Page 4

H e knocked three times and then waited as the sound echoed nine times off the tower’s inner walls. The air was thick with the sickly-sweet reek of drugs and somewhere a couple were shouting, their thunderous curses echoing through the walls like clangs on a bell. However, he was too distracted by the painful ache in his groin to take much notice. Digging his hand into his pocket, he tried to relocate his still swollen erection, but the trousers were barely large enough for him to thrust himself down the right leg. The inner pent-up agony persisted, nonetheless.

Shifting uncomfortably, he raised his hand to knock again, only to hear the click of the lock’s inner mechanics unlocking before the door swung inward to reveal a vision of such beauty that Richard’s breath caught, his engorged flesh growing ever more painful. Gone were her tight blue jeans and pink floral top. Instead, Rebeca had changed into a lacy, black robe that was tied around her narrow waist and barely covered her pale ivory thighs. She had also taken her hair out of its braid so that it cascaded down her back in a tangle of lustrous dark curls and framed her soft features.

She lit up at the sight of him. “Oh Mr Martin, thank God, I was starting to worry you weren’t coming.”

Once again, Alice’s words echoed in his ears and Richard felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he realised he was staring. Flashing a hollow smile and praying she wouldn’t notice the bulge straining against his right trouser leg, he said, “Rebecca, how many times have I asked you to call me Richard? Mr Martin makes me sound like some whining old geezer.”

“Well, you are an old man, Mr Martin.” Giggling playfully, she stepped aside to let him enter. “Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

“Ahh…tea, milk and two sugars please and, thanks ,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm at the joke as he moved into the flat. The layout was almost identical to that of his and Alice’s and he quickly moved down the hall into the Blaire’s living room. With dim, off-cream walls and filled only by a small jumble of cheap mismatched furniture, it looked larger than it actually was.

A grubby old grey and blue denim sofa faced an even more ancient Panasonic television that had been mounted upon a near modern looking glass and steel stand that was certainly more functional than decorative. There was a single, three-tiered, mahogany veneer, bookcase, its shelves sagging under a dozen piles of dog-eared military and spy fiction paperbacks, a ceramic bowl atop a walnut look-alike end table under the window, as well as a massive opening night poster from the 80’s hit-movie Predator that had been framed and hung on a wall. At the back of the room, a tall display case of solid teak stood in stark contrast to the items of veneered plywood scattered around it and held an impressive collection of Rebecca’s swimming trophies. From a young age, the girl had been an avid swimmer and had even gone on to represent Gloucester in three county events, but after her parents’ divorce, she had lost much of her enthusiasm for the sport. Now she rarely went more than once or twice a month.

The computer desk stood opposite the display case, the laptop already open and booting up. It was an ancient HP that hadn’t been updated beyond Window’s Vista . Sitting on the threadbare ottoman that the Blaire’s employed as a chair and grimacing at the uncomfortable sensation in his semi-hard manhood, he logged into Rebecca’s account and was immediately confronted by the problem as a virus conjured up an obviously falsified police lockdown. He tapped a few select keys, but to no effect. Next, he tried to open the start menu, but the virus brought up a warning box and cancelled the command. Finally, he logged out and entered Derik’s account. The result was the same.

After a moment, Rebecca entered with his tea and placed it on an old Top Gear magazine lying beside the laptop. “Any luck?”

“Does this happen every time you log on?”

“Yes. It’s been like this now for two days,” she replied, her voice trembling as she peered far enough over his shoulder for him to taste her scent, reminding him of the first breath of spring. The scent steeled his length. “Can you fix it?”

Richard didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed down on the power button until the screen went blank. Restarting the machine, he quickly switched to safe mode before letting it load up. Again, logging into the girl’s profile, he waited a moment to make sure it didn’t change again before going into its control panel and initiating a system restore to the pre-set point. It was a pretty routine trick that would work 99 times out of a 100. However, when he logged on for the third time, the scowling face of the law immediately opposed him.

“It might take a while.”

Repeating the process of placing it in safe mode, he then filed through the recent system downloads and found that there were more than two hundred from the past thirty-six hours. He deleted them all, sipping his tea and cursing under his breath every time one or a dozen would randomly regenerate. When all of them were finally put down for good, he restarted the laptop and was finally met by Rebecca’s normal background of a ‘ Hello Kitty’ poster.

Exhaling a long breath, he gratefully pushed away from the desk and stretched his legs out to relieve the cramp building in his knees. It felt like he’d been at the desk for hours, but his tea was still lukewarm, so it couldn’t have been any more than twenty minutes.

Throwing one leg over and around the ottoman, he twisted to face the sofa where Rebecca was now reclining, watching some cheesy Jennifer Aniston rom-com that was playing on ITV2 whilst eating from a carton of ice cream. The sight of her soft pink lips wrapped around the spoon sent a hot pulse straight down his spine and he heard her moan in delight, her soft brown eyes falling closed as she savoured its sweetness…

“There you go Rebecca, all done.”

