The Gift

by Portia Da Costa

  ‘Weird thoughts in my head. Just ignore me. Get on with it.’ He laughed again, a low rumble that went right through both their bodies and vibrated in the very centre of her sex. Inclining over her, he pushed her forward against the sink, still stroking her clitoris while at the same time rubbing his hand over her bare bottom in lazy circles.

  What are you going to do? Smack me for being a greedy, horny girl?

  She couldn’t voice it, her throat was tight with lust, but he seemed to hear her. As she looked up to see him in the mirror again, he winked. ‘Maybe another time. I think I’d prefer to fuck you right now, if you don’t mind?’

  ‘I … I’ve no objections.’ Sandy let out a stifled squeak as a light, almost accidental orgasm set her pussy quivering. It wasn’t quite a proper full climax, more a little hiccup of pleasure, short and sharp, gone again in an instant.

  ‘Good girl. Now why don’t you push up your jumper and bra and let me get a look at your sweet little breasts?’

  ‘They’re not that little!’

  ‘Of course they aren’t. They’re the perfect size.’ As if to illustrate the fact, he rearranged his hands, sliding them both between the edge of counter and her chest, underneath her jumper, each to cradle a breast, thumbing her nipples through the lace mesh of one of her second-best bras. She’d decided that if she wore her top-of-the-range stuff, her La Perla, he probably wouldn’t have turned up today, but she still wanted her body to look nice for him, if he did, and she got lucky.

  She almost laughed again. More weird thoughts whilst being stroked and fondled and fooled about with by a near stranger.

  Obeying him, she straightened up, pushed her jumper up in a bunch, and then her bra too, nudging his hands aside to free her breasts. The result was so rude and so racy, she couldn’t really look at herself, but Jay’s warm hand cupped her chin this time and forced her to face the mirror.

  Beneath the bundled wool of her jumper and her pushed-up bra, her breasts and her chest looked pink too, flushed with hungry excitement. She’d never seen her nipples so hard, or felt them that way either. They were so crinkled and erect that it bordered upon pain. But it was a good pain. One that made her gasp when Jay cupped her again and flicked each teat with his thumbs.

  ‘Very nice … very nice …’ His mouth was against the side of her neck again, ruffling the errant strands of her hair. He pushed her breasts together and in the mirror he admired the deeper channel of her cleavage that way. ‘I’d like to fuck you there sometime. In between your gorgeous breasts, slow and easy, then come on your face.’

  It was so crude, so vivid, that Sandy’s knees went weak and she would have swayed and maybe fallen but for the press of Jay’s body against her back. Her arms and hands were like cotton wool, resting against the counter but unable to support her.

  ‘Not now though. Not now. Right at this moment, I just want to be inside you and make you come again, around my cock.’ With a last slow caressing squeeze, he abandoned her breasts and gently laid her forward over the counter and the sink. The far edge of the porcelain basin was cool against her burning face, and it calmed her. She pressed her cheek against it, resting passively while behind her Jay unzipped and took out his penis, quickly sheathing it in a condom from his back pocket.

  ‘Hey, no sleeping on the job!’

  The little tap on her bottom was barely more than a touch, but Sandy shot up in the air as if she’d been goosed by a laser. Her sex flurried, ground zero for the jolt. In the mirror she looked into her own face and met eyes that were wide with shock, and dark, oh so dark, with arousal.

  And she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

  ‘Did you like that?’

  Jay’s own eyes were just as dark, just as intense with desire. And he was doing that evil-delightful thing with his tongue over his lower lip again.

  ‘I … I don’t know.’ It was the truth, although her body seemed to know the score and she realised she was pressing back, pushing her bottom against Jay’s erection and rubbing to and fro. He held her wrists, and swung his own hips, pushing and circling, matching her rhythm. In the mirror, he cocked his head, as if assessing her and reading currents of longing she couldn’t articulate.

  ‘I think you do. But you’re not quite sure you want it today,’ he said, leaning close, his voice low and soft, infinitely wise. ‘I think that today you just want what I want. And that’s to fuck.’ Her face flamed again. Why did he have this habit of making her into a sex maniac? It’d never happened this way with any other man. Yes, she liked sex, and she wasn’t a prude, but she’d never wanted to rush at it as voraciously as she did with Jay Bentley.

