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On Warding Off Would-Be Witnesses

How she made them go away without being rude.


Becky  Lee Tyler had thoroughly enjoyed trying on the new lingerie with its sheer baby-doll top and ridiculously skimpy, matching panties. The special birthday present she’d ordered for her husband had just arrived.

After an extended period of fiddling with the gossamer outfit, and trying out different poses in front of the bedroom's full-length mirror, she knew, just knew, almost for sure, that both of them were really going to enjoy this gift.

Still wearing nothing but the new, risque ensemble,  The cute, petite brunette had begun working on what she hoped might become a sexy private dance.  That's when the grating sounds of the doorbell cut through her good mood and the loud music filling the house.

Reluctantly, she stopped, peeked through the heavy window curtains  she’d carefully pulled shut, and sighed.  ‘They’ were back.  The two conservatively dressed, middle-age ladies, who periodically descended upon the neighborhood hoping to witnesss to one and all, were once again, at the front door and waiting patiently in the mid-morning sun.

Though frustrated and more than just a bit put out at heart, she was a conventional, small-town girl. For her, being rude was not an option. She sighed again  and started  looking for her robe. That’s when inspiration struck, and she smiled.

After yelling  for the ladies to wait, she hurridly tousled her hair, kicked off her slippers, fired up a cigarette and then on her way through the kitchen, grabbed the half-empty glass of Coke she'd left on the table.

So she reached the door barefoot, faced flushed from dancing, a bit more than half naked with her hair mussed while holding a  cigarette and what looked like a drink. She opened the door wide, gave the stunned ladies a big smile and apologized for making them wait and for not being able to invite them in, explaining that she was in the middle of something, but hoped they'd come back real soon.

They never did.  

 

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