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Author’s note: This is the conclusion of a novella called “Friday Night Alchemy”, minus the hundred pages of build-up.
Alone at last with Shana all to myself I was at a loss for words. While she went into the bathroom, I put on the kettle and wondered how I might broach the subject of sex. We both knew it was imminent and inevitable but I couldn’t just say “Right then. Get your kit off.” These things aren’t done like that. I need not have fretted, Shana had everything under control.
“Coffee?” I asked as I heard her come into the kitchen behind me.
“Not just now thanks.” her hand fell like a feather on my forearm. I turned in response to her touch and was lost. She pinned me against the worktop, her mouth grinding against mine, her hands seemingly touching me everywhere at once. Had I any will to resist her, it would have failed me in this first onslaught. As it was, I offered no resistance, capitulating wholeheartedly and matching her ferocious pace measure for measure. She pressed herself against me with such force, such persistence, she might well have succeeded in impaling herself upon me through two pairs of jeans had not the ghost of Alexander Graham Bell interceded.
“Bloody Hell!” I stopped kissing her, reflecting on how fate was conspiring to keep me celibate even at this eleventh hour.
The phone rang a second time.
“Ignore it.” Shana stopped her assault long enough to speak two words, then continued kissing my neck with renewed fervour.
It rang a third time. The answerphone should kick in now!
A fourth ring. Damn! Damn! Damn! The bloody answerphone was switched off. I tried to push Shana away.
“Don’t answer it!” There was pleading in her voice.
“Sorry Darling, I must.” I made it to the phone before the sixth ring.
“Hello Son. You’re in? I was just going to leave a message.”
“Hi Mum,” I identified the caller for Shana’s benefit. She was standing in the doorway listening to half a conversation. “What was the message you were going to leave?”
“You’re an uncle! Megan had a baby girl this evening. Six-and-a-half pounds. Thomas says they’re calling her Seren.”
“Well congratulations on being a granny at last. Can we talk tomorrow? I have a guest here at the moment.”
“Oh? Anyone I know?”
“No Mum. No one you know.” I was a little more abrupt than I intended. I hoped Mum wouldn’t take umbrage, just the hint.
“All right. Sorry if I disturbed you, but we’re so excited. I’ll speak to you tomorrow then.” she seemed to have got the message.
“That’s quite all right. I’m excited too. Goodnight Mum.”
I hung up and looked at Shana in the doorway.
“I’m an Uncle.” I passed on the news just to have something to say. It filled the awkward silence.
Shana was smiling. She walked over to the answerphone and turned it on then, picking up the receiver, she turned off the ringer. That done she faced me, still smiling.
“No more interruptions.”
She reached for my shirt buttons, systematically undoing them.
Following Shana’s lead I took hold of the hem of her sweater. We almost tied knots in our arms trying to undress each other until Shana stepped back slightly and peeled the sweater over her head then, eyes fixed on mine, proceeded to unbutton her jeans. My actions mirrored hers until we were both down to our underwear. She was perfect, flawless. I closed the gap between us, picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom.
Safe sex? I’m afraid not. Unless you count the precautions Shana had taken against telephonic distractions. Coitus uninterruptus you might say.
We were both so keyed up that our first bout was inevitably bursa escort brief with little need for foreplay since Shana was already completely receptive and I was at bursting point. We reached climax together, or near as makes no odds (I suspect I won by a head), Shana nearly taking a chunk out of my shoulder with her teeth in the process.
A cynic might suggest she faked her orgasm out of consideration for my fragile male ego; so I wouldn’t feel bad about being premature. The cynic would be wrong. While I agree Shana is considerate enough to care about my ego, she has better ways of boosting it than faking orgasms.
Having collapsed exhausted we lay in a mutual embrace and caught our breath. It took some time before either of us was ready to do more than just lie there enjoying the warmth and proximity of each other.
“I love you.” Shana’s voice was so soft she might easily have been talking in her sleep except that she was looking at me, her eyes echoing her affirmation. I said nothing because there was nothing I could say that she did not already know: Words are only the beginning of communication. Instead, I kissed her softly, slowly, pouring everything I felt into a single, simple gesture.
We ‘wasted’ hours exploring each other’s bodies, charting our erogenous zones and discovering what felt good and what felt even better. Eyes, lips and hands roamed unrestrained as we touched, tasted, kissed and caressed.
