy. We only agreed to the fuck-buddy thing yesterday. Why have I turned into a horny, desperate teenager overnight? Just because I haven’t been inside a woman since Mrs. Coupland moved and I lost my babysitter?

Or just because I’ve got myself all fired up watching Avery’s videos every night? And because I know how fucking amazing she sounds when she comes. I need to coax those sounds out for myself and hear them in my own ears.

Is Piper going to go to school tomorrow? I don’t want to push her. But tomorrow is Friday, and Avery and I are going to have to wait the whole weekend if Piper stays home.

And right now, I don’t think I can wait the whole weekend. In fact, I know I can’t.

I work for a good couple of hours and make good progress on the car. Avery and Piper can get their own lunches, I’m hungry, but I’ll survive. There’s no way I can handle being around Avery right now.

“Hey,” Avery says. Her voice sends a shiver down my back.

“Hey,” I say, ducking out from under the hood.

“I’ve got some work to do, sorry. I’d love to sit with Piper for the whole day, but I’ve got to work before it gets dark.”

I smirk. “Oh? I didn’t realize authors couldn’t work in the dark.”

“It’s my eyes,” she blurts. “The screen hurts them when I use it in the dark.”

I have to purse my lips to stop from laughing and tighten my jaw. I don’t want her to know I know what she does.

“Thanks for helping out Piper. I really appreciate it,” I say, changing the subject.

“It’s just too bad her mother abandoned her for her charity work in Africa. Piper could really use a mother on days like this.”

What the fuck? That’s the second time she’s mentioned Africa. What’s Piper been telling her? I’m not even going to enter into that conversation with her. Just because I’m going to fuck her doesn’t mean she needs to go sticking her nose in my business.

I hesitate and say, “Sure.”

“Anyway, I promised Piper I’d come back for dinner. I hope that’s okay with you.”

“No problem at all.” It’ll just be a few more hours of me listening to them talk and trying not to look at Avery’s tits.

“Thanks. Really, I just need to take off this g-string I put on for you this morning. It’s not exactly intended to be worn for very long. It’s been killing me all day.”

Avery

Like an animal, Knox pounces on me and pulls me into his arms. The massive arms I’ve been dreaming having around me all night. Since I moved into the house.

He meshes his oil-covered fingers into my hair and cups my head. My heart races at a million miles an hour. This is what I wanted today. My body craves it. Needs it.

His cheek brushes against mine, scratching me with his stubble and sending a burst of tingles through me.

“You can’t go around saying things like that.” Knox growls into my ear.

I gasp, and say, “Why ever not?”

Knox tightens his grip on my hair, and says, “Because you’re breaking our agreement. Before we’ve even done anything. Piper is home.”

“You’re the one holding me.”

“Don’t you fucking test me, or you’ll be back to playing with your power tools.”

“That wouldn’t be any fun for either of us,” I say, my voice breathy.

“No, it wouldn’t. I’d rather bend you over this car right now and fuck you into next week.”

“Fine by me.”

After the anticipation last night and seeing the effect I had on him in the kitchen this morning – I knew he was watching me – there’s nothing I’d want more.

In an instant, he releases me and steps away.

“Stop tempting me. Piper’s home.”

Knox turns his back on me and sticks his head back under the hood of the car. Maybe I should slip my thong off and toss it at him. He’d probably freak.

“You could always come into my house for a little bit. Piper wouldn’t know, she thinks you’re out here.”

He grunts.

“See you at supper,” I say and walk off.

What a charmer. Good thing for him he oozes sex. And that I need to end this dry spell before I run out of things to say to my viewers.

After ditching the thong, I change into something more in line with my online brand, and I make my way to my fake bedroom.

First, I post today’s video. It’s one I shot last week about a service that ships small boxes of rose petals to sprinkle on your bed.

I have a couple of videos to get through today, but most importantly, I have a product placement. I set up all the equipment and hit record.

“Today, I want to share this great, new product with all you ladies. Though I suppose you guys might like it too, either to use on yourself or your woman.”

