Sarah Mabry/Prologue

Sarah Mabry

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Prologue

It was a sad day for me when I saw the removers roll in with their lorries and spend the morning wheeling cartons up the ramps as they emptied out Emma’s place. My feelings were so mixed I couldn’t bear to watch for long because of the pain their parting inflicted on me. The estate agent signs remained for a month before they came down and only one time did I spot anyone that appeared to be my new neighbour. It was a young woman of about thirty or so that was very pleasant to the eyes. However, I never spotted a male presence except for the removers on the day they unloaded their boxes.

Then, about mid-afternoon I spotted a young girl that left a school bus wearing a dark pleated tartan skirt and cardigan that had a school crest on the breast. The little ringlets of her golden locks sparkled in the sun as they caressed her cheeks. Then, she vanished and it was a few days before I saw her again but this time it was in their back garden, kicking and chasing a football. I knew it would be lonely for her since there were no children her age in the estate. Soon, she tired of her game and I didn’t spot her again until after a storm came through and blanketed us with snow. Several days after the snowfall had begun, the little snow bunny came trudging up to my garden door and I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw her.

Her bright and shining smile struck me, as it peered from her heavy cap and scarf. Her short curly locks were plastered to her face with melted snow but her cheeks were blushed with a healthy, rosy glow below piercing blue eyes.

She called out to me through my garden door, “I’m locked out and I need the loo. May I use yours?”

I quickly threw the door open and told her, “You certainly may, love. Right up the stairway on the right,” then I heard the loud thump of her boots as she bounded across the landing and up the stairs two at a time. The girl was so achingly beautiful her presence left a firm impression on me; especially in my pants. Only the two little birds I had so recently lost had managed that kind of response.

After she had finished, she tromped back though into the kitchen and announced, “Thank you Mister. I was bursting. I’m Sarah, with an ‘h’, Mabry. What do I call you?”

“My pleasure, Sarah, with an ‘h’, Mabry. Just call me Billy. No sense in the Mister. We’re not all that proper around here.”

She looked directly at my evident tent and smiled, then told me, “Thank you, Billy. I really like you and would like to visit with you sometime,” then off the little bird flew out the door.

I watched her trudge her way through the garden and thought about the way she smiled when she saw my bulge. It had been so long since I had a good wank, I couldn’t help but fish myself out and stroke to her receding image. Then she shook off the snow and stamped her boots before she entered her garden door. It was then that I realized she wasn’t locked out of her house and I lost it; my sperm boiled over and spilled into the basin. What a relief and what better tribute to the sexy little girl who used an excuse so she could meet me.

“Was it fate,” I asked myself, “That her name was also Sara, but with an ‘h’?”

End Prologue

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