Room with a Secret Ch. 09

It was a casual conversation with Sophie, a few words about Mr Crowfoot and his house; nothing out of the ordinary. Jim, though, was more than a little interested when she remarked, "I wonder what it's like to sleep in the old house, perhaps on a stormy night with the roof creaking and groaning. Do you think there's a ghost?"

"I'm sure you'd be very welcome to stay. Mr Crowfoot has certainly not mentioned any hauntings. Nothing like that, nothing supernatural... in that way..." Jim found himself being hesitant. There was definitely something unexplained, something supernatural about the study. Jim did not understand it at all and neither did Mr Crowfoot - or so he said. It was certainly very peculiar the effect that particular room had upon women. Sophie was looking at him expecting him to say more. "No, no ghosts, no things that go bump in the night."

He did not forget the conversation and, as it transpired, it seemed she did not either.

Following the burglary, and notwithstanding the pleasant visit of WPC Cartwright, Jim could tell Mr Crowfoot was nervous and upset. He was worried about another visit from the burglar he had disturbed, a revisit with felonious intent to collect what he had been unable to do the first time. Jim suggested Mr Crowfoot should go away for a holiday to take his mind off such things, have a rest and return more settled.

"But that would leave the house wide open."

Jim said he would be happy to sleep there and protect it and organise better security arrangements - bars to windows and the like, perhaps a burglar alarm. And so Jim was left in charge not just of the house but the special room, the study.

"Don't do anything in the study I wouldn't," said Mr Crowfoot as Jim saw him off at Paddington railway station bound for Penzance.

The girls at the office were saddened to hear of Mr Crowfoot's intruder but were so sure Jim had made the right suggestion. They even offered to help Jim with his guardianship of the house and so Sophie and her husband come to stay. Jim had rather been hoping for just Sophie and Jenny. Not that Sophie's husband was bad company, only the study would have no influence over him. None at all. That rather spoilt things - spoilt what Jim had in mind. Sophie's ready suggestion to come and help was, no doubt, more than influenced by her earlier expressing a desire to sleep in the old house.

They came over at about seven o'clock and it proved a great evening. Jim as a bachelor was not a great cook and it was more Sophie than Charlie or he doing the cooking. A good dinner and plentiful conversation; the subject of ghosts was perhaps unwisely revisited, and Sophie certainly held tight to Charlie when they left Jim and went up to bed. Perhaps she was frightened or perhaps Sophie was feeling amorous. Jim sat in the kitchen a little longer wondering if upstairs the two of them were making love. Had Sophie been there alone or with Jenny for the evening then there would have been no question coffee would have been taken in the study and there would have been quite a bit of 'making love.' Jim shrugged his shoulders. Another time.

In the middle of the night, Jim awoke feeling the need to relieve himself. Outside the wind had got up a bit rather as Sophie had hoped. There was a hint of creaking about the house. As Jim walked back from the bathroom, he noticed Sophie and Charlie's door was ajar and he could discern a light down below the bannister rail. He went to investigate and found Sophie sitting in the kitchen. A mug of cocoa in hand. She has had trouble sleeping. They talked for a bit and then Sophie said what she really needed was a book to read. All at once Jim's thoughts returned to sex, there was a stirring in his pyjamas, he barely could contain his excitement as he, as casually as could be, suggested there were plenty - in the study.

He had not expected that when he came down to the kitchen. All the frustration of Sophie's husband turning up vanishing in the thought of what he might now do with Sophie in the study. Would it work for him without Mr Crowfoot? They got up from the table and Jim followed the young woman out into the hall and stood at the doorway of the study watching her looking at the books. How was he to find out if the study 'worked' for him? Slowly he closed the door behind him. The study looked just the same, the same comfortable feeling. Across the room, Sophie was standing with dressing gown wrapped tightly around her. Jim wondered what lay beneath - perhaps nothing. He stepped forward and behind the Chesterfield partly hiding himself. The penis in his pyjama bottoms was beginning to act as a tent poll. If the room did not work, he would not want Sophie to see that.

"Anything interesting. Anything that might help you sleep?"

Sophie turned and shrugged her shoulders.

"Do you often have difficulty sleeping?"

"No. Not usually"

"Is it the house, a strange bedroom?" Jim winced at his ineptitude, he was meant to be trying to find whether the study was having its usual effect, not make pleasant and concerned talk.

