Megan

"Where can I put your bag?"

"Just dump it in the bathroom. I'll deal with it later."

She walked past, and handed me a towel with a smile. "I'll put the kettle on," she offered.

"You're a life saver, Meg."

"Haven't heard that one before," she laughed.

I towelled my hair and face dry. "I can't do much about my clothes," I said. "I've got a spare top I can put on but I hope your furniture's wooden."

"It's not mine, so knock yourself out," she called from elsewhere in the flat. I pulled off my top and vest, and quickly dried myself off, before pulling my spare fleece on. I tried as hard as I could to dry my pants, but they were a lost cause. I'd just put the towel into what was clearly a laundry basket when Meg returned. I tried not to stare.

"Hope you don't mind," she said, "this is my day off lurk outfit."

I muttered something, still quite distracted by the sight of her in a vest, yoga pants and fluffy pink socks. I could not believe how shapely she was, or the fact that she was so evidently unselfconscious about it. She walked over to her kettle, and I couldn't help but watch her legs.

"White or black?" she asked, and I came back to where I was.

"White, please. No sugar though."

"Good, can't stand the stuff," she agreed. She brewed us both a cup of coffee, and put mine down on the table. "Welcome to Castle Meg, traveller," she said, sitting down across from me and indicating the empty chair.

I took the seat. "Thank you for the towel and the place out of the rain," I said. "My home isn't far but it's nice to spend more time with you."

She smiled over her cup. "I'm glad. I've enjoyed today. It's nice to know you're not a barfly."

"I was worried about giving that impression," I said. "You must get lots of attention there."

"You could say that," she sighed. "It's not that I mind it. It's just that... sometimes, you know, you just want to do your job, and go home, and get on with your life?"

"I know what you mean." I took a sip of my coffee. "Not that I have any experience in the matter, you understand."

"Oh come on," she laughed. "You're good looking, you must have girls all over you."

"No, you must mean Bob, my handsome twin. Girls are all over Bob. As for me, though... you're the first person to ever call me good looking."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"God's own truth."

She sat back in her chair. "Well. In that case, take it from me. You're handsome. You're sweet. And you're definitely easy on the eyes." She leered at me.

I smiled at her. "Flattery will get you nowhere, I am wise to your mischief."

She whistled innocently, then put her cup aside and stretched. I kept iron control and did not watch her breasts, even though the fabric of her shirt pulled tight across them. The white lace strap of her bra showed briefly on her left shoulder.

"I have no idea what to do with myself for the rest of the day now," she complained.

"What would you usually do on a day like today?" I asked.

"Probably spend it watching movies and eating junk food," she answered.

"Well, there you are then. Movies and junk food sounds like a great way to spend the day."

She grinned at me. "Are you in?"

"If I'm invited?" I asked, hopeful.

"You are," she said. "So long as you behave."

"I am exceptionally well-behaved," I declared. "People in other countries write to me, frequently, desiring my expertise and advice on the art of good behaviour. I was gifted a small Dacha outside Vladivostok for my efforts to better the behaviour of Comrades Pushkin and Brezhnev."

"Idiot," she laughed.

-

We sat, somewhat awkwardly, on her couch. I was extremely aware of her, so much so that the movie we were watching provided nothing more than an occasionally annoying backdrop that I stared at while my body craved her. I could smell her still damp hair, and hear the soft hiss of the blanket on her skin as she moved her arms. I snuck looks at her, and she appeared as distracted as I was.

I reached down to the bowl that lay between us for a chip, and ate it. She did the same. I reached down again, and took another chip, and ate it. She did the same again. She was grinning, she'd turned her head slightly to watch me. I reached down as if to take another chip, and she snatched it out from under my hand, laughing with glee as she pulled it out of reach.

"Give me that," I protested, as I mock-grabbed for it. She squealed, and leaned back way from me. I reached over and flailed at it, and she wriggled further out of my way, but as she did so I made one last lunge for the prize.

Suddenly, at the same moment we realised that I was lying on top of her. I could feel her hip pressed up against my belly, firm and warm.I froze, and she looked at up me, inscrutable. Then, slowly, maliciously, she brought her hand to her mouth and ate the chip, right there in front of me.

