Such a Night

Mike Spar was only going to be in Sweden for twenty four hours. At thirty five, being one of the youngest yet most highly regarded archaeologists in the world had its drawbacks. Whereas it gave him the chance to view hitherto unknown parts of the world, it did make a drag on his time, when he was called on to provide his experience. Today would be no exception.

Much of his fame had come from his unearthing ancient sites in his own country but also as far afield as South America and China. Now, seated on the train out of Stockholm he was dreading that his time would be spent with a group of inexperienced student types, although the grey whiskered professor back at the university seemed to have a great deal of faith in them.

Outside of the window, he watched the rising hills and the pine clad mountains roll past. It was a beautiful country, but he was keen to get back home to attempt to establish his relationship with Angela, a biochemist, he had recently met. They had got nowhere physically as yet, but Mike was fairly confident that his own powers of seduction would soon overcome that.

But for now he was on his way north to show three young aspiring archaeologists how to set up the initial exploration of a tribal village that had appeared when builders started preparing foundations for a housing estate.

When the train pulled into his destination Mike took a taxi to the hotel where his room was small but comfortable. Since there was still some light he decided to catch a taxi out to the proposed site, so that he would have some idea of how to guide these three people. He found that there was only a small sections of stone jutting at a couple of points where the diggers had disturbed the surface. But he did some pacing out in preparation for what he might show these three beginners.

Next morning he had just finished a tasty breakfast when he was told that the three had arrived. Mike went to meet them and his first impression was one of surprise. For one thing the three, two women and a man, were older than he had expected, the man was twenty six and the two women weren't much younger.

The next thing to strike him was, that the warm covering of thick anoraks and woolly hats could not disguise the shining good looks of the two women. They both had full lips, high cheek bone, and blue eyes that made them extremely attractive.

The handsome young man, Eric. introduced the two ladies as Greta and Agneta, and once again, Mike was surprised at how good their English was. Mike felt a strange buzz as both ladies regarded him with an open, mind probing gaze.

Soon though they were engaged in a discussion of how the day might go. Mike was pleased to learn that they had plenty of archaeological experience working on a considerable number of other sites, but those sites had always been well established. The ladies in particular showed considerable excitement at setting up a completely new site. They seemed rather impressed to learn that Mike had already viewed the location.

"Not much to see, is there?" Agneta stated.

"You're going to have a lot of work on your hands," Mike agreed, and quickly added, "but I'm sure you'll find it very rewarding."

Mike looked towards Greta, who had looked as though she had been about to speak, but she smiled and that was something of a delight in itself. He was sure it was going to be a very pleasant, if bitterly cold day.

Within ten minutes they were in a taxi being taken out into the wilds, where the site lay close to a frozen stream.

For the next few hours Mike enjoyed showing them how to set about preparing and establishing the area that the settlement had covered. The three were all keen to hear of his methods and appreciated his advice. In his view, he was struck by their enthusiasm for the job in hand, and the sensible questions they asked. They were not at all what he had expected.

At lunch time they settled behind one of the builders diggers, to be out of the chill wind, and tucked into the delicious snacks supplied by the hotel. Eric, Agneta and Greta each spoke of how they had qualified and gained an interest in this particular field of the sciences.

At one point Greta, chewed delicately on a morsel, in a manner which Mike found intriguing. Then she asked about where he lived, and whether his wife minded him being away for long periods of times. When he told them there was no wife, he could not avoid noticing the glance the two women exchanged.

Eric observed, "I guess that's the best way to be." He grinned at the two women, as Agneta responded, "You would think that, wouldn't you?"

The three laughed in a manner that suggested that this was some private joke that he was excluded from.

They continued their research of the whole area throughout the afternoon, moving around vigorously as possible to exclude the chill of the air.

At last the taxi arrived to take them back to the hotel. His new companions went straight up to their rooms after agreeing they would meet for the evening meal at seven thirty. Mike went for a swift shot of whiskey at the small bar. Then he went up to his room, had a shower, and managed a quick nap on the cosy bed.

