The Debt Ch. 01

Life sometimes throws complexities at us all, and as stressful as it may seem, if we are patient the majority of situations will resolve themselves, provided we are prepared to go that little bit further than we thought possible.

Oh, and I'm Sharon by the way. Please don't call me Shaz...because I hate the reminders it brings of the lazy and obnoxious oaf I was married too, and how I came to find myself now at twenty-two years of age divorced after four years of marriage, and living in a small tower block. The kind where voices and shouts echo up through piss stinking concrete stairwells during the night, and the neon sprayed graffiti is welcome, to break up the drab dirty greyness of it all.

In the small flat I was happy, well, reasonably contented. As soon as that front door closed I had my own world, although occasionally it would be invaded by music coming through the thin walls or the very amorous exercise of the couple upstairs playing out their love-making through my ceiling.

Still, I'm not complaining about that last part because if the mood took me I'd slip my fingers into my panties and massage my clitoris to their rhythm - some nights the three of us all managed to cum at the same time.

It was one evening whilst I was stood at the front door of the flat, having a cigarette, peering through the deluge of rain at the rooftops, which glistened beneath the streetlights of the town that a familiar voice called to me.

Turning, I saw tall and somewhat rather sodden and bedraggled figure in black waterproof clothing carrying a black and silver motorbike crash helmet.

The laughter burst from my mouth with such energy, my cigarette spat forth, hissing briefly as it landed in a small puddle.

"Look at the state of you, Stefan," I said as I stepped back into the hallway, motioning for him to follow me.

"Thanks, Sharon," he replied, shaking as much moisture from himself as possible before stepping in.

"Leave your stuff here in the hallway," I said pointing to the shoes by the door.

"I can't stay," he replied, before ruffling his short dark brown hair, then slipping the small rucksack from his back.

"Oh," I replied, as a small feeling of emptiness some how filled me, and my hands slipped in the back pockets of my jeans, holding my arms tightly and defensively against the sides of my body.

He pulled a package from the backpack, wrapped in a carrier bag, handing it to me.

"Here are two carton's of cigarettes. Just a small thank you for helping me out last week," he said.

"You shouldn't have, honestly," I replied freeing a hand from the back pocket, and blushing as I accepted it.

The truth was that I was extremely grateful, as money was far tighter than anybody knew since my hours had been reduced at the local supermarket.

"I'll hear nothing of the sort," he acknowledged, "you really did me a great favour," he added, with his wonderful warm smile, "it's the least I can do, although I really wish you had accepted the cash."

I waved a hand dismissively, blushing heavily as I looked into his beautiful green eyes.

"It's absolutely fine," I lied.

He held a hand up to stop me.

"You are far too modest Sharon, replacing that jumper would have cost me quite a bit of money, and the fact you didn't even want to charge me for the repair, well...," he said before adding, "you should treat yourself as well as you do others."

As he slipped the rucksack back on he leant forward and kissed me on the cheek.

Once more I longed for his own lips to touch mine. Not tonight I told myself, I would wait until the time was right I thought to myself...again.

It was becoming a very cowardly habit.

Thankfully, the dimness of the bare hallway bulb hid my blush at his touch.

It wasn't easy having a major crush on one of your friends ex-boyfriends. I had only gotten to know Stefan over the past couple of years through one of my friends. Sure I'd seen him around prior, but you see lots of people repeatedly in a small town.

My concern, albeit a weak one, was the fallout within the social dynamics of the friendship between Sarah, Stefan's ex-girlfriend, and myself although our closeness had somewhat cooled recently.

Sarah seemed a little indifferent about everything, although if I were to be completely honest with myself, the fact remained she had cheated on such a lovely guy and that hurt me too, because many were the times I would have the opportunities to impose myself upon him, I had denied myself this out of respect for their relationship and our friendship.

When you're close to a friend, there are multiple social situations in which you spend time in physical proximity to their partner, and not once had I used the occasions, such as christmases, birthdays, evenings out, to kiss him other than on the cheek. But my god, so often I had craved to feel his lips pressed uptight against on my own and to grab his lovely firm bum and grind our pelvises together.

I had thought about trying to generate situations for rebound sex since their break-up but alas Stefan still treated me with such consideration, despite only getting to know me through Sarah.

He just was not the kind of guy who would use me for his own gratification, despite me secretly relishing this idea.

His voice brought me back from my mindful meanderings.

"How about we catch-up in town Saturday, tomorrow morning at the cafe in the square, my treat, another thank you".

"That'd be lovely," I smiled.

"Are you sure I couldn't offer you a drink, now" I asked, trying to hide the desperation in my tone.

My heart lifted as he slipped the sleeve of his jacket up, glancing at his watch.

"I'm really sorry, I'm already running late," he replied softly.

"That's okay," I accepted through a forced smile.

At that, he tenderly patted me on the shoulder and we arranged to meet at nine 'o' clock in the morning.

As he went back out into the rain, I stood on the balcony of the flats, lighting another cigarette, and watching him climb on his motorbike and head home through the dark night, as my shoulders sagged under the weight of my own cowardice.

* * *

After a tumultuous nights sleep, I finally awoke to the alarm.

