ESME

Winter wonderland, here I come...

Okay.  So maybe I wasn't quite as brave as that.  As awkward moments go, it was a bloody good one.  Me standing there in a bit of gossamer and lace, gaping like a fish at the man who'd just crawled in my bedroom window.  And I'm not entirely sure, but I think my heart beat faster after he identified himself than when I thought he was a prowler.  How pathetic is that? 

His words were still ringing in my ears.

"S'okay, Esme...Santa said you'd ordered me for Christmas...He thought you deserved your present early...I'll go if you'd rather...but...there are five men below who want to tear me limb from limb...I, however, would prefer to strip you naked and make passionate love to you all night... Your specs are on the bed side table. It's Cullen Murphy if you couldn't quite make me out...."

No, not those words.  The other words.

"There wouldn't be room in there for a poor cold man on a winter's night, would there?" 

He couldn't possibly be serious!  It had to be more of his charming Cheshire Blarney.  So I did what I also do to keep from being embarrassed by my own sad longings.  I suddenly found my tongue.  "No room at the Inn, hey?"

His smile was positively wicked.  "I think it's safe to say I wouldn't be welcomed there tonight even if I was the Christchild himself."  

I don't know about that one.  I was already half way to Heaven and ready to break out into a Hallelujah chorus.  God, Esme.  You are such a cow!  He couldn't possibly have meant what he said.... and even if he did... you know he'd probably shag a dirty old boot to get out of a jam.  Not to mention I hadn't had a Brazilian in how long now?  Six weeks?  Sasquatch!  All panic aside, part of me knew he wasn't here by choice.  The other part of me was saying- 'Shut up, you stupid cow!  As if you're ever going to get another chance like this!  Don't you dare waste it!' 

He also hadn't made the slightest effort to hide his prurient interest in my attire.  There was a sexual gleam in his eyes.  So why not reach out and take what was on offer?  Forget about crushes and Christmas wishes and falling in love.  I wouldn't let myself think of this as anything else but a good old-fashioned romp with a lusty young man.  Age has never been an issue for me.  Old.  Young.  Gay.  I could do casual sex, right?  Well, casual sex with a heterosexual male might be a bit of a challenge for me.  I don't seem to have much of a problem falling into bed with Jeff and Paul every now and then, do I?  It's hardly casual if you love them both to bits though, is it?  Bloody hell.  When did my life get so complicated?  

Something was bothering me about it all though.  Not the man in my room or the promise of casual sex.  How did he know which window was mine?  And I don't recall telling him my name when I ran into him down the pub.......... but before I could ask about either of those things, he'd already made himself at home, sauntering past me with a wink to throw himself down on my bed with a cheerful grunt and a wiggle that sent my mountain of pillows flying. 

Sweet Mary and Joseph, did he look good sprawled there.

"Interesting place you have here, luv."

CULLEN

Now that was certainly no lie.  Her room was like something out of Arabian Nights.  Gauzy ethnic fabric hung about the place giving it a tent-like feel.  Lanterns with burned down candles in them hung from the ceiling.  Leather chaise in the corner.  Big ornate mirror that looked to be the perfect height for a great view from the bed.  Interesting.  Wonder if she likes to watch?   

It was warm.  Hot, actually.  I was beginning to sweat.  It even looked warm in the glow of the one small lamp she'd turned on to see just who'd climbed in her window.  Everything was in shades of gold and orange and red.  It smelled too, like something sweet and musky.  Myrrh and spice.  Fecking hell.  The bloody doona was even made of silk and I bet the carpet underfoot was an authentic Persian.  It all reminded me of Morocco and of a few other places I'd been in the Middle East.  Without the unsavoury aspects-- whores and starving children and the impoverished masses squatting in back alleys that stank of stale piss. 

It was not at all what I expected.  She wasn't either.  She'd been wrapped up in a heavy coat and scarf when we'd bumped into each other at the pub.  It was her eyes that had caught my interest initially.  That shade of blue is a particular weakness of mine, but under that heavy winter coat I'd imagined her to be the sort to have more luscious curves.  My own personal preference.  Not that I won't go home with one of those waif types if it's the best thing on offer, but I never spend more than one night with them.  You can't blame a hard living man for liking a bit of softness to ease him, now can you?  I like big natural tits that overflow a man's hands and a fine round arse that you can really grab hold of.  Sink your teeth into.  Your cock, too.  I suddenly wondered if she was a real blonde. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself here.  

