Doorway - A Super Quick Story

(Note: I’ve been dusting some of the creative fiction cobwebs out of my head, and one of the best ways to do that, for me, is to do a freeform short story based off... something. My friend commissioned this art piece a few years back from an artist by the name of ChuckManX. I saw it, and I thought it was really sweet, so I took the liberty of putting some words to the page. When inspiration pops up, grab onto it. 🙂)

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He wasn’t sure if she had heard him turning the corner in the hallway. She seemed a little distracted as she busied herself — he took a moment to appreciate how dexterous she had become with her toes over the last few years. Small moments, like now, as she deftly retrieved the pen that had fallen to the floor, and then one smooth motion, kicked her foot upwards to make contact with an outstretched hand that was waiting behind her back.

But even after all this time, he still couldn’t last very long without being infatuated by the shape she presented from behind. Her slender waist and thick thighs were accentuated by hips that flared ever so slightly, seemingly immune to the three rounds of childbirth she had endured. And of course, The most telltale souvenirs: what those three pregnancies had left behind. Her breasts, long and teardrop shaped, flaring outward from the sides of her body, downward and full, until gently, roundly tapering off at her knees.

He noticed her arching her back, in the same way that a professional swimmer prepares for a particularly challenging high dive. He had watched her do this before. Every few months, against the same door frame. Like a mother takes pride in measuring how much her children have grown (they certainly had other doorways for this purpose). This was a moment very much like that, but personal, and sensual. Momentarily, she would transfer the pen from her hand to her other foot, and with a tactile, intense awareness of the shape of her own incredible body, and not requiring any use of sight, she would install, parallel to the bottom of her distended right breast, one more notch onto the door frame. One, he knew, that would be lower than the tick mark she had created the same way a few months before.

He also knew, as he crept up behind her with his arms outstretched for as stealthy an embrace as he could manage, that she wouldn’t mind if he helped her out a little.