My doorbell rings and I rush to the hallway. My heart leaps into my throat, my pulse quickens and my skin becomes moist. I have been waiting for you, here in my house, for so long. Now you have come and I can hardly wait for you to enter. I stand at the back of the long hall, itching to rush to the door and loving the exquisite prolongation of this moment, my body becoming weaker, my love for you becoming stronger.
From my warm secret hiding place deep in the dark of my house I see your silhouette through the frosted glass. You press your nose to it and you see nothing but shadow. Already penetrating through the door, I can feel the heat of your body . It pulses and throbs like mine. I know you can feel how aroused I am. On the security monitor I see you finger the button of my doorbell again and flick it gently, teasing me. You rub it gently with your palm, then lean in and take it tenderly between your lips. Your tongue caresses the small, round, red, stiff lump. The sound of your breathing through the intercom deepens and slows. You hear my moans of anticipation though the door. You know how much you're turning me on. Again you press my button, the bell rings and I gasp with excitement, my entire body thrilling to the touch of your fingertip and the sound of my bell. Ding! Dong! Ding! Ahhh, ring it! The long hall between me and the door is waiting for you. You don't need my permission to enter. You know I want you. So you push the unlocked door hard with one thrust. And you're in.
Your bald head enters first, it's pate shining from the street lights, then darkening as it moves inwards. Your lovely long body follows and the walls of my hallway shudder. One or two framed pictures fall to the floor and smash on the tiles, but I don't care. You see my face right at the end of the hall poking out from behind the grandfather clock while the rest of me is hidden. I smile at you, blow you a kiss and beckon you to come to me. As you edge further inside the walls suddenly slide inwards and squeeze you, stopping you from making further progress. My hallway embraces you, feeling every contour of your rock hard, muscular form. The veins in your neck stand out as more blood pumps into your head turning you a bright shade of purple. Pictures and furniture crash around our ears. As you push, my walls grip you more and more tightly and you are forced to withdraw. Not until you are again at the door do the walls relax and allow you to make a second attempt. You slide forwards, gingerly at first, eyeing the walls with suspicion. The heat in here is making the walls perspire and when they grip you again the lubricating sweat allows you to push yourself further in than last time, but only slightly. For the second time you are forced to retreat, the walls rippling and contracting around you until you are pushed back through the open door and are once more standing outside on the porch.
Tears of frustration leak from your eye and ooze down your skin. You brush yourself down, straighten up even more, lower your head and rush back inside as fast as you can. I gasp with fright and the pleasure of seeing this masculine display of brute force. With your head poised just inches from me you are once again frustrated in your plan to reach me. The hallway's strength is too much for you. Both walls, the ceiling and the floor have the length of you wrapped tightly leaving just your head poking out from between wallpaper, carpet and ceiling. The lamp shade dangles from around your neck while you are choked by the wire. The bright berry of your head looks ready to burst. Eventually my hallway relaxes slightly. Bulges in the walls, floor and ceiling carry you back to the door. The light's wire catches your head briefly until the wetness of your skin allows it to slip through. You hover on the threshold, your head thrust forward just inside the house.