Martha

Chapter 15 On Top

Chapter 15
On Top

I rubbed the grass off my pants while hustling towards my house. Halfway across the yard, I freaked out to see Martha coming to my house. Pretending to do something, I grabbed the hose in front of me. 

"Antonio... Good afternoon." She waved her way, a timid smile drawing on her face. "Hi. Sorry to come to your house like this, but there's something important I need to as you." She seemed visibly distressed.

My eyes widened. Did she know? " Good afternoon, Martha. Sure, tell me. Is there anything wrong?" I played with the hose in my hands.

"Yes... well no, not exactly... It's just I'm a bit concerned about something... something in my house."

"How is that? What happened?" I asked over reacting, trying to not seem the guilty I was.

"Well, Antonio... I think I left my door open. I've being so distracted lately." There she gave me a crooked smile... was she trying to tell me something... anyway, I remained in silence, but on guard.

"And you think someone got in... or not?" I inquired wanting to know if she in fact had suspicions of me.

"Oh, no... that would never happen in my house I'm sure, for people in this town have these strange paranormal theories about me, you already know... Well, that is not what I was going to tell you. There are some wooden boxes in my balcony. Did you see the mailman leaving them there?"

"Oh... that... yes, I received the packages... but I didn't notice the door was open!" I blurted.

"No, don't worry, that's fine... I know I can trust you..." she padded me on the shoulder and giggled. "That's a relief. Thanks for receiving the packages. I was about to make a call to complaint with UPS for their irresponsibility. Those boxes contain very important items to me."

"Of course... you are a p--person that wouldn't buy something if you wouldn't need it." I blurted. Uff, it was close. I was going to spit on her face that I knew she was a painter, a very famous painter indeed; a very famous and anonymous painter. A very famous, anonymous painter, my favorite one who was in fact making a portrait of me.

Cocking her head asides, the woman at first glared at me with curiosity, but then she smiled. That pretty smile that I liked so much.

"Yeah, right, whatever... How many boxes were originally delivered?" She asked me.

"Oh, there were five wooden boxes. Are there five boxes? It is that I was watering the... uhm, grass, when the mailman came and then I went to your porch, signed the delivery, soon I remembered I had the left the water running... and now you're here..."

"Oh, no worries. You're too kind, and yes, it was supposed to be five boxes. Thank you... Well, I have to go now. I must take the boxes inside. Again, thank you, Antonio. I'm sorry for bothering you. Have a nice day." The beautiful blonde smiled and then walked away.

Feeling relieved, I stood for a moment, only to watch her sauntering away when I soon realized how stupid I was to let her go like that. The least I could do was to help her with the boxes after irrupting like a burglar in her house.

"Martha, wait!"

"Yes, Antonio?", she stared back at me.

"Let me help you with the boxes." Leaving the hose on the grass, I walked towards her.

She hesitated at first, yet she finally accepted. "Sure, thanks." The woman smiled.

At the house, Martha opened the door. I waited until she invited me in, this time. While we carried the boxes inside, the lady talked to me with pride about the large ebony piano and the Victorian upholstered furniture. I reacted with enthusiasm, as if I hadn't seen them before. I felt bad for her. I had been an intruder, trespassing not only into her house, but into her privacy.

This woman had been keeping her life to hers for so long, for whatever reason, and I, overpowered by curiosity, by a stubborn and meddlesomeness, had unveiled a mystery, her mystery, and now I was regretting it.

While I put the last two boxes on the floor, the portrait of me, because I was sure it was me, came to my mind. Perhaps, she was using me as a model, as an inspiration. It couldn't mean anything else. I smiled to myself with self pride, thinking I was going to be in her next collection.

Martha came in with the last box, placed it on the floor, but when she turned around, she tripped over the last box I placed. I tried to held her by the arm, but then it was me tripping and both plummeted to the floor... I fell on top of hers.

Yes, I was on top of hers and honestly, I didn't want to move, until she grimaced and rubbed her head. "Ouch." She protested, holding her head for a second.

"Are you okey?" I asked.

The women only nodded, her lips crooking halfway, evidently aware of the situation, a situation I knew both were enjoying, or at least didn't bother us at all.

The warmth in her body rose and her face flushed. Her breasts against my chest, close enough to feel her heartbeat, pounding every time faster, as our bodies were so close. I let myself relax on top of hers, the fine fabric on her summer dress allowed me to sense, to smell the softness of her skin.

Our eyes locked, hers only telling me how comfortable she was in that position. Her left leg spreading a bit apart, bending its knee up to let me pose on top of hers with undeniable acceptance. A mischievous smile confirmed me she was feeling my erection pressing on her thigh. I leaned closer. She gasped, half opening her mouth. Then she bit her lower lip.

Ooooh God! Why did she do that! That was the go. I closed the gap between us, the sweet minty smell of her breath, felt warmer as I got closer until our lips brushed.