The Things We Do

A movement at the edge of my vision catches my attention, I glance up to see a tall, dark haired woman walking towards the counter. She's younger than me, at a guess I'd say in her early 40s, quite curvy, wearing black, short spiked shoes, black nylons, a dark grey knee length skirt and a white blouse. I take in this small amount of detail as my eyes flick up to look at her face; not unattractive, rounded features, not much make-up, dark, maybe brown, eyes, long, dark brown hair. She looks tired, even stressed.

We make eye contact and, for no reason at all, other than being friendly, I smile, she blinks a couple of times and gives a faltering smile back. I break eye contact and go back to my newspaper.

It's fifteen minutes or so later and I'm aware of someone approaching my table. Looking up I find it's the dark haired woman from earlier. She stops just in front of me looking a little unsure of herself.

She shuffled from foot to foot for a few seconds not saying anything, so I broke the silence. 'Hi, can I help?'

She cleared her throat, looked nervously around. 'Can I sit down for a moment?'

'Err, yeah, sure.'

She pulled the opposite chair out and sat down, looked at the table top for a minute then seemed to come to a decision and looked up, leant towards me and began to whisper.

'This is going to seem totally crazy but, will you fuck me?'

Now it's my turn to blink. In fact I think I blink so hard that my eyelids make a noise.

Taking my silence as a rejection she blushed a deep red and began to stand. 'I'm really really sorry, I shouldn't have said that.'

I pulled myself together and put my hand out, placed it on top of hers. 'Please, sit.'

She stopped, halfway to standing, and looked at my hand, then sat back down.

'My turn to be sorry, you caught me very much unawares. It's not every day that a woman asks me that.' I chuckled. 'In fact, that's a first.'

She smiled half heartedly. 'I'm sorry.'

I smiled at her. 'Don't be sorry, it obviously took a great deal of nerve to ask it.'

She blew out her breath and seemed to relax a little. I let go of her hand.

She started to speak in a bit of a rush. 'You know, I have this really stressful job, two entitled live-at-home adult kids and a husband who frankly couldn't give a toss. And I sit here most mornings on the phone and email trying to organise people who don't want to be organised and every day I look up and look around and think to myself, God I need a fuck! And today we made eye contact, and you smiled. You didn't look me up and down, you didn't say anything, you just smiled a genuine smile. And I said to myself: I'm going to ask him. And now I'm hating myself for embarrassing both of us.' She paused and blew out her breath again. 'Oh God. I'm sorry, I must sound like a desperate housewife.'

I resisted the urge to laugh, probably the worst thing I could have done. 'Well you've no need to be embarrassed, I'm certainly not, in fact I'm flattered that you would ask me after all the times of thinking it, and anyway, I've no idea what a desperate housewife sounds like. So there's no need to hate yourself, you should be pleased with yourself for having the courage to ask the question. And yes.'

She sat there looking at the table top, then suddenly seemed to realise that she'd missed something, or maybe she hadn't. 'Sorry?'

This time I did laugh. Then, lowering my voice as much as possible. 'I said yes. You asked me if I'd fuck you and I said yes.'

She looked a little stunned, in fact she looked a lot stunned.

'Oh.....really?......OK.....mmmm.....really?'

I laughed again. 'Yes, really. Look, you're an attractive woman who frankly could ask any guy in here the same thing and you'd already be being dragged outside or into the bathroom.' She shuddered at that so maybe not the bathroom. 'But I'm not a caveman, so it's still your choice.'

In a now not entirely certain voice. 'Oh, wow, oh, errrr, mmm......OK.'

Standing, looking across at her table I soften my voice. 'Why don't you grab your things and I'll meet you outside.'

She sat looking up at me for a moment then stood, we're the same height, she looked me in the eyes for a moment then turned towards her table. I thought: she'll either follow me or she won't. So I walk through the café to stand outside. A minute later she walked out of the door carrying her bag, laptop and jacket, she looked very uncertain about how things were turning out. I smile at her. 'I'll park over there,' nodding towards the far side of the car park, 'follow me and park next to me.'

I walk over to my van, get in and drive across to where I'd indicated, then reversed up against the hedge: this side of the car park is still empty of other cars, and probably will be for another hour or so when the nearest shops start to open. A moment later she pulled up alongside me.

