Leslie was still shaking. For the first time, she had peered through the fence seeing the neighbors have sex by their pool and now Marcia was inviting her over for dinner.
What did Robert Frost write in his poem? Good fences make good neighbors?
She fumbled through her lingerie drawer, chose a mauve-colored thong, and slipped it up her thighs. Bra? No bra? Who cared? Grabbing a sporty dress was perfect for after swimming and wearing next door to the home of a couple where the wife had spread her legs and —
Her phone vibrated. Mark. She let it go to voicemail.
Leslie scolded herself for overthinking, was glad her husband was on his business and golf adventure for a few days and made her way next door.
The neighbors up and down the street were friendly but few people ever paid attention to each other. And almost no one got together, so no one really knew each other.
Marcia and Rory had lived next door for a few years, but this was the first time that Leslie would step inside their house.
Leslie knocked and Marcia answered, opening the door and ushering Leslie inside. “So glad you came over.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” Leslie replied, scanning the house with a dining table off to the left. A translucent wall screened the kitchen, and she could glimpse the sight of someone busy. Must be Rory.
To the right was a living area with a sofa. Leslie noticed a rather large cage, but she had never heard a barking dog.
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