From the looks of her, it was clear I had more convincing to do.  She no longer looked like she wanted to toss me back out into the cold night, but she wasn't joining me on the bed either.  Usually our eyes would have been rolling back into our heads by now and she'd have been howling my name.  Must have been the goatfuck back at the pub that had thrown me old magic off.  But never let it be said that Cullen Murphy isn't one to rise to the challenge.

I lay back and gave her my best smile.  "You like sex?"  She sputtered.  I grinned and waved my hand round at her bedroom.  "Cos I think anyone who goes to this much trouble to tantalise the senses has to.  It'd be a real shame otherwise.... bit like foreplay without the orgasm, you know?"  Direct hit.  That blush went ALL the way down.  Have I mentioned that her lingerie is really doing it for me?  I thought it was black at first.  It's not.  It's blue, like when you dive in open water down really deep....  Eh, well- you can take the boy out of the SEAL...

I half thought I'd gone too far but then she laughed.

"Something tells me that doesn't often happen to you, does it, mate?"

"Me?  Nah."  I waggled my brows at her and batted my baby browns.  "I have a long standing deal with me old right hand.  He's a fucking good mate about it too."  And forgive me my lad, but I certainly hope I won't be needing you tonight.

I liked her laugh.  And she was beginning to melt.  I could tell.  Her eyes were dancing again as well, like they had that night at the pub.  Right before she squeaked and bolted.  Not the reaction I usually get from women.  And you know there's nothing for exciting a predator like when the prey runs. 

She eyed me up.  "Well, I can see you're not easily embarrassed."  

She was coming closer.

I shrugged.  "So you know I wank?  Big deal.  You already know every man with a pulse does it."  I fingered her doona.  "And I know people with a bedroom like this definitely do it."  At least I was damn sure hoping that was the case.  I'm not interested in inhibited women.  They bore me.  If I wanted to stick my cock in a frigid block of ice, I'd fuck a penguin. 

"You're pretty certain of yourself for someone who climbed in the bloody window not five minutes ago."

"Well, you haven't tossed me back out of it yet, now have you?" I pressed my hand to my heart.  "I'm eternally hopeful."

"Eternally randy, more like you dirty bugger."

I moved my hand from my heart to my crotch and gave the familiar bulge a playful squeeze.  "That too.  All part of my charm.  And between you me and the wall, us dirty buggers have more fun."  I caught a glimpse of something disturbing on her face and dropped the act for a moment, aware I was treading a fine line between cocky and frightening.  I had broken into her flat, after all.  I might flirt with the edge of acceptability now and again but I wasn't some kind of fucking deviant.  "I don't usually do this, you know."

"Casual sex?"  I'm surprised she actually got that tart reply out, dripping as it was with sarcasm and disbelief.  

"Climbing in windows.  My usual style is more like, 'Buy you a pint, luv?' followed by the usual chitchat and me hoping when I ask later if she wants to leave with me that she'll say 'yes'."  I winked at her.  "And I'll have you know I'm a firm believer in casual sex.  Nothing wrong with a bit of mutual pleasure between consenting adults, now is there?"

"You're direct."

"And you're killing me in that scrap of satin, sweetheart."  I moved to sit up and she froze.  "I'll go if you want.  I may be a randy little shite, but I'm not the sort to push a woman into anything she doesn't want." 

Fucking hell, she actually thought it over.  I'm not sure whether to be offended or flattered.

Her blush was back and so was that low husky voice that made my cock twitch.  "No.  Stay."

I smiled as I withdrew the volume of erotic I'd found in the folds of her doona.  "Good.  Want to come and lay down then?"  Patting the bed beside me, I opened the heavy cover, revealing the thick glossy pages between.  "We could look at this book together...."  In fact, I'd been dying to do exactly that ever since I'd discovered it.  I flashed her a naughty smile.  "Come on, dirty girl... you can show me what you really fancy...."

ESME

God, please let the ground open up and swallow me!  

Tomorrow.  

It'd be a crying shame to waste this chance-- even if I was in danger of dying of embarrassment as I watched him casually flick through the pages.  

"You like good porn," he observed.  "These are quite erotic."  I felt my face flame-- as well as other parts of my body.  He waved the book under my nose as if he was an enthusiastic five-year-old showing off a finger painting to his Mum.  "I like this one." 

It was an arty black and white nude shot of a woman bent over at the waist, gripping her legs.  She was either a contortionist or a yoga master.  The shot was taken from behind so her arse looked like a bloody great peach.  With an anus and labia.  Once you worked out exactly what you were looking at, that is.  The only point of reference was her hands.  There wasn't a head or a foot in the shot.  He certainly wasn't shy, was he?

