I had just posted a Valentine’s card through the neighbour’s letterbox. It was a clandestine act and supposed to be a secret. I knew I’d been caught when I heard the door open behind.
The plan, as per my usual <i>modus operandi</i>, had been to get the deed done much earlier in the morning. Originally, I meant to move under cover of darkness, a wraith in the pre-dawn creeping to her door. However, a mistake in setting the alarm combined with my eagerness for Michelle to receive the card before the day began became my undoing. When I awoke and realised the error, my impatience took me to her door at an extremely risky 8 a.m.
It was insane to think I would get away with it.
When I heard her call my name it was like a bullet between my shoulder blades.
The shock hit me. I couldn’t believe I’d been caught.
I turned slowly and saw the envelope in her hand.
Michelle’s expression questioned me. “It’s been you all along?” she said, pausing before adding, “I think you better come in.”
She stood there, one eyebrow raised, a hip cocked. It was one of those moments where time compressed and somehow stretched simultaneously. Adrenalin surged through me. I was torn by indecision. I wanted to follow Michelle into her house but was daunted by the prospect of what might follow. Embarrassment washed over me in a hot tide, with beads of sweat forming on my back and forehead regardless of the morning chill. I boggled for an instant, my brain registering her plum-coloured blouse while also sucking in the detail of long sleeves and the promise of Michelle’s generous bosom beneath. I saw the top two buttons unfastened and a tantalising hint of cleavage. During those few seconds I also soaked in her light-brown bobbed hair and a necklace of dark beads around her delicate neck, her smile all bright red lipstick. Hazel eyes confronted me when I glanced up, sparkling and amused to match the curve of her mouth. To me, in the moment, Michelle was elegance personified, immaculate as usual.
I took it all in, anguish churning my guts while Michelle appeared cool and collected, her head canted, enquiring, the evidence in her hand.
She had me bang to rights.
My first instinct was to run, but some force held my feet fast against the pavement. The thought of facing Michelle and the inevitable enquiry filled me with dread, with fleeing the scene the most tempting idea. I could leg it and hide out for a few months, thus avoiding any and all contact with our neighbour. I’d done no wrong but let my infatuation run wild. I’d gone beyond reason, desire overwhelming common sense.
Michelle said, “Don’t be embarrassed, Alan. Come in,” she gently added. “Let’s just talk about it.”
“I’m sorry,” I croaked as I turned to face her square on.
Her smile beamed at me. “Don’t be sorry,” she said, the tone kindly. She waved me towards her again. “I understand, truly. Please, won’t you just come in? It’s freezing out here.”
Still resisting, I offered a weak excuse. “I have to be at work in an hour.”
Michelle held up the envelope and condemned me with the irrefutable evidence of my puerile crush.
I winced and closed my eyes until she murmured, “It’s Valentine’s Day and you sent me a card. Come on,” she insisted. “Come in. You don’t have to rush off.”
Mortification washed over me in a hot tide. Michelle knew I could walk to work in ten minutes. She was fully aware there was no desperate need for me to leave.
I looked at her and clarity hit home. How could I have been so stupid? For the first time in months I could see the situation for what it was: me, nineteen; an apprentice mechanic lusting after the unattainable. Michelle was a sophisticated, independent career woman over three decades my senior. It was ludicrous to have ever imagined a relationship between us. I was crazy to think my flowery hyperbolic prose would impress her.
I should have left it in the realm of fantasy, just tugged my dick and dreamed.
However, regardless of my desire to run and hide under a stone, I found myself moving along the path towards the house. I followed Michelle inside and hung my jacket on the newel post at the foot of the stairs. I loitered near the front door, reluctant to face the <i>post mortem</i> until Michelle called me into the living room.
“Okay, right,” Michelle said briskly, all business. “How about you sit down and I’ll make us some tea – or would you prefer coffee?”
I mumbled about coffee and she turned to leave.
“Sit down,” added Michelle, pointing to the chair. “I’ll be a minute or two.” She jabbed a forefinger at me for emphasis. “Don’t you dare run off.”
Her heels pecked on the parquet when she returned. I looked up from my boots when I heard the sound, internal wrangling over for the time being. Michelle strode into the room, purposeful, a force to be reckoned with. She came in with a mug for me and a more delicately appropriate cup for herself, handing me my coffee before settling elegantly onto the large L-shaped sofa opposite my chair. She eyed me and sipped her tea while I looked everywhere except directly at her.
I vaguely registered how physically similar the house was to ours next door. But while my parents were firmly entrenched in middle-age, Michelle’s tastes ran to the more contemporary. The white walls and blonde-wood flooring made the place look clean, the colours brightening the room to give the place a light, airy atmosphere despite the dank February day beyond the big bay window. The settee upon which Michelle was perched was vast, all tan leather and so wide it could sleep four people. A huge print hung on one wall, a black and white scene of Waterloo Bridge, the bright-red double-decker bus in stark contrast against the monochrome background. A silver-cased BOSE system sat on top of shiny metal unit while a massive flat screen television was fixed to the wall opposite the print. In the no man’s land between us a low coffee table completed the somewhat minimalist effect.
“Alan?” Michelle said, her voice pulling my attention to her face. “What’s going on? Why the card … And what about all those other notes, too?”
I sat there and wished I were invisible. “Uh,” I managed, unable to formulate a more articulate response.
Michelle chuckled. “It’s a crush, isn’t it?”
I felt my face burn and knew I was as red as the bus in the print.
Michelle sighed. “You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? I know you’re cringing, Alan. You didn’t expect me to find out, but now you’ve been caught…”
I felt cornered, trapped by Michelle’s intent stare. Panic welled in my chest. I was flustered by the direct questioning and my body’s response at being in such close proximity to the object of my desire. The hint of her scent sent a ripple of arousal through me regardless of my discomfit.
My cock was hard.
“Ah,” I groaned. “I … I’m so sorry. I…”
Fidgeting in response to my inappropriate and ill-timed desire I then noticed the fortuitous gape in her blouse, Michelle’s positioning affording me a glimpse of a lilac bra through a gap between the buttons. The sight unsettled me even more, especially since I could also glimpse a section of breast flesh, my eyes drawn like twin compass needles.
Michelle shifted and leaned forward, the gap closing even as the valley between her breasts deepened. The sensory overload I experienced brought a lump to my throat.
“You don’t have to feel awkward, Alan,” she breathed, “I understand.”
“Do you?” I gurgled, my throat working as I swallowed heavily.
“It isn’t unheard of, you know,” Michelle smirked.
I gulped again and dragged my attention up to her face. “I don’t know what to say,” I moaned.
She got to her feet and moved around the coffee table.
My pulse raced when Michelle squatted in front of me. She laid both hands on my knees and, fixing me with a direct look, quietly said, “You don’t have to say anything. I keep trying to tell you … I understand.”
“I’ve been such an idiot,” I sighed.
Her fingers squeezed my knees while Michelle shook her head in slow denial. “Absolutely not,” she said, emphatic in tone. “You’re k**ding me. I’m extremely flattered, Alan.”
I blinked at her as she pouted and her head canted to one side.
Michelle regarded me for a time, expression thoughtful. Then she sighed and said, “It makes me feel good to know you find me attractive.” Shrugging, she continued with, “And it was driving me mad not knowing who it was leaving those notes. But now I know…” Pausing, Michelle pondered and finished with, “Well, let’s just say now I know it was you, I don’t mind at all.”
Joy surged inside me, words tumbling out in my relief. “Yuh-you’re so lovely,” I stammered. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Ever since I saw you in your yellow bikini, last summer, the day you asked me to move your barbecue…”
Michelle’s eyes went wide. “Ah, the yellow bikini,” she said, nodding. Rising to her feet she looked down at me, fists on her hips. “And I thought it was love,” quipped Michelle, “but you just want me for my body.”
In the intensity of the moment, the humour was lost on me. “No … Yes…” I babbled. “I mean … Uh … You…”
Michelle batted the air with one hand. “Alan, stop, please. I’m joking,” she sighed. “I was only teasing. I get it, Alan, I really do.” She shook her head, amused, and, chuckling, added, “You don’t have to tie yourself up in knots.” Returning to the sofa Michelle sat down, arranging the long skirt around her legs. “Listen,” she continued, abruptly serious, her change in tone making me blink. “You know how old I am, right?”
I nodded – Michelle being fifty-three wasn’t an issue for me. I thought she was gorgeous.
“It wouldn’t work, Alan. A romance just wouldn’t be fair on you. When you’re forty, I’ll be…
“Well, I’ll be in my 70s. I don’t think you’d fancy me much then. And,” she added softly, “I’ve got a boyfriend already. Even if it was just a physical thing between us…” Michelle shrugged again and left it hanging.
Desperation welled up in a hot rush and I blurted, “Can’t I just kiss you?”
Michelle gazed back at me, eyes imploring. “Oh, Alan…” she sighed.
Sitting upright, I couldn’t stem the flow. “I just want to so much,” I babbled. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. He wouldn’t find out. It would be one kiss.” I could hear the urgency in my own voice and, growing ever more frantic, knowing I was making more of an idiot of myself, continued with, “Please … cuh-can’t I kiss you? Just once?”
I had no idea why the idea of kissing her once would melt Michelle’s apparent reluctance. But my desire was so great I was losing control, edging towards a precipice, desperate.
I saw the pity in her eyes and, despite knowing it was a useless exercise, carried right on.
“Or … or … or if you break up with him,” I gabbled, “won’t you think about it then? I can wait. You don’t love him, do you? If you break up with him, I’ll still be here.”
When I finally shut up she was looking at me and shaking her head. “I can’t cheat, Alan. My ex-husband did that to me and I won’t ever do it to anyone else. You’d be better of finding a girl nearer your own age. Mooning about over me isn’t the healthy thing to do.”