“Really!” Startled out of her trance, her head whirled to face him and as she shifted, the lace of her gown moved with her, flashing him a momentary glimpse of her soft ivory bosom. “Ohhh…thank you, thank you, Mr Martin!”

“You’re welcome, Rebecca.” It was time to go; he knew it as well as he knew the desire stirring in his loins. And yet he could not will his legs to move. “But you should really consider updating your security, or perhaps switching to a more secure browser.”

“I know we do. I keep telling Dad, but he just ignores me. He thinks it will cost too much money. Ohhh…thank you so much Mr Martin, I don’t know what I would have done without you.” Then, almost giddy and still clutching her carton of ice cream, she sprang up from her seat and raced across the room to throw her arms around him in a tight hug. The embrace caught Richard off guard, and he could do little more than bask in the feeling of her young body pressed against him. He could feel her breath on his neck, hot as a furnace and tickling his every weak spot as the sweetness of her scent filled his every breath, causing a fog to descend upon his mind.

Time seemed to slip away. He couldn’t say for how long she clung to him, yet when she finally broke the embrace, he felt light-headed and she couldn’t meet his gaze. A blush touched her cheeks pink, and she quickly stepped back. He should go now. This was his chance, before things got even more complicated; all he had to do was politely say goodbye, leave, and then everything would be fine…

Yet the moment came and went, and the silence hung between them as a heavy iron collar, binding them to each other.

“You’re eating ice cream, what flavour?” he finally asked, desperate for anything that might ease the tension.

Rebecca, however, seemed to have forgotten all about the carton and it was only when she looked down and saw it there that she realised icy drops of condensation were running off her fingers. “Ohhh…it is Tesco’s Cherrylicious.” She had such a sweet voice. Why hadn’t he ever noticed it before? “Would you like some?”

Damn, he had always had a weakness for cherries. He knew he shouldn’t, yet when she offered him the spoon, its head filled with a blend of fluffy white vanilla and thick gooey cherry, he couldn’t resist and obediently opened his mouth to accept the sweet treat. The taste of it flooded his senses, as deliciously bitter as it was sweet, and he swallowed it all greedily. Yet as she pulled the spoon away, a single creamy drop escaped the corner of his mouth and ran wetly down his chin. He moved to brush it aside, but Rebecca’s spoon was quicker, and she scooped up the droplet before bringing it to her own lips.

“Mmm…delicious,” she moaned, and he realised it wasn’t the ice cream’s bitter-sweet flavour she had tasted, but his own. Seeming to sense his scrutiny, she suddenly stilled, and when their eyes met, they both knew the truth.

Heart pounding, he reached out and took the utensil from her before hurling it aside with a flick of his wrist. Then they came together, and he could feel his head spinning as their lips met. Rebecca didn’t hesitate; the ice cream carton was gone, discarded. He knew not where or when, and she was upon him, straddling his waist. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him hungrily, her lips parting and her small tongue pressing against his lips, demanding entry.

Richard knew he should stop this before things went too far, but his body was acting on its own and his mouth opened to accept her, passionately returning the kiss as his hands seized her backside and crushed her to him. She tastes like…cherries .

Surrendering to the moment, a low growl rumbled through him as he lost himself in the intoxicating sweetness of her lips. He could feel her breasts pressing against him as her tongue ran wild within his mouth, brushing over his teeth and tickling the roof of his orifice. She let out a small moan as his tongue slipped over hers and hotly twirled around the probing muscle, pressing it back into the warmth of her mouth. All too aware of his fully engorged arousal straining for release from its tight confines, he used his hold on her buttocks to draw her closer, letting her feel the effect she was having on him as their tongues danced. Whimpering with pleasure, Rebecca eagerly responded by rocking her hips against his own and a hot shiver ran down his spine as he felt the damp heat of her desire through the mesh of garments.

Only when his breath was exhausted, and the need for air utterly dire, did he break the kiss. Yet drunk on her sweetness, he couldn’t stop; grabbing deep ragged breaths, he swooped down and began to nip a trail of fire from the sensitive spot just under her ear, down the soft slope of her neck, and to the exposed crook of her shoulder. Gasping hotly in a mixture of pleasure and pain at every tiny subtle bite, Rebecca tilted her head back, exposing more skin for him to kiss as her fingers tangled in his hair, a ragged moan escaping her as his tongue traced the ridge of her collarbone.

Richard didn’t care that he was leaving marks, that the girl’s neck was red and glistening; he couldn’t stop, couldn’t get enough. He was addicted to her taste, her scent, the softness of her skin, and even the very feel of her writhing against him drove him wild; but it wasn’t enough.

