The Eyes Have It

Mike had the damned ticket anyway, so it seemed crazy not to use it.

Two tickets for the London Eye. On Valentine's Day.

He'd booked it months ago, in the first flushes of his relationship with Vicki. He should have known it wouldn't have lasted this long.

No, wait, that was wrong.

It was a negative way of thinking that had oozed through every aspect of his life these past three weeks. He'd resolved not to let himself get into that kind of spiralling thought pattern. It always ended with the same brutal conclusions.

He wasn't sexy enough to keep Vicki.

He wasn't good enough in bed.

She was way out of his league.

He'd tried to rationalise it, but he couldn't get away from the feeling that a girl as attractive as that, wouldn't come into his life twice. When she'd first agreed to go out with him, he'd been so ecstatic, he hadn't thought it could ever go wrong. He saw the ways they were perfectly matched, the strange little quirks were soooo attractive to him. He was blinded by her beauty, by the firmness of her body, the vibrancy of her laugh, and the dancing, knowing, sexy glint of every look she gave.

Which was why he was standing, in the rain and the dark, on a drizzly evening by the Thames. With a spare ticket for the London Eye. He'd been fooled right up to the last moment. The moment when he'd walked into their bedroom to find her grinding down on another guy's cock. The guy's surprised expression. And her languid turn, a calm and haughty look that said

"well, you didn't think I'd make do with just your cock, did you?"

And that final, cruel twist in the guts as he went to close the door on her apartment, and heard her laugh.

The huge wheel was turning so slowly that, from a distance, the glass pods didn't seem to be moving. He noticed that half of them were empty. London's drab, damp, clingy winter spelt death for most tourist attractions that depended on the weather. He could have had an open-topped tourist bus to himself on the way over. Even the snap-happy Japanese tourists had opted out. No gaggles of excitable, chattering Italian schoolchildren, either. Just him, and a spare ticket, and his so-called life.

Okay, the next person to walk round the corner would get the ticket. It didn't matter who it was. He or she couldn't be worse company for him, than he would be for them. He'd avoided the mutual friends and regular haunts, because he felt sure Vicki had someone with her, and a few lined up as well. She was, he realised, that kind of woman. So sure of her own worth and desirability she was careless of everyone's feelings. Another best friend, another lover, another sucker, always around the corner. And she was right. She created her own prophecy.

He'd done the sitting around, the biscuit-eating marathons, the so-what-if-I-get fat moments. This wasn't exactly the road back, but it was enough for now. To be out of the house, somewhere close to where other people were. No point in getting too ambitious, too quickly.

Laura walked around the corner wrestling with an umbrella. It had turned inside out with a sudden gust of wind and, as the cool drizzle hit her face, she lost her temper with it and threw it against a concrete pillar.

"Fucking bastard!"

She screamed it to no-one in particular. But a slim, slightly built guy who'd been approaching her, backed off with a startled look on his face.

"Oh shit, sorry. I didn't mean you, I meant the fucking umbrella."

She smiled by way of apology. A crooked smile, accompanied by an almost sheepish look.

He seemed to relax a little, but his body language as he approached was more of the I-can-run-if-I-need-to variety.

"Erm, I was going to offer you my spare ticket on the Eye........Got stood up, see."

She thought carefully as she bit her lip. London was full of nutters. Hell, she'd thrown one out of her house just today. The little shit. Stealing money from her as she slept. But then, the pod was as public as you could get. And she hadn't been up there yet. And it was raining. And......

Why the fuck not? It was free.

She reached out and grabbed the proffered ticket. She looked at it carefully, then realised she wouldn't know a real one from a fake one anyway. If the guy at the booth said it was fake, she'd blame this guy, and run.

They walked to the booth separately, conscious of each other's space. The ticket guy grunted.

"You can have a pod to yourselves. Not many people on tonight. I thought with it being Valentine's Day there'd be loads, but as you can see piss-all in this rain, they've all been scared off."

They moved towards a pod that stood swaying, almost expectant, its electric doors glistening in the rain.

"He needs a refund from the charm school, doesn't he?"

Laura smirked at his comment as they got in. They chose opposite ends of the pod. That traditional, English distance-keeping taken to its logical conclusion. Any further apart, and they'd be clinging to the outside of the glass like a stunt double.