I step out and walk around to the back, open the back door furthest from her, then look at her, still sitting in her car, probably trying to decide whether to carry on with this mad idea of hers.

Again I smiled, held out my hand.

She looked for a second more then, making the decision, stepped out of her car and took my hand, I pulled her towards me until she's against my chest. then opened the other door wrapping us in a cocoon of relative privacy.

I almost ask if she's still ok but I know that if I do she'll start to think about it again and she has already gotten herself this far. I also know that she hasn't asked me for love and conversation so......

I kissed her. Just a soft touch with my lips against hers. And she moans, a very quiet, almost inaudible moan. Then she starts shaking, more of a tremble really, from head to toe. She isn't suddenly orgasmic, it's more like a tension tremble, or an anticipation tremble, something like that, whatever it is it sweeps through her, almost causing her knees to collapse.

I put an arm around her waist and slip a hand around the back of her neck, push my fingers into her hair. Pressing my lips to hers I probe with my tongue, push between her lips: her teeth are smooth and even, she tastes of coffee. She moans again and returns the kiss; meets my pressure with hers, our tongues meet, slide across each other. Both of her hands are now on the back of my head, her fingers squeezing, her lips urgent, her tongue, full of passion and need, forces its way into my mouth, her breathing harsh.

I slide my hands down her body, stroke her back, then down onto her bum, squeeze her buttocks then start to hitch her skirt up, her slippery underskirt making it easy.

As soon as she realises what I'm doing she breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against my cheek, her breath hot on my neck.

I lift her skirts to her hips, squeeze her bum through her tights and knickers and pull her against the bulge of my stiff cock, she groans and her fingers clench against the back of my neck.

No time to waste, no time for foreplay.

Twisting my arm I push a hand between our bodies: my fingers follow the thick seam down the front of her tights. It cuts her in half, the rising mounds of her outer lips edging it, the heat between them radiating through her clothes. Press my fingers against her, rub a finger up and down, the heat of friction counters the heat of her body, a dampness quickly building under my fingers.

My nail scratches across the course material of her tights, dragging up the length of her pussy, up across the pronounced bump at the top.

She groans and grabs at my shoulders, presses herself against me. I rub and scratch along the length of her, up and down between her thighs then up in circles to scratch across her outer lips, then focus around her clit; just above it, round in small circles or right on top of it. Then back down the seam; constantly changing my attentions but always using the coarse fabric to create those tiny vibrations.

Her hands squeeze my shoulders and her breathing deepens. A humming at the back of her throat and her forehead drops onto my shoulder. Her hips start to move against my hands, her groin following me as she tries to position those most sensitive parts of her body under my fingers.

Her thighs begin to tense, to squeeze against my fingers, her hips to lift, to push up against me.

I roll my fingers in a wave; one finger, then the next, then the next, scratching across the entire triangle between her quivering thighs; starting down as low as I can reach then moving all the way up across the top before starting all over again.

The grip on my shoulders becomes white knuckled, she growls and pushes up onto her toes as a long shiver ripples through her body.

I keep going, prompting another long shiver, then another, until she groans again and her grip begins to ease and she settles back.

I pull her back against me, both arms around her, ease my fingers into her tights and knickers, push them down off her bum, down onto her thighs.

Stepping away from her I take her arm and turn her back to me: she doesn't resist, doesn't say anything, just follows my lead.

She knows what's coming, it's what she asked for.

I drop to a knee, take hold of the waistband of her tights, pull them and her knickers all the way down to her ankles. Stroke up the backs of her legs, over her bare arse, the soft, cream skin contrasting with the dark colours of her skirt and tights.

Unbidden, she bends over to rest her hands on the bed of the van.

Her arse is rounded, all curves, I push her cheeks apart, press my face between them, lick from her wet pussy up across her anus, tease my tongue against her tight hole, she groans and squirms her bum against my face. There's no time to enjoy her so I give it a final stab then stand back up.

Undoing my belt I let my trousers and boxers drop, my swollen cock springs free. I push my foot between hers and nudge them as far apart as her tights and knickers will allow. Take my cock in one hand and rub it up and down the crack of her arse; a trail of pre-cum left on her skin. She breathes deep and almost whimpers, mutters something I don't catch.

