A fellow Commonwealthite wrote me something really sweet - OK it's actually quite nasty but it was the thought that counts right? He's such a talented writer - I couldn't help but share this (he has also posted it to an unpublished blog site, at the above link). Hope you enjoy it!She’d been delayed two hours in the transfer between London and Newcastle International – a provincial airport with big ideas. He hung about waiting, chewing his lip and wondering if this was such a good idea. Writing on the Internet was one thing, offering to host a perfect stranger might turn out to be another.
The tannoy crackled with the last call for a flight to Barcelona. He looked at his watch, and tried to ignore the tightening sensations in his gut. Then they were there, people streaming out of the baggage hall. They had to be from the London flight - her flight. He glanced at the picture, the shock of auburn hair, slightly turned up nose, the sensational lips and slid it back into his pocket. He didn’t need to look at it. He knew what she looked like, knew more about her than any stranger he’d ever met. He resisted the urge to turn and disappear with the crowds. That would be too cruel and cowardly to boot.
And then she was there, a bag slung over one shoulder on a long strap, and another dragging behind on small wheels. The feeling left him and he waved. She returned the gesture, and he stepped forward to meet her, infinitely relieved that they were communicating in person and it was ok .
‘Hi Fred,’ she said offering him her cheek.
He kissed it, inhaling her perfume and feeling the thick hair brush his face. ‘How was the flight?
You look great.’
‘Liar’, she said. I must look like shit.
He laughed and shook his head.
‘No at all, but let’s get out of here – BC’s a long way. You’ll need to stretch your legs.’
‘Something like that,’ she said. I need a drink, and a bath, and a long slow - holiday.’ She made an impish face.
He remembered the filthy emails that they’d sent each other, and laughed. That ‘long slow’ thing was a code between them. He took the wheeled bag and gestured her forward. ‘The car’s outside – come on.’
On the drive, they talked about the reason she’d come, the conference on city planning she was speaking at – disaster management she told him, and he thought of New Orleans and hurricanes. Not much call for hurricane planning here, but there’d be other stuff no doubt, terrorism maybe.
As he drove, the scent of her made him go hard, it was weird, but she had a kind of presence, sitting there. He took in her Canadian accent as she talked, and then her again, warm and soft and horny. He knew she was horny, knew from the emails and from the little vibes, the glances she gave him. He wondered why he’d had that urge to run at the barrier – she was gorgeous.
It was a fifteen minute drive, an advantage of living in a provincial city. Not like London where it might have been a ninety minute struggle through the traffic. They pulled up and she slid out of the car, brushing her hair aside and looking at the house.
‘Nice’, she said, smiling. Very – Edwardian?’
‘It's Edwardian, but only just - built about nineteen fourteen,' he said.
He opened the gate and they walked up the garden path.
Inside, he poured drinks – whiskey and water, and they lounged in chairs by the open french window, the curtains moving slightly in the breeze that brought in the heavy scent of Jasmine.
‘Can I get you some dinner?’ he asked, ‘Maybe you’re hungry?’
‘I ate on the plane – some kind of horrible cutlet.’
‘You’re sure, I could send out for something – Chinese? A curry? Italian?’
‘No – really. A shower – maybe a bath, and I’ll be fine. It’s good of you to put me up. It’s a nice place.’
He stood up and moved for the door. ‘I’ll take your stuff upstairs – show you your room.’
He walked down the stairs and imagined her stripping in his guest bedroom, pictured her voluptuous, naked, stepping into the bath, sliding down into warm water and that he was soaping her, stroking a slippery bar over those beautiful breasts and wiping bubbles over them with his hands, faltering over hard nipples and teasing them, circling the brown sensitive skin with a finger. He imagined stooping and licking them, sucking the nipples into his mouth and teasing her with his teeth. He shook his head, banishing the lustful thoughts. Disgraceful – she’d hate it if she knew he was imagining that. He poured a soft drink and walked into the garden, trying not to stray back to that fantasy, but soon he did, and was soaping her most private parts, sensing her willingly part her thighs so he could go deeper - invade her with his fingers. He was hard and damp. He shut it off again went over to the exercise machine and did pull ups on the bar - twenty, all the way up to his chin. He was hot and panting now. It helped.
She came down dressed in jeans and a loose shirt. It was unbuttoned at the neck, somehow dawing his eyes to her breasts as she came to sit beside him on the sofa. He got up.
‘What would you like to drink Susan?’ he said.
‘Another Whiskey maybe?’
‘I know – have you had sloe gin?’ he said, grinning. ‘It’s a killer.’
‘I don’t think so, but I’m game.’
‘You are? That’s good babe,’ he said moving for the drinks.’
‘This is starting to run like those depraved sex stories you sent me by email,’ she joked.
He laughed, pouring the dark sweet fluid. ‘Yeah – I know – don’t tell me. You hated every one of them.’