It was all slipping away and I couldn’t stand it. Even though I’d known on an intellectual level it would never happen, being so close to her, the two of us her living room together with the secret out in the open had given me some hope.
But, like a leaky balloon, the fight rapidly left me. I realised it was futile and emotion squeezed my chest.
I nodded, forlorn as I breathed a devastated, “Yes …Okay…
“I … uh … I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Michelle replied softly. “Drink your coffee, Alan. Calm down.”
Sipping mindlessly I stared off at nothing.
“Are you all right, Alan?” Michelle asked.
Swallowing down the bitter disappointment, I sucked in a deep breath and fought for control, self-loathing at my own weakness filling me.
Humiliated and unable to look Michelle in the face I mumbled a disconsolate, “I think I’d better go.”
Michelle shook her head and stated an emphatic, “No. Wait a bit,” she insisted. “Drink your coffee. You can’t leave it like this. You’ll feel bad about it later. We need to clear the air. I don’t want you to leave feeling this way, Alan.”
I blinked against the hot tears and looked at her, my heart wrenching while, simultaneously, hot desire flared inside me.
“Stay,” urged Michelle, her expression concerned.
Disgraced and embarrassed but so far gone with the need to be near her I sacrificed my self-respect for a few precious minutes in Michelle’s company. “Okay,” I croaked, sniffing.
Michelle sighed. “Good.”
Silence ensued, a minute where Michelle allowed me time to gather my thoughts and collect my s**ttered emotions. I sucked in deep breaths, the air hissing out of my nose.
Reality returned, clarity resumed and, feeling a prize tube, my eyes flicked away from Michelle’s worried frown as I sipped coffee.
Then I apologised again. “I’m sorry about everything. I should have known better.”
Michelle leaned back and crossed her legs before clasping her hands one on top of the other over her raised knee.
She eyed me for a few seconds and then sighed, saying, “I do wish you’d stop going on about how sorry you are. You haven’t done anything bad, Alan.” Michelle waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, perhaps I was a little concerned about some weirdy stalker at first. But now I know it was you, Alan, like I said before, I’m very flattered.” Her tone softened even more when Michelle uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, elbows on her thighs, hands dangling, her position incongruous to her usual elegance, like a warehouseman on a smoke break. “Having you pay me so much attention is quite a compliment. In fact, I can’t tell you how good it makes me feel. Really, it’s a boost to know a good-looking young man would be interested in me.”
Michelle paused, hesitating before adding, “If things were different, if I didn’t have Zach…” Then she grinned and floored me by saying, “If you’d made a move the day I asked you to shift the barbecue…
“I was still a single lady then and, well, as I recall it was a warm afternoon and I’d been on the white wine.”
I boggled when the implication seeped through. Astounded at this revelation I just sat there and gaped, jaw hanging, the weight of Michelle’s disclosure settling in the pit of my stomach like a brick in a pool of mud.
“I get a little frisky when I drink white wine on hot days,” finished Michelle, adding to my torment.
Stunned, it took me several moments to recover enough to gurgle a choked, “You mean you…? If I’d…?”
Michelle pouted, a moue of contemplation twisting her red-painted lips. “I can’t say for definite,” she said, chuckling, eyebrows going up to her fringe. “But we might have had a kiss and a cuddle, yes.”
Groaning, I leaned forward and dumped the coffee mug onto the table. “Shit,” I hissed with my face in my palms. My hands dropped and I regarded the woman sitting opposite me. After repeating the expletive, I muttered, “Knowing that doesn’t help me at all.”
Michelle pulled a face and levered upright.
Apparently realising her faux-pas her face twisted with what I took to be chagrin. <i>Sorry</i>, she mouthed.
A moment or two passed before she said, “Tell you what, like you said, about if Zach and I break up…”
Resurgent hope soared. I sat up, spine straightening.
“No promises,” she continued, holding up a hand. “But, you and me, Alan, I don’t see why we couldn’t go on a date.” Michelle shrugged and finished with, “If I ever finish with Zach, of course. Which I’m not going to.”
My stomach flipped when she said it, the images coming rapidly, an entire scene flashing through my mind in a blink.
In my mind’s eye I saw Michelle smiling at me as I presented her with a bottle of wine. It was summer and she was in the yellow bikini. Michelle took the gift and led me through to her back garden, buttocks jiggling, her feminine hip-sway holding my attention. Next, in a fast-forward step she was naked and giggling with the alcohol. I was bare as well, my erection huge as I gazed in wonder at Michelle’s body. <i>I’m horny, Alan</i>, the fantasy murmured. <i>White wine and a warm day…</i>
She moved in close and curled her fingers around my cock, her tongue sliding into my mouth.
But in Michelle’s living room it was still Valentine’s Day. I blinked at the corporeal Michelle, gulping before breathing an astonished, “Would you really go out with me?
The woman nodded immediately and replied with, “Yes, of course,” but raised an index finger straight away and issued a caveat. “But I want you to get on with your life, Alan. You need to think about a girlfriend of your own.” Michelle fixed me with a stern expression and told me in no uncertain terms I wasn’t to cling to the suggestion. “Because I have no plans to chuck Zach,” she said.
Jealousy spiked my chest when Michelle grinned and continued with, “He’s quite fun. We have a good time together. We’re both old enough and experienced enough to understand each other.” She waved a hand. “Oh, it isn’t love, but we’re getting along. It works in a way we both appreciate, and at my age I’m a bit jaded by love.
“However, Alan, if anything did occur…”
My throat worked while she stared at me.
“… Let’s just say I’d be happy to go on a little date with you.”
“I don’t believe it,” I groaned. Blinking, I gulped again and slowly shook my head, berating myself with, “Why didn’t I say something?”
“Don’t go getting worked up,” Michelle sighed, exasperation flickering across her face. “Don’t get upset. You didn’t say anything, and that’s that. And this date idea, it’s a maybe, no promises. If anything happens between me and Zach…
“I want you to promise me you’ll stop being so silly about me and try to find someone more age-appropriate.” Michelle thrust a more belligerent stare my way and insisted. “Alan…? I want you to promise me…”
It seemed like Michelle wouldn’t be shifted. There was nothing I could do or say to influence her and I decided the best course would be to agree and hope for the best. It wasn’t the ideal outcome, but was still infinitely better than I could have hoped.
I mumbled a few utterances of acceptance to the terms and Michelle, apparently satisfied, said, “Good, it’s settled then.”
She relaxed and eased back against the settee, with me simply appreciating the way she looked just lounging there. Despite what I’d so grudgingly promised I still experienced the urge to stand and go to her and lean in for a kiss. I wanted to rip the blouse open and bury my face between her big breasts. The memory of her yellow bikini rushed back and desire rose in a hot welling of lust, my cock stiffening with renewed interest.
The resurgent feelings were exactly the same as the day I’d seen so much of Michelle’s body, the yellow bikini enhancing her appeal.
A lewd mind-reel flashed across my consciousness, fantasies forming in my head until Michelle, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside me, glanced at her watch and said, “Drink up your coffee, Alan. I don’t mean to be rude but I have a couple of things to do before my first appointment.”
I tried to stall her but soon found myself on my feet, the erection painfully constricted inside my jeans. I could feel the cold seep of pre-cum smeared over my underwear and hoped the stain wouldn’t show.
“Are you all right?” Michelle asked, the question causing me some concern until I realised she meant my emotional state rather than any embarrassing damp patches. I didn’t think I could take any more humiliation brought on by a map of Africa appearing on the front of my jeans.
“I’m good,” I croaked, thankful for the length of my tee-shirt hanging just far enough mask my arousal.
“As long as you’re sure,” Michelle murmured from a few feet away. “We can be friends, you know, Alan. You don’t have to avoid me and you don’t have to feel silly.” Throwing me a bright smile, she added a chirpy, “You can even come round for a coffee and a chat every now and then … If you like.”
What I wanted most at the time, if I couldn’t fuck her of course, was to make an exit without causing myself any further embarrassment. It was only just gone 8 a. m. but I’d already suffered enough for a month, let alone a morning.
“That’d be good,” I mumbled, slouching for the front door.
I grabbed my coat and was about to twist the handle when Michelle’s murmur stopped me.
“Alan,” she breathed.
I turned back to see her smiling and she flung out both arms. “Give me a hug before you go.”
Without thinking I stepped into the embrace, my arms encircling her. I’d always had the impression Michelle was bigger than the woman I held in my arms. Perhaps I’d been influenced by her generous bosom and exaggerated height due to her habitual heels, but holding her close, her scent wafting between us, the heat coming off her body and with Michelle’s breasts pressed against my chest I was surprised to discover she was quite petite.
I could easily pick her up and carry her to her bedroom up the stairs.
Then, my senses overwhelmed by such intimate proximity, I nuzzled my face against Michelle’s neck, kissing her skin, teeth brushing her throat.
“Oh God, don’t,” breathed Michelle. “I shouldn’t have asked for a hug. I’m so close to kissing you, Alan,” she moaned. “I want to but I can’t cheat.” She pulled back and held me at arms’ length, holding my eyes with her hot, heavy-lidded gaze. “I <i>won’t</i> cheat,” she said through clenched teeth.
The reminder of her boyfriend filled me with guilt and I found the backbone to step away. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “You were so close and…”
I saw Michelle’s throat work with her own internal struggle. She held up a hand, eyes closed, cheek turned to me to silence my apology. “I shouldn’t have asked you to hug me,” she croaked, opening her eyes. With the glazed look gone, she added, “It was my fault. I was stupid to do it.” Michelle offered me a watery smile. “Thank you for the card, Alan,” she said. “Happy Valentine’s day.”
