London Girl

"You're the grown-up version of the friend I made all those years ago. You've grown up, but you haven't changed much."

I snorted. "Yes I have."

"Not in the ways that matter," he quietly disagreed.

"So what about you?" I asked, sipping my wine. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Pretty much as you see me," he answered.

"No no, you don't get off that easily," I protested.

He chopped a carrot, then set down the knife. "I started getting wanderlust when I was twenty five. Nothing in my life was interesting. The friends I had were mostly incidental. The girls I dated were more interested in my family's wealth than in me as a person. I got tired, Jo. I decided I had to find somewhere new. London's a staging point for that; I don't know where I might end up, but I'm here for the foreseeable future, and right now I'm just a twenty-eight-year old guy who's cooking dinner for his cousin."

"On that note, what are you making?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"Venison with a red wine jus," he answered. He sipped his wine, then set the glass aside. "Amongst other things."

"Can I hire you?"

He laughed. "Why?"

"Supper for me is almost always something like pasta with a sauce out of a can. I only ever eat fancy food on the odd occasions I can stretch my budget to go out. My kitchen is tiny, and to be honest I've never been much of a cook."

"Food is the spice of life," Andy observed. "I love cooking, and I'm happy to play chef for you whenever you want the company."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," I warned him. "I'll be here every night."

"As I said, Jo, there's a spare room."

I toyed with my wine glass and watched him as he cubed vegetables.

"You really are spoiling me," I murmured.

"You look like you could use a bit of honest spoiling," he quietly replied. Then he looked up. "Sorry, that was rude."

"No, it was true," I sighed. "Life in London can be grim, Andy."

"Then it's your job to take advantage of any unexpected happiness that comes your way. So take my offer."

I met his gaze, then looked aside, flushing.

.:.

I sat on the soft leather couch, feet tucked under me, and watched as Andy cleaned up. He moved with a light-footed grace, and through the gentle haze of wine I daydreamed about him. I felt warm, and safe, and strangely content. The flat was light and airy, and the gentle domestic noise of Andy's movements lulled me.

"Sorry?" I murmured, as I realised he'd said something.

"I said, would you like some dessert or coffee?"

"Not right now, Andy, thanks. I'm really happy right where I am."

"You looked like you were almost ready to nod off," he observed, amused.

"I was," I confessed. "This flat is lovely. It's so nice and quiet. And it's so nice to feel well-fed, and ever so slightly sozzled on good wine."

Andy packed away the last plate and closed the dishwasher. He grabbed his wineglass and the wine bottle, and came to sit down next to me. "Cheers," he murmured.

"Thank you for this," I said, softly.

"You're welcome, Jo. I wasn't joking earlier when I said you looked like you needed it."

"You weren't wrong, either," I murmured. "It's been a long time since someone... no, that's not fair, Sophie does, but you know what I mean when I say it's different, right?"

"It's different," he agreed.

I nodded. "It's been so long since I had anyone around me, Andy. So long... I'd forgotten what it felt like."

"It must be hard here, on your own."

"It can be." I stared at the reflection of the lights in my wine. "London is... London is isolating for me. Some people love it here, they have the nature that takes them outside and out into new social groups. I don't. Sophie's my only real friend here."

"Up till now," he smiled.

"Yeah. Up till now."

"Do you want to have a look at the view?" he asked.

"From the balcony?"

"Might as well. It's a calm night."

I pondered. "Yeah, why not. Might as well enjoy it while we can."

.:.

We leaned on the railing, staring down at the city lights. I huddled into my coat, and Andy had once more wrapped his scarf around me before he'd donned a jacket of his own.

"It's a beautiful city by night," I murmured. "Paris has more charm, and the Eiffel tower of course, but London is still beautiful."

"I suspect it depends on the mood of the observer," he replied. "I found Paris dull. But I was there alone."

"I loved Paris. The Louvre, Notre Dame, the Seine. But I think I spend so much time in my own head that it was natural for me."

"I can't believe you're single," he observed after a moment.

I laughed, surprised. "That came out of nowhere."

"No, I'm serious. You're this amazingly complex, fun woman. I struggle to understand why you're so intent on remaining alone."

"I'm not a party girl, unless evil Sophie is in attendance. I love my books, and my me time... and somehow between that and work I just don't seem to have time or energy to go out and try to meet someone who's not just interested in something cheap and messy."

