What Gus isn't getting

Sex under the stars...

Blake is slamming into Penny. His hot, thick, cock contacts her inner core and it’s alarmingly pleasant, his impressive erection buoyed by continuous strokes and handfuls of Penny in the night. Her fleshy, pert arse glows like a moon-lit peach in the Nullarbor’s open air. Gus, Penny and Blake are camped at the end of a day’s drive through nowhere. Their makeshift campervan set-up is surrounded by darkness and red dirt. Scratchy, small plants stick out in the stillness near the ‘bight and the land falls away to sudden cliffs. It's late, aside from their fucking there is stillness. Gus sleeps, oblivious in the campervan adjacent. A canvas bedroll laid out on the dry dirt serves as a cushion to their lovemaking. Clumps of stone or gravel press bruises into soft flesh. None of that matters now as Blake grunts with effort, driving inside her, on top of a gorgeous woman with endless legs.
During the day the wind whips up from time to time and sprays sand-dirt. It’s mild now and as he plunges into her softness he’s chiefly concerned not by the wind or the dark cliffs but how it feels to be inside her, deep in a new embrace that connects the tip of his penis to the back of his ears.

It’s like heaven, this fucking out-of-doors. How come no one thought to include him until now?

Penny smiles up at him, her hair around her shoulders on the mattress, working its way to a forest of knots as she rocks with each thrust. Her cherry lips are parted, eyes wide, all colour in them lost in the dim light, the white of her teeth beckoning him for a kiss. He lowers his head and Penny wraps her ankles around his hips. She parts her long fingers around his neck, their mouths connect noisily. He’s pushing into her and withdrawing and Blake scoots one of his thumbs between them and locates her clitoris. At first she squirms on it and then he holds his hand steady, thumb crooked, resting on just the right spot to faithfully, relentlessly caress the little bead at her centre each time they rock, each time their flesh touches. He hopes the exquisite torture will break her open. He’d like that, to watch her unravel. She mewls incoherently and twists away from his hot mouth, drawing her bottom lip through her teeth. Her eyes are eyes clamped, shut fighting it and simultaneously trying to scale it.

He likes the squelching sound of her sex as they fuck; her endless, beachcomber legs wrapped around his hips. He’s home, in the smell, in the driving need in which they’re both immersed. She scoots up onto her elbows, pushing their bodies apart and he responds slowly, foggy from fucking. She slides out from under his big frame, Penny brushes against his thick lips in a reassuring kiss (it’s not over). She kneels. She’s halfway down his body with her knees pushing into his torso, forcing him to rearrange. Blake’s eyes are dark and dilated. Salt from the sea air clings to his long lashes and his beard stubble frames his chin, he's a picture of dessert.

She encourages him to roll onto his back, stiff cock in the cooling summer air. She’s naked except for her socks. He slaps her arse as she clambers across his hips and her flesh shivers. A dart of desire sears him, commencing with his cock. Blake holds his thick dick, stroking possessively, reassuring himself that he’s ready. The expression on her face tell him all he needs. He relaxes. They are new lovers and tonight in a night of firsts. He isn't going to apologise for clumsiness, not when his actions playfully extend their intimacy, spinning sexy from awkward. All at once Penny sinks down onto his erection and it doesn’t matter anymore. Her pretty pussy and the warmth of her inner thighs consumes him in lush, silken skin. A grunt curls forward from the back of his throat. He stares up at Penny in appreciative disbelief. Her breasts sway as she repeats the action, slick hotness on his engorged cock and the ghost of a smile on her lips.

He’s buried inside her, her chestnut hair falling around her face to block the night sky.
“I’m going to do this,…” she announces airily from a place where there is only stars.
Blake’s mind is a void; she threatens to engulf him in sweetness like ripe pomegranates, it's sharp like slate. He can’t hold out much longer.
“… For a bit..”

Penny’s words land softly as she rides him, up and in, the column of his rigid sex disappearing inside her like a song. It makes her moan it’s so good, her golden-syrup-insides humming to draw out a secret.
“And then I want you to fuck me better.” Leaning in, five o-clock shadow in her hands, nose-to-nose. “Harder”.
Her warm, soft, breath on his face. She smells like roast potatoes, wine and lust. Blake thrusts up unexpected and quickly, the shock making her gasp. It’s a dirty sound in the quiet night and he almost loses his load.
She sits still then, impaled, goading him, one hand exploring his chest, wreathing her slender hand through springy chest hair and hot skin. Her cheeks are flushed. He cups her hips, one in each ham hand until he thrusts his cock once more into the peach of her sex, heels digging into their bedroll to gain purchase, knees bent; it feels like fire and gold.

“Oh” she mouths and looks away, he’s too beautiful, all stubble and flushed severity, looking up at her in the dimness like he might like to eat her alive. Unkempt, unraveling and deliciously male. In a flicker of a moment her orgasm whispers.

“Don’t close your eyes” he rasps, but the heat of his gaze is intense and it’s all she’s got not to tilt her head back and go tumbling over the precipice.

“I...” she starts to say and doesn’t finish. Penny wants Blake to kiss her as she cums. Her nails grip his shoulders, digging into flesh and every thrust is more delicious than the last. Finally he gives her what she wants, capturing her floundering face, wetting her lips with his.She loves the sandalwood-and-Lego scent of him, the harshness of his breath and his abrasive, midnight facial hair. Her greed spikes and she shouts into the night, Blake looks shocked, covering her mouth with his fingers to prevent her too-loud sounds and she’s licking them as she cums on his cock, her muscles contract as she rushes towards orgasm, squidgy and fantastic. He bites his bottom lip.

To slake his own need he picks up the pace. He flips her body so she’s on her back and her breasts spread, nipples bouncing with their fresh rhythm like strawberries lost in custard crème. Blake’s on his knees, bracing against her thighs. He squeezes a fat thumb between them and every stroke is a tease to her sopping clit, leading them home.

Over the edge he topples, withdrawing in a split second between heaven and orgasming. His seed spills from his penis onto her pale stomach. Penny half-smiles in the dim light. She rolls out from under him and he flops down on his side.. The night is still and the darkness comforting; it’ll be a while before they feel the cool of the evening on their feverish skin

Blake’s breathing slows, a beautiful, glowing white-girl on his bedroll, sated. Above them the Milky Way is spectacular, nature’s light show in the desert. Blake turns off the lantern, releasing countless stupid bugs from their light-filled confusion to disperse into the night. He draws the mosquito net around them and splays a golden, hairy arm over her middle as he relaxes.

