Standing Ovation

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This short story is brought to you by the author of Maggie's Milkman and Extraordinary Rendition. 
A slight red warning this morning. 

‘Are you gonna do anything about that?’ Julie said to her good for nothing husband.

‘About what love?’ He was so immersed in the footie that he didn’t notice the noise coming from next door. Every Sunday for the past 5 weeks had been the same. 3pm on the dot the doorbell had rung, there was a clatter of feet on the stairs and then within minutes the noises started, chuckling, giggling, moaning, slurping, squelching but mostly moaning. He was either a good lover or she was a good actor or something in between because she let the whole street know that she was having a good time.

‘Never mind,’ Julie said, before stomping upstairs herself,  and slamming the door of the bedroom. She sighed  and lay on her bed. She’d not met the neighbour, she’d only spied him through the curtains when she’d heard him leave his house. He didn’t look anything special, just a normal bloke but he was certainly doing something right. She couldn’t make up her mind if she was angry with him for the noise or just jealous that whoever his partner was, was getting such a good seeing to. When was the last time she’d had pleasure like that? The answer was simple, never, and with the lazy idiot downstairs, she was not likely too either. She did as she’d done last week and the week before and used the sounds to rock herself to happiness, it was good but it wasn’t the same.

‘Good evening,’ Julie span around and saw the man who had unknowingly brought her to orgasm the last three Sunday’s, standing in his front garden watching her.

‘Oh hello,’ She said feeling herself blushing. She’d promised herself that she would chide the fella when she got a chance, tell him she had a 12-year-old girl at home and that she didn’t appreciate the noises every Sunday. But faced with his little grin and that cute tuft of hair, she was less determined.

‘I’ve got a package for you,’ he said. Her eyes flicked to his crotch and back to his face.

‘A parcel,’ He said and smiled again, she blushed even more; it was like he could read her mind. The postman delivered it while you were out.

‘Yes, yes.’ She tried to regain her composure; maybe he hadn’t noticed her wandering eyes.

‘I’ll give it to you if you want,’ he said.

She giggled, god she was acting like a 15-year-old girl. She followed him to his front door. He opened it, picked up the package and turned around, but she was expecting him to keep walking and bumped into him.

Julie was making dinner, she’d told her husband that there had been problems with the trains and he’d seemed to buy it. Her daughter was too busy playing computer games to notice her mum being home late. 

‘He was at it again,’ Her husband had come into the kitchen.

‘What?’

‘The neighbour, he had some bimbo in there again, boy she was a loud one, a right goer.’

Julie’s smiled, she’d been putting on a show and her audience had just given her the  standing ovation she’d desired.

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