“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath. I’d forgotten to pick up the carrier bag I’d left by the door. No biggie, just some suits and a dress for Lindsey to drop in at the dry cleaners. But still, for me, it wasn’t the fact they would now be a day later in being deposited, it was the fact I’d forgotten them completely. And the wrath I’d face when I returned home later.
Sighing with frustration at my lack of memory, I checked my watch to see if it was at all possible to get from the bus stop to the house and back again in… 3 minutes? Maybe if I was in the habit of regularly forgetting things so I had lots of practise of running from here to my house or they fitted modern day watches with morphing capabilities, then yes. Seeing as the morphing-man-transporter hasn’t been invented at bus stops either…
Anyway, no chance of getting that carrier bag now, I spotted the bus coming up the road. I say bus, I really mean yellow and purple monster.
“Morning,” I said to the driver once he’d pulled up with a screech of brakes and the doors scraped open. He responded with a nod. The silent type. There’s generally three types of bus driver I’ve found. The worst is the chatty, friendly type who wants your life story before they give you your ticket. Then there’s the angry bus driver who isn’t bad unless you mention something like “Good morning” (which is how I learnt to only open with the time of day, and not to qualify it with anything), and who flicks your change into the relevant compartments just a little too aggressively. Then there’s the silent type. These are highly unpredictable folk. I see them as hermits behind their Perspex screens who exist solely to drive people around for a few hours taking money when someone’s generous enough to pop some on the tray. I’m sure kids these days have latched on to the silent types as an excellent form of getting free rides.
“Single to Lakeside Road please,” I say, putting a pound coin lightly in the tray.
The driver coughs. And just looks at me.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, wondering if this man had completely lost the power of speech.
A long bony finger points to the digital display indicating I’m in fact 20 pence short. The crafty silent type, overcharging the honest customer by putting in the wrong starting stop. Grinding my teeth, I fish around in my jeans searching for loose change. I slam a 50p coin on the tray, giving the driver a glare. Nonchalantly, he pops the change on the tray along with a ticket and immediately drives off at break neck speed.
Once he has reached a continuous speed and I’ve stopped hanging on to the rails for dear life, I stagger my way down the aisle, aiming for the spare seats towards the back. Thankfully it’s not busy today.
The bus comes to a screeching halt again, causing the woman in front of me to drop her book as the clientele are thrown forwards. There’s a chorus of tutting and disappointed noises from the people behind me.
A girl in her mid-twenties, her long red hair blowing about behind her gets on the bus. This is Amie, who works with me. She’s not the sort of girl many people would give a second glance to. Well, that used to be the case. About six months ago she claimed to be going on holiday for a week, and turned up the next week sporting massively altered breasts. And I’m not exaggerating, she must have gone up at least four cup sizes.
Apart from her ‘prize assets’ as she refers to them, she is otherwise quite unremarkable to look at. When she opens her mouth though, the world melts and you’re transported away to a magical kingdom. She has an Irish accent. I die for Irish accents. Call them my weakness if you like, but when I hear the sweeping tones of a young Irish female, my heart skips a beat and standing up suddenly becomes an effort. Work definitely has its perks sometimes. As she retrieves her ticket, I give her a wave as she looks up.
“Silent type huh?” she says clambering up next to me, the Irish lilt in her voice quite apparent this morning. I rest my hands on my knees in a futile attempt to stop them quivering.
“Evil silent type,” I confirm.
“Really? He only charged me 90 pence.”
I turn to glance at her. “Must be the low cut top you’re wearing,” I say, nodding at her cleavage. “Did you inflate them extra large this morning for added effect?”
She smiles back at me. “I knew there was a reason I put on a push up bra today,” she replies, a twinkle in her eye.
There’s not much to add to that, just another good opportunity to peek down her top.
“That’s it Scotty, you get your eyeful in now, might stop you doing it at work,” she says, catching me in the act.
“Well, if you didn’t put those things under my nose, I wouldn’t be tempted to look now would I?” I retort, pointing at the offending articles, sat high up on her chest, practically taunting me.
“If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” she replies haughtily, leaning down to fiddle around in her bag for something, giving me another perfect opportunity to sneak a peek as her breasts swing forward. She comes back up clutching a pocket mirror and some lipstick.