“Yeah” she says, still breathless, “it’s nice out here”.
Blake nods, looking up at the stars.
“We mustn’t tell Gus.”
“Oh I’ll be sure to” he deep voice rumbles out into the night, through a smile.
“You prick,” says Penny lightly, the next minute, improbably, she sleeps.

The undoing of Lorenzo Vannostrand

Lorenzo is reticent when it comes to bedding the lovely Ashleigh. Is she too young for his tastes? Is his status as her employer an obstacle in their path? Ashleigh embarks upon a campaign to seduce the older man and discovers his surprising secret.

"A portion of mankind take pride in their vices and pursue their purpose; many more waver between doing what is right and complying with what is wrong. “

Ashleigh heaved. His hands were very distracting, one clamped around her thigh, the other strumming an unsteady rhythm on her swollen clitoris. His fingers were like a shy lizard, sliding in and out of the heat of the sun, playing in her intimate crevices and still he talked at her. Even for a learned woman his technique was surprising.

“It’s Horace”

Lorenzo’s eyes shone with mirth.

“It is.”

“Applicable now?”

The ripples of pleasure began to build to a crescendo inside her. She fidgeted as best she could, her long legs splayed out in an unladylike fashion, Lorenzo’s firm hold the only thing preventing her from sliding free of the stern, high-backed wooden chair.

“The housekeeper will be back any second” Ashleigh gasped.

She teetered on the edge of collapse. Dare she let this man drive her to orgasm in the drawing room of her employers house?

“Stuff the housekeeper”.

His voice was low. Driving this woman to distraction was proving a terrible strain on Lorenzo’s self control. Still in her heels, her stockings rolled down to her mid-thigh, her skirt hitched up above her hips; Lorenzo could see she was luxuriating in his touch. He was still fully dressed, a boner the size of a kransky weighing in against the expensive linen of his trousers. Any more stimulation and he would leak pre-cum onto the starched, beige fabric. His caresses intensified on her slit, sliding two warm fingers to and fro, dipping into the velvety folds of her delectable vagina.

Ashleigh was unlike any of the fragile beauties he had pursued in the past. They appeared like rare insects speared on the tiny pins of his polystyrene personality when compared with the natural zest of this woman. Ashleigh oozed intellect, stamina, and virtually shone with intensity. It was enough to distract a man from his work.

Her pussy quaked beneath his touch. He knew enough of women to assume she was about to explode. One of her hands came up to grip his sleeve, steadying the frantic movements he was administering to her snatch. Her blue eyes bored into his. She was drowning in feeling, her lush mouth, ruby red with desire. She made him horny and it made him mean. Without warning, Lorenzo withdrew his hand. Ashleigh gasped.

“You’re right.”

Ashleigh pulled her skirt down over her thighs, silent and numb. Thrown from the extremes of intimate pleasure to the coolness of rejection in seconds, she shivered.

“Anyone could discover us here. I lost my mind for a moment. Wash up, I’ll go and find us something for lunch and we’ll rejoin the others”

Lorenzo strode from the room, Ash watched him go. These halls were potentially crawling with house guests, most of them male and geriatric. She couldn’t very well finish herself off in this grand old manor. Her pussy throbbed. She rubbed a hand over her mound and cursed.

Days passed and the most she got out of her boss was the occasional acknowledgement that he had been ogling her. In amongst the half dozen colleagues that were assisting with his cataloguing and over the large array of text before them on the substantial library table, his mouth would curl ever so slightly upward. He would nod almost imperceptibly at her, eyes bright with lust. In those moments she hated him, he was killing her with longing.

She tried in vain to remove him from her thoughts. Just when she thought she might have conquered her baser instincts, her resolve would crumble. The simple, unnerving sight of him rolling up a shirt sleeve, or tucking his unkempt, dark hair out of the way, reaching for his notebook, was enough to send her heart skipping.

Ash tried to reason with herself. He was only going to be in her life a short time. Long enough for the contents of his grandfather’s library to be categorised as part of the deceased estate. A few weeks at most. Since kissing her drunkenly, passionately, on her first evening at the house and aside from the single, other, tantalisingly incident in his drawing room, Lorenzo had gone out of his way to steer clear of her.

There was nothing to be done but frig herself silently to sleep each night, remembering his hand between her legs and taking care not to shake the bed springs into creaking violently, leaving the older gentlemen in the adjacent rooms, in no doubt as to the exact nature to her nocturnal activities. Ash was finding herself more and more giddy with pent up desire by the end of each work day. Even watching his lips close around mouthfuls of boring, English desserts at their collective dinner table, was erotic beyond compare. Ash knew she was lost.

If she really wanted an almighty, lustful interlude, however brief, she would have to instigate things herself. Four more days and nights passed. On Thursday, whilst helping herself to a pile of hard-covered antiquity, her ample breasts jiggled as she pulled the books across the table. Ash took one from top of the pile, allowing herself the briefest of glances at Lorenzo. He stood, spell-bound, all but drooling at her. The other occupants of the room seemed oblivious.

She bit her bottom lip, unabashedly continuing her insolent appraisal of him. He flashed fire in her direction and typically, looked away. Ash cleared her throat and kept working. The older man dropped a book to the floor. One of the more senior specialists eyed him with disdain. Ash giggled. She felt it bubbling in her throat and couldn’t catch it before the sound escaped. Excusing herself she made her way quickly outside.

In the courtyard, Ash no longer felt the need to giggle. Alone, she quietly despaired. She unpinned her hair, running both hands through her thick tresses and massaged her scalp. She tilted her head upwards, into the afternoon sunlight and tried to empty her mind. She counted, she inhaled deeply and sighed, relieved as normality began to pump through her veins. Another sound caught her off guard.

By herself in the secluded garden, Ash had no comprehension of the picture she painted. Her long, auburn hair tumbling past her shoulders in thick waves, her arms raised above her head were pulling the delicate material of her blouse, stretching it to accommodate her breasts and accentuating every voluptuous curve of her ripe, tidy figure. When she sighed, her chest rose and fell deliciously. From the doorway, Lorenzo observed the scene in amazement. He was utterly out of ideas on how to avoid her sexual allure. The woman was seduction personified. His cock throbbed. Without thinking he paused and scratched his neck.