Then I was outside with my coat dangling from my hand, breath puffing in clouds as I tried to make sense of it all.
Fortunately I had an easy morning: a couple of oil changes and some other mechanical tinkering I could manage without concentrating. To focus on something more complex would have been impossible due to my drifting attention, my thoughts turning constantly to Michelle and the what-might-have-been scenarios.
Then there was the issue of her confession near the door: she had been close to kissing me.
I hugged that secret to me, savouring the happiness of knowing there was a chink in Michelle’s armour.
It had been a most revealing yet confounding twenty minutes in Michelle’s company and my mind continually turned over what she had said, the recollection of how close we’d come to kissing persistently pushing to the fore. There had been some progress – at least I knew how she felt and had somehow mined a nugget of pure gold, extracting the promise of a date from Michelle if it ever went wrong with her boyfriend.
Tormented by being so close yet still so far, I worked automatically and suffered through the morning until the tea-break at half ten. Then Michelle’s influence slewed my world again, the jolt coming as I walked past the office and John the manager called out to me.
John smirked when I paused at his door. “A <i>lady</i> came in with this for you.” He held an envelope up and waved it. “Looks like a Valentine’s card, Alan.” Leering at me, John indicated I should enter his domain. “You mucky dog,” he said, winking when I stepped in to take the proffered envelope. “She’s old enough to be your mum … but what a looker! I hope she’s teaching you the good stuff.” John winked again, clicking his tongue at me as I turned to leave. “Half your luck,” I heard from the office. “Wish my missis looked half as good…”
Incredulous, I scuttled along the corridor and went outside into the chill February day. I didn’t want the others to start on about the card. Right then I needed to open it in private. I would get enough stick from them later once John’s big mouth spread the word.
Everything lurched and twisted inside me when I scanned the handwritten scrawl inside the card. My heart leapt and my stomach flipped while anxiety and fear combined in a visceral curl. I felt the adrenalin surge, my pulse tub-thumping in my ears. Even my sphincter clenched when the meaning hit me.
The card shook as I read: Dinner tonight? Phone me. Michelle</i>. I saw a mobile number and breathed an epithet of amazement.
By the time I made the call I had the phone number memorised. I’d dithered, my mood oscillating between stratospheric euphoria and the depths of fear. Somehow, caught in a tumult of emotions, I worked on until lunchtime, sliding out through the back door to make the call at least six times in the interim. I snuck out with the intention of phoning Michelle firmly planted, always balking before pressing the send button. All morning as I worked on, my nerves tightened while I played conversations in my head. Then the hour for lunch was an agony of indecision, my mobile a constant in my hand, my fear rendering the device useless.
By then, thanks to the predictably indiscrete John, the word had gone round and I was the butt of outrageous banter. I took the hits, each jibe and supposedly humorous comment winding me tighter. Eventually, <i>finally</i>, only a minute or two before work recommenced, unable to countenance the strain of indecisiveness any longer, I let the call ring through.
…And hit voicemail.
When the recorded message began I panicked and hung up, fumbling with the phone in my agitation. Bending to collect the thing from the floor I cursed myself. “Don’t be such a wanker,” I muttered. “This is what you wanted. Just do it.”
So, sucking in a deep breath I tried again, leaving a somewhat stumbling message about having received the card and how dinner sounded fantastic.
As agitated as the proverbial cat on the hot tin roof I waited for a response, with my phone bleeping ten minutes later. I was leaning into the innards of a BMW at the time, busy doing nothing much since I was too fraught to work on anything meaningful.
When I heard the notification tone my heart literally skipped a beat, pulse accelerating like a jet-fighter off an aircraft carrier. I used a call of nature as an excuse to retrieve the text, the use of phones being strictly prohibited in the workshop. I was actually flouting the rules by having the device with me but was in such a state of high agitation I couldn’t leave it in my locker as convention demanded.
Inside the cubicle my hands shook so much I almost dropped the phone into the toilet pan. I cursed and forced myself to take deep breaths, calming myself sufficiently so I could press buttons in the right order with no major mishap.
And there it was, my fate decided. Michelle’s response was: <i>b hEr @ 7. I hav wine. Michelle xxx</i>.
“Oh shit,” I breathed, nerves dancing a jig in my guts. The allusion to the wine confused me – surely she didn’t mean…?
Scared witless by the possibilities I checked the time, wondering how I was going to keep sane with just under five-and-a-half hours until the dinner date with Michelle.
Somehow I got through the day and almost sprinted from the workshop as soon as it was time. At home I bathed and shaved and clock-watched, time passing with maddening recalcitrance. Finally, at five minutes to the hour I couldn’t bear to wait any longer, leaving the house, my mood switching at least half-a-dozen times between our gate and hers.
With the moment on me I walked towards her front door as though going to my own execution.
A gamut of emotions fought for supremacy: it was Christmas and the dentist all mixed up in one huge seething ball of trepidation and excitement, which only got worse when Michelle answered my knock. Everything surged when I saw her, huge welling of dread and keen excitement so strong I almost threw up.
“Well, hello, Alan,” murmured Michelle, amused eyes glinting at me from behind the rimless, rectangular windows of her spectacles. “I’m so glad you came.”
I stood there and gawped when she stepped aside and angled the door wider. The power of speech had left the building and I was unable to move. The best I could manage was to stare, agog.
I could tell by Michelle’s expression my response was exactly what she’d hoped for. Her choice of dress had achieved the desired effect and she smirked at me.
Michelle’s head tilted as she looked at me and said, “Are you going to stand there all evening? It’s cold, Alan; you’ll freeze if you don’t come in.”
In a daze I stepped into the house, stunned by her entirely modest but very provocative denim skirt, the hem falling to an extremely flattering point on Michelle’s thighs. My reaction owed less to brevity than the zip running suggestively perpendicular and dead centre along the front of the skirt. One pull upwards and she might as well not be wearing it.
“Happy Valentine’s day,” Michelle purred behind me, closing the door to seal me inside her lair. Moving past me, she added, “I have wine, or beer if you prefer. I’m assuming you’d like a proper drink? But you can always have coffee or tea, if you like.”
She moved to the kitchen, with me following in a fugue.
Michelle stood in front of the big American-style fridge and folded her arms, her stare confronting me as she asked, “What’ll it be, Alan?”
I roused myself and requested a beer, forcing my eyes away from the skirt and its incendiary zip. As my attention moved north to Michelle’s face, I took in the jade-green, short-sleeved, button-fronted blouse, the style incongruously reminiscent of something a clerk might wear to work – only a hell of a lot sexier when worn by Michelle, the high heels accentuating the erotic effect.
Michelle grinned at me. “Beer it is,” she smiled, turning towards the fridge.
With her back turned I took the opportunity to glance at Michelle’s derriere, her rounded buttocks thrust back slightly as she angled her pelvis and reached in to grab for beer and her bottle of wine. The shape of her legs sent a ripple of yearning through me, the shoes enhancing their aesthetic appeal. I was an ardent fan of Michelle’s well-turned ankles and calves and long, lean thighs.
“Here you go,” said Michelle, leaving me with the can cold in my hand while her heels pecked across the tiled floor. She pulled the cork and poured wine, closing her eyes in appreciation of the first sip. “Right, shall we go through to the lounge?” Michelle purred, expression questioning.
Still recovering, I emitted a less-than-articulate, “Uh … Yeah … Sure.”
Michelle chuckled and moved closer, reaching out to stroke my arm. “Come on then,” she crooned.
In the lounge we sat down, me in the chair I’d occupied in the morning while Michelle arranged herself on the sofa.
“There’s your card,” Michelle murmured, indicating a splash of colour next to the BOSE. She leaned back, reclining, watching my face when her skirt rode higher.
Feeling very much the prey I gulped beer, waiting for her to say something while Michelle sipped wine, her gaze feline over the rim of the glass.
Eventually, she spoke. “I suppose you’re wondering…?”
I blinked at her and, not yet able to speak, forced her to expand with, “About why I’ve invited you over. About Zach and what I said. I expect I’ve confused the hell out of you?”
To be honest I hadn’t thought about Zach at all, my mind had been too full of his girlfriend, but I gave a start at the mention of his name.
“Zach?” I croaked. “But…?
“It’s all right, Alan,” Michelle assured me. “I’ve spoken to him and he’s fine.”
“Huh-he’s fine?” I gasped. “Wuh-with what?”
Michelle smirked again, sipping wine, somehow contriving to slide further into the sofa, her skirt slipping higher.
“With this,” she cooed and then added a glittery-eyed, “With you being here with me. With us.”
It had been a day of repeated surprises, with this latest just one more body blow in a series of hits. I was digesting the implications of this snippet when Michelle slammed another punch at me.
She eyed me in her feline manner and purred, “You want to fuck me, don’t you?”
My scrotum tightened while my cock thickened automatically. Gape-mouthed I stared at her before summoning the mental capacity to croak a strangled, “Oh God. Yes. Yes please…”
“Tell me,” she continued, eyes lasering into my face. “Do you think about me and masturbate? Is that what you do, Alan? Do you think of me in my yellow bikini and stroke your cock?”
“Ooh,” I whined, speechless.
Michelle fingered the same dark beads around her neck, expression lupine. “You do, don’t you? I bet you imagine us up to all sorts of filthy stuff while you wank.” She placed the wine glass onto the coffee table and leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “It’s okay. I want you to tell me about it. Go on,” cajoled Michelle. “Tell me. You can be honest. You can be as graphic as you like. I don’t mind.”
“Please,” I gasped. “I … I can’t…”
She pouted and asked, “Why not? You’ve come over here with the express intention of fucking me. I’m going to see your cock anyway, Alan. If I asked you to wank in front of me, you’d probably do it. Why can’t you just tell me about what you imagine us doing? If it started the day you saw me in the bikini, you’ve been wanking about me for months.”