I hold up a box labeled Pink Curlies.

“Maybe you just want to surprise your man, maybe you’re getting older and want to cover the gray. Pink Curlies is hair dye specifically for your pubes. It comes in several colors and, most fun of all, comes with stencils so you can end up with shapes like hearts and bunnies in your fuzz.”

It’s effortless for me to smile wide, like it’s the best, most fun thing I’ve ever heard of.

I film myself emptying the contents of the box onto my fake bed, then show off each included item and give a brief walk through of the steps and how easy it is to use.

Though I haven’t actually tried this product out. I’m trusting the manufacturer when they say it’s easy to use. Normally I test things out the day before, but somehow I didn’t think it was a good idea to go into my first encounter with Knox with fluorescent pubes.

What would he think? What would any man think?

When I’m finished shooting, I sit at my desk to edit it. Knox is outside, moving around the car in front of his garage. I sigh, remembering the way I felt in his arms.

I’m hit with inspiration, so I quickly change my top and hit record again.

“Okay guys, listen up. Today I want to talk about stubble. Ladies, we all know how sexy it looks, right? Especially on a strong jaw. Is there anything that displays manliness more? No. We all agree. But that’s from afar. Close up, it hurts. It makes kissing a scratch fest and can leave your partner’s delicate skin raw. Worst of all, guys, by not shaving, you’re risking your woman not wanting to kiss you at all. So do both of you a favor, and shave ahead of time.”

I ramble on a bit more about stubble, and when I have enough material to use, I sit back down at the desk.

This is great. Already Knox is giving me ideas for videos. Over the past few months, my videos have lost their enthusiasm and gotten stale, but now, now it seems like my career is saved.

Gazing at him out the window, I’m hit with another idea. I change my top again and step back in front of the webcam.

“Today I want to talk to both you men and women equally. This topic isn’t so much about how to do things, but how to look at things. I often get emails and comments from you about your struggles to get turned on anymore by your partner. Instead of looking at their bodies, I want you to look at the things they do every day that are sexy. Simple things. For example, is there anything sexier than a man doing his best to nurture his child? I guess that goes the other way around, too. It’s all in how you look at the little things, and when you appreciate those things, you’re heart softens to them. And when that happens, you’re bound to look at them differently.”

I know I look at Knox differently after today. It’s obvious he’d do anything for Piper. And that being in over his head and out of his comfort zone today was bothering him. But that didn’t stop him from trying. Until he ran away to the garage anyway.

Sitting at my desk, I edit the Pink Curlies video followed by the two videos Knox inspired, sneaking frequent looks out my window at him. After each look, I chastise myself. But that still doesn’t stop me considering taking my top off and calling to him out my window.

In the end I don’t because he seemed serious about his terms about Piper, and I don’t want to mess things up right now. Not when my videos are about to be reinvigorated from the hottest man ever.

It’s getting late by the time I finish editing, and I promised Piper I’d be back for supper. It’s nice to not have to eat alone in my house, and I’m looking forward to going over there.

I post the stubble video but save the other Knox-inspired video for another day.

A message arrives in my inbox. My shoulders drop as I read it. It’s a form letter from YouTube, saying they’re investigating the YouTube comments from the donkey guy.

Frustrated, I shut my laptop.

Without even thinking about changing my clothes, I grab some beers and head out the door.

Standing on Knox’s doorstep, I ring the doorbell.

“Avery!” Piper says, answering the door. I swear everything that comes out of her mouth is an exclamation.

“Hey, how’re you feeling now?” I ask, entering the house and following her into the living room.

“Okay, the cramps aren’t as bad. But they still hurt.”

“Think you feel comfortable enough to go to school tomorrow?” Please say yes.

She shrugs, “Dunno.”

I try to hide the disappointment on my face.

“We'll see how you feel in the morning. Where’s your dad?”

“In the kitchen, making supper.”

“I’m going to see if he needs any help.”

Knox

“I brought some beers,” Avery says, appearing in my kitchen.