"You've made a lot of time today," he said, glancing at me.

"It's different. You're... different. You're easy. I don't struggle to understand you. I feel like I... know you."

"You do," he said, turning to face me. "I don't feel like I've changed much from the boy I was."

"You're hotter," I murmured, unthinkingly. Then I blushed as he laughed.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," he grinned, sipping his wine. "But thanks for the compliment."

"It was an honest one," I protested. "My big mouth, but it's true. You're really good looking; Sophie's going to eat you up. So are the rest of the London girls."

"I'm not sure I want to be the main course," he said, amused.

"Dessert, then?" I smirked.

"So long as it's not an appetiser," he retorted.

We stood in silence for a moment, and then he turned again, and put his arm around me. I shivered. He felt so real, so solid next to me, and I felt an ache deep in me.

"You ok?" he asked, quietly.

"Tired," I bluffed. "It's been a long year, Andy." I leaned into him, letting my head rest against his shoulder and taking comfort in the feel of him, teasing myself with my foolish desire.

"Tell me about it," he muttered.

We watched a passenger jet as it banked above us onto its approach to Heathrow. Then I looked up at him. "Thank you for tonight," I said. "You've really made it a good day for me. But I need to be getting home."

He glanced down at me. "Nonsense, Jo. The spare room is yours."

"I have no clothes," I protested.

"I'll lend you a tee shirt and some tracksuit pants." Andy turned to face me. "I'd appreciate the company, you know."

I looked up at him. "Well, ok," I murmured, "but I hope you have supplies for breakfast."

He smiled. "There's a Waitrose just across the road. I'm sure I can find something there that you'll approve of."

We turned and walked back into the flat, and once more I took up station next to him, my legs tucked under me. He topped up my wine, then leaned back against the couch's backrest. "So..." he started.

"So," I agreed, grinning. "Now you're in a pickle. You've run out of topics, and you're stuck with me for the evening."

"I'd hardly call it stuck," he smiled. "I enjoy your company, even when we're just being quiet."

"Ditto," I murmured. "Don't you think it's strange that we've picked it up so quickly, with no awkwardness?"

"Perhaps... but birds of a feather, after all."

"True." I sipped my wine. "I find it really strange that there was never a girl who was with you just because it was you."

He sighed. "I think I was just unlucky, but whenever they found out about my family, it became this huge thing. I was always the one who paid, the one who funded. I wouldn't object... except that it became expected. And that irritated me."

"You might have the same problem here," I murmured. "London is mercenary in that regard. People can smell money here, and there's a particular class of woman who just wants to get her claws into someone wealthy and never have to work again."

"And you?"

I shook my head. "I pay my way. I hate freeloaders. People need to take responsibility for themselves, if they can."

"Mm," he agreed. "Well, I hope I didn't offend you earlier today."

I smiled. "Never. You were being gallant, looking after your poor, starving cousin."

"In my defence, you seemed to enjoy it. I don't recall much in the way of protest."

"I couldn't resist your charm."

Andy laughed, and I grinned at him. Then, feeling strangely daring, I slipped my legs out from under me and leaned back next to him, shifting closer and turning slightly so I could watch him while resting my head on the backrest of the couch.

"Those women were stupid," I murmured after a while.

"That's an understatement," he snorted.

"No... I mean... you're kind, and gentle, and gentlemanly." I glanced down, away, shy. "It's rare to meet someone as nice as you are."

"I just try to be decent."

"Many men don't. Especially the city crowd. Oh, they're nice enough, and charming... but it's all about getting you into bed, chalking up a notch, and moving on."

"And that's not what you want?"

"Would you?"

He shook his head. "No. I want intimacy. Someone I can trust. Someone who will be there no matter what."

"See? Sometimes it feels like it's too much to ask for."

"No, it's not," he said, turning to face me. "But finding the person is hard. I think many people end up settling for something... lesser."

"I don't want to settle," I murmured. "I want my knight in shining armour."

"Is that your fantasy?" he grinned. "To be swept off your feet and carried off into the sunset?"

"Maybe not into the sunset," I sighed. "But a little bit of romance wouldn't hurt."

"And your idea of romance is..."

I looked down at my lap. "This is. What you've been doing to me today is what I want."

"All I've been doing is looking after you, Jo."

