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

What Katie did on the Balcony. By katie_tt

... probably younger, with an elfin face and big black eyes and neat short cut hair and a sweetly curved body and my first thought is: how did that boring Mr Burgess get possession of such a sweet creature as this? And still, there is that feeling that I’ve seen her before. We are staring at each other. There is a look of bewilderment on her face. Maybe we have met before, and she has recognised me. But that is only a passing thought. I am overwhelmed by the desire to embrace her, to see how well she will fit in my arms, to kiss her. To know her body. I stop staring at her and invite her in. As soon as the door is closed she turns to face me. The bewilderment has been replaced by a troubled look which serves only to enhance my need to hug her, It is a while since I had anything to do with another woman, not since that troubled affair with my former business partner Fiona, and the old familiar feeling is stirring deep in the centre of my emotions. “I’m very sorry”, she is saying. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. It’s about my b*****r, Colin,” Her b*****r? b*****r! So it is Miss Burgess, not Mrs! That explains the familiarity. She has the same colour eyes and hair; her lips are fuller but her mouth has the same serious lines as her b*****r. I know that if I came to know them better I will find many more points of similarity. But why is she here? “Come and sit down”, I say, hoping I sound calm. I offer her tea or coffee but she declines. “I’ll get straight to it,” she says. “Colin ...

... says you have been seeing each other.” I blink. “Not really”, I say. “Not at all. I mean, we see each other on the street and last week he gave me a lift when it was raining.” I think it best not to mention the balcony sightings. “I don’t think we’ve said more than ten words to each other. We’re really not seeing each other.” She sighs, her eyes looking bigger and sadder. “That’s what I thought”, she says. “You see, he has a problem, and I thought I better warn you.” Oh my God, he is a serial killer r****t after all! I hide my consternation. “He seems - I mean, I have never felt -“. I stop short of saying “in any danger”, waiting to hear what more she has to say. She gives a little smile. “Oh no, Miss Thompson”, she says. “I didn’t mean anything like -he’s not dangerous. He’s the sweetest man. He would not even dream of hurting anyone.” She pauses, obviously gathering her thoughts. “You see,” she continues, “he can’t have an ordinary relationship with a woman.” I remember the way he’d hurried away when I’d invited him in, leaving me to think he was gay or impotent. “It’s nothing physical”, Evie goes on as if reading my mind. “And he’s not gay, or at least I don’t think he is.”” She sighs again. How I want to cuddle her! Instead, I say: “Maybe you should start at the very beginning of - whatever his problem was.” She looks at me, maybe with relief at being given some direction. “Thank you, Miss Thompson,” she says. “I think - you seem to be a person who understands.” “I’ve been ...