She’s changed out of that crazy cleavage dress, into black pants and a bright blue shirt I recognize from her video on how to give the perfect blowjob. I’ve watched that video so many times, I know every stitch of that blouse. And I’ve fantasized about ripping it off more times than I care to admit.

“Thanks.” I take them from her and put them in the fridge.

“Smells great in here. Need any help with dinner?” she says, her voice slow and arousing.

I should tell her to go home and change. Or at least to go and sit with Piper. Instead I say, “You put the forks on the table.”

“Sure thing.”

Avery opens the drawer I’m pointing at and takes out three forks.

“It’s goulash,” I say, standing over my one-pot wonder.

“I love goulash,” she says, but I’m not sure whether to believe her.

She comes up close beside me, the lengths of our bodies touching. This is dangerous, she should go in the other room. But first, I can’t resist bending my neck and brushing my lips through her hair. The contact sends a shiver down my back, all the way to my feet.

Fuck. Why did I do that? I’ve never wanted to fuck anyone so bad in my entire life.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, leaving the room.

Once my dick calms down, I go into the living room. Piper is still in the same spot on the couch she’s been in all day.

“Supper,” I say.

“Okay.”

I stand and wait while Piper extracts herself from the stuff piled around her on the couch, the hot water bottle, remote control, book, her iPad, and whatever else she’s been amusing herself with.

If she comes to the kitchen now, Avery has to keep her distance.

And I won’t end up with Avery bent over the counter. I keep telling her, not with Piper around. I thought I made that clear.

When we return to the kitchen, Avery has already dished out the goulash and put the dishes on the table, along with the rice and sour cream.

Avery and I sit across from each other, and I fix my eyes on my food. She and Piper chat easily, again. How do they have so much to talk about?

“What about you, Knox?” Avery says.

“Huh?”

“What do you want to watch tonight?” Avery asks.

“I don’t care. Whatever you two want.” It’s not like they watch it anyway, they talk the whole time.

“Piper wants to watch another Law & Order, but I think we should have a change. Do you agree?” Avery asks.

“I would love to watch something other than Law & Order.”

“Good. Because so would I,” Avery turns to Piper. “Sorry, you’re outnumbered. No Law & Order tonight.”

“Then what are we going to watch?” Piper whines.

“How about something funny instead of crime?”

“What one?” Piper asks, her nose wrinkled in annoyance. She doesn’t like sitcoms, says there’s no point to them. I keep telling her the point is to relax and laugh.

“You might not have heard of it. We can watch it now on Hulu,” Avery says, shifting her eyes to me.

“What is it?” I ask. This’ll be worse than Law & Order.

“Community. Have you seen it?”

“Of course we have, it’s Dad’s favorite show. Isn’t it Dad?”

“All right, now you’re talking,” I say with enthusiasm, surprised by this bacon-eating, good-show-watching sex goddess sitting at my table. Except I can’t even fucking touch her, even though she’s gagging for me.

The two of them talk about their favorite episodes while we finish eating. I even join in, telling them my favorites and quoting lines. It’s nice actually, the three of us sitting here laughing like this.

When we’re finished eating, Piper says, “I’ll go set it up and put it on the Civil War episode.”

“Good idea,” I say, and she gets up and skips out of the kitchen.

“I’ll help you do the dishes,” Avery says, standing.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do it,” I say, wanting her out of the room.

“I insist. The goulash was really delicious, I’m impressed you made it yourself.”

“Why? You don’t think a man can cook?”

“That’s not what I meant.” She looks at me, her lips pursed and I know what she’s thinking. It’s not men, it’s me.

“I have a lot of talents you haven’t seen yet,” I say, putting the dishes in the dishwasher as she passes them to me.

“Yeah, so you keep saying. But right now, it’s all talk. When are you going to start showing me them?”

I swallow hard, she must be taunting me. Toying with me because she knows I won’t do a damn thing with Piper in the house. I’d have to resist her, even if she stripped naked right this second.

Fuck, there’s no way I could resist that.

We tidy the rest of the kitchen in silence, moving quickly without bumping into each other.