"You really have no idea how special a man you are, Andy," I murmured. "Gentleness. Consideration. Kindness. They run through you like gold thread. You make no demands, you just give and give and give. No wonder you got tired of being taken advantage of."

"You have a very rose-tinted view of me."

"No," I disagreed, as I touched his hand. "I'm maybe a little biassed because you're my cousin and you've been so good to me. But I can see it's not a facade. I can see you, Andy. And you're a good man."

He took a quiet sip of wine, and stared at his glass.

"I wish there were more men like you," I sighed.

Andy smiled and nodded. "I wish there more women like you."

"Quiet, stay-at-home wallflowers with no future?"

"Warm, kind, passionate, and beautiful both outside and within."

"Now who's got the rose-tinted glasses," I murmured, flushing.

"Or maybe I'm just able to see more clearly." He paused. "Hey," he said, quietly. I felt him brush my fringe from my eyes, and I took a shuddering breath as I tried to meet his gaze.

"Stop selling yourself short, Joanna. You're special. Believe it."

I smiled bitterly. "Easy to say, hard to do."

"Would you like some coffee?" he asked, after we'd spent some time with our thoughts.

"I need to shower. It's been a long day."

"There's a bath," he offered. "A big one. And endless supplies of hot water."

"Where? I only saw a shower in the bathroom?"

"Come," he said. He stood, and offered me his hand. "I'll show you."

Andy led me through the flat to the master bedroom. He opened a door, and stepped aside. "Voila," he murmured.

"Holy shit. That's not a bath, that's a swimming pool."

"It's all yours. I'll get you some towels."

.:.

"No peeking," I told him jokingly as I closed the door.

"I'll leave your pajamas on the bed," he smiled in answer.

I listened to his footsteps as he walked down the hall. Then I stretched the kinks out of my back and tested the water. I unbuttoned my blouse and my skirt, hanging both over a towel rail so that I could wear them in the morning. I slipped off my panties and unclipped my bra, dropping them to one side.

I stepped into the bathtub, slipped into the water and lay back against the backrest with a sigh. Baths were a rare luxury, and this one was amazing. I slid further down, letting the hot water rise up my ribcage and over my breasts; tender after the long day.

Music came faintly from the entertainment room; Andrew had turned on the sound system and was listening to classical pieces. I recognised Holst and smiled to myself; my musical knowledge was limited but I loved to listen to it to wind down, and it seemed Andy was the same.

I rubbed my arms and massaged my breasts and shoulders gently, sighing as I felt some of the tension of the day draining. Outside, Holst became something Baroque, and I slowly soaped myself up, amused at the way goosebumps crawled down my arms as I spread the lather over myself. I reached down, intending only to clean myself, but somehow the haze of wine twisted my action and almost before I knew it I was languidly touching myself.

And as I did, I realised just how horny I was.

I breathed out slowly; arching back against the porcelain, sliding down further under the surface. I spread my legs slightly, pressing off the end of the bath as I teased a finger of my right hand into me. I slowly started to slip it in and out of my pussy, breathing deeper, groaning softly in my throat as I felt the texture of my fingertip against my silky inner lips and against the tight muscles of my entrance. I started to gently stroke the index finger of my left hand, slowly, back and forth around the base of my clit as I teased my middle finger in and out, wishing it were a hard penis, wishing there was a muscular guy in me, crushing me under his weight and taking me.

It had been so long, so long I'd almost forgotten what a cock felt like in me, and I craved it; I craved everything that came with sex and the intimacy it entailed. Touch. A man's lips on my breasts, his tongue on my lips, his cock thrusting into me.

I shuddered; head backwards against the rim of the bath, uncaring now of the strands of my hair trailing in the water, desiring only the sweet release of an orgasm. I could feel myself building, closer and closer, plateauing... aching, gasping small breaths of air as I drove my hand into myself, feeling the joints of the second finger I added to myself spreading me as they slipped in and out of my aching vagina.

I convulsed as it took me, mouth agape, trying not to cry out or give myself away. I squeezed my eyes shut as I tortured myself through the quick, intense spasms in my belly and pussy before I slowly, cautiously relaxed back against the porcelain; my body warm, lethargic - sated for the moment.

I wished it had been him.

.:.

Andy had left me a dark cotton top and some tracksuit pants, and I discarded my towel and pulled them on. I carried my clothes through to the spare room and left them on the bed. Then I dug a hair-band out of my handbag and tied my damp hair into a straggly ponytail, pulling the door closed behind me.