Rub the head up and down the length of her wet pussy, find her entrance and ease forward: an intake of breath and her head drops, I push forward a little at a time, each time pulling back before pushing back in, each time sinking into her that little bit further.

Her stance and clothing makes her entrance very tight, increasing the sensations both of us are feeling: her senses are already heightened, mine not too far behind. Before long I touch my hips to her bum, grip her hips to hold her still, press up against her, push in as far as I can.

Grind against her, rotate the head of my cock inside her body. Then short, sharp thrusts, my cock-head deep inside her, her buttocks quivering with each thrust.

I pull back and immediately thrust back in, one long smooth push, she gasps and I do it again, and again, and again. Each time pushing in as far as I can, each time smacking my hips against her bum and each time she grunts and pushes back against my thrust.

She reaches up with a hand and grips the edge of the van roof, braces herself.

I switch it up. Short twisting bumps into her, constantly changing the angle then back to long pounding thrusts, cheeks of her arse getting red: the walls of her pussy gripping my cock, her pubic hairs scratching down my length, a tingling in my balls, short fast pumping thrusts.

Her rasping breath mixed with gasping moans, the arm she's bracing herself with starts to collapse, her legs begin to shake. A long low cry and I feel her pussy swell and flood, my balls and thighs suddenly wet with her juices.

The heat around my cock tips me over the edge and I let my own orgasm have its way, no point holding it back, no time to do so, and, with one more smack of my hips against her arse, my dam bursts.

With a grunt I cum, feel the thick burning liquid pump into her, more shuddering thrusts, my own knees weak, and I pump more into her, each one weaker than the last.

Her arm drops and I have to hold her up, pulling her against me until I'm spent and she's gone through her own release.

We're both breathing hard, I'm still holding her up; gripping her hips, pressed against her wet arse.

She begins to recover, to take her own weight. Reaches up again and grabs the edge of the roof, pulling herself upright. I ease back and my cock slips out of her sopping wet heat into the cooler air.

She staggers slightly and turns towards me, leans back against the van door; her face flushed, eyes sparkling, full of renewed confidence. She clears her throat. 'Well Mr Caveman, that was certainly worth the question.'

I lean against the other door and look at her; her skirt has started to drop off her waist to cover her hips but her tights and knickers are still at her ankles. Looking down at my own trousers and boxers around my feet I laugh. 'And I'm so very glad that I answered the question correctly.'

'You certainly did that.' She bends to pull her underwear up, then smoothes her skirt down.

She looks at me, her eyebrows lift and, slightly mockingly, she smiles. 'Are you going to stay like that?'

'Watching you.' But I sort myself out.

She's much more together now, back to being the smart, organising business woman. 'Can I see you again?'

I look up then around, chuckle. 'Not sure we'll be so lucky next time, but definitely, if you'd like to, but preferably not here.'

She's suddenly animated. 'Oh I'd definitely like to see you again. What I said in the café was true, about my life.' I'm not really sure why she said that. 'So yes, I absolutely want to see you again. And, even though it was fun and exciting, definitely not here. Is there somewhere we can meet?'

I smile. 'I've got my own place, live on my own. Would you be ok with that?' I paused, thought for a moment. 'What are you doing now, apart from organising people who don't want to be organised.'

'What?' She suddenly isn't sure, isn't entirely sure of what I'm leading up to, but has a pretty good idea. 'Err, nothing, just that......organising.'

'Then how do you feel about coming back to mine now? We could do some more question and answer.'

She's torn between work and play, knows she should work but desperately wants to play.

She chews her cheek, then comes to another decision. 'Is it far?'

'Fifteen minutes.'

She grins. 'Ok then, I'd love to go back to yours.' She glances over at the café we'd left not so long ago. 'But I want to go to the loo first. Do you mind giving me your address and I'll follow on. No need to wait.'

'No problem.' I pulled out my wallet and took one of my hardly ever used business cards, got a pen from my van and scribbled my address on the back, handed it to her. 'Just follow your satnav, it'll get you there.'

In the meantime she'd gotten a business card of her own and we swapped.