"Do you fancy looking at porn?"  He didn't look like the sort who needed any help getting it up, but you never know.  Everyone has issues these days.    

He looked up from the book.  "Sure.  What man doesn't?  I like the real thing a hundred times better though."  His dark grin got more wicked if that was possible.  "Now let's see which one you like."

Bloody hell.  I don't even talk about that kind of thing with Jeff and Paul and they know me better than anyone.  I froze.  It didn't deter Cullen one bit and despite my mortification, I found myself slipping down next to him on the bed.  In for a penny, in for a pound...

"Let's just see here...."  He closed the book and then let it fall open.  Naturally it opened where the spine was softest.  To the pages I look at most often.  Damned traitorous book.  Am I not allowed any secrets?

On the left was a black and white shot of a nude man in repose.  His cock was big and soft with a long foreskin.  The thick shaft drooped heavily over his wrinkled hairy scrotum.  His pubic hair was dark and wiry.  There's just something about a soft cock that I find especially erotic.  Probably because you so rarely see one.  Most erotica features hard ones.  I've always liked looking at the soft ones.  Usually you don't see those unless you've a lover at home.  It implies a certain sense of intimacy.  At least I think so.

My face flamed as he looked up from the graphic image and caught my eyes.  He must have seen the vulnerability there because for once, he didn't say anything.  He just gave me an appraising look and before turning his attention to the picture on the right.

That one, while less graphic, was more erotic by far.  You couldn't see any genitals but the shot itself was painfully animalistic.  Black and white nudes again.  This time it was a man's body covering a woman's from behind.  She was on her knees.  His hand was fisted in her hair and she was struggling.  It wasn't a faked shot.  He was obviously deep inside her even though you couldn't see much besides their flanks, his flexing buttocks and the broad expanse of his back.  Her eyes were dilated.  The veins on his forearms were swelled and they were both sweating.  His fingers were pinching one of her nipples.  Hard. 

Maybe it was the voyeur in me that liked that shot so much.  It didn't look like two people performing for a camera.  It looked like two people in the throws of an animalistic fuck that had forgotten about the camera's presence entirely. 

Cullen's large fingertip traced the line of the woman's breast and I swear I felt the touch on my own skin.  "Nice choice."  His voice was low and husky.  "How the fucking artist kept both hands on the camera I will never know.  Watching that would have lit my flame.  Id've had a hand on my cock for sure." 

I said nothing.  Casual sex is one thing.  This was hard enough as it was to keep myself from getting in too deep.  Maybe he just got off getting women to expose their vulnerabilities.  Who knew?  It also didn't escape me that while open about his sexual proclivities, he hadn't exactly revealed anything truly personal.  No hopes or dreams or fears or things that kept him up at night, smoking and talking to the walls. 

I could tell he was that sort.  Broody and prone to bouts of excess punctuated by brief periods of deep reflection.  Typical Irish boy.  Moody young cunt who liked to fuck and drink too much.  He was probably a Mummy's boy too under it all.  All the best ones are. 

"Pretty hot, this."  His fingertip was still stroking the glossy page.  "You think about getting fucked like this when you look at it?"  

He was looking at me now but he still hadn't taken his blasted finger off the page.  It was like he was stroking them or something.  I thought I might burn up as I felt the heat in my face swell and travel down, throbbing somewhere between my legs that had grown wet and engorged.

I squirmed under his gaze.  "Maybe."  Looking at him was too intense.  I looked back to the page and scrambled for anything to say to fill the hot uncomfortable silence.  "He looks like he needs to come."  I had to swallow hard to force the words out and they were still shaky.

"I think he's already come.  Look at his neck.  His hands."  He was looking at me not the book when he said it and it made looking at the page under his scrutiny that much harder.  "He's pinching her like that to feel her come while he's still sensitive enough to really feel it-- so good it hurts.  He's not ready to come down from that high just yet.  Wants it to go on and on.  I bet he can feel every little squeeze and flutter."

I think my whole body shuddered at his words.  His masculine perspective was enlightening.  You see why I love having men around?  Well, besides the obvious reasons of course.

"I...."  Was I speaking?  Or moaning?  Did it really matter at this point?  

He put his mouth by my ear and whispered, "I can make you come just like that."  The timbre of his words was like a caress in itself.  I could smell him; soap and cologne and stale cigarette smoke over the warm musky sent of man.  He'd probably worn that stupid shirt a few nights in a row.  I liked that he didn't try too hard to impress anyone.  I also liked the smell.  He was who he was and if you didn't like it he'd find someone else to go home with.  Lucky for me that my window just happened to be open, hey?

