'Knock knock', Ron's knuckles tapped against the glass. There was no movement. 'Knock Knock', he tried again, looking at the handle on the door. Stepping back, he peered up at the top windows. The only sound of life was the sound of a police siren a couple of streets over. Spattering rain annoyed his eyes. He tapped on the glass panel of the front door again, and ran his nails over the flaking paint on the wall of the porch, picking at chunks.
Finally Ron noticed a shadow move in front of the glass panel. Someone was inside. Licking his lips, he watched the handle turn. Light slowly appeared between the door and frame. Ron felt the warmth from inside creep out onto his skin.
"Hello, Ron." came the voice. Ron's skin quivered at the sound of it. The woman's voice had a smoothness which would be like wrapping yourself in silk if it could be worn. His eyes were low, looking at the worn down red carpet just past the door. He saw her feet, and watched one toe curl a little and rub the other foot.
"Ron?" Her velvet voice came again. Ron's head jerked up as he spoke.
"Hello, Mrs. Campbell," Stuttered Ron, "Is David home?" Ron's gaze was drawn to her dark curly hair as it fell playfully down the front of her shoulder. Mrs. Campbell observed him for a moment.
"He's out," she replied. Ron looked at the red apron she wore with white stripes. It was covered with some sort of pasty mixture. Mrs. Campbell looked down at herself.
"Oh, excuse me, I've been baking," she explained. Ron continued to stare. Mrs. Campbell stared down at him, being a little taller than he, acting like a rabbit-in-headlights.
"Would you like to come in and wait for him?" She asked, opening the door a little wider. Ron gave a timid shrug.
"Come on," she smiled, "I don't bite."
Mrs. Campbell turned from the door. Ron stepped up into the hallway. The warmth engulfed him, and the sweet moist smell of baking released his nerves. Ron welcomed the homely feeling Mrs. Campbell's house gave off. It looked lived-in. There were worn carpets, and slightly peeling wallpapers, and scratched wooden furniture. He stopped and watched Mrs. Campbell approaching the kitchen doorway. Her red apron straps were done up in a big bow behind her. Her legs were covered down to just below her knees by tight black leggings, and she wore a short denim miniskirt with no belt. She also had on a thick white pull-over like you might wear in winter, Even though it was very warm in the house. She stopped and flicked her hair over her shoulder to look back at Ron.
"Don't be shy. Come sit down." She beckoned. Ron followed her into the kitchen, which was even warmer than the hallway. He sat at the table facing the worktop and oven. It was all covered in the same paste mix. It smelt good.
"Sorry about the mess," Mrs. Campbell excused herself, "I love baking but I get it all over myself." Ron nodded, playing with his thumbs. Suddenly the beeping alarm on the oven sounded. Mrs. Campbell's eyes lit up as she turned to the oven, bending over to open it up. Ron's eyes were drawn to the bottom of her miniskirt as is slowly hiked up the tops of her legs.
"Mmmm!" moaned Mrs. Campbell. Ron could just about see the curves of her ass when she pulled out a baking tray and stood straight up.
"What do you think?" Mrs. Campbell asked, lowering a tray of cookies in front of Ron. Ron smiled. She placed them down before walking around the table to Ron's side.
"Can you undo this?" She asked, turning her back to him, gesturing the aprons straps. Ron took a long glimpse at the curve of her ass again before slowly pulling on the bow. It came undone. Mrs. Campbell thanked Ron and removed it from over her head. After hanging it on a peg she turned to stare at Ron again, her hands resting lightly on her hips.
"My, it's so hot in here. Don't you think it's hot in here?" panted Mrs. Campbell. Ron shrugged again. Mrs. Campbell excused herself and disappeared through the kitchen door. Ron listed to the creaking of stairs as she trod up them. He then stood up and took a piping hot cookie from the tray. Minutes passed as he picked at the soft dough, with not a sound from upstairs.
Ron, becoming impatient, slowly trod up the stairs trying not to make them creak. He could see movement inside one of the rooms through the crack of the door, very slightly ajar. Creeping closer, he closed one eye and peered through as best he could. An aroma of peaches surrounded the room. He saw the back of Mrs. Campbell standing in front of a freestanding oval mirror. Her top half was completely bare. Ron ran his eyes down the smooth contours of her back. He could not see a single imperfection on her skin. Licking his lips, he wondered what her fruit-ripe skin would taste like.
Mrs. Campbell bent down to pick something off the floor, allowing Ron an inspection of the side of her plump breast. She was a goddess to him. After putting the straps of a cream bra over her shoulders, Mrs. Campbell fiddled with the clasp at the back. Ron could just about see in the reflection how poorly it fitted her. Her ample bust spilled out of the cups. Ron put his eye closer to the door. Mrs. Campbell struggled to fit into her underwear. Pulling the silk trim up seemed to no avail.
Ron breathed faster. His heart beat stronger. His knees became weak. He buckled. His leg hit the door with a thud. Mrs. Campbell jumped. She span around just in time to see a shadow dart away from the crack in the door. Ron moved swiftly down the stairs trying not to make even more disturbance. A chill came over him, realizing there was no way Mrs. Campbell had not seen him spying. Regardless, Ron sat back at the kitchen table trying to play it cool.