  ‘OK! I do. Of course I do! But it’s you that makes me that way. God, I’ve never known a man like you for railroading me into sex, or whatever, within moments of us setting eyes on one another.’ She paused, gasping, as his latex-clad cock slid up and down the groove of her bottom and the thought of what Kat and Gregg had done last night barrelled into her mind.

  Thank God there was no butter here in the cloakroom!

  ‘Are you always this rampant?’ she demanded, catching her breath as a slippery stream of her honey slid down the inside of her thigh. That was another thing. No other man had ever made her so spontaneously wet. ‘Do you always have a hard-on?’

  It was as if Jay had been turned to stone in the blink of an eye. And not just his cock. His entire body was still, tense, almost angry.

  ‘What’s wrong? What did I say?’

  Sandy tried to turn, to see his face, and its sudden raw pain, directly.

  ‘Nothing. You haven’t done anything wrong at all.’

  But his face was hidden now, down, buried in the crook of her neck, his cheek pressed against her bare skin. She almost imagined she could feel the faint ridges of his scars, although the thought was unlikely really because they were so very fine and carefully crafted.

  ‘In fact, you’ve done everything right for me, Sandy. Everything.’ He looked up again, his eyes suspiciously shining as if some intense emotion, more than lust, had brought moisture to them. ‘And I can’t thank you enough, because I’m not entirely sure I deserve what I’m about to get.’

  The sheen in his eyes seemed to fade, and his face crinkled into a wicked, wry, worldly wise grin.

  ‘And you’re dead sure you’re going to get it?’ Pertly, she pushed with her bottom again, massaging that fabulous hard intruder that was pushing between her soft folds from behind.

  ‘Oh, I think so.’ God, that smile, that smile … ‘Or you wouldn’t have let yourself be persuaded so easily into pulling your pants down and showing me your pussy. Or pushing your top up and letting me fondle your delightful breasts.’ He cupped a breast, massaging it with precise enthusiasm, while at the same time loosely clasping at the delta of her sex. ‘I’d say that’s a pretty fair indication of your willingness.’

  ‘Brute!’

  ‘Sex kitten!’

  ‘Pig!’

  ‘Horny little minx!’

  Sandy giggled, squirming against him. ‘Minx? Since when did men ever call women “minxes” nowadays? I thought that was only in old books, historical novels.’

  ‘Suits you. You are a minx.’

  Grinning, he switched his approach, reaching beneath her from behind to fit himself neatly into her entrance. Realising she’d have to cooperate, Sandy tilted her hips and eased her thighs apart as best she could within the hobble of her pushed-down jeans and panties, trying to give him more room to manoeuvre.

  ‘That’s a good girl. Just a bit more.’ Bending his knees, Jay adjusted his angle, gave a little shove, and gained purchase by holding her hip as well as her breast. Then he took her breath away with a long hard push, sliding inside her.

  Oh, wow!

  She’d never been a size queen. She hadn’t really been with all that many men. But Jay was big, and hot, and fabulous. And he held still, in up to the deepest point, owning her with the might of his body.

  She was a size queen w
ith him.

  ‘Are you all right, Princess?’

  His rough voice was soft and edgy, full of ragged emotion.

  ‘Yes, yes, I am …’ It was difficult to frame words, she was so focused on her body and how he felt inside her.

  ‘Good.’ Pushing again with his hips, he swirled his pelvis, taking her with him, stretching her. She shimmered around him, close to the edge already. Subsiding onto one elbow, she reached around and grasped his denim-clad thigh, his tensing backside through his jeans, wanting to be closer, naked, every inch of her skin against every inch of his that she could reach.

  ‘Touch yourself, Princess, not me. I want you to come. I want you to play with yourself, do what you like to do. For yourself.’

