Sex, Love & Valentines

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Sex, Love & Valentines Page 18

by Miranda Forbes


  He was still dizzy and disoriented, when Katy suddenly leapt up off his drained cock and spun around, landing back down in his lap with a bare-bummed splat. Then she cranked the key on the riding mower and shifted into gear and drove the machine right through the hidden door between two piles of spare parts.

  They burst into the mower chop-shop in back doing twenty miles per hour, Katy whipping up her arms, and boobs, and whooping with triumph. Her dad’s brand-new Toro Classic GT/315-8 sat there shining under a single hanging lightbulb, still mainly in one piece.

  “See, I measured the length of the building before I went in,” Katy informed the smiling Sheriff. “Then paced off the distance inside when I was talking to Mr Bjarnson. And there was a twelve-foot discrepancy – where the chop-shop was hidden. Which I suspected all along, given Greenfinger’s dirty dealings in the past.” She blushed when she said ‘dirty dealings’.

  Sheriff Perkins handed the beaming teen sleuth her Honorary Deputy Certificate, as the gathered crowd cheered and cameras clicked. Then the bald, beefy law enforcer leaned in closer to the dolled-up girl, squeezing her hand and suggesting, “Maybe you’d like to ride along with the night-shift sometime, huh, sweetheart?”

  Katy grinned and bobbed her red head, her bright blue eyes twinkling. “I might just investigate your offer, Sheriff,” she cooed. “Crime-solving is sooo satisfying, after all. And nothing beats real hands-on training!”

  Nightcap

  by Elizabeth Cage

  Common sense should have told Robyn that February in Dresden would be cold. Bitter cold. After all, it was still winter back in the UK. She hadn’t quite expected what seemed like arctic conditions. She had packed skirts, tights, woolly socks and jumpers and worn them all – at the same time. The evenings were worst of all. Walking down the romantically lamplit streets, she pulled her pink beanie hat over her ears and pushed her gloved hands into her jacket pockets, but her fingertips still felt numb.

  Still, there were two things to be grateful for. Firstly, the Marketing Conference was over. She loved her job but three whole days with fellow IT sales reps was enough for anyone. So now she had some time to sightsee before her flight home the following afternoon. Which brought her to the second thing she was glad of. Dresden was a truly beautiful city. When the taxi had collected her from the airport, she had been awestruck by how romantic and magical it looked, the golden glow of the streetlights reflecting on the river as they crossed over the bridge. The old buildings, steeped in history, were strikingly elegant and she felt like she was stepping back in time as they pulled up outside the 4-star hotel opposite an expensive-looking shopping mall. She was only steps away from the famous Frauenkirche Church and the River Elbe. Far too romantic to be here alone, she reflected, her breath rising in spirals in the chill night air. Walking through the quiet streets, she contrasted a Saturday night in her home town, dodging drunken lads and noisy ladettes, and stepping over vomit and discarded chip wrappers, with this civilised place where the only people she encountered on the street were just leaving the local theatre or opera house, smartly dressed and properly behaved. It was like a different world.

  Even so, Robyn couldn’t remember ever feeling this cold. It seemed to penetrate her very bones. She needed heat – and quickly. There were plenty of welcoming restaurants and bars down the main street and she stepped inside the nearest one. The warmth hit her in the face as soon as she opened the door but it was unbelievably welcome. Then she noticed how crowded the bar was and realised there was nowhere free to sit. Reluctantly, Robyn turned to go when a smiling waitress appeared and gestured her up some stairs to another level where a small alcove overlooked the rest of the bar. It was perfect. Tucked away, yet still in company, there being two other small tables, both occupied by couples.

  Unlike some of her female friends, Robyn never felt self-conscious about eating or drinking alone in public. The whole Bridget Jones singleton thing hadn’t done women any favours, she reflected. One couple was young, probably in their twenties, clearly besotted with each other, their fingers entwined as they gazed continuously into each other’s eyes. She smiled. Twenty years ago that could have been her. The other couple was late middle-aged and long-term married, she decided. They were not as tactile but shared the comfortable familiarity that comes with mutual longevity. She wondered where she would be in twenty years time – ten even. She couldn’t think further ahead than a month at the most, sometimes only a week and that was how she liked it. Minimal planning – offering the opportunity for spontaneity. Robyn enjoyed not knowing what was around the corner. That’s what made life fun.

  She sipped deliciously hot, strong coffee with plenty of brown sugar. By the time she’d finished, the young couple had left and their table was quickly filled, this time by a dark-haired guy wearing trendy, steel-rimmed glasses. Robyn had always had a thing for men in glasses. They changed a person’s appearance, so when the glasses were removed, it was like someone different. Like having two men for the price of one, she reflected. A vulnerable Clark Kent and a masterful Superman. She tingled as she imagined it.

