Sweet Stella

'What do you want, Stella?'

'Orange juice?'

It's one of those old-fashioned London boozers. A big bar in the middle, little cubby holes in the corners, etched glass panels inside, not many windows to the outside, a bit scruffy. It's also not that busy, like most old-fashioned London boozers these days.

Samir puts the drinks onto the table and sits next to me, stretches his legs out under the table.

'I'm soaked,' I complain.

'But you look good wet,' he's smiling at me.

I twist up in my seat, press my lips to his, watch his pupils dilate, push my tongue into his mouth, jump when I feel his hands around my waist, pulling me closer. It feels pretty good. I put my hands around his face to hold him, stroke his cheeks with my palms, he has such nice skin. He breaks away first, pulls me in a little bit closer, one arm snaked around my waist, and we sit there passing the time until it stops raining.

He asks me again about my job and this time I confess how nervous I am about it, how everyone else there seems so much more confident than me, how I feel really self-conscious about my Essex vowels when I have to present my work, how when I'd said something about my foster mum at lunch one day, everyone'd gone quiet and I'd felt out of place. He squeezes my hand.

He talks about his job, how he's thinking of moving into geriatric care.

'It's a growing market, Stella, all those Baby Boomers are getting into their old age. And I like old people. They've got stories to tell.'

Another until-now-forgotten memory surfaces.

'You lived with your granny, didn't you?'

'Yes. She lived with us until she died. She was great. Full of life. She was one of the women who went on strike for equal pay at the Dagenham Ford factory, you know. In the '60s. I loved listening to her talking about that. She was feisty. Like mum. Feisty Essex girls,' he smiles at me.

'You had a houseful of women. You and your dad must've felt besieged by them all.'

He laughs out loud as if I've said the funniest thing, but then he's giving me that look again.

'Not at all. I think women are great.'

'Oh.'

'Some are lovelier than others,' as he leans in for a kiss.

And then; 'Let's get out of here.'

The flat is stuffy again and I go around opening all the windows. He's leaning up against the kitchen counter watching me when I turn back from opening the balcony door. Anticipation shivers up and down my spine.

'What?'

'Just looking at you, Stella. Can't get enough of it.'

He's beckoning me over to him, bends his head to mine and kisses me open-mouthed, his passion taking me by surprise so much I rock backwards, and he has to hold me around my shoulders to keep me upright. He doesn't close his eyes, either, and I'm made breathless by the intensity of it. I pull away, thinking my heart might bounce out of my mouth.

'Alright? Stella? Are you alright with this?'

He looks worried. I put my arms up around his neck, nod.

'I'm just surprised by how strongly I'm feeling it, Samir. It's a bit overwhelming.'

His face lights up with a huge grin.

'That makes two of us.'

He picks me up, turns us and sits me down on the counter, pulling me towards him, my legs either side of his body. Kisses me again, open-mouthed, those amber eyes on mine, his hands pulling on my hips.

This time he breaks away first.

'I've been wanting to do this with you since you walked into that beer garden to pick up the keys from Paul.'

His lips dragging along my neck as I tilt my head to expose more of me to his mouth, sliding a hand onto his hips, pulling them in to me.

'Have you?'

'Yes. I have.'

I tug at his t-shirt and he lets me pull it up over his head. I drop it onto the floor and press my hands onto his chest, looking at the difference in skin colour between us, his more olive where mine is a warmer colour.

'I love your skin - the colour, and the way it feels.'

I stroke him across his chest and around his waist down to his hips at the back, and then up to his chest again, sensing him watching me, feeling the way his body is responding to my touch. Run my fingertips along the line of dark hair from his belly button down to the top of his waistband, watching his muscles contract like mad.

'That tickles?' I ask him, looking up, assaulted by those amber eyes.

I do it again, fascinated by the way his stomach ripples, enjoying the way it's interrupting his breathing pattern. Sliding my hand downwards to find his cock, feeling the outline of it through his shorts, shaping my hand around him, stroking him, pressing around his head, circling and stroking.

He stays my hand, exhaling loudly.

'You'll have to stop doing that, Stella, otherwise it'll all be over a bit too soon.'

'Oh!' My hand flies up to my mouth.

He smiles.

'You're really lovely, you know that?'