I sit and stare out of the window for a bit, trying to stop my head turning the other way to ogle Amie’s rack, which is the main activity on my way to work in the mornings. She doesn’t mind me doing it. In fact I think she secretly likes the attention, but always makes a big show of making me out to be some kind of breast obsessed pervert (which in all fairness I am). It’s probably the fact that I know Amie and it’s quickly become one of our bits of banter that’s meant it’s developed to a daily ritual. Deep down I think it’s more the fact she turns me on something chronic and making jokes about it all is my lame attempt to try and hide that fact.
But I try and maintain the banter option. It’s safer and stops me blurting out that I fancy her like crazy when I’m drunk. I go out for a game of squash and a few drinks a fair bit with her other half and I still haven’t figured out whether he’s the type to appreciate people he knows casting her longing looks or not.
“How’s things with the new flatmate today then Scotty?” Amie asks, now reading a newspaper she acquired from somewhere, not taking her eyes off the Hot Gossip page and starting a conversation at the same time. How do women do it?
Ah yes. Lindsey. “Yeah, they’re OK I guess. She’ll be mad that I forgot to take her dress to the cleaners again by the time I get home, but hey, I’m only human.”
I did originally have the flat to myself, but ended up having to advertise for a flatmate to move into the spare room when I realised there was nothing to be gained by being noble, trying to survive on my own. Lindsey was the one of the last people of a pretty poor bunch to enquire. But as soon as I opened the door, and she walked into the flat for the first time, my whole life shifted direction.
(3 weeks ago)
The door buzzer went, waking me up from my doze on the sofa. “Dammit,” I muttered. I’d not meant to fall asleep, I was supposed to be tidying the flat for my next round of flatmate interviews.
I clambered over a pile of magazines and made my way to the front door, frantically trying to flatten my hair from its newfound tousled state.
I took a moment to compose myself before opening the front door. I was expecting a 25 year old female who enjoyed nights out and playing the violin apparently. Lizzie something was it? She had rung up this morning while I was on my way out the door so I hadn’t paid the greatest attention.
I undid the latch and was greeted with the sight of a tall, slim brunette, dressed simply in a white blouse and a pair of skin tight jeans. I liked what I saw…
“Hello there, I’m Scott MacLean, welcome to number 30,” I said eventually, extending a hand.
She grinned. It was an impish grin that implied she could be a lot of fun, and for some reason this immediately made me relax. “Well, hello Scott MacLean. I’m Lindsey Sanderson.” She shook the proffered hand firmly.
Lindsey. That was it.
“Well, come on in. Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee?” I asked as she made her way over the threshold. I’d learnt the importance of just trying to be warm and friendly to begin with. A lot of the interviewees had been over-nice to me which I found very off-putting. Like they were pretending we had already met and knew my life story.
She did this adorable foot shuffle and gave me a sheepish look, a finger twirling in her long dark hair. “Can I be really cheeky?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Sure.”
“Well, I didn’t think you’d have any tea that I’d like, so I brought a few bags of my own,” she said.
“Ermmm, sure. I’ll show you the kitchen. If you’d like to step this way,” I said, ushering her down the hall, my mind half curious to assess what she looked like from the back. I wasn’t disappointed. Her jeans were moulded to a very pert bottom. The sort that you just want to reach out and touch in the street when one walks past you. Not that I ever did. As if touching it would get you anywhere… Well, apart from in jail in all probabilities.
I followed her into my freshly painted kitchen. I’d gone for a country feel, two walls spring green, the others a darker green with a cream ceiling.
“Nice kitchen. Did you do it yourself?” she said, nodding her head towards the paint tins I’d carefully arranged in the corner.
“Sure did,” I said, looking around at my handiwork for the umpteenth time that week.
“I’m very impressed,” Lindsey added. “I like a man with practical skills.” She raised an eyebrow at me, which I took as an indication to smile.
“Well, thanks. Can’t do much else, but I’m ok with a tin of paint and a roller.”
“Yeah, I could really have done with a handsome hunk doing my old place up. It was a complete shambles, paint flaking off the walls and everything. I had to find someplace else before I died of depression.”
OK, I wasn’t ashamed of what I saw in the mirror every morning, but I wouldn’t have called myself handsome by any means. I was just a 27 year old white male who did press ups when I could be bothered and kept my hair neat and tidy. I had been told by previous girlfriends that I had a kind face, whatever that meant. But it felt like she’d just cast me an invisible line and now she was reeling me in. Handsome hunk? Was she just playing me to get the room? I was intrigued.