I laughed. I couldn't do anything else, and she did the same. "Mine!" she wheezed, after swallowing. I pushed myself up and off her, and then offered her my hand to pull her up. She took it, and I gently levered her upright. She glanced at me, seemed to consider something as she tucked her stray hair back, then moved the bowl out from between us. Slowly she slid over closer towards me, closing the gap between us until she pressed up against me as she had back on the hill.

"You're very quiet all of a sudden," she said, after a brief silence. Her thigh was warm, and I felt a driving urge to put my arm around her.

"I'm sitting next to a beautiful girl. After an awesome morning. I have no idea how I ended up here. So I'm desperately trying not to do something stupid," I said.

"Do you often do stupid things?" she said, as she squeezed her leg against mine.

"More often than not, recently," I said, trying to keep my voice level, and failing.

"You're really warm," she said quietly. "It must be nice."

"It has its moments," I managed. She looked at me a moment longer, then leaned her head against my shoulder. I felt her cool fingers find mine.

I sat, listening to her breathe, feeling her against me, conscious of the weird tightness in my chest and the ache in my groin.

"I don't want you to think that this is something I do, often," she said quietly. "In fact, it's not. I never do this. I haven't worked out why I'm doing it with you. I don't know if it's wise. It may be very unwise. I'm babbling."

"I don't mind. Your voice is lovely. I could listen to it nonstop."

"Shush, Meg is talking." she said. "Listen, Jamie, I don't know what it is... but you're so easy to be open with. I don't get that with many people. Don't abuse it."

I sighed. "Meg, I've known you three days. And in those three days I have not stopped thinking about you. I like you. I like you a lot. Today's walk has been the best thing I've experienced in more months than I care to think about right now."

I turned to look down at her, at the small smile, the faint blush on her cheeks.

"I'm glad I came home," I said, quietly. "Whatever this is, I'm glad for it."

She looked up at me briefly, but said nothing. And I answered her with the same silence, but when I took a chance and wrapped my arm her, she crawled in closer, and I was glad.

-

"I remember nothing of that film," she said, as we sat across from eachother at her table. The forecast rain was now pelting down outside, making it pointless to think of going anywhere else at present. So we sat and nursed our coffees, and I watched her as much as I felt was polite. And I thought I caught her watching me sometimes. We stepped gently around the tension between us. I wanted to touch her, to kiss her, but I didn't dare.

"What film?" I joked.

She smiled. "I feel like that too, to be fair. It's a pity, it's supposed to be quite good."

"I enjoyed my own show far more," I said quietly.

She sipped her coffee, and we listened to the rain.

"What is it that you are looking for?"

"Ideally, or pragmatically?" I hedged.

She smiled a small smile. "Pragmatically."

"A chance to see you again."

"You're aiming low," she said.

"You said you wanted a pragmatic response."

"Mm. Ok, I'll humour you. What's the ideal?"

"I need to whisper it, so you'll have to come closer," I said.

"Why a whisper?"

"You always whisper secrets."

Her mouth crooked into a grin, and she leaned forward over the table. I bent to meet her, and I took the biggest risk of my life by planting the lightest of gossamer kisses on her lips.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and I sat back in my chair.

"Well," she said breathlessly, "I wasn't expecting that. That's quite a secret. How long have you been holding onto it?"

"Honestly? Since that first morning when you blew past me on the bicycle."

"You make up your mind quickly."

"Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith."

She stood up, and dragged her chair around the table. She straddled it, resting her arms on the back, and looked at me.

"What?" I said, suspiciously.

"Wondering if I dare."

"Dare to?"

She reached out, stroking a finger down my jaw. "Take a leap of faith of my own." She took a deep breath. "This is crazy. I hardly know you."

"I hope I'll get a chance to change that."

"Mm. Odds are you will," she said. She watched me a brief moment longer. I gently placed my hand on her knee, and she shivered. "Cold, Meg?"

"Always."

I stood, took her hand, and pulled her gently to her feet, and from there into my arms, and it was all I'd imagined it would be. I felt my heart thumping, and heard her take a shaky breath as she wrapped her arms around me and burrowed in. She was almost my height, and it took very little effort for me to kiss her again. Slowly, I felt her relax, slowly she melted against me, shivering slightly. When I broke off to breathe, she sighed out against my chest, and tucked her head under my chin.

