Taking a Bow

Taking a Bow
Literary Erotica
by Lord Malinov

Kelly let the thin plastic handle of the grocery bag slip off her curled fingers, setting the loose bundle of canned tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, and bread settle down on her front step. She took the white envelope perched atop the dull brass door knob and after glancing at the handwritten scrawl, “Mrs. Stewart,” Kelly slipped the fold of paper into her back pocket. Twisting a key in the lock, she lifted the bag of food and wound her way into the kitchen of her home.

“Tonight, I think, we shall prepare one of my specialties, a little linguine in clam sauce,” Kelly said with an affected french accent as she put away the groceries, making her pronouncement to no one in particular. “Then, perhaps, I will perform a few numbers, nothing special, thank you, just something I’ve been working on and acknowledge the applause of my ardent fans.” Kelly flipped her long deeply yellow hair back as she wiped her pale brow. “So kind,” she said, laughing at herself.

Kelly pulled a bottle of Chardonnay from it’s resting place on the refrigerator shelf and popped the plastic stopper from the neck. Pulling a glass from the rack overhanging the butcher block island,

she poured herself a generous glass of the blush wine. Kelly wet her lips with a sip. “Very good, my good man,” she said, nodding to a ghostly waiter and then took a healthy swallow. “Just divine.” Unbuttoning her blue cotton shirt, Kelly pressed the cool glass into the deep valley between her lace brassiered breasts. “Magnifique,” she sighed.

The telephone rang and with a self-indulgent grin, Kelly answered the phone.

“Hello,” she said. Her light voice rang joyfully.

“Hey, Doll,” came the deep, alluring response.

“Bradford,” Kelly said, leaning over her tall kitchen chair, dangling her wine glass between two fingers. “You can’t call me today,” she chided.

“I don’t know why not.”

“William’s flying back this afternoon and what if he answered the phone?” Kelly turned to sit in the chair, propping her feet up on the table. “But I’m glad you called, anyway.” She tickled the slight bump of a dark nipple under the lace of her straining bra. “Tiger.”

“I loved every minute of this weekend.”

“You made a good husband,” Kelly said. “So well behaved.”

“So I passed my test?”

“No,” she said seriously. “That is to say, you passed the first part of the test. This is a multi-part exam.”

“Can I take a pop-quiz? I could be over in ten minutes.”

“Sorry, love. I don’t think that would be wise,” Kelly twirled the cord of her phone around her palm.

“Anyway. I wanted to remind you that I love you.”

“You’re such a dear, Bradford. I’ll be over tomorrow.”

Kelly hung up the phone with a sigh and finished her glass of wine in several swallows as she sashayed elegantly into the family room. “Oh, Bradford,” she said, slipping her shirt off her shoulders, “I would marry you, if you weren’t so desperately poor.” Kelly giggled at her sultry southern accent and unbuttoned her shorts. “You cannot expect a woman of my position to surrender so much luxury for the sake of your manly cock.” The denim fell slowly past her lean, tanned thighs. Kelly reached down to push the shorts off. She retrieved the envelope from her pocket and kicked the shorts onto the brick hearth.

The sun shone bright through the large picture window on the south wall of the room, bathing Kelly in light while the air conditioner poured cool air from a floor vent. She sat down on a billowing grey sofa and opened the letter while she tickled her muff through the satin of her french-cut panties.

“Dear Misses Stewart,” the handwritten note began. Kelly wrinkled her brow quizzically, curious at having discovered in the words more than a bill from the paperboy..

“We have met several times, at the Evansville May Bazaar, the Chicken Social, and maybe at the Devin’s Christmas party, although I would imagine you don’t remember me. I live in the house behind and at a angle from yours on top of the hill. My location affords me an excellent view of your beautiful house.”

Kelly sat up, brushing a lock of golden hair from her eyes and then stood and went to the window. Shading her eyes, she studied the darkened house behind theirs. Shrugging, she looked back down to the letter.

“For several months now, I have been watching you. It started with a glance, a night when I turned off the light in my room and happened to look over toward your house. In the full light of your room, you pulled a bright pink t-shirt over your head, leaving your glorious white lit breasts, so naked, so firm, clearly proffered to my view. It was like a revelation. Your tits are magnificent, Kelly. I hope you don’t mind my familiarity. It just seems appropriate, given all I know about you.”

Kelly looked back up at the distant house, wondering if he was that faint shadow in the dark window. Her hand cupped her warm breast.

“Let me assure you that I am not, well, I’m not obsessed with you or anything spooky like that. You are quite attractive by most standards of feminine beauty, and I appreciate that. For myself, I generally prefer a different sort of woman, more demure, shall we say. I never chose you, but rather found you. I could not ignore you, once discovered. Now, I had never considered myself a voyeur before I happened to encounter your image on that dark May night. But once I saw you standing in the window, naked and lovely, I could not help but look again.”

