The Cat's Cream
by Patricia Ethelwyn Lang - Printed in Issue 16 of In The Buff

The shadows around the apartment building reminded Craig of Julie -- her long coaxing fingers caressing his tool into a hard wand, sending his semen, like diamonds, flying up in the sky almost like the water fountain down in Kensington Gardens.
    "Blimey! Get a hold of yourself mate," he scolded himself silently. The tough little man, dressed completely in black from his ski mask over his face down to his soft shoes and gloves, crept towards the flats by the rubbish skips.
    He had kept an eye on this building for a couple of weeks, reading his paper on the park bench. He would casually flip the pages, while watching the inhabitants of the building come and go - such as the proud old man trying to stand tall as he walked with his cane. Then there was the old woman who went out for groceries every other morning at ten. She always came back with the boy carrying her food in two bags. Craig would wonder whom she fed with all that food. The women office workers left nothing to his imagination, with their torn stockings and dull skirts marching off to grind away yet another worthless day. Craig gripped the edges of his paper when he saw them. They reminded him of Julie, especially the one with the large eyes, and thick eyelashes.
    "Bloody hell," he had scolded himself severely for that one. No distractions!
    Finally Craig spotted him. His suit was immaculate. He had a portfolio that reminded Craig of Wall Street, the City, if nothing else, Barclays Bank.
    It was the day Craig saw him carrying a bag marked with the local jewellery shop's insignia that Craig decided to make his move. He was a fair thief if nothing else. Wasn't about to rob anyone worse off then he was.
    Craig wasn't stupid though. Having spotted his pigeon he wasn't about to dive in for the kill, until he had a fair idea of the setup. Nor would he tell his Julie about the new job. She just knew when Craig grew silent and disappeared for hours on end that he was… busy. He had faith in her knowledge of him.
    And that night, as he crept toward the building, it was the thought of her voice in his ear, as she kissed his cheek that morning that kept Craig's cock standing to attention. His breathing was a bit too fast, though. Shallow.
     "Steady," he silently said. He was quiet as he slinked closer to the building.
    The day of first seeing 'Mr. Rich', Craig's handle for him, he followed him, discretely, of course.
    When Mr. Rich went into the building Craig rose from his park bench and hurried across the road. Taking a deep breath Craig went up the stairs, his head bent, pouring over a piece of paper in his hands. Best not to look up when he entered the building. Later he had laughed at his ability to be able to see so well out of the corner of his eyes.
    "Your mother must have been a cat," Julie purred, and moaned, once, when Craig thrust his tongue deep into her wet caverns.
    And that day, as he studied the non-directions on his paper and didn't miss a step going up into the building, he had to admit Julie might have a point.
    However he appeared to the outside world, Craig could see where Mr. Rich was getting his mail. Once he disappeared down the hall, Craig looked up from his piece of paper and looked over to that specific mailbox. It was Suite 207.
    He left the building as quietly as possible.
    By trade, Craig was a handyman. So the next week, after finding out Mr. Rich's apartment number, Craig parked his van near the flats. Toolbox underneath one arm, the short muscular man jogged up the stairs and went from floor to floor, looking for any problems in the halls. He looked for loose wires, a cracked tile or a rug that needed re-stitching. The trick was, he had discovered a while ago, was not to be too loud about it, just do it and see what he could see.
    Julie insisted that Craig work out at the gym. Grumbling, Craig always complied. He ran through the park too, three times a week, on the path, around the pond. It did him good to watch the swans, with their graceful necks and the gentle dip of their heads in the pond. He needed such peace in his work as a thief.
    His stakeout worked. He saw Mr. Rich leave his apartment twice a day, once in the morning, and then late in the evening, for dinner.
    "Not much of a social life," Craig mused to himself, as he rode home down the street where the trees were covered with ivy. They crowded the street those trees. Sometimes Craig thought he was in a horse and cart with those trees hanging over head.
    Finally, after a few weeks of carefully inspecting the building, fixing a few bolts, and trying a few doors, Craig decided to make his move. Plus, Julie was getting restless. She was a patient woman, Craig knew, but could only take so much being left out of the picture.
    The building was decidedly quiet this particular night. Eyes narrowed, carefully looking from side to side, Craig made a mental note to light a candle at church, in thanks for such good luck.
    Mr. Rich had just gone out for dinner. Creeping between the trees in the garden right behind the building, Craig stepped up onto a large stone which he had placed underneath one of the back windows. He slithered through the window and fell into the hallway with a soft thump. Quickly springing to his feet he tiptoed down the hall.