And I had. It was true. But for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to tell her all the lurid details. It would have been difficult enough to reveal such a private part of me to the Michelle I knew, but the woman sitting opposite me wasn’t her. This was a stranger with the honeyed voice and shining eyes. I’d never heard Michelle swear before; this was a completely different and hitherto hidden side to her and I didn’t know how to react.
I was dazed and confused, thoughts whirling while Michelle kept on, relentless.
“I’d like you to tell me about what goes on in your head while you do it,” she was saying, her tone low and narcotic. “It turns me on to think about a lovely young man fantasising about me while he tugs his cock. In fact, if you don’t want to tell me, I think I’d like to watch you instead, Alan. Would you do it for me, babe? Please, won’t you show me?”
Michelle shut up then. She sat there all sprawled out, limbs loose while her hot-eyed gaze challenged me. It went on for half-a-minute or more, the spring inside me winding tighter.
I don’t know what would have happened if her mobile hadn’t chirruped. I might have succumbed and unzipped and yanked at myself or, just as easily, I might have fled. As it is I’ll never know because the trilling phone broke the tension, with the pressure of Michelle’s focus on me abruptly relieved when she glanced away.
“It’s Zach,” she said, the information sending a jolt of apprehension through me. “Hello, gorgeous,” she purred, holding the handset to her ear while returning her gaze to me once again. “Yes,” Michelle said, grinning, “he’s here. The poor love seems scared to death … I don’t think he was quite prepared for what he found.”
Michelle’s eyes widened in response to whatever it was her boyfriend said next, her grin shifting a gear to a lopsided smirk as she replied with, “You’re wicked. Hold on, I’m just putting the phone down a sec.”
While I boggled, Michelle rose and calmly unfastened the zip. With the weight of yet another shock piling on top of the others, Michelle slumped back onto the sofa, leaning back as she picked up the phone. “Okay,” she giggled. “It’s done.” Then she blatantly spread her thighs to reveal underwear packed with plump vulva, exposing hold-up stockings into the bargain, a double-whammy which brought forth an involuntary gasp.
“Oh God,” I groaned, completely overwhelmed.
The fact Zach was some kind of perv slowly percolated into to my consciousness. Astonishment burgeoning throughout, I listened to Michelle’s side of the conversation, lust flaring as puppet-master Zach pulled invisible strings.
“He’s staring right between my legs,” Michelle gurgled. “Jesus, Zach, this is so bloody filthy.” A pause followed. “What?” she asked, with her eyes so round I could see the whole of the irises. “You dirty bugger,” gasped Michelle, nevertheless hooking a finger into her underwear and yanking the gusset aside. “There,” she breathed, face scarlet. “He can see me. I’m doing it, Zach, you pig. Yes, my pussy, I’m showing it to him.”
Her expression exactly mirrored my feelings. I saw it all written in the heavy eyelids and slack face. Michelle looked at me without really focussing, the maelstrom of shared carnal experiences churning inside the pair of us.
The dam burst inside me when I saw Michelle’s labia already slick with desire. It was the lewdest sight of my life so far: a mature woman so obviously ready for sex and dressed like she meant to get it. I lurched to my feet and unbuckled my belt, fingers going straight to the buttons of my flies. The jeans and underwear went to my knees, an erection like a club springing up.
“Jesus!” I heard Michelle yelp. “He’s got his cock out. Oh, Zach,” she moaned, a finger slipping across the bud of her clit. “It’s lovely. He’s big and hard…”
She’d said she wanted to see me stroking my cock, so I stroked my cock. I took hold of myself with one fist and jacked the whole length of my erection, a low groan coming out of me on a wave of pleasure.
“I’ve got to go, Zach,” Michelle murmured into the phone. Then she blinked, a puzzled look clouding her features as she snapped an indignant, “What?” Another burst of something from her boyfriend and Michelle continued with, “Yes, Zach, I know. You don’t have to remind me … Yes, I’ll control myself – to a point.” Michelle stared at my cock as I deliberately teased her with a slowly cranking hand. “But he wants to fuck me, Zach, and with what I’m looking at right now I think I want him to. God,” she groaned, eyes rolling, bottom lip caught between her teeth, “I’d love to sit on that thing. It’s so bloody <i>thick</i>. It’s a gorgeous cock…”
Michelle ended the call and tossed the phone aside. She shifted her rump against the settee, squirming so she could pull her underwear aside more readily.
“Sit down,” growled Michelle, fingers slipping over her scarlet, glistening sex. “Let me watch you,” she mewled, wincing. “Go on, Alan, wank it. Show me, babe. You watch me and I’ll watch you.”
I complied, fisting my length, all reticence evaporating as a hot rush of desire flooded through me. “I want to put it in,” I mumbled. “Please, Michelle, can’t I just fuck you.”
Michelle shook her head. “No,” she breathed. “Not yet. Oh God, Alan,” she sobbed. “I do want you to. I’m so fucking horny.” Her chest hitched as another sob burst out of her. “I’d love to feel you inside me, but…”
“What!” I cried, ire exploding in a fiery burst. “You’re teasing me? You’ve got to be joking, Michelle.” I released my erection, the long jib springing back against my stomach.
“You can,” she yelped. “We will … Just not yet. There’s…” Michelle blinked, hesitating, obviously unwilling to reveal the cause of her reluctance.
After a short deliberation, she mewled, “Just be patient. Let’s play some more first. Please, Alan,” whined Michelle, fingers sloshing through her gooey vulva. “If you fuck me now you’ll only come straight away.” Come on,” she crooned, “let’s take our time. Let’s play and watch each other…”
There was something she wasn’t telling me. I sensed an undercurrent. Something was brewing but I had no idea what it could be. The thought gnawed at me, but not for long, only until the sight of Michelle so lewdly presented won me over.
It went on for a few minutes. I worked at my cock while Michelle alternated between rubbing her clit and sliding fingers into her opening. The surge threatened once, my need close to boiling, but I avoided carnage by the slimmest of margins, gritting my teeth and snarling in frustration when I forced myself to let go of my dick.
“Agh … Ah shit,” I grimaced, muscles tight, cock throbbing.
Through her spectacles, Michelle looked on, fascinated, legs widespread, her hand resting motionless on her vulva.
“Are you going to come?” she sighed.
I grunted an incoherent response, jaw clenching while air hissed from my nose. I snorted and gasped, unsure if the cannon weren’t about to spontaneously fire off a salvo of ejaculate.
“I’m going to go mental if we keep doing this,” I groaned when the danger passed.
“I’m sorry,” Michelle replied, heaving herself upright, legs closing. “But it’s Zach, Alan. He’s in charge. I can’t do anything unless he says it’s all right. This morning after you’d gone I called him and told him about the card; I told him it was you who’s been sending the notes. I told him everything, Alan. I said I fancied you and <i>he</i> came up with the idea.”
Yet again I was rendered speechless as the news sunk in.
“You don’t know him, Alan. If you did, you wouldn’t be too surprised. It was his idea to invite you for dinner. He said I should dress this way; Zach told me what I could and couldn’t do. You can look at me but we’re not allowed to touch – not until he says it’s okay.”
Inwardly I cursed Zach for all the bastards who ever walked the Earth. “That’s crazy,” I said, shaking my head.
Michelle shrugged and pulled a face. “It’s the way it is. He’s my boyfriend, we’re together.” She pointed a finger at me and added, “You’re the outsider, Alan. Besides,” smirked Michelle, “I like it. I’m enjoying myself. It’s kinky, isn’t it? And it really turns me on. Denying ourselves the pleasure makes it so much sexier.”
“Buh-but what about me? What do I get out of it?” Indignation was rising in me again.
Michelle chuckled and winked. “Me,” she cooed. “All you have to do is play along with it. I promise you, if you go with it, if you play the game…
“Well, you’ll get what you’ve been thinking about all these past months.” Her expression shifted to something close to feral. “You won’t have to wank, Alan … We can fuck.”
The look on her face and the way Michelle delivered those words triggered a charge of desire. Lust burned. I ached to stick my cock into her.
“You can wait a little while longer, can’t you?” Michelle added on a sigh, reclining and spreading her thighs. She pouted and, with a provocative spoiled brat lisp, finished with, “Can’t you wait just a little bit longer? My tight little pussy is worth it, isn’t it?”
I groaned, swallowing heavily, head bobbing up and down while I gaped at Michelle’s fingers sliding around her greasy vulva. “Yes,” I croaked, not knowing how much longer I would be able to stop from just launching myself at her.
Michelle grinned. “So, tell me,” she continued, tone bright. “Just what <i>did</i> you think while masturbating over me?”
I told her about the first time, about how I’d imagined her naked in her garden, the summer sun warm on our skin as we lay on the lawn together. I told Michelle I’d fantasised about fucking into her from behind, how I’d tugged my cock and seen myself in my mind’s eye, her tits in my palms while leaning low over her back, her urgent backthrust forcing her buttocks against me while she moaned and groaned and begged me to do it to her.
Michelle stroked her sex, languidly fingering her gooey labia, her attention fixed upon me while I went on about more sophisticated scenarios.
“I thought about us together on holiday,” I murmured. “Somewhere warm where we had a villa to ourselves. There was a pool and we’d swim naked. We’d lie out in the sun and then shag. You sucked my cock and I came all over … all over your boobs … All over your face.”
Michelle blurted a laugh and rolled her eyes. “What is it with men and coming on a woman’s tits and face?”
I had no response other than to shrug and mumble, “I dunno. It’s hot?”
