A little Preview

From

Turkish Delight 2

There were two big, red suitcases in the entrance hall.

Not Tina’s luggage, and yet who else…?

Josephine closed the door behind her and called . “Hello?”

There were sounds coming from the kitchen, like somebody doing some kind of heavy labor. Holding her keys in her fist like she had been taught in self-defence classes, the keys jutting out between her closed fingers, Josephine pulled the glass-beads curtain on one side and entered the kitchen.

“What…?!”

There were a man and a woman, standing against her refrigerator. It was impossible to mistake what they were doing. The woman wore a red skirt and jacket that matched the suitcases in the hall. She was standing on one leg, balancing on a high heel, as her other leg was wrapped around the hip of the man. Her arms were stretched up towards the ceiling. The man, in a hoodie sweatshirt and a pair of black jeans, had pushed her skirt up and was holding her exposed thigh and her ass, and he was thrusting with his hips, grunting rhythmically. Each pelvic thrust was accompanied by the ringing of the bottles inside the fridge, the movement causing them to tap one another.

“What are you doing in my house!” Josephine exploded.

Surprised by her shout, the man let go of the woman and stopped what he was doing. His jeans fell down to his knees, exposing a pair of pin-striped boxers and a hint of a pale, hairy buttock.

“What does this mean?!”

Josephine stood there, screaming at him. He made some incoherent noises as he worked his prick back into his pants and sauntered in the direction of the door.

Josephine stared at him, open-mouthed, and glanced briefly at the woman, that was straightening her skirt, as peeved expression on her heavily made-up face. Josephine did a double take and turned, the man with his pants down completely forgotten.

The door slammed, the man stumbled down the front steps, cursing.

Josephine didn’t mind.

“Tina?!”

The other woman lit a cigarette. “Fuck, mom,” she said, taking a deep drag, “I was halfway there. Talk about bad timing.”

She stretched her arms and back, moaning obscenely, and rolled her hips. She shook her head. “He wasn’t bad,” she said, and leered. “You should have given him the time to finish me off.”