Sleep well, he’d said.  Right, how could she do that, Sharon wondered?  She tossed and turned in her bed; the sofa fold-out wasn’t the most comfortable on the best of days and it was even worse tonight!  She kept thinking of the boy, how his feverish heat had filled her mouth and how much she’d been looking forward to having it fill her elsewhere.  She groaned and rolled over despite the dull protest her hip gave her.  She plumped her pillow and lay back upon it, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh.  Her hands moved of their own volition and she let them take her where her imagination lay, dreaming of a warm body beside her and touching her…… just…… like…… this……

Her weekly housework and the Saturday and Sunday hours at the café kept her busy; the weekend passed quickly.  Her hip and back were feeling better when she went back to the club on Monday, ready for another week.  Stage makeup covered the bruise that was turning from purple to a lovely shade of green mixed with yellow. 

Sharon made herself up, then greeted Leonard and William and inquired of their vacation.  They were nice gentlemen, but they had a bit of a rough look about them and she’d originally felt a touch uncomfortable with them.  But their clear lack of interest in her had long ago eased her into an acceptance of them and their idiosyncrasies, and she’d decided they were good fellows in spite of their possibly ...... errrrr...... different lifestyle.  She listened to their enthusiastic story of their trip to Italy to visit old family members and friends they hadn’t seen in years.  She was soon laughing at their outrageous stories of Mafioso and gangsters and she decided that they’d seen far too many movies at the cinema whilst on vacation!

She began her stretches and went through her routines in her head.  Janice settled over her like a familiar coat and she took to the stage with a smile and a wink for her steady customers.

It was during her final act, the seven veils, that she saw him at the back of the club, still and silent as a ghost.  What was John doing here?  She nearly gasped in shock, losing her step and stumbling.  She caught herself quickly and gritted her teeth into a semblance of a smile as she finished the number; Janice had vanished, the traitor!  Sharon escaped the stage and ran to her dressing room to wash and change, anxious to leave the club before he came back here.  The knock on her door rattled her already shot nerves, and she had to take several deep breaths before asking who it was. 

“It’s Toby.”

Thankful, she opened the door to the owner of the club.

“Yes, Toby?”

“You okay, baby?  Ya kinda finished yer last number pretty quick.”

She smiled at him, hoping she could dazzle him enough that he’d forget about it.  “I’m fine, Toby, just fine, thank you.”

He looked at her closely, his blue eyes full of concern, his normally cheerful face solemn.  “You sure, baby?  Ya look like yer ‘bout ready ta cry.”

Her smile faltered and she swallowed with difficulty.  “I’m fine, Toby, seriously, but thank you for asking.  I…… I’m afraid I’d like to get out of here quickly today, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Ya know, Sharon,” he said awkwardly, “we kinda kid around a bit, but I think th’ world of ya, gurl.  If ya ever wanna talk ‘bout anythin’, well, I just ‘ope ya think o’ me as a mate, right?”

He turned abruptly and left, leaving her looking after him in speechless astonishment, tears welling up in her eyes at the unexpected offer of friendship.  She dressed quickly and left the club through the rear door, going through the alley and around the block, taking the long way to work in case John was waiting out front of the club for her.

She realized her error when John walked into the restaurant.  Stupid, stupid, stupid, she cursed herself; he knew exactly where she worked and lived, he could just drop in on her any time, couldn’t he?  And she couldn’t do a thing about the café part of things, but she would certainly not allow him in her flat again!  She went to take his order.

“Why are you here?” she hissed.  “Why were you at the club?”

“Came in fer tea,” he replied with a grin.  “An’ I lost sommat on me guitar t’other day, was just lookin’ fer it.  Ta fer askin’.  What’s th’ special today?”

The nerve of him, the cheeky grin and wink, she thought.  “It’s on the board outside, you can read, can’t you?” she asked snidely, walking away from his table and returning to the kitchen.  To hide, she thought in chagrin.  Maybe he’d leave.

“Miss?  Oh, miss?  I’m ready fer ya ta take me order!”

Damn!  She marched back out, past the counter and to his table.

“You don’t have to shout!  Do you want to get me fired?” she asked angrily.

“Not at all, luv, just wanna be fergiven,” he replied with a light of mischief in his eyes.

“You’re not about to be forgiven like this,” she retorted.

“No?  Guess I’ll have ta try sommat else, then?  Maybe serenade ya outside yer flat, eh?”

“No,” she gasped, horrified.  “My landlord would have kittens!”

“I’m pretty good at it,” he said confidently, taking a deep breath.  “Oh solo mio,” he warbled and she thought she’d never heard such an awful screech!

“Stop it!” she hissed, putting her hands over her ears.  “You’re no singer!”

John started laughing and she was surprised to find herself smiling at him as she lowered her hands.  This was ridiculous!  He was playing the fool to jolly her into laughter, and unfortunately, it was working!