The warm wet tongue in my ear was making it hard to think.  

"Say yes, Ellie...."

"It's Esme."  If we're going to do this I want to be sure he's using the right name.  And tongue or no tongue, it annoyed me that he'd forgotten mine already.

"I know that, you goose.  Esmer-elda.  Elda.  Ellie."  He pinched my nipple.  "You're too sensual for 'Esme'.  That sounds as dry as my grannie's dusty old cunt.  Ellie's all together different, don't you think?"

"Mmmfff...."  He was doing that thing with his tongue again.  "Hoh!"  He bit me!  Oh my God, he bit me!  I think I'm in love.  Lust.  Whatever.   

"See?  Listen...."  He closed his eyes and threw back his head, his strong hips writhing in mimicry of some sensuous sex act.  "God, yes... Ellie... more...."  His eyes opened and met mine.  They were dark and full of smouldering heat.  "Shall we try another one?"  I could only nod.  This time he didn't close his eyes.  "That's it, luv... suck me harder, Ellie..."  A wave of heat so powerful it made my head swim raced over me.  The look on his face said he knew exactly what he was doing.  "Maybe one more.... just to be sure?"

I whimpered.

He leaned in close.

"I want to make you come, Ellie.  I want to feel you come.  I want you to make me come.  I want to fuck all night - again and again - until I can't get it up even one more time and then I want to use my hands and mouth on you until you're too limp to move.  Say yes, Ellie...."

Was he fucking mental?  What girl in her right mind would say 'no' to that?  It wasn't just the best offer I'd had recently.  It was hands down the best offer I'd had.  By anyone.  Ever.  "Hoh.... yesssss."

He reached for me and the book slipped to the floor.  It landed with a clatter, falling open to yet another of my favourite shots.  It was one of the few that were in colour, most likely because it would have been a crime to decolourise such a shot.  A ribbon of thick golden honey lit from behind by brilliant sunlight streamed down over a woman's erect brown nipple and oozed down her creamy body.  You could almost feel her lover's longing to chase after it with his tongue. 

Cullen spared the book only a momentary glance as he pulled me atop him.  "I fancy that myself, Ellie.  Maybe in the morning...."

He was fitting my hips square over his groin.  He wasn't hard but the fleshy bulge was obscenely large.  I could feel it under me, warm and plump.  "I haven't any honey," I said stupidly.  How can he possibly expect me to have a rational conversation when he's rubbing against me like that?  Does he have any idea how bloody long it's been for me? 

A low laugh burbled in his chest.  "Well, I don't know a good English gel who doesn't have a pot of jam stashed about somewhere.  We'll make do..."  His eyes twinkled as he pulled off his shirt in one careless motion and flung it away.  "But first I want to kiss... and lick..." He flipped us over.  "...and bite... and suck and fuck.... and fuck some more..."  He rammed his crotch against mine with a grunt to punctuate his words.  "...until we're both in a stupor...." 

"Oh, God!"  Soldier or not, had he any idea of the size of my - er - appetite, he mightn't have been so cocky.    

His steel toed boots and socks hit the ground and he was covering me once again.  "And I swear to you that in the morning, if you haven't kicked me out by then for being too fucking rude," his dirty smile was back, "or if that sweet little cunt of yours isn't too fucking raw," I was so aroused I couldn't even gasp at his purposeful crudity.  "Then I promise breakfast - with jam - is on me."  He palmed my breast through the satin and tweaked my nipple.  "Or you..."

I almost couldn't even process the images he was putting into my head.  I was suddenly overwhelmed by him.  All those muscles dusted with a light furring of black hair.  I never imagined he would be so chiseled.  Under his clothes, his body was deceptively sculpted, lean and muscular... and the tattoos!  You know I couldn't keep my mouth off those.  He isn't the only one who likes to bite.  And the way his jeans rode low on his hips.... it was like sensory nirvana for someone like me-- the rasp of his hair, the flavours of smoke and alcohol in his kiss, the taste of salt and soap on his skin, the musky sent of our arousal, the uneven sound of his breathing, the little purrs of pleasure he made deep in his throat when our bodies rubbed together, the way he looked hauling out that beefy trunk of a cock as we kicked away the last of his clothes...

I tried not to think about how well our carnal tastes seemed to suit, telling myself again and again this was just a bit of frivolous casual sex.  So what if he was irreverent and shamelessly virile and had a body that would make angels weep?  (To say nothing of the tastiest cock I've ever seen in my life!)  I wasn't about to fall for the likes of him.  Even I'm not that big a fool. 