Laura was looking at the underlit gothic charms of Parliament as the doors closed. Mike got a chance to check her out. Beneath the baggy coat were tight jeans, and a top that was just shy of her belt, allowing a glimpse of a flat, firm stomach. Her hair was long and slightly unkempt, and shone in the dim lights of the pod, which now began its arc towards the sky. The noise of the city was cut totally, and he felt strangely cocooned.

Laura turned to him and smiled slightly.

"Thanks for the ticket. I walk past here every day, but I've never been on it."

" I know what you mean. Too touristy to do if you're a local, huh?"

She nodded, and turned back to the view. Hmm. Now that she'd got a look at him, he wasn't half bad. A little slimmer than she liked, but he'd avoided that goatee beard thing that would have positioned him in Geek Central. Nice ass, too, she noted. There was so little light in the pod you couldn't see your own reflection in the glass. She presumed it spoiled the view of London, but it also meant he couldn't see her sidelong glances.

It was the question that had to be asked. He knew it. She knew it. So she did.

"How come you got stood up?"

He smiled, as if she hadn't meant to really ask that, but when he saw her looking at him with a clear, steady gaze, he realised she wanted an answer. It wasn't an unreasonable question, really, he supposed. And what the hell? He'd never see this girl again anyway.

"Caught her fucking someone else."

"Jesus, what a bitch. Why do people do that?"

He was surprised by the vehemence of her answer.

"Found someone better looking, I guess."

"And was he? Better looking, I mean?"

He glanced at her again. She had an open directness, an almost simplistic decency that appealed to him.

"Bound to be. Didn't have much competition, did he? And yeah, he was. In that boy-band kind of way."

She pulled a face.

"Fucking hate boy bands. Hate anyone who doesn't play an instrument and write their own songs."

He smiled.

"Yeah I hate boy bands. I do now, anyway."

They both laughed.

"I'm Mike, by the way."

"I'm Laura."

She walked across the pod with her hand extended, and they shook hands.

She laughed.

"How fucking British was that? Boy, girl, alone in a dark pod above London, and all we can do is shake hands."

He grinned, and shook his head.

"What else? Do high fives? That's too American. Do that kissy-air thing the French do? Some sort of Beckhamesque celebration run? Never been in a pod with a pretty girl before."

He turned away as soon as he'd said it. He could feel the skin on his face flush, and he felt an urgent need to jump out and smash himself on the concrete, which was now forty feet below them. He spoke to the glass and the silent city outside.

"That could be the lamest statement in the history of lame. Sorry 'bout that."

She smiled and gave him an aw-shucks punch on the arm.

"Don't worry about it. Along with boy bands, I hate smooth chat-up lines. And you were soooo far from that."

He turned smiling to see her beguiling grin. They were close now, nearer than at any time.

"I hate Valentine's. Bloody sham."

"Mike, you're such a romantic!"

"No, I mean it. It's romantic to show someone how much you love them, but buying a card is just a consumer purchase, isn't it?"

"I'm betting Mikey didn't get a card today?"

"I bet the postman got a hernia delivering your cards."

"Ha. He might have slipped a disc, laughing at the absence of them."

"Not any?"

She smiled.

"Not a one. Even my fucking cat got a card. I got a card saying they called to read my electric, but I don't think that counts as a Valentine."

"Perhaps it should. Perhaps any rectangular object made of card, delivered on the appropriate day, counts."

"But what about people who just get flowers?"

"Oh yeah, that counts. Any kind of present is a double word score. Any present hand-delivered counts triple."

"What about a Valentine's Day fuck with a total stranger?"

Laura had backed away slightly, and was taking off her coat.

Mike stood, flustered, unable to believe she'd even said it.

"Oh yeah, nice gag, Laura. A bit cruel under the circumstances, a bit mocking the afflicted, but funny."

Her coat fell to the floor in front of her. Once again, she was looking him in the eye.

"No joke, Mikey. I've had a shitty day in my crappy life, just like you. We've got thirty minutes, and I know what fucking St Pauls looks like. I could really use a no-frills, never-meet-again fuck."

Mike glanced around, as if looking for the hidden camera. All he could hear was the gentle hum of the heater, and his own breathing. She stood looking at him. She wasn't quite confident, but she wasn't shy, either. She held the balance between those two states, almost effortlessly.