At seven thirty he was seated in a booth in the dining room, which was only half full. The two women appeared first, each wearing thick winter shirts and tight fitting jeans which, for the first time gave a clear indication of what trim figures had been hidden beneath their earlier lumpy outer wear. Even more striking was the blonde hair that they each displayed, cut to just above their shoulders.

As they sat down in the seats opposite Mike, Agneta told him that Eric had fallen asleep and was now some five minutes behind them. Mike, looking admiringly at the way the two women filled their respective shirts, Agneta in blue, Greta in green checks, had to ask the question that had come into his mind earlier.

"Are you two sisters?"

Greta laughed, "Whatever made you think that?"

Mike shrugged, not slow with paying a woman a compliment, "You seem to share a natural beauty."

Agneta bowed her head, in an act of false modesty, "Oh, thank you kind sir."

At that moment Eric arrived, looking very refreshed, and soon they were tucking ito a delicious meal of peppered beef, with parsnips, carrots ad sweet potato. To wash it down they had two bottles of good Chardonnay.

After a chocolate sweet in a delicious white sauce, they had coffee, when not surprisingly, Mike found himself being bombarded with questions about his discoveries in the Mayan temples he had unearthed.

After they had ordered another two bottles of wine, he wondered if it was his imagination that, whenever Greta asked him a question, or commented on something he had said, her eyes appeared to linger on his for just that rather unsubtle extra moment.

He decided that it had to be his imagination. After all he had been in the company of the three for the whole day, and knew from past experience that attraction to a fine looking female was always there to be sparked.

With the wine all consumed and their talk becoming more ribald, Agneta suddenly glanced at her watch and declared, "Five past ten. I think I'm ready for bed."

Mike was sorry to hear that, as he had been enjoying viewing the beauty of the two women. Anyway, with the geneal agreement of the others they left the dining room and walked together up to the first floor where all the bedrooms were situated.

As they moved onto the corridor, Mike was a little shocked to see that Eric and Agneta were walking with their arms around each other, snuggled quite intimately together. There had been no indication of that during the day. They reached a room door where Eric waved his card and as he and Agneta moved inside, he called, "Good night, you two, see you at breakfast."

Mike stood there, just a little stunned, and as he heard Greta's chuckle behind him he turned towards her smiling face.

"You look surprised, Mike, but they're a couple. They've been partners for nearly two years. Why do you think Agneta was so keen to get to bed?" For a second Mike wondered if he had misread something in the glance she had given him as told him.

Unexpected thoughts were beginning to tumble into his head, and those thoughts weren't given long to simmer as they reached a door on the opposite side of the corridor. Greta held up her card, and said huskily, "My door. Have you any feelings for being partners for one night? It has been a good day."

Mike's mind was seething with disbelief. Thirty five years old, a number of female conquests, including an ex-wife, the lovely Angela, a warm prospect back home, but never had he been propositioned by a woman so directly.

Seeing that lovely face in front of him, he could tell that she had no qualms about asking the question. Her eyes were wide, blue and bold as she awaited his answer.

"I'm sorry. I appear to have shocked you."

Mike shook his head, "Not shocked. Surprised, maybe." Angela was just a future prospect as he drew in a deep breath before adding, "But your suggestion has much appeal."

"Good," she said flatly, and waved her card at the keypad. As the door opened she stepped inside and held out her hand to him. Taking it, Mike immediately found Greta clinging to him, her arms holding him tightly, her lips searching for his, which he gladly gave her, as the door slammed shut behind them.

For a few seconds the hot wetness of lips and tongue enmeshed together thrilled Mike as he felt his cock rise immediately. Next second Greta had pulled away saying, "I'll race you."

"To what?"

"To getting your clothes off," she declared, which Mike should have guessed as her fingers were already rapidly unfastening the buttons on her own shirt.

Was she so keen? Half laughing, but just a little bemused, he began undoing his own shirt, seeing Greta already shrugging out of hers to reveal a pair of unfettered, deliciously rounded, finger itching, pink nippled breasts. Her hands were already unfastening the waist of her jeans.

Feeling like he was all thumbs, Mike attempted to speed up his shirt unbuttoning, but by the time he was out of his shirt, Greta was wearing only a silky pair of panties, and even as he unbuckled his belt, those panties dropped away.