“Well, I made ya smile, anyroad.  Can I please ‘ave th’ special, Sharon?” he asked, still grinning, and she wrote his order on the order pad.

“Tea?” she asked with resignation.

“Yeah, luv.”

She walked away, still smiling, shaking her head.  When she returned with his cuppa, he asked if she could sit and chat for a bit.  She shook her head.

“No, sorry, it’s not allowed.”

“Well, what time d’ya get off work tonight?”

“Why?” she asked baldly.

“’cause I thought I’d be ‘ere ta walk ya ‘ome, luv,” he replied.

“Why?” she asked again.

“Maybe ‘cause I’m gonna walk ya ‘ome ‘til ya fergive me.”

“If I tell you you’re forgiven, will you leave me alone?” she asked hopefully.

He shook his head with a smile.  “Nah, that’ll just encourage me.”

She heard the cook’s hail, went to get his order and brought it back, set it in front of him.

“Let me get this straight, if I don’t forgive you, you’ll hang around club and café, bothering me and possibly serenading me.  If I forgive you, it will just encourage you and you might do something worse.  Have I got that right?”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin.  “That’s about right, luv.  Suit yerself, yer choice.”

“Is there any way I can make you leave me alone?” she asked seriously.

“No,” he replied, just as seriously, looking at her with that deep gaze, his eyes searching her soul, leaving her shaken.

She tried to recover.  “Right, then, I get off work at eight, you can walk me home,” she said brusquely, trying to tell herself that it was all she was agreeing to.  Her treacherous body told her otherwise.

He was waiting for her at eight, and he was soaking wet from the rain.  Again.  She scolded him on the damp bus ride home.

“You’re going to catch your death of cold, you idiot!  What is it with you and rain?  I’d think you a smart enough lad that you’d know to stay out of it!”

He sneezed and excused himself.  “Didn’t ‘ave any money, didn’t figger yer boss would want me in there if I couldn’t pay fer a cuppa,” he replied casually.

“You were just paid last Friday, did you spend it all already?  Itinerant musician,” she commented scathingly and John nodded cheerfully.

“Yeah, I know.  But we’re goin’ places, Sharon, I know it!  We’ve got a gig comin’ up next month in Hamburg, we’ll be gone fer over a month!  We’re gonna be playin’ at a place called th’ Indra Club, sounds grand, doesn’t it?”

Unlocking her door and inviting him in, Sharon thought about the last time he’d been here soaked to the skin.  Her resolve was corroding by the minute, her dreams had simply whetted her appetite and she knew she wanted this young man desperately, despite all that had happened.  It had been a long time since she’d taken a lover, and she resigned herself to it. 

Perhaps once it was over, he’d disappear from her thoughts and dreams.

***

John shed his clothes and pulled on the fluffy pink robe without comment, trying to keep his wayward desires to himself, his memories of the other time he’d been here.  At least he’d got the bird laughing and she’d agreed to let him walk her home.  He couldn’t shake the guilt that he’d hurt her badly, and he still wanted to make amends.  Jollying her until she’d smiled had been a good move, it had got him this far, and p’rhaps he could get her to laugh if he continued to play the fool.  O Solo Mio was definitely not his forte, but he and Paulie had been writing some tunes, just little twiddles, and he was hoping he might be able to try them out on a friendly audience at some point.

As his clothes dried over tea, he told her about the gigs they’d been performing all over the ‘pool, and the excitement of the upcoming gig in Germany.

“I’m a bit worried ‘bout Norman, though, ‘e doesn’t seem ta be fittin’ in very well, not sure ‘e’s gonna stay th’ road, an’ if we don’t ‘ave a drummer fer th’ Kraut gig, we’ll be in trouble,” he fretted.

“Don’t you know any other drummers?” she asked, curled up at the opposite end of the couch. 

John suddenly realized they were prob’ly sitting on her bed, the bedsit didn’t have another room, and the sofa probably folded out to a neat bed.  He had to rein back where those thoughts led, and he tried to remember her question.

“Errrrr, yeah, I know a few,” he answered slowly.  “I’ve kinda been keepin’ an eye on ‘em ta see ‘ow they’re playin’, an’ who they’re playin’ with.”

He knew with whom he’d like to be ‘playing’ right this moment.  The lecherous thought brought him up short.  Jesus, what was going on with him?  He wasn’t a randy lad in short pants, you’d think he’d never had a bird before!  But her close proximity, the faint fragrance of honeysuckle he could smell on her, the memory of the last time he’d been sitting on this sofa and what she’d done to him, well, it was enough to get any red blooded lad hot and bothered!

He covered his anxiety by picking up his cup and having a sip of tea.  He crossed his legs, worried that Sharon might see evidence of his throbber, and he didn’t want her thinking he was expecting anything like what had happened before.  Of course, he wanted it desperately, but he didn’t want her thinking that he was expecting it! 

God, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of it!  Her hot, sweet mouth, the way she’d just gone at it without any hesitation, Jesus, he’d nearly been ready for it the moment it had been over last Friday night!  Cyn hadn’t been accommodating over the weekend; his girlfriend had been on her monthly and he hadn’t gotten any relief from her.  And it was Monday now, three days to the hour, nearly, and that was a hella long time for a hot lad to wait for it!

John swallowed hard, the conversation dying as he looked at her on the other end of the sofa, curled up, her skirt hiked up just a bit so that he could see above her knees, the stockings smooth over her fair skin.  She shifted a bit and he saw a touch of thigh, was that her garter belt?  The tops of her stockings?  Jesus!

“Errrr, ummmm, loo?” he blurted, anxiously wanting to avoid another scene like last time, terrified he’d start something she didn’t want, but suddenly absolutely and completely desperate for relief.

“Errr, it’s the door right there,” Sharon replied, pointing.  “It’s nice having one of these modified bedsits, I prefer not having to share a facility at the end of the hallway.”

John nodded agreement to her statement, but he was sweating, how was he going to get up without her seeing the definite protrusion he was feeling, the one that twitched and throbbed so insistently against him? 

“Errrrr…… ta, would ya mind pourin’ me another cuppa?  I’ll be right back.”

He waited until she turned and lifted the lid on the teapot, then escaped whilst she wasn’t looking.  Shutting the door behind him and locking it, he didn’t know what else to do besides take care of it himself, there was no chance his tumescence would be shrinking a centimeter without it! 

He closed his eyes and stroked himself urgently with one hand, holding the robe collar near his nose with the other, smelling the faint honeysuckle scent that he’d smelt on the bird, fantasizing wildly about what she’d done to him on Friday.  He knew it wasn’t going to take long, he’d had a constant woody for three days!  He had enough forethought to grab a wad of loo fodder before it was over, the tissues keeping the mess to a minimum as the force of it nearly brought him to his knees. 

Legs shaking, knees trembling, breathing heavily, he flushed the soiled tissue down the w.c. and splashed some water on his face.  Once he’d caught his breath, he washed his hands, then dried face and hands on a towel that smelled of her, checked his appearance in the mirror and noticed gratefully that the orgasmic flush on his face had faded.  Satisfied with how he looked, he left the little room and rejoined Sharon on the sofa, smiled his thanks for the tea and picked his cup up, burning his tongue on its contents and swearing.

“Sorry, I got fresh hot water, I should have warned you,” she apologized.

“Nah, it’s awright, I’m ok,” he said quickly. 

Had her skirt hiked a little higher?  He was absolutely certain he saw some garter now.  He realized he felt a familiar twitching and thought he’d better leave before it got any worse.  What was wrong with him?  He’d never been like this around a bird before, and he knew plenty who’d put out for him if he asked for it.  Well, begged, more like.  But aside from trying Cyn and getting told to shove off, he hadn’t even thought of any of them during the long weekend.  He’d only been thinking of Sharon, of burying himself in her sweet body, of taking her to heaven beneath him as he moved into her body with force and power behind his thrusts.  Bloody hell, the twitching was starting to get more insistent and John started sweating again.

“Errrrr…… me clothes are prob’ly dry enough, right?  I’ll jus’ go change, then,” he said nervously.

John climbed back to his feet and grabbed the semi-dry clothes, retreating to the loo to change.  He dressed quickly and hung her robe on the hook at the back of the door.  Back in the living room, he smiled his thanks again and said his goodbyes.  The girl uncurled from the couch (Jesus, another glimpse even higher up her thighs, he saw the bare, soft skin of her inner thigh this time!) and walked him to the door, appearing a bit bewildered.  He gave her a kiss on the cheek and escaped before he did anything stupid.  What was wrong with him?  He’d seen her nearly naked every day the past week whilst she danced, what was wrong with him that seeing just a bit of her leg under her straight skirt had made him rush to her loo for a wank like the rankest amateur kid with a throbber?  Shit!  He’d been exactly that, hadn’t he?

***

Well, that certainly hadn’t turned out the way she’d wanted!  Sharon washed and dried the cups, wondering what had happened.  She’d been giving him definite hints, perhaps he wasn’t interested any longer?  Perhaps he hadn’t enjoyed what she’d done on Friday?  She snorted a laugh, that wasn’t likely, he’d liked it well enough!  Perhaps he’d just decided she was far too old for him, and he was probably just looking for a friend in which to confide or chat.  Well, that was it, more than likely. 

So be it. 

She prepared for bed and pulled on her fluffy robe, realized she smelled the boy on it.  Oh, the desire flared up quickly and she found herself lying on her bed whilst burying her nose in the robe to catch more of his scent.  Her fingers began their old familiar invasion, moving slowly or quickly as the moment took her closer and closer whilst she wrapped herself in the robe and breathed the musky man smell that she so craved.  Yes, yes, he’d touch her, just…… like……. this…….