He need not have concerned himself with pondering a course of action. The rustle of his movement alerted her to his presence and the look she shot him warned him of an equally sharp fire burning within her. Ash felt something odd, as though her heart had fallen to the pit of her belly. Her hammering pulse filled her ears. More than that, she was acutely aware that her moment had arrived. Letting this situation slip past her would spell the end of any possible connection. She held him with her clear blue gaze, stock still. Staring.

“You make me crazy Lorenzo.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Ash blushed. She couldn’t bear to say it again.

“I make you crazy. I’ve thought of little else since I have had my hand buried in your cunt. You are a distraction. A goddess. A curse.”

“Why did you stop?”

In a habit now familiar to her, he pushed the sleeve of his business shirt up past one elbow. Ash caught herself wondering why he didn’t have better quality sleeve clips. She stepped towards him.

“I want you to touch me.”

Lorenzo laughed, a dry chuckle that caught her off guard.

“Good god girl. I’m afraid I’ll liquefy.”

Ash blushed. She kept moving, he met her halfway, not stopping when they were toe to toe. Instead he manoeuvred so her back pressed against the uneven stones of the building. She closed her eyes and waited for the touch of his lips. It never came. Ash’s eyes flew open. He stared down at her, feasting on her face, the intensity of his gaze devouring her. It confused her, she didn’t feel the need to be idolised like a doll. She wanted to be fucked and enjoyed. She wanted at last to have the cavernous ache within her filled by Lorenzo’s cock. Ash had seen his man meat pressing on his pants at their last 'juncture’ and wanted it for herself. Passion overtook her and she caught his crisp, proper shirt at the waist, tugging it free of his pants.

She began unbuttoning his shirt front, not stopping to assess his reaction, wanting only to drive him into enough of a frenzy to kiss her, to wake from his reverential stupor and stuff her with cock she deserved. Her eager fingers found their way past his cotton shirt and on, beyond the singlet material, to the heat of his skin. She reached her target of flesh and let go with an inward gasp of appreciation.

His abs were hard, the body beneath her hands was toned and taut. Ash wondered at how a learned, bookish man found the time to hone his muscles. At once her stomach jumped. Her body full of curves, would he find her not to his liking? Perhaps he would find her nakedness repulsive, fleshy, lacking? Ash hid her eyes.

Her reaction had consequences she could not have expected. Her lapse into self-consciousness was met with a searing kiss from Lorenzo, the older man having mistaken her hesitation for dismay at his lack of spontaneity. Terror made him cast aside his usual restraint. He kissed her with the enthusiasm of a school boy.

His hot mouth on her lips meant she stopped thinking. Ash accepted his flustered, short kisses and began teaching him to French kiss, guiding the movements of his mouth and introducing her tongue. He was an avid pupil and within minutes her body writhed against his, pressed between his chest and the wall at her back. She ran her hands through his hair, unconsciously pulling him closer. Lorenzo ground his cock into the cleft of her thighs and kissed her between snatched, shallow breaths. He felt a novice beside this young siren. Ash was nothing if not adept at introducing him to passion.

Lorenzo was prideful. He wanted her lush body with an intensity that shook him. He wanted too, that she not know she would be his first. The thought was alarming, cautioning him to be careful and to show restraint. He knew Ash could easily drive a man to orgasm without delay. For himself, he feared premature embarrassment. He would have to distract her with her own desire and please her fully before he turned his mind to his own satisfaction.

Ash was beginning to suspect his inexperience. She had no doubt he knew how to find pleasure on a woman’s body, as he had shown her in the drawing room. Today, things seemed to be spiraling out of his control. Could this amazing, sexy man be a complete novice to the ins and outs of sexual wonder? Her mind reeled. His cock pulsed between them. She pushed him to arms length, breathing erratically.

If he was a virgin, it would explain his many conflicting reactions to her. Ash searched his face. His hazel eyes stared back, dark and lustful. His lips were swollen and he too breathed as though having surfaced from underwater.

“Am I your first?”

Her hand splayed on his ample pectorals, his heart beating on her hand through the singlet, he looked away from her. Ashamed? With her pointer, Ash brought his face back around her's once more. Softly, she kept up her line of questioning.

“Am I to assume you’ve never... found ultimate pleasure with a lover?”

He said nothing.

“Lorenzo?”

His five o’clock shadow caught on her fingernails. His expression was achingly sincere.

“You are a witch. A vixen. How am I to help myself?”

He drew her hand from his chest. In silence, he lowered his lips onto hers.

“Make love to me?” Ash spoke so softly he wasn’t sure he’d heard it.

Safe to assume he didn’t need further encouragement, Ash enveloped his neck in her arms. She licked and nipped at his lips and he darted his tongue in and out between hers, teasing. She swirled her tongue into the warmth of his mouth. He groaned, drawing her closer. Ash flicked the buckle of his belt. She stripped him of his pants, they pooled at his ankles. His crisp, linen boxers followed. Privately, Ash marveled at the ironed-in fold lines on his undergarments. She kept the observation to herself.

Next, she pushed him to sitting position in a metal garden chair. She straddled him, rocking her hips on his cock. Ash was careful to turn his balls blue with abrasiveness. She didn’t show his member gentleness or too much attention. Faced with an inundation of softness, perhaps an inexperienced man might explode. In the back of her mind she kept hold of the hope that if she handled this correctly, if she handled him correctly, there would be future opportunities, other moments, for different kinds of lust.

Ash bravely went about her seduction. She grabbed a handful of his thick hair and pulled his mouth away from hers. His hazel eyes wore surprise. With a finger, she tapped his nose a little patronisingly and clambered up to continue the show. From her vantage point, a few untouchable feet away, Ash took her time to undress. She popped each button of her muslin blouse until her surprising, red, lace bra began peeping out. Ash made short work of her skirt, popping the buttons and shimmying the garment to the floor.

She took her French knickers and her stockings off in one movement. Ash stood brazenly before Lorenzo. Legs splayed, his cock rigid, like a succulent prize, appreciation shone in his eyes. He still wore his singlet and Ash could see the definition of his muscles though it’s weave.. She wanted more, dreamed of him naked before her. A pity now wasn’t the time. She would make do.

