Male neighbour

Emma’s breath caught in her throat the moment she recognised him.

No… anyone but him.

Trevor Morris. Forty-ish, balding, with a beer-belly and that permanently smug grin that always made her skin crawl. He lived four doors down from them in the village and always had some crude comment ready whenever she passed him in the street. Mark clearly recognised him too, she felt his posture stiffen and his knuckles went white gripping the steering wheel.

Trevor paused beside the bench, frowning slightly as he looked down at the envelope. Then, after a quick glance around, he bent over and picked it up. The envelope dangled from his fingers for a moment… and then he casually tore it open.

Emma’s entire body tensed.

Trevor pulled out the top photograph, the one Mark had taken of her kneeling naked on the living-room carpet. For a second he simply stared. His eyes narrowed, confused, he brought the picture closer to his face.

Emma pressed her back against the car seat, horrified. “Oh God,” she whispered. “He’s actually”

Mark didn’t respond. His eyes narrowed and were fixed on Trevor.

Trevor pulled out another photo Emma bending forward over the edge of the bed, fully exposed. His mouth twitched into a slow, filthy grin. He glanced up from the photo and looked around the car park, as if trying to see whether somebody was watching him. Then he looked back down again, studying the image with a look of dawning recognition on his face.

Emma’s stomach turned.

He knows.

She could see it on his face the exact moment the realisation struck. His grin widened. He raised the photograph slightly, squinting toward the cars as though looking for her.

Emma’s pulse hammered in her ears. “Mark… he’s going to— someone’s going to see—”

She trailed off, only just realising that her hand had drifted to Mark’s lap. His jeans were already tented she could feel his cock swelling beneath the denim. Almost without thinking, she gave it a slow, steady squeeze.

Mark exhaled sharply, jaw clenched.

Trevor was now holding up two photos side by side, openly grinning as he compared them. A pair of teenage lads (both clearly older than eighteen in their supermarket uniforms) walked past behind him and did a double-take at the images. Trevor didn’t even attempt to hide what he was holding. Instead, he chuckled and gave one of the boys a nod as if inviting him to look more closely.

Emma’s thighs pressed together. A shock of shame shot through her, she shouldn’t feel like this, not while that sleazy bastard waved her pictures around in public , but her fingers squeezed harder around Mark’s cock and a soft, barely audible moan escaped her lips.

Mark’s breath hitched. a look of pain on his face, but didn't remove Emma's hand from his tortured cock.

Trevor folded the photos back into the envelope, tucking it under his arm… but not leaving. He lit a cigarette and leaned casually back against the trolley rail, envelope still tucked in the crook of one elbow — as though he intended to wait and show someone else.

Emma could hardly breathe. Part of her wanted to sink through the seat in embarrassment and tell Mark to drive away immediately.

Another part of her wanted him to stay and watch.