I might only have a single (and hopefully not so silent) night with him, but I damn sure intended to savour every last moment of it.

CULLEN

I just wanted to get naked as soon as possible so I could focus on getting her naked.  That prospect interested me far more than making a show of getting my own clothes off.  Usually I like to give them a bit of a show; I can be a bit of a showoff in the right mood, but right now all I could think about was getting her naked under me.

As focused as I was on the job at hand, it was only then that it dawned on me.... that wanker White had divested me of my stash of condoms as well as a few other items.  

Fuck.  No adult male ever likes to find himself in this position- hard as can be, poised over a sexy willing girl who's half out of her mind with want..... and condomless.  I haven't been caught without a rubber since I was... well, never you mind about that.  I had a very early start with the ladies.  But for all the stupid fucked-up risks I find myself taking these days, I've got a bit of a hang up about going bareback.  One too many close calls in my youth, I reckon.  A child is the last responsibility I need right now.  I can't even remember to pick up my fucking cleaning.     

"Fuck.  I don't fucking believe this."  I half groaned against the swell of her firm little tits.  The satin was wet from my mouth.  Again I wondered at my capacity for erotic thought even in the midst of a serious situation.       

"What?"  Those blue eyes of hers were blinking up at me and she was starting to slip out of the mood.  I ground against her to buy myself a little time.  She moaned softly but her eyes were still open, looking up at me while she waited for me to go on.  Like I could tell her the truth?  I can just hear it now.  'Sorry, luv.  No rubbers on me.  Bud Blessed White nicked my stash after an indecent proposal in the loo...'  That'd go over well, wouldn't it? 

So I lied.  Just a small one though.  "I don't have any condoms with me, sweetheart.  Lent 'em to a mate in need earlier tonight.  You know how it is.  I wasn't expecting to find myself here....."  I kissed her again for good measure.  That part was true.  I hadn't exactly planned this.

"Is that all?"  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she appraised me.  She looked.... ravenous.  There was no other word for it.  Not desperate.  Not randy.  Not hungry.  Ravenous.  Go on, Ellie.  Eat me alive...  My cock throbbed at the very idea.  "It doesn't matter.  I've one."

Thank Christ!  "I hope you have more than just one...."

I felt her hands pushing at me and was about to flop aside on the bed while she went to collect what I hoped would be a handful at least, but all she did was turn over and crawl to the table by the bed.  Which gave me the most perfect view of her sweet little arse.  No chance of me flopping aside now.  That strip of satin between her cheeks was driving me mad. 

There was no way I could keep my hands off that.  "Joy to the world....."  I sang.  She giggled.  Running my fingers down that erotic bit of satin, I leant in and sank my teeth into her bum.  Can you blame me?  She was practically waving it in my face! 

"Oh, God!"

She squirmed but I held her fast.  "Don't move."  I couldn't keep from touching her.  Or myself, for that matter.  Gathering up a packet or two that had fluttered from her fingers, I sat back and enjoyed the view for a moment.  But even more than seeing a peachy bum split by a thong, I like to see it pulled to the side, exposing what's underneath.  I don't expect I'm alone in that.  There is something about it that just fires my blood even more than a naked bum.  It's naughtier, I reckon.  A bit rude.  And I was in the mood to be dirty.

She gave me a pert little wiggle.  "You thinking of that snap from the book?  Doing me from behind like he did to her?"

I fucking was.  The urge to climb up on her, pull her hips back, push in and ride her hard was tearing at me, but I was in the mood to play first.  

"Bit like a leash, this."  I slipped a finger under the thong and wound it round my finger once, pulling up on it so it put the most delicious pressure on that sweet cunt of hers.  I shifted it about, pulling more and more until she was all but moaning for it.  "But I really fancy it more like this...."  Abandoning my play, I finally just tugged the strip of satin aside, baring it all to my gaze. 

She gasped.

I used both hands to spread her wider.  I almost can't help meself in that moment when what I so desperately want is finally revealed in the most graphic way possible.  Sort of lose my head a bit, you know?  I dove straight in.  Tasting.  Licking.  Sucking.  Even swatted her arse a time or two as well as things got hotter and hotter.  There's just something about that visual image that really gets to a man; watching my fingers penetrate in and out, seeing her responding, getting wetter and wetter, hearing her little gasping pants.  The visual of the strip of satin pulled aside and stretched tight over her right cheek made it seem even hotter.  What man doesn't get an erotic thrill out of getting into a woman's knickers? 

