Misadventure

The kitten slipped out when she opened the back door. She couldn't believe a little ball of fluff like that could move so fast. What was worse was the fact that her hands were full and she couldn't chase it. She put the washing basket down next to the clothes line. Decision time. Chase the kitten now or after she hung up the washing? Washing first, she decided. She could see the kitten and it was just playing around on the grass.

Olivia hung up the washing, one eye on the little ball of black and white fur. Finished, she turned towards the kitten, just in time to see him duck under the hedge and go next door. Not a problem. There was a small gap in the hedge where one of the bushes had recently died. She could slip through there. Martin would be at work, anyway.

Through the hedge and where was the kitten? Not in sight, that was for sure. Maybe still under the hedge? She crawled along the base of the hedge, finally spotting a flash of black and white fur. Now all she had to do was catch him. Maybe she could scare him back into her yard.

A sudden yell and a shaking of the bush resulted in one very nervous animal. It reacted the way nature intended. Tail up and scent glands flexed and Olivia found the skunk enthusiastically spraying the front of her clothes. She staggered back with a scream. The skunk slipped out from under the hedge and waddled away happily. Another victory to skunks.

Olivia wasn't quite as happy. She felt nauseated and was struggling not to throw up. A shower and an immediate change of clothes was the order of the day. But, and it was a big but, she did not want to traipse the scent of eau de skunk through her house. Her husband would kill her. Worse, he'd roll around on the floor, laughing his fool head off.

The best ideas come in emergency situations. She was in Martin's backyard and Martin was at work. She knew where he kept his emergency key. She could sneak in, strip off in his back room and stuff her smelly things in a plastic bag. Then a good shower, borrow a t-shirt from Martin's wardrobe, and sneak off home. He'd never know she'd been there. True, a lingering smell might give him a clue that someone or something had visited but he wouldn't know who or what. Well, the smell would tell him what, but not that it had been attached to her.

After knocking to ensure non-occupancy, Olivia retrieved the key and slipped in the back. She promptly stripped, doing her best to touch the contaminated clothes as little as possible. Fortunately not much of the foul liquid had soaked through onto her skin. Into the kitchen. A quick check found plastic bags and she grabbed a few. Then it was clothes into a bag and tied. Then that bag into another and a third over them. That at least cut down the worst of the smell.

Feeling a lot happier with so much of the smell gone Olivia headed for the bathroom, stopping in the kitchen to grab the vinegar. She was reasonably sure that vinegar helped kill the scent.

Vinegar, a hot shower with plenty of soap, more vinegar, and another shower, and Olivia was satisfied. As far as she could tell she was scent free. Even the vinegar smell was gone. She quickly dried herself and started off towards the bedroom to find a t-shirt.

Arriving home early, Martin let himself in and walked down the hall. He'd only taken a few steps when his bathroom door opened and Olivia stepped out. Naked. Totally and absolutely and gloriously naked. He had always thought she'd had a fine figure. He'd just never realised just how fine it was. Her breasts were firm, jutting out proudly. Her waist was pleasantly narrow before her hips flared out in a graceful curve. Her mons gleamed white, showing that she wore bikinis when swimming and did a full shave.

She saw him and stopped dead, mouth opening in shock. Martin had stopped also, but quickly recovered, moving down the hall towards her. The only time he stopped was when he had to pause to let his trousers fall before stepping out of them and continuing on.

Olivia was shaking her head slowly while backing away, eyes fastened on him. Well, initially fastened on his face but now fastened on a distinctly different part of his anatomy. It was unfortunate that she couldn't back off very far, the end of the hallway right behind her.

Martin came to a halt immediately in front of her, not saying a word. His hand came up and brushed across both her breasts, trailing down afterwards to run across her mons. Bending slightly, he tucked a big hand behind her knee and lifted, pushing her leg to the side at the same time, leaving her exposed. Before Olivia could file a proper protest his erection was pressing against her.

"Martin, no," Olivia shrieked, feeling his cock pressing against her soft flesh. "You can't do this."