Her sweet curves were a delicious shade of milky white, as though she had never bared her body to the sun. Her breasts were large and perky, sitting beautifully beneath the lace of her unexpected underwear and the fabric of her blouse, unbuttoned to her navel. She padded barefoot towards him, Venus personified, offering her body. Lorenzo shook with responsibility.

He was at least half a decade older than her, perhaps more. Aside from the fact that very few women had been semi-naked in his presence, he had never seen a woman looking so ripe and fuckable. No stranger to satisfying himself with picture and moving images of lustful acts, Lorenzo knew quality. No one, in any of the publications or his wildest dreams, had ever looked as delectable as she.

Ash bent at the waist and kissed him. First her hot lips burnt a path up his collarbone and finally she arrived at his mouth. Hungrily, he accepted the cinnamon taste of her. Her creamy breasts greeted him, peeping out from their material confines. Lorenzo growled. He removed her blouse, he fumbled like a novice with the clasp of her bra and she let him. When at last her breasts swung free she offered them to him, easing further forward to allow him to capture her sensitive nipple in his mouth.

Lost in the smell of her, sucking on a pink tip, Lorenzo became dimly aware she was lowering herself onto his cock. His engorged, aching member was finding it’s way home with impressive intensity, as though it possessed a mind of it’s own. Her pussy lips coated in her juices, the smell she exuded grew stronger. As his dick began truly disappearing, he appreciated her softness. Lorenzo’s eyes popped, he felt dizzy.

“Breathe” She whispered helpfully, blissfully engaged in her task and trying to watch his face.

He throbbed. she buried him up to the hilt. They stopped. Conversationally; the thick edge to her voice the only give away as to the true intimacy of their situation, Ash added

“You’ve got a really lovely cock, Lorenzo”. His disobedient member bucked within her.

“Steady.” She looked him squarely in the eye and rocked her pelvis.

He moved within her, reveling in a new feeling of possession. Ash’s eyes closed slowly and she fought to remain 'teacher’.

“I’m not sure how much longer I can take this. I’ve wanted you so long.” She planted a searing kiss on his jaw. “If I cum quickly, I think it’s only fair you should too. ”

Ash barely got the last words out. Beneath her, Lorenzo shifted his hips and it sent little ripples of hyper awareness through her achingly sensitive pussy. She rose up and dropped her pretty bottom onto his thighs, completing the first successful stroke in their coupling. A part of her wanted the excruciating hotness to last forever, the rest of her wanted to cum buckets on his ample pole. She rocked her hips, rose up and stroked.

“I have an idea” Lorenzo kissed her.

He steadied them both and stood, backing her into the wall once more, tucking one of her knees in against his side. His cock head slid up inside her and he thrust forward, his buns clenching as he struggled.

“Ooh” Ash gave him, appreciatively.

Lorenzo pushed into her again and again. Ash adored it. He was strong enough to hold her upright, fit enough to build up to a punishing rhythm and he seemed to be making a super human effort not to unload unnecessarily. Ash clutched at his neck, burying her face in the smell of him. Within minutes her pussy juices broke enthusiastically over his cock and she came.

“Oh” She offered softly “It’s.. It’s...”

Lorenzo was pleased at his lover’s achievement, he need no longer hold himself in check. He increased his strokes so he slid almost completely out of her, thrusting back in with a punishing certainty. Only one more stroke and he was done, shuddering and shaking as he unloaded into her. Lorenzo's body slumped, a great deal of his substantial weight shifted onto her. Ash ran her hands slowly up and down his back, astounded at what they had achieved.

A noise caught them both off-guard. Lorenzo snapped from his rapture. Men could be heard, a group of their colleagues were making their way down the corridor, towards the glass doors and the little garden. Lorenzo moved first, rushing to his pants in a crumpled heap at his ankles. Ash couldn’t quite process what was happening, she fumbled and shook, her fingers numb and heavy, failing to obey her command.

Unsure how they both managed, the couple were set to rights by the time 3 of their colleagues came into view. The men barely gave them a second glance as they passed by on their way to the great hall. In the moments that followed, Ash raised her skirt and adjusted her knickers. Lorenzo smoothed the front of his shirt with his hands. He watched her through his lashes as she put her appearance in order. His hair was delightfully rumpled, his clothing slightly ascue. He wore a caged expression.

“We should do this again” His tone was soft, it matched the question in his eyes.

To his dismay, Ash shook her head in disbelief.

“Here?”

“In the privacy of a bedchamber, Goose.”

Ash laughed.

“I’d love that.” She broke the awkwardness, kissing him. “You did a fine job. It was...”

“Astounding?” The older man grinned at her, a peculiar light in his eyes.

Isobelle in a different light

I rewrote it, I like it heaps better... it's got more suspense and more lust

At last, Isobelle sits in the expensive silence of Ezra’s car. Her freshly shaven thighs peep out from the short hem of her favourite dress. On her body the fabric pools like liquid.

“We’ll go to my place”

Ezra glances at her. She is not relaxed. Good. He likes it when he has the upper-hand.

At the high rise, Ezra uses his keys and a security pass, leading her through the foyer and up the lift. It’s up and up. From the balcony Isobelle can see the city sky - line. She stands outside, enjoying the warm air, whilst he gets the drinks. Eventually he stand s in the doorway, silhouetted by the kitchen lights. Isobelle’s pulse races. It’s real. Her legs begin to tremble. She turns from him to the view, trying to rekindle her strength.

“So lovely” Ezra’s voice comes from behind her. Does he mean her or the view?

In a lazy movement akin to seduction, Ezra closes the distance between them, rubs his palm up her back, his full lips descending on hers. It’s a fierce first kiss, possessive and brief.

“What is it that you’re looking at?” He curls an affectionate finger on the warm, soft flesh of her upper arm. Isobelle can’t think.

“I... I...”

She clears her throat, unable to read the sardonic promise in his glittering eyes. She licks her lips for the sweet taste of champagne. Ezra eyes her, experiencing a jolt of lust .

He chuckles. “I’ve got ideas about you and I.” He speaks softly. "Things I wouldn’t want to do in a train.”

