Likes It DoggyStyle:>EP1
It was a normal day in June and I was doing normal day kind of things; a run to the shops, batting around with the duster and hoover, playing with the cat and putting some delicates in the washing machine. It was all trivial stuff to get out of the way before I had to do some serious work for a series of magazine articles I had been writing. I was enjoying the job, the subject was my specialist one after all; sex and what motivates men and women in bed (or out of it!). During the week I had interviewed an up and coming US movie star, in Britain to promote a new film, about what turned him on. We had a few drinks back at his hotel, we traded smutty talk in the bar and he offered to ‘show’ me what he liked. One thing led to another until we wound up naked together in the jacuzzi in his suite.
Hell, it’s a dirty job…!
There was still a shit-eating smile on my face three days later. It would be another week before Josh got back from his book tour in the States but I figured I could survive until then. I was still so raw and stretched down below that I could not even wear panties. My heart was not the only thing Mr. Hollywood had left throbbing. Let’s put it this way, he certainly did not get the nickname Donkey Boy because he likes to clown around on set!
I was about to go back up and get on with my article when I realised that the washing machine was busted. No lights, no water, not a hint of action. Damn it!
A quick rummage through the local paper rustled up the telephone number for a repair company in the village. I dialled it and got through to a gruff sounding woman who grilled me about the problem for about ten minutes then said that she would send someone over in an hour. With a sigh, I contemplated rinsing my frillies out by hand, then made a cup of coffee and settled down to work instead.
As usual, the time ran away with me as I was tapping the keys, a smile pulling at my lips as I recalled the fun I’d had on Tuesday afternoon. Of course I couldn’t write about us having sex but I’d learned enough about his motivation to write a pretty raunchy piece in any case. The names could be changed to protect the innocent not that he was innocent. Not a bit of it!
When the doorbell chimed I powered down, still feeling a little turned on and trotted down the hall to see who was there. To my surprise it was little Danny Bryant on my doorstep, in tight, dark blue jeans and a snug black t-shirt, hefting a vast toolbox except he was not so little any more. In fact, from the bulge of his denim crotch, he was quite a man.
“Good grief!” I exclaimed as I let him in. “Look at you. You can’t have been more than seven years old last time I saw you and now you’re all grown up!”
He managed an indulgent smile and ran a hand through his floppy, dark blond hair.
“Left school three years ago,” he said with a shrug. “Work for me step dad now. Your machine’s knac… umm. busted?”
“Yeah… come on through and have a look. It’s plugged in and switched on but it’s just not doing anything at all.”
He moved past me, up the hall into the little kitchen that we had recently renovated, before Josh went to America. I made him a cup of coffee as he wriggled the machine out of its niche and flipped open his toolbox. As he prised off the lid I watched him work, appreciating the flatness of his stomach and the sexy lines of his lean thighs and arse. His fringe flopped over his forehead every so often and he would stop and push it back, or let his lower lip jut out sexily so that he could blow the stray hair out of his eyes. I heaved myself up onto the counter and sipped my coffee as he unscrewed things and tinkered with the washer.
“So you’re what… eighteen now?”
“Nineteen, last week,” Danny said without looking up.
“I bet you don’t remember me, do you? I used to go to school with your mum’s sister, Eileen. We were all great friends when we were kids.”
“Aunty Eileen’s got three kids of her own now,” the lad straightened and rubbed the side of his nose with one finger. It left a greasy streak that I itched to wipe off for him.
“Yeah… I know.”
“You got kids?” he looked sidelong at me as he began to wedge the lid back on the machine. His eyes were pale blue like Ceylon sapphires in a sharp, sun-browned face. There was just a hint of stubble across his cheeks and angular jawbone.
I shook my head quickly. “Never really wanted them. Are you finished already?”
He walked the Zanussi back into it’s space and flipped the switch on the plug socket. All the display lights flashed at once like Blackpool seafront in October, then settled into the familiar routine. I heard the shushing of water as it began to fill.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.
