Country Pleasures (15 page)

‘What do you mean?' Janie had one ear cocked towards the kitchen while his words purred into the other ear.

‘I mean they'll be more interested in us once they see how well we're getting on without them.'

‘We should just use each other, you mean?'

His even features opened into a smile and, although Janie could see it was the smile of a man used to getting his own way, her own mouth started to curve up in comprehension. She liked the sound of her own voice, saying something so calculating, cynical, almost. She was learning to play this game. Learning either to pretend to be someone else, or learning to let loose the cooler Janie lurking just beneath the surface.

‘Honey –' he chuckled ‘– tell me, is this really such a chore?'

All the while his fingers had never stopped swiping and stroking across her hips and stomach, never going higher or lower. That entire area of her skin was alive and singing with his touch, and warm, as if it was accustomed to this attention. Her body relaxed, folding into itself, but her mind still kept darting through that kitchen door.

‘Don't look so anxious,' urged Jonathan. ‘Can't have that kind of tension when I'm around.'

No wonder he'd gotten inside Sally's knickers quicker than you could say ‘elastic'. He was like one of those horse whisperers. A woman whisperer. He got them where he wanted them. But she wouldn't wait around for the nasty side of him. She just needed him for this moment, to transport her away from the image
of Sally wriggling up to Jack, teasing or even mocking him into submission, seducing him so that he had no choice but to ram up inside her.

‘What are they doing in there?' asked Janie.

There was definitely something, a groan or a sigh, and they both heard Sally's high giggle – the one that signalled she was in for the kill.

‘Not making apple pie, that's for sure,' remarked Jonathan.

Janie frowned, turning her face this way and that, but Jonathan just kept on watching her, and surreptitiously pulled the silk garment up her body so that more and more of her became visible.

‘She'll have her tongue down his throat by now,' Jonathan crooned. ‘She's not always known for her subtlety.'

Janie's lips parted in dismay, but he prevented her from speaking by brushing his dry lips across her mouth; not exactly kissing her, but leaving his taste on her lips to silence her, and it worked. He had an expensive, sharp smell about him that spiked the air around them both. Janie closed her eyes, and tried to persuade herself that it was just the two of them on the sofa, just the two of them in the cottage.

‘He'll be making a feeble attempt to push her away, get back in here, but he'll be getting hard, despite his desire for you. She's very skilled at that.'

Jonathan dropped his hand from Janie's face and brought it to her hip, so that now he had both her hips cradled in his hands. Despite her jealousy Janie's own body couldn't help responding to the constant sweeping of his fingertips. That fidgety warmth that she had felt yesterday, listening to Sally's story, was back in earnest, the little muscles around her fanny tightening
involuntarily and a definite moisture slicking from inside her.

‘And she'll be unable to wait for long, once she's turned on. She'll be creaming herself by now, I expect, especially knowing that we're next door, that we could barge in at any moment. She'll be rubbing herself up against him. He may be resisting still, but it won't work. She'll see that he's a bit of a gentleman, a bit shy, not like me, and she'll make him touch her, feel her wetness through those French knickers, which, incidentally, I bought for her in Paris.'

‘What a naughty thought!' gasped Janie, biting her lip and shifting on the sofa without realising what she was doing. ‘Wearing a gift from you while she's making out with him.'

‘Honey, you're getting the idea. A quick learner.'

‘And this negligee is not mine. It's something she was given –' Janie couldn't resist adding her own little piece of spite ‘– by another man, last weekend.'

‘Really?' It was Jonathan's turn to be put out, but only briefly. He smiled again. ‘Better and better, though I can't imagine her wearing it. While you look as if you were born to drift about wearing white gossamer.'

Just then one of the kitchen chairs fell over with a crash. There was an exclamation from one of them, followed by the heavy double thump of bodies falling onto a wooden surface.

‘Didn't take them long, did it? She'll have just removed that lovely underwear. Perhaps she'll be fingering herself; men like to see that. She won't be able to wait, though, and nor will he, not once that cute bush of hers is on display. Any man with red blood in his veins would be unable to resist her powers of persuasion, and she's on a mission this morning.'