I flicked the switch on the kettle to distract me from such thoughts while I thought of potential topics of conversation. Lindsey was busy looking out of the window at the small paved area that was supposed to be a patio, humming a song that I vaguely recognised from the radio. She wiggled her butt while she did it and I wasn’t sure if it just went along with the song or it was for my benefit.
Moments later, we were sat facing each other at the kitchen table, mugs of tea in front of us.
“So, how long have you been in the area?” I asked, keeping it simple. I’d always found girls love it when you can somehow get the conversation round to talking about them.
“Not all that long really. I’ve got a job at St. Andrew’s Primary School. It’s just round the corner from here so it’s dead convenient for me this place. I could only really afford that shabby flat in the centre of the city, but the walk up the hill was a bitch in the mornings.” She made a sad face.
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” I replied, taking a mouthful of scalding hot tea, immediately making me regret that decision. “So, which year do you teach?”
She blew on her tea before taking a sip, giving me a wink as she did so. Wasn’t any need for her to rub it in… “Oh, the 8-9 year olds. Could be worse. They’re just about the right age, still cute and cuddly but trying to grow up at the same time,” she says with a smile. It was the smile she’d given me earlier, enchanting and charming, with just the right amount of teeth.
I nodded. “Planning on having kids one day?” I put forward as lightly as I could. Too strong and it sounds like you’re planning on impregnating them on the spot. I’d already made that mistake with one interested party this week…
“Depends if I find a suitable guy to have them with,” she replied, doing that finger twirling thing with her hair again. Was that subtle flirtation? And I noticed she was also playing me very carefully. Gently prodding, examining my personality to see if I’d react to subtle provocation.
“A statement like that sounds like you haven’t found him yet then,” I said, trying to keep my voice level and uninterested.
“Not yet, no,” she answered back carefully, deliberately, her eyes locked on mine.
I held her gaze, suddenly feeling very naked as her eyes burned into mine. It felt like she was examining my deepest innermost thoughts. I got the impression, don’t ask me how, that something in her was slightly aroused.
It’s all well and good establishing something like that Scotty, I thought to myself, but what’s the next step? I scanned her face, trying to read her expression.
All she did was crack me that grin again, which made me smile as well. I had to give her credit, she was definitely good with people.
“Would you like to see the rest of the flat, Miss Sanderson?” I asked after another couple of sipping exchanges.
She burst out into laughter. Always a good sign, making a woman laugh, but not when you hadn’t intended to be funny.
She spotted my confused expression. “Oh…, it’s just so… so funny… to hear… someone my age say it,” she said amidst fits of giggles.
Of course. Primary school teacher. She must get called Miss Sanderson at least fifty times a day. Welcome to the Scott MacLean master class in being an idiot…
“Just call me Lindsey,” she said, rescuing me from what could have been a potentially awkward pause.
“OK. Lindsey. Right.” Now I couldn’t even string a sentence together. Trying to move on as quickly as I could, I decided to just get on with it. “Well, this is the living room. Just the bare essentials, but feel free to make it as homely as you like, I’m not fussy...”
The tour was brief. We had a quick look in all the rooms and I could see her imagining herself living here, where she’d put her stuff, that sort of thing. All the time though I was consciously aware of my growing attraction to her. The way she laughed, not a mere chuckle, but more of a giggly laugh that went on for a few moments, I found endearing. When I spoke she gave me her full attention and always asked sensible questions. She was pretty in her own sparkly, jovial way, had a wacky sense of humour and this charming innocence. My mind was made up that I’d offer her the room.
We ended up back in the kitchen. “So, what do you think?” I asked her tentatively.
“I like it. Lots,” she answered with another of those grins.
“So you’ll take it?” I was willing her to with every inch of my being.
“You mean I can stay here?” she asked, sounding surprised. Genuinely surprised as well, not just putting it on for show. Either that or she had a side job in acting.
“It’s there if you want it,” I replied, sounding a lot less ecstatic than I actually was.
She made this kind of squeal noise and leapt on me, unintentionally pinning me against the wall. Her arms had looped around my neck and mine instinctively wrapped themselves round her, trying to stop her tumbling to the floor.
It was at that moment, where our faces were a few centimetres apart and my head was resting against the wall. It was one of the moments where the world stops turning and the only thing that matters is the moment you’re in right now. Our eyes were locked together, asking a silent question, before that invisible magnetism pulled us in towards each other. Her soft lips brushed against mine, tentatively at first, but then more aggressively, as her tongue sought out mine. Every nerve in my body felt as if there were several hundred volts of electricity running through it. She smelled delicious, with a hint of lavender and my heartbeat began to quicken.