Another open-mouthed kiss, his tongue filling my mouth, his pupils huge, his hands moving underneath my t-shirt now. My turn to twitch and twist as he smooths the skin on my stomach and around my ribcage, pushing the shirt up until it's over the top of my bra. His hands pressing the underside of each cup, I open my ribcage up and he's pushed the bra up over my breasts in one purposeful move, making me jerk as the lace catches against my nipples. His mouth engulfs a breast, his tongue greedy against my nipple, the pleasure so intense it's almost unbearable.

'God, Samir,' I can't stop myself from saying.

His tongue pauses, but I push my hands into his hair, lean back a bit further, trying to lift myself into his mouth, trying to remember how I'd thought he might be shy. A noise escapes from me, something inbetween a moan and a laugh, tormented as he moves his mouth to devour my other breast, one nipple throbbing, cooling, drying in the air, the other raging at his hot, wet tongue.

One hand pressed into my back, holding me to his mouth, the other cupping my exposed breast, then pinching the neglected nipple, making me jerk against him, my thighs lifting, my hips almost slipping off the counter. He's humming, almost laughing, as he lifts his mouth off my breast to catch me, to stop me from sliding off altogether.

'Sorry,' I say, but I'm not.

'Don't be.'

We're both a bit out of breath. He pushes me back onto the counter, a delicious meeting between our hips that drives another powerful tremor through me. Pulls my shirt and bra off, unclipping the bra with no difficulty at all.

'Are you still alright?' he's asking, his hands on my trembling thighs as I lean back on my hands.

'God, Samir, I had no idea,' I say.

He lifts an eyebrow, brushing his lips with the back of a hand.

'I thought you might be a bit shy,' and I laugh at how ridiculous that seems now.

His eyes are watching, following mine.

'Why?'

'Uh. Because you're quite quiet, aren't you? And you were shy at school.'

He blinks, his eyelashes quivering.

And then he's shoved me hard up against his hips, an arm tight around me, my thighs pushed wide around him. It's the first time I can feel his cock pressed up close against me and a small shadow of apprehension passes over me.

'I'm going to be good to you, Stella, don't worry.' His eyes are so dark now, almost all pupil. 'Show me what you like, and tell me what you don't.'

I inhale and lean back again.

'We've, um, almost reached the limits of what I know.'

His eyes widen.

'I, uh, didn't say anything before - I didn't know how to say anything without it sounding just too awkward,' I rush on, trying not to stutter too much.

'But you had a boyfriend at college? Paul met him,' a look of confusion on his face.

'I did, yes. But I didn't feel anything like this with him, so -,' I shrug. 'In fact, it felt nothing like this at all,' and I laugh, trying to release the built-up tension in my belly.

He's still quiet, only his hand on my thigh shifting a little, fidgeting.

'Say something, Samir.'

'I don't know what to say, Stella.'

'Oh.' I look down.

'No, don't do that.' He lifts my chin. 'I'm just surprised, that's all. I'd just assumed - you know.' He tips his head to one side. 'We can take this as far as you want, but no pressure from me.'

'It's not like I've taken a vow or anything, Samir. I just didn't want to do it unless I felt this good about it - or even half as good as this,' I smile, hoping he'll smile too.

He kisses me, but this time, his tenderness is just as overwhelming as his passion, and I fight not to cry, pressing myself into his chest, giving myself up to the feeling of his lips alternately pressing and grazing and trapping my lips in his.

Slipping my hands around his back, fingers exploring the muscles and dips of it, until I reach his hips. Pushing my hands into his shorts, his tongue fills my mouth again and I moan, wanting more than anything to feel this man's sweet desire. I've shifted forwards on the counter, his cock hard up against me again, and it's feeling good to rock myself against him. He releases my mouth, holds my chin in one hand.

'Shall we go somewhere with a bit more room?'

His eyes are dancing. I think mine might be too. I nod, and he picks me up off the counter and puts me down, takes my hand and pulls me down the hall to his bedroom. He pauses at the doorway and raises his eyebrows at me.

'Here?'

'Oh God yes. We can't use Paul's bed!'

We both laugh at this.

He sits me on his bed, starts opening drawers and pulling his clothes around, eventually finding what he's looking for. Holds the box up and climbs onto the bed next to me.

'These are just in case. Like I said, no pressure from me. You can decide how far to take us, Stella.'

'I've already decided, Samir.'

I shiver saying it, but I mean it. I start to take my glasses off, but he stops me, shaking his head.

'Keep them on,' pushing me down to lie on my back, his eyes drinking me, running a hand inbetween my legs, but then he leans over me and kisses me, his hand caressing my breast now.

