An Unlikely Encounter

She lay panting for a moment, eyes in his:

- Yes, it was. Man. Some more wine please?

He nodded, padded out to retrieve the bottle. Filled their glasses:

- I'm so glad you chose me. Slainthe.

- Cheers. Yes, I did choose you. But -- gulping her wine back in a oner -- you've only shown me part of what you can do. I want more.

- Me too. Need to fuck you. You're an amazing woman Samantha. You on the pill?

A nod. Her hand went to his erection:

- Enough playing about. Now. Want this in me.

He lifted her knees over his shoulders and drove straight into her, watching her eyes. Jesus. Beautiful wetness yielded to him. He wouldn't last long. Withdrew and plunged hard into her again. This was new to him, a woman who had challenged him for her own ends. Her face morphed as he fucked her, the aloof self-assured lady acquiescing to her carefully-hidden needs. He wanted to suck her breasts, but her arms went round his neck and their mouths merged.

Somewhere the moment overcame them; driving, twisting grunting sexneed, desperate for release in each other, fucking to fusion. And it came, explosion of fulfilment as her hips surged, beautiful inarticulacy, his spunk pumping into her. Her kiss became languid as her eyes fluttered open, his cock still in her depths. He allowed her legs to slip from his shoulders, drew his mouth from her, watching her face. Sank onto the soft strength of her torso:

- Jesus Samantha...

- No words Sandy. We don't need them. But thank you for a delectable fuck. I needed that.

No words indeed. No words from him, she meant. But he allowed her that discrepancy.

- I need to sleep, man. May I stay here? I'd like to wake with you, just this once.

- Of course. Glad you want to stay.

She turned away from him and was asleep in a few seconds. Lucky her. He rose carefully, wrapped himself in his winter robe, pulled on socks and slippers, and moved to the living room. Rolled a fag, finished the wine, poured himself a generous measure of Bell's. Picked up his novel, but his eyelids drooped after a few minutes. He slipped into bed beside her, sated by their unlikely encounter.

*****

She was up before him, crouched naked before the gas fire, breasts dangling lewdly. He struggled awake:

- Tea or coffee?

- I'm a tea-lady. D'you have Earl Grey?

- Matter of fact I do. Coming up.

He heard the toilet flush as he returned to the bedroom. She entered, statuesque, naked, stood sipping tea in front of the fire. For the first time she seemed unsure of herself:

- Do you have any commitments this morning Sandy?

- Not this morning, no. I have to catch the two o'clock to King's Cross though.

A nervous smile:

- Good. Plenty of time then. I err... I have some different sexual interests. Have always wanted to try something. You're a caring lover. Want to play something out with you.

- I'd love to explore your... interests with you.

- Thought you might. Good.

He watched as she moved to get something from her bag, lay on the bed on her back:

- Kiss my cunt Sandy. Make me cum.

He was trembling with excitement at her unstated 'interests' as he knelt between her legs to comply. The blend of her strong sex-taste and overnight sweat was delicious, and he lost himself in pleasuring her, suckling her clit as his fingers delved into her heat, felt her need rising, carefully increasing his ministrations. She wailed, clutching his head, and soaked his face. He withdrew slowly:

- Your interests...

She turned onto her face, her arse raised on her knees, gasping:

- Never ever had cock in my arse. Do me, but be gentle. I'm sure you've done it before? That's partly why I chose you.

Her fingers pulled the cheeks wide, exposing the puckered secrecy. He licked her and she writhed:

- Yes, done it before. Don't have any lube though, cept olive oil in the kitchen...

- I have. I've had toys in there, but never a live cock.

Her hand waved to the table by the bed: KY jelly. His cock surged and he grabbed the tube, squirted it on her inviting arse, fingered it into her, smarmed it on his erection. Both her hands were back on her cheeks, exposing her need to his. His cockhead pressed her there, felt her untighten, slid in. She moaned, clutched once his head was in her. He pressed further, slithered home. Now he was in, her hand snaked under her torso, cuntstroking.

He felt her loosen, thrust right into her slowly, measured and careful. His balls against her open cunt felt her fingers flicking in self-pleasure, accidentally stimulating his need. She groaned when he withdrew. More jelly on his cock, and it pierced her again. He was beginning to lose control, her stinky tightness drawing him in.

She panted:

- Ohfuck, need this, fill me. Need your cock...

He lost it. Ramfuck, her needs forgotten. His hand reached round to find her nipples, tugged. She was shaking now, fingers moving fast at her cunt, and he plunged, withdrew, plunged again and again. Felt her quiver under him as his balls tightened. Spunked her full, regretting she hadn't orgasmed. He remained hard in her as her fingers worked herself till she groaned and her arse tightened on his cock. And expelled him as she collapsed, finally done.

He sank beside her. Her eyelids batted open:

- Um, another boundary destroyed. I could get to like that. But -- she eased from his embrace -- I need a bath.

He opened his mouth...

- Alone, please. Will there be hot water?

- Aye. Leave the water though, there won't be enough for two, and I need to clean myself before I catch the train.

He organised brunch as she bathed. They ate in silence, she, clothed now, he in his gown.

- Make yourself more tea, please, my bath won't take long.

She was studying his books again when he emerged, dressed casually. The Who was on the stereo, 'Quadrophenia':

- Well fuck me Samantha, never imagined you'd be into The Who?

- There's a lot you don't know about me. -- glancing at her watch -- Mind if I see you off?

He shook his head:

- Please do, but you don't need to.

- I want to.

They barely spoke on the bus to the station, shivering tight against each other in the bitterness of January Edinburgh.

She kissed him at the carriage door on Platform One in Waverley, whispered:

- Only in Scotland could a station be named after a novel. Bye Sandy, and thank you. See you around. I look forward to your answer to my questions. In writing.