  He was gasping, quite far gone, as excited as she was. Even teetering on the precipice of her own orgasm, she wanted to please him. Reaching down, she found her clit, then squeaked with pleasure it was so ready, so sensitive. It barely needed a stroke or two to force the issue and bring down her orgasm from on high. Her pussy clenched at his cock and she fell forward, her head dangling in the sink. Jay made a low broken sound, reached around and gently cupped her head while he started to work her with his hips, in and out, in and out.

  Within a few moments he froze, then jerked and pounded harder, his big hand still cradling her forehead to stop her bumping her head against the porcelain bowl.

  ‘Oh, Sandy, Sandy, Sandy … you’re amazing. You’re amazing … Thank you!’

  An instant later, with a long sigh, he came inside her.

  After all the action, and the grunting and gasping, the silence in the tiny room was like a blanket enclosing them. Sandy could almost hear the sweat drying on her skin, and on Jay’s. When she had energy again, she pressed her head against his hand, like a cat seeking affection, and almost purred like one when his fingers curved against the bare skin of her brow, as if he really were stroking and petting a beloved feline.

  ‘Oh Christ.’ His voice was ragged, rougher even than normal. ‘That was something else, God Almighty … something else.’

  Gently, he raised her up from her collapse, and turned her. His eyes were still stormy in his scarred face, but tender with it. His gaze darted from her eyes to her mouth, searching for something, then he kissed her on the lips in a brief light buss, and smoothed the strands of hair back from her face that were swirling around it. Her plait was so loose it was bordering on non-existent, the carelessly looped scrunchie sliding out and freeing the wavy auburn mass.

  He heaved a sigh, not sadly, but out of a well of deep thought. Sandy didn’t know what to say, her own thoughts were deep too, blurred but disquieting. She had a sense of all safety and security in her life shifting like quicksand, all her expectations and everything she’d assumed and believed, liquefying and sliding sideways.

  The door handle rattled once, and the pair of them jumped inches the way you did when you fall in a dream.

  ‘Bloody hell!’

  Sandy dragged up her knickers and jeans, or at least tried to. How could such simple uncomplicated garments get so tangled and unmanageable? With his own jeans still open, and his softened penis still poking out in its latex coat, Jay brushed her hands away and effortlessly smoothed her panties up her thighs and into place, patting her crotch possessively as he did so, and giving her a wink. Then he did the same with her jeans, covering her efficiently but with tenderness, before attending to himself and disposing of the condom in several layers of tissue.

  Sandy wrinkled her nostrils. ‘God, this place smells like a knocking shop!’

  Jay chuckled. ‘Well, I was going to say a Turkish brothel, but yes, I’m afraid you’re right.’ He reached up and pushed the top light on the small window as wide as it would go, making the lace curtains below it slap and flutter. ‘There that’s better.’ His big chest lifted as he breathed in the cold, fresh air from outside. ‘Not that I don’t love the way you smell,’ he added, turning towards her, looking devilish and hungry all over again, even though presumably he was sated for the time being. ‘And taste.’

  ‘Don’t do that!’

  His tongue … the way he licked his lips. It made her feel devilish and hungry, especially for the feel of his mouth on her, like last night.

  ‘Look, your coffee will be cold and people will be wondering why you’re in the loo so long! Get out there, will you?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ He laughed, his hand on the doorknob. ‘I better had, hadn’t I? I don’t want anybody to pinch my mince pie.’

  The expression on his face said he wasn’t really thinking about confectionery, but, before Sandy had time to react, he’d flashed her a wink, then slid out of the little cloakroom.

  Oh God, what did I just do?

  A sensation of shock combined with total exhilaration swept through her. She’d fucked a lovely man in the cloakroom of the Little Teapot. Had she ever even fantasised about that? It was bizarre. She’d daydreamed about sexy trysts in various locations, but never really on her home turf, the Teapot. It’d mostly been the usual luxe settings she’d imagined. Hotels like the Waverley, holiday scenarios, Club Tropicana, all that. But never in a tiny little loo, inches from the toilet and hanging over the sink.

  In the mirror her face was still pink and her eyes were still bright. She didn’t quite look like herself somehow. Maybe she was ‘Princess’? Maybe she’d been transformed into a princess of hotness, brought to life by a kiss between her legs from the horniest and most perverse Prince Charming she could ever have conjured up?

