What Katie did on the Balcony. By katie_tt - Sex Stories

What Katie did on the Balcony. By katie_tt

... looks over the railing and waves to someone in the street. Damn. Mr Burgess has a visitor. Show-time is over. I turn and look over the balcony. A little sporty looking car has pulled up and a woman is walking towards Mr Burgess’ apartment block. She looks small; neatly dressed in a black skirt and a black shirt or sweater. I watch her pert figure as she heads into the building. Mr Burgess has disappeared from his balcony. So, Mr Burgess has a woman. A very pretty woman, from what I saw. I feel cheated, which is ridiculous because I have no claim on Mr Burgess. I retrieve my shorts and my book and go inside, feeling very flat and no longer horny. (There must be a better word for describing a woman in need of sex.) I busy myself with some housework for a while, trying not to think about Mr Burgess or on-line titillation or Alex, and after twenty minutes or so I am reasonably calm. The sun is still shining on my balcony so I make a cup of tea and go back outside to relax. I glance down to the street. The little car is still there. I raise my cup in a silent toast to Mr Burgess and his woman. At least someone is having the right kind of fun in this quiet street. Now I am mildly surprised to see Mr Burgess’ woman leaving his building. Maybe I was wrong. Her neat, almost prim attire suggests that maybe she is a secretary or accountant or something like that. I expect to see her go towards her car but no, she is crossing the road towards my building. I feel uneasy. Has Mr Burgess ...

... told her about the teasing tart from across the road, and is Mrs Burgess coming to give me a piece of her mind? As she nears I get a better glimpse of her face. There is something familiar about it. Where would I have seen her before? She disappears around the side of the building and shortly my security bell rings. I am very apprehensive, believing that there is soon to be some nasty moments. Should I ignore it, pretend that I’m out? Don’t be c***dish. It won’t be the first time I’ve been confronted by an angry “other woman”, and anyway, I’ve done nothing but show the dear man a bit of tit. I press the intercom button and say: “Hello?” “Is that Miss Thompson? Miss Katie Thompson?” I have only the initials, “KT”, on my bell so it’s a reasonable question. “Yes”, I say. “Who is this? How can I help you?” May as well be polite to the jealous bitch. The tinny voice in the intercom says: “My name is Evie Burgess.” Oh shit, says the voice in my head. It is a wife. She does not sound hostile, but still I hesitate. “From over the road,” she says. “I would really like to have a word with you. We can talk down here if you don’t want me to come upstairs.” She doesn’t sound at all threatening, so after a moment I press the button and tell her to come upstairs. I realise I am still in my panties. I run to the bedroom and put on some fresh panties and shorts, and I am just buttoning them up when there is a knock on the door. I open the door and there is Evie Burgess. Much shorter than me, ...