This is a growing collection of my stories. I appear to favour writing about sex and death, not always together. I'm also writing two books. Some days it feels like most other people inhabit a world where you can aimlessly wander into vendor-created wonderlands and purchase things you never knew you needed - for entertainment. The mind boggles. I believe it's because I wasn't allowed to watch television as a child. I just don't get some things. I'm ok with that

Friday, May 21, 2010

Irish



I’d never met him before, really, and I was nervous. I’d decided to randomly turn up on his door step and surprise the poor bastard. For better or worse. We’d met a couple of months previously but only briefly. I’d spoken to him a couple of times, heard his sexy Irish drawl and wondered about him.

As I pulled the big yellow beast into a parallel park on the wide, unfamiliar street I could feel the slick of perspiration on the steering wheel. I cursed again the fact I hadn’t been able to buy a sheepskin steering wheel cover. Still, it wasn’t from lack of trying. I slid my hands down the wheel’s slim metal frame, felt the warmth of the engine beneath my feet and the comfortable sag of the old bucket seat against my back.

Outside were the trees and a dying afternoon. It seemed to be saying “What?” to me - as they often do in small, quiet, unfamiliar towns. I loved the wide verge and the cared-for houses, chicken- wire on wood frame fences. I took a swig on my bottle of warm water and waited. I wondered if he would know what my car looked like, having never seen it and whether he would know it was me behind the wheel. I briefly felt like a stalker but decided that life was made up of the experiences you’d had rather than those you wondered about and I was doing the right thing.

I got out of the car, lit a joint and sat on the bonnet. Or rather I perched my arse on a corner of the front of my car; I’d been driving for five hours and she was a little too warm. A bit like me, I could feel the flush in my cheeks as though I had drank half a dozen glasses of red wine. I knew my hair was a mess, I didn’t care.

He came walking around the corner carrying a shopping bag full of breakfast food. He looked relaxed, like he’d knocked off work and there was another bloke with him. I presumed it was the guy he lived with.

I called out his name.
He said something to the other guy who continued walking towards the house. He came towards me. He said he was surprised to see me but he smiled and seemed at ease and not put out. He had a grin that sparkled on his face and I relaxed a bit.

He put the groceries down and took a long look at me and my joint. I felt a bit presumptuous but I dragged on the end of it some more anyway and put it out. He liked my belt, he told me. It made me look down at his hands, I’m not sure why but they looked warm and used and sexy. I met his eyes.

I offered to take him somewhere so we drove to a park and stared at the Aussie bush and yarned. I wanted the car to be a lounge not a couple of seats and a steering wheel. I wanted to touch him but I wanted him to touch me first. He did. He put his hand right up my thigh and said something tasteful like “why don’t you sit on me?”

“Because I’ve never even kissed you” I said and laughed. I got out of the car. We tried to start again and as he talked I leaned against him. He had his back on the car, I played with the shirt on his chest and we both talked about nonsense and enjoyed the feeling of all that sexual tension caught in the air between us. I wondered if he could feel me shaking. Eventually I met his eyes and kissed him. It was ok, warm and hesitant.

I licked the inside of his mouth and his response was almost too much, he pulled me to him with those big arms I was a little afraid of, I could feel his strength and he dove into my mouth with warm passion. After a while I pulled away, I knew I was shaking and I could feel the thick weight of his hard-on on my thigh, against my pelvis. ‘I wanted you fuck me somewhere special with all the time in the world, not here, near my car at some random park at dusk’. I told him. He drove me to his house; or rather he made a call and borrowed a friend’s flat for the night. I was thrilled. I organized for him to walk to his mates and pick up the keys while I went to a seven eleven and bought tea-light candles and condoms. I wished for massage oil but didn’t have any. I picked up Chinese.

When I showed him the plastic bags full of food he said
“Is this what we’re gonna eat?”
I nodded.
“I want to eat you” He said and I let dinner get cold. There would be a microwave. I kissed him again and pulled him to me with more grace this time. He was big and warm and the tension he held in his big frame turned me on. I whimpered. My breath was shallow and I wanted him.

He talked a little bit in that strange accent of his, but we didn’t seem to have anything in common besides a sense of humour, a sense of adventure, and this; the warm moments before sex that made us feel like magic; made lust a pretty thing with its glittering eyes and short, fulfill-able promises.