'But still show me what you like, Stella,' he's murmuring, licking a line between my breasts, down to my belly, my heart jumping about in my chest.

I lift my hips to help him as he pulls my shorts and knickers down my legs, trying not to feel totally self-conscious when I realise he's looking at me there.

I jolt at his first touch. His second is gentler, as if he's just holding me in his hand. I open my thighs a bit wider as he starts to slide his fingers against me, gliding in my wetness. It's like when I do this to myself, only a whole lot better. I sigh, lifting up to press against his hand. He kisses my forehead, his pupils huge again, and I reach up to stroke his hair and his face.

He kisses my hand, takes it in his, moving down my body. I gasp when I understand what he's about to do, but he's already there, his tongue exploring me.

'Oh God, Samir,' I whisper and he squeezes my hand.

It's coiling up in my belly. I open my legs wider, raise myself up and stare at Samir's head between my legs, at his eyes as his lifts them to mine, feeling him pressing his finger into me, writhing onto him as he withdraws; pressing two fingers into me, sucking on me, licking me, pressing his lips to me.

It's coiled up so tight now I can hardly breathe, my fingers and toes splayed out, teetering, Samir pulling on my hand with his until I dive into it, breathing so loudly, biting down on my lower lip, raising my hips high, gasping, amazed at feeling myself contracting around his fingers, vibrating against his tongue.

I try to catch my breath. Open my eyes.

'Samir.'

He's kneeling over me, looking into my face, amber eyes shiny.

'You look beautiful when you come, Stella,' his face so close I can feel his breath, can smell my scent on him; raise my head to reach him, to taste myself on him.

'I've never tasted myself on anyone else.'

A grin spreads across his face.

'You taste sweet, Stella.' And then; 'Don't be shy about it. You're lovely.'

He runs a hand from my throat down to my hips, my skin burning with it.

I turn towards him. 'Samir -,'

'Sure?'

'I don't want to stop now.'

He bends in for a quick kiss, then sits up, unbuttoning his shorts, lifting his hips, pulling them down his legs. I sit up, watching him. Kiss his shoulder which makes him smile. He's opening one of the foil packs.

'Wait.'

He stops.

'Can I touch you before you put that on?'

'Course, Stella, I'd love you to.'

And then I lose my nerve. 'What do I do?'

He takes my hand, wraps it around his cock and holds it there. I'm amazed at how hot he is, how the skin is soft and how it moves, but how hard he is underneath it. How he seems to jump and twitch. I look up and his eyes are closed. I feel braver, start to move my hand along him, feeling how he moves, ripples, with it, listening to his breathing. I kneel up to reach his face and kiss him, his eyes opening, staring into mine. I run my fingers around his head, dipping them into his juice and smoothing it around. His eyes widen and he disengages.

'Did I do something wrong?'

'No. Not at all. But if you keep doing that, I'll come too soon.'

I sit back on my heels, reluctant to let him go, but he's removing my hand.

We lie down again, Samir using one hand to roll the condom down the length of his cock. I sigh, wondering what it will feel like, whether it'll be uncomfortable. I haven't ever had anything inside me like that, not even really liking my own fingers in there.

He's pushing my thighs apart with his hand, slides between my legs where I'm still wet, my hips kicking up at him, moving himself to me, the feel of his cock slipping against me causing me to kick up again and I almost giggle with it, the feeling is so good.

'You like this?' he's asking me, his eyes intent on mine.

I nod, not sure I can speak.

'Feel us together,' he says, taking my hand again, and pulling it down to where we are slipping and pushing up against each other. 'Doesn't that feel good?'

I nod again.

'Ok?'

Another nod.

'Lift your hips up a little,' he asks, pushing his hand under my bottom, his head pushing up against me. I open my thighs wider, wanting to feel more of him. Raise my head to look at him pushing into me, holding my breath.

'Relax,' he's saying, pressing me down with his chest on mine as he's pushing deeper inside.

I exhale, feeling how he's widening me out, dipping then retreating, rotating his hips into mine. He seems to pause. Stops. He lowers his mouth onto mine, thrusts really hard and deep, and it hurts.

'Ow.'

I turn my head away.

'Sorry, Stella. Sorry. But I think that's it now.'

He presses his lips to my neck, kissing my skin as if it's coated in sugar, tickling me with his tongue, moving from behind my ear and down to my shoulder, whispering into me. I stay still, letting the sting go, concentrating on feeling him, how far inside me he seems to be now, moving myself to feel him more, relaxing around him. I turn back to look at him.

