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| Blogs > TheWelshKnight > Words and musings |
Chapter Five - Part One
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Chapter Five - Part One Susannah remained at the kitchen sink, her back to the window even as she had heard his car come to a stop on the gravel outside. He was ten minutes late and she wondered whether it might be by design. She swallowed the last of the wine, quickly rinsing the glass under running water and placing it on the draining board just as he knocked on the door. She took a deep breath, straightened her hair and the light summer dress she had chosen, and walked into the hallway, adopting an air of casualness that was paper-thin. “Hello neighbour,” he said with a smile. “Hi,” she replied, unable to disguise the blush gently warming her checks. “Come on in.” Susannah turned away before he could say anything else and he followed her back into the kitchen. She wondered whether his eyes were on her or the room. She could feel her heart in her chest. Self-consciousness swept over her in waves. “I was just making some coffee,” she said, gesturing vaguely towards the kitchen table. Jack took a seat while Susannah busied herself filling the cafetiere with water from the steaming kettle. She knew that if she turned he would be smiling at her, eyeing her every move. She could not bring herself to look. Eventually, when there was no way left to avoid the inevitable, she carried the coffee and empty cups to the table and sat down, refusing still to meet his eye. Seconds ticked by. Susannah toyed with the hem of her dress. “So,” he said at last, and she could hear the amusement in his voice. “I,” she said, and stumbled for something to say. “I really didn’t thank you properly…” “It was my pleasure – besides, you know I’m not the sort of man to leave a damsel in distress,” he said, revelling in her discomfort. Her face flushed again at the memory of the messages they had exchanged. “I know, but…” Her words trailed off. “But what?” he said, a seriousness creeping into his tone. She looked up and met his eye for the first time, instantly regretting the automatic movement and turned away again, red-faced. Silence descended once again and Susannah fought the urge to say something, anything, to break the mounting tension. Suddenly, she felt absurd. She had invited a strange man to her home, in hope of what? Perhaps she had completely misunderstood. Perhaps he had been laughing at her all this time. The giddy excitement of her morning drained away in an instant and Susannah wondered whether she should ask him to leave. Jack shifted in his chair and Susannah’s internal dialogue fell silent. He slowly reached across the table and her pulse quickened as for the briefest of moments she thought he was about to touch her. Instead his hand came to rest on the plunger of the cafetiere. Susannah sat transfixed, breathing hard, her heart thumping, staring at his hand. With an unspoken mastery, he tested the pressure beneath his palm, assessing the readiness of the liquid, considering its strength and viscosity before slowly applying an undiscernible pressure. Smoothly, relentlessly, his hand came down as if succumbing to an irresistible gravity rather than by virtue of his will. The long, thin plunger shaft disappeared into the glass, sending clouds of coffee grains billowing with the dark liquid. He paused again, his hand at rest on the stainless steel dome once the jug had consumed the full length of the shaft and the transaction was complete. Susannah became aware that he had been watching her for the duration of the process. Though she dared not look, she knew that he was smiling. A second passed, then two, then three. He lifted the jug and poured them both a drink. Susannah played with the hem of her dress under the table. Her fingers trembled beyond his sight. “So how was your meeting?” “My meeting?” She was grateful that he broke the silence. “Yes. It was fine. Better than fine, in fact. It went well.” Her mind flashed back to the oak-panelled office and the confidence he had given her. “I’m glad,” said Jack. “I guess it’s lucky I found you when I did.” “Are you married,” she blurted. Jack laughed. Her cheeks flushed. “No,” he said. “I’m not married.” “Good,” she said. “I mean…, no, sorry, I just…” Jack laughed again and she squirmed in her seat. “Would you like something a little stronger,” she said, nodding towards her untouched coffee. “A glass of wine maybe?” “Sure,” he said. “Why not? Though I hope you’re not going to try to take advantage of my good nature.” Her face turned crimson and she got up from the table and went towards the cupboard where she kept the glasses. “I wondered whether there was anything I could do…for you I mean, in return” she said awkwardly, relieved her face was hidden from his gaze. His chair shrieked on the flagstone floor and Susannah froze, breathing hard in front of shelves lined with flutes, wine glasses and tumblers. She heard his footsteps closing in behind her. She closed her eyes and focused on the sound of her