With her eyes closed, she pulled away, breaking the connection. She blinked a few times, as if to clear her vision. When they did, her eyes were wide, giving her the look of being slightly spaced out. I was still seeing stars.
“Wow,” she said, sounding a little husky.
“Yeah wow,” I agreed, my voice too on the husky side. I realised I was still holding her tightly in my arms.
Neither of us were quite sure what to say. We just keep looking at each other, trying to establish what it all meant.
“Am I still OK to move in?” she asked after several moments.
“Definitely,” was my faint reply. She’d completely short-circuited me.
“Well, if you let me down, I’ll go and start packing,” she said. I obliged, my arms falling away, just hanging limply at my sides, watching helplessly as she let herself out, wondering if she would actually come back.
(Back to the present)
I unlocked the door, dumping my keys on the hall table before heading into the kitchen. The radio was on, which usually meant that Lindsey was in. Or that I’d forgotten to turn it off in the morning.
Work had plodded along at its usual pace, nothing new there. All I wanted to do now was plonk myself in front of the TV and just crash.
“Linds?” I called out. “You there?”
Usually, she popped her head out of her room and shared the general pleasantries before burying herself in a stack of marking. We didn’t generally talk that much in the evenings. I was always in front of the box and she was always busy marking. Not hearing any reply, I decided to check her room. The door was closed, which wasn’t a good sign, it was hardly ever closed. I knocked on it gently, pressing my ear to the crack.
“Linds? You in here?”
I could hear muffled sounds but there was still no reply. What was going on?
“Linds? Ready or not, I’m coming in.”
Things were very odd, something was not quite right somewhere. I opened the door, which gave me a view of her bed with her bag on it. She was definitely in here.
She was sat at her table in front of the window a pile of children’s workbooks next to her.
I made my way over. “Linds? Is everything OK? I’ve been calling you, but I got no reply,” I said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder.
She whipped round, startled. “Oh God Scott, I never heard you come in. What have I told you about sneaking up on me?”
The first thing that struck me was that she had been crying, her mascara streaked down her face.
“I wasn’t sneaking up on you Linds,” I replied wearing a concerned expression. “Something’s wrong. You can talk to me you know, if something’s upsetting you.”
“Wrong? Who said anything was wrong?” she said, trying to sound a bit brighter.
I just folded my arms and looked at her, waiting for her to crack. It didn’t take long.
She burst into tears, covering her face with her hands. “Oh Scotty, I’ve just had a bad day at work that’s all,” she said, her voice muffled by her hands.
I perched on the end of the bed. “Hey, look at me,” I said, repositioning my hand back on her shoulder. She spread her fingers slightly so she could see me, her eyes glistening with tears.
“What happened? At work? Tell me, I want to know.”
“Well, I got called into the head’s office and she basically gave me a big dressing down, told me I had to buck up my act if I wanted to continue with my job. She was horrible, really horrible. She made me feel so small,” Lindsey explained between sobs.
“Come here Linds, let me give you a hug,” I said softly, opening my arms to her. She wrapped an arm around me, pressing her head into my chest. Ever since she’d moved in properly we had never really been this close, except once. She was always preparing, or marking. I’d invited her to join me in front of the TV, but she always kindly refused and returned to her room.
“It was really horrible Scotty, I’ve never felt worse. I mean, I knew she was a hard nosed bitch, but she was just so cruel and straight to the point. It chilled me to the core.”
I didn’t quite know what to say, so I just rubbed her arm affectionately, allowing her to tell her story at her own pace.
“My life’s just been so scattered this last year. I just want a place that I can call home, y’know? That flat in town just gave me the creeps, I had to get out of there. My mind’s all over the place. I have such a hard job trying to keep it together at school sometimes.”
I was quite happy to let her ramble.
“I’m afraid I’m going to go into meltdown sometimes, the pressure of work’s really starting to get to me now and that was before Bitchface had a go at me.”
“Mmmmm,” was all I could think to say giving her arm a gentle squeeze.
She became silent, tears still trickling down her face, lost in her thoughts. I had no idea how long we were sat there.
I had absolutely no idea either that she was stressed out about work or anything. At that moment I admired her even more than I already did for having the strength to keep herself together without letting it show.
“Thanks Scotty,” she said eventually, her voice a bit more composed now.
“Hey, no worries,” I replied. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah,” she said, her face cracking into a weak smile before she snuggled back into my chest again.
