1
Charlie worked on; pretended he hadn’t taken in the look of her as the woman and a bloke, he took to be her man, approached him. The pitch he’d chosen did him well; people showed an interest in the carvings he had made and the piece he was now completing and carving the final detail into. It, along with two others, would be collected from him later in the day, if the weather held. They were earners for him. It was his way to get by.
He looked up and met her wondering smile. He had already taken in her light blue trainers with their lips motif printed on them and her slender legs encased in cropped jeans. He fancied the woman with her billowy V-neck blouse that hung free but left him in no doubt what was underneath — ‘more than a handful’ his mates in the military used to say. Her neatly brushed out long auburn hair framed a narrow face. On her lovely mouth a slick of red lipstick was to be seen.
‘How do you carry it all back to you place?’ she asked in an only too cultured voice. ‘You’ve made so many of them…’
‘I’ve a gotta cart in the alleyway over there, missus,’ he drawled in his London accent and pointing behind her. He was in two minds whether to stand up and be polite…or politer than usual. The woman turned to look in the direction he had pointed. ‘I use it to take stuff back to the hostel…’
‘Come along, Ava,’ her man asked, ‘or we’ll be late for the others…’
‘Go on ahead, Tom…I want to see if there’s a walking stick I can use amongst this lot,’ she said on turning away from him. ‘He’s impatient…hates me shopping…and talking.’
‘I don’t mind you shopping for what I’ve got here,’ he assured her, yet to make his mind up about her man. He looked the effeminate, even gay, sort, or he liked it both ways. And Ava weas only too good not to look at.
Charlie soon stood by her shoulder and took the bundle of assorted walking sticks onto which he had carved a symbol. They all gleamed in the sunlight, the polish a final and clever trick. It brought out the grain.
‘Where do you get the materials?’ she asked, eager it seemed to chat.
‘I scavenge…walk out into the woods by the heath…look for straight windfalls of hardwoods if they’re about…they’re never perfect…they never are. The smaller pieces, down in that box are dog whistles…door stops…all get used.’
‘And it’s that which is so interesting…’ she replied looking down at the box that lay at their feet.
‘You got it missus…’
She had more than enough to hook him, but he couldn’t tell her that, of course. He kept from chuckling as Ava picked a stick with a round, polished end, circles carved underneath it and where he’d fixed a metal ring, in case a strap was to be threaded onto it. A stick…shaped like a prick…to remind you of the guy who made it.
They heard her name called out as her man approached them once more.
‘We’re wondering what’s keeping you…’
Ava ignored him and reached for her purse, stowed in a clutch bag slung over her shoulder. ‘How much?’
‘Call it twenty…it’s a payback on the effort.’ He looked from her and at her man. ‘I’m glad it’s in your hands..’
Her eyes widened in surprise at his over-familiarity, and she looked away. ‘I’ll be with you in a moment, Tom! Just go…please!’
Ava turned back to him. ‘It’s…it sounds crazy, but I have a gardener’s lodging at the end of my garden…a brick outhouse with two rooms and washroom. It’s empty…unused…basic furniture you’d need and there’s a stove…all of it better than a hostel. It could be your own space…to live and work in.’
‘What are you sayin’ missus…?’
‘You’re ex-military…right? I hear all the time how they’re not looking after men such as you who leave or are cut loose by defence cuts. There’s somewhere to work…and to call home for a spell until you move on. I imagine you don’t stay in any one place for long…?’
‘Not so far…no,’ but that could change he soon took to thinking.
Jeez! Was the woman looking for some rough…and him staying at her place a way to get it? He watched her as Ava took a card from her bulging purse and, looking to see if she was being watched, shoved it into his hand.
‘Ring me…tell me if you want to look at the place? Tell me your name?’
‘Charlie…Charlie Chapman…and don’t go making the joke. I’ve heard it too many times…to make me laugh anymore.’
‘Charlie’s just fine for me.’
Stunned, he watched her walk away.
2
When they retraced their steps, along the pedestrianized High Street, Ava noted that Charlie was nowhere to be seen. She tried to quell a sense of disappointment, for the man may have been a ‘down and out’ by most people’s reckoning, but that was to ignore his undoubted skills in carving and creating something out of nothing. She knew enough about arts and crafts to understand the skill needed to recognise the potential in windfalls; what lay on the forest floor. It required an artist’s eye.