When we’re finished, I follow Avery into the living room, not even trying to pull my eyes off her ass. Piper is sitting in the armchair, the remote control in her hand.

“Hey, get out of my chair,” I say.

“But, Dad, I’ve been sitting on the couch all day, I need a change.”

“Then sit on the floor.”

I stand beside the chair, ready to haul her out of it if she doesn’t move. There’s no way in fucking hell I’m sitting on the couch with Avery. A man only has so much self control.

Piper gets the message and moves to the couch. I plunk down on the chair, my eyes on Avery as she gets herself comfortable beside Piper.

We watch six entire episodes of Community, six episodes of me trying not be distracted by her, before Avery takes the remote and switches to the news channel.

“I haven’t seen the news all day,” she says.

“It’s boring. Let’s watch something else,” Piper complains.

“No way, you’ve controlled the TV all day, it’s my turn now,” Avery says.

“You don’t even live here.”

“I’m the guest, and that’s even more reason to let me choose.” Piper’s not going to like that, I always let her choose.

For a few minutes, we watch the newswoman talking about the economy, complete with charts and graphs.

Piper’s eyes glaze over, and she says, “I’m tired anyway, I’m going to bed.”

“Good night, sweetheart,” I say.

“Night, Piper, I hope you feel brave enough to go to school in the morning,” Avery says. Amen to that.

“See you in the morning,” Piper says as she runs up the stairs.

We watch the news, mindlessly. At eleven, Avery lifts the remote and says, “What do you want to watch now?” Her voice is husky and dripping with want.

“Why are you still here? We said no relationship.”

“This isn’t anything to do with a relationship. Trust me. I was here for Piper, and now we’re just hanging out.”

I lean over and whisper, “Bullshit. You’re trying to tempt me. With Piper right in the house.”

Her eyebrows shoot up and her eyes widen, “I’m trying to tempt you? You’re the one who’s been trying to tempt me all night. Don’t think I don’t notice you staring at me, undressing me with your eyes. I’m amazed my top didn’t melt under the heat coming from your eyes.”

As silently as I can, I move from the chair to the couch, sitting myself beside her. Too close to her, but I can’t help myself.

I lower my voice and say, “I don’t deny I’ve been thinking about your lips wrapped around my cock.”

A light moan comes out of her throat, and she says, “I’ve been thinking about your lips somewhere, too.”

“Shame you’re a screamer, or I’d explore you with my mouth right here, right now.”

“What about Piper?” she asks, her voice a gasp.

I feel like a teenager with a date downstairs that I don’t want my parents to know I sneaked into the house.

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” I say, and cup her cheek with my rough hand.

It goes against everything I’ve ever promised myself about Piper, but fuck me, Avery is too much to resist.

Avery

My cheek tingles under Knox’s touch, creating a blossom of heat between my legs. My breath is quick, and I’m not sure where this is going.

I mean, we can’t, Piper’s upstairs.

That was his rule. Now he’s the one breaking it.

Still holding my cheek, Knox crushes his lips against mine with no apologies. Our tongues explore each other, fueling my body with the need for more.

Feeling bold, I put my hand on his strong arms for the first time. My God, their hardness nearly dissolves my panties.

His arms are on my back, his hands run over me electrifying my skin. My hands move from his arms, across his broad back and around to his front. While our mouths are locked, I slip them under the bottom edge of his shirt and run them up his stomach.

This is insane. This man is too good to be true. I thought bodies like this only existed in the movies. I want to rip off our shirts and feel my skin against his. I want to crawl into bed with him for an entire week. There are so many things I want to do with him.

Knox kisses across my cheek, and says, “This is wrong. We have to stop.”

I trail my hand down the ripples of his stomach, and rest it lightly against his cock. He’s still in his track pants from this morning, and it strains against the fabric, as hard as the rest of his body.

He makes no attempt to move my hand, and I inch towards the waistband. Slipping my hand underneath, he groans as my hand starts to explore his full, thick length.

He throws his head back and say, “We have to stop. This was wrong, having you here tonight.”

