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“You’ll get lots of candy no matter what costume you wear,” I managed in a neutral tone. “And I agree – Halloween is always fun.”
With that, Magnolia giggled and with a small wave, pushed her shopping cart away. I stared hungrily at those wide hips as they swayed, my cock semi-erect in my jeans. Fuck. The sweet girl is exactly what I need, and sad to say, I waited with a huge bucket of candy during Halloween in the hopes that she’d come by. But only a few kids rang the doorbell, so I retired for the night disappointed with a case of aching blue balls.
But now, a new opportunity has presented itself. After all, it’s not every day that the teenage girl next door does an X-rated strip show in her window. Maybe the performance hadn’t been for my eyes, but it doesn’t matter because she’s mine … and I’m a man who always claims what’s mine, even when the situation is forbidden.
4
Ed
Fuck. It’s been a few days now, and I still haven’t talked to Magnolia. Still, all in good time. I don’t want to push things because that would come off as desperate. Yet, my balls ache and I’ve literally been rubbing one out daily, if not twice or three times daily, since witnessing the sweet girl’s naughty strip tease. Her curves fill my mind every waking moment, and I can barely concentrate on anything other than getting my fill of the lush Magnolia Talbot.
But now, opportunity has struck. I pace the kitchen, looking out the window at the Talbots’ driveway and watch as Malcom Talbot heaves two golf bags in the trunk of his car. His wife walks to the front passenger seat and gets in, dressed in a pink polo shirt and matching pants.
“All good?” Malcolm calls.
Victoria nods from inside the car, and then the older man shuts the trunk, gets in the driver’s seat and together, they drive away. They’re cute, actually. The two of them were wearing matching visors, and it’s clear they’re headed out for a day of golf. Even better, they’ll likely be gone for hours.
Perfect. It’s time to put my plan into action. My son’s still asleep at this early hour, and I know Corey won’t be getting up until at least late afternoon. Experts say that teenagers are on a different body clock when it comes to getting up, but Corey’s in his own league. That boy isn’t just dirty and lazy – he’s also nocturnal. As a result, I have plenty of time to execute my plan.
First, I take out some baking ingredients and spread them on the kitchen counter. Then I open a bag of flour and pat some onto the surface of the counter, like I’ve been hard at work baking. It’s possible after all. I own a chain of pizza parlors called Burrata, and they’ve done well. Customers enjoy our zany toppings, not to mention the fresh burrata that graces every pie, and I still work in the test kitchen on occasion.
But right, this is all part of my plan. I tie an apron around my waist and then wipe flour onto the fabric with my hands before swiping more flour from the counter and wiping it over the apron again. Is that enough? I hope so. The final touch is my measuring cup. I seize the metal implement and then take a deep breath before heading for the front door. Will she buy it? Will Maggie actually believe that I’m at her house to borrow a cup of sugar? As I stroll next door, my heart begins to pound and I get more nervous with every step. Oh shit, maybe this is a bad idea. She’s probably going to see through my flimsy attempt to make conversation and think that I’m an old lech trying to get into her pants, which to some extent, I am.
My palms are sweating, making the flour pasty, but I have to do this. I take a couple of deep breaths then knock on the front door.
Within seconds, Maggie answers and she looks absolutely gorgeous. She must have been playing tennis earlier because she’s still in a white polo shirt and tiny white tennis skirt. Her breasts strain against the fabric, making my mouth go dry, and the skirt shows off her long legs. Her hair is in a ponytail with wisps sticking to her cheeks, and her skin is flushed and rosy.
I stand in silence, just looking at her.
She cocks her head.
“Hi, Mr. Sterling. How are you? This is a surprise.”
I jerk like an idiot.
"Sorry. Right, right. I hate to bother you so early in the day, but I own a couple pizza parlors in town, and I’m experimenting with recipes right now. But like an idiot, I just discovered that I’m out of sugar. Can I borrow a cup? I’d appreciate it so much."
