The Man in 3B

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The Man in 3B Page 10

by Alexis Shore


  It would have been nice to see a fried breakfast waiting for her at this point, and she realised quite how hungry she was. There was a lot of energy to replenish. Plenty of high carbs for Sheena today. Guilt-free ones too.

  She could keep that guilt for last night.

  Sheena smiled, unable to really feel bad about the whole thing. Even the inevitable awkwardness with Rachael would pass. And maybe it would be the start of something with Jay.

  Even if it was an intense start to something.

  At least she knew for sure that there was a mutual attraction. And at least she knew the sex wouldn’t be disappointing.

  The doorbell rang.

  It was Rachael, she knew it. Probably for the best. Get that initial discomfort out of the way, have a laugh about it, but show no regrets. And no coy talking around the subject. No shame. Just confront it, move on.

  With a broad grin she pulled open the door.

  It was Mike.

  Cock.

  The smile vanished off her face and turned into an undisguised scowl. She’d forgotten he was even there last night. But judging from the way he was leering at her tits, he hadn’t.

  Perhaps he should.

  It’s not like he gave a good account of himself.

  “Yes?” she asked testily.

  “Hey babe,” he said, stepping forward.

  She blocked his path, not wanting him at her door let alone in her flat again.

  “Yeah ok,” he smiled. “Have a good night last night?”

  “Got better after you left.”

  Wow, that actually looked like it stung him. Oh well. She chose to smile anyway.

  “Okay, so,” he struck one of his stupid body-builder poses, totally unaware it just showed off his flabby belly. “I just want to let you know that me and Rach are going to be an item.”

  Sheena snorted a single, derisory laugh.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he flexed his arms. “You saw how into me she was last night, so I thought, you know, things with Neve have petered out, I fancy someone new. And she’s just my type. But I don’t want you getting all jealous and shit.”

  “No worries there,” Sheena choked back a giggle.

  “But equally,” he put on what he thought was his sexy face, “If you wanna have a little bonus fun with me on the side, I’m up for …”

  She shut the door.

  As she walked back to the kitchen, she had to stop and laugh out loud. How did she ever fall for him? A heady cocktail of loneliness and horniness had seriously clouded her judgment. But at least now he was completely out of her system.

  Sheena made some eggs, and wolfed them back with delight.

  But as she sat drinking her second cup of coffee, she began to think about Rachael. At first, she was simply remembering the way her tits moved as Jay thrust into her, but then Sheena recalled how her friend had been flirting with Mike before it all kicked off.

  And Rachael’s mind did seem to be elsewhere. Something was bothering her. It had been months since her break up with Harry. It was unlike her to avoid talking about her feelings, and Sheena was now worried that Rachael was just as lonely and horny as she herself had been.

  This would be the worst time for her friend to be hoodwinked by Mike.

  But Rachael wasn’t as naïve as Sheena. Perhaps it was unfair to think her so vulnerable. The sexual frenzy of last night was irresistible, and Sheena wondered if she had been in her friend’s situation, would she too have reached out for Mike’s cock?

  Probably.

  It would have been disappointing, for sure, especially with Peter’s in full view, but nonetheless.

  Perhaps it would be politically expedient to warn Rachael that Mike had misread the whole thing, leaving the rest up to her without influencing her choices with snide or bitchy comments.

  That would certainly be the mature thing to do.

  Maybe a quip about his tiny dick.

  Just one.

  Sheena snorted into her coffee, almost making it bubble up her nose. She was certainly in a good mood. All those endorphins from numerous loud, unshackled orgasms no doubt.

  It would be quite nice to have some more.

  She squeezed her thighs together, feeling them ache a little, but loving the other sensations. There was another decision to be made. Play it cool with Jay, and risk him thinking she regretted it, or go over there right now and jump on his lap again.

  There had to be some middle ground.

  She crossed her legs, enjoying the frisson of pressure against her clit. Maybe wait until this evening. If she could.