I’m sure he could see the darkness in my eyes; I was embarrassed at the simplicity of it. I wanted him. I didn’t know what he thought of me but I wanted tonight and this unfamiliar man who seemed like a beast made for passion. He took his shirt off and let me caress his skin. It felt like Christmas. I noted each tiny inch of his body, the scars and imperfections and in that moment wanted to own every one. He noticed the birth mark on my middle and I told him that when God was spit roasting me into life he painted one brushstroke twice in one spot instead of the whole thing evenly and he kissed it, even licked my side a little and stretched a hand up to cup my breast which was still trapped in the material of my shirt.

He took my shoes off, sat me on the couch and finally let my warm breasts touch the hard wall of his chest. He ran his hands over the skin of my belly, under my breasts along the fabric of my bra and I ached for him. I wanted him to touch all the skin he couldn’t yet because of my clothes. I ran one palm up the length of his back before clambered to my feet. My cheeks were flushed and my breath was heavy, or was it shallow? The air seemed sweet and lonely, a long way away from his touch.

I insisted he sit where I had been on the couch and sat on him, I wrapped my arms around his big neck and we kissed some more. I couldn’t get enough of his touch, his tongue. I pushed my pussy onto his cock, through his jeans, grinding into him. Then I crawled down off him and knelt on the floor, I licked his chest and he kissed me again, awkwardly, hungrily. I flipped the latch of his belt and drew away.

When I finally released his cock from the prison of his pants I was a little surprised at the size of the thing, I thought he’d been all talk. It was big and pink and Irish. I put it in my mouth. I ran my tongue around its perimeter and felt him reach out and touch his hand to my hair. I shook my head ‘no’ and he understood. At first he put his hands behind his head out of the way but as I licked the length of his shaft I looked up through my lashes and caught his eye. I felt like a porn star for that second and he put his elbows away. I thought he said ‘fuck yeah’ but I wasn’t sure.

I was busy, attending to the giant pink lollipop that was a thousand times more fun that a lolly. I wondered if he’d be one of those guys that jumped if you pushed a finger up his arse. Despite myself I giggled and I hoped he would just think I was being playful. That made me giggle more and I stuffed more of his length into my mouth to forget myself. Then I “butterfly” ed his cock and wet it more with each lick.

I stopped for a second and wiped my mouth. “What?” he said but I didn’t know. Not until he stood up and picked me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he walked me over to the kitchen counter. He unbuckled my jeans and pulled then off, he barely looked at my knickers and slid his hands under my butt on the counter and pulled me to him. He still had his pants sort of half on and this time the fabric was delicious.

He kissed my lips and he slid me along the counter a bit, he bent me backwards until I was arched on the table and took my pussy very gently in his mouth, as he licked my centre with a practiced tongue I thought “Oh god he hasn’t even fucked my yet”. The thought made my limbs turn to liquid and I let him caress me, he teased and I quivered. I came as he buried his mouth in my pussy. “I want you to fuck me” I begged, quietly. I don’t know if he heard me. He stood up. With his hands he caught the flesh above the bend in my knees, pulling my arse over to the edge of the counter. He kissed my mouth and he tasted of me.

He took the rest of his pants off, covering his ample cock in a condom quickly so as not to break the moment. It worked, before I could sit up in surprise he pushed into me and entered my intimate space. The effect was amazing, I gasped and squirmed. He stroked, a little more length this time I felt my insides opening like a flower. I couldn’t get enough of the feeling. I held on and let him set the rhythm. Sometimes he watched his sex move in and out of mine, stealing glances at the blissful expression of surprise on my face, sometimes he picked up the pace and made sounds; I held onto his back as he kissed me, thrusting into me making us both rock with his movements.

I was at sea in waves of ecstasy. Love and sex are everything and nothing all at once, these moments express it best. It was the best of everything all at once and all too soon I was soaring above the world, in my own little box of glitter and ‘hooray’s. I came in his arms and squealed as my orgasm rocked through me. ‘Come for me?’ I pleaded, trying hard to get the words to form in my mouth. Another orgasm fizzed through my veins and he smiled down at me “Of course not” he drawled “We’ve got all night”.

I climbed down off the counter and he let me gently to the ground. I giggled like a fifteen year old and went to find the bedroom. I wondered if there was a bath. I could hear him following me down the hall…

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