Tuesday came and went, Wednesday arrived and flew past, Thursday likewise showed its face and then was gone.  Sharon thought she’d seen the end of John and good riddance, she didn’t need passion and turmoil in her life.  She’d asked him to stay away and he’d finally decided to do as she’d asked.  Thank God!  Right, this was a good thing, she told herself sternly.  Really, it was!  The only problem was, her dreams remained constant, shadowy young lovers taking her over and over, as she trembled on the brink, begging for release.  What was wrong with her, that she couldn’t purge him from her thoughts?

During the week, compelled by sheer boredom, she worked up a few new dances, and was pleased when they were accepted with additional applause.  Sharon thought they were a bit more risqué than the ones she’d created previously, but Janice enjoyed them and so did the businessmen.  Even Leonard and William watched, for a change!

She was glad when Friday came ‘round, it had been another long week and she was anxious for the relative quiet of the weekend.  During her final set, working out the brand new routine which still felt a bit ‘raw’, Janice saw John in the back of the club and Sharon shivered but didn’t miss a step, taking over as Janice fled in traitorous retreat. 

Alone on the stage, she might as well have been alone with John, and Sharon kept her eyes locked on the boy and went through her steps, slowly uncovering down to the skimpy bra and knickers she’d just bought, the ones with the tiger stripes that matched her feathers.  Her desires had kept her on edge all week, sleepless and fretful, not even the fantasy trips helping her overcome her weakness.  Something snapped deep inside as she danced, the line blurred between ‘Sharon’ and ‘Janice’, she was both and she embraced the duality.  She danced for the boy and him alone, ignoring the businessmen who’d suddenly come alive.  She left the stage to thunderous applause.

A knock on the door was expected, the knockers were not!  Leonard and William stood there with identical wolfish smiles, and invited her to ‘party’ with them.  She politely declined, smiling to hide her surprise.  They accepted her refusal in good cheer and wished her a good weekend. 

Toby knocked next, but he just complimented her on the new routine and gave her the weekly pay packet.  She changed swiftly and washed off her makeup, then left the club.  She went out the normal way, heart pounding as she wondered if he’d be in front of the club.  He was, and she smiled in weak-kneed relief.  He seemed a little tongue tied, just mumbling a hello.

“Did you like my new dance?” she asked.

“Errr, yeah, it was gear,” he mumbled.

She slid a glance down his lean body, oh, yes, he’d enjoyed it, that was a certainty from the looks of him in those tight pants!  He walked her down the block to the café. 

“John, will you wait for me, please?”

He looked surprised but nodded.  Sharon walked into the café and begged the evening off.  Fridays had been slow of late and she’d been working for months without a break.  The owner granted her the time, oh, she was lucky to have two good employers!  Back outside, she led John to the bus stop.  The poor boy was still so tongue tied that he didn’t even ask where they were going.  She suddenly wondered if he had any plans for the evening; she should have asked first!

“John, are you……busy……this afternoon or evening?”

He slowly shook his head.  “No.  We got a gig at th’ Grosvenor Ballroom tomorrow, but not ‘til eight in the evenin’.”

“Good,” she smiled, enjoying the flush that immediately coloured his cheeks. 

Oh, she definitely felt wicked today!  It had been the dance, she knew it, the tiger knickers and knowing that she was Sharon, not Janice, that Sharon was dancing for him and him alone.  Or perhaps it had been Sharon and Janice dancing for him? 

Did it matter? 

The others in the club had been mere occupants of the tables, she’d been dancing for John.  How amusing, that she’d wanted to throttle him when he’d asked for to dress up for him, and now she found herself in the position of having done just that, and she’d enjoyed it tremendously.  More than enjoyed it, she realized, it had fired her passion to the rooftops and her nightly dreams had simply whetted her appetite for him.  Well, she’d be having him soon enough, she could tell the poor boy was stiff with desire, and she thought she’d be certain to avail herself of his youthful lust this time around.

Entering her flat, she locked the door and asked if he wanted tea, fixed it quickly at his nervous nod, carried the tea tray into the living room, poured the cups full and sat on the sofa.

 “Do you have condoms?” she asked casually, her lips twitching a smile as he nearly spit out his mouthful of tea.

“Yeah, in me wallet,” he gasped, his voice pitched a little higher than normal.

“Good.  Can I have one, please?”

Wide eyed, he fumbled with his wallet, got the little wrapped packet from the wallet’s confines and she took it from him.  She unbuttoned his pants without another word, pleased that he showed all signs of readiness.  She tugged his clothes down around his thighs and tore the packet open, removed the little circular ring and worked it over his length as he moaned in pleasure.  Lifting her skirt, letting him see the tiger knickers she still wore, she straddled him and pulled the knickers to one side, impatient to feel his heat deep inside her, eager to fill herself with him, the dreams and fantasies unable to touch her like this. 