  Sheena sat back and let her robe fall open, sinking into the seat to part her legs a little. She ran her middle finger down through the soft hair of her bush, letting it gently rest on her hooded button. Not moving, just pressing it with a feather-like touch, wanting desperately to tease it more, but refusing to do so.

  It was exquisite.

  Resisting temptation as deeply erotic memories flashed before her eyes.

  Then, she began to stroke in an almost imperceptible circle, barely moving, but focussing intently on the delicious sensations.

  The doorbell rang.

  Fuck it.

  She tugged her robe around her in annoyance.

  Ooh, it might be Jay.

  Letting the robe loosen a little, revealing the valley of her cleavage, she opened the door with a simpering smile.

  It was Rachael.

  Must start using the peephole again.

  They made a face at one another, then smiled. That seemed to cover it all really. Who knew? Rachael stepped in and gave her a lingering peck on the cheek, letting her hand rest on Sheena’s hip as she did so. It was more tender than normal, but conveyed the sentiment perfectly.

  This wasn’t going to be an issue.

  And no endless sharing of their feelings about it all. Lovely. Perfectly English.

  They settled in their usual seats for a natter over a cup of tea. Rachael had a lot more colour in her cheeks than she’d had recently. A rigorous workout really cleared out the cobwebs. But she still seemed a little distant, and her mind was clearly on other things.

  Maybe now wasn’t the best time to add to her worries. But was it unfair not to warn her about Mike’s intentions? Rachael was strong-willed and could stand up for herself, so maybe Sheena should leave it.

  A little warning though. “Mike’s strutting about this morning.”

  “Ha,” Rachael actually said Ha. “He should be skulking, like he skulked off last night.”

  A little moment of tension, as that was the first actual mention of the event, but it quickly went away.

  “Hope he doesn’t think he’s going to get a repeat performance,” Sheena said, looking over the rim of her cup.

  “Tough if he does think that. Wonder what he told Neve?”

  And that was the extent of their conversation about Mike. Sheena was pleased to note that Rachael had a clear head on the matter, and chastised herself a little for having such a patronising thought about it all. Of course Rachael knew how to handle herself.

  Sheena crossed her legs under the table, unable to resist having a prolonged squeeze as they continued to chat. Why did a good fuck always make you immediately want more? Sex and chocolate were the same like that.

  God she wanted to finger herself.

  But more than that, she wanted to go and see Jay, to see if there was more to come, or whether she should forget it and move on.

  With a tiny shake of the head, she bought her attention back into the room. Rachael was getting up to leave. Sheena smiled as she leant down, expecting the usual cheek peck, but their lips brushed together for a fleeting, electric moment. The vibrant memory of their kiss over Peter’s cock danced in her mind as she watched Rachael’s ass leaving the room.

  That was unexpected.

  There was still an awful lot of sexual tension in the air. Sheena wondered how long it would take to dissipate. Or if she even wanted it to.
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  She headed to the wardrobe to pick out the right outfit. Nothing too obvious, but nothing too off-putting either. A mild variation of last night’s choice perhaps? Something to tickle Jay’s memory. A scooped neckline and a knee length, butt hugging skirt?

  Or something that told him she was his wanton whore?

  Sheena blinked.

  Then blinked again.

  She’d been called that before.

  A lot.

  On the phone.

  Bastard.

  Fourteen

  Sheena stared at the email shining so bright from her smartphone screen. “Fancy a fuck tonight?” There was no clue in his Hotmail name, nor, as far as she could tell, her own anonymous email handle.

  They had met in a chatroom many moons ago. Sheena had never given away anything personal that could identify her, except of course her phone number. But there was no directory for mobile numbers.

  But that voice, so deep with arousal, telling her she was a wonton whore in exactly the same way. On the phone a voice was different, but when whispered into her ear, it was the tone that rang true.

  Jay couldn’t be the same guy. Could he?

  Did he know? Was this all part of some disturbing stalking plan?

  Surely she was letting her imagination run away from her.

  God, why did she do this whenever she vaguely liked someone? She tossed the phone onto the bed, watching it bounce about, chastising herself for looking for the merest excuse to fuck things up before they had even started. Why was she so afraid of being hurt that she’d only see a guy who, she knew deep down, was treating her like shit?