"I think it's because I'm pregnant."

"You are?" How stupid to say that. Of course, she was: she had just told him so.

"Don't tell anyone. It's early days. Don't know why I told you. Too soon."

"No, no, I'll keep it to myself. Any cravings already?" Perhaps a crass thing to ask; perhaps a rather male thing to ask; a male fascination with the strangeness of pregnancy, something men don't do. But it proved just the right question.

"No, not finding lettuce or carrots irresistible, but certainly sex."

"Oh, sex... err sex, really."

"Yeah, Charlie and I were like rabbits when we went up to bed. That's probably why I can't sleep. Too high!"

It seemed to Jim that Sophie was being encouragingly open, even uninhibited. She would not have told him all those things at the office. It was undoubtedly the room. He was sure of it, was going to be able to enjoy Sophie and, moreover, being pregnant she could not get pregnant... Well, yes, of course - she was pregnant already. Jim could fuck her to his heart's content and inseminate her with no risk of actually inseminating her. Charlie had done that job already! He had not been able to do that before.

"Would you like to be fucked again this night?" It was just a bit crude and basic and if the room was not having its effect Sophie would be shocked, but Jim could say he put it badly, what he could say he meant was if Charlie woke up and performed his marital duties again, would that help her sleep? He was, however, expecting the room to ensure Sophie's answer was honest.

"Wouldn't mind at all. I'm still so worked up. Though of waking Charlie but... he was sound asleep, and I didn't think I should. I even felt his cock, but it wasn't hard." Very matter of fact.

He stepped around the Chesterfield. There would be no way Sophie could miss the tenting of his pyjama bottoms. There was no hint of shock or upset. Better still Jim caught Sophie's eyes flicking down his body from face to his pyjama trousers. There was no missing Jim was strongly erect, no missing that at all, despite the intervening cotton between her eyes and the flesh.

This was the moment. Jim was as hard as a rock in his pyjamas. He was about to 'fly solo' without Mr Crowfoot's steadying hand. He swallowed. 'Here goes' he thought.

"I think you would like me to help you out. Would you like to suck my cock, Sophie?" How would his work colleague react? Surely all would be well.

Sophie nodded and Jim released it out into the open, out from his pyjama fly; it stood there, bulb swollen, foreskin retracted and almost vertical, sticking out from the striped cotton.

"Mmmm, it does look very, um..." the tongue across her lips said it all.

There was no need to worry. None at all.

"... cocky, meaty, fuckable!"

Wonderful words to hear from her lips. So good to see Sophie undoing the cord of her dressing gown and coming towards him as she did so. Underneath she had on a thin cotton nightie, her nipples were clearly visible beneath the material, pushing at the white cotton, a girl already fucked once that night but ready for more. She looked so good, so erotic in that thin nightie.

Sophie knelt in front of him - just the sort of thing he had imagined girls doing when he had been in his bed alone back before he had found Mr Crowfoot lying on the garden path. This, though, was real and the touch as she took him into her hand and then the soft wetness of her lips was simply perfect. He could see down into her nightie, see her breasts. What he could do if he had a limitless supply of cum, the ability to fuck again and again. If only the room gave men a minute or two only refraction time. If only he could get it up again so quickly and come again and again. Between Sophie's breasts, in her mouth, in her vagina - all sorts of places. But he only had the one shot. So not between or over those lovely breasts he could see; not within her mouth, however lovely that would be; but in her vagina - he would take advantage of her pregnancy and have sexual intercourse naked and for real. He would do what Charlie had done earlier.

"Is that nice, Sophie?" He reached down and slipped his hands into her nightie. Her breasts were warm and her nipples hard.

To speak she had to take it out of her mouth. "Yes, Jim, it is what I need. I like my breasts being touched. Do that whilst I suck."

Again, Sophie's lips closed over his knob, her tongue working as Jim squeezed and tugged at her nipples. Outside the blackness of the night through the windows. Two people up in the middle of the night all alone. Up to no good, really.

Jim lifted the girl up, off his cock, letting his pyjama bottoms fall, and pressed his body to hers, feeling her through the thin nightie, feeling the spring of her golden curls. He kissed her on the lips.

"Kiss me, Sophie, like you would Charlie."