She slid down onto him with a moan, eyes closed, head tilted back, moaned again when she felt his hands rapidly unbuttoning her shirt, his rough fingers pulling aside her tiger striped bra, his lips on her breast.  He suckled her eagerly, his tongue flicking across her hard nipple and making her shiver deep inside.  Relishing the size of him filling her, she rose up on her knees and then plunged down again.  One masculine hand held her steady as she set the rhythm, the other reached between them to stroke her through her silky knickers, oh, lovely, just what she needed, he’d a little more experience than she’d hoped!  His fingers moved rapidly between them, encouraging her response; it built higher and stronger as she moved over him, rode him up and down, deeper, harder, faster.  Oh, yes, she’d wanted this so much…… for so long ……  The power behind the position, the power of taking him with barely a word spoken filled her with exultation, with joy, with energy and passion.

She cried out as the stimulation took her over the edge, sank down onto him as his fingers continued their delicious work, shivered and trembled as she felt him lifting his hips to move into her forcefully, her spasms encouraging his own release.  His mouth on her breast sucked hungrily, his breath fast and hot against her skin, his throbbing member lodged deep within her innermost core as she squeezed him, the contractions strong, the pleasure even stronger.  His arm circled her back and kept her upright throughout the shuddering release, held her steady as the convulsions wracked her, his hand clutching her waist even as his moans of release urged her on.

Shivering in the aftermath, Sharon rested her head against his shoulder, realizing she needed to move quickly, the position could too easily end up in a mess on her sofa that would be hard to clean.  A box of tissues was thankfully near at hand, and the resultant possibility of disaster was quickly taken care of.

“Mmmm, that was lovely, John,” she said as she sat beside him, taking a sip of lukewarm tea to ease her parched throat.

His throaty laugh surprised her, and she found herself back in his arms, his lips nuzzling her neck.  “Never met a girl like you, Sharon, somebody who’s not afraid ta want it an’ go after it.  I gotta say that ‘lovely’ doesn’t describe it very well, it was fantastic!”

“Well, perhaps that’s the difference between the young lasses you probably chase after and an old lady like me,” she replied with a smile.  She found herself shaken strongly, his hands gripping her shoulders.

“Don’t be sayin’ that!  Age doesn’t mean anything, luv,” he said sternly, and she submitted meekly to his kisses, thrilling at the ferocity behind them, an unbidden memory and desire rising up inside her.

All clothes were shortly removed and they were lying together on the floor, the kisses becoming stronger, more demanding, the touches more urgent.  He put the condom on himself this time, working it rapidly over his length as she waited, breathless and watching, enjoying the sight of him touching and stroking the rubber onto himself.  When he was ready, she was more than ready for him. 

The fierce shaking he’d given her, the urgent kisses had whetted her appetite……  She wondered if he’d be willing to put up with a little bit of a fetish, if he’d be willing to fulfill the dreams she’d been having.  Her guilty secret, the one she never dared to reveal to her infrequent lovers.  Did she dare this time?  The very thought……  But he was so young, perhaps he’d be less inhibited, more willing……?  She pushed old memories, bad memories aside, her heart in her throat as she hoped desperately that he might be open to this, and she focused on her dreams……

Dreams of somewhat threatening strangers, taking her against her will……

“Please don’t hurt me,” she said quietly, watching his eyes.  He looked startled.

Oh, please let him understand!  Please let him be willing... It’s been so long, so long...

“I’m not gonna……” 

John paused, and she fluttered her eyelashes at him for just a moment.  He grinned uncertainly at first, the smile spreading across his handsome features and then turning to delight. 

“Ya know, I could hurt ya real bad if I wanted.  Maybe I’ll do it, maybe I won’t,” he continued, his voice smooth and ragged by turns.  “Depends on ‘ow ya treat me.  If ya treat me right, maybe I won’t hurt ya too bad.”

Sharon licked her lips, nearly trembling with a desire that rose like a wildfire in her breast.  What a lovely young lad he was!  She listened breathlessly as he continued talking, easing himself into her ready body, slowly, so slowly that it was near torture.

“Maybe I’ll just hurt ya a little bit, luv.  What d’ya think about that?”

Her heart was fluttering in her throat, her breath rapid, she could feel herself clutching him tightly as he thrust into her.  He raised a threatening hand to her and she flinched, seriously alarmed for a moment until she saw the mischief in his eyes.

“Answer me when I talk to ya.  Maybe I’ll call me mates over.  What d’ya think o’ that?  D’ya want me friends touchin’ ya, waitin’ till I’m finished an’ then takin’ a turn with ya?”

“No,” she breathed, feeling flushed, the excitement heightening her experience until she was trembling beneath him.  “No, please, I’ll do anything you say, anything you want, just don’t hurt me.”

“Yeah?” he said with a devilish grin, a flush burning his cheeks nearly as strongly as the one she felt staining her face and breasts.  He pushed into her forcefully, driving his full length into her so that she gasped at the thrilling intrusion.  “Then if ya don’t want me hurtin’ ya, you …better … do…… ‘zactly …… what… I… tell… ya,” he breathed, forcing a gasp from her at each word, each thrust into her quivering interior, filling her so completely.

