Mad Gold (Providence Gold 2)

There was a space in my garden where I could put whatever it was that chickens needed, and maybe I could clear out one of the spare rooms so they had their own space inside. Could you potty train chickens to go in a litter tray? I didn’t really want poop all over my house.

It was at that moment that a thumping on my front door scared the shit out of me, and I shot upright on the bed almost sending Baileys flying. At the last second though, I caught his body as my ta-tas catapulted the poor baby.

The knocking on the door was accompanied by a buzzing from my bedside table, and for a second I thought my vibrator had turned itself on in the drawer somehow. A quick succession of thoughts flashed through my head.

Was there a vibrator poltergeist? Was it trying to use mine? How would that even work?

Could you get an Alexa compatible vibrator?

Realizing that it was my phone vibrating - something I’d forgotten it did when I silenced it - I carefully pulled it out of the drawer, taking a second to also check that my vibrator wasn’t actually buzzing away at the back too.

Looking at my screen, I saw that Madix had text back.

Madix: It’s me, baby. Open up.

What the hell? Why didn’t he just text me his response if he had one? He didn’t have to come all the way over here.

They say curiosity killed the cat, but as I opened that door to let him in, and his excited doggy companion barreled into my legs, it almost ended up killing my pussy. It was the pussy between my legs it almost killed, and this was most probably because I didn’t have a cat.

How was this my life?

And I never even got to use my vibrator.

Madix

Ah, hell. The clothing looked even better in real life when she opened the door, looking confused as she stared up at me. My brain totally flatlined, unable to even muster up a hello as I took a step forward.

Proving that he was a little shithead, Harambe ran ahead of me and jumped on her legs before I could stop him. The weight of his body pushed her back into the door, causing it to swing open wide enough that I could now get past her. Not that she wouldn’t have let me in, but it gave me extra time to think about what I needed to say without adding in the problem of forming the words, ‘can I come in?’, too.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all?

When she just stood there with her back to the open door, I stepped forward again so that I was in her space. There was no way I was staying out of it right now.

“Close the door, baby,” I whispered, cupping her cheek. She seemed to want to look anywhere but at me at that moment, so I used that hold to gently tilt her head back to look up at me.

There was just over a foot difference in our heights and I kind of liked it. I’d always imagined having a tall girlfriend or a tall wife – and it was way too soon to say that we were headed that way – but I liked our differences in heights. It just added to Dahlia’s list of appealing qualities, all of which I’d always assumed I wouldn’t want in a woman.

“I’d really rather not,” she said so quietly that I almost didn’t hear her.

My head jerked back slightly, but instead of asking the question that I really wanted to – did she not want me here? – I took in her posture and the way she was standing. She had one foot lifted slightly off the floor, but it was her hip that was lifting it rather than a bent knee, which struck me as odd.

The height difference became an advantage as I straightened up and looked over her shoulder, even though she tried to block me by leaning backward. This shift made the door move slightly behind her, almost knocking her off balance. As she leaned forward again to stop her backward fall, I got to see what was holding her back.

When she’d been knocked into the door by my dog, apparently she’d hooked the side of her panties onto the door handle.

Don’t laugh. Do. Not. Laugh!

It took a lot of self-control, but I managed it. Just.

“Do you…” I trailed off and swallowed hard. “Do you need a hand?”

The lacy looking fabric was stretched so tightly that it had to be hurting her!

Crossing her arms, she looked up at me defiantly. “A hand with what?”

“Baby, your panties are stuck fast. If you move even slightly, that door is going to move either backward or forward, and with one leg stuck in the air, you’re not going to be able to stop yourself going with it.” I stopped and left her to absorb what I was saying. It was true, she really could end up hurting herself, regardless of how funny the situation was. When she took her time, I pressed my point further. “And if you fall, you’re gonna end up in agony when that fabric either tears or keeps you suspended in the air.”