'I'll be there......,' She glanced at my card. 'David, I promise.'

After looking at the card she'd handed me I waved it in the air, smiled and replied, 'Nicole.'

She stood against her car studying me. 'You don't know how much I needed that David, so thank you. And thank you for......taking charge. And the tights scratching thing......phew!'

It was getting too busy to kiss and we both knew it, so we just stood for a second longer then, in a moment's synchronicity, we grinned at each other, she got in her car, started it, reversed, waved and drove back across to the café.

I watched her leave, looked at her card and wondered if she would be true to her word.

I needn't have worried. Twenty minutes after getting home, giving me chance to clean up and change, she pulled up in front of the house.

I was sitting outside waiting and I got to my feet as she pulled up.

Getting out of her car she looked at the house then at me.

'Find it OK?' I asked.

'No problem at all, just, as you said, followed the instructions. But David, I did not expect this. Sorry, but I expected a suburban semi or something. But this?'

I grin rather ruefully. 'Yes, I get that occasionally. Would you like to have a look around?' I ask half heartedly.

'Oh, not right now, maybe later.'

Holding out my hand towards the house, I said, 'But you'd still like to come inside.' It wasn't a question.

'Mmmm.'

And she walked past me through the door.

She's standing in the hall in front of me looking left and right as I close the door.

Stepping past her I take her hand and walk into the lounge.

It's not a big lounge and within a few steps I'm standing in front of the sofa, she stops in front of me.

Her brown eyes have green flecks that get denser towards the centre, they're sparkling with excitement.

I twist her wedding band for a moment then let go of her hand and slide mine up the back of her sleeved arm onto her shoulder.

My fingers reach the nape of her neck and I stroke the soft hair under her collar. She begins to shiver at the touch; just a very faint, uncontrollable reaction to built up tension.

I touch my lips to hers. They're soft, dry, her warm breath smells of mint.

I put my other hand on her cheek, kiss her.

Hardly touch her at first but slowly build the pressure until she moans into my mouth.

I touch my tongue to her lips, they part and her tongue touches mine. They push against each other and I let her win, withdraw, hers follows mine and she bumps backwards and forwards across my teeth, pushes into my mouth to again find my tongue, they play tag for a minute until I break the kiss.

Letting go of her head I begin to undo the buttons on her blouse.

She rests her forehead on mine, her breath washing across my face as my fingers move down flicking button after button.

Reaching the waistband of her skirt I ease her blouse up until it's hanging free, then, one after the other, I unfasten the last two buttons.

My fingers glide up over the curve of her tummy to cup her ample breasts, squeeze her nipples through her white bra. Leave them, slip her blouse off her shoulders and down her arms, let it fall to the floor.

Reaching round I trail up her spine to her bra, squeeze the clip until it comes apart.

At the same time as slipping the straps off her shoulders and down her arms I let myself drop until I'm sitting on the sofa.

Pulling her bra free I let it fall to join her blouse.

Her breasts hang before me, they're bigger than I'd initially thought; not too big, but lovely firm round orbs with wide, dark areola and large nipples. I do what a lot of men and women long to do; I push my face between them. Their soft warmth surrounds my face, smothers me in flesh.

Cupping the outside curves I push them against me, imagine my cock where my face is, thrusting up between them.

I stroke her nipples until they pucker, give them a squeeze, pinch them until she gasps at the pressure.

Pulling back I take a nipple between my lips, rub my teeth across it, suck it in, open my mouth as wide as I can and suck her flesh in, constantly flicking my tongue across the hard centre of it, feel it swell in my mouth.

A hand on the back of my head pulls me onto her until I can't breathe, I keep sucking against her, press my teeth down but don't bite, just gently pressing.

I push back against her, ease my face out of her flesh, take a breath. A circle around her areola is red, faint teeth impressions visible.

My hand on her skirt finds the zip, I tease it down between her buttocks, pull her skirt over her hips and down to her feet, she lifts them, one at a time, and her skirt joins the rest of her clothes behind her.

What a delicious sight.

The dark triangle of pubic hair visible through her black tights.

It seems that, when she'd left me and gone to the bathroom, she'd had clean tights but no knickers.

And these are just sheer, no gusset or seam: not very practical, but damned sexy.