‘I really must thank you again for letting me stay. I’d never have been able to visit this great city otherwise. Exchange rates and accommodation costs kill me when it comes to travelling.’
There was a sincere look about him, and a sparkle in his eyes that Julia found incredibly alluring. She’d invited him to crash on her sofa in a moment of madness, when she’d seen that he was due to visit her city, despite never having actually met him. He’d just been words on a screen, and a picture of a man she’d thought attractive. Now it was the second day of his visit, and all of those fears she’d had after the invitation had evaporated. She had found him to be far more handsome in the flesh, and he’d been nothing but a gentleman as she showed him around town, refusing to let her pay for anything despite him not having much money in the first place.
He’d also not tried anything on with her. She was used to that kind of attention from men, having to turn down unsolicited offers and shrug off inappropriate comments based on her looks. However, here was a guy she’d expected to proposition her, after all their online conversations, showing no apparent interest at all. This puzzled her somewhat, and she found her interest in him growing. He said all the right things, did all the right things, and she’d given off what she thought was a pretty clear signal – so why hadn’t he made a move? She was not used to this kind of situation, and it stung her.
She handed him the pile of bedding he’d folded with great care that morning. He’d already changed into a tight blue t-shirt and pair of pyjama shorts, ready to crash at the end of an evening in which they’d shared a couple of bottles of red wine and opened up about hopes and dreams. She’d loved his candour, but even being as honest as he was and with alcohol coursing through his veins, he still hadn’t shown any inkling of taking advantage of her. She bade him goodnight, lingered for a moment at the doorway to the living room as he made the sofa up and lay down on it, then retreated to her bedroom.
Where she couldn’t sleep.
As well as the alcohol, she felt an intense desire burning within. She lay there, the minutes ticking by, her imagination running wild. She wondered why he apparently didn’t want her, looked at her the way she wanted to be looked at. All kinds of things, reasons. Was he already taken; some secret girl waiting for him back home? Did he not find her attractive? Were girls not his thing? Now that she thought about it, he’d mentioned nothing about his relationship history in the course of their conversations, online or in person.
She felt hot, in the humid summer night, so she got up to get a glass of water. Opening the door to the living room, which she had to pass through to get to the kitchen, she stopped for a moment when she saw he’d kicked off the blankets in the same heat.
And found that he’d also removed his t-shirt and shorts.
She stood there, frozen in place, admiring his naked form. The definition of the muscles of his stomach, toned but not overly prominent; how his chest rose and fell slowly as he breathed deeply; how his shaggy hair fell over his face. How his skin glistened slightly in the gloom and sticky heat; how his lips were pressed softly shut. Thoughts ran wild through her mind, and she found herself uncontrollably sliding a hand under her silk babydoll, pushing it up to grab her left breast and squeezing it hard. Feeling a sharp sensation manifest itself between her legs and stifling a loud gasp. Leaning against the door frame for support and using her other hand to allow a finger to reach into her lace boyshorts and probe the burgeoning wetness that her searing sex was producing.
The desire and alcohol awoke a primal need within her. She’d never wanted anyone like she wanted this stranger lying on her sofa, and she couldn’t stop herself from having him. She tiptoed over to the sofa and knelt down beside him, leaning over to let her lips delicately caress his chest. He stirred, but didn’t wake, instead turning onto his side to face her as she shrunk back, her untypical actions thrilling. His manhood hung flaccid against his thigh, thick and inviting. She reached out and took it between her finger and thumb, lifting it so she could wrap the remaining fingers around it. She gripped it tighter as blood began to flow, and it began to grow hard as she worked it slowly. He groaned but still didn’t wake, so she leant forward and teased the tip of it with her tongue. At this point she didn’t care if he woke up; taking it fully into her mouth, she began to suck.