‘Don't tell me any more,' pleaded Janie. ‘Let's just show them, like you said.'

He lifted her body across his tweed lap, shifting himself so that she was straddling him with her back to the kitchen. He continued to run his hands up and down her sides, underneath the silk, and she held her breath, waiting for the moment when they would make contact with her tits. She could feel the acorn-hard nipples making points through the thin fabric, riding high and hard on her round, eager breasts, and now everything was level with his face. It was only a matter of time before he touched them. The sharp sensations already slicing through her were too strong to ignore. It was as though she was constantly on the boil, or at the very least simmering, like Sally had said. It was as if, just under the surface, the basic urges that had been awakened in her yesterday were waiting to be jump-started each time someone came near her who even looked at her in a certain way. Not just that, but she realised, after five minutes with this guy, that just by the way she dressed or moved, just allowing a tiny shift in her attitude, her body was bursting with more promise than she had ever dreamed of. She couldn't stop now, no matter who or how many friends or enemies might be rutting away in the kitchen.

She arched herself away from him, revelling in this new, constant sexiness that crawled all over her skin. She was learning to tease herself into the bargain. As his hands were busy under her legs, undoing his trousers, she brought her own hands up and started kneading her breasts through the slippery silk. She loved the feeling of fabric on skin, pushing her big mounds together so that their nipples stood out, then releasing them so that they bounced apart, and fondling them again. Jonathan's eyes were still on her
face, and that only excited her more. Her own hands on her breasts, touching them through the silk, was utterly delicious, and she wanted to make him touch her. Her breath came more quickly, and her hands worked faster and rougher on her breasts until she found her buttocks starting to gyrate on his knee. But although she was enjoying it, she forced herself to release them. She grabbed the back of the sofa, resting her forearms on either side of his shoulders, and pulled herself up so that she was raised a couple of inches above his groin. By kneeling up like this her tits were in front of his nose. Her pussy could wait. They were frozen in that position for a moment, challenging each other to move first, then, supporting herself on her knees so that her thighs started to shake with the effort, Janie hooked her fingers under the spindly straps of the negligee and flung her arms free so that the white silk spilled down her torso and settled around her waist.

‘He'll have his trousers round his ankles by now and she'll be totally naked and spread out on the table like a ploughman's lunch. He won't be able to help himself, he'll be pushing his fingers into her cunt while she wriggles about and traps him between those dancer's thighs of hers. She'll be glancing at the door, mark my words. She's just as anxious as you.'

‘I said, no more.'

At last Jonathan's eyes snapped obediently down to the glorious cleavage in front of him. His hands roved up and grabbed her bare flesh, and he pulled her body towards him so that slowly he could slide his face inside the warm cleavage. Janie held herself very still, once again holding the back of the sofa. She arched her bottom right away from his crotch so that she couldn't even feel what was there, although her pussy felt as if
it was being dragged towards a magnet, the tiny muscles around her cunt grasping at the anticipated pleasure like mini tentacles.

Then the foot of one of the kitchen table legs started squeaking. There was a pause, then the table leg started to shift, rhythmically, across its square patch of tiled floor.

‘She's pulling him into her, that greedy little pussy of hers, the golden curls parting to drag him in.'

Janie was split in two, one half of her poised over the promise of her own ecstasy in the shape of Sally's ex-lover, the other half desperate at the thought of Jack being goaded and pleasured out there in the kitchen. Sally didn't even know who he was. She didn't know that only a few hours earlier he had been inside Janie, shoving her across the hay bale with the force of his screwing just like he was shoving Sally across the kitchen table.

‘She's getting her evil way,' remarked Jonathan softly. ‘She'll be on her back on the kitchen table, she's always liked hard surfaces, and she'll have her legs wrapped round him like a limpet.'

Before the picture could lodge itself in Janie's brain, Jonathan licked at the heated flesh of her breasts. She threw her head back, and pushed herself harder against his face. His tongue flicked over one stiff nipple, then across to the other, darting like a snake's. Stabs of desire shot directly from her nipples to the opening of her pussy, tightening the furrow there as her knees weakened.