He was sitting quietly on the massive leather couch, and he smiled as I reappeared.

"Good bath?"

"Exactly what I needed. Absolutely perfect," I murmured. "What have you been up to?"

"Listening to music, chilling, drinking," he said. "This couch is a good place for reflection."

"Mm," I agreed, as I sat down next to him once more. "Thank you for the sleepwear."

"I hope it fits well enough."

"It will do," I shrugged. "It's clean and comfortable and that forgives many ills." I picked up my wineglass, and Andy leaned forward to reach for the bottle. "No," I murmured, "this is enough for now. I don't want to get silly."

I took a sip of wine, then set my glass down so I could stretch and then briefly rubbed my neck and shoulders. "God, I'm glad this week is over."

"You look like you need a holiday."

"I need a new life of idle luxury. Preferably involving that bath tub of yours."

"You need that like you need a hole in the head. Idleness would ruin you."

"I wouldn't mind the opportunity to prove that it wouldn't," I murmured.

Andy snorted. I twisted my head to one side and then the other, trying to stretch the last of the tension out of my muscles.

"Sore?" he asked, softly.

"Tense. As I said, long week."

"Want me to see if I can do anything about it?"

"What?" I glanced at him.

"I can give you shoulder massage... if you'd like? How does that sound?"

"You give massages. Of course you give massages. I should have expected it. You're just getting worse and worse, you know. Bloody white knight."

He laughed. "So you don't want one?"

"I didn't say that. Where do you need me?"

"What's best for you?" he asked.

"I will contort myself into any position you require... but I warn you, if it's not good I'll be sad." I pulled a cushion free of the sofa, and slid it onto the floor. "Here. I'll sit here. Does that work?"

"If it works for you, it works for me."

I slipped off the couch, and sat on the cushion, leaning back against the sofa seat. Andrew set his wine aside, and kicked off his sneakers. He pulled his legs up onto the couch and slid over behind me. I took a nervous breath, and then twitched like a dumb sixteen year old as I felt his long, cool fingers on my neck.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"No, don't apologise," I breathed. "Just took me a little by surprise."

He slowly drew his fingers down along my neck and to my shoulders, and I felt goosebumps crawl after them. I let my head flop forward, sighing as he started to gently rub my shoulders. I tried to sit up straighter, but he pulled me back against the sofa.

"Relax," he murmured. "Tense up and you'll bruise. Just relax."

"Easy for you to say," I whimpered. "Been years since I had a shoulder rub. Anticipation is killing me."

I heard his soft laughter, and then he started to work on the area around my collarbones; kneading, digging at the knots in my muscles, trying to get them to release.

I moaned.

"God, Andrew. God, that's nice."

"Good." I heard him take a breath, and then felt his legs on either side of me as he shifted so that he could apply more pressure with his palms. He worked his hands slowly inwards along my shoulders, alternating pressure and release, encouraging my muscles to unwind.

At some point I think I started drooling, and I let my head flop over to lean against his warm, firm thigh.

"How's it going?" he asked, leaning hard on me, digging in.

"Wonderful. Your hands are wonderful." I managed. "Please don't stop."

"Mm, they're cramping slightly. I'll need a break in a bit."

"Damnit," I murmured. "Best shoulder massage ever and he needs a break."

"You're pretty tense," he retorted. "Takes a lot of energy."

"Life with no man makes me tense. No outlet."

"Uh huh. How so?"

I rolled my head back to look up at him. "I'm sure a bright boy like you can imagine why a girl needs a guy."

"Oh? Oh."

I laughed at the shamefaced way he shook his head.

"Sorry Jo, not always the quickest on uptake."

"I forgive you," I grinned, "so long as you give me another shoulder rub, sometime, maybe."

"Any time," he breathed, as he released me. I let out a deep, shuddering sigh and sat up straighter, stretching my arms up above me. Then, hesitantly, I leaned back against him again, shivering as he reached out to gently rest his right hand on my shoulder.

"Cooks great, backrubs great, smiles great... is there anything you can't do?"

"I'm really bad at strip-poker, and I'm a terrible dancer."

"Join the club," I snorted. "I dance like I'm on drugs. Bad ones."

Andy gently rubbed my shoulder, and I squeezed my legs together against the building ache.

"What're you thinking?"

I sighed. "Secret thoughts."