"Slow coach, you lose," she laughed, racing towards the bed. Her elegant buttocks emphasising the gorgeous figure he was about to have access to.

As he struggled out of his pants and socks he could not take his eyes from the sheer delectable look of her, lying flat on her back, with her thighs parted enough to reveal a hint of pink between the hairs of her darkly blonde bush. It was all there for the taking, and Mike was finding it hard to believe. This was probably the first time in his love life that he hadn't been the instigator.

As he reached the side of the bed, Greta turned her head and appreciatively eyed his erection. "Mm, a good hunk of timber," she murmured, and her fingers ruffled through her lavish bush, "You like my cornfield?"

Mike had to admit that that delightful area could certainly be recognised as corn coloured, and leaning over to touch where her fingers played, he found his hand being knocked away.

Her eyes were quite clouded as she hissed, "Playtime comes later. For now I want your timber to find my corn cave." She gave a little sensuous smile and went on, "In other words I just want to fuck."

Mike almost choked at the crudeness of her words. No woman he had ever known had spoken to him in such unguarded terms. He tried to find a voice, "But -don't you-"

"No, buts. Are you going to fuck me or not?"

Her face had taken on an almost doubting look as she gazed up at him. Mike shrugged, and slid his body between her thighs. He was only too willing to oblige. Holding his erect cock he placed it towards her invitingly wet opening.

That moment of entry was like hitting a switch. Instantly Mike felt his erection being hauled, as though by a hundred tight rings, deep into the hot wetness of Greta. At the same moment her hips rose in rhythmic heaves encouraging any thrusts that Mike might make.

Although slightly overcome by her ardent acceptance of his cock, Mike was able to provide the thrusts her hips were demanding. Together they heaved and grunted, with such passion as Mike had rarely encountered.

His attempt to kiss her was thwarted by the wild tossing of her head, as among her gasping grunts he heard the words, "Oh, God, good fucking, good fucking." He was aware of her hands and her finger nails, pulling at his buttocks, while he attempted to paw at her breasts, not easy when they were clinging so tightly together.

Mike wasn't sure how long they pounded at each other, but became aware that their frenzied undulations were leading him to a massive conclusion. Right back into his balls there was that eager sense of approaching release. With some relief he noted that Greta's breathing had quickened into harsher tones. This was confirmed as she gasped, "You've got me."

Two more rapid thrusts, brought his fluids pouring into his cock, and as they burst forth with one final massive push he delivered his load deep into Greta. That push brought a delighted gargling squeal from Greta's lips, as she twisted madly under him, her hips and flexing channel felt as though they were attempting to force every juice out of his body. Mike's solid cock was only too happy to oblige as he flexed and humped into her all the cum he had withheld for a goodly number of weeks.

Greta shuddered under him, her breathing beginning to recover, as she asked him, "Hell, you are good. How many women have you fucked?"

Mike shook his head in wonder. Was there no limit to this woman's provocatively frank language? Could he answer her question? Flattered by her observation he made a guess at ten, and that's what he told her.

Greta sighed, "You kept going longer than most men who have fucked me. You like sex?"

Mike could have laughed out loud. "I don't generally talk about it," he admitted.

"Why not?" she demanded. "That's what we're in this room for, isn't it? I like to do it and talk about it. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

Mike had to agree, although this directness was new to him. This well educated woman who, during the day, had spoken so fluently on scientific matters was now revealing her open sexuality, and Mike asked her, "How many men have you treated in this way?"

She was silent for just a moment as Mike felt his limp penis slipping out of her, "Ah, what a shame," she muttered. "I don't think of the fucking part as me treating men. It's more about what they can do for me."

"And how many has it been?"

"Twenty six" she said bluntly. "Not many of them as able as what you just did."

"I'm flattered," Mike told her, and he was. "But you said twenty six. Do you keep score?"

"Of course," Greta said. Her answer was so matter of fact that Mike could only ask, "How old are you?"

"Twenty five. I was eighteen when I had my first messy experience. Idiot came just as he entered me."