A beautiful Saturday morning.

The sun was out.

I felt rested, just about.

And I was meeting Stefan in just over an hour.

Perfect.

A quick cup of coffee and a shower woke me fully, and I stood before the wardrobe wondering what too wear.

After much rifling, I settled on a shoulder strapped bottle green sheath dress which stopped just above my knees.

In front of the mirror I added a little rouge and pink lipstick.

There would be no need for much more I told myself, as Sarah had once informed me Stefan always preferred it when she wore little or no make-up.

Thanks to the natural shagginess of my blonde hair, it required little maintenance, and running a brush through it a few times had it fanning outwardly at the end.

The nude high-heels I had chosen echoed in the concrete stairwell, as I picked my way past cigarette ends and a couple of suspicious looking pools of liquid.

A condom, with its swollen milky end lay in the middle on the steps leading down from the sixth floor to the fifth. I grimaced, then smirked briefly, wondering if the couple in the flat above my own had been unable to wait until they arrived home last night, as it had been very quiet.

Once out of the stairwell the fresh air of the streets gave instant respite from the domestic claustrophobia in which I was spending so much of my life. Each deep breath woke my inner being further still, as I walked purposely to The Square and the café.

Pausing before a shop window I adjusted the dress straps in my reflection and smoothed the material over my hips. I felt good.

With it being relatively early, the town was not too busy, and as I crossed the square with its myriad of shop's courting the edges I could see there would be no issue in finding a table in the sunshine to enjoy my coffee with Stefan.

The aroma of freshly ground beans in the light and airy shop was intensely uplifting, and I stood patiently awaiting for my americano.

This didn't happen too often and was a nice little treat to myself.

A quick glance at my watch told me it was exactly nine 'o' clock.

Expectantly I glanced around hoping too see Stefan, and found myself a little disappointed to see the only company I had was two bearded young hipsters and there respective girls.

Stepping outside, I took a seat and enjoyed the warmth the of the sun on my pale skin. After the rain last night, the day felt so much cleaner.

I took several enjoyable sips of the coffee, then looked to my watch again.

Stefan was normally very punctual, or early.

It was most unusual for him, and so I tried to sit patiently, but the expectation was beginning to stir angst within, as I began to drum my fingers on the table before lighting a cigarette, which I finished far too quickly.

Scooping up my drink I went back inside and approached the counter, reassuring the girl working there that my drink was fine.

"Hi, I'm Sharon, I'm meant to be meeting somebody here this morning at nine 'o' clock," I began, "he's a tall good-looking guy, with short dark brown hair, green eyes and rides a motorbike. If he turns up can you tell him I'll be back by nine forty five."

"Sure," she said, smiling.

I thanked her, and checking the lid was secure on the cup set off on the twenty minute walk to where Stefan lived.

As I passed numerous shoppers in my haste, I knew I had to slow my pace down, the back of one of my shoes began to gnaw painfully against my heel.

Inwardly I cursed it.

Finally, and with the merest of limps I left the town centre followed the main road to the quaint housing estate where Stefan lived.

Consciously, I made the decision to slow down, lest I arrive at the front door out of breath and sweating - for all the wrong reasons.

So, as I reduced my walking pace I rounded the first corner onto the estate with its clean red-brick detached houses, driveways and manicured lawns.

This was a world away from my own tiny flat, and a location I had been on my way too, until the divorce had financially cleaned me out.

Still, at least I was free from that no good deadbeat husband.

As I turned the second corner, the street opened into the large space of a cul-de-sac, with ample turning space.

I stopped abruptly.

Sat confidently on the driveway of Stefan's house was a small two-seater sports coupe, painted in a delicious gold colour which glimmered intensely in the sun.

The roof was folded down so I knew it had been driven here on dry this morning.

I told myself it was probably one of his friends visiting at short notice, which is why he had not made it to our meet-up, but the entire demeanour of the car was sexiness. The kind of vehicle a large breasted, confident young woman with a cute ass would be driving.

Noticing the downstairs curtains at the front of the property were still closed, whilst the upstairs ones were open, I dismissed this as a way to keep the bright morning sunlight out of the living-room, and walked to the house.

Glancing at the immaculate gleaming paintwork of the car as I passed it, the lack of any watermarks revealed the car had been kept in a garage or under cover last night. The owner was clearly very proud and respectful of it.

Stopping at the front door of the house I raised a hand and pressed the doorbell, listening to it chime deep and loudly around the inside of the hallway.

Watching through the patterned glass, I waited for Stefan's shape to appear. I waited further still, but there was no sign of him.

The chime rang through the interior again.

Finally, I raised the brass door knocker, bringing it down several times.

After standing in vain for several minutes I peered around the side of the house at the tall wooden gate.

Perhaps he and his guest were in the back garden?

Stepping toward the gate, I tried the handle and the latch lifted with a sturdy metallic clack.

The gate squealed as I pushed it open and stepped through, closing it carefully behind me.

Moving deliberately, I walked down the path, passed a door, and around the corner.

The large immaculate freshly cut lawn, with it's surround of poplar trees, nestled close to the high wall was empty, as too were the white enamelled metal chairs around the matching garden table.