    Mr. Rich's door was decidedly easy to open. Craig had inspected it during the week and during the day. With a couple of thin wires in his hands, he stabbed at the keyhole once, twice, winding the wires around like a spider delicately inspecting her catch. When he heard the door click, he breathed once more. Opening the door, slightly, Craig glided into the apartment. At this point, he stopped and breathed slowly.
    "Steady mate," he advised himself.
    Ignoring his hard-on, Craig slipped through the hall into the apartment. He didn't have much time. He found the jewellery in the bedroom. The glitter of the stones in a bracelet caught his eye. Quickly grabbing the piece up, he opened the drawer and rummaged around a bit to find some money. Done. He heard someone talking out on the street. Eyes wide, Craig wound his way through the apartment one more time and oozed out the door. He closed it behind him and stuck the wires in one more time. He held his breath.
    "Come on, come on," he silently groaned at the lock.
    Finally he heard the click. Good. Door locked. He tiptoed down the hall and went out the window he entered, shutting it silently.
    Julie would be there when he got home.
    "Coooeeee," he warbled as he opened the door to their apartment.
    He looked in the living room. The window was open and a breeze was gently playing with the white curtain. Magazines were scattered across the coffee table. Craig idly took a look at some of the open pages - scenes of the Mediterranean, white sands, blue skies and a few wisps of cloud. One magazine had a story on a castle of some king in a far away country. The pictures showed the insides of the castle with the treasure chests on display; glittering jewels and spangled gold coins.
    Craig chuckled and hefted the small sack in his hand. He might not have gold, but...
    Julie was in the bedroom. She was lying on the bed with her legs wide apart. As he came into the bedroom Craig was treated to the sight of her light blonde pubic hairs rising underneath the delicate skimpy white lace nightie she was wearing.
    She wasn't really aware that he had entered. Eyes closed she had her fingers down in her crotch. The pink lips were already swollen as she lazily stroked them.
    "Like brushing paint," Craig thought, his member so rock hard he might have come just watching Julie.
    Striding over to the side of the bed, he emptied his small sack onto her stomach. Paper money fell like whispered thoughts upon her flesh.
    The top of her nightie was undone. Craig could see the firm mounds of her breasts rising with her laboured breath. He slid the money up and tickled her nipples with it as he placed the diamond bracelet on the hill of her dense pubic hairs.
    "Oh!" Julie gasped. Her eyes flew wide open.
"She has such pretty eyes," Craig thought -- big blue eyes, and the longest of lashes.
    He smiled. Fingers still in her crotch she gazed up at him, her mouth still open, like the letter 'O'.
    "Tell me about it," she breathed.
    So he did. Pacing around the bed like a jungle cat leisurely stalking his prey, he described how the shadows felt like her fingers on his cock. He described how when he climbed into the window he grazed his knee. He described how the rattle of the glass made him shiver at the fear of detection. He described how the floorboard creaked when he moved which made him hold his breath and dance lightly across the floor. He described how he could barely see the key hole and yet still managed to fit those delicate wires in just right. He described how the rich man's apartment was like a tomb, yet he, Craig, a mere nobody, was able to penetrate and grab the prize for his darling Julie...
    And she listened as he talked, her fingers busy as she pushed them further and further into her intimate parts. Her chest rose rapidly while she listened. Sweat appeared on her brow as she moaned. And she moved her fingers out of her crotch, which by now was so swollen that it hung between her hips like a hungry animal - bright red. She strummed her fingers on her bud, until she gasped again. Moving her fingers up the slope of her stomach she swirled the money up and over her breasts where her nipples were tiny pinnacles of hard rock.
    Watching her intently, as he talked, Craig had pulled his pants off. As soon as he saw her hands move across her breasts he leapt upon the bed and thrust his cock into her.
    She screamed as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
    He thrust himself fast and sharp into her, gasping in her ear as he bit her neck and hung on tight. His hands moved down the sides of her body until he clasped her bum. Her nightie fell upon the bed, as he pushed her hips up. He rammed his shaft into her again and again, finally depositing his creamy sperm in the bank that he craved.
    "Blimey," he chortled to himself as he kissed her long neck.
    While they both sough to regain their breath he pulled the diamond bracelet from her soaked pubic hairs.
    She weakly chuckled and stroked his rough cheek.
    Craig smiled. With a kiss on her full red lips he put the bracelet on her thin wrist. He knew he'd probably get caught some day, but the sex afterwards was worth it.