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She was on her own. A saturday was set for the move and I left the townhouse open so she could move in. There was already a bed and chest of draws in the room. It also had its own bathroom. I returned home about 6 in the evening. I saw some empty boxes and then retreated to my room which was next to Christine's. I could hear the shower running and the bedroom door was open. I went to close it and the showere went off and out popped Christine. She had a housecoat on and she was drying her hair. She saw me and smiled saying how glad she was to see me. I said hello and asked if everything was all right. She smiled but asked if I could fix the door on the closet which kept sliding open. I went in and bent down. I put the door on the track and it sat fine. As i got up Christine had come up next to me. Oh honey, she said, how can I ever thank you for helping me. I stammered that it was ok and she was welcome in my home. I noticed that the housecoat was zippered halfway. “Fuck off!” She grabbed a chair, sitting down in front of me, eyes raised in expectation. She leaned forward, one elbow propped on a knee, her face cradled in her hand. “I’m waiting.” I pouted, grimaced, tutted, shook my head, but Lucy just sat there. Locking eyes with her, I spread my legs, lifting my left leg and planting the ball of my foot on her Ikea coffee table, knowing it would annoy her. I slapped the foot down hard on its surface. Lucy didn’t even blink. Damn her, the bitch. I sat forward on the sofa, and leaned back. I began to slowly unbutton my top, just enough to show the swell of my breasts. My hands ran down over my tummy, and then caressed my hips before I ran my fingers up the insides of my thighs, coming to rest either side of my pussy. My left hand began to caress my mound, lightly twirling the pubic hair. The dampness from before was still there, the situation and the way Lucy had taken control was keeping me on edge. I stroked my outer lips, fingernails.
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