After the frenzy of our first coupling, we paced ourselves. Our lovemaking became an unhurried voyage of discovery. By turns we were variously submissive and dominant, passive and proactive, gentle and forceful. When our exertions tired us, we slept briefly, our limbs entwined, waking refreshed and ready for more.
At some early hour, all passion spent, we finally succumbed to sleep, nestling together as we had last night with my shoulder as her pillow and my hand cupping her breast.
Waking up next to Shana for the third time, I thought ‘I could get used to this’. In the dim light filtering through the curtains, her breast rose and fell in time with her soft breathing. On a whim I leant forward, drawing her nipple between my lips and flicking it with the tip of my tongue. I took a childish delight in the way it grew and hardened as I played.
“Mmm.” Shana, still asleep, nevertheless responded to the stimulation. Wondering how far I could go without waking her, I let my hand creep down over her abdomen to stroke the sensitive tops of her thighs and tease out the tight curls of her pubis. She stirred, parting her legs slightly to accommodate my hand. As she grew restless, I eased off, returning my attention to her breasts.
“Don’t stop.” Shana was awake after all. My retreating fingers returned to their ministrations, emboldened by her words.
I stopped toying with her nipple long enough to kiss her.
“Morning Darling. Sleep well?”
“Mmm. Like a log.” and she rolled over, straddling me.
“Open the curtains, I want to see you properly.”
Shana clambered out of bed and crossed to the window to do my bidding. Rain ran down the glass against a monochrome backdrop of clouds and more clouds. In front of this miserable April scene Shana turned slowly, full circle, with her hands spread wide. Transfixed, I watched my lover. Although I had made a meticulous examination of every square inch of her body last night, this was the first time I had seen her naked all at once. Unfazed by my scrutiny, she indulged my voyeuristic whim, moving from pose to pose as if modeling the Emperor’s new clothes.
“Well Sir?” She put on her best shop assistant voice as if she had just modeled a dress I was considering buying for my wife.
“Perfect.” bursa escort bayan It was an understatement. Her figure was flawless and she seemed totally comfortable with her nudity. She was slender and small breasted, just barely a B cup. Despite a seemingly endless pair of legs, she wasn’t tall enough to be a model thus depriving the world of a true beauty. Their loss was my gain. I beckoned for her to come to me.
She came as far as the foot of the bed then knelt on it and crawled toward me on her hands and knees until she had forced me to lie back on the pillow and was looking down into my eyes. There was something feline, even feral, in the expression she wore: a very particular kind of hunger. I was going to enjoy being on the menu.
I was getting used to just how forceful Shana could be so I was ready when she kissed me as though trying to extract my fillings with her tongue.
“Is there anything else Sir would like?” Her professional voice again. “A shave perhaps?”
I felt my chin. She was right: I had some serious stubble. But I also had other priorities.
“Later perhaps, but could you do something about that first?” I indicated my erection.
Shana cocked her head to one side, appraising my stature.
“I think I can find something in your size Sir. If you’d just like to hold still…” She straddled me again, settling her weight on my hips. “…There! How does that feel Sir? Not too tight?” Still in her shop girl persona, she looked quizzically down at me. Her hands had come to rest on my chest and she was circling my nipples with her fingernails while I responded.
“That feels fine. I do prefer a snug fit as long as it doesn’t restrict movement.” I played my part as the customer. This game was fun!
Shana began to rock back and forward. “It doesn’t appear too restrictive.” she stepped up the pace, starting to post. At this rate, I wouldn’t last long.
“I’ll take it. May I leave a deposit?” I tried to stay in character, to see the game through to its conclusion.
“Certainly Sir.” Shana looked flushed but nowhere near her own climax. This would be a strictly one way exchange. It couldn’t be helped. I would just have to make it up to her afterwards.
My back arched as I came, almost dislodging Shana as I bucked under her. Sagging back onto the bed, feeling myself soften inside her, I soundlessly mouthed the words “I love you.” She lent down to kiss me, dislodging me somewhere along the way.
“I’ve lost you.”
“You couldn’t lose me if you tried. I’ll follow you around like a stray puppy until you take me home. But now my love, its your turn.” I tried to roll her off me, onto her back, but she had other plans.
