Take a fresh look at your lifestyle.



My Neighbour’s Girlfriend: By XhedbuksKing
Beneath the rim of my face cap, through the rims of my vintage granpa glasses and above the crook of my elbow which bore my weight, I peered distractedly at the torrents of rain falling from the corrugated roofing sheets three storey above to the ground a flow below, as I rested languidly on the railings of the balcony of my little room which was one of the many little rooms in the big lodge down the road, not very far from school.
The wind had thinned out to sporadic gusts and it made the electric lines overhead whistle violently, making it sound like an evil spirit was on the prowl. It also made little showers of w€tness spray across my face, caressing my nostrils with the astringent scent of rain. With an unseeing intent I stared at the fast falling drops of rain as they followed each other in their descent to earth.
Seeing beyond them to a night not too far from the reach of memory that the electric lines sang in such deadly whistles as they did then. I still saw with my mind, the frenzied dance of the trees as the wind assailed them in the darkness">darkness of the night, making me remember..
I remembered the cold smell of the rain wind as it wafted unbridled into my room through the open window. I remember hurrying from my bed to the window and sliding it shut as the w€t gusts of wind threatened to make the solitary candle that stood atop a my reading table by the window, give up the ghost.
The sudden brightness that cut through the dark of the night, setting everywhere momentarily aglow and casting eerie shadows of the ceiling fan and the lone shirt that hung from the nail on the wall, still shone bright in my memory.
With a slight chill of nostalgia I remembered the cold of that night and the smell of the blanket which had kept me warm until I had had to stand to shut the window. The soft sound of a knock on the door still thudded clear in his head, what was more clear was the soft urgent sound of her voice as she whispered her identity.
‘We have to hurry up, he might wake up anytime soon’. I remembered her warning with a replica of the sense of urgency and excitement her warning brought then as I clambered out of my little arsenal briefs and as she shrugged of her already unzipped ‘I love pink’ sweater and slid out of her little jean shorts.
The smell of her hair mixed with the fragrance of her nightly bath tickled my nostrils in a most stimulating way, sending electric shivers down my spine, making me quiver with a tremor of thick curdled lust. With a stir in my groin I remembered the soft sound of her muffled m0ans as we moved in a sensual motion of an ecstatic dance to the creaking of the bed.
The warmth of her, the silhouette that was her in the gloom of the candle and the sound of the thunder that came crashing sporadically in the temptest that raged outside i clearly remembered well. The final groan of the bed as she stood up and shimmied into her nighties that were strewn on the floor I also rremembered. But most vividly what I remembered most, was the gentle click of the door as she slid silently into the night.

How useful was this post?

Click on a star to rate it!

Average rating 0 / 5. Vote count: 0

No votes so far! Be the first to rate this post.

You might also like

Leave A Reply

Your email address will not be published.