Her new walking stick tapped the paviors, rhythmically, as Tom walked beside her. She was relieved that Tom had not been present during her brief exchanges with Charlie, for the decision to suggest that he ‘lodged’, in an outbuilding that was going to waste, was for her alone to take and her decision soon to be informed by what she could find out about Charlie Chapman.
She took it that he lived by his wits to survive; had read and heard, often enough, that a return to civvy-street was for some a step too far after the ordered existence that was the military. His sandy brown hair was still cut short; his eyes stared out from a lean, unshaven, face and possessed a world-weary stillness She was almost as tall as Charlie; had noted this as they had stood talking, but he was sharper in his movements, perhaps spurred on by being able to chat to her, even to flirt in his sharply accented voice.
It had all been a wonderful contrast to what she listened to from Tom, and those she had lunched with. There was a world of accents and dialects all around her, yet she rarely got to converse with the possessors of them. The work on display had made her stop and talk to him, a man dressed in tended khaki work trousers and a long- sleeved T with what she took to be some camouflage pattern, the sleeves pushed up over strong forearms. She had seen the muscles flex as he worked on another walking stick before she had interrupted him.
‘Your woodsman has gone, darling…’
‘Yes Tom, so he has…’
‘Don’t sound so disappointed…waifs and strays…down and outs…they’re two a penny these days.’
‘Not that you know much about them, darling,’ she replied icily.
‘True…they’re really not my type. Heathen and unwashed…’
‘Most of them…but not the man we saw.’
‘You have been paying attention,’ he said sarcastically. You’re not weakening, are you?’
An arrangement had been reached some time ago with Tom. He retained ownership of their London flat and to do with what he pleased and with whomsoever took his eye. The details she did not wish to know, only that he be discreet as she would be about their marital arrangements.
Theirs would be an only too modern approach to marriage. Tom knew that, without a pre-nup agreement, he would be a heavy loser if they ever divorced.
He had his distractions and she thought it time that she again had her ‘experiences’ once more; dalliances, as a close friend had smiled in her only too understanding ways.
‘No one gets hurt so why not play? I wish I could have the chance…’ she had been told.
There were two of her friends whose husbands were still in the military. Perhaps she could consult them, and their men pulled a few strings to discover the story about Charlie Chapman.
The offer of a place of his own was but the bait she had cast out. Enquiries would reveal if the risk was greater than the rewards that she sought. The rest would then be up to her. The first step was for him to call her and say when he would come round to see the small building, its sloping roof set against the rearmost boundary wall of her garden.
The house was built in Surrey Sandstone; looked mellow under its slated roof; the garden at the back sloping; stepped by means of three retaining walls; the top most a foundation for the gardener’s lodge. The previous owner’s housekeeper had lived there. Now, she and Tom maintained it even if the place was empty.
She had thought of another use as she met Charlie’s look upon her; heard his flirty banter and thought, ‘why not?’ Life was for living, and she wanted to be taken out of the only too ordered and mundane ways of it and with Tom.
Charlie need only refuse and that would be it.
What better, and in time, to be serviced by a live-in lover? There would be no need for social niceties to be followed, just the acceptance, by each of them, that him being there had a dual function; he to work, she to play with him when the urge arose.
In short: ‘service me’. The place is yours for free. When I say ‘go’, you go.’
3
Charlie sauntered through the dappled shade of the woodland, his eyes scanning the leaf strewn ground. He carried a hessian sack over one shoulder, the unequal lengths of timber that he had found making it harder to carry. Re-distributing the load, as he’d learnt in the infantry, did little to change things.
‘May as well call it done,’ he muttered, shrugging off the sack and reaching for a drink’s flask.
He studied the card that Ava had given to him, two days ago. A classy woman, not a biddy…a tasty bit of crack, had come onto him. He wasn’t so spoiled for choice that he could let an opportunity pass him by, but the terms might be too high to pay. He valued his independence, and going to live in her garden, in an outhouse, sounded good, but what were the strings?
She might want to pull on his length but why ask him to live so darn close? Was he to be on call, seein’ as her man looked a poofter and dressed as one. There was a bit too much attention to detail. He’d had a skin full of that in the infantry and tours in shitholes you were lucky to get out of alive, Afghanistan being one example.
Still, he’d won a few hearts and minds making carved objects, and it helped him clear the storms in his head when out there and even when back home, east of London way…in Colchester Barracks. He’d done his spell, going on twenty years and had money put by.