  Robyn was amused, if somewhat surprised, when he ordered a beer for himself and water for his clearly devoted companion sitting on the chair opposite. The man was attractive, probably in his thirties, with clear, chalk-blue eyes and sharply defined features. But it was his gorgeous companion that really got her attention. Robyn couldn’t help staring. It was all she could do to contain her desire to touch…

  Finally, in her faltering German, she went over to the table and said, ‘Excuse me, but may I?’

  The man smiled and nodded as Robyn reached out and stroked the adorable dachshund that looked up at her with liquid brown eyes.

  ‘I love dogs,’ she explained.

  ‘So I see,’ he replied adding, ‘English?’

  Robyn laughed. ‘Is my accent that bad?’

  ‘Not at all, your German is good,’ he replied in impeccable English. ‘She is called Freya by the way. And she loves fuss and attention.’

  ‘Hey, don’t we all,’ said Robyn fondling the dog’s silky ears, adding, ‘I’m Robyn.’

  ‘Karl Herzliebe.’

  ‘Herzliebe. Doesn’t that mean love heart?’

  ‘Literally, it is heart love.’

  ‘What a romantic name,’ said Robyn.

  He shrugged, blushing, and, embarrassed to have made him feel awkward she said, ‘Well, I’m named after a garden bird.’

  ‘Renowned for its red…er…plumage,’ he replied, glancing at the tight figure-hugging crimson sweater that showed off her ample cleavage to maximum effect. Now it was her turn to blush. She stepped back towards her table, deciding she should leave him in peace, but he said quickly, ‘Don’t go. Freya likes you. See?’

  The dachshund was wagging her tail, eager for more attention.

  ‘You are very welcome to join us.’

  Robyn hesitated but he had already got up and pulled a chair out for her.

  ‘Thank you.’ She sat down and their legs touched. She noticed he did not move away. Neither did she.

  ‘This wouldn’t happen in the UK,’ she said.

  He looked puzzled. ‘So, English men do not flirt with women in bars?’

  She shook her head, laughing. ‘I meant Freya. Dogs wouldn’t be allowed in bars or restaurants like this, not unless they were guide dogs. They certainly wouldn’t be sitting on a chair at the table like a person.’

  ‘Why not?”

  ‘Health and safety, I suppose, or food hygiene laws.’

  ‘Does it offend you?’

  ‘Not at all. I think it’s really nice. Like I said, I’m very fond of dogs.’

  ‘Do you have a pet?’

  ‘Not allowed. I rent a top-floor flat and no dogs or cats are permitted. But I do voluntary dog walking for a local animal charity, most Sundays.’


  ‘That’s kind.’

  ‘I enjoy it and it’s good exercise, while performing a service.’

  He eyed her mischievously and for a moment she wondered if he was going to make a smutty remark. He didn’t say it but she guessed from his expression he was probably thinking it.

  ‘Can I buy you another drink?’

  ‘I’ll have a cappuccino, thanks.’

  By the time the drinks arrived, Freya had jumped up onto her lap and was lying on her back, demanding a tummy tickle. Robyn obliged.

  ‘I’m afraid she will moult all over your lovely sweater,’ he apologised, his eyes lingering.

  Robyn shrugged. ‘That doesn’t worry me.’

  She felt perfectly relaxed. It was an unexpected pleasure, enjoying a drink with a sexy stranger and his cuddly pet, in a nice warm bar in a romantic city.

  As steamy froth dribbled down the over-full china cup, Robyn licked it up, catching the milky fluid before it escaped. Karl Herzliebe reached out and wiped it from her mouth with his long fingers, letting them linger. She flicked her tongue over her lips, catching his fingertips.

  She decided to pick up on his earlier remark. ‘Are you flirting with me?’

  ‘Would you like me to?’

  Robyn smiled sweetly, enjoying the game. ’Delicious coffee. Hot and satisfying. Just what I need.’

  When it was time to leave, he said, ‘Let me walk you back to your hotel.’

  ‘Thanks but it’s only round the corner from here. I don’t want you and Freya to go out of your way.’

  ‘It’s not. I live close by. Very close. Here actually.’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘I own the bar.’

  ‘You own it?’

  He nodded.

  ‘It’s a very nice bar.’

  ‘My flat upstairs is even nicer.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Like to see it?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I can offer you a nightcap.’

  ‘You trying to tempt me?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘What kind of nightcap?’

  ‘One you’ll never forget.’

  Robyn didn’t need asking twice. Minutes later, she found herself pinned against the wall of a black and chrome designer kitchen in an upmarket penthouse, her tongue down Karl Herzliebe’s throat as he pushed his hand up her heavy skirt and rolled down her woolly tights. Robyn loved the contrast – from civilised conversation in a bar to frantic, hungry sex in a matter of seconds. She fumbled for his shirt buttons, almost ripping the fabric in her haste, needing to feel flesh. She wanted to eat him.

