Contact details

You finally hit the bottom of the great wall of text, now knowing far more about this gorgeous stranger than anyone you've actually met. And then there, at the very end, to your amazement, are all her contact details. Home phone, mobile, social media accounts (complete with full login details), and her address.

You stare at the address, now absolutely floored. She lives in the very same estate as you. Number 5. You don't know which of the impressive mansions it is, but the urge to go and check it out is irresistible.

Pocketing your phone, you head downstairs, grabbing your coat before leaving. You step out the door and angle right down the road. Your street is one large circle that curves down hill, back towards the main gate. A decent size communal park area fills the central roundabout. And it has enough trees and plants that the resident don't have to look across at each other.

You're counting the numbers on the gates as you pass, still amazed by how upmarket this place is. Maybe you've misjudged just how far up the social ladder you've climbed. This sure as hell doesn't feel like the bottom rug of anywhere.

You finally reach a big stone gate post marked with an offset brushed steeled '5'. You can't make out anything of the house beyond the solid wooden gate except for the large, red-tile roof.

You stare at it for a little while, wondering if she's in there right now. In her room. Maybe just lying on her bed, in her underwear.

Geez, you're turning into a real perv' here.

"Are you delivering something?"

A voice startles you from you little fantasy and you quickly turn to see...