“I guess, more than anything,” the letter continued, “the amount of time I have spent peeping through your window is a fair measure of the boredom that has overtaken my life, as well, I suppose, as the regularity with which I have seen you prancing naked through your house. In three months, I don’t think a single day has gone by when I haven’t happened to witness your bare breasts, your ass, your pussy, your thighs, tummy and smile. Oh, Kelly, you have tempted me from a dull life of talk shows and soap operas to a constant vigil at my window. Money I would have spent on fishing tackle and ice cream has gone to binoculars and telescopes. I should thank you, although I’m not sure I wouldn’t have been better off if I’d simply never seen you.”

“I have always wanted to write this letter, to share the visions that have become such an integral part of my life with someone who can appreciate the beauty they embody. I don’t have any friends I would tell about you. But you understand, for you adore to see yourself on stage, playing roles, exposed and applauded. This letter is my applause. I have enjoyed every moment of your life these past few months.”

Kelly smiled at the portrait and with a thoughtless finger tickled herself.

“There was one night when William came home late, although it would be a strange night when he came home early, when you took a long hot bath and then stretched out across your bed. I can distinctly remember the way your heavy white breasts pressed down flat as you spread your thighs wide, turned just perfectly so I could see the soft pink of your pussy lips as you gently tickled your bulging clit.

I had just bought a new telescope and was glad I spent the extra hundred. You lifted your ass off the bedspread as the excitement began to build, tossing your head back and forth, and then the shudders tore through your frame, and you plunged your fingers down deep. I dreamed of that episode for a week, over and over again.”

“Ohmigod,” said Kelly, pushing her hand down the waist of her panties to tease her damp clit.

“I’ve watched you dress a hundred times. I like your black satin panties and the silk blue chemise, the white flowered dress that shows your pretty legs every time you twirl. I love the denim shorts and the blue thong bathing suit. I remember the day when you curled your hair and spent the afternoon topless, your nipples tensing and relaxing at regular intervals.”

Kelly smiled, recognizing the day. She had been exciting herself before she went to see Bradford that afternoon.

“So, you must be wondering, why am I writing to you?”

“Yeah,” said Kelly.

“I never thought I would get the chance to tell you how much I have enjoyed your exhibitions, and when this opportunity arose, I couldn’t help but step forward. I am, of course, afraid you will take offense at my visual intrusion and close your drapes, if in fact, you have any. That has become my constant fear as my desire to see your tits and smile and ass has risen to the level of being the supreme pleasure in my sorry life. But I don’t think you will disappoint me. I’m hoping, anyway.”

“Maybe I have it all wrong. Perhaps your life has changed in some way imperceptible to me and my silent distance. Perhaps you can easily explain the dark-haired man who shared your weekend to William. I don’t think so. I think he is your lover. I think you’d do almost anything to keep Mr. Stewart from finding out.”

“I was watching Friday evening when the man first appeared. I watched you bring him into the kitchen. I watched you slip off your dress and jump up on the butcher’s block. I watched his trousers fall and I watched as his prick pressed past your wet cunt’s lips.”

“I loved the way you sat astride him in your bed on Saturday night, the way your tits bounced as you rode his thick cock, the way you tossed your head back and even a thousand feet away, I could almost hear your moans. When he knelt behind you, pushing deep inside with your face pressed against the spread and your ass lifted high, I wondered if he was half as hard as I was, watching you both. It looked fantastic, incredible, simply divine. You have a delicious ass, Kelly. I would have watched that fuck forever.”

“I have often wondered how someone as sexual as you could survive on the meager diet your husband, dear William, seemed to dole out. Now I think I know where you spend your late afternoons, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Perhaps Saturday before or after shopping as well? At any rate, Kelly, I wanted you to know that I know.”

Kelly sighed and leaned back against the window. “But what do you want from me?” she asked the paper.

“Rest assured, pretty Kelly, your secret is safe with me. No more than you would I do anything to disturb the current state of affairs. All I want is to spend my days, evenings and nights, sitting at my window, watching you. You have never seemed to mind, and I hope you still won’t. I would do almost anything to keep what I’ve got. Just don’t leave me. That’s all I ask.”

“What a fool,” Kelly said, imagining what she would do, if the tables were turned.

“Give me a wave and a smile. I love you. Your neighbor, Curtis.”

Kelly turned to look back out the window at her shadowy audience. She thought she could see a faint outline of a man sitting behind one of the panes. Kelly smiled and waved. Crumpling the letter in her hand, she turned her back again. Kelly slowly leaned over and pushed the waist of her panties down. Wiggling her bare ass she pressed the swollen wetness of her pussy against the warm window. Kelly tickled her throbbing clit and laughed.

“Merci,” she said. “Thank you all. You are too kind.”


About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, erotica, fiction, literature, literotica, personal, short stories, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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