It’s the timber of his voice. Isobelle thrills, between her thighs, her swollen pussy is lush and wanting. Lost in the moment, Isobelle starts to take off her clothes. Ezra ’s admiration is written on his face. The slippery fabric of her dress descends to the floor and beneath it, her light curves are coated in black. A balconette bra hugs her breasts and presents them, below it, her knickers are tiny and lace.

As he surveys his prize, Ezra can see the pulse in her neck. It’s an act of bravado from this nubile, sweet lady. Her racing heart beat giv es her away. His keen eyes take in the scene and his cock begins to throb. There will be no misunderstanding tonight . Preamble has shredded with her dress.

Ezra remains motionless. His silence gives him a n air of r oyalty and Isobelle plays along. Parting her lips in anticipation, she pads sensually towards her stranger. His blue eyes take in the scene, his dark skin glows in the lamp light and for now, her gaze is focused on his full mouth. She is close enough now to brush his chest with her hand . She reaches up and plants a kiss on the firm skin of his neck. He smells of salt, faint, expensive cologne and sandalwood.

Gently easing her tongue from her mouth she tastes his flesh and stands on tip toes, planting another soft kiss near his ear. Ezra can hear her breathing as it changes. He is no fool and knows his power but she is coy and hesitant . Her frame too slight , her actions too gentle and yet, Ezra finds his interest in this beautiful creature intensifying. Tonight he could take her innocence and the thought rouses his senses to fever pitch.

Isobelle takes a series of breaths to steady herself . She is shaking. She kisses the corner of his mouth, offering a suggestion. Still, he does not respond. Isobelle takes a step back. Blinks, taking in the rising bulge in his expensive trousers.

Ezra imagines her tight, virginal pussy closing in around his proud cock. A jolt of electricity fuels his veins. He kisses her lips, gentle at first, insinuating his tongue into her wet, inviting mouth . She responds and leans into his kisses, straining for more. Ezra dips his hand down to cup a breast, burning a path with his mouth to the protruding flesh of her breasts. One hand strokes the skin on her flat stomach and Ezra can feel her quiver in answer to his touch.

She wriggles and presses herself closer inadvertently rubbing her almost naked form on his growing erection. He groans, corners her against a wall and allows his cloth covered cock to nestle in the inviting hollow of her thighs while his fingers trace the material of her bra, setting her sensitive skin alight. Isobelle whimpers as Ezra releases the catch, bending an eager head to suckle. Her puckered, pink nipple glistens from his caress. Isobelle runs her feverish fingers through his thick, dark hair. He looks up from lavishing attention on her moist breast. Ezra takes in the scene. Her skin is flushed, breathing unsteady and her eyes are desirous pools.

“I want you to place your hands on me”

“Fuck me.” She says softly “I’ve dreamed of you for days”

He chuckles, a sound that is soft and dense like wood and clover.

“What would you do?”

Air between them hangs heavy and empty a moment too long.

“I would take you in my hand" Isobelle flexes her slender finger for effect “I want to take your velvet steel in my mouth

“Velvet steel?" Chuckles.

Isobelle tugs at his pants with shaking fingers, his cock bounces free from its cloth cage.

She licks a finger and a thumb and slides her digits down from the head of his smooth, almost purple shaft to midway down it’s length . His cock is t hick, with a heavy head and a slight bend. It makes her pussy ache to claim him. She resists, drawing out the tension.

Isobelle sinks seductively onto her knees, s he hesitates only momentarily, eyeing his tool. It’s obvious she is unpracticed. Audibly, Ezra sighs. He makes ready to hide his member and lash his rampant need for her pussy.

“No no. It’s alright. I want to”

Ezra’s cool blue eyes are expressionless .

She takes the tip between her lips.

Then, as she takes more of his length into her hot, wetness , he bucks against the intense pleasure in surprise. Isobelle slurps and smiles as much as she can, shift ing her weight on her knees and tuck ing into her task. Soon his ample pole is slick with saliva, Ezra face-fuck ing in and out of her pretty lip s. A repeated, unrelenting action that succeeds in stirring his blood. Her innocence is replaced by eagerness. He grunts in approval and tries not to cum.

“You’re a good girl”

Pre-cum dawns on the eye of his cock, she can taste the salty, heavy drops. As he thrusts and grunts she can tell it won’t be long.

Abruptly.

He stops . Pushing her from him, looking down at her dishevelled hair, her swollen lips .

“You are too good at that”. More gently now. “Maybe that is enough for tonight”. His tone is ragged but his reason is firm.

Isobelle palls.

“Bu..t”

“I want to enjoy you like the treat you are ” Ezra rakes a hand through his thick, dishevelled hair. “Perhaps, for tonight, you should leave”

Ezra reluctantly begins to button his pants around his extended, aching pole. She sits dumbly on the floor in confusion. From the corner of his eye he watches her, hopes she is crazy with lust and will let him bury himself in her. She has to come to him, it has to be her choice. He retrieves her dress and thrusts it at her. She looks at him pleadingly.

“But you have undressed me with your eyes for weeks”

Her voice is soft.

“You are not even sure what it is you ask of me”

In her eyes he reads disbelief.

“I want you”

“What do you want?”

Isobelle hesitates.

“Say it”

Quietly. “I already did”

“Say it again. I need to hear it”

“I want you to fuck me”

Ezra ceases to adjust his clothes, he teases the bush at the cleft of her legs and sinks two digits into her folds. Isobelle’s lips part in surprise. He rubs the delicious wetness, finding her clitoris. Her knees almost buckle.

“Is this what you want”

“No” and then mildly, between gasped breaths. “I want cock.” She smiles dreamily, her whole body alive and humming with need . “You can tell I want it . Ca...an’t you? ” Isobelle gasps as he thrusts his digits inside her. He continues to pet her in a steady rhythm that brings her closer and closer to ecstasy. He glides his finger over her clit, teasing the nub gently. She lets out a little moan.

“Please?”

A heart beat.

“Do you like my mahogany table?”

Ezra’s tone is dry. She nods.

“Go over to it. Lean over so your breasts touch the wood. Show yourself to me”

Isobelle does just that. She leans across the table. Her plump pussy faces him.

“Spread your legs”

Isobelle is aware that if she shows him her sweetness he will see the pearly sheen of desire on her flesh. He will see for himself that she is ready and aching to be plundered. With a sigh she spreads her thighs.