She had her first orgasm on my fingers and her second on my mouth.  By the time we were both naked and I'd gotten her turned over, I was too primed to let her play with me the way she wanted to.  She pouted a bit which made me think even more about what a pity it was that I wouldn't be enjoying the delights of her mouth this go round.  I particularly like watching a woman give head, especially one who enjoys it, but there was time for that later.  I'd waited as long as I could....

Knocking her hands away, I rolled the condom down myself.  She was lingering too much, though some part of me registered she hadn't fawned over my size the way most women do.  I wasn't sure what to make of that, and frankly, I was too aroused to care.  All I could think about was getting inside her.  My head was swimming from that taste of her and the way she smelled and the rude things we whispered to each other between kisses. 

It nearly killed me to pull back from that but I wanted to watch it go in.  Or maybe I wanted to watch her while I put it in.  I wasn't exactly sure.  Most women I'm with expect a show and I've kind of gotten used to giving one.  Most of them are also slightly scared it will hurt and it usually a bit does at first-- which fills me with a disturbing sense of gratification that makes me feel as guilty as it does proud, probably because I know I shouldn't feel that way... and yet still, I do.  

"Let me in, Ellie."   

She moaned as the head crowned.  

So did I. 

I'd noticed earlier that she liked to watch, but when I looked up, her eyes were closed blissfully which seemed at odds with the rosy flush on her cheeks and chest.  And with the fiery way her walls gripped me.

"Yes, more...."

I gave her more.  And more.  And more.  She tensed and her eyes opened but when I stopped she shifted under me, bringing her legs up a bit and I slid in that last final distance.  Usually that's too much.  I'm long over being arrogant about it.  It's a bit annoying actually, always having to be mindful of that last inch or two, never being able to let myself go for fear of getting too carried away and hurting someone. 

But this was.... bliss.  Scalding.  Creamy.  Snug.  Lying there staring into each other's faces made me feel more vulnerable than I anticipated so I closed my eyes and kissed her.  Started moving slow and deep, savouring it.  All the way out.  All the way in.  Again and again and again until it wasn't slow and gentle anymore but wild and on the edge of losing control, something I hadn't done sober in a very long time, but the grind of my pelvis flush against hers was too intense to resist. 

I indulged myself, pulling one of her legs up over my shoulder and wrapping the other round my waist before I really let go.  I couldn't remember the last time I'd been able to do that.  Everything became this red pulsing haze of lust that grew even thicker and harder to control when I felt her bite my shoulder and come.  I felt the rhythmic squeezing of her walls, the flick of her tongue on my skin, even the hot panting of her breath with every throaty cry.

I lost myself then, ramming wildly into her harder and harder, spurred to a fever pitch by her cries that were urging me on.  I'd planned on pulling out.  I hate condoms and prefer to pull out, rip the fucking thing way and toss off on her belly.  Give 'em a good show and lessen the chances of a condom breaking in that last violent struggle to come the way I really want to.  Deep and hard and without holding anything back.  

Only this time I couldn't help myself.  It felt too fucking good to just pound away, grinding in at the bottom of every downstroke.  Fired by the encouraging grip of her of her hands and her cunt, I lost myself in the wild thrill of pressing myself so closely to someone and just letting go in a violent, cathartic rush.  The wild pounding triggered a painfully intense climax; full body shudders, deep animal grunts....the works.  Must've shot fucking gallons.  I think my head exploded.  The rest of me sure as fuck did. 

I'm not sure what was better, that decadent pleasure that made my head swim or collapsing fully on her afterwards, every inch wrapped up snug and warm.  So much for pulling out-- but then again, there's always next time...

Only I didn't pull out that time either.  I lost control again, just like the first time.  Not sure what's wrong with me, but it just felt too good to resist.  So I didn't.  We just lay there afterwards, panting and grinning like two lazy cunts who've just lapped up all the cream.  I love the way women look after a good shag, all soft and rumpled with mussed hair and red, swollen lips, but I've never fancied how they usually cling afterwards.  It bothered me a bit that Esme wasn't curled round me, but then again she was a hard one to read.  Like this room of hers... nothing quite made sense.  I imagined anyone that eager to come would be constricting me like a boa after, but she was clear on the other side of the bed, legs still spread wide-- just how I'd left them.  The sight gave me a wholly inappropriate thrill.

"God, I could kill for a fag."

Not sure that's what I'd hoped for.  'God, that was fucking brilliant, Cullen!' maybe or 'I've never been shagged like that in my life!' or 'Feel like staying on for lunch as well as breakfast?'.  She had a point about the cigarettes though.  White swiped those from me as well and I could definitely use one.

"Me too."          