Crinkling her nose, Michelle said, “In porn, perhaps. But it isn’t something most women are too enthusiastic about, Alan.” Then her eyes glittered with devilment behind the lenses of her glasses. Michelle winked at me, the corner of her mouth twitching. “But I’ll let you do it … If you like. As a special favour for Valentine’s Day. How about it? Would you like to spunk on my face and boobs?”
Would I? Of course I would. I was thrilled by the thought of splashing the hot stuff all over Michelle.
I was about to say so when her phone rang again.
“We’re just talking,” Michelle said. She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “No,” she sighed, “he hasn’t touched me. I explained the rules, Zach.”
Michelle listened while her boyfriend spoke.
“He’s going to play the game,” she said, her eyes remaining fixed upon me. “I’m still wearing my skirt and blouse.” Michelle paused, attentive. “Yes, the stockings and shoes too, Zach,” she chuckled. “Yes, I know you love to see me in the gear – how many times do you have to say it!
“Alan’s still dressed, too; although he’s got his jeans around his knees…
“He says you should take your clothes off,” Michelle said to me. She rose to her feet, presumably at some instruction from Zach. “But help me out of this skirt first,” she added.
My throat worked as I went to her. I had to yank my jeans up before I could kneel and pull Michelle’s skirt over her hips. It fell to her shoes and she stepped out as elegant as a dancer, one hand on my shoulder for support.
“Knickers,” breathed Michelle. “Pull them off me, Alan.”
Michelle’s bare pudendum was right there, inches from my face, her vulva decorated by a strip of precisely coiffed pubic hair, an insignificant remnant of her bush at the apex of her slit.
I stared at Michelle’s body for a few seconds, yearning for her a hot coal in the pit of my stomach, desire flaring somewhere deeper when I saw the faded outline of her summer tan, the subtle contrast in skin tone a reminder of the day of the yellow bikini.
“He wants to talk to you,” I heard Michelle say in a throaty gurgle, her voice interrupting a flash of memory.
With great reluctance – I didn’t want to talk to the man – I took the phone and held it to my ear.
“Huh-hello?” I warbled.
A man’s voice, deep and gravelly, the accent distinctly regional, somewhere from the north of England: “So, you wanna shag my girlfriend?”
“Uh, well…” I replied, flustered by the circumstances and his low growl.
Zach chuckled. “I don’t blame you,” he said, tone lightening. “I know how you feel. She’s fuckin’ sexy, eh?”
I managed to reply with a shaky, “I think so, yes.”
He laughed. “Oh, I know that, son. I’ve seen the letters you sent.”
Icy fear chilled me. I knew Zach was a big man, all broad-shoulders and thick arms. Hearing him speak sent a shudder through me. If he had a mind to, if he took offence to anything I said or did, he could easily rip me apart.
Then the suspicion crept up and I wondered if this wasn’t some kind of elaborate set-up, a trap to ensnare me.
“I’m sorry about everything,” I blurted. “I didn’t mean--”
“It’s all right,” Zach said, cutting me off. “Don’t worry about it. Forget all that, eh. I just wanna know if you’ll be okay to do a few things for me.”
I blinked and looked at Michelle. She was standing close by, head tilted as she listened to me doubtfully ask, “A few things?”
“Yeah, a few things. Do you want to shag her, or not?”
Seeing Michelle there all bare-arsed and all long legs curdled my insides. It was a ridiculous question – who <i>wouldn’t</i> want to fuck her?
“Yeah,” I groaned, misgivings over Zach’s intentions melting while desire burned hot.
“Okay, so to get there all you have to do is listen to me and do what I say. Is that okay with you, mate? We got a deal, then?”
Staring at Michelle, without asking for any elaboration as to just what I was signing up to, I nodded and mumbled a clotted, “Yes.”
Zach got to business immediately. “Right,” he said, tone brusque. “Tell her to take her top off.”
I relayed the instruction and Michelle’s fingers unfastened the buttons. The blouse gaped and I boggled at the sight. There they were, almost. I could see the upper slopes of Michelle’s large breasts bubbling over the cups of a dark-blue bra, the garment masking her nipples while the same two-tone shades of skin triggered a shudder of yearning.
“She done it?” Zach asked, his next command being for Michelle to completely remove the blouse. “Okay,” he continued. “Tell her to get her tits out. Tell her to do it the way I like; she’ll know what you mean.”
When I told her, Michelle pulled at one strap and levered a breast from within. She performed the same operation with the other weighty orb; then stood there, fists on her hips, tits cantilevered over her bra in a most pleasing aspect.
“What do you think?” Zach asked.
“Ah fuck,” I replied, to which he chuckled and told me to pass the phone to Michelle.
“Take your clothes off,” she reminded me.
I was naked in seconds, eager for whatever Zach had in store next.
“Yes, okay,” Michelle said, her attention going to my face. “He says you can touch my breasts,” she informed me. You can suck my nipples, too, Alan.”
Those words unleashed the b**st. After a few beats of gawping I rose from my knees and lunged, hands falling against Michelle’s flesh for the first time. I hefted her tits in both palms and leaned in, cock waggling as I sucked on her thick, elongated teats, my tongue describing wet circles around the pale discs of their areolae.
“Good God!” Michelle cried at my vehement assault. “Bloody hell, Zach, you’ve created a monster.” She forced my face from her body and pushed me away with her hand on my shoulder. “Steady on, Alan,” gasped Michelle. “Easy tiger.”
I lunged again but Michelle pirouetted away.
She batted a hand at me, the phone at her ear. “Yes, okay. Got it, Zach … I understand … Yes.”
She turned to face me, the phone loose in her fingers at her side.
“Kiss me, Alan,” she purred.
My hands moved all over Michelle’s body while the kiss rolled on and on.
Skin! Her bare skin beneath my palms! I was touching her – I had my hands on her body at last. This was no fantasy, this was real.
The texture of her was a mix of contrasts: silky-smooth skin, soft to my touch in places while other parts were pliant and spongy. I cupped Michelle’s buttocks and pulled her close, her big breasts squeezed between us, my cock trapped against her stomach.
When, eventually, the kiss broke and with both of us gasping a hawser of silvery pre-cum connected us, the thread linking my cock-head with Michelle’s upper thigh.
“You’re a very excited young man, aren’t you?” trilled Michelle, eyes gleaming.
I groaned when her fingers encircled my girth.
“I can’t wait to feel you inside me,” she added, sighing. A few quick strokes and she released my cock. “But I’m not supposed to touch you yet,” said Michelle, pouting. <i>Oops</i>, she mouthed to me in secret, lifting the phone to her ear.
“Now what?” she asked Zach.
Michelle cast a sly look at the erection she’d just grasped so illicitly; then she winked at me and strode to the sofa where she plonked down and reclined, legs going wide.
“But you can lick me,” she purred, splaying her neat labia with the fingertips of her free hand. “Zach says it’s all right to suck my clit, Alan.” Hot-eyed she pointed to her sex. “So get to it. Lick my pussy,” she breathed.
A band of excitement squeezed my chest. I sucked in a breath and, unable to resist the urge, tugged at my cock as I went to her.
“He’s going to do it,” Michelle squeaked into the phone. She wriggled and squirmed, rump sliding towards the sofa edge. Moving her feet, Michelle forced her legs wider, inviting me to kneel between her shoes.
I dropped in and soaked up the detail, storing the memory for future use.
“Go on,” urged Michelle when I glanced to her face. “Kiss it,” she sighed, squirming again. “Please.”
I heard her gasp when I moved in and dabbed at the taut, shiny nub of scarlet flesh. Michelle groaned, her fingers clutching at my hair while I probed at her opening, her desire slick and viscous against my tongue.
When I tasted her I was jacking my dick, my need for relief a near overwhelming imperative. But then Michelle told me to hold her open so I could lap at her button, a snarled instruction which required both hands free.
Reluctantly I let go of myself and spread her delicate folds, Michelle’s hips jerking back-and-forth.
Her own yearning left her gasping into the phone. “He’s licking it,” squeaked Michelle, a groan bubbling from her. “Oh God it’s divine.” She yanked at my hair and all but tore a handful out by the roots as she dragged me along the front of her body.
We kissed again, Michelle’s tongue curling and writhing around mine, her gasps and grunts of pleasure going into my open mouth while she held her legs folded at the knees, her shoes digging into my flanks.
“I’ve just tasted my pussy on his tongue,” she gabbled. “Oh God, Zach … I’m so bloody horny, babe. I’m so worked up. I need to fuck, darling. Please, can’t I just let him put it in?”
My head went up from where I was busy between her legs. I looked at Michelle’s face and experienced an arterial burst of lust when I saw her expression. She caught my stare and held my gaze locked, her eyes glazing while she lowered a hand to her vulva.
“I need to come,” pouted Michelle, gasping. “Please, Zach … just let me fuck him.”
It went on for another thirty seconds or so, perhaps a minute. I listened to Michelle <i>begging</i> for permission while I cranked my cock and alternated my oral attention between both nipples.
I kneaded tit-flesh and sucked at her teats, moving back down to lick her clit while Michelle worked two fingers inside her opening, her wrist swan-necked under her thigh. She was moaning and gasping and whining on, her exhortations rapidly taking me to the point where I would be reckless enough to flout Zach’s restrictions.
It had gone to the point where I was manoeuvring myself to a position so I could aim my cock-head at Michelle’s body and lunge. I was as desperate as Michelle by then, desire to feel her around my cock near to irresistible.
I couldn’t stand it. There she was all ripe and ready and absolutely choking to fuck. I was hard, stiffer than I ever had been before. My arousal was at fever pitch. Rational thought and common sense were deserting me. I was crazed with need, the instinct to fuck into Michelle’s body a primordial force I could no longer deny.