But he left that untouched. He chose to chance it and to live by his wits and travel about some. It meant you didn’t hook up with those you might want to bang, or for long, and it certainly hadn’t brought him into speaking to the likes of a woman like that classy Ava.
He yanked her card out of his sport wallet, a lightweight piece of kit that suited him just fine. ‘Ava Johnson-Clarke’ he read, along with a mobile and house number. He even knew where her place was, up on the hill and overlooking the town in the valley, the railway line running past in a deep cutting, so you’d never know it was there.
He checked the signal on his battered mobile and soon punched in the number. He even went so far as to save it.
Women’s laughter could be heard as she answered.
‘Hello, it’s the man who carves sticks…’
‘Charlie, the artist in wood…’ he hears her laugh, ‘hang on a moment could you?’
‘Sure…’ he sits down on the leaf-strewn ground and decides to do some sit ups. He rushes through twenty before she’s again to be heard. ‘Yeah, I’m still here. Is the guest lodge still available?’
‘To the right person, yes…’
‘You’d better check me out again when I come over to see the place you told me about…’
‘I’ve already done that, Charlie…’ she confessed, almost sounding apologetic. ‘You understand why, don’t you?’
‘Sure, you can’t be too careful who you get mixed up with…’
‘Yes, but I’ll take my chances if you will. The place needs someone living there…’
‘And how about you…with me living there?’
‘Direct aren’t you?’ she laughed nervily. He imagines how she looks when she does that. There wasn’t a chance to go for her, in these ways, with her man about. ‘Is this afternoon too soon?’
‘Well,’ he says, intent on playing her. He really does wonder what a class woman is doing setting things up in her chosen ways.
‘Tomorrow afternoon’s okay too,’ she prompts.
‘I’m on the common…could call by on my way back…say an hour or two…’
‘Make it three o’clock…two hours away?’
‘Fine…I won’t dress up.’
‘Just be here as you say you will. Tom’s up in town and I’d like to settle things between us before he gets back.’
‘He knows, does he, about your plan?’
‘No, but he’ll be told. We understand each other.’
‘I wish I understood what that will mean…exactly.’
4
He often saw her at a first-floor window gazing out over the garden, glad that it was not his job to mow the strips of grass that ran along each terrace, the bases of the retaining walls a mass of vibrant colours. The path leading up to his place, as he now thought of it, a straight line that ended at a short flight stairs, the slabs cracked. On the terrace, far below his vantage point, he had seen rattan chairs and a two seat settees set about a glass toped rattan table.
His vantage point was all a suntrap, little or no shade offered to him as he worked.
She seemed to always be in a rush and had often spoken to him in snatched conversations. Ava had yet to see what he had made of his pitch. He’d always travelled light and kept what clothes he had clean. He’d even chosen to shave each morning so that she didn’t think him any more of a tramp than he reckoned was her opinion of him.
The fact remained, the gnaw of hunger for the woman had yet to be eased ad he’d read the signs in her too. Just as it had been when she had stopped to talk in the street almost a week ago, Ava was in control of the time and the place.
But he’d help her with that, he decided once more, as he worked on a new piece. He was seated on a wooden stool that he’d found in a corner of his main room. He cleared up after him; would have to ask how to dispose of the offcuts and shavings. A whetstone lay at his feet as he worked, the blades of his implements regularly sharpened. What he learned on keeping a bayonet sharp would never leave him.
What was in his mind, from those times, something else but that Ava woman might help him through with that, just as he might have an answer to what played out in her life. He’d not seen her man about in the days since he had arrived and settled in only too quickly.
♥
Ava looked at her watch, so large on her slender wrist. There was time to go and speak to Charlie and spend a little longer with him and see where that took them.
It was going to be a warm day, the sun already picking out the terraces at the top of her walled garden and Charlie was to be seen at work, stripped to the waist and in some cargo shorts. She imagined that he was barefoot. Everything that she again imagined sharing with him had her press her fingers to her belly. She knew that her pussy juices would so easily flow, as they did when she worked her own body with her fingers when she lay in her empty bed. She would tweak her breasts and wonder what it would again feel like to have a man take her.
Tom still had his moments with her, needed their perfunctory ruts just to get by. But real tempestuous and exhausting sex, a bond with a lover, had not been known of for two years or more.
She thought of all this as he closed the door to the small conservatory that looked out on the terrace and took slow steps up to Charlie’s vantage point.
