The New Neighbour, Part 7
A glimpse of stocking tops brings retribution...
I retired to Jennifer’s kitchen, arranging crockery on a large tray and awaited our ‘guest’. She was late, of course, and I sat, restlessly, for almost half an hour before the door chime rang loudly in the entrance hall. I straightened my tie, cleared my throat and went to open the door. Jennifer’s mother waltzed straight inside, without invitation. Despite this rudeness, I immediately perceived her aura of subtle sexines...