“Oh God, I need to fuck,” Michelle grunted, shifting her body so one thrust would see me inside her. “I need to come … I have to fuck,” she squealed. “Zach, please,” Michelle pleaded. “Can’t I just do it?”
His voice came from behind me, the shock of it instantly freezing me in place.
“Zach!” Michelle yelped, scooting backwards as she gaped and blinked over my shoulder. “I thought you’d never get here. I’ve been going mad with it…”
My flaming ardour turned to ice when I realised Zach was in the house with us. I turned in time to see a grinning Zach holding up a mobile phone.
“I know, Michelle. You’ve been babbling on at me, woman.” Then his attention zeroed in on me. “Looks like I got here just in time.” Zach’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he added, “You weren’t going to shag her, were you, mate?”
I gaped and twisted around, falling in the process, my backside encountering cold parquet. Gasping, feeling exposed and extremely vulnerable in my nakedness, I held up a placatory hand. “Uh,” I grunted, no coherent thoughts coming to mind. “I…”
But Zach laughed and shrugged. “I didn’t think so,” he quipped, the jocular tone belied by the glint in his eyes. The man might have sounded like he was joking but I knew he was less than pleased. While I considered the ramifications of just how close I’d been to fucking Michelle and experienced a tremor of fear at what might have happened if he’d walked in to find me balls deep inside his girlfriend.
“I brought the food and some refreshments,” Zach continued, holding up two pizza boxes with one hand, a plastic bag, his phone and a set of keys in the other. “I’ll just pop this lot into the kitchen,” he said, leering at us while he finished with, “I’ll be back in a sec; don’t get up to no mischief while I’m gone.”
“Shit,” I breathed, the reality of my close-call a delayed reaction as my limbs began to tremble.
Above me, on the sofa, Michelle just laughed.
I struggled to my feet and, not long afterwards, Zach returned.
“God yes,” Michelle breathed when her boyfriend appeared.
I could see why she was so enthusiastic, why she was so pleased to see him. The man was naked, his physical presence dominating the room. I looked at him and saw massive shoulders and bulging biceps, his stomach taut and ribbed, heavy slabs of pectoral muscle on his chest. Zach was an imposing figure, some height north of six foot. But it wasn’t just the size of Zach’s body that caught my attention and brought the gasp of delight from Michelle as well, it was the great projection of his huge cock, the appendage hanging there with its shaft criss-crossed with gnarled, veiny protrusions, the domed head bulging all purple and angry.
“Okay,” Zach growled, rubbing his palms together while I gawped at the medieval instrument of torture jutting from his groin. “Let’s get this party started.” Zach raised a can of beer dwarfed in one massive paw. “Cheers,” he said, winking as he held an envelope out to Michelle. “I got you a card, luv.”
Michelle placed Zach’s card next to mine and, after a minor adjustment, satisfied with the arrangement, turned to her boyfriend. “Thank you, babe,” she breathed, a stab of jealousy piercing my side when she d****d her arms around the man’s neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss his mouth.
The corrosive emotion curdled inside me while I looked on, Zach’s fingers spreading around Michelle’s waist, their size almost totally encompassing the woman. The couple kissed, moaning and sighing while their tongues writhed together in a liquid, serpentine dance.
Eventually they broke apart, Michelle’s hand going to her lover’s cock. “What a lucky girl I am,” she twittered, smiling at me as she jacked Zach’s impressive length. “Two cocks for Valentine’s Day.”
Zach chuckled and eyed me before growling, “You <i>might</i> get two cocks, luv. If our friend does as he’s told.”
Michelle nodded. “I hope so, Zach,” she replied, squeezing and manipulating his awful length. “You’ll do whatever it takes, won’t you, Alan? Please say you will.”
Again, without knowing what I was letting myself in for, I gulped and indicated my acceptance of the terms with a single nod.
Zach chuckled and kept his eyes on me while asserting his role as top dog, kissing Michelle with exaggerated fervour. Using only his mouth he dominated his girlfriend and put me in my place on the totem-pole.
“Sit down, ‘Chelle,” Zach rumbled, jacking a hand along his root while easing Michelle onto the settee. “Time to give my dick some lips and tongue.”
I’d never seen anything like it. It was my own private porn show. Michelle sat and eagerly reached for Zach’s erection. She cranked at it with both hands for a few brisk tugs before licking the big mushroomed head.
“Yeah, babe,” the man grunted, eyes closing. “Suck me, ‘Chelle. Suck my cock.”
By then I was standing some feet away, gape-mouthed and awed by the lewd display, wishing it was my bell-end Michelle was slurping on.
“She’s fuckin’ good at it,” Zach groaned, winking at me. “She’s one of the best.”
I couldn’t stand to look at his face. My attention went to where Michelle’s lips were stretched tight around Zach’s shaft and my diminished libido awoke with a snarl when I saw her face distorted by all that meat. I continued to stare at Michelle while she sucked Zach’s cock and worked a hand at his root, with Zach’s dangling testes cupped in the palm of her other hand.
“Fuckin’ sexy ain’t she?” asked Zach, a rhetorical question it seemed since he immediately continued with, “Stockings, shoes, big tits…” The man gasped and muttered something incoherent. “Yeah,” he moaned, beaming a smile at Michelle’s head as it bobbed back-and-forth, her lips smacking off the end of his dick. “Go on, girl … Suck it … Do it the way I like it.”
Michelle pulled back and grinned up at her lover. “Like this?” she cooed before painting her face with the large cock-head, pre-cum seeping from the eye and smearing a snail trail over her cheeks. She slapped the keel of the thing against her outstretched tongue, gomming at the head again, a hand jacking at Zach quickly.
“Fuck yeah,” the man moaned, wincing with the pleasure of it.
Then, as I stood there transfixed, while Michelle squashed the cock-head against her pursed lips, Zach beckoned to me with the curl of an arm. “Come here, mate,” he said. “Join in. It’s your turn.”
I thought he meant it was time for Michelle to have a go at my cock and, after the briefest pause while I processed the invitation, while moving to the settee I truly thought I was at last going to experience the woman I’d lusted over for so long.
But it turned out that wasn’t what Zach meant at all. When he said it was my turn what he really meant was for <i>me</i> to have a go at sucking his imposing length of male gristle.
Zach stood in front of her while Michelle sat on the sofa, the woman leaning in to suck his cock. His attention flicked between Michelle and me while she went at him with apparent relish. She sucked her cheeks concave and then swirled her tongue around the swollen cock-head, boldly holding my focus with her eyes while lewdly running her tongue from the tip to Zach’s balls.
Michelle jacked him with one fist as she then swivelled her face towards me. “Taste him on my tongue,” she drawled, offering her mouth for my kiss.
“Yeah,” I heard Zach whisper when I did so. “That’s it, ‘Chelle … Ease him into it. Reel him in, luv.”
They didn’t seem to have twigged I didn’t need much persuasion and the coaxing was entirely unnecessary. I was sitting next to Michelle while she continued to slurp and slobber at Zach’s dick. It was a moment in time during which I had no clear impressions. Everything was all a blur. The overriding sense I can recall was desire for Michelle. I was so close to achieving my goal of possessing her physically, so near to realising my carnal ambitions that the idea of taking Zach’s sizeable member between my lips was in no way repugnant. In that situation, with Michelle present, I would have acquiesced anyway. Lust for the woman overwhelmed me, sucking a cock was no obstacle at all.
But at her invitationI kissed Michelle and mauled her breasts, tugging hard at my cock at the same time.
Michelle gasped when we parted, her eyes gleaming as she offered Zach’s length to me. “Are you going to do it?” she whined, wriggling, face slack with expectation. Michelle waggled the big cock and moaned an incentive. “If you do, you can fuck me.” Her eyes flicked up to Zach’s grinning countenance. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, you dirty bastard?”
“Yeah, ‘Chelle,” Zach crooned. “He sucks me, he fucks you. I’m a man of my word.”
“You’re a pervert,” Michelle returned, her fist working back and forth.
Zach moaned and grunted while Michelle worked his length. “Yeah, and you fuckin’ love it,” he returned. “You come across as little miss prim but you love a bit of cock, eh?”
“Two of you,” Michelle breathed, her expression dreamy for a few seconds before her eyes cleared and she looked directly at me. “I want two cocks, Alan,” she snarled. “Are you going to do it so I get the pleasure of you two lovely boys tonight?” She treated me to her feline smirk and finished with, “It’s Valentine’s, darling. A girl should get a treat today.”
Reality blurred when Michelle’s hand ceased pumping Zach’s erection. Seconds stretched while I surveyed the bulbous cock-head, my attention flicking to Michelle’s face. I saw an expression so expectantly avid, Michelle a voluptuary yearning for me to open my mouth and take Zach between my lips. Lust boiled over and I reached for him, my fingers replacing Michelle’s, my fist closing around the meaty girth.
It was strange, holding another man’s cock – so similar but yet so different. Zach was much thicker than me, his size truly spectacular, and the weight of him in my hand sent a hot thrill surging within me. I was elated to be there with the two of them, on the cusp of a new and exciting sexual adventure.
I gave Zach’s length an experimental tug, wanking his cock, coaxing a moan out of him.
“Oh God,” Michelle gurgled. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you? Alan,” she breathed. “You’re actually going to suck him…”
“You do it again,” I said, offering Zach to her.
Michelle stared at me, her face slack as she moaned, “Will you share it with me?”
I nodded and was rewarded by Michelle’s wince as she swallowed heavily. Then, with our gazes locked, she leaned in to suck Zach’s cock-head.
I watched her at it for several seconds before easing her away, my hand against Michelle’s shoulder.
“Let me,” I whispered, pursing my lips.
I kissed Zach’s cock and then opened my mouth to take him.
