Their neighbor, Sarah

Jordan's heart pounded; he tugged the pink sundress down frantically, the thigh-high stockings shifting against his legs. Elena looked at Jordan, her smirk returning.

"Stay here if you want, but… it might be fun to play along. Your call, Joanne."

"No way," he hissed, his face flaming as he tugged the dress down, the stockings clinging tightly to his thighs. "I'm going to hide in the guest room."

Elena chuckled, heading for the foyer. "Suit yourself." He slipped into the downstairs guest bedroom, easing the door shut just as the front door creaked open, followed by a familiar laugh—Sarah, the vibrant neighbor Elena had mentioned in passing. Jordan had never met her; he'd only heard Elena describe her as "the yoga mom with a killer body, and killer cookies." Now, in this sundress and loose waves, the thought of her seeing him made his heart race.

From the top of the stairs, he listened, his pink ballet flats silent on the carpet.

"Hey, Elena!" Sarah's voice was bright, warm. "I baked too many cookies—thought you and your husband might want some. Is he around?"

Elena's response was smooth, laced with mischief. "Jordan's on a quick consulting trip to Singapore. Should be back in a few days, but who knows?"

Jordan's eyes widened. Singapore?

"But come in! I have someone I'd like you to meet."

"Joanne!" Elena called, her tone playful but firm. "Come say hi to Sarah!"

Panic gripped him. He pressed deeper into the guest room, the sundress rustling against the bedspread. No way was he going out there. But Elena's voice left no room for retreat.

Taking a shaky breath, he cracked the door, peeked out, and—seeing the coast clear—padded silently into the living room, the sundress swishing audibly, the stockings muffling his steps.

His face burned as he entered the living room, where Sarah stood holding a plate of chocolate chip cookies, her curly blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail, her yoga-toned figure radiating energy.

"Oh my goodness!" Sarah gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her blue eyes widening with delight. "Who is this angel? She's absolutely adorable!"

She set the cookies on the coffee table and approached, her warmth overwhelming. "Look at you in that dress—it's so beautiful! And those waves!" Her gaze flicked to the framed portrait on the wall—Jordan and Elena on their wedding day—then back to him.

"You must be Jordan's younger sister, right? I can see the family resemblance."

Jordan stammered, trapped in the role.

"H-hi," he managed, his high-pitched voice reinforcing the illusion. The sundress felt constricting under Sarah's gaze, the stockings a constant reminder of his predicament. He stood awkwardly, hands clasped in front of the dress, rose nails gleaming, as Elena watched, sipping water, her amusement barely contained. Her green eyes sparkled with a heat that made Jordan's pulse quicken—she was enjoying this, her arousal evident in the subtle way she bit her lip, her fingers tightening around the glass.

"Yes, Joanne is Jordan's sister, she is spending a few days with us." Elena said, her eyes twinkling. "She'll be starting college in the fall at Pace University. She got caught up in the festival chaos today, that's why she is a little flustered."

Sarah nodded, her smile softening. "Oh, you poor dear. That must've been overwhelming. Pace? That's nice. My twins Mia and Max are only nine and they'll be starting fifth grade soon. Mia would love chatting with you! That dress suits you perfectly, Joanne. And those stockings! So chic with the gloss." She reached out impulsively, patting his shoulder gently. The touch was innocent, friendly, but it sent a jolt through him, amplifying his humiliation. His cheeks flushed crimson, and he shifted uncomfortably, the sundress's hem riding up slightly against the cushions.

Elena perched on the armrest, her hand resting casually on Jordan's shoulder, her thumb tracing a subtle circle that only he could feel—a teasing reminder of their interrupted moment. Her breath quickened slightly as she watched Sarah engage him, her arousal building from the sight of Jordan so ****, so convincingly Joanne under Sarah's gaze.

Sarah, oblivious, chatted easily, assuming Joanne was a shy young woman.

"Tell me about yourself, Joanne. Do you like baking? These cookies are my secret recipe—oats and extra chocolate chips for that chewy goodness." She offered him one, her eyes kind and encouraging. Jordan took it with trembling fingers, mumbling a thank you, his voice sealing the ruse. For the next hour, Sarah lingered, the conversation flowing into neighborhood gossip—the best parks in Dobbs Ferry, the upcoming neighborhood picnic, her yoga classes. She treated Jordan like a young women, asking about favorite hobbies and even suggested few places she could visit to have some "fun".

Elena encouraged it, her smirk hidden behind her water glass, her free hand occasionally brushing Jordan's thigh under the pretense of comfort, sending sparks through the sundress's fabric. Jordan's mind reeled—humiliation washing over him in waves—yet beneath it, Elena's proximity fueled a **** thrill, her arousal palpable in her heated glances.

Finally, Sarah glanced at her watch.

"Goodness, I've overstayed! But this was lovely. You should come over for dinner tomorrow night. The twins would love to meet you, and my husband James makes a mean lasagna. It'd be a great way to welcome you to the neighborhood."

Jordan's mind reeled, his throat tight.

"Uh, I don't know…" he mumbled, but Sarah's warmth stirred something.

Elena's hand brushed Jordan's shoulder, her fingers pressing lightly—a silent command—as she smiled at Sarah.