"C'mon Mike. Making a girl beg is soooo 80s. It's a new millennium. We're entitled to ask for a fuck these days."

She moved towards him, deciding the answer lay in a fait accompli. Which was rapidly achieved by locking her hands behind his neck, and kissing him. For a second he was too surprised to return her kiss, but once his mouth opened and her tongue slid inside, he was done for. With a slight groan he slid his hands around her waist and under her top, relishing the smooth warmth of her skin against his fingers.

Her tongue clashed with his, and she let her body crush against his a little. Her hip ground against his groin, and felt the beginnings of a hardening cock.. He was a good kisser, passionate without being needy and overly-urgent. This could be niiiice....

They tried to pull each others' clothes off without breaking the kiss, but when it became a tangle of hands and zippers and cloth, they broke off with a laugh.

"Shit, I knew I should have worn that all-in-one jumpsuit."

"Yeah, I normally have that stripper clothing that comes off in a rush of Velcro, but fuck me if it isn't in the laundry tonight."

She grinned and pushed him gently to the floor, licking her lips. She liked being on top. She tugged his jeans down and his underwear came with it, exposing a cock that was about thirty seconds from a full erection.

"Mikey, baby" she exclaimed, taking his thick cock in one hand and gently rubbing her thumb across the glans. "Her loss is my gain...."

Laura swooped on his cock with her lips, slurping and covering it in spit from her excited mouth. She relished the feel, the taste, the weight of a cock in her mouth, and it had been way too long since she'd allowed herself the pleasure. Once it reached full stiffness, she settled onto her stomach and gave it a series of long, smooth licks, from base to tip and back again. Her eyes locked onto his, and a mischievous glimmer danced from her eye.

He looked down at her, this strange but pretty girl, sucking his cock sixty feet above London. It was preternaturally silent in there, and all he could hear above his own breathless excitement was the sound of her sucking her own saliva off his balls.

She kicked off her skirt and he noticed she wore no underwear. She prepared to straddle his cock, stroking it gently to keep the hardness she wanted inside her.

"I could return the favour, Laura."

She paused, her pussy about two inches from touching his cock. She crouched like that for a second, weighing up the offer. She really, really wanted a cock inside her. On the other hand, just because it was a quickie didn't mean they couldn't be civilised about it.

She moved back from mounting him, and rolled over onto her stomach again.

"Okay Mikey. Reciprocate for me. But lick my ass."

It was a test. If he did it, she knew she was going to have a great fuck. If he didn't, she'd fuck him just to get the feel of a cock and some cum, but nothing more than that. He almost dived at her butt, and passed with flying colours.

Oh Christ, he'd waited for years to hear a girl ask that. Why were the girls he went out with so reticent about him playing with their ass? He'd started to wonder if there were any anal girls out there, and now he had one, naked in a glass pod.

He crawled between her legs and kissed each perfect cheek. He'd been right when he'd checked her out initially. She had a gorgeous butt, firm and smooth, and almost perfect half-circles. He licked across her butthole, with the flat surface of his tongue, and felt her flinch. A very good sign.

With two fingers either side, he gently prised her cheeks apart. In the strange half-light of the pod, he could barely see her asshole. Just a subtle change of the light told him where his target was. But that was okay, because he was more than happy to feel his way there with his tongue.

She made the only noise in the pod. A low moan as he found his target, and started little stabbing motions with the tip of his tongue. Just fluttering across her sensitive hole with his tongue, like a butterfly's wings against her skin. Mmmmmm.....she'd struck gold with this one. Just goes to prove – someone up there loves you when you take a chance. She could feel herself loosen and relax a little under his, frankly, expert ministrations. She briefly wondered if he'd done this before, or if it was beginner's luck. And she wondered too how that silly bitch could cheat on a guy who'd lick your asshole pretty much on demand. Stupid cow.

He heard her startled cry as his tongue probed inside. She was relaxed enough that he could lick around the inside of her rim, letting spit run down his tongue and into her butt hole as he did. He felt her body quiver and shudder, and felt his cock rock-hard between his naked body and the floor of the pod. He was totally aware of the heat of his own body. Almost as if he could feel his blood moving around. Everything was hyper-sensitive and electric.

