The new neighbor

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Gloria Benson had two itches she couldn't satisfy. One of those itches was all too familiar, a hot melting sensation in her pussy that told her she needed a man. The other itch was more vague, a longing to be Somebody, to belong to the rich and glamorous clique of young couples in her new neighborhood.

Gloria was sunning herself on that warm October day in Los Angeles or pretending to sun herself. She kept glancing into the next yard where a cocktail party and barbecue was going on. She wished desperately that she'd been invited. She wanted to be part of that glamorous crowd of laughing couples. And besides, there were hordes of handsome and sexy men over there.

"Dammit," Gloria muttered to herself, "why won't they even say hello to me?"

Since her divorce six months ago, Gloria had been looking for a posh neighborhood to move into, and at last she'd found it. Her former husband, Eddie, was a millworker and a very nice guy, but he'd never been able to give Gloria anything but cheap apartments and little crackerbox houses. They'd been nobodies. When they divorced, Gloria had been determined to make her way to the top of the social scene.

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