She scoffed at the interruption as his finger held down the buzzer from outside. Gazing over at the clock that hung high over on the far wall, she noted with a scolding that her visitor was early.
She would be sure he would be punished for this misdemeanour.
She opened the door of her Regents Park town house and looked upon a balding, stout looking man in a cheap business suit and brief case clung to his hand as it hung nervously by his side. She held a burning cigarette leisurely between her fingers which she placed between her lips casually. She looked down upon him on the porch, holding her gaze for a moment so the street view could witness his arrival, to his obvious displeasure as she blew a plume of smoke into his red face. He pushed past her into the apartment with a haste that did little to add to her urgency.
He gripped his briefcase tightly with both hands as he shifted his weight on the spot nervously as he came to a standstill on the deep shag pile carpeted hallway.
'What's the matter, you gonna piss your knickers?' she threw at him with a glance of condescendence as she past him on the crimson carpeted hallway.
She stopped and stood before a door, turning her head to face him, fingering the key in a way that accentuated the red tips of her long fingernails. She smiled to herself as a glint of sweat built up on his head and made its escape down his high reaching forehead.
He hurriedly made his way towards the door, as he approached purposefully she inched it closed to block his way.
'Your mother never teach you any fucking manners? Not even a 'hello'?' She said to him.
He didn't grace her with an answer and pushed past and down the stairs with a familiarity that suggested he had come this way before.
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stood before a dimly lit room, illuminated only by sparsely placed candles that threw nightmarish shadow shapes on the walls as a huge, high reaching Art Deco mirror hung from the main wall, arched downwards to portray the cowardly, grotesque beings they really were.
She stepped lightly, one stair at a time with no urgency, as her full frame came slowly into view with each step. His eyes followed her ankle, stretching up the path of her slender legs, wrapped within a silky stocking that ran all the way up and over her slim sex to her suspender belt.
She slipped open her gown to reveal he luscious, full breasts, delicately nestled within a brassiere that flattered her and made him blush like the pervert he was.
'You're whore of a mother should have had the decency to let you drip from the hole between her legs, you miserable, pathetic excuse for a human.' She said out loudly, walking around him, disregarding him completely.
He turned to keep her in his line of vision as she slid past. She walked over to a leather armchair which she sat in and relaxed back. Her elbow rest on the arm of the chair, her slender wrists supported her chin almost without touching as she looked over him in silence.