Breaking The Drought 4

There was a heavy series of thuds from upstairs, then a muffled screech. "Sam? Sam?"

"Yes, what's up?" I called back, still looking at my emails.

"Ugh, Sam, I can't close my fucking bag! Can you come and give me a hand?"

I pushed my chair back from the table and stood up. "No worries, I'll be there in a sec." I climbed the stairs and walked into Claire's room to see her surrounded by clothes and bits of paperwork, her small suitcase lolling open obstinately on her bed. I laughed. "I thought you were only going away for a couple of nights! How many outfits do you need for a conference?"

She made a face. "Just because you would happily wear the same thing from breakfast to bedtime! Can you just help me get it shut, please?"

I looked at the case. "Hey, is that red dress mine?" I asked.

"Shh, you know it looks good on me, and you're not going to have any use for it while I'm gone." I conceded the point with a shrug. "Can you lean on this while I zip it up?" I did as she asked, putting my elbows on the case as she wrenched the zip around its perimeter, then standing up and dusting her hands off like she'd just changed a tyre. "Ace, thank you. God, I'm not looking forward to this; it's going to be so dry."

I laughed. "I don't know what else you'd expect from the UK's premier insurance sales conference, to be honest with you! Are you finished with all this?" I gestured at the mess.

Claire sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I'll just put some of the worst of it away. I can deal with the rest when I get back."

"I don't mind doing some of it while you're gone, it's no drama." I smiled at her. "How about you come down in a few and we'll have a glass of wine? I've got that pasta bake in the oven which'll be done in about half an hour."

***

We sat on the sofa chatting, waiting for dinner to finish cooking. I loved living with Claire; she was my best friend from university and had been my absolute rock when my relationship had fallen apart a year ago. I'd been devastated at the loss of my childhood sweetheart, the only man I'd ever been with, and she had picked me up, giving me the space and love I'd needed to recover. She'd separated from her fiancé about nine months before that but had kept the house that she'd bought. Moving in with her had been the best thing that had happened to me. We shared all of the household jobs, helped each other out with work stuff, and could swap our dating stories; hers relatively frequent, mine much, much less so. I'd only been on a couple of first dates since the break-up, nothing more.

I was in the kitchen putting the pasta dish back in the oven for another few minutes when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Claire said, unlatch the door and say, "Hi, can I help you?" I wandered back into the lounge to sit on the sofa.

A man's voice answered. "Hey, sorry to bother you. I live just behind you guys up the hill, and my cat's wandered off. I'm Marius, sorry. I don't think we've bumped into each other before."

"I'm Claire, and this is Sam," Claire said, gesturing inside at me.

A face appeared around the doorjamb, handsome and topped with sandy hair, followed by a hand raised in a wave. I waved back "Hi, nice to meet you both," Marius said. "The last time I saw him was on your garden wall. Would you mind just taking a look to see if you can see him out there? I didn't spot whether he actually came into your garden or not, but it's been a few hours now and he could be hiding."

I stood up. "No problem at all!" I said cheerily. "What does he look like?"

"Thank you," Marius replied. "He's ginger and white, and he's quite big. If he is there he should be easy to see. His names Bart."

I laughed. "Okay, no problem. I'm sure he'll be fine, I've definitely seen him around before. I'll go and take a look now." I walked out to the kitchen as Claire and Marius made conversation. There was a little bit of ham in the fridge which I thought ought to be enticement enough for a cat who'd missed dinner. I stepped out into the dusky garden and looked up the hill. I could see a window with the light on up there, which must have been Marius' house. His garden backed on to ours, and he must have had a decent view of most of our lawn and patio, not to mention my room and the kitchen. When I moved in a couple of years ago there was an older lady who lived there, but we'd never really interacted with each other and I'd clearly missed her moving out.

We had a big New Jersey Tea bush in the back corner of the garden which I immediately thought looked like an appealing place to hide, if I were a cat. I quietly padded up there, the grass cool under my feet in the summer evening, crouching down with my hand outstretched. "Hey, Bart? Bart?" I called. A nose emerged from the shadows. "Hey, Bart," I said reassuringly, proffering the ham. "Come on out." The cat cautiously stretched out from his hiding place. "Can I pick you up?" I asked, not expecting an answer. The ham seemed to be transfixing him anyway, so I scooped Bart up and brought him inside.

