The Sintown Chronicles Book 2 - Through Bedroom Windows

An eBook By David O Dyer Sr.

Eddie Crow watched the last part of the conversation from his vantagepoint in the kitchen. He imagined it was his hand, not Bennett's, Maggie was squeezing. He saw himself pull Maggie's firm body against his, slip off her clothing as she removed his, explore her full lips as she snaked her tongue inside his mouth. He moaned and shook his head. One day, he promised himself. One day I'll lie between her upturned legs and feel her breasts flatten against my chest.

***

While Maggie moved her things from the Blazer to the large guestroom directly across from the master bedroom, George prepared dinner consisting of tossed salad, baked potatoes, thick charcoal T-bone steaks and Texas toast. They ate in silence, listening to the sound of big band music coming from the den stereo. She insisted on washing the dishes, but as soon as the last utensil was put away she slipped beneath the rippling waves of the Whirl Pool in the bathroom of the master bedroom. I could get used to this, she thought.

George snapped on the big screen TV in the den and stretched out on the sofa. He wasn't used to the long working day he just completed. It seemed as if every muscle of his body was in rebellion. He watched one sitcom after another, too tired to use the remote to search for better shows. He turned over on his side and groaned out loud.

"Mind if I join you?" Maggie asked.

He lifted his head and looked to his left. She was standing there, smiling radiantly, with a towel wrapped around her wet hair and a simple white, terrycloth robe around her body. He wondered where the breasts suddenly came from.

"Please," he said as he tried to sit up, "I'd love some company."

"Don't get up," she protested as she hastened to his side and gently pushed him back into a reclining position. "Somebody's muscles are sore," she said with a soothing voice. "Turn over on your tummy and let my magic fingers come to your relief."

He smiled weakly as he obeyed, and he moaned with pleasure as her fingers found the aching muscles of his shoulders. She sat on the edge of the sofa and worked slowly to his lower back. They listened to the sounds from the television and did not speak until the ten o'clock program began.

"Oh," she said. "Wildcat is my favorite show."

He sat up and said, "I could have guessed," he laughed. "You picture yourself as the female detective who weekly rights the wrongs of the world."

"Yeah, maybe I do," she confessed.

They sat side by side through the first segment of the show. As the first of a long series of commercials began, he felt her head on his shoulder. She was fast asleep. He eased away from her and gently guided her head to his lap. She opened her eyes briefly and smiled at him. Her robe gaped open and he saw no more television that night. He could not pull his eyes away from the magnificent exposed breast and the soft brown curls that adorned her pubic area. When the eleven o'clock news ended, he carefully slipped out from under her head. He thought about trying to carry the sleeping beauty to her bedroom, but knew he did not have the strength. He placed a pillow under her head, an afghan over her body now curled in a fetal position, and gently kissed her cheek.

"Good night, Maggie," he whispered.

He dreamed of holding in his arms a beautiful young lady wearing a red cap, and the young lady was definitely not his daughter.

The room was dark when she awoke. It took her a minute to realize where she was. There was an afghan on the floor; her robe was completely open, exposing her body from neck to

ankle. Did he do this? Did he take advantage of me while I slept? She slipped her hand between her legs. If he screwed me, she thought, he used a condom. She ran both hands up her rippling belly and fondled her breasts. She felt her nipples harden and she flicked them playfully with her fingers. It had been an incredibly good day. She landed a great job and a palace to live in. She thought of George Bennett. She visualized his salt and pepper hair, his small but wiry body, and his sad eyes when he spoke of his deceased wife. She smiled when she remembered his comment to the effect that her breasts were small. Perhaps he knew better, now. She remembered the feel of his tight muscles and how they relaxed under her prodding fingers. She pulled the afghan back over her and smiled contentedly as she drifted back to sleep.

***

"Damn, Eddie. You've never made love to me like that before - so sweet and gentle. I could fall in love with a guy who handles me like that."

"Greta," he replied. "Have you ever thought of wearing a baseball cap?"

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