heartbeat. A shiver ran down up spine as his hands slid calmly onto her hips. His warm breath on her skin prickled the soft hairs on her neck. “I’m sure I’ll think of something,” he whispered. There were no words she could summon, no movement she could make. Tenderly, he kissed her neck and a soft moan escaped her. She inhaled a deep, dizzying breath and the room about her swam at the caress of his lips on her skin. “You know what I want,” she said at last in words barely audible. “I know,” he whispered, and teased her earlobe with his teeth. “But making you admit it is part of the fun. I like to make you squirm” Susannah trembled and sought to find her balance against the worktop. Slowly, he began to raise her dress, hoisting it up in small movements between thumb and fingers as his palms caressed and massaged the cheeks of her bottom through the thin material. Susannah’s breathing quickened as she felt the cool air on her increasingly exposed flesh. The changing temperature made her suddenly conscious of the growing heat elsewhere. Her face flushed again and she was glad he could not see it. She was already hot, so hot - and so very wet. Only her soft moans broke the silence as she slipped into a trance modulated only by the short, sharp rhythms of her breathing. Her dress was raised up to her waist, held in his one clenched fist. He pushed his foot between her own, easing the apart, and she willingly leaned forward, bracing herself against the worktop, repositioning her weight to maintain her balance. She bit her lower lip as his free hand stroked her soft flesh through the material of her panties. He leant in over her, his broad chest against her shoulders and she moaned at the sensation of his presence. His lips, teeth and tongue moved between neck and ear as his fingers slid down beyond the cheeks of her behind and between her legs. She let out a shame-filled groan as he reached the point where her panties were already soaked. She gasped and her body shuddered as he massaged her swollen clitoris through the sodden cotton. “Oh my,” he whispered. “I know just what you want.” “Fuck,” she murmured softly. His fingers continued to work her through her panties, massaging the throbbing button compressed beneath the material. She felt her knees weaken and a low moan escaped from the back of her throat. “You’ve been dreaming of this,” he said, working her more assertively. Helplessly, she nodded and moaned. “Oh fuck, fuck me,” she said in hushed exclamation, more in surprise at her own yearning than in request. “I intend to,” he said, deliberately misrepresenting her words. He slipped his fingers inside her panties and pressed them deep into her aching cunt. “Oh my God,” she spluttered as he entered her, bracing herself, pushing back onto his probing fingers, needing to feel them inside her. He moved easily in her slick wetness. Waves of pleasure rippled through her as his fingers explored her. Chemical impulses fired and flowed into her brain, intoxicating her emotions as her body rocked to welcome him. She could sense he recognised her longing as she arched back in shameless encouragement. The pace of his rhythm increased and he worked her deeper and more firmly. Her grateful body shook and trembled, inviting more, yearning for more. Susannah could feel her orgasm approaching, building from the depths of her as years of suppressed need were washed away on the approaching tide. She met the thrust of his fingers with her own involuntary movements, taking him deeper, her body urging him on. He released her dress from his grasp and his free hand moved quickly up and around her, sliding into position beneath her chin, pushing her head up as she gasped and moaned, pleading while his fingers fucked her with an ever-increasing certainty. Her body trembled and her knees shook and rocked in a mesmerising convulsion. She knew he sensed the imminence of her climax and gasped in frustration as his fingers relaxed and slowed, robbing her of the moment of release she craved. She was about to speak; to plead; to beg, when he pulled her back tight into his chest. She was breathing hard, panting deep, her pulse racing and she could feel the beads of sweat running down her back. Then suddenly, without warning, he was gone from her. His fingers slipped out of her as easily as they had entered and she felt overwhelmed by a sudden shock of loss, of emptiness. Her eyes filled with tears as confusion,<b> humiliation </font></b>and rejection swept over her, but before she could cry out in frustration he spun her into the centre of the room. Lost in some ecstatic tango of intimacy and emotion, she let herself be guided by his lead. Wordlessly, he took her forward and she moved in step with his will towards the table where the coffee cups remained untouched. He pushed her forward and her body folded as he pressed her shoulders down towards the hard, wooden surface. |
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10/11/2017 12:51 pm |
I'd love to get some feedback from female readers. x
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