“I thought you said she was a heavy sleeper.”

Knox clamps his hand on my wrist and pulls my hand out from his pants. “It’s too risky.”

“You’re right,” I say, trying to push away from him. But he doesn’t let go.

“Do you have any idea how bad I want your lips on my cock? Especially while you’re wearing that blouse.”

“That would lead places. Loud places,” I say, my hand pressed against his chest.

“It doesn’t have to lead anywhere. It’s an end to itself.”

“It does, I can’t stop there. Why don’t we go to my house? She’s fine here. Or your garage.” I hope I don’t sound as pathetic as I feel, begging him like this.

Knox shakes his head. “Not tonight. Unless, of course, you want to suck my dick. Because I would be powerless to say no to that.”

“We’re in this for itch scratching, remember? I have a big itch, and that wouldn’t scratch it,” I say, needing more.

“Your lips and that blouse, it’s all I could think about at dinner,” Knox says, relaxing his hold on me.

“This is crazy. Yesterday morning you didn’t even want to know me. And now this.”

“I absolutely wanted you yesterday. You’ve been hiding in your house all week, remember?”

“Trust me, I have a lot of regret over that.”

“So do I. I should’ve knocked on your door that day you were at your window, begging me to come help you out.”

I’m past caring about the embarrassment, and wish he’d come like he said. I wish we’d started this the first day I’d moved in. Why wasn’t he more welcoming in the first place?

“You’re really sending me home to my power tools?”

“Yes. You should’ve gone hours ago. What were you doing hanging around here for?”

“I was waiting for this.”

Knox crushes his lips against mine, lighting me on fire all over again. I don’t want this to end.

A moan flies from my throat, and he pulls away.

“We’re going to wake Piper up. Go. I’ll come see you in the morning.”

Before I can protest, Knox stands and walks into the kitchen, leaving me alone in the living room. He’s right. I know he’s right, but I really, really don’t want to leave.

I sit for a minute, letting my body calm. It’s apparent Knox isn’t coming back, and I grab my keys and go home.

Even though things didn’t go very far, when I get in bed every second of his touch plays on an endless repeat in my mind. For some reason, I don’t have any desire to get my Xtreme Buzz or even to touch myself. Nothing other than him would be satisfying.

In the morning, I get right to work and check my videos for feedback and for numbers of views, making notes on which ones are most popular. The goal is to do more of them, to give the people what they want, so they watch and my mortgage gets paid.

I get a text from Darla, telling me she’ll be here by lunchtime. I’ve neglected her visit, and now rush around trying to prepare the futon in my third bedroom, the guest room, for her.

The dusty rose wallpaper is going to kill her, since she’s so trendy. I wouldn’t put it past her to rip it off and slap on a coat of paint this weekend.

Around nine, my doorbell rings. I open the door. Knox is standing there, clean shaven and wearing jeans. His eyes are narrowed.

“Is Piper at school?” I ask.

“No, she’s watching Law & Order and eating Cheerios. I’m here to give you what you wouldn’t give me, because we don’t have much time.”

As he speaks, he backs me up into my living room, straight onto my couch.

Before I fully understand what’s happening, I’m lying on my back, and he’s yanking my pants off.

Knox doesn’t kiss me. Nor does he say anything else. He plants his mouth firmly on my mound without warning, and I flood with all the want and desire I’d had on his couch last night.

His tongue roves through my now slick folds, and my pulse races. He pushes my thighs further apart, and I melt into the couch.

The tip of his tongue connects with my clit, forcing a moan from my mouth. He circles his tongue around my clit and I grab his head on reflex while heat explodes in my pussy.

Knox’s fingers push through my folds and through my wet entrance. He’s rough, and makes no effort to be gentle as he works them against my most tender spot. At the same time, he pushes and sucks and brutalizes my clit with his mouth.

I forget to breathe.

I forget where I am.

I forget my name.

My body tightens and tenses. Knox grunts, the noise enough to tip me over the edge and I scream. An enormous orgasm rips through me, and my body dissolves into a quivering mess.