-

We'd moved back to the couch. I lay, holding her, listening to her breathing, unable to believe how happy the sound made me. Her head was pillowed on my arm, her back pressed against my belly, and my legs curled in behind hers. Rain beaded and spattered against the glass. Her hands were cool on the arm I had wrapped around her midriff, and I could feel each breath she took as if it were my own.

I felt her shift her hips slightly, and she sighed.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I asked.

"I'm enjoying this. Your arms are really comfortable on me."

"Mm," I agreed. "You fit me perfectly."

She shifted, pushing back slightly against me, and I watched the goosebumps form on the skin of the nape of her neck as my breath curled over it. I tried to ignore how hard I was, but there was no way for me to disguise it from her given how I was holding her. She hadn't commented, nor given any overt signal, but I knew she was aware of me.

She shifted again, then suddenly rolled over, first onto her back, and then onto her side, facing me. The soft swell of her breast was warm on my arm, and she tucked her nose into my neck, crawling in close. Her belly pressed hard against my groin, and my penis twitched involuntarily. I heard her laugh softly.

"Sorry," I breathed.

"Don't apologise. It's a natural reaction."

"It makes it a bit awkward is all."

"Why?" she asked, breathing the words into my chest.

"Convention, I guess," I answered after a while.

"Your body is just being honest about what you want," she demurred.

"Part of it, perhaps. But it's the proximity to you... all of you, that I want."

She was quiet for a while. Then, almost inaudibly, "Why?"

"Because you make me smile. Because I've laughed more today than I have in the last year. Because I haven't wanted anyone for a long time. Not until I saw you."

"Liar," she murmured. I could feel the grin. She nipped gently against my neck.

"Scout's honour," I breathed.

She lay still for a while, then I felt her hand on my hip, and she pulled me against her. I heard a slightly catch in her breath as she ground herself against me.

"You do want me, don't you," she breathed.

"Yes." It was pointless to try to deny it.

"You'll have to convince me why I should let you want me."

I pulled back slightly, to look down at her. She opened her eyes, tilting her head slightly, watching me.

"Remember, this is your fault," I said. She snorted, amused, and I took a deep breath.

"I was running up a mountain," I began.

"Hill," she corrected me.

"Mountain, when an incredibly hot, jaw-droppingly good-looking girl shot past me like a dervish on a bike, and gave me in passing a grin that stopped me in my tracks. I hadn't been grinned at by a pretty girl since the age of the dinosaurs, so gosh was I ever curious to find her."

"Describe this girl," she said, settling down.

"Tall. Slender. Lovely, heart-stopping, follow aimlessly across a street to be flattened by a bus figure, the kind that inspires sculptors to carve it in marble. Beautiful calves and legs and shoulders and neck. Eyes like... eyes like sparkling rain out of a sunny sky. A grin that speaks of secrets, of deep still water under wooded mountains."

She laughed at that, and I blushed. "Are you quoting Tolkein at me?"

"Shush. No. This is my own work. Lets see. Her hair... her hair is like bronze waves under the midday sun. Her arms are slender and graceful homage to the caryatids that graced the temple of Athena on the Acropolis. And she's got the raw sex appeal of a furnace hidden behind a dark door, so that the light only shines out when she lets it open."

Meg said nothing, just watched me.

"I don't know why I'm doing this," I said quietly. "I don't do casual. The last thing I can afford right now is a fling. I've fallen for you, hard. If you can deal with that, if you can take the leap of faith with me to see where this goes, you will make me the happiest man in England."

"I don't do casual either," she murmured. "You do things to me I never expected." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Jamie, I got out of a bad relationship. That's why I came here from the west. Serious poison apple stuff. I'm not over it, and I won't be for a while. This is your out. I really, really..." she continued, voice softening, "Really... like you. It's candy floss and puppy stuff. You are so gentle, so funny... you need to stop right now if you are not certain about what you're getting into."

"I have never been wise," I said quietly, and I pulled her hard against me. Her lips tasted of salt, and my heart thudded hard. She rolled over, partly on top of me, her breasts firm against me and one thigh pushed hard against me. I lifted my right knee, and she slipped it between her thighs.

I pressed against her, and felt more than heard the muffled moan she let out. I trailed my left hand down over her back, under her arm, and then let my finger brush accidentally against the side of her right breast. She shivered and bit my lip. "Naughty," she whispered, as she slowly pushed herself down against my leg.