  Whatever it was, even though she was still glowing with satisfaction and her pussy was still quietly simmering, there was no doubt she was going to have to change her knickers before she went back into the café.

  ‘Did I really just do that?’ she muttered to herself as she closed the door, and ran up the stairs towards the flat.

  Chapter 9

  Did I really just do that?

  Jay glanced up at the window of the Little Teapot. It wasn’t the one belonging to the little cloakroom. That was around the back, overlooking the yard, but, even so, his imagination took him back there and recreated the feel of Sandy in his arms.

  What had she done to him? He’d gone from being a sexually troubled man, unsure of his ability to perform, to being an insatiable unstoppable horn-dog, purely from the sight and touch and even just the thought of her. Right now, simply imagining her lovely round bottom nestling against his groin, and the hot sweet embrace of her sex around his dick, had him shifting uncomfortably on the wooden bench where he waited for her, and hardening yet again.

  She wasn’t the woman he’d come to Kissley to meet. She wasn’t his dream. But somehow this different woman was the right woman for the moment, she was the one to make him whole again.

  Well, at least put right the temporary inability to get it up that he’d had. Not even a raw, incredible, strangely tender coming together of bodies such as the one he’d just shared with Sandy could rid him of his ever-present aches and pains. Now that the endorphins of orgasm were dissipating, his sore bones gouged at him, but at least the effects were filtered through a satisfied sensual glow that offset somewhat the sharp December chill.

  Stretching on the bench, he monitored each limb, each joint. He was getting better. Had sex really helped? Who knew, but he wasn’t arguing with the therapy.

  If only other issues were so pleasantly dealt with. Swivelling around, he glanced towards the old supermarket site. He was going to have to admit to Sandy who he really was sooner or later. If he allowed himself to think about it, deceiving her hurt because, when she discovered it, it would hurt her too, and God knew he didn’t want that, regardless of whether she was his dream woman or even … Well, he hated to pull the wool over anyone’s eyes.

  He’d tell her soon, he swore to himself. Very soon. But not just yet.

  Let me have just a little while longer to enjoy being a man again. A little while longer just having sweet uncomplicated sex with a sweet and deliciously complicate
d woman.

  Then he’d face the music. The truth. The fact that he might lose her as soon as he’d found her.

  The pain in his bones felt strangely muted when set against that prospect.

  Sandy stopped at the top of the stairs, just out of Kat’s line of sight. Her heart was pounding. She was afraid, but not quite sure what she was afraid of.

  Was it Jay? Or herself? The new, strange, sexually voracious Sandy she’d really only been introduced to for the first time in her life last night.

  She’d had to get changed and have what her mum would call a quick ‘strip wash’, standing shivering in front of the sink upstairs this time, in her own bathroom, unable to stop thinking about what had happened in front of a different sink, not so long ago, downstairs. Every time she looked up from the soapy water she’d expected to see Jay reflected behind her, and when she washed between her legs, mopping away the sweat and musk of their coupling, her sensitised flesh had started to rouse again as if he were the one cautiously cleansing her.

  There hadn’t been time for much more than the swiftest of ablutions though. He’d said, ‘See you in ten minutes,’ as he’d set off down the stairs. ‘I’ll wait outside.’

  Bossy bugger, she’d thought, trying to feel feisty and rebellious while some soft melting part of her thrilled, imagining all kinds of domination and power at his hands.

  At the bottom of the steps there was a mirror, for patrons to check themselves for whipped cream or tomato sauce on their chins before exiting into the precinct.

  ‘God, woman, you still look like you’ve just been fucked!’ she muttered, tutting at the pink flush in her cheeks and the tell-tale sparks in her eyes. Not to mention her nipples, which seemed to have a life of their own, and were already poking through the lace of her bra and the brushed cotton of her top. She’d changed into a fresh one of each, cream lace beneath and wine-coloured cotton jersey overlaying it, a cosy button-fronted number with applique trim that looked good with the long black swirly velvet skirt she was wearing on her bottom half. It was all a bit hippy-dippy looking, but they were handy and easy to slip into in a hurry. Especially when she’d spent many precious seconds searching for the bra.