"Here he is!" I said, smiling as I carried the cat through to the front door. Claire stepped back to let me bring him to Marius.

"Ah, you silly little bastard," he said fondly. I passed Bart over, noticing Marius' strong, tanned forearms as I did so. "Thank you," he said.

I looked up at him. "No problem at all. He's very sweet." I almost stumbled over the words; Marius, it turned out, was absolutely gorgeous. He had deep blue eyes set in a Robert Redford face, all strong features and expressive lips. From what I could see of his body, he appeared to be in excellent shape too. I felt a blush start to steal its way across my face. Marius turned from fussing the cat to looking back at me, and clearly caught the change in my demeanour. A small smile flicked across his lips and I felt him look me up and down, all over my body, taking in every part of me; my dark hair and eyes, firm, round breasts, slim waist. My eyelids fluttered involuntarily and I cleared my throat. "He was right up at the back of the garden. If he'd come down a bit towards the house you'd have been able to see him, assuming that's your window I can see from out the back."

Marius nodded. "Yeah, that's my office. I like watching him from up there, just exploring the neighbourhood. Gives me something to take my mind off work, anyway!" He rubbed Bart's head. "Right, I'll let you folks get on with your evening, but thank you for this." He fixed me with a look that was both hard to read and absolutely electric. "Hopefully I'll see you around."

I closed the door and turned around to see Claire standing in the hallway with a massive grin on her face. "You like him!" she semi-squealed. I blushed, starting to stammer a denial. "No, no, you do, you do! Oh, you're so cute Sam, you really are. You like him! Fair play, he is pretty fanciable and it has been legit ages for you; you're basically a virgin again by now! Not really my type, but I can see it." She laughed.

"Okay, okay, yes, I do." I conceded, realising it was pointless to lie; I could feel that I was basically bright red. I laughed, "But hey, I think he liked a bit of what he could see here too!" I pantomimed, clumsily indicating my body.

Claire slapped herself on the forehead, feigning shock and disbelief. "God knows why, you're such a massive dork!"

***

"Mmpf, mmm. Mmm, mmm! Mmm, ahhhh!" The world swam into focus as I woke up, and my intense dream of me on my knees with Marius' cock filling my mouth slipped away. I lay completely still, my heart thudding, a phantom tingle of lust on my lips. 'Good God,' I thought, 'That was really, really hot.' I touched myself and was unsurprised to find that I was soaking wet; I didn't know how long my dreaming self had been pleasuring imaginary Marius, but she'd definitely been enjoying it. I toyed with myself absent-mindedly, just letting the residual pleasure from my dream carry on a little bit longer.

A soft knock on my door made me freeze. "Sam, I've got to get going," Claire called.

"Okay," I replied, "Have a good trip, don't forget to check in with me when you get places and try and have some fun." I wanted to wish her luck but I also wanted to be left alone; I could feel the fantasy dissolving.

She pushed the door open and popped her blonde head around the frame, a big smile on her face. "Hey, maybe you should try and have some fun of your own." She waggled her eyebrows and inclined her head in the direction of my window. "Maybe bake him some muffins or something."

I laughed and threw a cushion at her softly. "Have a good trip!" I burrowed back down in bed. "Love you!"

She picked up the cushion and laughingly threw it back. "Love you too, dork. Try not to be too boring while I'm away." Her footsteps retreated until she reached the front door. She shouted a quick "Bye!" and then was gone. I sprawled back out in bed, fingers trying to reconnect with my dream, but the moment had passed. I sighed.

Might as well get up, then.

***

The morning passed in a fuzzy blur of work, my mind occasionally drifting away to a much more enjoyable place but never allowed to remain there as clients incessantly emailed me, or much worse called me. The project I was working on was also irritating and complicated, and by lunchtime I was stressed out. I fired off a last couple of emails and closed my laptop, running my hands through my hair.

Give yourself a break, like a proper lunch hour. Go and chill in the garden or something.

It was a beautiful day and our garden caught the sun nicely; perfect for a spot of sunbathing. I went upstairs to find something more appropriate to wear.

I stepped into the garden wearing a red bikini with a tie top, my hair loosely in a bun on top of my head, carrying a glass of ice-cold cola. The slabs under my feet were warm, and the air hummed gently with summer heat. We had a couple of lounger chairs in the sunny spot under the kitchen window and I stretched out on one of them, loving the feeling of the sun's rays on my exposed skin. I put the glass of cola down on the table with my phone and settled in, closing my eyes.