I did note with some satisfaction that when she rose to get them, her legs were none too steady.  Good for you, mate.  Well done!  

Slinging the used rubber into the bin by the bed, I wiped the slime off myself with her discarded panties and followed her out of the bedroom.  She was bent over, digging round under one of the couch cushions when I came out.  It gave me a great view of her arse (which momentarily distracted me from the strangeness of the act itself).

"Ah ha!"  She pulled out a rumpled pack with a flourish, took one for herself and tossed it over.  "I'm trying to quit," she said by way of explanation.  Strange girl.   

"Shall I...." I'd just shagged myself blind.  Twice.  The least I could do is open a window if she wants.  It was a bit of an awkward moment, both of us there - naked - in her lounge.  We'd never even been on a date.  Hell, I'd never even seen her lounge until that very moment.

"You crazy?  After that performance?"

"So you don't mind if I smoke in here then?"

She looked me up and down.  "Thought you were already, mate!"  

There was the ring of real satisfaction in her words and I felt a warm wave of masculine pleasure ripple through me.  It seemed to melt away the momentary awkwardness.  She found a lighter, used it and tossed it over as well. 

Her eyes closed as she drew in a deep drag.  "Ahh......."  She slumped back on the couch in obvious pleasure and put her feet up, allowing me another glorious view.  Gates of Heaven, mate.  Make no mistake.  She melted back into the pillows.  Eh, well if we're getting that comfortable....  Tucking the fag in my mouth, I sauntered over to her kitchen and opened the fridge.  I could eat a horse after that ride.  The contents of the fridge however were a disappointment; a half empty bottle of brown sauce, one bruised apple and an unopened jar of pickles that was blessedly sitting beside a six-pack of dark lager.  Yes!  There is a God.  It wouldn't be the first time I drank a meal.

Pulling out two, I frowned at the tidy little kitchen.  I doubted it got much use.  From the looks of her, she was one of those girls who never ate, the kind who moaned on pathetically about how fat they were and cried if they put on so much as an ounce on their bird-like frames.  I returned carrying two beers, taking in the place.  It was as eclectic as the bedroom had been though less openly seductive.  She still hadn't moved.  I handed her a beer.

"Thanks.  You want something to eat?"  She was eying my dangling cock as she said it and I laughed instead of retorting with something she definitely didn't deserve after the incredibly good time I'd just had in her bedroom.  "I know this great Thai place that delivers all night...."

I nodded to the fridge.  "So you do eat then."  Take out.  That explained it.  I don't like mysteries.

For some strange reason my words made her blush in a way that none of the crude things I'd said (and done) earlier had done.  Women.  Go figure.  

She pushed up from the couch with a grin.  "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, mate."  Tweaking my cock as she walked by, she grabbed up the phone and punched a button.  Fast food on speed dial?  I could grow to like her....

She looked over at me.  "Thai good?  Or you want something else?"

"Thai's fine.  I eat anything."

This time the look on her face was altogether different.  "Now that I believe."

Hey, I'm not that bad.  I do have standards.  Two arms... two legs... a pulse.  I nearly dropped my beer when she switched from English to what had to be Thai.  She spoke Thai?  Well, well, boyo... not exactly the caliber of your usual one night stands, now is she? 

She stopped mid flow and looked over at me.  "Beef?  Pork?  Mild.  Spicy?  What's your pleasure?"  Licking my lips, I appraised her naked body.  She got the message.

"Noodles... something spicy.  I don't care."  I was actually hungry enough after our little shagfest to eat the food rather than use it as a sex aid.  Amazing.  But then again, it had been an exceptionally good session.  She must have thought the same because it sure sounded like she was ordering a lot.   

Only this time when she spoke she wasn't quite so fluent and the flush was back over her creamy white skin.  While she finished up, I took another turn about the room, curious what else it might reveal about her.  Nothing I'd learned about her yet seemed to fit with any other part.  I reckoned she'd be the sort with a proper English flat down to the cozy on the teapot.  Somehow Moroccan bedrooms, raw wild sex and foreign tongues didn't quite seem to match up with what I'd expected to find from the girl who fled from me in the pub with some excuse about her specs. 

Her flat was an interesting mix of eclectic pieces that gave it a comfortable, homey feel despite the poor dead plant in the kitchen.  Not much of a green thumb then, is she?  There were more books than movies on the shelves and a music collection crammed full of that pathetically bad 80's music that always makes your move your arse even when you don't want to.  The kind that you know all the words to though you'd never admit it-- even under pain of death.

