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" I didn't know to say. I felt so embarrassed I just stood mute in hopes he would dismiss himself and go away. Forever! "Don't think I didn't notice you eyeing my cock this morning. What were you thinking? I'd like to know. Tell me." I hung my red-faced head low and uttered, "Nothing. I was just... just... conflicted." "Conflicted? That sounds interesting. Conflicted about what?" he asked. I didn't reply. I felt small, cheap and exposed. "If we're going to be good neighbors, we have to be honest with each other." He untied his robe and opened it wide, exposing himself to me. "Is this what you're 'conflicted' about?" He swayed his hips enough to swing his cock like church bells before a mass. "I think you should go now," I said as I returned with his cup half-filled with cream, averting my eyes from his slowly growing cock. "I don't think that'll be fair to either of us," he said as he opened his robe and let his robe to the floor. What the fuck was he doing! "Put the cream down and. Like rug burns. I lean over—my cock is in my daughter—and ask if she's on the pill. She says no, not anymore. It gives her...psoriasis. Something like that.I fuck her anyway. I decide...I don't give a shit at this point. People are applauding. We're on a wooden stage. In the park. I cum. That's what they've come for. We rise. We bow. They applaud. Our knees are stained green, as if with paint. I look over at my daughter's naked body. It's just like her mother's, 25 years before. Slightly bigger tits, but...The sky is raining something. I raise my face, open my mouth to it. I'm parched after the performance. It tastes like cream. Not cream, cum. Not cum but creamer. The powdered stuff. I begin to choke. A jetliner flies over, just above the trees. I know in my heart it's about to crash. We—I awake. It's a Wednesday. I'm pretty sure. Green Market day. The stalls will be filled with brightly colored vegetables from upstate. I look over at the two sleeping women beside me. My daughter.
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