A few more minutes passed with us sat there in silence. I could hear the cars go past in the street and the sound of people walking on the footpath.
“Scotty? Will you be honest with me?” Lindsey asked into my chest, breaking the spell.
“Yeah, sure. About what?”
“Do you still think about the day I moved in?”
Ah yes… Maybe I didn’t quite tell the whole story…
I was restless. I paced round the kitchen, up and down the hall, around my bedroom, even the spare room. It had been at least 3 hours since she left. Had the kiss been a complete mistake? Had I initialised it? Had I scared her off?
I went over it again in my head. I was sure there had been mutual head movement, but I needed confirmation. Another kiss would do. Something. Anything!
The door buzzer went. Was this it? Was it her? I thought I’d cancelled all of the other interviews and I wasn’t expecting anybody. It had to be her. It just had to be.
I opened the door, holding my breath.
“Hello,” said a man I’d never seen in my life before, holding a large sports bag. My heart sank.
“Hey buddy, now’s not a good time if you’re trying to sell me something,” I said patting him on the arm.
“I’m not trying to sell you anything sir,” he replied. “I’m just dropping young Lindsey round with all her kit.”
I could have hugged him. Sure enough, there she was scrambling up the path, dragging a suitcase behind her.
“Just go on in mate,” I told the guy, “dump it in the room on the left.” He nodded and went inside.
“Lindsey, God, I thought you were never coming back!” I exclaimed, walking down my front steps to meet her.
“Hey Scott. Sorry I took so long, I was waiting for Ian and his van,” she replied giving me a strained smile.
“It doesn’t matter,” I smiled back. “Need a hand with anything?”
“Just grab anything out of the blue van just down the street,” she called over her shoulder.
When everything was inside and Ian said his goodbyes, we both slumped down on the sofa, surrounded by bags and cases.
“You’ve certainly got a lot of stuff,” I commented, looking around.
“Well, I didn’t really pack properly. I just threw everything in bags before Ian arrived,” she replied. “He was a neighbour,” she added, answering the question that was on my lips.
“Ah right, gotcha,” I answered.
I noticed she was looking at me. I wasn’t sure what the look meant, so I just stared back.
And then, it happened again. She had moved forwards a fraction, but I was already there. Deciding to take a bit more control this time, I took hold of her chin and kissed her fully on the mouth, to which she gave a little groan. She still smelled of lavender, with a slight aroma of perfume this time. Enough to be sexy but not too much so as to indicate she washed in it. I could feel my cock harden in my pants as her tongue flicked into my mouth and begin swirling around.
Still mid-kiss her hand went to stroke the back of my head and she somehow manoeuvred herself under me on the sofa. My breathing was becoming harder and my heart rate was racing. I had been dreaming of this moment for several hours and I wanted to make it last as long as possible.
She broke the kiss and started to kiss my neck, wrapping her legs around me which put my rapidly hardening cock in the promising position of rubbing her pubic mound through her jeans.
I decided to seize the initiative again by gently nibbling an ear lobe, to which she uttered another groan, this one slightly louder than the previous one and I felt her breathing a lot deeper than before. Her hands were now running up and down my spine sending goosebumps across my back.
My hands were now stroking her face and I kissed her fully on the lips again, my tongue making the first move this time, plunging into her mouth. She suddenly gripped my back and gave a long moan, muffled by my tongue, which thrust her mound against my crotch again.
I broke the kiss and moved to kissing her neck, causing her to squirm around beneath me. Her breathing now was coming out in small gasps, forcing her breasts against my chest every time she breathed in.
“Oh Scott…” she murmured in my ear, her hot breath tickling my lobe, sending further shockwaves down my spine.
I trailed my way down her neck, undoing the top button of her blouse so I had access to her collar bone, which I then preceded to nibble at gently. This too was greatly received with her most guttural moan so far.
There was no way I could get much further on the sofa, so I stood up and picked her up, carrying her carefully through the doorway and into my bedroom, putting her down gently on the kingsize bed. I slipped off my t-shirt casting it on the floor, and then joined her on the bed, lying next to her on my side.
She just lay there for a few moments, the swell of her breasts under her gaping blouse rising and falling with each breath. It was mesmerising to watch.
She turned her head slightly to look at me, opening one eye.
“Is that it? You’re just going to lie there and watch me?” she asked, her voice quite breathy.
I shook my head dumbly. My mouth felt dry.
“Well get over here then silly, you can’t leave me here like this, my panties are soaked now, you could at least finish the job.”
