Not Just for Christmas Ch. 05-06

"Yes, I do!" she replied with some fervour. "You wanted to know my intimate places and now I want to know yours. I've waited long enough."

She kissed him up and down his length, kissed his balls then kissed the head. He stroked her head but did not push as she took him further and further into her mouth until she gagged then withdrew a little.

"Please don't come in my mouth," she requested as she removed her mouth for a moment, then returned to her task gazing up into his eyes as she did so.

She sucked him in, let him out, then sucked him in again. Then she worked him faster. She was not the greatest blow-job expert in the world, but she performed it with such a loving and lustful look that he began to feel an orgasm approaching.

"Claire," he said urgently, "I'm coming!" and he tried to withdraw but to his surprise she continued until he erupted into her mouth and she swallowed and continued to swallow until he relaxed and the outflow finished.

"You told me not to-"

"Yes," she interrupted, getting up off the floor licking her lips and sitting next to him, "but when it came to it I wanted you to.

"Gary used to make me blow him and held my head to be sure he came in my mouth. I hated it. I thought I'd hate it with you but you told me I didn't have to, and I wanted to repay your oral gift.

"Then I found I didn't hate it at all. You looked down at me with such love I wanted to. You taste better than him!"

She laughed out loud and began playing with his tool. It had no time to wilt completely and obligingly returned to something approaching full mast, whereupon she pushed him down on the bed.

"Can I go on top?" she asked.

"Be my guest," he replied, smiling.

She straddled him and lowered herself onto his now resilient member.

"O-o-h!" she exclaimed. "Gary never let me do this. He always had to be on top. It's bloody fantastic!"

"You have total control," he grunted with some effort. In this position she felt tighter and was leaning back rather further than was comfortable for him.

She giggled, leant forward a little and began to rise and fall. Her firm breasts bounced slightly. It was a turn on.

"You never did it this way - ever?" he asked with some surprise.

"Never," she asserted. "He only did it on top. Sometimes he'd stand at the side of the bed. Oooh! Sometimes he'd push my legs over my shoulders. Aaah! He was always on top." She was obviously enjoying it, exhaling with each new sensation.

"Claire, try going in circles."

She did and her eyes opened wide. "Oh f-u-uck!" she exclaimed, that's incredible!" She incorporated the move into her routine: up, down and round and round.

She kept eye contact the whole time; she was looking down on him as she rose, fell and rotated, biting her lip while he cupped her breasts giving them gentle squeezes and pinches to the nipples.

Then there was the signal she was near: her eyes closed and her movements became more intense; her strokes were longer and faster and she rotated and ground her pussy hard against his pubic fuzz.

She was out of control, so he pinched her nips hard, her eyes flew open and rolled in her head as she came hard. She was not quiet; she squealed and cried out and made those wordless noises as the spasms hit her again and again.

She fell forward onto him continuing to move her buttocks to and fro, feasting on the feeling of his hard cock within her, panting and catching her breath.

"Oh! So good! So complete! God you're good. God I love you!" were a selection of the epithets with which she praised either her Maker, Mike or her orgasm, it mattered not which to him. He tended to think it was the orgasm since it was all her own work and he did little to help apart from the final pinch. Perhaps also she was also praising the Creator of their private parts which gave such pleasure.

Then she suddenly sat up, her hand over her mouth.

"Oh bugger!" she cried in horror. "D'you think they heard?"

Mike was amused at her coarse language which he had never before heard from her lips. He was still impaled and enjoying the feeling of her relaxing sheath.

"They sleep like logs," he reassured her. "Mind you, I think half the local area heard."

She laughed and then looked perplexed. "You didn't come?"

"I came in your mouth darling. Once is enough."

"No it isn't," she argued. "Your turn. How would you like me?"

"Kneel on all fours," he said. She disengaged and presented her backside to him. He grasped her hips and drove his cock into her. She grunted and gave a little yelp as he bottomed out.

"Sorry, did that hurt?"

"Surprise, that's all, go on!" she urged. "Really do me!"

So he did. The term in general use, he thought, was 'pounded'. He thought it was apt in this case. He kept his strokes long and hard, bottoming out and feeling his balls slapping the front of her mound, where she had begun to finger herself, resting on her other elbow and forearm.

Thanks to her previous athletic manoeuvres, the feel of her fingers on his balls each time he bottomed out, the magnificent view of her sinuous back, her supremely curved backside and the sight of his cock appearing and disappearing as it invaded her pussy, her nether lips seeming to suck it in each time he thrust forward, he came quite quickly, and she brought herself off again almost simultaneously, her finger a blur on her clitoris.

"I thought you hated rough sex," he gasped as they lay in the afterglow.

"Before I had no choice; now I do," she murmured. "Before I was being used; you would never use me like that. Tonight I did what I wanted. You've no idea how free that makes me feel. It's just as well I didn't know what I was missing before now."

"Claire, my darling, you are a fantastic lover and you know I've had some experience. Making love with you really means something much more to me, it's better than anything I've known."

They lay together wrapped round each other, until she reluctantly left for her own bed and left him lying in a wet spot. He smiled, and moved over to the 'other' side of the bed.

-

Another week passed. Mike was extra busy at work and there were a number of late nights. On Saturday Ryan was attending a birthday party, and Siobhán was staying with a girlfriend during the day but needed a taxi service from Claire or Mike later that evening. Mike took Claire and Ginny on a shopping trip to Manchester. He was bored during the experience but enjoyed their enjoyment.

Mike and Claire spent a few happy hours in Mike's bed on Saturday night, but Claire once again returned to her own bed afterwards. Both of them felt this would have to change and soon; they wanted to sleep together all night and wake together in the morning.

On Sunday the family went for a long walk and ate at a pub in the country. They were all tired that night and Claire did not come to his bed.

Monday.

Another ordinary day. It rained and it was windy, if warm. The children went off to school. As was usual on rainy days Claire took Siobhán in the car to the nearest bus stop with a shelter, nearer the town centre, while Mike walked with the younger ones to the primary school and then came back and drove into work. As he entered the building, the sun came out and he looked up to see plenty of blue sky. The day was already appreciably warmer. It would be hot and humid after the rain.

It was at ten eighteen precisely - he had just looked at his watch - that the world changed for him and would never be quite the same again.

Mike was reading a specification sheet and the phone rang. Normally phone calls went to Rosemary, but Mike had a special number. He was half paying attention when he answered it.

"Mike Stewart."

No voice at the other end but the sound of people shouting.

"Gary no-o-o!"

"Shut up, you whoring bitch!"

The sound of a slap and a squeal of pain.

Then, "What's this? You cunt, you phoning him?" and it cut off.

By the time the 'conversation' ended Mike was fired up and really paying attention.

"Rosemary! We're going home, Claire's being attacked!"

*****