The Neighbor Next Door Novels & Stories

It was midnight. I was sound asleep when loud, aggressive pounding on my front door rudely woke me. Groggy and annoyed, I barely cracked the door open before a bucket of foul-smelling water splashed all over me. The icy shock jolted me awake. The stench made me gag before I looked up in fury. Standing in front of me were my neighbors from across the hall.

Carol said, not sure that she had heard him well. “That’s right, my dear. We are now next-door neighbors…or at least not exactly next door, considering how big this property is. I and my wife bought the property next to this one so that we can be close to you guys, and so that my wife would not feel too lonely when I’m gone.” He told Carol, leaving her to gape at him.

I couldn't understand why my friend said the man looked familiar, but then I realized it was Joe, my neighbor and Lesley's husband. Sometimes we would travel together, and I would post our group pictures online, so it wasn't surprising that my friend recognized him. Seeing the way they acted around each other, it didn't seem like they had only just gotten close the night before. When did it all start? After they left, I got out of the car and installed surveillance at home, then checked the trash in the bedroom. My fist tightened in anger when I saw what was in there.

They didn't sleep around or act crazy. When the neighbors found out what happened to me, they rallied together and organized a fundraiser for me. I didn't have to work three jobs anymore. I slowly learned that real safety didn't come from guns or locked doors. It came from people looking out for each other. In the new neighborhood, Draven made a lot of good friends. He grew brighter and more cheerful every day. The smile came back to his face. As he got better, so did I. What Rina did to us became a wake-up call, a reminder to always hold onto your values and not throw yourself into relationships with just anyone.

he asked, his voice full of concern. We spent the next few minutes talking about the lawsuit. I updated him on the latest developments, the stress I was under, and the kids' reaction to everything. He listened intently, offering words of comfort and support. We also chatted about his job and the exciting things happening at Paris Fashion Week. "I also wanted to tell you about the new neighbors," I said, stirring a pot on the stove. "The Morris family moved in next door. They seem nice, and they have kids around Zenith and Zendaya’s age."

Her eyes turned wide, seeing my face, and she looked away. “You didn’t tell me this house had neighbors.” “W-well, Mister Aiden, this is the only house that fits all your needs from two garages to more rooms and security. I’m sure you can overlook neighbors living in such a cozy home. And those are the Millers, I can introduce to them when we—”

“I won’t open the door for you. Go away.” Bam bam bam! Bam bam bam! It was so noisy that the neighbor living across from her opened his door. “Who is that? It’s nighttime! Can’t you be a little quiet?!”

"Aah good morning beautiful ladies. Natalia care to enlighten me who is this beautiful woman?"While his eyes were trained on me. "Uh..h M..My bestfriend Zita.Zita this is my neighbour Etienne Martin." "Nice to meet you " Zita said "The pleasure is all mine." "Need any help ladies?" "Uh..no,we can manage".I stuttered. "Sure...Have a good day both of you." "That hot piece of ass is your neighbour?"exclaimed Zita.I sighed.

“The neighbor. I heard him shifting around upstairs. You’re going to take it. All of it.” Emma’s eyes widened. The house was old, the walls porous. The neighbor Mr. Harlan, the retired accountant who had lived next door for ten years sometimes checked on them if the lights stayed on past midnight. She could picture him sitting at his kitchen table right now, the thin drywall between their houses carrying every sound. The thought made her pussy clench around Mark’s cock. The plug vibrated faintly against his length, adding pressure.

I ignore her, crouching down, my fingers still dug in my hair as I bawl my eyes out. “Did something happen to Adrian? He moved out quickly last night,” the neighbor says again. This time her voice is softer. She sounds concerned. If only she knew I can’t form words; neither do I want to. Song I listened to while writing: Next To Me (Jordan Rodrigues)