‘I did so,’ she purred.
He handed her the glass. ‘That’s why you asked if I knew anyone who could put you up here during the conference.’
‘Yeah – knew you were all talk.’
He grinned and toasted her.
‘Touche.’
She returned the gesture and sipped.
‘Wow – that’s nice.
‘I know. Only discovered it recently. Don't be fooled, it kicks like a cow.’
'I'd have said horse, but thanks for the warning.'
He laughed and sat beside her.
‘I knew we’d get on.’ he said.
‘How?’
‘Don’t know really – we just had some connection. I thought it would work in reality as well as across the ether.’
‘That’s a funny word – ether.' She mocked his accent.
‘Ethur,’ he said, mocking hers. 'I mean across the Internet.' She leaned forward and kissed him. He laughed and kissed her back. Then he pulled away to put down the glass. ‘You know – you’re really beautiful. The pictures didn't do you justice.’
‘I know, and you’re really lucky.’
She slid down on the settee as he moved to kiss her.
‘Lucky as a dog with two pricks,’ he said.
‘Only two?’
He kissed her mouth hungrily and felt her respond, heaving her breasts towards him as his tongue flicked over her lips and teased her before he moved back and opened her blouse.
‘God – you’re wonderful,‘ he gasped, running his hands over her.
She gripped his sides and pulled him to her.
‘Wanna fuck me big boy?’
‘What do you think?’
‘I think you do. I think you do a lot.’
He kissed her softly on the mouth, then looked into her eyes. ‘Know what? You’re right.’ He kissed her again and stood up, taking her by the hand. ‘Let’s go upstairs.’
She stood loosened her jeans and wiggled out of them.
‘Why?’ she said. ‘You Brits are so conventional. You can fuck me right here. I’ve come along way today - and Mister – I’m not moving another step.’
He laughed and stroked her silk underwear. She was warm and powerful, not skinny, not one of those puny, ‘I don’t eat that,’ types - more than wonderful, she was the hot blooded, grab life with both hands and gorge on it kind of woman, and he wanted her like he’d wanted nothing in years. They kissed, hard and passionate and their hands roamed over the other’s body. He stepped back and ripped his shirt off. She came after him as he undressed and sucked on his naked skin, making him stumble, pants around his ankles. Then she had her hands on his dick and he clasped her, him naked, her still in underwear. He struggled with the catch at the back of her brassier, making her laugh at his ineptitude. All men fumbled that, he thought and then she helped him out, releasing magnificent breasts so that his heart raced at the sight of them and instead of speaking, he told her how much he admired them by covering them with his kisses.
She walked backwards leading him to the couch and she slumped down on it, wrapping him in her thighs as he followed her to the leather cushions. He kneaded her breasts with both hands, pressing his dick up against her crotch - only her silk knickers keeping them apart. He licked her ear lobes, her lips, her breasts in a frenzy of delight, hardly knowing what to taste next, and then everything became clear to him, and he knew what he should taste - taste long and slow - taste until she came and drenched him in her juices. He tried to speak, but there were no words, just an animal sound, and he grasped the silk and pulled her pants down, kissing her belly, moving slowly as he stroked one breast and a thigh, his face sliding over her so that his lips trailed down and skirted around to find that wonderful spot where her thigh merged into her body. He licked her there listening to her groans. He knew what she wanted, and slid his hand into the glorious opening and stroked the honeyed flesh around it. Round and around his fingers went, flicking just inside and then over the throbbing centre of her pleasure. She squirmed and clenched her fist in his hair, panting as his mouth moved nearer and he began to lick her where he knew she wanted it, tasting, gently at first, then more urgently as he slid fingers inside her and moved them tenderly while he pleasured her, sometimes with the tip of his tongue – teasing and gentle, then hard, the whole length of it, roughly licking over the exquisite sensitivity until she squirmed and gasped, thrusting it at him as if she wanted more of his mouth and more of his hand inside her. He worked her - fingers curled inside as he drove her mad, closing his lips on her - sucking - nibbling and licking long and hard, devouring her like she was some exquisite food, sucking up her juices and bearing the twisting of his hair in her fist as she thrust her luscious pussy into his face. She cried out as his teeth sank into her flesh – just enough to drive her into a last spasm of pleasure and then he was up and fucking her for all he was worth.
Exhausted, she reached under her buttocks and felt his balls, holding them gently as they tightened to her touch and began to pump warm fluid into her. He gasped, head exploding and came into her as she seemed to shiver with the joy of it… He sank onto her belly, his head on her breasts, his breath coming in gasps.
‘My God,’ he said. We only met ninety minutes ago.’
She looked at her watch.
‘More like seventy five,’ she said, but I’ve wanted that for a while. Where’s that drink you gave me? What did you say it was called?
‘Sloe gin,’ he said.
‘Slow my ass,’ she answered.