Tight and firm, her lace covered buttocks filled his hands nicely and he couldn’t resist squeezing the luscious mounds, making the beauty moan, before trailing his hands up along her sides, mentally mapping the sensual curves before hooking a finger over the robe’s belt. With a quick tug, the tie came undone, and the garment fell open. Keeping one hand locked to her narrow waist, the other slid beneath the folds of the robe to explore the previously hidden delights. Softer than silk but hot to the touch, her skin trembled at his lightest contact and he ran his fingers teasingly over the bumps of her ribs before coming to her bosom.

His hand moulded to her left breast, eager digits kneading the soft, supple flesh whilst his thumb and forefinger rolled the pebbled nipple. Thrilled by his touch, she arched her back, pressing her cleavage further into his palm, and moaned in utter wonder as he trailed his tongue along her collarbone in small gentle kisses, soothing the bite marks, her fingers tugging at his hair each time his thumb playfully squeezed her pert bud.

"Oh Mr Martin…mmm…yessss… harder !" she gasped, her breathing ragged with barely suppressed moans, before bowing her head and plunging her tongue into his ear, arousing him further.

His cock jumping at the strange sensation, Richard growled before releasing his hold on her breast and rearing backwards, ceasing his attentions to her neck, drawing an all too audible whimper of protest from Rebecca. Paying no mind to her discontent, he reached up with both hands and pushed the robe off her shoulders and down her arms, leaving her flawless ivory skin naked to his eyes, except for a matching thong of black lace. He wantonly devoured the sight of her near naked beauty. Lithe and willowy, she had a swimmer’s body and though he was accustomed to the sight of her flat stomach and long shapely legs, it was as if he were seeing her for the first time. Full and firm, her tear-drop shaped breasts rose and fell with her every breath. Their milky complexion contrasted perfectly with her dusky pink nipples.

“I know they’re…not very big,” admitted Rebecca, her voice flat and barely above a whisper, drawing his attention up to her face as she disentangled her fingers from his hair to cross her arms over her chest. She couldn’t meet his gaze and all the confidence was leeching from her features to leave an unmistakable mask of doubt, perhaps even fear; fear that he might find her unsatisfactory or repulsive.

The very idea filled him with such sour emotion that he was almost overwhelmed by the urge to crush her to him and promise her she was beautiful. Instead, he raised his hand to her wrists and gently lowered her arms. “No Rebecca, they’re perfect; you’re perfect.”

She looked at him in alarm, her eyes misty with tears, yet before she could speak, his lips touched hers in a kiss. It was sweet and tender, and she didn’t resist. When he pulled away, she tried to follow, but he swooped down and took her right nipple between his lips, making her gasp in pleasure. She arched into his touch, giving him easier access to her ample cleavage as his tongue playfully circled her nipple, drawing tantalising rings of fire around the stiff bud before sensually grazing it with his teeth.

“Ohhh…Mr Martin!” she moaned; he could feel her rocking earnestly against the bulge of his arousal. Her small hands moved to claw at his head, seizing great clumps of his raven locks before running down his neck and roaming the broad plane of his shoulders and back, his muscles bunching and contracting at the feel of her nails scraping through the thin cotton of his shirt. Shivering in a mix of pleasure and agony at her sharp touch, his hand moved back up to roughly knead her neglected breast while his lips continued their assault. No longer teasing, he began to suckle ravenously, his tongue skilfully flicking across her nipple while the rough pad of his thumb massaged its twin, enjoying the way she responded to his every touch.

No match for such an onslaught, Rebecca’s head tipped back. She uttered a torrent of delightful sounds as she basked in the sensations he was stirring within her. Moaning and writhing against the trapped bulge of his arousal, her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, her digits clumsy from her inexperience and desperation to rid him of the garment. When the last popped free, the shirt fell open and her hand moved down between their bodies, cupping the weight of his cock through his trousers.

“So-so big…” she gasped out hotly and he couldn’t help uttering a low moan against her breast at the feeling of her fingers closing around him, her palm jerking up and down as she massaged his length. “Ooh God; please…take me to bed, Mr Martin!”

With his mind fogged by lust, Richard couldn’t resist her and released her breast before seizing her buttocks with both hands and standing up from the ottoman. Squealing with delight, Rebecca crossed her legs over his waist and wrapped her arms securely around his neck, effectively clinging to him for dear life as he hoisted her up and carried her out of the living room and into the darkened hallway. Though this was the first time he’d been in this part of the Blaire’s flat, as its layout was identical to that of his own, it was easy for him to navigate the gloom of the narrow antechamber towards the minor bedroom at its end, which he guessed was Rebecca’s. He was tempted to try for the handle, but the feeling of Rebecca’s lips on his neck persuaded him there was no time. One good kick was all he needed to have the door swing open.