Mouth to mouth, and with tongues in each other's mouth. Kissing like lovers do. Poor Jim had never had that first tentative teenage kiss, that first experimental kiss with a first girlfriend. He had never had a girlfriend - not one. Certainly rather more sexually experienced already, thanks to Mr Crowfoot, than perhaps most men of his age - at least in variety of women - but Jim had not experienced the rather softer, more tender, side of male/female relations. It was, though, good to take the place of Sophie's husband and be kissed like he would be kissed.

He felt Sophie's hand reach for him; he felt it close around his erection and gently stroke; not skin to skin but through the thin material of the nightie; Jim deliberately sheathed in the material as her hand exercised him. Reaching down his hand went under the hem and upwards, to her curls and sex. Two apparent lovers kissing and petting, stroking each other's sexual parts, encouraging arousal and moving both towards orgasm. It would have been lovely to let Sophie bring him off like that, to ejaculate on, into, even through, her nightie; to leave a large trace of him there as she went back to bed, a large sticky wet patch as she climbed back into bed with her husband; there as she drifted into sleep with him, perhaps cuddling him, maybe the wet patch against him; thinking when she came to wash the nightie another day that it had been her husband who had left that rather 'starched' patch.

Jim wondered if she would stare at the patch by the washing machine trying to recall how it had got there. Had it dripped from her one night as she slept - but it was on the front of the nightie; had Charlie been naughty with her whilst she slept - what a bad boy he was. This was all Jim's imagining and he did not know if it had ever happened, whether Charlie had actually come against her as she slept; might she, perhaps, have done something very similar to Charlie one night in bed. Found his penis hard against her in the night and wanked it whilst her husband slept, easing him (forcing him?) into a wet dream. Was that what Sophie might do? Was that what women would do? Certainly he could imagine if he was married or had a girlfriend and awoke in the middle of the night and found her bare bottom against him he would not only erect but be so tempted to rub and release; or resting his hand upon her and finding her thighs apart might he not slide his fingers just to have a bit of a feel. Discovering his girlfriend wet might he not frig her, hoping she might wake and fuck but happy to see if he could really bring her off whilst she slept.

But Jim did not want a wet patch on Sophie's nightie - not directly. Her pregnancy gave him the opportunity to fuck and fuck he was going to do. A whisper in her ear, "Sophie, are you ready?"

An affirmative reply breathed into his ear and, with it, Jim discovered just how erotic, just how pleasurable a tongue licking within his ear could be. He pulled his nightie enclosed penis from Sophie's hand to avoid imminent spurting stains and, of course, to ensure he could do the planned fuck.

Jim led Sophie to the Chesterfield, that large and firm three-seater sofa, so very much the scene of much of his apprenticeship with Mr Crowfoot. Should he remove her nightie? He chose not to, rather to simply lift it up around her neck, not fully undressing her but just making her body available. So easy to do - what a useful, practical garment! Sophie was smiling at him, almost giggling in a conspiratorial fashion, "I shouldn't be doing this. What would Charlie say?"

She was not having second thoughts - it was not what the room allowed - just being a little matter of fact.

"You are pregnant, Sophie, I can't make you pregnant can I, so it doesn't matter at all. You said you needed a fuck and I'm here. Perhaps later, when we're done, you can go back to bed and fuck Charlie again. Lots of cocks for you! If Mr Crowfoot was here..."

"Oh, he wouldn't; the nice old man. I don't suppose at his age he can get it up. Not like..." Her eyes dropped to Jim's standing erection as she settled herself down on the Chesterfield and opened her thighs in invitation. Such a sight, that lovely oval shape with its special little passage at the centre - for cocks to slide in and move rhythmically.

Should he go down on her in turn, give his penis a bit of a chance to recover from its recent stroking within the cotton nightie. He licked his lips.

"Oh, would you please, I'd so like that."

Kneeling on the leather, Jim leant forward. Sophie's scent was strong - but of course she had been fucking earlier and was well aroused. He kissed and then engaged with Sophie in somewhat the same manner as he had with her upper lips. There was no tongue to come out and greet his - how strange would that be! But he 'French kissed' nonetheless, pushing his tongue into her 'mouth.' Maybe women do not like men holding the backs of their heads when they are fellating, do not like being forced down to 'take' more and more cock. No one wants to choke. But that did not seem, as far as Sophie was concerned, apply to men. Her hand came to the back of his head, forcing him deeper into her; her thighs closed upon him shutting out sound. No risk of choking but perhaps asphyxiation!