“I fucking knew it,” Knox says, his breath hot on my mound.

“Knew what?” It takes all my effort to push the words out of my mouth.

“I could make you scream in under three minutes.”

Three minutes? Was that all that was? It seemed like at least twenty.

“I have to get back.” Knox stands, locks his eyes on mine while he licks his fingers, and leaves.

I can’t move. My body is a ball of jelly. I lie motionless, naked from the waist down. Was that really three minutes? It takes at least fifteen before I can stand and put my pants back on.

Two cups of coffee later, I’m in my fake bedroom and ready to work. It feels so good to be energized about my vlog again. I am no longer a nun dishing out sex advice. I dress, do my hair and make-up and hit record.

“Usually I tell you guys about the importance of foreplay, and how a woman needs it. But sometimes there’s nothing wrong with taking your woman hard and fast. And it can be just as satisfying for her as all the foreplay in the world. But, and this is a big but, you have to do it right. You have to know what you’re doing.”

I continue talking, but all I’m thinking about is how Knox wasn’t lying when he said he knows what he’s doing. As satisfied as I am right now, I want more.

Knox

I’m sitting in my bedroom, my hard cock in my hand. I needed this while Avery’s taste is still in my mouth, while her scent still fills my nostrils.

While the sound of her radio voice moaning and screaming because of me is still fresh in my ears.

This wasn’t part of the plan. Our arrangement was supposed to mean an end to me stroking myself while thinking about her. My cock should be buried in her right now.

I didn’t want to abandon Piper for a booty call next door. Somehow that doesn’t seem like good parenting. But I couldn’t help myself this morning. I gave myself five minutes to run next door, because I used up all my self control last night.

It won’t happen again.

But with Piper home today, and tomorrow and Sunday to get through, I don’t know how I’m going to make it until Monday. There’s something about that woman I can’t resist.

This has moved beyond wanting to hear her voice calling out for me. Even beyond the need to see those full lips on me.

Maybe it’s the way she reached in my pants and grabbed my cock last night. She’s bold as fuck, and I wonder what else she’d surprise me with.

I close my eyes and remember the feeling of her delicate hand on my shaft, stroking me. My back muscles shudder and relax as I spill my load in my hand.

After I clean myself up, I head back downstairs. With Piper being home yesterday, I didn’t get as much work done as I need to. It looks like it’ll be the same again today.

My business partner Marcus is already hassling me with text messages. He wants to get started on the body work for the Corvette, there’s damage in the back and another gouge in the passenger door.

I poke my head in the living room, and ask, “Everything okay in here?”

“Can you refill my hot water bottle?” Piper asks.

“Sure,” I say and walk into the room and take it from her.

After refilling it with hot water in the kitchen, I take it to Piper.

“Thanks, Dad,” she says as I hand it to her.

“No problem. Anything else?”

“Is Avery coming today?”

A smile springs onto my face, and I think to myself, ‘she already has.’ Out loud, I say “I don’t know.”

“I hope she does. It’s so awesome having her here, don’t you think? It was so much fun having dinner with her. Can she have dinner here more often?”

“We’ll see,” I say, knowing it’s a bad idea.

If Avery is going to keep having this effect on me, it’s best she doesn’t spend much time here. She’s too tempting, and I have to keep my daughter and my new fuck toy separate.

“She’s so awesome, and she’s always telling me how much she likes you. Did you know that? She thinks you’re really cool and loves hanging around with you.”

“I’ve got to get some work done, I’ll be in the garage if you need me.”

On autopilot, I walk through the house and into the garage. Did Avery really tell her those things? Not fucking likely. Avery made it clear she’s not my biggest fan. Though Piper’s right. Avery was great with her yesterday. And it was nice having her around in the evening, if only because she made Piper watch something other than Law & Order. Plus I got to listen to her laugh.

Having Avery here was easy, almost too easy. She’s lucky she tastes so fucking good, or I’d end this arrangement right now.