In the glow of the lamps on the sideboard, Ezra can indeed see evidence of her enthusiasm. He makes no effort to go to her, keeping the distance.

“I want you to lean forward, stretch yourself across my table”

Isobelle inches her torso further onto the table. Her pert bottom automatically pushes further into the air. She breathes in slowly, trying to keep the intake of air steady so Ezra won’t hear how aroused it makes her. She fails.

“What would you like me to do?”

She takes the erotic silence as a cue and looks over her right shoulder at him.

“I want you to do what you were doing before. Touch me”

A pause.

Ezra sees her wiggle her delectable rear in anticipation but he makes no move to go over to her. He takes a sip of his drink. The moment stretches. Isobelle looks over her shoulder at him once more . Her expression is flecked with annoyance. A smug smile plays on his lips.

“Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“But...?”

“I know you have been masturbating, you practically said so yourself. Show me”

“No! I...”

Ezra is measured in his movements. He places his glass down on the side table, unbuttons one and then another of his shirt buttons at his collar. Finally, deliberately, he is closing the distance between them. Isobelle makes as if to turn and greet him for a kiss. He places a palm firmly between her shoulders and the small of her back. It keeps her at her position.

Ezra releases his cock once more from the confines of his clothes. He throbs. His prize is so beautiful. He stands behind her with the head of his manhood nestled on the warmth of her sex. Isobelle takes frequent, shallow breaths.

“You won’t touch yourself for me”

“No.” Her voice is uncertain.

Ezra removes his gift. Still facing the table, she feels the loss of his cock. The moment had been almost momentous. Isobelle’s small frame is caught in a slump. Ezra braces himself.

In a swift, calculated movement he guides his cockhead into her dripping folds. Taken by surprise Isobelle is tight and on his first thrust Ezra experiences a heavenly sensation. Isobelle too, cries out.

“But...”

Ezra strokes once more. Now they are finally connected the feeling is tenfold, the anticipation has been too great. As his pole glides in and out of her pussy Isobelle revels in the new sensation. His large dick fills her slick passage, exploring and retreating in a ever-increasing rhythm.

“Ahh”

Isobelle lets her breasts slide against the finely polished wood of the table. As he pushes into her, she can feel her pelvic muscles as they quiver from the inside, Isobelle hears him groan. A sound of pure, gut-wrenching lust. Almost a smile on her lips now as she feels her body take her up over the crest of a mind numbing orgasm.

“I’ll teach you. You are mine" Ezra’s voice in her ear.

His pace is so fast and deep. One foot on a chair thrusting. He still feels good, sliding in and out of her, but Isobelle feels the slow come-down from her first orgasm. Behind her, the always-composed Ezra, with his pants around his ankles, his shoes still on - is clearly lost in the moment. Isobelle’s giggle becomes a squeak as she feels him grow even harder. Eagerly, Isobelle pushed back and Ezra at last finds his release.

Ezra finds himself pliant and sated as she turns, hips first, and plants a heated kiss on his unsuspecting face.

“That was my first. You were mind blowing. Promise me there is more?”

Ezra raises an eyebrow.

Highrise

There are certain things to be said for what dizzy-ing heights make people do. Isabelle didn’t know heights would make her pulse race and her skin tingle until she stood up there for the first time… The way the ground begged to be remembered by her feet. How the empty air seemed so appetizing. She resolved not to work at heights, for though she loved it, she feared that one day the temptation to fill that space might become too great.

Isabelle had a temp job at a marine outlet that left her answering phones and feeling dead at night. She journeyed to work on the train and had somehow taken a liking to the second carriage. It had never occurred to her to follow a pattern or establish a routine for herself but she liked the certainty that came with a feeling of knowing her destination.

Out walking one night, she took herself up eight flights of stairs in an abandoned factory near her flat. She climbed the pigeon-stained stairs to the very top and found a broken window to access the roof. As she stood up there on the certainty of concrete she thought about two things. She thought of how she wanted to talk to the man she had noticed catching her train from the same carriage every day too; and that being above the earth with the luxury of a birds-eye view was a pleasure she responded to with a passion.

Isabelle thrilled herself with the feel of the cold wind, the un-giving concrete and the view of streets and places. She pressed her breasts on the cold tiles as she stood in the shower at her flat later, recalling the wind. Under the warm buzz of the shower head she let her hand stray between her legs, gently bringing herself to orgasm dreaming of open spaces. She craved the hard feel of a lover’s hands and the warmth of passion but she excelled herself, caressing her slippery pussy and working her fingers into the warm flesh, gently and consistently at first and then with a desire to thrust into herself she pressed her thighs together and added pressure to her hand. Later as she towel-dried her blonde hair in the lounge, elated.

Mark turned out to be a less-than-averagely talkative train companion. She worked up the courage to approach him one morning and looked again for him that night, bursting with questions but he seemed overwhelmed. They lapsed into a silence punctuated by the movement of the train on the tracks. As he went to alight at his usual stop he said “I’ll take you to dinner. I’d like that.”and wrote his phone number on her arm like a school boy. Isabelle skipped home to her individual-portion-sized frozen meal.

Later, she allowed herself to daydream of him as she knelt on the floor in her lounge. She splashed baby oil on her breasts and attempted to rub each nipple dry with erotic slowness, feeling her juices begin to collect. Soon each pink nipple stood proudly to attention like firemen and she clipped one between her thumb and index finger, forcing a noise in her own throat. She heard her breathing change. As she sat on her haunches circling her ample breasts with the palm of one hand she thought of Mark’s body pressed against hers like it had never been, she felt her pussy grow lush and warm and ache for a release.

Frustrated that she should want to be caressed so much and distracted so often by fleeting passions she showered and slept. On the train the following morning Mark was nowhere to be found. He appeared as usual on the homeward journey and it was he that began the conversation. Mark stood beside her and closed the distance between them when he spoke, as though they were intimate friends.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you” he said.
Isabelle’s mouth fell open a little. Brazenly she met his eyes
“I want you too” She said levelly, feeling the warm rush of desire through her body. His eyes darkened and all too soon he got off the train at his stop.

At home she ate a cold snack as she found the piece of paper where she had written down his number. “Mark” she said when he answered
“Yes hullo who’s this?”
Isabelle very nearly hung up.
“The girl from the train” He laughed lightly back into the receiver. She shivered with relief.
“Do you want to see me?” he asked
“Yes” said Isabelle.
“Let me take you somewhere special?”