Eventually he was allowed up for air. Gasping a little he knelt looking at the girl, a dreamy look upon her face.

"I've come. Mmmm. Lovely. Now fuck me, fuck me with your big cock, Jim." Her hand reached to guide; it gave an added eroticism to Jim - not him entering her but being put within her by the girl. She guiding - putting - his penis into her. So wet, so slippery, so very easy to slide in right up to the hilt - not so much the guard, grip and pommel of the sword sliding into its scabbard as his balls being his hilt. They swung against her as he slid 'home.' Wonderful - Jim's penis completely naked inside Sophie. It would not be coming out again until it released its semen. Jim could imagine, if he wished, that he really was seeking to inseminate her and make her pregnant. The idea of it! Sophie growing larger and larger, her stomach expanding. Charlie thinking it was his but all the time Jim knowing otherwise. In the office the girls talking excitedly of the 'happy event' having no idea the real father was there in the room with them.

But Charlie was the father and Jim was merely enjoying himself - and he was, very much. So good to feel Sophie undoing the buttons of his pyjama top so his skin was upon her skin, the hard points of her nipples against his chest (and, of course, the 'hard point' of his penis in turn sliding away deep in her body). Her mouth upon his mouth as he raised and lowered his bottom, thrusting at the girl. Just so good. Just such a thing to be doing in the silence of the night and Mr Crowfoot's study.

All good things end, and Sophie and Jim's depth of the night copulation was no exception. Sophie's hand creeping over his balls did it for him, holding the soft, wrinkled, floppy sack and his so fertile testes. He could not stop the insemination unless he removed himself - and he did not do that! Splash, splash, splash he went as, no doubt, Charlie had done earlier.

They rested, Jim atop and within Sophie, their genitalia very much as one. Perhaps upstairs the cuckold was snoring. Would he shortly be woken to perform once more or would Sophie slip in beside him, turn the bedside light on and quietly read? Jim would not know. It was time, though, to send her on her way and return to his own lonely bed. Jim got up off the Chesterfield and up off Sophie.

"You wanted a book, Sophie, how about this one?" 'Three Men in a Boat' again.

The girl took it.

"Time for your bed, Sophie. I am so pleased for you. Pregnant indeed. I won't tell anyone your secret."

The girl rose letting the nightie fall back down over breasts and down over hips. Book in hand, she bent to pick up her dressing gown letting the nightie ride up and give that delightful peak of nether lips and bottom men so enjoy. Nether lips looking rather sticky; and, Jim was amused to see, already, close to the hem of the nightie there was a wet patch. Sophie would be going to sleep with some of his semen on her nightie just as he had imagined. Perhaps in the night more would trickle out. Charlie's 'starch - or that was what Sophie would think;' it was an amusing thought.

"Night Sophie, I hope the cocoa, sex and the book helps you sleep."

She turned and smiled. "It was just the fuck I needed. Thank you, Jim."

"Anytime, Sophie." He lifted his limp penis. "Always available to you."

But as the door closed behind her Jim knew within a few seconds all would be forgotten. Sophie would not remember the fuck or having ever seen Jim's cock or that anything at all had happened in the study. Certainly not about its ready availability.

Breakfast was a little strange for Jim. He cooked it quite well, but it was being there at the table with Charlie as well as Sophie and knowing just what he had been doing with Sophie during the night whilst Charlie slept. Seeing them being husband and wife together. Charlie's hand touching Sophie not with amorous intent or lust but simply out of affection. Touching her hand or her shoulder, even a kiss to her cheek. Jim felt a bit of a cad (or worse) for having misused Sophie the night before... and other days. He knew she was pregnant but had to be careful not to reveal his knowledge. Did Charlie even know? Had she told him? Certainly, she would not remember having told Jim.

Jim left them sitting at the breakfast table because he had an appointment at the barbers. The plan for a leisurely day. Sophie talking of a long bath. Jim wondered with him out of the house whether it might be a long bath for two. Mr Crowfoot's bathroom was rather old fashioned, and the bath had room enough for more than one. He would like to have been invited to watch that. A strange thing to be invited to watch - a couple playing around with the soap and then copulating in a bath - but how pleasant! How nice if a couple did invite a friend to watch, sit in the corner and wank. Just so unlikely with Sophie and Charlie - not least because they thought Jim was gay.