“Not until you’ve had a shave and I think we could both use a bath after last night. Will we both fit in your tub?” Shana was full of brilliant ideas.
“It’ll be a bit of a squeeze but I think so.” I was eager to try.
“Come on then. I’ll shave you while the bath is running.”
So I found myself perched, bollock naked, on the edge of the laundry basket while Shana lathered my face and went to work with my razor. She worked slowly and with great care, so as not to cut me, pausing half way to turn off the taps before the tub overfilled. She made small talk. Why do barbers always do that?
“You know Lover, this is the second Sunday in a row I’ve missed Mass because of you. You’re a bad influence.”
“God’s probably glad of the peace and quiet. You were yelling at him half the night.”
“I wasn’t! Was I?”
“Girl, there were times it sounded like a menage a troi; you, me and the almighty. I wouldn’t have minded but I was doing the work and he was getting all the credit.”
“But escort bursa you were wonderful too Lover. It just wouldn’t have been the same without you there.”
I burst out laughing, an unwise action when someone is shaving under your chin. Fortunately, it was a safety razor so I was only nicked: a straight razor would have cut my throat. Shana clucked a little over it but a splash of aftershave later I convinced her no harm had been done. She’d just about finished anyway, so I rinsed my face and we got into the bath together.
Two people in one bath is like a quart in a pint pot: not easy. It was a bloody good job we were well acquainted.
It was alright to just lie there soaking in hot water and Radox with Shana reclining against me but we couldn’t move enough to actually wash. When the water got too cool for her, Shana pulled the plug with her toe and stood up to turn on the shower. Standing in the rapidly receding tide of lukewarm bath water, we washed each other under the near scalding torrent of the power-shower. The expense of buying it, the hassle of plumbing it in and the additional cost of hiring a plumber to fix my botched handiwork all seemed worthwhile.
“They must be clean by now.” Shana gently hinted. She was holding her hair up out of the way while I soaped her breasts and, since I had been rather a long time completing this task, her arms were getting tired. I can take a hint: I stopped.
I left Shana to wash her hair (since it was already wet, it may as well be clean too) and got out to dry off. I was prevailed upon to fetch some shampoo and conditioner from Shana’s bag then I sat on the edge of the tub and watched her.
Shana was making quite a voyeur of me, a perversion she actively encouraged. First the show, then her relaxed attitude to Kat’s somewhat physical flirtations, now this: she really was something special.
When she’d done, I wrapped her in a big fluffy towel and a pair of arms and kissed her.
“Thank you Lover. Is there another towel for my hair?”
“Voila!” I’d predicted her request and had a second towel ready. She wrapped her wet hair in a turban and sent me to make coffee while she dried herself. I would have been happy to dry her off but there are times when a girl needs the bathroom to herself, so I left her to it.
While I was making coffee and pre-heating the oven for the croissants, the toilet flushed. Like I said, sometimes a girl needs the bathroom to herself.
She eventually vacated the bathroom and relocated herself on the foot of the bed. A coffee cup in each hand, I went to join her. The croissants wouldn’t be ready for another fifteen minutes.
“Avante!” Shana answered my knock on the bedroom door. I remembered the film of that name, starring Jack Lemmon. It’s Italian for ‘enter’. I entered.
I entered and nearly dropped the coffee. Shana was just bending down to plug in a hair-dryer. She was upright again almost immediately but so was I, in a manner of speaking. By the time I’d deposited the coffee cups on the windowsill, Shana was sat on a towel on the bed, preparing to blow-dry her hair. I knelt at her feet, placing my hands on her knees and gently urging them apart. Shana didn’t resist, she just tossed the hair-dryer to one side and lay back; It was time to pay her back.
An au pair I used to date, many moons ago, once described good oral technique as being like trying to lick honey off a butterfly’s wings. With this foremost in my mind, I applied myself to the task of pleasing Shana. And Shana was pleased, and pleased again, and as she approached a third climax I kept her on the brink until she begged, finally moving onto the bed with her and making love to her in a more conventional, mutually gratifying manner.
“Mmm, that was wonderful Lover.” Shana whispered, snuggling up close, her still damp hair pleasantly cool against my skin. I hugged her closer and all was right with the world.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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