She gave him her address and he turned up in a commodore. Mark drove them back into the city which was quieter now and parked easily on a street right downtown. He led her to a building nearby. Using his keys and a security pass he took her through the foyer and up the lift. They progressed to level 23. At a landing and they got out.

“We have to take the stairs from here” He grinned and took her by her hand. He led her up through endless stairwells and finally out onto a balcony that looked out over a tennis court, a freeway and the river. He smiled at her warmly and opened his jacket to cushion her from the wind.
“I like the wind” She said resisting his embrace and she felt his cold fingers touch the hem of her skirt.
She drew herself to him then and let him encircle her in his arms, they were warm and heavy and she reveled in the feeling of his tense skin beneath the cotton of his work shirt. He picked her up and placed her bum on the railing. She dared not look down but felt a shot of adrenaline that warmed her whole body.

She stuck a cold, brave hand down the front of his work trousers, keeping his eye contact all the while. She found the strength of his aching cock. It was hard as rock and smooth beneath her hand. He didn’t seem surprised though his expression clouded a little once she ran her hand the length of his shaft. She unbuttoned his pants, shuffled off the rail and eagerly met her hand with her mouth.

After too few wondrous strokes she got up to kiss him again. She knew she tasted of him, he returned the kiss, his mouth hot and sweet. She pressed her soft breasts against him. Mark instinctively kneaded her flesh, through her shirt and she strained against his touch. She remembered the pleasure of his cock and returned once more to caressing him with her tongue and her moistened lips. The wind picked up around them and Isabelle cried out with the pleasure that rocked through her before he even made a sound. She could feel herself creeping toward orgasm as she let herself get caught up in the urgency of the moment.

Finally, he plied her mouth away from his aching cock though his body shook with desire. He lifted her up on the rail; he pulled her knickers aside to make way for his large cock and accidentally ripped the fabric. She giggled and swallowed her laughter as he drove his length into her wetness. She inhaled with shock and pleasure and allowed her eyes to feast on his mouth, on the sensuous pleasure ripping through her and the tingle of awareness at their surrounds.

In a moment he was kissing her again, tasting the sweet change in her mouth as she came. Only then did he allow himself to relax into the warm pressure of her, driving his shaft home in a few solid strokes. She sighed with pleasure, riding the last waves of it before asking him quietly to put her down. He kissed her as he plucked her ripe arse from the barrier and set her feet firmly back on the concrete of the 30th level.
“Wow” she said and turned to admire the dizzy-ing view.