It was the sign I had been waiting for. I leaned over her and kissed her again as she ran her fingers over my chest, causing a fresh wave of goosebumps to prickle over my back. I pulled her over on top of me this time, reaching out to undo her blouse. She slapped my hand playfully, proceeding to gyrate her hips on top of my already fully hard penis. She then slowly undid each button of her blouse, until it was fully open, making sure her hips were in full contact at all times.
We remained in that position for a few moments, her hips gyrating in the same pattern, painfully slow sweeps, causing my cock to throb in anticipation every time she rubbed herself against the head. The look of lust on her face was plain to see, her eyes glazed with wanton desire, still breathing heavily.
“So then, what do you want to do next?” she asked, a playful edge to her voice now. She took one of my fingers in her mouth, and began teasing it with her tongue, her eyes focussed on mine all the time.
I wasn’t quite sure what to say, so I just reached inside her open blouse and gently cupped a breast through her bra. This caused her to suck my finger a little harder. I worked my hand in under her bra, brushing her nipple with my fingertips causing her to throw her head back and moan with desire.
“You don’t like to talk much doing this do you?” she remarked. I merely replied by giving her nipple a quick squeeze. It was true though, previous girlfriends had said the same.
“Why don’t you just keep it simple, like say what you’re feeling or something. Or what the other person is doing to you, that usually works for me. You’d be amazed at how much better the sex is with communication,” she commented, putting the flat of her palms square on my chest now, still persisting with the hip movements.
No harm in trying I thought. “How far do you want to go?”
She smiled sweetly. “All the way baby! If you don’t start ripping clothes off me soon, I think I might actually melt…”
“OK, well… here goes. You’re doing delightful things to my penis, just gyrating around it, that feels like heaven, don’t stop doing that… this isn’t sounding stupid is it?”
“Oh no Scotty, you just keep going down there…” she replied, her breath coming in small gasps now. She wasn’t going round in circles with her hips any more, more just grinding her damp crotch on my erection.
“I can feel how wet you are through your trousers… You’re soaking down there…”
“Well, you’ve turned me on so much Scotty, I just want to feel you pound me with that throbbing cock of yours.”
It was my turn to moan.
“Oh Scotty, when you do that, you rub your cock on my clit, it sends flashes in front of my eyes… do it again…” Lindsey half-whispered.
I obliged, watching her body tremble with pleasure. She then leant back and slipped her bra off, her breasts springing into view for the first time, nipples very much outright. I then cupped them in my hands, brushing the points with my thumbs.
“Scotty… It feels so good, keep teasing me… don’t stop, don’t stop… that’s it Scotty boy, just keep touching them like that…” She let out a small scream as I leaned upright and took a nipple into my mouth. “Keep going… that’s driving me insanely wild… Fuck that’s good… keep going Scotty. That’s it, tweak the other one, pinch the nipple… Bite the one in your mouth, I want some teeth!”
I was beginning to worry about the neighbours when she let out a really loud scream as I bit down quite hard on her nipple.
“Oh Scotty, you’ve gotta fuck me in a minute, I’ll explode in excitement if you don’t… That’s it, twitch that cock of yours, I can feel that against my clit… Go on… bite me again, bite me… Bite me! BITE ME!”
Deciding that I’d teased and tormented her enough, I pushed her on to her back and began to undo the buttons on her jeans. When they had all popped open, I slid her jeans off her legs revealing that she hadn’t worn any underwear. Which probably explained the dark patch on her jeans.
Her pussy wasn’t my focus yet though, as I resumed nibbling at her breasts, taking each one in my mouth alternately to the sound of continuous moans.
“Scotty, that tongue of yours… keep teasing me… that’s it, keep kissing my breasts, just like that… like that… It’s turning me on beyond belief Scotty, that’s it… like that… Now you’re working your way down my tummy, you’re licking my tummy… you’re in my pubic hair… Oh Scotty, I love that tongue of yours! Keep going, don’t tease me, lick me out… lick me out!”
In all truth she didn’t have much pubic hair, which I always found a turn on. She’d trimmed it to her small triangle above her slit. Her pussy lips were already swollen and I could smell the strong musky scent of her vagina. Her pink folds were already glistening with moisture and I dove straight in tongue first, to much approval from Lindsey, her pussy bucking against my mouth.
“Scotty baby… I’m so wet for you… Just, just there… right there… you’ve got it… yes, yes, yes… oh God yes…” I could feel her pushing on the back of my head which encouraged me to press a little harder and probe a little faster.