  Her shriek, so short and shrill, hurt her ears.

  She slumped on to the bed and looked at the handset again. Her phone lover always withheld his number. She assumed that was because he was married and didn’t want her calling him at any old time of the day. That always seemed fair enough to Sheena.

  Annoyingly though, it meant she couldn’t call him and ask. Or call him whilst she was in his flat and see if Jay’s phone rang.

  She needed to know.

  Sheena rolled onto her back and kicked her feet about in the air. Grrrrrr. Ten minutes ago she had been ready to cross the vestibule and drag him into bed. Now she just wanted to know. Was it him? Was he some weirdo stalker?

  That might explain why she felt so odd after just one glass of wine.

  Oh no.

  She bent over into herself, scared to wonder anymore. Paranoia had a habit of winding her up for no reason whatsoever. But come on, last night was so out of character. How the hell does a drink together suddenly turn into a full blown orgy?

  And now she couldn’t remember anyone actually asking for their drink. It just seemed to be handed to them.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck.

  Stupid brain.

  Right.

  Se had to know. Immediately.

  As she swept through the flat towards the door, she pulled her silk robe tight around her chest and tied it firmly at the waist, venting her anger by yanking it hard.

  Out in the vestibule, she could hear two people rowing, but didn’t care enough to figure out who. Instead she crossed the hallway and poked her finger hard into Jay’s doorbell.

  Shit.

  What was she going to say?

  “Oi, have you ever made me come on the phone?”

  Some of the venom of her anger simpered away in embarrassment. But she was still indignant enough to wait for him to answer the door. From there she would improvise.

  And when he did answer, he had the gall and cheek to be smiling at her.

  “I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again,” he said, stepping aside to let her stride in.

  She walked around the living room, fingering things like a suspicious detective as they exchanged some pleasantries, almost flirtatious in their language. She didn’t want to accuse him of something that might scare him away, but equally she didn’t want to let a freak into her life.

  Her fingers alighted on the bottle of Merlot, still half full. She picked it up and sniffed. It smelt like day old wine. But then, what would it even smell like if he’d put something in it?

  “We haven’t met before have we?” she asked sweetly.

  “No,” he admitted. “But you have to admit there was a spark.”

  Sheena smiled weakly, walking around the sofa, keeping an eye out for his phone. Her travels about the room bought her within touching distance of Jay, and he reached out, stroking his finger across her hip as she passed.

  She wondered if he thought she was having a little dance with him.

  Maybe she was.

  But not quite the way he was thinking.

  The door to his bedroom was open, and there, as far as she could tell, on the bedside table was his phone. Now here was a dilemma. If she walked towards his bed, wearing a slinky night gown, there was no way he wouldn’t think she wanted more.

  A part of her did want more.

  But a bigger part wanted the truth.

  “You ever done anything like that before?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “God no,” he laughed. “I’m very vanilla. Have you?”

  “No,” she feigned a coo, “I’m not quite that vanilla though.”

  “Really?” he stepped towards her with a lascivious look on his face. Now he really did want her.

  “Not sure phone sex with a stranger from the internet is all that bad though,” she said, looking right in to his eyes.

  “No,” he swirled the end of her silk belt with the tip of his finger. “But it does sound hot.”

  “We could try it if you like?” she examined his face closely.

  “Umm,” he sort of baulked at the thought. “I’m sure something real would be a lot more fun.”

  “Maybe,” and with that she stepped into his bedroom.

  Unsurprisingly, he followed in behind her, catching up to hold her hips and nuzzle gently into the nape of her neck. Her eyes stared at the phone as her body began to betray her, melting back into his embrace, just as he untied her robe and let it fall open.

  As his tongue licked up her neck and teased at her ear, his hands cupped at her breasts, almost weighing them with a subtle squeeze. She blinked, swallowing back her arousal, but unable to stop from pushing her ass back into him, feeling how hard he was for her.

  For a moment that phone seemed less important somehow.

 

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