His inventiveness was limited to his experience, and she had to encourage him with her moans and suggestions of pretended fear, but it was an exciting joining, thrilling even, and the outcome was even stronger than the previous.  His thrusts took her into the heaven her dreams had promised, her contractions wracking her as her legs grasped his hips and pulled him deeper, his sudden stiffening and subsequent rapid and forceful thrusts encouraging her own reaction to heights heretofore unimagined. 

She held him gently when he collapsed in her arms, relishing the warmth of his body covering hers, enjoying the slippery feel of his sweaty chest pressed against hers as he gasped for air.  Oh, she’d certainly stumbled across a good one, hadn’t she?  Lovely, simply lovely!  She ran her fingers through his silky, damp hair and smiled as he caught his breath.

“Whew,” he breathed, moving to disentangle their limbs, reaching for the box of tissues in a thoughtful gesture that made her smile.  “’ow was that, Sharon luv?”

“Fantastic,” she echoed him with a laugh, kissing him and then crawling to her feet with a little moan she couldn’t suppress.  She was surprised when he reached and touched the remnants of the bruise on her hip with gentle fingers.

“Ya gotta be more careful, luv.  That was a bad ‘un.  Don’t want ya hurtin’ yerself like that again.”

“Well, I’ll certainly try not to……” she began, only to be stopped when he climbed to his knees and moved closer, kissing her bruised hip gently, so gently she felt the sting of tears in her eyes at his tenderness.  She was further surprised when he gently pushed her down onto the sofa, his fingers touching her skillfully, making her tremble, his kiss moving from her bruised hip to…….

“Wait!”  The desire had leaped again, nearly strangling her, but she wanted a wash first.  “Give me just a moment, I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He nodded, his eyes half shut, a Mona Lisa smile on his lips.  “Don’t be long,” he suggested, and she nearly laughed, but promised and went down the little hallway to the necessary, shivering with excitement.

***

John made himself comfortable, closing his eyes and sighing over the afternoon.  Jesus, that had been unexpected, but he hadn’t minded a bit!  He’d found a girl who’s passion matched his, and she wasn’t afraid of it, not even with that little bit of playacting she’d somehow suggested.  And enjoyed!  Only the once had she been afraid, really afraid; when he’d pretended to raise his hand to slap her for not answering him, he’d seen real fear in her eyes.  That had set his limits, and he’d enjoyed taking her right up to those limits, but not beyond.  He’d felt a little awkward a time or two, not quite sure what to do, but she hadn’t seemed to mind, had even offered a suggestion or two that he’d enjoyed. 

And, Jesus, the way she clutched him when he got her off, it was incredible, he’d never felt a girl do it that strongly before!  He luxuriated in the fact that he hadn’t had to beg once, she’d definitely wanted it, and the thought of how hot and ready she’d been each time he’d taken her……  Of course, when he’d squinted across the club and seen her in that tiger outfit, with the silky, striped lacy bits of cloth barely covering anything, the way she’d danced, seeming to be doing it for him alone, well, he’d definitely been ready for it, too!

John opened his eyes as he heard footsteps returning and smiled up at her, encouraging her to sit down on the sofa by patting it.  He took the warm washcloth she handed him, not quite sure what it was for, but he got the idea pretty quickly and used it to clean himself up a bit, enjoying the warmth, enjoying her touch even more when she moved to help him.  Better, he thought, much better! 

Well, right, he thought it was time to get started; he wasn’t really nervous about this, although he’d only done it once or twice before.  He knew it got the birds pretty excited, but he could take it or leave it, he thought privately.  But turnabout was fair play, wasn’t it?  She’d done this to him their first evening together and he wanted to repay the debt.  He let the girl settle back on the sofa and then moved between her legs, spreading them with his hands to kneel between them as he kissed the luscious breasts he’d dreamed about so often, then made himself comfortable and pushed her to lean back against the cushions. 

He kissed his way down her belly, sniffing and realizing she’d had a wash, she smelled like honeysuckle and he grinned with appreciation.  He remembered Auntie Mims having a honeysuckle bush outside in the garden.  As a child, he’d picked the flowers carefully and then pinched off the ends, pulling the long stamen (or was it a pistil?) through the flowers, moving it down the body of the flowers so carefully, no, mustn’t tear it!  He’d catch the single drop of honey on his tongue as it was pulled through and had thought it nectar of the Gods.

John attacked the flower before him, searching for her honey, unexpectedly enjoying and appreciating her clean and fresh flavour and aroma.  He had to hold onto her to keep her still, she was squirming so much, crying out as he continued, her reaction urging him on, enjoying it even more as she gasped out her pleasure.  He learned as he went along, taking her from peak to shivering peak as he determined how to enhance her shaking and how (and when!) to hold back just enough to make her beg for it.  He wondered why he’d previously never liked this very well; it was bloody fantastic!  But if he didn’t get some relief pretty quick, he’d be spilling over without benefit of touch, he’d got so excited getting the bird off!