Most interesting still was the photo collection.  There were a few of a gorgeous old bird- her Mum maybe?  More of a distinguished looking Asian man.  Wonder who he is?  Couple of Jeff and Paul.  It was clear the three of them were good mates.  Mixed in with those were a couple of candids that looked like they were taken next door.  None of her that I could see though.  There was one that caught my eye, however.  Had to be her sister.  Looked a bit like her only with flaming red hair and a knockout body, fantastic round tits and a juicy arse like a ripe peach.  I felt a bit guilty for it, but at that moment all I could think was that I'd crawled into the wrong sister's window.

I heard her come up behind me.  "Nice snaps.  This your mum?"  I pointed and she nodded.  "What about her?  You got a sister?  I do.... two brothers as well..."

Her blush was back.  "Er... no.  That's me.  I have this thing about dying my hair..."  As if I couldn't tell.  She wasn't blonde down below.  But that didn't explain how she went from Anna Nicole to Calista Flockhart.  I could tell she was uncomfortable so I didn't push... but there was definitely a story there and I intended to find out exactly what it was. 

Meanwhile, my brain was on overload imagining her with the kind of curves she had in that picture.  I'm certain she wasn't unaware my thoughts had taken yet another carnal turn.  It was rather hard to hide with my bits dangling for all the world to see.  I could feel it twitching. 

Putting her arms around my neck, I walked her back towards the kitchen.

"The... uh... the food will be here soon... they always deliver in under thirty minutes...."

I grinned and bent her back over the table.  "Then it's your lucky night, luv.  I can deliver in under twenty...."

ESME

When I woke the next morning I was alone.  I almost thought I'd dreamed it but when I sat up the musky sex-fug in my bedroom and throbbing in my fanny and told me otherwise.  But that was nothing compared to the throbbing in my chest.  He'd left without so much as a word?

Bastard!

I looked around for any proof I might be wrong... but I wasn't.  His clothes and boots were gone off my floor where we'd flung them last night.  I bloody hate men!  I can't believe I trusted him.  'Morning sex with jam' my arse!  Men will say anything to get a girl to fall into bed with them.  Fucking knobheads, the lot of them!  Every time I let one close he stomps my insides into little itty bitty-

A rumpled head appeared in my bedroom doorway.  Followed by the rest of him.

"Hark!  I come bearing gifts!  It isn't frankincense and myrrh, but then again given my entrance last night, one could hardly consider me 'wise'."  He was brandishing a white paper sack with grease spots that had to be pastries from the little bakery down the way.  In his other hand was a carton of fresh cream.  "Coffee's in the kitchen.... you got a pitcher for the cream?  I'm particular about breakfast in bed.  It's the most important meal of the day, you know."  His eyes glittered with a carnal light.

"Pinch me."

"Maybe in a minute," he laughed, jangling the cream at me.  "I'm a man on a mission here, luv.  You can make it up to me for thinking I'd be the kind of asshole who shoves off like some thief in the night by telling me where I can find a jug."  He shook the cream at me again.  "I've plans for this....  goes a treat with honey... or jam... lucky for you I picked up both."

Forget Christmas miracles, I've died and gone to Heaven!  

"Cupboard next to the fridge.  Bottom shelf.  On the left."  Like I was going to waste any time?

"That's my girl!"  

He bounded out and I threw myself back on the bed and mouthed 'Oh!  My!  God!!!' at the ceiling.  I won't admit to kicking my legs in complete giddy abandon, but you all know what a silly cow I can be when it comes to this sort of thing.   

While he banged about in the kitchen, I raced around - had a wee, brushed my teeth... bedhair?  Nothing to do for that.  Pity!  Flinging open the window to clear a bit of the fug, I flicked the covers back as straight as I could at warp speed and jumped back into bed, my heart pounding wildly, more from the prospect of sharing 'the most important meal of the day' with Cullen than because I'd just run around like a headless chicken. 

Bok bok!  

It's just casual sex, Esme.  Get a grip on yourself!  But then again, it's not every day a girl gets casual sex with a side order of honey and jam, now is it? 

He returned carrying a plate of flaky scones and a tray with coffee, a jar of orange marmalade and another of golden honey.... and of course the jug of cream.  Did I mention he was stark bollock naked?  My, my!  Looks like he brought a hefty sausage and jumbo eggs as well.  Lucky for him I've the appetite to do such repast justice. 

Setting the items aside, he grabbed up the jug of cream and drank straight from it with a grin, smacking his lips lewdly.  "I like cream."  I was still reeling when he pulled back the covers and poured it straight between my legs.  "And now... breakfast...."

What else can I say except: 

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!