‘Am I disturbing you in your work?’ she called out to him.
‘Not so much that I’m goin’ to mind…Ava, no,’ he answered and stood up. ‘You look as if you’re going out again…’
‘You notice that?’ She wore a cami dress, in blue and white stripes; the straps tied in a bow at each shoulder; the bodice tight against her breasts; the skirt layered, frilled and swirly. She carried her sandals in one hind as the other brushed away strands of her hair.
Charlie followed her every move. He felt his prick twitch. Jeez, he wanted the woman…here and now.
‘It easy to do…also makes me wonder when we’ll have a chance to talk…of us to be together some more. I reckon it’s the reason for me being here, Ava…’
He had closed the space between them. Charlie now reached out to touch the skin of her throat and met her answering look before she oved away.
‘You’ve settled in, I see…’ She stood at the entrance door of his place.
He had followed her, his bulk pressed against her and provoking Ava to step inside. Not a thing was out of place.
‘I’ve not settled what I feel…what I felt when I first met you. It’s gotten to be a problem for me…’
‘I wondered when it might be like this between us,’ she whispered.
He stood behind her and Ava clamped his hands as Charlie embraced her and slowly moved his hands to her belly and pressed into the fabric between her slender thighs. She raised her face and felt his lips on her throat; clamped his hands to her body before she raised one to her breast.
‘I can be here for you,’ he breathed as Ava turned her face to see the fire in his eyes. She met a slow, deepening, unhesitating kiss.
‘Charlie!’ His hands had drawn up the skirt of her dress and his fingers pressed on the fabric of her panties. She met again that look. She could scarcely believe what she was saying.’ Yes…I’m wet…and I want you to do somethin about that!’
Their mouths crashed against the other’s; his fingers slipped under the waist band of her knicks, and Charlie fingered her. He felt Ava squirm to meet these insistent and deepening touches in her. She did not stop him as he pushed her panties down her thighs, and she stepped out of them.
She stood motionless and held the skirt of her dress up to her waist as he knelt before her and his tongue search and probe; to lap at her wet folds as his hands kneaded her hips.
‘I want to fuck the lady of the house….’
‘She wants that too!’ she heard herself say, all restraint forsaken.
Charlie slowly pushed her back on the narrow, unforgiving bed that he slept in. He dropped to his knees between her legs. He kisses the soft flesh to the inside of her thighs, a push on them persuading Ava to allow him space to kneel between them. He bends over her and to kiss the tumble of her breasts after she’s loosened the straps on her shoulders and draws it down. He soon teases and tugs on her nipples as his fingers found her and moved them so that he licked and slicked licked up and down her pink folds; darted his tongue into her and to coax Ava to allow his fingers to touch and press another place,; a forbidden place.
‘No…not that!’ she exclaims and pushing him away, tugging on his hair until he buried his face to her sweet heat once more.
‘Don’t push your luck!’ she cried out; again pulling on his hair and meeting his hungering kisses. ‘There will be times when I may let you do everything that you want with me…’
He took his time and licked her out and felt that he might bring her on just by doing that by licking and fingering her. The classy woman is unable to resist his greedy possession of her.
‘You taste so good Ava!’ He rose to kiss her and felt Ava nod against his lips and reach between their bodies to clamp on his prick. ‘You’re hungry for that…aren’t you, missus?’
‘Yes…I want to fuck!’ she moaned, glorying in what he did and dismayed that she gave voice to her imaginings of being claimed by such a man; a workman with a trade skill; a feral man and of no standing. She watched him pull down his shorts and reached out to claim that hard swell in his briefs before he pulled it free. It sprang into their hands. She looked at him with wondering eyes and paid no attention to the battle scars on his body. This ruffian was blessed with what she clamped and jerked on so fiercely. ‘Charlie…just bring it to me!’
‘Soon…missus…it’ll be soon.’ His fingers started to move faster and deeper. ‘I want you to be good and ready…’
She squirmed under him; felt the oncoming rush of an orgasm ass he kept up the frenzied rhythm of his fingers and tongue. Wave upon wave of spending crashed over her until she pushed him away. Ava felt him bear his weight on his elbows and look down upon her and to glory in her body still clothed in that dress. He eased loose the straps away still further and bent his lips to her breasts, one hand sweeping over her sore nipples, then her belly; then, as he lifted further from her, to reach down and touch her place with the tip of his gloriously hard wand.
‘Charlie?’
