She hurries down the sidewalk -Blink

Amelia hurried down the sidewalk, her bare feet slapping against the warm concrete. The delivery van’s engine idled loudly, smelling of cheap exhaust, as the driver leaned out of his window with a furious sneer.

"I’m telling you, move your crazy ass!" the driver spat, his face red with rage.

"Excuse me!" Amelia gasped, her heavy chest heaving with the effort of her short jog, making the thin fabric of her dress strain dangerously against her curves. "There’s no need for that kind of language! Can’t you see the poor man is hurt?"

The driver looked at Amelia, his eyes briefly dipping to the massive, bouncing cleavage practically spilling out of her floral neckline before he scoffed in disgust. "Listen, lady, don't let this old fuck fool you. This piece of shit just threw himself at my bumper going two miles an hour. He’s a fucking scam artist."

"The agony," the old man on the ground wailed, clutching his knee dramatically. "My brittle bones..."

"Oh my, look you hurt him so badly. Apologize now!" Amelia said righteously pointing at old Samuel's figure.

"Suit yourself, babe," the driver sneered, slamming his van into gear. "Don't say I didn't warn you when this old bastard robs you blind." The van tires screeched as he sped off down the suburban street, leaving Amelia alone with the groaning stranger.

Amelia immediately dropped to her knees, her sheer dress riding up her soft, plump thighs as she reached out to the old man. "Oh, you poor thing. Are you okay? Let me help you up."

The old man ceased his fake groaning for a split second as he looked up. His eyes widened, immediately fixating on the deep, plunging view of her pale, braless breasts dangling mere inches from his face. A greedy, lecherous gleam flashed in his eyes as his dirty mind quickly shifted gears from a cheap insurance payout to a much better prize.

"Holy sh-," he wheezed, his voice thick. "Thank you Mrs....." he inquired looking at the shiny ring setting on her ring finger.

"I'm Amelia," she smiled sweetly, completely oblivious to his leering gaze. "Here, lean on me."

As she hoisted him up, the old man eagerly wrapped a wrinkly, spotted arm around her waist. He let his hand drop entirely too low, his rough knuckles casually brushing against the plush curve of her ass. Amelia simply attributed his heavy, wandering hands to his loss of balance.

"My house is right here. Why don't you come inside and I'll make you some coffee while you rest that knee?" she offered brightly, the strict, barking orders Marcus had given her just an hour ago completely vanishing from her innocent, empty head.

"I couldn't impose," he said, feigning **** while his fingers squeezed her waist. "But a cup of coffee sounds heavenly, sweetheart."

Once inside, the heavy silence of the sprawling, half-unpacked house swallowed them. Amelia guided him to a stool at the kitchen island and turned her back to him to start the coffee machine. Samuel watched her walk away, his eyes tracing the sway of her wide, fuckable hips with predatory hunger. He took in the expensive appliances, the packed cardboard boxes, and the utter lack of anyone else around.

"You have a beautiful home, Amelia," he said, plastering on a warm, grandfatherly smile as she turned back around to hand him a steaming mug. "I'm Samuel. I'm a retired salesman, actually. I live just across the block."

"Oh, a neighbor! That's wonderful, we just moved in here yesterday, and I didn't have anyone else to talk to." Amelia beamed, leaning her elbows on the counter, inadvertently pushing her tits up even higher.

Samuel reached out to take the mug, letting his coarse fingers deliberately stroke over her soft, delicate hand. "Such soft hands," he murmured. "A crying shame for them to be doing all this heavy unpacking alone. Where's your husband, honey? A lucky bastard like him shouldn't leave a gorgeous girl all by her lonesome."

"Oh, Marcus had to go to work," she answered brightly, completely missing the blatant fishing expedition. "We just moved here yesterday, and it's his very first day at the new precinct! He's a police officer."

Samuel swallowed a sip of scalding coffee to hide his sudden flinch. A fucking cop's wife. It was dangerous, incredibly stupid even, but looking at the dimpled, clueless smile on her face, he realized she was so naive it might just work. She was practically begging to be taken advantage of.

"A cop. A fine, upstanding man, I'm sure," Samuel recovered smoothly, reaching out to pat her forearm affectionately. "And surely a young thing like you doesn't have kids to wrangle yet?"

"Oh, I do! Liam is nineteen," she giggled, clearly flattered. "He just left for his college orientation."

"Nineteen?" Samuel choked, genuinely startled as his greedy eyes raked over her smooth, unblemished face and tight waist. "Jesus Christ, sweetheart, did you have him when you were in kindergarten? You barely look a day over twenty-five."