He could have licked out her ass all night, but she needed to feel his cock. She moved and he let her up. She turned over onto her back and grabbed her legs behind the knee, pulling herself open and back at the same time. She looked straight into his eyes.

"Fuck me Mikey. Your choice. But hurry."

Oh Christ, this was too much. He stared at her pussy, shaven and glistening with her juice in the lights of the nearby buildings. But, beautiful as it was, it was not the true object of his desire. He glanced up at her as he knelt up and moved towards her. Something unspoken passed between them, and she nodded, pulling her legs back a little further. So that her ass lined up with his cock.

He'd never done this before. Imagined it. Dreamt it. But never thought he'd get to experience it. He held the head of his cock against her rubbery entrance, and let her impale herself on it at her own pace. She let herself fall forwards a little, and the tip pressed inside, with a gasp from them both. Fuck, it felt good. It was so much tighter than he'd ever dare to hold his cock himself. And it felt so much sweeter than any vibe she'd used on her ass. It just felt so perfect.

They were taking shallow little breaths. Part nerves. Part excitement. Part passion. Slowly, achingly slowly, she lowered herself, and his cock slid up her ass. Finally, she could relinquish her hold on her legs, because they rested against his shoulders, and his balls rested against her ass cheeks. She felt so full she could barely dare to move. It was so unlike a full pussy. So much more, so much deeper, somehow. So much closer to the dazzling tangle of nerves at the base of her spine.

"Slowly at first, Mikey."

He nodded, and began sliding his cock slowly out of her ass. He was surprised how easily it moved, given how tight it felt. Then slowly back in. The second time, a little quicker, a little smoother. He looked deep into her eyes, and she nodded. He smiled at her, and began to increase his pace. He knew he couldn't last long in a place this perfect, and he wanted to make her cum.

Ooooh, she was going to cum. She could feel it all through her body. In her stomach, which almost felt like liquid. In her head, which was beginning to spin. It was like the best rollercoaster in the world, a deep, rumbling maelstrom of chemicals that was about to explode. His cock in her ass felt unbelievable, as if it was rasping against every nerve ending in her body. When she came, it happened so quickly she could do nothing but stretch, scream, and dig her hands into his back, arching up against him and feeling him slam his cock into the farthest reaches of her ass and hold it there, impaling her on the moment.

He was so wrapped up in making her cum, he didn't need any self-control to hold himself back. It just happened. He held her tighter and tighter, almost lifting her off the floor, and licked the length of her throat as she screamed, feeling the vibrations of her vocal chords on his tongue. He waited until her panting became a little more subdued, before he looked her in the eye.

She was sparkling, shimmering before him. She'd gone from pretty, to stunning, in an instant, her cum lighting her up from the inside and making her whole body sparkle with delight.

"Your turn, Mikey. Go for it."

She giggled at the look on his face. The kid let loose in the candy shop. He kissed her and she reached for his tongue with hers, as he began a series of short, stabbing thrusts up into her ass. She began to experience little cums on each thrust, as his cock reached deep into her and clawed at her ass on the way out. It seemed her butt never wanted to let him go. And then he came.

He arched up and screamed as his cum poured into her. Fuck, he'd never cum so much, or so hard. It was effortless, it just flowed in a seemingly endless peak. He could feel the cum pumping out of his cock and into her ass, feel the hot liquid sink back and around his cock as he continued pumping. He looked back down at her, and the happy, sexy, nasty grin on her face made him pump twice more.

He half-collapsed onto her, panting and dripping in their sweat. Her ankles were locked behind his back, and she stroked his hair as they recovered.

"Mikey" she whispered. "Any girl would be happy to get that cock......any girl."

He looked at her and smiled, and whispered back.

"Thank you.....and you are just.... fucking wonderful."

She smiled, and they lip-kissed, knowing that the parting started now. They eased apart slowly, languidly, but somehow not reluctantly. The silence as they got dressed was happy, relaxed silence. Neither knew why it didn't feel strained or awkward, it just didn't.

They stood waiting for the pod to finish the last few feet. She was leaning back into him, and he had his arms around her, stroking her neck almost absent-mindedly.

The doors slid open and they stepped into the cool air. It was still drizzling.

They held hands at arms' length.

"Thank you, Laura. And happy Valentine's Day"

"Thank you, Mikey. Better than buying a card, huh?"