She pushed the back of his head towards her, forcing his mouth harder onto one aching nipple. His lips and teeth closed slowly round it, the pressure to bite increasing little by little. She fell against him and his teeth got a grip and pulled the nipple into his mouth.
At last, he was sucking, his tongue flicking and circling. Then he was moving to the other nipple, and Janie was sinking her weight slowly down, unable to support herself on her weakening legs. She could have let him go on like that, but other parts of her were burning for release now as well. She was still seething at the thought of Sally and Jack humping on the kitchen table, but was also burning with a kind of reckless greed. The urge to lower herself onto Jonathan was overpowering her.

There was a muffled male groan from the kitchen and the thumping and squeaking of the table legs accelerated.

‘She won't find in his trousers what you're about to find,' murmured Jonathan, emerging from between her tits and leaving them singing for more. His smooth blond hair fell over his forehead and messed up his groomed appearance. It made him look far more attractive, and made Janie feel far more powerful. She didn't want to speak, though she didn't mind listening to his insidious commentary. She just smiled, and finally lowered herself down onto him. She rested there, feeling the long, thick shape of his cock running straight across his lap, dividing her pussy-lips. She felt a manic grin spread across her face, and bit her lips so as not to squeal with alarm. It was like sitting on one of her logs.

‘Sally told me you were well hung,' gasped Janie, drawing her hips back to find the end of his cock, and sliding back along it to land against his groin. ‘But I just thought she was bragging. I've never
seen
–'

‘And you never will, honey, believe me. Take it, feel it, feel what she's missing right now.'

Janie reached down between her legs and took hold of his dick. It was worthy of legend. The smooth, taut
surface was already damp from where she had been sitting on it, and that sent stronger thrills of excitement through her. She took it in both hands, hitched herself back on his thighs for a moment to lift it and stare at its incredible, swollen length. Though engorged with blood, it looked unusually colourless. As she held it and looked at it, and ran her hands along the shaft, it leaped up at her, the bulbous end already winking with a droplet of pre-come. It was as if someone was already sluicing her through with hot juices.

‘No need to be so gentle with it,' goaded Jonathan. ‘Take it, princess, it's all yours.'

Janie raised herself up on quivering thighs and placed his rounded tip against her pussy. Instantly it made contact with the burning nub of her clitoris and it was Janie's turn to groan out loud. The very sound of her own uncontrolled voice sounded filthy in her ears, and she realised that Sally and Jack could probably hear it through the ajar kitchen door, but there was nothing she could do to stop it, and no way that she wanted to.

‘Listen to this, guys,' she hissed, edging Jonathan's cock inside her and letting her pussy-lips nibble their way down its length. She paused every so often to adjust her knees and to luxuriate in the huge, animal mass that filled her. She lowered herself still further, wondered how much room there was, and felt herself expanding to accommodate him; felt herself impaled on a great rod. It felt almost as if she could lift her legs away and balance herself, cunt on cock, spin round on it even. It was quite out of this world and accentuated by her sitting above him. He lay there, hands loosely on her hips again, her tits bouncing and brushing against his face as he watched her.

‘So easy,' he murmured, tightening his grip on her
hips as she finally reached the base of his cock and they both waited for the inexorable movement to begin. ‘You've made this so easy for me.'

Just then Sally called out in a stream of gibberish, and the two bodies in the kitchen crashed down once, twice, three times on the surface of the table before she cried out in a long, low howl, which gradually whimpered into silence.

Janie waited, put off her stroke for a moment, but Jonathan's cock seemed to continue swelling inside her and she had no choice but to move, to start easing herself up and down the long shaft. Once she had started she couldn't stop because, as she raised herself off it, every inch of it rubbed against every screaming inch of her, so she could only go so far before slamming back down on him, groin on groin. When she did that she could feel the end of his knob stretching her deep inside, testing her to the limits, teaching her, for heaven's sake, what she was capable of taking.