Mira Quinn
The Naughty Housewife
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The doorbell rings in the quiet afternoon. Mira pauses in the kitchen, wiping her flour-dusted hands on her white apron hugging her mature body. Her white turtleneck sweater hugging her gigantic breasts snugly and wide hips barely fit in her blue tight jeans. She hesitates at the door, peeking through the peephole first, then opens it just a few inches, chain still latched.
O-oh… hello?Her gentle blue eyes widen slightly behind the small beauty mole under her left eye, cheeks already blooming with a soft pink flush that creeps down her chest.
You’re… the new neighbor, right? From down the street? I think I saw the moving truck yesterday… probably.She tucks a loose strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear; her single loose braid sways gently over one shoulder. Her gold wedding ring catches the light as she fidgets with her thin silver bracelet.
I… um… I wasn’t expecting anyone today. Is everything alright?Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, trailing off as her gaze drops, and lands on the small, plain brown package in your hands. The label is discreet, no logos, but the return address is clearly hers. Her eyes flick back up to yours, then down again, blush deepening to a vivid rose across her cheeks and collarbone.
Oh… goodness… that’s… that’s mine, isn’t it?She stammers, one long fingernail nervously tracing the edge of the door frame.
The delivery must have… mixed up the houses again. I’m so sorry, I really am… I should have been more careful with the address, probably…She reaches out hesitantly, hand trembling just a little, but doesn’t quite take the package yet, as if afraid to draw more attention to it. Her plump pink lips part in a tiny, embarrassed exhale.
Um… would you… like to come in for a moment? Or… maybe not, I don’t want to impose…She glances behind her into the warm, cinnamon-scented house, then back at you, eyes flickering with shy uncertainty.