Maybe the girl realized it, or maybe she’d had enough, but he rocked back on his heels when she pushed him away and then joined him on the floor, stretching out on the carpet and thankfully taking him in her mouth again, working him with hands and lips.  Oh, God, she knew just how to do it, it was even better than his memory of the last time!  He sat back on his knees and let her do what she wanted, moaning and stroking her silken hair, trying to hold himself back so that the enjoyment would build.  She knew well enough what to do that she brought him to the cusp several times, nearly teasing him by pausing and relaxing her stroke, then beginning again when the tingling sensations had somehow died down to tolerable limits.  He’d be nearly ready to burst, but then she’d slow things down just enough to keep him groaning in anticipation, without letting him spill.  By the time she took him all the way, he was gasping at the sheer strength of the reaction; the delays had made the spasms stronger and sweeter than anything he could remember.

Groaning as he pulled himself onto the sofa, John flexed his toes, wincing as the pins and needles sensation brought feeling back into his legs.

“Christ, girl, yer gonna wear me out,” he complained, only half joking.  He smiled to make certain that she realized he was joking; he wouldn’t call an end to this afternoon, not even if someone put a cane to his back!

She laughed gaily and got up off the floor, bending to kiss him swiftly.

“I suppose I’d better feed you, then, if I want anything more out of you tonight,” she teased, moving to the kitchen area.

He watched in admiration as she walked away.  She seemed completely comfortable in her skin, not embarrassed by her nudity, and he liked that.  He always had a hard time getting Cyn to shed her clothes, she’d frequently worry about the width of her hips or bemoan what she called her flat chest.  John really didn’t understand it himself, she looked all right to him.  Seemed as if every bird had a fault or two in her appearance, but there was always something to admire as well!  And as far as Sharon went, she had a right to be comfortable in her skin, she had a stunning body, firm and sleek, simply beautiful.  The only fault he could find in her appearance was her short hair; he liked that she was blonde, but he liked long hair on a girl.

He rested and watched as she opened a can of soup and started it heating in a pan, pulled bread from a cupboard, sliced cheese onto a plate.  When she returned for the tray, he pulled her down for a kiss.  She submitted for several minutes, then pulled away with a laugh.

“Your soup is going to scorch.  Can’t have that, can we?”

They ate the spicy Muligatawny soup and cheddar and nut bread, and John joked about crumbs falling in various places where they weren’t meant to be.

“Oh, no, that’s dessert, you know,” she said seriously, matter of factly.  “That, or perhaps some chocolate syrup?” 

She slanted her eyes towards him in a very sexy manner and John thought his heart skipped a beat in surprise and excitement at her words, the desire surging through him again.  Sitting naked like this on the sofa, it was a sure thing she’d see the result of her words, but she just smiled and cleared away the dishes, going back to fix another pot of tea. 

As the tea cooled unnoticed in the cups, their kissing grew more heated and they soon found themselves stretched out on the carpet again.

“Mmmmmmm, you’ve given me a lovely afternoon, John,” she whispered.

“Do I meet up t’ yer fantasies?” he asked with a grin, rolling onto an elbow and looking down at her as she lay on the carpet at his side.

Her blush was fiery, but she didn’t look away.  “Yes, have I met up to yours?”

He nodded with a laugh and hugged her, kissed her long and deep, the arousal a bit slower this time around, but definitely starting a tremor deep inside.  Thank God for a quick turn-around; he’d never had a problem going at it multiple times, enjoying each go more than the last!  Ohhh, she was a fantastic kisser……

***

Mmmmmm, he was a marvelous kisser, and the loving was simply fabulous, Sharon thought with a smile.  Perhaps there was something to be said for having such a young lover!  This had been incredible, and it would hopefully put an end to all the fantasies and desires she’d been having of late.  Her cravings for a long, lean, hard body had come and gone over the years, but never had they been as strong as they’d felt over the past two weeks.  She wanted to drown herself in the sensations, throwing all caution to the wind and enjoying every second of it for as long as it lasted.  She didn’t try to fool herself by thinking it was anything more than temporary and quickly passing lust.  His age was an obstacle no matter his protestations that it wasn’t a problem, but for now, she’d greedily accept whatever he cared to offer!

Oh, yes, lovely young boy with such a quick response and near instant renewal of desire!

The kisses and touches became more urgent, but she was surprised when John broke away from her with a moan, reaching for his wallet and digging through it frantically, swearing.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Sharon, I don’ ‘ave any more rubbers, luv.  Just used me last one.”

She cast a glance at the clock on the radio.  “The pharmacy down the street’s still open for a bit, do you mind running over there?  I’m afraid it could be awkward if I were to go in there for condoms.”

He appeared embarrassed, looking away from her with a flush touching his cheeks.  He certainly seemed ready for more, what was the problem, she wondered?