"I can do what I want in my own house," he said softly, now pressing firmly home, burying his cock deep inside her, relishing her heat and the way her passage clung to him. Even though he was fully inside her he still pressed against her, enjoying the contact.

"God, I needed this," he breathed softly.

"Well, I didn't," snapped Olivia. "Take it out."

"In your dreams," Martin murmured.

He pulled back slightly and pressed forward again, moving firmly. Another couple of short but firm strokes and he decided he was ready. He caught at the hands that were pushing futilely at his chest, lifting them and putting them on his shoulders.

"Hold on tight," he instructed, his hands closing around her bottom and lifting.

Holding her tight, transfixed by his cock, he turned and strolled into his bedroom. Reaching his bed he released her, letting her fall back onto the bed. He climbed up onto the bed next to her.

"Roll over onto your tummy," he instructed her, "and lift your hips."

"The hell I will," Olivia flared at him. "You leave me alone."

"Not going to happen," she was told, even as he was twisting her over, moving her onto her stomach.

She felt him taking up a position behind her. His hand was rubbing against her mound, quickly replaced by the head of his cock stroking her. The stroking slowed down and stopped, his cock pressing against her.

"Don't you dare," she wailed, knowing she was on a loser but feeling she had to at least try to protest.

Martin eased gently forward. She was ready for him, like it or not. It was a case of it being up to him to make her like it. Hands on her hips he held her firmly, his cock continuing to slide into position.

"Sorry," he said softly, "but I want this too much for any sort of finesse."

With that he pulled out and drove fiercely back home, hands on her hips helping to pull her towards him as he went. He almost bounced back in his eagerness to do it again, returning again with another hearty thrust.

Olivia yowled and protested at the start, Martin's cock coming in hard and fast and apparently non-stop. She tried not to respond but found she couldn't help herself, finding she was starting to push back to meet him, his demands getting ever more urgent. He wasn't even trying to fondle her breasts, she idly noticed, his full attention being on the thrusting of his cock into her as often and as fast as possible.

Martin noted that she'd stopped protesting and wasn't too surprised when helpless little gasps and grunts started up. Her excitement was building and she was now part of what was going on, an active participant rather than a helpless captive. He built up the pace once more, wanting her more with each thrust.

She was gasping under him now, lost in what was happening to her, her body and emotions in full control, making her go with the flow. He pressed forward urgently, near the end of his run, just holding back that fraction to encourage her to go first.

He almost shouted his relief when Olivia gave a small scream, her passage clamping around him as she climaxed. He relaxed, letting himself go, jerking almost helplessly against her as his climax spilt his seed.

He relaxed, lying on the bed next to her. She tried to glare at him but her heart wasn't in it.

"I suppose you want to know why I was in your house," she finally said.

"Not really," came the calm reply. "I admit I was wondering where your clothes were but I figured it was none of my business.'

"Speaking of clothes, can I borrow a t-shirt after I've had a shower? Another shower, that is."

"Certainly. Ah, you can use the en suite for your shower if you like. I'll dig out a t-shirt while you're in there."

Coming out with a towel wrapped around her Olivia found a black t-shirt waiting, together with a belt. She quickly slipped it on, finding it the equivalent of a dress. She found Martin escorting her to the door, the back door, she'd insisted. He saw him wrinkle his nose as she scooped up the bags containing her scented clothing, a smile not quite on his lips.

Putting on what dignity she could muster she headed towards the gap in the hedge, stopping on the way to drop the clothes into the rubbish bin.

"Ah, Olivia," called Martin, just before she ducked through the hedge.

She looked back at him.

"That your kitten?" he asked, pointing to the hedge.

She eyed the black and white patch of fur very carefully. Kitten, she decided. Too small for anything else. She bent down and picked up the sleeping cat.

"Thank you," she said. "He got out earlier."

"You're welcome, and Olivia."

"Yes?"

"Once is never enough. I'll see you around."

She dived through the hedge, indignation swelling in her breast. Did he really think she'd give him a second chance? You didn't give him the first chance, she reminded herself. He just grabbed it. Maybe he'll grab a second one.