That's what I'm after. Peace.

I took a deep breath, inhaling the heady scent of suburban gardens on a hot day. Someone a little way away was mowing their lawn. I opened my eyes again and looked around. It was funny; until talking to Marius I'd never really considered whether our garden was overlooked at all. It turned out that no other houses had a good view of ours except for his which, given its previous occupier, is why I suppose we'd never thought about it. I looked up there now, half-wondering if he was looking out, but the curtains were closed.

Shame,

I thought to myself lazily.

He'd have a nice view if he was, especially in a moment.

I reached up to the base of my neck with one hand and undid my bikini top, pulling it off to let the sun fall on my breasts. The warmth on my skin felt so nice. I picked up my glass and took a sip, some condensation falling off onto my chest as I did so. It tickled and ran down my cleavage. I sighed and let my mind wander, and it orbited inexorably back to my little fantasy from this morning. I closed my eyes and let the thought back in, me on my knees in front of Marius, licking his cock, stroking it.

Mmm, yes. Just let go and enjoy it.

I squirmed a little on the lounger as the idea took over my mind and tingles ran through my body.

I just know he'd be so good.

I imagined his hands on my body, grasping my breasts, running over my hips, strong, powerful. In my mind he ran his hand down through my soft pubic hair, heading lower, teasing me. I matched my imagination with my own hand, slipping it under my bikini, lower, lower, gently teasing my clit. I bit my lip and sighed.

Mmm, Marius,

I thought.

I slipped a finger lower again, gently rubbing along my labia, just my fingertip slipping inside to find a growing wetness. I spread my legs, imagining him, his head between my thighs, his tongue lapping at me, diving in and out of me, enjoying me like the ripest fruit. I slowly entered myself with two fingers and started to slide them in and out, losing myself to how it felt, imagining it was Marius on top of me, his huge manhood inside me, in and out, pushing deep into my body, to the very centre of me. I used my thumb on my clit as I fucked myself lovingly with my fingers, moaning softly, eyes screwed shut, Marius filling my mind.

God, I want him so badly. I want him like nothing else.

I felt pleasure building inside me like the undertow before a wave; that sound as the water drags out across the little pebbles that presages a huge crash. My muscles tensed, spasming, and I pleasured myself faster, keeping pace with the rising beat of my arousal, desperate to catch the wave. I moaned, high-pitched and sudden, and then shook hard, my stomach muscles contracting and my toes curling, thighs clamping together around my hand, my back arching as I came.

I stayed there for a moment, panting, not moving, then slowly uncurled myself, pulling my fingers out and laying my hand on my belly, feeling my heart beating hard through my skin. I opened my eyes to locate my cola and took a big gulp, then lay back and looked at the sky.

That's what I call a stress-buster,

I thought, smiling at the endless expanse of blue. I flicked my gaze back over towards Marius' window, and a sudden shock ran through me. His curtains were open now. What if he was there? What if he could see me now? What if he'd been watching? I froze, topless on the sun lounger. I didn't want to freak out and pretend modesty now; if he'd seen me, he'd seen me.

Just play it cool, Sam,

I thought.

He's probably not even up there, he's probably just letting the light in.

I took another drink and then picked up my phone. I had a message from Claire letting me know that she was attending a roundtable called 'The Wind In Our Sales,' which seemed about right. I laughed softly to myself and scrolled through the news headlines, trying to look like I didn't care if I was indeed visible.

Did I actually care if he had been watching, though?

I mulled the thought over. I mean, I'd definitely been aware that he could have been, and hadn't I been a little disappointed when I thought he wasn't?

Hmm. Well, it's not as if anything's going to happen. Claire's right, I haven't had sex for so long now, I might as well be a nun.

I popped my sunglasses on top of my head and rolled over to get some sun on my back.

I lay in the sun for another half-hour or so, turning over every now and then when it got too warm, and occasionally casting furtive glances up to Marius' window to see if I could spot him there, but I never did. Feeling like I'd had enough of gently toasting myself I got up, picked up my bikini top, glass, and phone, and went back inside. I popped upstairs and quickly threw a light cotton summer dress on over my bikini bottoms, perfect for doing a little light housework after lunch, and swanned back downstairs into the cool of the kitchen. I assembled a little salad, just some rocket and walnuts with a balsamic vinaigrette and some goats cheese, which I took outside to eat at the garden table with a glass of water. There was a gentle breeze blowing now, tussling playfully with the leaves of the silver birch in the back-right corner of the garden. As I ate I checked my emails again, organising my afternoon. It was going to be a spot of work, easier than this morning's, then I was going to give the house a little clean and be done by about 6:00 or so, ready for a nice glass of wine and a relax; a pretty good day all around.

