Funny Short Story – Thy Neighbour’s Wife
(Note: Image does not illustrate or has any resemblance with characters depicted in the story)
Photo credit: anitapeppers from morguefile.com
From the very first moment she entered my field of vision, I knew she would be mine…
With her dark brown eyes, lustrous black hair that dropped to her shoulders, and lips that looked like they were made of spun silk, Penny was without doubt the most divine being I had ever set eyes upon. She was shaped like a dream, sculpted to perfection, flawless in geometric dimensions, every edge smoothed. I decided then that I would take her as my partner, to be at my side, remaining there always, till death – or maybe another woman – did us part.
The beauty occupying my thoughts was my neighbour. More accurately, she was the new wife of my neighbour. Penny had moved into the building only a week back, two years after her guy had bought and occupied the apartment opposite mine. And the next day she had turned up at our doorstep, to borrow a bowl of sugar.
My maid scurried to answer the door. What else can you expect maids to do without jeopardizing national security? She peeked through the peephole, and then opened the door. And bare-footed and hesitant, Penny stepped inside, into my flat and into my life.
In ludicrously slow motion, the usually rational look on my face fizzled out as I inhaled her contours in a sudden spurt of rapid-eye movements. My first glance was both sweeping and intense. I was instantly pleased with what I saw. She wore a honey-coloured miniskirt and a matching blouse that obscured only a little of the local topography, making direct visualization futile, but nonetheless sending my imagination, already demented by a lifetime spent in similar past-times, into overdrive.
The maid went back to the kitchen with the bowl, leaving Penny alone with me. She immediately turned towards me. Her eyes snared mine instantly, hers flashing brightly as my own swamped with the sudden guilt of eyes that had probed forbidden territory. She said nothing, just lifted up her palm to her mouth and blew me a kiss.
Her audacity galvanized me into instant motion. It sent my mind hurtling past mental frontiers and my molecular components past materiel ones. Put in straightforward terms, what that meant was that both my limbs gelatinised and my knees greeted the floor. The rapid transition from an instrument of passion to a bowl of chutney left me somewhat breathless. As an eager aspirant deliriously seeking immediate enrichment of his love-life, this sudden dropping of my physical stock to ground level was not a feat I could hope would be deciphered by her as one of ardour.
Probably I was right about that bit because by the time I’d gotten my heart back into its own orbit, both the cup of sugar and my own cup of bliss had gone.
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Penny would be out in the garden outside our verandah nearly every evening, pottering about with her newly laid bed of roses. Twice she saw me; twice she sent smiles in my direction, and thus twice did my burdened heart skip collective beats under the thawing gaze of that fair maiden.
I yearned for Penny. Surely no love ever felt could be as great as that I now felt for her. If only it hadn’t been for her husband: that oaf worked 10 hours a day, to return back by six every evening. How anyone could leave an angel like Penny alone in this community of misguided individuals was beyond me. But I wasn’t interested in the workings of her husband’s mind – just hers. She was what I’d lived for. Destiny had seen fit to bring close our paths, and soon it would make them one. One day soon.
That day came soon. And it came without warning.
I was actually lying on my mattress when the bedroom door opened, and right behind my sister, entered the woman of my dreams.
The smile on Penny’s face said everything I’d wanted said. This time my legs didn’t sink to the ground. Probably because of a certain degree of self-control I’d achieved over these rapid-conversion states. Or maybe it was because I was lying down.
“And this is the master-bedroom.” babbled my sister, gesturing.
Penny looked about. I wondered in mute agony what was going on inside her mind.
“Sarah!” It was the maid calling. My sister departed, annoyed. Three cheers for the maid, I thought gleefully, for clearing the obstacles. Tomorrow onwards, she’d get a raise! And a promotion: from maidservant to bridesmaid overnight. That’ll be something to tell her grand kids about – the dirty critters.
Penny came toward me – as I had known she would, lips pursed, eyes aglow. I lifted myself to a sitting position in a move that was a direct challenge to the laws of molecular physics. Perhaps she felt that the ingredients of my being weren’t up to defying instant liquefaction. Or maybe it was just my bad breath, but her hands pushed me down gently, pressed against the flatness of my chest. I succumbed to her, willing, waiting, desirous of her with a fervour I had never before experienced.
Already her fingers were weaving a silken pattern up my calf, sending tendrils of delight scurrying through me. Still brushing against my skin, they moved up and she leaned forward and towards me. No words were spoken, none were necessary; no sound was uttered – we were still engaged in the preliminaries.
My heart crashed against its cage like an angry sea upon a rocky cliff wall. The warmth of her breath kissed my neck and my eyes closed in willing submission to the glories of the torture about to descend upon me.
The door opened and Sarah strode in. “Maids!” she exclaimed scornfully.
Alcatraz! My mind screamed in cold fury. For both my sister and the maid.
Sarah looked at my face and in some surprise she said: “He seems to like you, Penny.”
“Oh, don’t be surprised.” said Penny. She kissed me on the forehead and smiled. “Most babies do…”
__END__