“Errrr …… Well, I …… errrrr ……” he began, finally blowing out a breath and making a face at the ceiling.  “I’m a bit tapped ‘til th’ Grosvenor gig tomorrow,” he admitted shamefacedly.

Sharon laughed and pulled him over her for a deep kiss.  “Silly lad, please don’t tell me you have a problem with me buying those awful things!”

He looked shocked.  “You don’ like ‘em, either?”

“I hate the bloody things,” she swore in distaste.

“Then why don’ we try……” he began, but she shook her head violently.

“No, it’s not safe enough, and I’m afraid I’m not willing to take the chance, John.  I might hate them, but I hate the thought of falling preggers even more.  Here, let me give you a bit of change, if you don’t mind……?”

He shook his head.  “Don’ mind at all,” he said with a lupine grin.

Thank God, a sensible boy!  She pulled some ready cash from her purse and turned to watch him dress, enjoying the lean contours of his body.  She had to bite her lip to hide her amusement when he had to struggle with his trouser buttons, the kissing had caused a nice reaction which she couldn’t wait to enjoy!  He gave her another kiss, took the pound note from her and was out the door as soon as he had his shoes on.  She was gratified by his speedy return, but nearly laughed aloud at the number of condoms he’d bought, the lad had an exceedingly high opinion of his stamina!

Somewhere in the middle of the night, Sharon finally called a halt to the proceedings, somewhat stunned that John’s stamina had more than matched up to his opinion of it!

When morning crept into her flat, she awoke with a bit of a headache and some aches from muscles she’d forgotten she had.  She leaned on an elbow and looked down at the boy in her bed, feasting her eyes on the lean body sprawled out in utter abandon as he slept.  He’d been simply wonderful for her ego, she thought wistfully.  Beautiful boy, beautiful young lover.  She gently stroked the sleep tousled hair back from his face, kissed him on the cheek and then gave herself a mental shake.  It was time to start the day.  He’d be gone shortly and that would be that.

She crawled from bed with a groan and went into the loo for a pee, washed her face and hands and brushed her teeth, then pulled on a pair of knickers and bra.  She started a kettle over a low flame, knowing it would take nearly twenty minutes to heat that way, then began her stretches.  She lost herself in the movements and only came back to an awareness of the flat and her surroundings when the kettle began to whistle.  Much better, she felt simply marvelous, even her headache was gone!  She got up off the floor and only then noticed that John was awake and squinting at her.  She stepped into the kitchen to pull the kettle off the flame.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” she said as she fixed tea.  “Did you have a nice rest?”

“Yeah, too right,” he said sleepily.  “What were ya doin’ jus’ now?”

“Stretching.  If I don’t do it every day, I’d never be able to dance,” she replied matter-of-factly.  “You don’t think I could keep looking like this if I didn’t work at it a little bit, did you?”  She decided against the tray and simply poured in the kitchen before carrying two cups over to the rumpled bed.  “Here’s some tea, time to wake up.”

“Why?” he asked with a grin, taking the cup from her.

She tousled his hair and then smoothed it absently.  “I’m afraid I have work to do today.  Laundry, cleaning, that sort of thing.  And of course I work this afternoon.  The café, you know.”

“Why doncha take th’ afternoon off?” he asked, sipping carefully from his cup.

“I already took last night off, John.  As nice as the offer is, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline the invitation,” she said with a smile to take the sting from her words, foolishly feeling lighthearted when he looked disappointed.  Stop it, she scolded herself, don’t be ridiculous!  If you see him again, it will be a wonder!

“Oh, yeah, right,” he replied, sounding subdued.

She fixed him breakfast, toast and scrambled eggs with ham, and hot, sweet tea to wash it all down.  He tried to entice her back to bed, but she merely laughed and shook her head.

“I’m sorry, John, I’d love to, but I don’t really have time to do my housework during the week.  If I don’t get it done today, then it will have to wait until next weekend and I don’t fancy the thought of how much longer it would take me then!”

“Well, why don’ I help ya?”

She raised her eyebrows at him.  “You want to help me do housework?”

“Well, if we get it all done early like, then there might be a bit of time before ya go ta th’ café, right?” he asked hopefully.

Sharon started laughing, nodding.  “Right then, you get to work around the house and I’ll take the dirties to the laundromat.  I’ll be back as quickly as possible, but if you decide to leave, please be sure and lock up behind you.”

“Laundromat?” he asked.

“Well, living in a small flat like this, it’s a bit difficult to wash everything by hand, so it’s one of my luxuries, the Chinese laundry two streets over.  Although I have to remind them not to starch my knickers!”

Go Read Part Three!

C.A.Jones is a long-time fan of The Beatles, but was never lucky enough to see them together in concert. An avid reader since childhood, C.A. only recently tried her hand at writing and now has another hobby with which she consumes her all-too-little spare time. She lives in the Western United States with husband and pets and computers.