  He ran his hands over her bare legs and curvaceous hips, groaning with delight as they tongue wrestled and Robyn clawed at his back. They were both impatient. Quickly, he hooked his fingers inside the flimsy fabric of her lacy boyshorts, probing and stroking, exploring her wetness, while his other hand tried to lift her tight-fitting red sweater. Robyn helped him haul it over her head, and he moaned appreciatively when it revealed her voluptuous breasts, trapped in a black push-up bra. Though not for much longer. He reached for the hook fastening at the back and muttered, ‘Your bad boys are free now,’ as her breasts sprang out.

  Side-stepping the pile of clothes on the floor, Robyn pushed her large breasts forcefully against his bare chest as she unfastened the leather belt of his jeans. When she yanked the zip down, it was his turn to spring out.

  ‘I think your bad boy is free too,’ she grinned, grasping the hard rod with both hands and plunging her mouth over the purple head, gorging herself. She felt his fingers burying themselves in her hair as he cradled her head, pulling her closer while she sucked and licked. His cries grew louder and louder until he said. ‘Stop. I want to taste you first.’

  Robyn obeyed and released him from her mouth, allowing herself to be lowered onto the polished wood floor so that Karl Herzliebe could bury his head between her wide open legs. His appetite matched her own and as he licked and nibbled enthusiastically, she thought he would suck her dry. She was in heaven.

  After a while he lifted his head to remove his glasses, saying, ‘They are all steamed up. And sticky.’

  Robyn shook her head. ‘No. Leave them on. For now.’

  He seemed surprised, but said, ‘OK, kinky bitch,’ before diving once more into the depths of her soaking pussy. She was unable to hold back any longer and her passion and greed soon overwhelmed her. As she came loudly, her body wracked by waves of intense pleasure, he crouched over her and rammed his glistening cock into her open mouth, muffling her cries. His groans soon overtook hers in volume as he quickly exploded, and Robyn’s mouth was filled with hot, sticky fluid, which trickled down her chin and spilled over onto her breasts.

  They lay side by side for a while, panting hard, getting their breath back. Eventually, Robyn sat up and said, ‘I’m surprised you can see anything through those glasses. What a mess. I think they need cleaning.’ She leaned over him, her still-hard nipples brushing against his face. ‘So you can take them off now.’

  She had experienced the wild side of Clark Kent and loved every minute. But now she wanted Superman.

  ‘You look different without your glasses,’ she said, putting them out of harm’s way on the glass coffee-table.

  ‘Better?’

  ‘Different. Just as sexy. But different.’

  And she kissed him gently on the forehead. ‘So I get another man for Round Two.’

  He laughed. ‘You are a very greedy, kinky bitch. But I did promise you a nightcap you would never forget. Stay there.’

  He rolled over onto his side and got to his feet, leaving Robyn basking in her afterglow. When he returned, he was holding two tumblers of whisky.

  ‘Cheers,’ he said, offering her the drink. It was good whisky, strong yet smooth. Robyn always found the smell of whisky a turn-on. Her German lover took a mouthful, carefully parted her legs and lowered his head once more. Robyn sighed, anticipating more tongue action, and gasped in surprise when she felt a hot, almost stinging, sensation as he released the whisky he’d held in his mouth into her swollen cunt. Her eyes widened as he followed this with the tip of his tongue, giving her an exquisite massage, the sensations heightened by the alcohol.

  ‘Delicious,’ she murmured appreciatively, closing her eyes to savour it.

  When he’d finished, and she was close to the edge once more, he sipped more whisky, took the glass from her trembling hand and kissed her, letting her inhale the mixture of her own juices and the golden liquid. She felt intoxicated and her head was pounding. Gently, he pushed her back onto the floor and straddled her, his stiffening cock already sheathed in rubber. He slid easily into her gaping opening, and this time, having dealt with their previous urgent hunger, he took things slowly.

  Robyn tried to hold back as long as she could, loving the intensity of sensation experienced during the moments before climaxing, but she soon gave in, allowing her body to drown in ecstatic waves. Karl Heart Love flipped her on to her side and spooned her while gently fucking, his arms wrapped around, his hands caressing her large nipples, groaning softly as he came.

  ‘Satisfied?’ he whispered.

  Robyn smiled as she nestled against his warm, naked body. ‘Mmm. For now. Although another whisky nightcap might be in order.’

  ‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ he said. ‘I have another pair of glasses. Would you like me to put them on – for Round 3?’

  Robyn grinned. ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘I thought so.’ He squeezed her nipples. ‘Kinky, greedy bitch.’

  Also available from Xcite Books

  Confessions Volume 1

  Girl Fun 1

  Mistress of Torment

  Slave to the Machine

  Six of the Best Spanking Stories


  Lesbian Love

  Also Available

 

 

 


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