I work fast, to get this Corvette ready for Marcus. Every once in awhile, I stop to savor Avery’s taste. Occasionally there’s movement in her bedroom window, and I let my mind run with the idea of barging into her bedroom the way I barged into her living room.

My stomach rumbles, it’s getting near lunch. But there’s only one thing I want to eat.

“Wow, you must be Knox,” a woman says.

I stop what I’m doing and look up. A scrawny redhead with the biggest, curliest hair I’ve ever seen is standing two feet away, her hands on her hips, her eyes unashamed as they rake over me.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Darla, darling.”

“Okay, Darla, who the fuck are you?”

“Avery didn’t tell you I was coming to meet you? I’m hurt. When she told me she had a hottie living next door, I had to come see for myself.”

What the fuck?

“She did, did she?” I say, pissed.

“Yes, and I’ve heard all about your fuck-buddy status. I hope you’ve gotten yourself tested so she can enjoy you bare.”

What the fuck? I don’t say anything, but my mind springs to the idea of being bare inside Avery. It’s been so long since I haven’t used a condom. Fatherhood long. After becoming a father, when a woman told me she’s on the pill, I never fucking believed her. The last thing Piper needed was a sibling, it’s hard enough for me raising one, I couldn’t have a repeat.

Darla steps towards me, and squeezes my bicep. I glare at her with a stone face as I step away. Is this chick for real?

She walks over to the Corvette and runs her finger along the curve of the roof. “Nice car.”

“Uh huh,” I grunt. Why is she here?

“Avery’s got an IUD. You know, the IUD?” she says and turns to make eye contact with me, “Just saying. Get tested.”

What. The. Fuck. Did Avery put her up to this?

“Don’t you have to see Avery or something?”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m seeing Avery all right. She’s going to fill me in on all the little details,” Darla shifts her eyes to my crotch. “Or the big ones. I’ll find out, won’t I?”

I turn my back on her and stick my head under the hood.

“Nice fucking ass. Avery hit the jackpot with you.”

I clear my throat, she needs to get the fuck out of here.

“I can picture you pumping away with it,” Darla says, and spanks me.

Bile fills me and my nostrils flare. This chick needs to leave. Now. And never touch me or talk to me again. I keep my head under the hood and ignore her.

“Darla! I thought I heard you out my window,” Avery says.

Leaving the sanctity of my engine, I stand to my full height. Avery’s jogging down my driveway. My eyes are drawn by her tits bouncing, and I wish I had a longer driveway.

“Hey, babe,” Darla squeals, and they hug.

“What’re you doing here? My driveway’s on the other side,” Avery says.

“I came to introduce myself to this fine specimen of a man you’re hooking up with.”

My dick twitches at the idea of hooking up with Avery. Right now it feels like it’s never going to happen.

“Silly, you’re supposed to let me introduce you,” Avery says.

“No way, you’d take too long and never get around to it. Plus I had to tell him to get tested, because you probably wouldn’t even think of that.”

Avery blushes and she looks over at me, her eyes wide.

“What else did you tell him?”

“Not much, I just got here. I haven’t had the chance yet to tell him you like a man who takes charge, and that your last boyfriend was too lame to deliver on the goods.” Darla turns to me and says, “You can do whatever you want to this one, if you know what I mean.”

My lips curl into a smile. The idea of fucking Avery just keeps getting better and better. Monday is going to be a fun day, if I can last that long.

Avery

Once again, I want the earth to open and swallow me whole. Why does this happen around Knox?

Though anything with Darla involved is going to lead to all sorts of things. Why does she do these things to me?

My cheeks hurt from burning with embarrassment. I can’t even look at Knox.

“Come on,” I say, taking Darla’s hand and dragging her down the driveway.

“Toodles,” she says to Knox, over her shoulder.

“Stop bugging him.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said he was a dick.”

“Yeah, so don’t make it even worse for me. But he’s not actually a dick when you get to know him. He’s just hard to get to know.”

Why am I defending him? Just because he gave me a mind-blowing visit this morning.

I open my door, and we step into my house.

“Here we are, my very own house. Want a tour?” I ask.