My phone rang; it was Claire, presumably on a lunch break. I answered and we chatted through what we'd been up to, though I tactfully left out my little sunbathing escapade. Her day sounded like a whirlwind of rubbish coffee and men in bad suits wearing too much aftershave, huddled in the shadows of the conference centre in Leeds. I did not envy her one bit and I gave her my sympathies; before I went freelance I had spent enough time in those fluorescent-light environments myself to know that I wouldn't go back for love nor money. We could only talk for a few minutes, then she had to go to her next appointment, some workshop about 'Sales Of The Century.' I commiserated at the awful punning she was having to endure. I put the phone down, had a last stretch in the sun, then headed inside to get on with my afternoon.

The evening came, still hot and bright, one of those long summer days that established itself mid-morning and finally, reluctantly burnt itself out at about 9:30. I'd been scrubbing the bathroom for the last half-hour, working up a gentle, productive sweat, but that was my last major task for the day; everything was ship-shape and I felt a sense of real achievement. Standing in the kitchen, basking in the relative cool of the open fridge door, I pulled out a bottle of sauvignon blanc, so cold it was sweating more than I was. I fetched a glass from the cupboard and poured a decent measure, then retired to the lounge to put my feet up.

I fielded a couple of texts from Claire, sending her a selfie of my sweaty face and glass of wine with a big smile. I put a playlist on, just some classics from when we were at university; The Strokes, The Killers, Lily Allen, your standard Millennial indie-fest that was the soundtrack to my ballet pumps and thick eyeliner era, and did my best to blend into the cushions. My glass of wine depleted at a somewhat disappointingly fast rate so I refilled it and resumed my position, my body relaxing and thoughts of a shower drifting around my mind.

In a bit, in a bit,

I thought.

Just relax for now.

My reverie was disturbed by a knock at the door. I put the wine glass on the coffee table and answered it.

Oh God.

Marius was there, smiling broadly and holding another bottle of wine. "Hey there," he said, "I hope I'm not interrupting."

I smiled, my heart pounding in my chest. "No, not at all. How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks," he replied. "I just wanted to bring this over for you guys to say thanks for helping me out with Bart last night." He passed me the bottle of wine.

"Oh, thank you! That's so sweet, you didn't need to do that," I said. "It was really no trouble." I teetered on the precipice of my next move.

I don't want to be rude, but what do I do?

He was still smiling at me and I realised I'd let the moment hang slightly too long. I laughed. "Sorry, I've had a busy day. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea or something?" I'd said it before I even really thought about it, but the invitation was out there now. I was split pretty much evenly between wanting him to wave it off and wanting him to accept.

It was his turn to stand on the edge of a decision, but he took the initiative much quicker than I had. "Sure, that sounds nice, thank you." I stepped back to let him in. "Shall I take my shoes off?" he asked.

"If you like," I said. "You can put them on the rack there." He shucked his feet out of his sneakers then walked through into the lounge. I shut the door behind him and swept through to the kitchen as breezily as I could to put the wine in the fridge. "So, tea? Coffee? We've got coke or water too. Take a seat anywhere."

"I'd love a tea," he said, and I heard him settling into the sofa. "It's really nice in here, by the way."

"Thank you!" I replied. I put the kettle on with slightly shaky hands.

He's in my house. Oh God, what's going on?

"I suppose it should be, given that I'm a designer and all, but frankly a lot of the choices are Claire's. I'm better on paper, I guess!" I was babbling, finding things to say as I fetched a mug. "Milk? Sugar?"

"Both please, just one sugar if that's okay." I made us both a cup, thinking it would be a little off to come back and start nailing my wine; also, I hoped it might calm my jangling nerves.

It's okay, he won't stay for more than one I'm sure.

Walking back into the lounge, I passed him his mug and sat on the armchair at the end of the coffee table. Marius gestured at my wine glass. "Sorry, I feel like I was interrupting you."