not just wicker baskets and big hats: a picnic

Sandy walked by the door of the bathroom, in a hurry to remove her drab work clothes. At the sound of Tully humming she stopped and peered in. Her flat mate was immersed in bubbles and warm water, eyes closed and her head resting on the edge of the bath. The steam hummed to the ceiling from out of the bath, slate bath tiles beneath the tub wet, as though she had been splashing in the pleasant warmth. Sandy took in the sight of a relaxed lady, soaped and glistening, bubbles running over her svelte arms and steam gently rising from the tub.
Tully opened her eyes and Sandy started with dismay, had she been staring? Tully gave her a lazy smile and sunk deeper into the steaming warm water, when she resurfaced her long black hair clung to her neck and face. She brushed it out of the way and looked up at the other woman
"Oh Wow,this is So good"
Sandy only smiled, thinking to herself what a picture Tully looked, like this. She marvelled at how amazingly rare it was to see her so relaxed. Normally, the two of them ran about making their lives and their working lives a perfect fit. But today was Sunday. Sunday nights were special in so many ways. Ordinarily Tully loved them.
"I see you" Sandy offered softly. The atmosphere in the room was charged with a certain flavour. Spice, Sandy grinned to herself and took a step closer, she was now inside the bathroom. Sandy put down the bag at her side.
"That looks OK, you know. So do you" She finished deliberately, hoarsely. Sandy hedged her bets and took another step closer. Tully sat up out of her steam-bath and the bubbles began to fall away, leaving her lithe body, glistening in the heat, exposed. She leaned over and almost put her arm across to preserve the illusion of chastity, stopping the bubbles as they pooled above her nipples. Sandy could hear her heartbeat in her ears and choosing this moment to make her next move - even to herself, the sound of her shoes on the tiles was grating. She slipped off her socks. As she walked towards the bath she felt dampness seep into the spaces between her toes. Sandy felt the heal of her foot growing damp. She leaned on the sink casually and pulled them off, slinging her socks into the ikea clothes basket. Tully just watched and nearly disappeared under the water as she feigned disgust. There was a wry twist to her mouth, pulling her lips into a sensual, mischievous expression. The moment lit itself into smaller spotfires. Perhaps a white elephant appeared and disappeared in the steam across the mirror. Neither woman noticed and Sandy bravely closed the distance between them. She sat on the edge of the tub and only paid the most precursory attention to the fact water had began seeping into her jeans around her hip for Sandy had other ideas on her mind. Her preoccupation allowed her to lean in.
"Do you have a headache?"
"No"
"I know something that's great for stress relief" Sandy's eyebrow arched
Tully grabbed her by the second button on her work blouse.
"You're a dag" it was the last thing she said before her soft lips found their target on Sandy's own. She closed her eyes and drank in the sweet, plushness of the delicate embrace. Sandy smiled too.
"What if I got in there with you?"
"What if you did?" Tully lifted her arm out of the warm waters, reaching up to cup the other woman's shoulder. Water ran down the sleeve of Sandy's white shirt and the fabric clung to her arm. She shivered. With one foot in the water and her black pants soaked to the skin, Sandy kissed the other woman's warm features, her eyes, her damp eyelashes that stuck together so seductively, the nub of her delicate nose, by the time Sandy claimed her lips Tully was quivering, shaking with a need to be touched, engaged, explored.
In the quiet of the house the noise the water made as it wrapped about her leg caused her partner to jump, sliding her bum around on the porcelain of the tub. She squeaked in approval and Tully giggled.
Sandy got in, fully clothed. As she did, warm suds slopped out all over the black tiled room, making the floor glossy and reflective. Awkwardly, for the first time that afternoon Sandy slid her feet in until she was crouching at one end of the tub.
"Like that?" Tully shot her a heavy look and pulled her, Sandy's weight fell across her friends slight, naked form and they kissed once more. As the kiss deepened Sandy could hear Tully's breath becoming shallow. She explored the interior of her mouth, gently at first, with sedate darting intensity and then choosing to burn her way into a more steady motion. Tully tasted incredible. To Sandy she tasted of chili and chocolate... and hope.
She sloshed to her knees and pulled away from the embrace, encouraging Tully to stand in the shin deep water, coercing her as she too, made her way upright. The water made the material of her thin blouse cling in all the right places, over the swell of her breasts and the delicate softness of her epaulets, the material coming in at her navel, clinging to her taught midriff. She wore a singlet beneath, and a white lace bra.
Sandy managed to coax Tully all the way upwards by brushing her arms and raising the other woman's lips to hers as she rose to standing. Wordlessly, Sandy got out. She didn't take her eyes from Tully's blue ones, unbuttoning her shirt and peeling it from her soaked frame. Tully came to her, the suds continuing to fall away onto black tiles. Hungrily wasting no time reuniting their lips, and in return tasting her warm water-soaked lips made Sandy weaken, she let out a little moan.
"And I'm cold" she said softly, breaking the embrace and smiling coyly into Tully's close, perfect face. Tully's blue eyes rounded in surprise at the change of tact. She almost replied but Sandy continued to strip. In a moment Tully's hands were on her stomach, trailing her breasts, pleasing the budded nipples with pressure, offering caresses alternatively from the sweet warmth of her mouth or the comparative, abrasive coldness of her hand. Boldly Sandy rounded Tully's hip in her palm, slipping her hand around to cup her cheek. At this Tully inhaled, catching a deep breath of sweet bathbubble smell and the citrus tang of Sandy's perfume. Was it her body or a scent? Surely nobody smelt that good naturally, or tasted so good, or moved with the same strength and suppleness and most of all, made her want to lead the way into a much more passionate embrace that would satisfy them both; Sandy mused. She pushed her hand around to the curve of Tully's stomach, her wet fingers making the journey sticky and tantalisingly staccato-ed. Tully flinched and giggled, the noise dying in her throat as Sandy continued on her path towards pussy, brushing the bath-moisture from the springy hairs, easing two presumptuous fingers past her folds, into her centre and making her wriggle with delight on Sandy's hand.
Still dressed in her clinging black pants Sandy ran her other hand down Tully's neck. Lost in a sensation of pleasure, the other woman bent her head and moved inside the caress, Sandy trailed a path with a playful hand, down her supple back, her two fingers still buried at Tully's core, moving ever so gently around, in an exquisitely sedate motion. In a moment of clarity Sandy chose to turn Tully to face away from her, until she could witness her own reflection. The sight of her flushed face and her bright, uncharacteristically dark eyes, took her by surprise. She looked so luschious, so alive, as to be almost feverish. The moment sang with promise.
Sandy's hand probed and Tully's knees almost buckled. Her fingers wrapped appreciatively around the bathroom sink basin.
'Don't move... any ..muscles' Sandy requested in a low, husky voice.
She rummaged in her bag and almost broke the moment. In her haste a smile played on her lips and she balanced her slight weight on the balls of her feet.
'I've got chocolate, wouldn't it be fun?' Tully only watched as Sandy unwrapped the Picnic bar, casting the wrapper impatiently onto the floor behind them. The compound chocolate coated toffee peanuts never looked so intriguing before, never so suggestive as in the oestrogen charged confines of their share-house bathroom. A kiss sealed the moment and Tully gripped the sink
'Go on then Tiger, make my afternoon' Tully shot at her dryly. Sandy raised her eyebrow but she failed to comply. She bent her head to kiss Tully and their lips met.
'What would you like?' Sandy asked softly, after a moment. The words out of her mouth whilst still touching the other woman's lips.
'For you to fuck me'
'Like this?' Sandy placed the cold head of the Picnic bar at the delicate crux between the swell of Tully's bottom and her sex. Tully shivered and parted her thighs ever so slightly. In the mirror she saw Sandy kiss her shoulder blade, her collar bone, and then as the blood rushed to her ears and she was overcome with desire, Tully could feel the magic of Sandy's hand sliding the chocolate bar into her, only a fraction, before withdrawing. The suggestion of more to come drove her crazy and she wiggled her attractive rear whilst turning to look at Sandy in the room.
'I dare you' her eyes glittered. Sandy didn't need a dare and she pushed the improvised dildo into the folds of her sex, removing it at the same pace until she established a gentle rhythm. Tully sighed, pushing back, allowing Sandy set the rythmn as she kissed the corner of her mouth, her neck. When she arched her back Sandy worked a trail of soft kisses down her nape, responding to the growing urgency of the other woman's need and removing the basin as a barrier between their flesh. They came together, torso's touching, a pleasurable sensation of soft flesh on flesh. All the while Sandy continued to work on Tully with the bar, by now the heat of her pussy and the weight of her love juice began to melt the chocolate. Sandy let the bar fall to the floor to be cleaned up later, she licked a chocolate covered finger and leaned in for a kiss,. Tully obliged and gave herself up to the sensations raging through her, an expert hand unheeded, now led the way towards orgasm, fingering her clitoris, gently entering her passage, revelling in the joy of her wet and appreciative pussy and with it Tully rose to the breathy heights of release.
At the point-of-no-return she cried out and lost the ability to kiss or be kissed, she shuddered and went on shuddering, the muscles of her core contracting and releasing. Tully writhed on Sandy's hand and before long was pleading for her friend to stop her beatific, torturous caress, Sandy obliged and slowed her movements. Reluctantly she pulled away from their embrace. The room smelt of clean flesh and pheromones. Heat from their adventures and the cooling bath water had successfully steamed up the mirror.
Tully leaned back for a fraction of a second and they eyed one another
'You didn't even take your pants off'
'Yet'
Sandy chuckled coyly and took a moment to meet her eyes. Intuitively she reached for the towels and wrapped them both, she led the other woman out of the black tiled bathroom and away from the remnants of the fun they had enjoyed. Sandy ushered them both into the warmth and seclusion of her bedroom. The key turned in the lock of the front door, signaling the arrival of their other flat-mate, just as Tully kicked shut the door.

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…