She met his hungering stare; squirmed on feeling the head of his penis part her lips to offer the slowest of tantalising and teasing touches but no more.
‘I want to fuck you now missus…fuck you, Ava…if you’ll let me…let a guy like me take you?’ He’d reached for a condom, the packet on the top of a battered bedside table, and expertly covered hi prick. ‘You’ll be safe now…from how you make me feel…Ava…missus.’
She pulled him down to her and kissed him hungrily. She did so even as she pushed up from the bed and felt him enter in one long sinuous thrust. Her fingers dug into his hips; scratched and pressed into his skin. ‘Oh…oh God…you’re going to break me! Yes…go on…fill me!’
He was taken deep inside her slender, full breasted body, the refined and well-spoken woman played the hungry beast and groaned and moaned; thrust her hips up to meet his plunging prick but she avoided his kisses. Ava yelped at the ferocity of his clamps on her breasts and the harsh nip of his kisses to them and their aching, swollen tips.
‘Okay missus?’ he asked on groans of effort.
She arched her back and laughed out. ‘What do you think?’
Her legs were pulled on and were soon wrapped around his heaving hips. He wanted his penis to remain deep inside this woman and he slowed in his taking of her. He sought to keep a hold on his load and on; what he felt so deep in his belly and that would explode from him if he took her, and as Ava demanded of him. She was begging for it to be finished.
Ava clung to him; wrapped her arms about his neck and breathed in his animal heat. He was fucking her in short steady strokes, then quickened, only to slow down again. His eyes never drifted from her face. He delighted in the heat of her body as he pressed his lips to her skin and wherever he could reach.
‘Quicker…the lady wants you to go quicker!’ she cried out. ‘I can’t bear your teasing ways…’
‘Loving ways…the giving and the taking, Ava…you wonder…you beautiful wonder.’ He was in thrall to her; delighted in Ava’s slender, full breasted, figure, her shaven cleft such a turn on and a wonder to kiss.
Ava stared at him; wondered at the first words of tenderness that she had heard from him.
‘Please…go on?’ she asked in evident frustration.
He picked up speed, and his searching and plunging strokes grew longer and longer…faster and faster. She was oblivious to the thumping of the bed against the wall and thrashed her legs on the rough coverlet. She offered caresses to his body with her thighs and feet on his calves. She yelled and yelled in her pleasure as another orgasm swept over her and he kept on pounding her body. Charlie crashed against her hips; he snorted through their kisses; as the clamp of his hands on her breasts aroused shudders of pain and unbounded joy.
Charlie had not slowed, but now he bent to kiss her breasts and then held his lips close to, not touching, her mouth.
‘I…I want to lose it all inside you now…now…now,’ he gasped as the pounding of her body, the wrench and push of her on him, and he in her, resumed. ‘Oh…oh Jeez!’
She arched her back and dug her fingers into his skin. Ava gasped on feeling the spurting rushes burst from him and were transferred by the slicked smoothness of the condom. She clung to the man as her legs wrapped him, even as Charlie lifted her from the bed and had her rest on his thighs; to have him again glory in what she brought.
Ava rested her head on his shoulder and felt her body slowly relax, the tumult that had been aroused between them ebb away and be replaced by a dreamy lethargy; also by a sense of deep satisfaction.
‘You do it well…’ he murmured appreciatively.
Charlie eased her from him and gazed down at the woman he had ached to know of. He dressed; took his eyes from her and heard Ava get up from his bed. She gripped the hand that he held out to her.
‘What are you thinking?’ she asked in a small voice, shivered as his rough fingers were on her skin as he refastened her dress straps and his hands brushing against her breasts; her aching nipples still so hard. Ava stroked his face.
‘That I want you to mend me…be with me like this whenever you can. I see you at the window…wonder if it’s going to be the same for you. The woman who stopped to talk…she’s become my passionate Good Samaritan.’
Ava was startled by the depth of his feelings being expressed so clearly. He was no fool; what he had just said contradicted all of that.
‘I’ve…I’ve got to go!’ she replied over trembling lips. The ruffian and ardent lover of her had his softer, even vulnerable, considerate side to his nature. He’d given voice to it all. ‘You may become the same for me…’
‘Wait!’ he called out as she stood in the doorway, the sun picking out the reds in her auburn hair. ‘Don’t forget these…’
She tore her panties out of his grip and rushed away from him, down the steps, her sandals in hand.
