With a sweet caress her hair brushed against his unshaven face. The skin of her arms and her eager fingers had a porcelain quality, like milk, ivory and snow...
Rain swept in and battered the double-glazing hidden behind the curtains. It was time to get up. Habitually, and regardless of the weather, he slipped on slippers and dressing gown. Before opening the drapes, he peeked out into the dreariness of a late October garden at dawn. It felt as if the whole world was going to suck the life and colour from him, if not today, then one day soon – a day just like this one.
Kisses done, his breakfast of toast and marmalade sat solidly in his stomach, but the two cups of tea sloshed rhythmically with his gait as he marched to the station, on time as usual. Tardiness appalled him, his own especially. Turning the corner on Station Approach he saw the familiar yellow streak of the train’s roof paint – for some reason the 7:34 was early, either that or his watch was slow, and that just could not be. The guard, seeing his extra spurt through the car park –his umbrella waving with a clown’s comedic bounce– held the electronic door for much longer than was expected, and received a smile-less nod for his pains. His hefty sprint caught him out of breath.
Bad form, really bad form, he repeated to himself in dizzy recovery, panting beside the locked toilet door. At one point he wiped his forehead with his hand and, steadying himself on a bend, left a streaming sweated residue on an advertisement for Eurorail. Little drips cascaded down the model’s fixed smile, a taste of summer freedom, the deal now expired.
Under canvass she removed her top to reveal the soft skin of a twenty-something, enthusiastic without being childish. She set-to unbuttoning his shirt thirsty for his manliness: how long had he waited, had they both waited? At last, the occasion they had prepared themselves for what was now upon them. She slid her delicate fingers beneath the waistband of his suit trousers to encompass his enormous member, wet with dripping anticipation…
The catch on the toilet snapped back from red to green and the door swept back.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” he said, reversing without looking.
She broke the briefest of smiles.
That was the trigger. Here she was; the one – she it was, with her lightness of touch, the playfulness of her hair and joyful laugh, who would bring happiness at last. How is it that the universe kept doing this?
Effervescent water was still pouring from the toilet tap and splashing the floor. In a hurry, she brushed past him, her breasts unavoidably rubbing against his jacket lapels. He was instantly and irrevocably aroused, taken, smitten. “Here, let me get that,” he gallantly offered, and stepped into the toilet, briefcase in hand and umbrella under the arm. By this time the water had stopped, the spring mechanism cutting off the water with a thud. He turned around, but her face had gone.
Peering through the sliding door glass down the central aisle, he watched as she breezed back to her seat, her hair bobbing slightly with each step.
Without stopping, her delicious mouth kissed all the way from his chin to his cock, rising as a leviathan to her willing oral administrations. But she was not done: her body turned, manoeuvring herself to receive his pleasures as she also gave – of the sort only he was capable. For now he was master of her body. The smooth sides of her torso fell within his grasp, and with them her bobbling breasts…
The train pulled into a busy Paddington three minutes over time. He wondered whether he had anything to do with it. Rain also continued in London, giving the glass roof of the station an even harder battering. He knew there would be no taxi. Would there be time to catch the bus? It would be full, and the roads would be gorged with the slippery-wheeled drivers, mums on school runs, the hoi palloi.
And as he stared across Praed Street, waiting to cross with brolly hoisted, he caught sight of her again. She was just on the other side, presumably waiting to come back over. She saw him, a mere glimpse with the eyes, though enough to determine a brief recognition, just before a bike courier, taking advantage of a bus pulling over at a stop before the lights, hit full acceleration, rewarding the inattentive commuter with a forceful side-swipe that brought him down with a crack, his temple receiving the full blow from the kerb.
She finished him magnificently, the coup de grace of full and lasting satisfaction, draining his sperm, his very life essence away, yes – fully sucking his life…
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