The Party Girl

Zoe

“Zoe!” a voice shouted from the other side of my bedroom door. I refused to answer and focused on my release. Alex, my weed dealer, was currently going down on me with much gusto, and I’d be damned if I let whoever was at the door fuck this up for me.

Alex and I had an arrangement. He delivered my weed to me and then he’d eat my pussy in exchange for ten dollars off the bud. It was a pretty one-sided arrangement if you asked me, but Alex was a crazy-ass white boy who obviously loved to eat my cat, so I guess he would say the same thing if you asked him. He was the one who came up with the terms, so I guess I had no choice but to respect it.

“Zoe, there was some old ass white guy here looking for you. He may have been a cop!” Alex began to pull back, but I tightened my thighs around his head.

“Don’t stop,” I warned.

“Z, the cops are here, and I’m holding. Let go,” Alex fussed. I sighed loudly as I released him from the crushing weight of my thighs. “Don’t be mad. Same time next week?” he asked.

“Of course,” I purred as his lips met mine. “Kissing is not in the arrangement, Lex,” I warned.

“Well, I think we should renegotiate the terms. I don’t do this with just anyone, you know.”

“So, you want me to believe that you’re only fooling around with me?”

“Currently, yeah.”

“For someone who is trying to outrun the cops, you sure are sticking around doing a lot of talking,” I reminded him.

“Right. I’ll call you later,” Alex said as he unlocked my bedroom door and closed it behind him. I sighed, looking at the ceiling in my new house, and asked my grandparents for the strength to handle whatever mess was happening downstairs. I used the bathroom and freshened up while thinking of ways to charm myself out of this sticky situation. The flashing blue and red lights outside my window put a little pep in my step. I grabbed my bullhorn and my French Bulldog, English, flounced down the steps and signaled for the DJ to cut the music.

“Attention, everyone! The cops are here, and you will have to clear the fuck out right now!” I was almost trampled in a stampede of people trying to book it out of the house before the cops checked IDs and they received a MIP. I struggled through the sea of fleeing people and made it to the backyard, and delivered the same warning. I peered out the window and only saw one cop car with one dazed-looking cop standing outside of it, and I knew I could take him.

I stood on the porch and seductively smiled at the young officer as he approached. “Good evening, ma’am. We received a noise complaint. Are you the owner?” he skeptically asked.

“Yes, sir. I closed on it yesterday and moved in today,” I beamed.

“Nice house for a 19-year-old,” he whistled.

Oh, he tried it.

“22-year-old,” I lied, hoping he didn’t ID me because I was only 20, but saying I was 21 would be too obvious.

“Wow, you must do well for yourself.”

“I wish that were the case. My grandparents recently passed away and left me a considerable amount of money. I decided to invest it in a home. Cheaper than paying for rent, am I right?” I giggled.

“Right you are.”

“I’m sorry, you said you received a noise complaint? What is the noise ordinance for the county?” I asked feigning ignorance. I wanted to hear it coming out of his mouth.

“Um, 10:30, ma’am,” he confessed.

“Whew, I’m thankful I dodged that citation seeing how it’s only 8:30, but message received, dial it back. May I ask who complained?”

The officer scratched the back of his head and motioned towards the house directly across the street from me, where I saw some white dude watching everything go down from the cover of his porch.

Snitchin’ ass bitch.

“Oh geez, maybe I should apologize to him, Officer...Matheson,” I read from his name tag. “I’ll immediately get to work cleaning up the front yard and the trash from the street. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?” I seductively whispered.

“Not tonight, but I’ll be back tomorrow to check on the cleanup progress,” he grinned.

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” I said with a wink, causing him to blush lightly. Officer Matheson turned to leave, and I immediately mean-mugged my neighbor and dragged the tip of my thumb across my neck before shooting him the double bird. I smiled in satisfaction once he scrambled into his house.

Nah, son, I’m nowhere near done with you.

I waved to the officer and plastered a smile on my face that was as big as the state I lived in as he drove off. He was completely ignorant to the fact that I was going to hem up my nosy neighbor.

“English, stay here. Mommy has to go and handle some business,” I told my Frenchie, setting him back in the house.

I tried to hop around the stickiness on the hardwood floors from the spilled Four Lokos.

Who the hell even drinks those anymore? They smell ghastly, and they taste like chemicals. From now on, they will absolutely be banned from ever entering my home.