5
She felt distracted; felt that her mind was all over the place and that it had been so ever since she had given herself to Charlie and had gloried in what he had brought to her. He had stretched and plumbed her body, and she had discovered that his lust for her was only too disquieting in the lack of restraint that he had shown, and that she had conceded to.
The chatter of her friends was only background noise. She felt conflicted by her emotions, those of wanting the unquestioning attention to her body by a wild man, or by what her friends would think of a woman with a host of connections, money, an enviable lifestyle yet conceding to the beast of her instincts. They were like those of a bitch in heat wanting to know of all that a true man would bring to her.
Life with Tom had become impossibly constrained by whom he had become or had kept from her for so many years of their marriage; a life not bounded by his predilections. It had become behaviour that worried her, such as who his partners were and that he gave himself to.
To speak of it, let alone to think of her husband with another man, gnawed at her resolve to continue living the lie with Tom and limited by the ‘accommodation’ that they had reached.
How distracting Charlie had already become, so soon after his arrival, the man who now lived at her gate; the man who had claimed her body and, now, her mind after a wild and passionate tryst. It had been a rut, he not allowing her to undress or to take off the garment her friends complimented her on. The same dress that she wore as she was seated with her women friends and enjoyed their lunch, yet her mind possessed by images of Charlie; by the scars on his toned body. It was a condition bestowed by the life he had led and continued to follow, but in changed surroundings. The gaze of his eyes upon her had felt as if she was being undressed before him and all of them a prelude to a tempestuous fuck. She suppressed a shiver on remembering the driving force of his hips as he took her, and the stretching claims of his prick that had given her no respite from his ferocious taking of her and that she had pursued until her body had convulsed in her orgasm.
The time to bring order to her life, where it concerned them, remained some way off.
The desert, that had become her life with Tom, had sprung into glorious bloom. She wanted to cavort and to be taken out of herself and to do that with the man she had stopped to talk to but days ago.
She had not stopped to think of what had driven her to the decision, except her lust for him now knew no bounds.
6
‘You’re still awake,’ he ventures as she answered his call.
Ava stood on the darkened landing, the soft glow of a bedside light, through her bedroom door, the only way that he could know that she was. She had answered the call quickly and had not fumbled for her iPhone.
‘Yes, I am Charlie…and I see that a light’s still on in your living area and it’s late,’ she chose to say and, yet, trying to keep the pleasure from her voice on hearing him.
‘Want to be here…the bed’s not as comfortable as the one you sleep in, no doubt?’
‘I could always lie on you…if you let me?’
Ava heard him chuckle. ‘Depends on how tired you make me and even then I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to you…would be able to hold that bod of yours and keep the heat in.’ Charlie paused. ‘Be here with me, or I can be with you there…’
‘Not a good idea…’
‘Then I’ll see you here. The door’s not locked when I know that you’re at home.
♥
She met his kisses; felt Charlie loosen the knot that fastened a silk belt to her crimson, lace-trimmed, bathrobe. It had been purposefully chosen. It shaped her and finished mid-thigh. It revealed her deep cleavage and showed off the swell of her breasts. There were few opportunities to wear it, but she knew the man before her would take it as a wanton display of what she brought and a prelude to all that she wanted from him again.
They clung to each other in the cool night air and kissed; stroked each other’s naked bodies and he felt that her bathrobe was like a second skin. She knew again of his strength as Charlie’s arms embraced her and his hands stroking her back and then clenching her buttocks to draw Ava to him.
‘So strong…already!’ she gasped, raising her head and lingering in his embrace. She felt his lips tugging on her hard nipples as she again wrapped a hand around his penis and pushing it down, between her legs. A slow dance soon followed, the slip of his flesh to her already enervated lips and pressed to her opening making her shudder and gasp in slow halting breaths.
‘You beauty…your gown’s like a second skin but it’s useless now.’ He eased his embrace upon her, and Ava rushed into the gardener’s lodge.
Ava trembled as he eased the robe from her body and threw it onto the only easy chair to be found in his cramped quarters, one arm holding her to him as he did that. His lips were on her back, his hands on her belly and he slowly moved to kiss her skin. Charlie knelt down and slicked his tongue down over the back of her legs and calves; pushed between them and knelt before her as he kissed her thighs before he lapped probing kisses to her cleft; his tongue flickering like an insect’s wings as he probed and eased away.