“Just blown a fuse,” Danny said matter-of-factly. He stood straight again, wiping his hands down the legs of his tight jeans. “I remember you all right.”
Those blue eyes twinkled slightly. I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah… when I was about thirteen… fourteen, me and my mates used to hang about outside the shop on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school ’cause you went for your run then. I remember you always had these little strappy tops on and tight leggings. We used to reckon that you never wore knickers.” He looked away, blushing slightly.
“You did, did you?” I wriggled off the counter with a smile and dumped my coffee mug in the sink, wondering if Danny was maybe up for helping with my research. “Did you like that, the idea that I might not have knickers on?”
He did not answer right away, just said; “Well… all done. Do I get my reward now?”
“What do I owe you?” I wriggled a hand into the pocket of my jeans but he shook his head at once. One of his hands rested on my forearm briefly. He was close enough that I could feel his breath on my neck and face.
“Those leggings were so tight we could see the shape of your pussy,” he said with a look that suggested he was daring himself to go on. “I used to fantasise about you in your running gear. I used to lie on my bed and wank myself off thinking about the way your tits bounced up and down when you ran.” He was looking me in the eye again now, a sharper, more venal expression on his sharp-featured face. His nose was long and pointed and the lips that framed his words were as full as a girl’s, though there was nothing effeminate about him. I wondered how his mouth would feel between my legs; imagined his tongue exploring every crevice of my hidden valley.
“I don’t want any money,” he told me suddenly, his voice shaking slightly. His gaze had dropped from my eyes to about the level of my breasts. I was wearing a small, figure-hugging white top with ribbon straps and there was no disguising how hard my nipples were. They pushed against the lycra material like small stones.
“What ‘do’ you want?” I exhaled, more steadily, hoping I already knew.
“I want you to take your top off,” Danny said huskily. “I want to look at your tits.”
I quivered with pleasure at his request and withdrew the hand from my pocket, crossing my arms over my belly, glad that I was still in good physical shape as I took hold of the hem of my top and pulled it slowly upward. My arms rose, uncovering my breasts and peeling off the small, flimsy garment in one fluid motion. Unembarrassed, I dropped it onto the counter and stood before him, topless. I know that my breasts are in good shape. Josh loves to feel and suck them. He has big hands and they’re just large enough to overflow when he stands behind me, cupping and squeezing them.
“Do you just want to look, or would you like to feel them as well?” I asked.
Danny pushed a hand into the front of his pants, adjusting himself with a little grunt of disbelief. Then his warm fingers were curling around the swell of my bosom, rubbing and feeling me hungrily. He pushed me back against the base units and bent his head over my big boobs, kissing the upper curves as he massaged and fondled them with his dirty hands. I uttered a little sigh of satisfaction as he groped me, pushing his lean young body into my curves, getting me sweaty and greasy. I did not care. His warm, soft mouth closed around the stiffness of my left nipple and he began to suckle like a greedy pup as his left hand circled on my right breast.
I shuddered with satisfaction, snaking my arms around him as his mouth roamed from one nipple to the other, licking and kissing my heaving breasts, sucking on the points until they were hard and sore, glistening rosy pink on the pale swell of my tits. His lips wandered to my neck and throat briefly, sending ripples of pleasure through my chest and belly then he was kissing my mouth, his tongue darting between my teeth like a serpent as his hands groped down the curve of my bared waist. I felt one hot hand in the small of my back, then the other glided down the flat of my abdomen into the front of my jeans.
“Dirty bitch,” he whispered hoarsely into my mouth as his fingers stroked my shaved mound and wormed still further, between my legs. “Who’s forgotten to put her knickers on, then?”
“Do you like that?” I gasped, squirming as he forced his hand deeper, his greasy fingers exploring the wetness of my pussy lips. Little shivers of excitement coursed through my body from my cunt as he groped me firmly there.
“I think you like it more,” Danny panted. He pulled his hand out of my pants and licked his fingers. “Horny slut. Unfasten your jeans and push them down for me. Show me your cunt.”