"So, do you have a timetable for when you'll do it?" Mike couldn't resist just a little teasing as he looked down into her lovely face.

"No, just when I feel the need," she said, and gave him a wicked grin, "which is regular. But I can go three or four weeks. Once I was on a course and it was three months before I got it." She laughed, "I practically broke that guy's prick off."

"And is it always straight in and do it?"

She chuckled, "Are you frightened to say 'fuck'? Yes, I know what I want." She swung her legs off the bed, "I did say we could play later. I'll get a shower first. Small shower, but you can watch if you want."

Mike watched her curvaceous figure as she hurried into the en suite. Such an intriguing woman, he just had to follow her.

Inside the small tiled unit, Mike saw straight away that the shower precluded any chance of sharing. But Greta was already allowing the water to flow over her, her golden hair hung straight, her hands rubbed a sponge over her breasts and on down to waft between her legs. She gave him a lascivious smile as she did that, before turning her back, and wiggling her lovely tight buttocks at him.

Mike held the towel for her as she came out, and quickly wrapped it around her, intending to give her a sensuous rub down. However she reopened the shower door, saying, "No. I'll dry myself, while you have yours." Another teasing smile , before she added, "And then the playing can start."

The shower was delightfully warm and refreshing and as he rubbed the sponge over his body he could see Greta rubbing at her hair. When she took the towel away the tousled hair gave her a wild look that so matched the way she had been on the bed.

When he turned off the water and opened the shower door to step out, Greta was ready, holding out a large dry towel. "Now, I'll dry you, to make sure you're ready."

She began rubbing at his hair and then down to his shoulders and chest. So that he wasn't just a dummy Mike placed his hands on her bare shoulders, as her towelling moved on down over his belly. He held his breath as the towel passed over his cock and under to his balls. Her touch was very gentle. Suddenly it became obvious that the towel was not there, and Greta's fingers were roaming along his limp cock. Only it wasn't quite as limp as it had been.

In his experience women had usually stepped back from touching his limp cock, and he told Greta that.

"I never step back from anything to do with sex," she said, which wasn't so surprising.

After drying his back she led him into the bedroom. Greta made no attempt to climb onto the bed, but instead, she came in close to him offering her lips, an offer which Mike was happy to accept. For over a minute they stood locked together, tongues wrestling, in a passionate clinch. It was a delight to be aware of the hairs of her bush tickling at his upper thighs.

In tune with that thought Greta broke the kiss to groan," Oh, I like that feeling."

"Which feeling is that?"

"Your prick hardening against my belly." And she gave a little wriggle to promote the sensation, before leaning back and asking, "Do you like my tits?"

"Do you like talking so bluntly?"

Her blue eyes held his, "When I talk about sex I like to be explicit."

"Do you talk about sex with other women?" Mike asked.

"Rarely," Greta admitted. "Should we get on with it?" And she flopped back onto the bed.

Mike crawled alongside her and stroked one hand over both breasts, "In answer to your question, I think they look and feel wonderful," he told her.

"Run your fingers over my nipples."

Mike did as requested before seeing her eyelids flutter, and asking, "You like that?"

Her breath came in a shudder, "Stroking my nipples sets the juices flowing all the way along my corn crack. Feel." Mike was stunned by her words and by the way her hand pushed his down across her belly onto her bush. "Go on, feel me."

He was tempted to tell her that he did not operate like that, but in this instance he slid his hand between her thighs, and was not at all surprised to feel the parted lips soaked.

"And that's just from touching my nipples." And having proved her point she pulled his hand back to her breasts again. "I take pride in being shocking. Do I shock you?"

"Let me ask you a question."

"Go ahead."

"Do you have something against foreplay?"

"Against the almost formulaic nature that most men go for," she replied, and flicked a finger at his rigid penis.

Her action made him catch his breath and she laughed as he asked, "What do you mean by formulaic?"

Her hand rested on his chest as she replied, "Well, most men want a woman's hand on their pricks, while they go through the standard routine of kissing, mouth to mouth with tongues, hands stroking at neck and shoulders, then onto tits-and nipples. All of it good enough in their own way."