Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use without permission)
‘Yes, b home 4 lunch soon – surprise me!’ She grinned as she reread his text and gently pulled the stocking up over her knee, smoothing it over her newly epilated legs and finally clipping its lace top to her suspender belt, yes; she was definitely going to surprise him!
Standing in front of the mirror, she tousled her hair and reapplied a generous spritz of scent before giving her ample bosom a boost and smiling seductively at her reflection.
The doorbell chimed and she checked the candles, slipped her feet into tall heels and sashayed suggestively down the stairs.
Licking her lips she turned the bolt and opened the door, just a little, just enough to tease, and she delicately kicked her leg and allowed the stiletto to drop in front of the gap then she slowly, to full effect, stroked her stockinged foot up the edge of the door, caressing its cold metal with pointed ballerina toes; her fingers crept round, showing off sparkling blood-red nails and she slowly opened the door wide, until she was pressed back against the wall behind it, “Please, dear Sir, this way for a tantalising lunch…” she purred.
The cough, the polite cough, from the doorstep froze her leg in place halfway up the door, and horror filled her head; blushing furiously, she peeked and recognised her elderly neighbour, “Ahem, I’ll decline, if you don’t mind, but do you have a spare cup of sugar?”