“I’m gonna cum Scotty, I’m gonna cum on your face, oh God, you feel so good, don’t stop… don’t stop… any second now, I’m cumming, I’M CUMMING!” She let out a loud grunt and began to shake uncontrollably. Her thighs clamped around my ears and my tongue became coated in her juices, her legs quivering around me.
When she relaxed I was finally able to come up for air.
“Oh Scotty,” she moaned, “you’ve ruined me, everything’s tingling… breathing hurts, I’m on fire…” I just leaned over and stroked her hair until her world stopped spinning, her muttering continuing, breathing coming in big gasps.
“How are you feeling?” I asked several moments later.
“Unbelievable… I’ve never felt anything so intense,” she said faintly, as she opened her eyes, blinking against the light.
“Seriously?” I enquired.
“Seriously,” she confirmed. “Sure I’ve had guys lap away at me til I cum, but for some reason everything in my body just went haywire… Now… I reckon I’m ready to feel that cock of yours inside me,” she said, indicating the bulge in my pants.
I undid my trousers and wriggled them off my legs, promptly followed by my underwear. I saw Lindsey lick her lips.
“Boy, have I been looking forward to this,” she muttered making her way down the bed before wrapping a fist around my manhood and gently kissing the tip all over. It wasn’t long before she popped it in her mouth and began to swirl her tongue all around it, much to my delight.
She opened her mouth long enough to utter the words, “Tell me what I’m doing” before promptly resuming her ministrations.
“Lindsey… You’re a legend, that’s it… lick my shaft, let me feel your tongue around the tip… That feels… feels great… oh God, that’s it… your tongue feels so good… so good… oh God, oh God, oh God… yes, yeeeeees… ”
It wasn’t long before I could only moan, as talented as Lindsey was. I think she could sense that I was on the verge of a powerful orgasm and she slowed right down until she was literally just kissing my tip again.
“I want to save some of that cream for later,” she explained. “Right now, I want this cock inside me and for you to give me a damn good fucking,” she snarled at me.
“Do you want to be on top?” I enquired as politely as I could, in complete contrast to her aggression.
“Aw, you’re such a gentleman,” Lindsey replied, the sweetness that I was used to returning to her voice. The answer to my question was a resounding yes as she held my shaft up and pointed it at her entrance.
“You ready?” she asked her voice thick with lust now, as she nestled the tip amongst her folds. I could feel the heat of her pussy already and I was hardly touching it.
“Oh God yes,” I muttered and with that, my cock was engulfed in a vice like grip by her soaking pussy as she slammed herself down on me with such force, I could have sworn my cock touched her cervix.
“OH MY GOD!” she screamed as she sat there on her haunches, my cock still buried in her vagina. I could feel her vaginal muscles contract, almost as if they were milking me.
“Hell yeah Lindsey!” I growled. “I LOVE IT! You feel so good… You’re so tight and wet, and those muscles are amazing…”
She merely gave me a grin and then began to slowly grind herself on my cock, burying it even further inside her.
“Oh boy,” she sighed. “You’re cock feels amazing inside me, I just want to savour this feeling.”
“Be my guest,” I replied thoroughly enjoying the sensations myself, laying back on the pillows as her muscles continued to work their magic.
“Scott. Look at me,” she said, looking down at me intensely, resting her hands on my chest again. “I want you to fuck me. Properly. Don’t hold anything back, just go crazy. I like it hard and rough, I don’t care how we do it, so long as you pound me like there’s no tomorrow.”
“As you wish Miss Sanderson,” I replied, throwing in something I’d been considering since she arrived. I got the response I was looking for.
“Scott MacLean, you’re going to regret that,” she said, waving a threatening finger at me.
“Oh really?” I promptly picked her up, with her still impaled on my cock and laid her on the edge of the bed, hooking her legs over my shoulders.
“Scotty… Go on, drive that cock into me! Go on, drive it in me… Pound me, fuck me, don’t hold back!”
I wasted no time in withdrawing and then slamming straight back into her, my balls slapping against her butt.
“Oh God Scotty… Yes… Don’t hold back! Fuck me, FUCK ME!” she screamed.
I did the withdraw and slam procedure several more times before deciding that enough was enough and began to pump away at her with every bit of strength that I could muster.