Immediately to my left was the kitchen window.

Cupping my hands around my face I peered in, but there was no one to see, and the door was closed.

Moving onto the pale flagged patio brought me to the full-sized sliding doors. The curtains here were drawn too, but approximately a third of the way down they had began to part where the base had dragged on the carpet.

I crouched, with a little difficulty but struggled to see in, and so knelt on the bare stone; the coarse texture pressing into my knees.

Again, I cupped my hands and brought my face to the glass, to remove any reflections.

After a brief moment, I felt my blood freeze.

Paralysis took over my entire body.

Stefan was lay on the floor propped upon on both elbows, his lean tanned figure defined against the pale beige carpet.

Sat astride his strong bare pelvis was an equally naked woman, except for her tan hold up stockings.

I gasped in surprise, for Stefan was in early twenties like myself and this woman looked the same age as my own mother.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Her blonde curls touched the top of her shoulders and her slim breasts were beautifully perky; the nipples, surrounded by very large areola's, facing almost upwardly with the slope of her milky white flesh.

Stefan brought his head in closer to her torso and a tingle of delight spasmed in my own pussy as his tongue lapped at an erect nipple several times.

One of her arms was reaching down beneath her own broad bottom, and I watched Stefan clench his teeth and screw up his eyes as her hand moved beneath her pale buttocks.

She continued to do this, causing his pelvis to moved in a restricted manner.

The rise in his chest was deep and purposeful as though he were exercising all of his self-control.

Her hand moved in deliberate circles, when suddenly his taught buttocks, trapped against the floor by her mass, writhed from side to side.

One of my hands hiked up the base of my dress allowing my fingers to rub at my rapidly moistening own pussy through the material.

The woman leant forward slightly, dropping her tits to his mouth.

I could now see her hands were massaging Stefan's large, smooth hairless balls, and could just make out her raw and swollen pink labia suctioning the base of his shaft, which glistened with her juice's

With her weight from his pelvis, it allowed him to buck up and down in very short strokes.

She threw her head back, and her mouth moved. In response he bared his teeth and closed them around one of her nipples, much to her delight, as his lovely buttocks repeatedly relaxed and then clenched into the form of those of a marble statue.

My own fingers now worked furiously, abrasively grinding the white cotton of my panties and my pubic hair against my swollen clitoris.

My climax was building, and desperately wanted to come in unison with him.

Suddenly and without warning my hand slipped from the glass of the door, causing my head to slam noisily onto it.

The woman looked across.

Momentarily Stefan appeared to remain fixed on achieving his orgasm.

Her eyes met mine, and she spoke causing Stefan to avert his gaze to me also.

Despite the horror of the embarrassment I had time identify how beautiful his sex face was.

The tanned complexion, soft green eyes, and a sense of of deep well-being despite the tension of the impending ejaculation, as small beads of perspiration ran from his forehead.

He had been working hard for her.

The woman pointed and a mask of horrified embarrassment dropped over his face.

Standing, with my back now to the drawn curtains, I cursed to myself, "Oh fuck, now what."

Any hope of my voyeuristic climax was well and truly gone.

Smoothing down my dress, I stood to gather my thoughts, excuses and anything else that could help me out this situation.

Escape was the best option I concluded, as it would give me time to think everything through clearly before I spoke to Stefan again. Assuming I had the courage to face him.

As I moved to the corner at the side of the property, to make my way out through the gate, I heard the swish of the patio doors as Stefan called, "Sharon. Wait."
I wanted to make a dash for the gate but heard his bare feet slapping on the stone flags.

Turning, my eyes fell upon a white t-shirt pathetically held across his groin for modesty, unable to hide the swelling of his unfinished business.

He looked down, his shoulders hunched defensively and blushing intensely before saying, "I know, its a little late to cover up now."

A laugh erupted from my mouth and I nodded.

Folding my arms, I mockingly scolded him for standing me up at the cafe.

"Give me thirty seconds then come into house, please," he implored.

Briefly I wondered as to why he wasn't sending me away, so I agreed.

He thanked me and turned to go back into the house, whereupon I reached forward and slapped a hand firmly on the hard buttocks, much to his surprise.

"Absolutely gorgeous," I smiled.

"Really?" he said, turning his face to me.

"Oh yes. Very much so."

He tottered off, as I counted slowly to thirty before making my way in through the sliding doors.

The large room was warm, and filled with a rich aroma of sex.

I suspected this woman had been here for some time.

Pieces of clothing and underwear were dumped haphazardly over the electric blue sofa.

Stefan was stood in a pair of shorts which clearly displayed his arousal beneath, and the same white t-shirt. A damp patch on the chest where I could only presume her pussy juice had transferred from his cock moments earlier, made an unusual logo.

On the sofa the blonde woman sat. She had on a skirt and a blouse which remained unbuttoned, revealing part of her breasts.

She stood, her blouse opening further, displaying those lovely perky tits, the nipples looking decidedly aroused. She made no attempt to cover up.

A hand extended.

"You must be the Sharon."

Intrigued, I accepted her hand and shook it.