I woke with the sheets tangled round my legs and an aching tightness which gnawed at my abdomen, I felt agitated but couldn’t place the source of it. I lay in bed while the unfamiliar curtains and wardrobe came into focus and struggled to remember where I was.
My labia were slick with arousal and my breasts felt heavy, slowly I ran my palm over a hardened nipple and a thrill buzzed direct to my pussy. It seemed I’d had a sexy dream, the frustration of unfinished business cramped – a tangible ache deep inside. Grasping at the wisps of subconscious thoughts, I realised my dream was about Hamish; a materialisation of my longing to get to know him intimately. Hazy memories of our hands exploring each other’s curves and crevices remained. Us kissing, his fingers digging into my flesh while our hips ground had conspired to make me throb with need.
I swung my legs out of bed, reluctantly shrugging off the hot dream. It was Christmas morning at my parents’ house but, unlike bygone days, no stocking was waiting by the Christmas tree. We spent a quiet day – helping my Mum cook the Christmas dinner and watching TV, my Dad fiddled about with the jigsaw puzzle that I’d given him. Boxing day was more of the same, the jigsaw now halfway completed. It was chilled, but alone in my room my subliminal frustration would surface. I went to sleep thinking wistfully about Hamish, his sensuous lips pressing against mine, before they travelled lower.
Next day, we were clearing the lunchtime plates away when the phone rang. To my surprise I heard my Dad say,
“Hello Hamish. Yes she’s here.” Who me?
He handed over the phone. “Hello?”
Hamish asked how I was, if I’d had a nice Christmas, – we exchanged small-talk. I realised this phone call was reminiscent of my teenage years – my parents were hanging onto every word at my end of the conversation! When Hamish invited me over to watch films and have a bite of supper, I realised I should check with my Mum – this was awkward! She smiled and made a “shoo” gesture so I agreed to visit, feeling both flattered and flustered.
Driving to Hamish’s home I questioned what I was doing – he was so much younger than me, was it inappropriate? The devil on my shoulder took on the persona of David who I worked with.
“Go for it! A younger bloke with an older bird? He’ll love it! Teach him some new tricks!”
It did stroke my ego to imagine I could ‘mentor’ him! An unsettling vision of ‘Mrs Robinson’ popped into my head, which I shook quickly off – the age gap wasn’t that big! Besides, Hamish’s previous girlfriend had also been older, so I wasn’t likely to corrupt him!
I wore tight, dark jeans with a slouchy jumper and long ‘riding’ boots. Because the jumper had a wide neck which showed off my shoulders a lot, I’d worn a cute emerald green bra and (of course) a matching stretchy lace thong.
I parked in the town square – deserted on a Bank Holiday – and rapped on his front door. When Hamish swung it open my knees nearly buckled in the glare of his megawatt smile! He was good enough to eat dressed in a casual hoodie and button fly jeans which hugged his bum. Moving to the kitchen to get a drink, I noticed he still limped, but was no longer using a stick.
“I see your leg’s getting better!”
“Yes, much less painful. Just my ribs now – keeping me awake at night.”
I think I blushed a little, reminded of the steamy dreams which had been disturbing my sleep. I watched his elegant fingers fiddle with the fancy coffee machine, making a latte for me and a cappuccino for him. I couldn’t block the image of those fingers plucking at my nipples and the delicate skin puckered in response. I needed to get hold of myself. Although we were alone, he’d invited me over for company, probably lonely with his family away.
We adjourned upstairs to the living room – an informal den, nothing like the reception room for the party. The sofa was a large L-shape and a flat-screen TV dominated one wall, with speakers for surround sound. Hamish sank into the cushions and offered me a bowl of popcorn. The conversation wasn’t quite so easy, we were being too polite, neither of us even wanting to choose a film! In the end we opted for comedy, so sharing the bowl of popcorn and sipping coffee we laughed along to a classic.
When the credits rolled Hamish looked at me causing a frisson of sexual tension to run right through, we had a moment there!
“Would you like something stronger?”
“A drink would be nice, but I have to drive home.”
“But not for hours surely?” He cocked his eyebrow and my gut twisted with desire. “And we’ll be eating later.”
“Okay then, what have you got?”
“Let’s take a look,” and natural as anything he took my hand and led me down to the kitchen. My heart thrilled, I wasn’t imagining our attraction.
Hamish proudly showed me an array of spirits, left over from the party.
“What’s your poison?” he put ice in two large tumblers then turned to face me.
“Whisky and diet coke please.”
“Really? Not vodka? Perhaps I’ll try that too!” His grin was infectious, I smiled back. “You have a really beautiful smile, you know that?” He was suddenly serious, his pale eyes meeting mine.
I didn’t know what to say, I’m rubbish at accepting compliments, but when he moved in for a kiss, I melted into the moment. One of his hands went under my hair, to the nape of my neck. The other started at my waist, but as our kiss deepened and our tongues danced it slipped down to my butt and fondled the curve of my rear. I used this moment to let my own questing hands enjoy his deliciously muscled back and chiselled pecs. Pressed together I enjoyed the outline of his cock trapped in his jeans, moistening the narrow gusset of my thong in response.
“I hardly dared dream you’d be interested,” Hamish’s voice was hoarse with wonder.
“You’re so sophisticated.” This was music to my ears!
“You’re not exactly a shy innocent,” I giggled up at him.
“You don’t know the half of it!” he laughed with a wink, but went back to making our drinks.
Taking my hand he led me upstairs to the den, and this time we snuggled close together. The film made no sense because we took so many interludes to kiss and touch. Here’s something I’d forgotten being in a long term, stale relationship – the excitement and build up caused by heavy petting!
He swung my legs over his lap and cupped a buttock whilst he pushed up my sweater to nibble at my breasts through the lace of my bra – bliss! I loved that he could tease me even with my underwear still on. I ran my hands over his chest, bare under his hoodie, which I’d unzipped. His flawless skin was smooth and so taut over a layer of muscles. I nibbled a line from his neck along his collarbone, before latching onto a neat pink nipple which I nipped and sucked. Hamish groaned aloud.
“You little minx! I like that.”
I switched sides, I nibbled and pulled at that nipple too.
“I must have my revenge!” he cried, reaching into my bra to spill my breasts from the emerald cups. Mirroring my tweaking and pinching he sucked on the buds of my nipples til my pussy was soaking and slippery, and I felt dizzy from gasping!
“Hamish, I’m not sure we should,” I tried to exercise some self control, despite the pulse in my pussy thumping loud enough for him to hear.
I was so horny I could hardly think straight, why not indeed? It wasn’t like I was corrupting him or cheating on anyone. What was to stop me sleeping with this younger man although we’d only just met? My libido was twanging like a bow string, and my pussy was melting like chocolate. Hamish was gazing at me with a deadly combination of lust and adoration in his eyes.There was only one more thing to settle;
“As long as you have some condoms, lets do it!”
His eyes twinkled wickedly and again he took my hand, before leading me to his bedroom.
To be continued …
This story is submitted for Marie Rebel’s great meme #WickedWednesday. The prompt this week was roots, so you should check out the other participants to see what they submitted. My delectable ’emerald bra’ picture is courtesy of Petra Pan who’s fabulous reviews can be found here!