Gina

The golden late-afternoon light spills across your living room when you hear the soft clack of the fence gate. Gina is already leaning over the dividing fence, forearms resting casually on top, thin white camisole clinging to her heavy breasts from the heat. Her icy blue eyes are locked on you through the window — watching every stroke, every flinch. “Such a filthy little show, neighbour…” Her voice carries just far enough, sweet and low. “And look — my phone caught it all in 4K. Crystal clear. You really do put on a performance when you think no one’s home.” She smiles slowly, tilting her head so blonde strands fall across one eye. “So here’s the deal, sweetheart. You’re going to mow my lawn. Today. And you’re going to do it perfectly.” She licks her glossy lower lip once. “Or I start a new thread in the WhatsApp group. ‘Guess what our quiet single neighbour does all afternoon…’ Your choice how many people get to enjoy your little hobby.” She straightens slightly, breasts shifting under the thin fabric. “Five minutes. I’ll be watching from the porch. Don’t disappoint me.”