I groaned, arching slightly against her, enjoying the pressure of her on top of me. She slumped forward, half onto me, and I felt the fingers of her right hand brushing down along my chest, down to my waist, then, soft as a feather, over the line of my engorged penis. I hissed a breath out, and again my cock twitched involuntarily.

"God, Jamie, you turn me on," she murmured.

"Pot, meet kettle."

"We need to slow down."

"That would be the responsible thing to do," I said.

"Mm. Are you hungry?"

"A bit, but it's not all that urgent right now..."

She smiled down at me. "We can pick this up again later. I need a breather or I may do something we regret." She levered herself off me, then offered me a hand up. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair in disarray; she looked utterly alive.

Without thinking, I pulled her against me, my penis bent to one side between us, and kissed her hard, demanding. She melted into me as I dropped my hands down her back to cup the cheeks of her bottom. She ground spasmodically as I pulled her against my body, seeming unconscious of her motion, stopping only when I dared a finger around her hip to her crotch, to stroke the gentlest, most distant extremity of her sex through the thin covering of her leggings.

Her eyes were wide, mouth slightly open, expression serious - she panted softly as she watched my face.

I pulled my hand back, self consciously adjusted myself, and was rewarded with a shy, almost girlish smile once I was done.

"You're trouble," she breathed. "Big trouble for this girl."

-

We moved companionably around Meg's small kitchenette; I fetched and carried and cleaned while she cut thin slices of bread and brie cheese, which she garnished with tomato and olive tapenade. We sat at her battered kitchen table, saying nothing, merely being. I watched rivulets of water stream on the kitchen glass, now misted slightly with condensation, and enjoyed the small movements of her shoulder and hip against mine. I held her in my arms as she washed up, and I could see her small, distracted smile reflected in the misted glass of the window. She set the last plate aside, spun, kissed me, and took my hand.

"Come," she said.

She led me past the couch, and into her small, disorganised bedroom. She kicked some laundry unselfconsciously into a corner, and then urged me down onto her bed beside her. I pulled the duvet over us, and then lay on my back with her nestled against my right side, her head pillowed on my chest and her breasts and thighs soft and warm on me.

"Thank you for lunch."

She smiled languidly. "Next time you make it and I'll hold you while you do."

"Promises, promises," I murmured.

Her eyes widened. "Truths, truths."

"I believe you," I said. "I don't know why, but I do."

"I'm very trustworthy," she said.

"And utterly delicious," I replied.

"Mm...", she said, squirming slightly against me. "This has been my best day off in a long time, Jamie."

She ran her hand gently over my chest, stopping to tease her fingertip around my hard nipple. Her eyes were languid, only party open, and the soft light darkened them to a deep blue-grey like the sea. Her hair tickled the skin on my arm, and that and the stimulation from her fingers had raised goosebumps all over me.

"What?" she said, amused, and I realised how intently I'd been watching her. I lifted my left hand, and traced the line of her jaw, then leaned in to slowly kiss her. Her lips parted, and she moved her hand around behind my left shoulder, pulling me against her. I cupped the back of her head gently, then stroked my fingers down the nape of her neck, turning my head slightly as I did so.

Meg pulled herself half onto me again, and once again I was blessed by the feeling of her breasts pressed against me. Then she lifted her right leg over me, and rolled fully on top of me.

She broke the kiss, braced herself on her elbows, and watched me; a wicked half-grin on her face as she pushed her belly down against my groin. I arched against her, and she whimpered, pushing down harder. She lowered herself onto me, her head cupped under my chin, and I felt her fingers stroking me through my pants.

"I can't believe how hard you are." she breathed.

"You make me hard," I whispered. "Your smell, your taste, the feel of you against me. All I can think about is how much I want you. How much I want to be in you."

She lifted her face and smiled at me. "Maybe you'll get your wish..."

She pushed herself off me, and sat back, her crotch pushed hard up against mine, the duvet bunched in folds over her thighs. I squirmed against her, and was rewarded with a slight gasp as I slid my cock along her barely covered groin.

Meg closed her eyes, and then in a slow, fluid movement, she pulled her vest up, over her head and free of herself, exposing a cute white bra dotted with small blue embroidered flowers. I reached up, then hesitated. "Go ahead," she breathed, taking my hands in hers and touching them to her breasts.