'Does it feel as intense as this every time?' I ask. 'I don't mean the pain bit, I mean how it feels between us?'

I could drown in his eyes, really I could.

'I hope so, Stella.'

'Really, though? It can't be like this every time.'

He laughs, vibrating inside me, making me raise my legs up over his bum to feel him more. He starts to move inside me and I grip at him over his back.

'This isn't sore?'

I shake my head.

'Not now.'

He grabs my shoulders and rolls us until I'm on top of him, moves his hands down my sides onto my hips, making me shiver.

'See what you like, Stella,' coaxing me to sit upright, his eyes refusing to leave mine.

It feels different, this position, and I tilt and roll my hips around on him, enjoying the sensation, the fullness of him inside me, but almost enjoying the look on Samir's face more.

'What does this feel like for you?' I ask him.

'More than amazing.'

I raise myself up, reach down and slip my fingers around him, touching us where we are joined, startled at the feel of his fingers meeting mine, both of us feeling how we fit together, trembling as he presses a fingertip to my clit, feeling my insides pulling and squeezing around him. I drop my head.

'Mmmm. Samir, I've never felt anything like this before.'

He's urging me down to him now, pulling my hand away with his, pushing his fingers through mine again, as I lie down on his chest, feeling it as the angle between us changes, an intake of breath when his pubic hair brushes then crushes into my clit and I tip my hips to make it happen again.

'Fuck, Stella, you're a natural,' he groans, lifting his hips and pushing himself deeper inside, flexing his fingers between mine.

'Do that again,' I whisper into his neck, and he thrusts upwards, making me catch my breath.

'And again,' I'm urging him.

He pulls my face back to his, dragging his thumb over my cheek. And then pulls his hand away, looking at it.

'What?' And then I see for myself.

His fingers are bloody. I look at my own. The same.

'I didn't know there would be blood like this,' I say.

'Me neither. Are you sure you feel alright?'

'More than alright, Samir. Don't even think about stopping,' I warn him.

He smiles, pulls my fingers into his mouth and sucks them, jacks his hips up to mine forcing his cock deeper, establishing a rhythm I can respond to, moving my body to match his, his hands holding my bottom, pressing me down onto him.

We're both starting to pant. He rolls us again, trapping me underneath him, and when he starts pushing his hips, I feel how much more strength he has than me. I lift my legs higher up his back, wanting to feel the friction of it on my clit as he increases the pace, arching my back, reaching for him.

He shifts position, raising his knees around me, reaching deeper into me.

'Oh. That's it,' I gasp. 'There, yes. There.'

'I can't hold back any longer, Stella.'

This time is different, not like any time before, coming from somewhere much deeper inside, diving and tumbling between us, so much more forceful. We are lost and found, both of us, Samir's breath blowing onto my neck as he turns his head to me, kisses me.

I think I can feel him throbbing inside me.

'Is that you?' I whisper.

His body suddenly relaxes on top of me, heavy. And then he shifts, rolling us back so he's underneath, wrapping his arms around my waist, his chest moving up and down. We're both out of breath, and as we breathe together we smile at each other.

Eventually; 'You alright Stella?'

Still not really ready for words, I just laugh, which pushes him out of me a little bit.

He stretches, lifts me and pulls out altogether, which makes me shudder, and he apologises.

'Probably need to do this now, otherwise we might be making babies sooner than we want,' his eyes dancing at me again, and he shifts my hips over to one side of him, pulls the condom off and uses both hands, raised over my back, to knot it.

I stroke his face.

'Are you ok, Stella? Seriously?' He crooks an arm behind his head to prop himself up and look at me.

'Yes. I'm seriously ok, Samir,' closing my eyes briefly. 'I didn't think it would be like that.'

He runs his hand into my hair, flexing his fingers through the curls. 'Like what?'

'Good. So overwhelmingly good.'

He grunts, reminding me of the noises we were both making just now.

'Was it like that for you?'

He opens his eyes wide, stares at me intently.

'Stella, I feel like I'm the luckiest bloke alive. You've no idea how lucky I feel.'

'Really?'

'Yes. Really.'

I feel empty without him inside anymore.

'What do we do now?'

He exhales. 'Well, I think we'll scavenge for dinner in about an hour. And I'm hoping we might do this again later.' Raising an eyebrow at me.

I smile back at him.

'What else?' I ask.