“That’s it Scotty, fuck me, ah… oh God Scotty, keep going, I can feel you hitting my G-spot every time, keep going, ah, fuck me… harder… harder… you’re turning me on so much, don’t ever stop… I just want to do this all night…”
“Yeah, me too, your pussy is like a vice Miss Sanderson, I just want to keep pounding it, like this… Just want to keep pounding…”
She was by far more vocal than I dared to be. “Oooooh my God Scott, you’re filling me up with your cock, fuck me, fuck me, harder… harder… I’m gonna cum around your cock, don’t stop, harder… don’t stop, keep fucking me, like that… like that…”
Her words became less and less coherent as she approached her orgasm. I could have sworn the family over the road would have heard her scream as she went over the edge, her body losing whatever control it had left, writhing around so much that my cock slipped out of her pussy. I stood there stroking my penis and watching in amazement as juices poured out of her, trickling down into her asshole and on to the bedspread. When she had calmed down, I noticed small patches of sweat had broken out on her stomach and chest and she was breathing as hard as ever.
“Oh my God…” she groaned, finally recovering her speech. She looked up at me with a dazed expression. “Are you close?”
“Give it to me big boy…” she moaned, spreading her pussy lips with two fingers.
I promptly slammed straight back into her, not holding her legs this time. I leant over her still pumping my cock into her pussy, and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. She tried to kiss me back, but she just couldn’t muster the strength.
I continued thrusting as fast as I could for several minutes before I felt the familiar tingle in my balls.
“When I cum, where do you want it Miss Sanderson?”
These words seemed to have some sort of effect on her and her eyes opened. “Cum in my mouth, definitely in my mouth,” she said faintly between moans.
“Mouth it is,” I confirmed, concentrating firmly on reaching orgasm with her this time.
“Oh my God Scotty, I’m gonna come again… I don’t believe it… I’m cumming, I’m cumming…”
“Hang on,” I groaned. “I’m with you… I’m with you… Right, I’m pulling out!”
She sat up at once and grabbed my cock with two hands, burying the head in her mouth and began to suck for all she was worth. I came a few seconds later, bellowing as several large spurts pouring down her throat. She took it all as well, swallowing frantically as I kept filling her mouth with my seed.
When I finally stopped erupting, and she had swallowed every last drop and swirled her tongue around several times to make sure, we collapsed on the bed next to each other, both dripping with sweat, the smell of our sex in an aura around us.
“Wow…” she said a few minutes later. “And I thought kissing you made me see stars.”
“Yeah wow…” I replied. “That was quite intense…”
“Definitely,” she murmured. “Are you the sort of guy who falls asleep straight after sex?”
“Not straight away,” I answered, “I do like the afterglow part too.”
“Good,” she said with a sleepy smile and linked her hand with mine, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
I took in her naked body for the first time properly, looking at every curve as she dozed. Her breathing had slowed right down now, but I still loved the way her breasts jiggled as she breathed in and out.
It didn’t take long before I noticed she was completely asleep, sprawled on her back. Unlinking my hand, I retrieved a blanket from the cupboard and covered her gently. I retrieved my underwear from the floor and stood in the doorway to watch her and try to burn the images of what we’d just done on the inside of my eyelids. After several minutes, I went and kipped on the sofa for the night.
“Well? Do you?” she asked again.
“Yes. Yes, I couldn’t forget a night like that Linds. It was one of the greatest nights of my life,” I replied as sincerely as I could.
“Honestly?” she said looking up at me with wide eyes.
“Honestly,” I confirmed.
“I was scared that I’d done something wrong when I woke up and found you sleeping on the sofa,” she said looking away.
“I just wanted to give you some space. You looked so peaceful laid on the bed, fast asleep. I didn’t want to risk waking you.”
She gave me a smile, her eyes still brimming with tears. “Really?”
“Yeah, absolutely. Is that why you’ve been a bit off with me for these last few weeks? You thought I hated you?”
“A little bit,” she replied timidly. “Work’s been a pain as well though, but I really thought you’d seen me as a one night thing.”
“I thought I’d done something wrong myself, which is why you were being off with me,” I admitted. “And as for a one nighter? No way, I want to experience all that again please.”
“Really?” she asked again, summoning a stronger smile this time and she moved her face up to the same level as mine. My heartbeat began to quicken as I saw a seductive glint in her eye.
“What would you say if I asked if I could kiss you right now?” she asked me, her voice barely audible.
“Yes,” I said softly and kissed her just as I had three weeks ago, fully on the mouth, my tongue darting between her slightly parted lips as her body slipped under mine on her bed.