‘Don’t…don’t stop!’ she gasped, bending to kiss him and offering the tumble of her breasts to these new claims. Ava soon felt the edge of the bed press against her legs, and she slumped down on it, Charlie’s penis hard and jerking as he moved to stand over her.
‘You know what to do,’ he murmured, his fingers brushing down over her skin before they lingered at her breasts. They were then in her hair and drew Ava face to him. He wanted her mouth on him; wanted her hands to claim and work on him and Ava’s mouth to kisses and languid sucks on his veined length; to kiss the swollen tip and to lick around its edge.
Ava kneaded the hollows of his hips as her mouth worked on him. She took as much as she could into her mouth and sucked; squeezed on his sac in a rhythm to match the claims of her mouth on him, his hands in her hair to set the tempo he wanted.
She stopped and met his gaze upon her.
‘Greedy aren’t I…but it’s good what you do for me,’ he told her in a low voice, squirming as she simply sucked and kissed on the tip as her fingers scratched his length. She worked him expertly or as her wilder instincts now informed her should be done, a man like him expecting these shared preludes.
‘I’ll show you what greedy looks like..’ she grinned in the poor light cast by the lamp, pushing him back on the narrow bed and straddling him; leaning forward, as she reached between them, and put the tip of his penis at her opening.
He gloried in the tumble of her breasts as she rode him; leant forward to seek his kisses and met the sharp intakes of their breaths as they shared in the heat of pursuing their frenetic claims upon each other. They moaned out encouragement, Ava’s mesmerising rhythm as she pushed down and eased away, bucking and twisting her hips to draw him deeper into her slicked haven, wasting him.
‘Jeez, woman! You’ll break me!’ Ava’s demands of him were unquenchable; his strength and control keeping the torment of their shared orgasm at bay.
She sat back and felt him stretch her and caress parts that had gone untended for so long. She pinched his chest as she rocked back and forth or rode his cock and basked in his look upon her. The jiggle of her breasts were stilled by his hands and mouth as he rose from the bed to embrace her and to slow the action between them.
‘Can you hold back?’
‘Wait and see!’ he called out as she pushed him back down on the bed and claimed him.
She sensed that her behaviour would tip him over the edge; that it wouldn’t be long before she brought him to the boundary and tipped him over the edge of control. How long could they keep this going before he succumbed to a shattering orgasm? His breaths were quickening; were faster than hers. She was in control and laughed softly.
‘I’ve got the power over you!’ she called out, even as she too succumbed. She fell upon him and met Charlie’s kisses and the clamp of his hands on her buttocks as he chased the last moments of their shared orgasm. They shared in hot, snorted kisses of acceptance of all that had been discovered.
Charlie felt her linger before Ava finally collapsed on him; basked in their shared heat and enjoyed the feeling of being together. ‘I forgot the condom…’
‘I took the steps I needed to enjoy being with you to the max…’ she breathed against his skin before Ava rose to lean on one elbow and to gaze down into his eyes. ‘You give so much….’
‘Want to take so much more…but I’ve only just met you.’
‘So we live for the day…’
‘Yeah,’ he sighed. ‘I’ve done a lot of that in my time…but not lately.’
‘I know, but that may yet change…’ She leant down and kissed him.
‘For now, it’s an arrangement that suits us both. I stay at the edge of your life, Ava, in everything except this…the love and the sex. My woman gives me shelter and mends me…while I work at the only thing I know now and earn from it. No one owns me, anymore, and you may wake up one day and find me gone. I’m the man at the gate of your life…a new one perhaps…not the owner of the castle. You, the lady lets me in and that suits us both…’
‘We’ll see, you wonder. Where did all of that come from?’
‘I’m not the ruffian you think I am…’
‘Oh?’ she rose on her elbows and really looked at him now as if through new eyes. His voice had changed, and the rough accent was no longer to be heard.
‘I wanted to live life off the radar…what was a hobby, or distraction from combat stress, when I was deployed, became my safety net when I left the Army and chose to rough it and see where that took me. I earned enough to get by. The rest is stashed away…’
‘You came into my life and into my bed!’ she kissed and pinched his sides. ‘I knew you were too good to be true…but I wanted to live it out, just as you did.’ Ava reached for him. ‘Is there anything left in the tank?’
He reverted to his assumed accent and sharp voice.
‘That’s for you to find out…missus…ain’t it? I’m the man at the garden gate…to a different life and maybe with you.’
Ava decided to rise to the challenge that he had set for her.
♥