“Oh,” whined Michelle. “Oh my God. That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He filled my mouth, the mass of cock meat stretching my lips. I gagged and pulled back, coughing while Michelle trilled a delighted laugh.
“It’s all right,” I spluttered. “It caught me by surprise.”
From Michelle as she slid closer to me: “You’ve never done this before, have you? This is a big cock to try as a blow-job virgin, Alan.” Michelle then moved in for an ardent kiss, moaning into my mouth while our tongues slid and writhed. “Here,” she gasped, breaking away. “Let’s share it between us. I’ll show you how to treat this big thing.” Winking at me before chucking a smirk at Zach, Michelle finished with, “Between us, babe, we’ll have him moaning in no time.”
Michelle told Zach to sit down, which he did promptly, slipping into the gap between us when the woman eased her rump sideways across the couch.
At her instruction we bookended Zach’s erection, me lying on my side one way while Michelle adopted the same position on Zach’s opposite flank.
I looked on as she d****d her torso across his lap and took hold of his dick, her big tits squashing against the man’s thick thigh.
“Fuckin’ hell, ‘Chelle,” growled Zach when he stared down at Michelle and her lips hoovered his knob-end. “You’re made for sucking cock, girl … You’re a fuckin’ dream.”
Ignoring him, Michelle kept working Zach’s length with one hand, her tongue slipping over and around the purple glans.
“You now,” she muttered, handing Zach to me.
I took hold and jacked at him, licking and slurping the bell-end and moaning, following Michelle’s example.
“Oh my God,” Michelle sighed. “Fuck, Alan … Look at you. Jesus Christ,” she blasphemed, “This is just the dirtiest…” Pausing, Michelle groaned and added, “Zach … This is fantastic. I never knew it would be so sexy to see a man sucking you. God, babe, I can’t get over it. It … It’s…”
As I licked and sucked I began to appreciate the separate sensations, the flavour and texture of a hard cock in my hand, between my lips, and on my tongue.
I got a hint of male saltiness and the oily slide of pre-cum, the viscosity not unlike the desire I’d lapped from Michelle’s opening earlier. Along with Michelle’s breathy comments of amazement and appreciation, I heard Zach moan and grunt and mutter profanities, his words an indication he too appreciated my efforts.
I kept on at him, working his cock with my hand, the bulb in my mouth while squeaks of delight and the occasional mumble of encouragement came from Michelle.
If I’d been asked to suck a cock in the cold light of day I probably would have balked. I wouldn’t have run away screaming, but I’m certain I would have refused. However, as I took Zach’s cock-head between my lips, Michelle there as part of it only enhanced the eroticism of the experience. Slurping on his big thing excited me, while passing it to Michelle and witnessing her enthusiasm added an extra element of nastiness to the whole scene.
For the next few minutes we used Zach between us, my confidence soaring every time I took control from Michelle. Michelle stared into my eyes, locking my focus while I copied her style and lipsticked the cock-head over my cheeks and forehead. I played up to her, licking lasciviously, grinning at her around my mouthful of dick, goading her to go better and dirtier.
During those minutes I felt Zach as an intelligence wasn’t with us. He was just this big dick for the pair of us to play with. Michelle and I were cocooned in our own little bubble, communicating with a look or raised eyebrow or smirk, a moan or a gasp.
“Thank you,” Michelle sighed, leaning over her lover to kiss my mouth. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” she whispered, eyes shining with a near fanatical light. “I hoped you would, but I didn’t believe…” Michelle paused, gasping while her eyes rolled in appreciation. “But here you are,” she added. “Here <i>we</i> are…
“Oh, Alan, I can’t tell you how wonderful this is going to be. I … I…” Michelle stammered, “I’ve never had two men before. This is a first for me, too…”
Then she rose up and kissed Zach, the cuprous jealousy souring my throat.
The corrosive emotion filled me when I heard Michelle muttering affectionate words to her lover, oddly tender and intimate sentiments given I was right there with them. I hated them for their closeness when Zach chuckled and returned Michelle’s kiss with vehement ardour, his hands going to her breasts.
Determined to make an impression and drive a wedge between them I pushed away from the sofa and rose to my feet, crouching so I could part the globes of Michelle’s buttocks as she knelt on the cushion. She gasped and swivelled round, looking back at me over one shoulder while I stared at the exposed smudge of her sphincter and greasy vulva.
“What are you doing?” Michelle breathed, blinking.
“Tasting you,” I replied, ducking in low, kneeling on the floor so I could dab my tongue at her anus.
Delight burst out of Michelle, a cry of pleasure that brought a grunt of questioning from Zach.
“He’s licking my arse!” Michelle yelped. “Oh God,” she gasped, “that’s wicked; it’s bloody lovely…”
I lapped and licked her puckered ring. I probed at her muddy-hole and sucked on her clit when her writhing and squirming allowed me access. I jacked at my cock, goading myself towards the surge, my orgasm rising like a hot tide.
“Go on, lad,” I vaguely heard from Zach. “Get in there, mate. She loves it. Good on you…”
It seemed he was correct, Michelle was making enough noise to be heard next door and I wondered if my mother and father would hear the chaos and call the police. She was gasping and grunting and trying to work a hand between her legs, fingers rubbing frantically at her clit while I clung on and maintained my oral assault between the cheeks of her arse.
“I need to fuck!” Michelle cried out, collapsing in a sprawl-limbed heap next to Zach, her action cooling my ardour. “Please, just fuck me,” she gasped, chest heaving, eyes bright.
It was Zach who moved first. The bastard usurped my position, hurriedly rolling to loom over Michelle’s supine form. He manhandled her onto the settee and spread her legs, yanking at the woman’s hips until he had her on her back, wide open and ready.
“God,” Michelle gurgled, eyes closed, wincing as Zach fed his length into her body. “Fuck me,” she whined, hips jerking. Michelle clawed at Zach’s chest and implored him to go at her. She was spitting and hot-eyed, her need desperately urgent. “In my mouth,” she gasped in my direction, a hand reaching for me. “I want both of you together … Please, in my mouth…”
It was surreal seeing Michelle arranged on the couch with Zach trusting away, his cock wedged inside her body. Of course I knew it was reality, but actually witnessing it, seeing two people fucking right in front of my eyes took some believing.
I gulped and gawped, a sense of detachment settling over me. For me it was like I was more voyeur than active participant. Okay, Michelle was moaning around a mouth full of my cock, her hand was squeezing my shaft close to my balls, but, somehow, the sensations I would have expected weren’t travelling along any neurological path to my brain.
Michelle was going at me, head bobbing while her tongue worked in quick flicks and long, lascivious slurps. I should have been groaning along with her, I should have been matching Zach grunt for grunt yet couldn’t seem to reconcile what was happening to my body with what was going on inside my head. Despite being in the midst of debauchery, my strange detached objectivity held my outpouring in check.
Michelle gabbled nonsense while Zach pumped at her, their moans and sighs peppered with the obscenities the man mumbled out loud, his head lolling, teeth gritted.
“Shit,” Zach eventually gasped. “’Chelle … I gotta stop, babe. If I don’t I’ll…” He rose up, the swollen length of him smeared and glistening.
The sight of his magnificent appendage broke the spell. Desire swept over me in a tsunami of lust. I was down on my knees with Zach in my mouth before I knew I was going to do it.
“Oh God,” Michelle sobbed. “Look at him sucking my pussy off you, Zach.”
With the woman’s essence coating Zach’s cock as I sucked and licked him I glanced askance at Michelle, the sight of her lying there rubbing her vulva bringing a moan from me.
“Suck his cock!” Zach growled to Michelle while holding his own length steady for me to lick from balls to tip. “Go on, ‘Chelle … Suck him while he does me.”
I kept Zach between my lips as I angled my pelvis and Michelle joined me on the floor. Her heels clattered when she moved to kneel next to me. She leaned in and held me upright before sliding her lips over the swollen cock-head. We daisy-chained, me going at Zach while Michelle jacked at me and sucked my bell-end, a hand busy between her legs, fingers sloshing through her vulva.
“Ah fuck…” I heard Zach grunt, his hips bucking while his backside lifted off the cushion. I kept up the pressure with my rapid fist. “Shit--,” he gurgled.
And then the first splash of semen flicked across my face.
I yelped, surprised. Oddly I had no clue as to what had occurred, Zach’s spurt of ejaculate catching me completely unawares.
“I’m fuckin’ coming!” the man sobbed as gobs of jizm spattered over my cheek and bridge of my nose. “Shit … he’s sucked me off! I’m coming!”
Acting on instinct I opened my mouth and felt semen splash against my tongue. It tasted brackish, a little bitter yet salty, not at all unpleasant. Even in the midst of surprise I knew it was something I’d want to experience again. Zach’s spunk spattered over me and, with the thought of what was happening flashing into my mind, when I realised just what was going on, I moaned and grunted for him to come on my face, my own excitement rising, spunk exploding from my cock.
I gulped Zach’s cum, tasting the salty virility while Michelle, somewhat more experienced than I, yelped in delight and took the force of my first squirts on her face, dollops of the stuff coating the lenses of her spectacles.
“You wanted it on my face!” she cried. “And my tits!” Michelle cranked my cock and aimed the spurting eye at her breasts. “There you go, Alan,” she squealed. “That’s it, babe … Oh fuck, look at us … We’re both covered in spunk!”
I groaned and gasped and grunted, ejaculate pumping from me while I ran my tongue around my lips and licked up Zach’s lust.
I was still in the throes when Michelle presented herself to me, her jizm-spattered face split by a broad smile.
At her whispered request, we kissed, sharing spunk. She licked Zach’s goo off my face and offered the mess to me. I sucked it from her tongue and smeared my own gloop over her breasts.
“I want to fuck you now,” I growled.