She laid a hand on his thigh for support. It was then he woke up, wild-eyed in surprise and confusion. He began to get up instinctively, his growing hardness falling from her mouth, but she pushed forcefully down with her hand and looked up into his eyes out of the corners of her own.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked, still groggy. He turned over so that he was lying on his back, but she didn’t stop, taking him back in her mouth. He didn’t seem to complain, either, and she just smiled at him before pausing after a minute or so to climb on top of him and continue from where she left off. She felt him submit to her will, all resistance dissipating. She moaned in approval, taking him deeper into her mouth. He gasped as she did, and felt him reach down and take her head in his hands. She’d always loved that; the feeling of hands running through her hair, but he wasn’t forceful or controlling in doing so like a lot of guys were. He was letting her do her thing, completely under her spell. She was good, and he was letting her know it.
Looking up at the expression on his face it was clear he couldn’t take any more. She didn’t want him to climax just yet, so she stopped and lifted her head. He just stared at her, before reaching down to pull her up. He kissed her long, and with the kind of intense passion she’d been craving, his hands running down her back, taking hold of her hips and then lifting her babydoll up over her head. She sat up on top of him, seeing the unbridled lust on his face as he took in her small but perfectly-formed breasts, her stomach toned by regular running and the prominence of her collarbone and the blonde hair that fell loosely over it. He was staring at her as if she was a goddess, and in that moment she felt as empowered as one.
He pulled at her shorts, dying to get to what he knew was waiting beneath. Indulging him, she stood up and removed them slowly and purposefully, before straddling him once again. She positioned herself so that she could tease his pulsating erection, which she did by grinding down on him, her wetness sliding effortlessly up and down his shaft and betraying her arousal. He reached up and cupped her left breast, squeezing hard, and then pinched her swollen nipple causing her to shudder and give a little yelp. She looked at him with a fire in her eyes and a mischievous smile, then returned the favour. He took hold of her sides and tried to flip her over, but she resisted; she wanted complete control, and she would have it. Again he submitted, but she could see that he just wasn’t used to being dominated in such a way. It just aroused her even more.
She reached down and grabbed his throbbing member tightly, feeling him clench the muscle uncontrollably under her forceful touch. She guided the tip to the entrance to her moistened welcome, but instead of guiding it inside she used it to tease her enlarged clit, stroking it slowly at first before speeding up rapidly. He was her tool, and she would use it as she wanted. She threw her head back as the pleasure coursed through her whole body, oblivious in that moment to his groaning and gasping. She worked herself hard, each pulse bringing her closer to release, each moan louder than the last.
Before she could climax she thrust him deep inside her, the tight walls of her embrace pushing down on him and trapping him in her carnal desire. She could feel the heat of his manhood surging, and she leaned back so he was at maximum depth. He was hypnotised and rendered helpless by her rhythmic grinding, while she reached down and began rubbing her clit as her free hand reached behind, pressing down on his thigh to support herself. She rode him faster and faster, barely stopping for breath when he slipped out of her, shoving him back inside without breaking stride. Sweat glistened both on his chest and hers as time became irrelevant as it passed and the pleasure intensified. His nails dug into her sides and hers into his thigh, his raging hardness throbbed and she grew even tighter around him, coming once, twice; each time more thunderous than the last.
He seemed to last an age, something she was in awe of, before increased groaning told her that he was about to come. She rode him as hard as she could now, and as he pulsated more and more inside her she felt herself grow close again, but different. She pushed down and leant back as much as she could, and as he gripped her hips to brace himself she let go, clenching tightly as the orgasm thundered throughout her body, sending him over the edge. He erupted deep into her, hot and sticky and satisfying. She gasped in ecstatic physical relief, before the exertion took its toll on them both and she collapsed on top of him, her head resting on his chest, unmoved.
Minutes passed, wordless; the only sound their heavy breathing, before she climbed off him and stood up. She picked up her babydoll and shorts from the floor, the mixture of his seed and her juices dripping down the insides of her thighs. She wasn’t concerned. She leaned over and kissed his lips delicately.
‘See you in the morning,’ she said with a wink, before turning round and striding back to her bedroom , knowing full well that he was watching her go, watching the sway of her confident hips and shapely rear.
She forgot all about the glass of water.