I marched across the street, kicking beer cans out of my way, and found myself at Noise Complaint Ned’s front door. I knocked several times and became frustrated when I saw him peeking out the blinds at me, refusing to open the door.

“You know I can see you, right? How embarrassing for you to be hiding from a girl!” I shouted through the door.

He angrily wrenched the door open and glared at me, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Good evening. My name is Zoe Justice, and I’m your new neighbor,” I grinned as I extended my hand. He nervously eyed my outstretched hand but accepted it once he gained the ill-formed impression that I meant him no harm.

“I’m Elijah Parker,” he gruffly responded.

He wasn’t a bad-looking guy by any means. He looked to be in his early to mid-thirties, and he stood a good six inches over my 5′3 frame. He had the bluest eyes with a head full of brunette hair and copper facial hair. He had thin pink lips, but you could still grab onto them. I could tell he had an athletic build underneath his form-fitting dress shirt, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see more.

“Now that the niceties are out of the way...what the fuck, man?!” I yelled, causing him to jump slightly. “You didn’t have to call the cops on me like a fucking narc!”

“Look, Miss Justice, it’s unfortunate that we had to meet under these circumstances, but you have to realize that your little party over there was inappropriate for this neighborhood, and the music was entirely too loud.”

“Look, Mr. Parker,” I sassed back. “The only unfortunate thing about the situation is that you’re ignorant of your county’s laws. The noise ordinance states that there should be no excessive noise after 10:30, which is a little less than two hours from now,” I spat.

“Listen here, you little self-entitled bitch. I don’t give a good got damn what the noise ordinance states. I work too damn long and too damn hard to have to come home and deal with this shit. You’re new here, and we don’t do this shit in this neighborhood, so it seems like you’re the one that needs to get with the program, and until you do, I’ll call every...single...time.”

“Bet,” I smirked.

“Bet?” he parroted.

“You take care, Mr. Parker. Stay safe in these streets,” I grinned as I retreated down the stairs and made my way to my lovely abode.

***

I spent the next four hours cleaning my house and the street of the litter and debris. Mr. Parker’s lights had gone out two hours ago, and I was more than certain he had long succumbed to fatigue. Dressed in all black, I snuck across the street and entered his backyard.

He should really consider locking his fence. He doesn’t live in suburbia, and some crazed maniac, i.e., myself, could easily gain access to his backyard and find an unlocked window to climb into.

Earlier, I noticed Elijah didn’t have a security sign posted in the front yard, leading me to believe he didn’t own one.

He should probably get one of those, too.

I maneuvered the first floor, careful not to bump into anything. He had the light on over the gas range, so I could easily maneuver through the kitchen to the living room, where a lamp was still on. I was amazed by the massive television that took up the entire wall and gathered that he was a devout cinephile from the rows and rows of DVDs and VHS and the framed movie posters on the wall.

I tiptoed up the carpeted stairs, thankful they weren’t hardwood and wouldn’t creak underneath my weight. I found his bedroom at the end of the hall and peeked into the slightly cracked door. He slept on his back with the covers down to his waist, and I’m not gonna lie...I took a minute to ogle him. I was right about that athletic build. He had firm pecs, solid arms, and more than decent abs.

Dare I pull down the cover to see what he’s working with?

Elijah loudly snored, and I doubted he was that light of a sleeper. I pulled the sheet up and took a peek. I was not disappointed. Well, I was because he was wearing boxer briefs, but I had seen enough to know that if Elijah weren’t a dick, I would throw it at him. I almost felt bad for what I was about to him, but that self-entitled bitch comment came to the forefront of my mind, sealing his unfortunate fate.

I opened the bottle of baby oil and poured it on the floor. If the odds were in his favor, he would slip and land on his back, and if they weren't, he would slip, hit his head on the sink or the toilet, and die.

Good thing I’m wearing these gloves.

With that out of the way, I creepily stared at his unclothed body for a few more moments before bounding down the stairs. I brought some wasabi with me, hoping and praying Elijah had some guacamole in his fridge, and thank the heavens he did. I chuckled lowly to myself as I scooped half of the guacamole out and exchanged it with wasabi, and mixed it all together.

Damn, I wish I could be here to see the look on Elijah’s face when he took a big bite outta that!

I exited his home with the finesse of Catwoman and scurried back to my home. I peeled off my black bodysuit, slipped into bed with English, and dreamed about the $14.99 bottomless mimosas I would indulge in tomorrow.