Michelle blinked, surprise turning to a grin of pleasure. “You’ll stay hard?” she gasped.
“With you, like this?” I replied. “You bet, Michelle.”
She giggled and took off her glasses, arranging herself on the sofa, arms and legs wide in invitation.
I climbed aboard, savouring the moment, soaking up every detail of the carnage before I sank balls deep into Michelle.
“Yes,” the woman sighed, legs folding at the knees, heels jagging my thighs. “Fuck me, Alan,” she crooned. “Give it to me, darling.”
Zach looked on while I fucked his girlfriend. He sat in the chair and watched intently, no emotion other than avid interest apparent.
Michelle lay under me, her hips moving as she urged me to go deep and hard, then soft and gentle. When she moaned at me to take my time and ease slowly in and out, I lowered myself down onto my elbows and kissed her, emotion swelling inside me before I ducked lower and licked my own semen from her breast.
“Can we do this again?” I murmured into her ear. “Me and you? Can we do this together again?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Michelle breathed. “For now, just love me, darling. Love me with your cock. Take it slow, babe. I’ll come if you treat me gently.”
So, for the next few minutes it was lovey-dovey, with me moving as Michelle asked. She held me, kissing me often while we rocked together, her climax slowly bubbling.
“Ooh,” Michelle winced, bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m going to come,” she sighed. “Please, get up and pound me,” she grunted, lifting up onto her elbows, chin on her chest with her focus on our conjunction. “Let me see it going in.” Michelle’s pelvis jerked. She leaned to one side and mauled at one breast, fingers plucking her nipple. “Fuck me,” she grunted, the sensations claiming her. “Ride me. Do it hard.”
I got her there with robust fucking while she fingered her clit. The woman gasped and sobbed, moaning her pleasure, body convulsing while her cries burst from her throat.
While Michelle juddered and groaned I pulled out and hauled her around. It was a struggle but I managed to get Michelle turned onto her knees while her orgasm boiled and raged.
Recovering slightly she swivelled at the waist, breasts swaying while Michelle surveyed me moving behind her.
“God, you’re a machine,” she squeaked, exultant. “More, babe,” she added, spreading her buttocks so her cunt gaped all wet and scarlet. “Give me that lovely cock.”
We rutted for another twenty minutes or so, with me fucking into Michelle from behind, our bodies colliding with meaty slaps. Leaning in low over her back meant I could grab for her breasts, their weight in my palms while I squeezed and savoured their texture.
We also tried it standing up, with me battering her from behind, my hands on her hips, her heels pecking at the parquet flooring as Michelle struggled to stay on her feet. Michelle was mad for it, moaning and gasping and mewling while Zach looked at us and stroked himself to a second hard-on. Her head lolled loose and she sobbed with delight, what spare flesh she had on her hips rippling under the impact of my energetic thrusting.
At one point, after I pulled out for a change of position, Zach and Michelle sucked at me, kissing when they met at the end of my cock. Michelle came up while Zach carried on slurping my bell-end.
Before pushing her tongue into my mouth Michelle whispered, “This is so bloody dirty. I can’t tell you how I feel, Alan,” she enthused. “It’s been the best night, darling…” Then, after the kiss Michelle pointed to the sofa and announced she wanted to ride me.
Before she sank down onto my upright length, Zach arrived and gommed my cock-head, his tongue then sliding over the entire length of me. After swirling the tip of his tongue around the sensitive frenulum, tickling the underside of my bell-end, he held me steady so Michelle could take me into her body.
Michelle moaned when I held her waist and sucked her wildly swinging breasts, her hands on the back of the sofa as she bounced on my lap.
Fully erect once more, Zach clambered onto the settee, crouching so he could offer his length to me. I sucked at him and then let Michelle have a go, her grunts synchronised with the slap of her flesh against my thighs.
Eventually, when I came for the second time I was standing, Michelle and Zach kneeling as they looked up at me, the somewhat watery squirts splashing over their faces, my second climax less vehement than the first.
Then they kissed, swapping cum, Zach’s erection completely revived. After that it was Michelle and I doing the business on him, with Zach robustly fucking Michelle to another noisy climax. When he eased out, his cock coated with gloop, I went down there and sucked him clean, my own ardour rejuvenated.
In this way we kept on at Michelle until midnight. One or the other entertained the lady with our cocks and fingers and tongues. Occasionally we sucked each other, Michelle joining in with enthusiasm.
Finally, upstairs in Michelle’s bedroom, she a bedraggled mess, stockings torn and her hair a rat’s nest, Michelle lay back and gasped, “Thank you, boys … That was fucking gorgeous. What a night! What a Valentine’s day to remember.”
“Can we do it again another time?” I asked, eyeing Zach carefully.
The man chuckled and grinned. “I reckon we could,” he said, pouting the question to Michelle. “What do you reckon, ‘Chelle?”
Michelle nodded with some enthusiasm. “God yes,” she gasped, eyes going from Zach to me and back again. Her head bobbed again. “Yes please…”
<i>A conversation between Alan and Zach</i>
Michelle is in the ensuite. I can hear her steady stream splashing into the toilet. Then there’s a flush followed by more running water, from the tap this time as she washes her hands. She appears in the doorway and smiles, completely bare now she’s removed her ruined stockings and bra.
“I’ll get the drinks?” she suggests, grinning at us.
“Can you bring some of the pizza up too, luv?” asks Zach. “I’m fuckin’ starved.”
Michelle throws me a look. “You too, Alan?”
Pizza sounds good to me. It’s been an energetic evening and I don’t know how much energy I’ve burned shagging Michelle.
I nod and Michelle departs, her absence leaving the elephant in the room. Suddenly, alone with Zach, I feel awkward. Despite the physical intimacies we’ve shared it’s odd with just him there with me.
“Well,” the man says eventually. “What do you reckon?”
I’m sitting in the tub chair near the window, curtains drawn against the world outside. The bedside lamp emits a soft, buttery glow, benign and friendly regardless of the disquiet I feel. Zach is on the bed, lounging nude, comfortable and confident.
I shrug and, avoiding his direct gaze, mumble, “About what?”
“Tonight … Sucking my cock ... Michelle. All of it.”
The answer is, I don’t really know. I haven’t had time to analyse my feelings. In the heat of it I was fine, but now it’s over, well, I’m simply not sure.
“I dunno,” I say, still avoiding Zach’s eyes.
“It’s funny,” Zach was saying. “But I’m not interested in sucking a bloke’s cock unless there’s a woman involved.”
What he says filters through. It makes sense, so I look at him.
Zach nods. “Yeah, I dunno why, but unless there’s a lady there too, I don’t feel a thing.” He grins at me and winks, the gesture warming my cheeks. “But with a sexy sort like ‘Chelle…
“Well, mate, you know what I’m on about, don’t you? I can suck your dick and pass it to her, no bother.” A laugh blurts from him. “But you know that, eh, Alan? After all, you did it too, didn’t you? You got into it enough to spunk on my face.”
A tingle of further arousal makes my cock twitch when he says it.
“I … I get that,” I say. “I think I’m the same.” I pause and pull a face, adding, “Although I haven’t had much time to think about it. But I don’t <i>think</i> I’d be as keen if Michelle wasn’t around.”
Zach nods quickly. He sits upright, pouting. “Oh yeah,” he says in agreement. “She’s the one that turns me on … Sucking cock and having mine sucked is just a bit of fun – added spice.” Zach smirks and winks again. “And the ladies love it, Alan. I’ve done this loads over the years and I can safely say just about every woman involved in it has gone bonkers. They love it, mate … It gets them all worked up. Did you see how fuckin’ wet ‘Chelle got? Her cunt was pissing juice…”
I gulp, swallowing heavily, arousal stiffening my cock despite my mild disapproval at the man’s lewd and somewhat disrespectful delivery.
“They fuckin’ love it, mate,” he repeats.
I’m timid when I ask, “Wuh-when do you think we can duh-do it again?”
He looks at me as though studying my motives. “You wanna?” Zach asks. His eyes narrow and he adds a suspicious, “Or would you prefer it if I weren’t here? You’re not trying to steal my lady, are you, Alan?”
Fear twists in my guts. “Nuh-no,” I say in an outright lie. There’s nothing more I want than to have Michelle for myself. Exclusivity would be perfect, but if I can only have her as part of a three-way deal, I’ll take it.
Zach guffaws, a real belly laugh that has me gawping and wondering what’s so funny.
“I’m k**ding, mate,” he says, waving a hand in an airy gesture. “You want to do it again?”
I nod, which makes Zach do the same.
“Sure,” he shrugs. “I’m up for it.” Then his eyes narrow as he looks at me. “But I’m thinking you wouldn’t mind a bit of her on your own … Just the two of youz, yeah?”
I gulp at the man’s prescience. There’s more to him than meets the eye. The northern accent might seem gormless to my southern ears, but it’s apparent Zach is pretty sharp.
“If she wants a fuck every now and then,” Zach says, his words sending a ripple of desire through me. “I don’t mind.” He grins and adds, “You can fuck her alone if you want – if she’s up for it; just as long as I get to shag her as well. I reckon I can live with you fucking Michelle. And the three of us can have a good time too, eh?” His expression is abruptly feral when he hits me with one more surprise. “I know a couple of dirty birds, Alan. Maybe I should introduce ‘em to ‘Chelle – what do you reckon? Sound good to you, mate? I tell you, they’re a right dirty pair. Lovely looking, too. How does that sound? Me, you, and three fit women? A nice little orgy where anything goes…”
I don’t get time to reply because Michelle appears with drinks and pizza, but it’s something I’d like to explore.
Okay, so, how did that go? Feedback is appreciated.
Thank you for reading.
Ricky - Cambs, UK. 29th April 2019.