Spirit (8 page)

Matt even rustles up a delicious Christmas lunch, though not the traditional turkey as neither of us cares for it. Instead, he drags on a pair of tattered old jeans and gets a large fillet of halibut from the fridge. He poaches it in milk, then makes a mustard sauce to pour over it. Fudge aside, I’m no sort of a cook myself, so I watch in rapt admiration as he assembles all the ingredients without so much as a sniff at a recipe book then stirs, blends, boils it all into submission. The final touch is some spinach, a vegetable I have always despised or so I thought. Matt drops it into boiling water for a few seconds then piles the wilted leaves onto our plates. The halibut goes on top, then the sauce. He hands me a plate and a fork, and I curl up on one end of the sofa with my meal. Matt takes up his position at the other end and we watch the Christmas blockbuster on television as we eat.

“Do you want to go out later?” Matt calls out to me as I carry our empty plates over to the sink. The washing up will have to wait though.

“Where? Everything’s closed.”

“We could probably find somewhere in town.”

“Well I couldn’t eat anything else, and we have plenty of booze here.” Matt’s not a big drinker I’ve noticed, but that doesn’t stop him from having a well filled wine rack and a drinks fridge full of Budweiser.

“Fair enough. Reckon I’ll have to settle for fucking you again then.”

“Mmm, probably. Or I could fuck you.”

“Interesting. What do you have in mind?”

I’m wearing one of his T-shirts, as usual, and nothing else. I drag it off and toss it onto the floor as I prowl back across the room. Matt doesn’t move. He waits for me to reach him then lies back, his legs stretched out in front of the settee.

“Go on then, do your worst, Miss Harte.”

I kneel between his feet and reach for the zip on his jeans. He never bothered to fasten the button. I unzip him and spread the fabric to reveal his already solid cock.

“Lift up.” I tap his hip indicating he should raise his bum and let me pull his jeans down. At first he doesn’t oblige so I glance up at him to catch a quirk of his eyebrow. If pushed I would have to describe it as grumpy. But even so, he does as I ask.

I peel his jeans down his legs and shove them behind me on the floor. Then I wrap my fingers around his stiff cock and stroke it from base to tip.

Matt says nothing, but his head rolls back to rest on the leather behind him. His eyes are closed. I shuffle a little closer and use my other hand to cup his balls, surprising myself at the weight of them. I roll them in my palm, my fingers caressing the skin covering them, I love the roughness of the texture, and the way his nuts actually move in my hand.

“I like your dick.”

“Thank God for that. Beth, I…” Whatever he might have intended to say is choked off as I lean in to take the head of his oh-so-likable dick in my mouth. I use both hands and my mouth to caress him. This is a first for me so I listen for any tell-tale sounds to provide feedback on how I’m doing. Matt is quite vocal.

“Shit, girl, that’s fucking wonderful.”

Ah, right.
I scrape my teeth around the smooth head of his cock, enjoying the salty tang of the fluid weeping from the slit at the end. At the same time I squeeze his balls, lifting and rolling them in my hand.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Sounds like another winner
. I pump my hand up and down the thick shaft, relishing the wetness now coating it, the combined effect of my saliva and his own lubrication. My movements are slick and fast, and the sharp thrusting of his hips indicates that my efforts are appreciated. I pause briefly to reposition myself on the sofa, kneeling next to him. At this angle I can reach better to massage his cock as well as using my lips and tongue to caress the head. I offer him a quick, enthusiastic smile, then bend to my task.

Just a few moments later Matt’s hand descends onto my shoulder. I halt, turning my head to look up at him.

“Enough. Now you fuck me.”

I pop his cock out of my mouth and kneel up. “Anything you say, oh lord and master.”

He frowns at me, his mouth twisting into a wry smile.

“Not yet, baby, but we’re working on it. Now put this on and get busy.”

He hands me a condom, still in the foil. I experience a moment’s panic. Whilst I appreciate his sense of responsibility, this is a first for me. I haven’t actually put a condom on before. Do they print instructions on the side? I peer hopefully at the little packet.

“Take it out of the wrapper, pinch the end between your finger and thumb, and roll it on. I’ll help if you get stuck.”

Under Matt’s expert tutelage I manage to get the condom suitably positioned. Pleased with myself I scramble across and straddle his hips, conscious of my own drooling pussy waiting to receive him. This is another first as far as I’m concerned so I’m not entirely sure how it will go, though the mechanics of the thing seem clear enough. I reach for his sheathed cock between my legs and position it at my entrance, then lower my body onto his. My movements are slow, somewhat cautious, and I daresay Matt could have hastened me along by thrusting upwards. He doesn’t do that though, allowing me to complete the movement until he is fully embedded inside me. I feel full, stretched, a little awed, and very much in control.

“Squeeze as you lift up, and relax as you go down. Come on girl, look lively.”

Matt is grinning at me as he issues his commands, but I appreciate his advice. I try few practice strokes before I find my rhythm, and as I settle into my tempo Matt joins in, thrusting against me as I move. The combined effect is glorious, and I throw my head back to better savour the pleasure coursing through me. Every rub of sensation, every ecstatic shiver, every nerve-tingling spasm in my pussy. From his guttural oaths and groans I know Matt is loving this too, and this is an even bigger turn on, to know he is as affected as I am.

He reaches for my breast and caresses the lower curve before rolling my swollen nipple between his finger and thumb. I arch my back, a silent plea for more. He lifts his shoulders from the sofa to fasten his lips around my other nub and sucks on it as he continues to squeeze and tug on its twin. The combined stimulation sends darts of electricity straight to my core and I know it won’t be long before I come again. I try to dampen the sensation, determined not to succumb until I complete my task. It’s futile. I know it. Matt certainly knows it as he intensifies the pressure on my nipples and uses his free hand to slide between our bodies and circle my clit.

“Let it go, sweetheart. Let me finish this.”

“I want… I—oh.” He rubs my clit mercilessly, shattering my good intentions in a moment. My orgasm ripples through my body as I convulse around his cock. I slump forward, clutching at his shoulders for balance but finding none. It is Matt’s arms around me that prevent me toppling from the sofa as my muscles abandon any pretence of being under my control.

“Shit, baby, that’s so good. Fucking hot, so fucking…” Matt murmurs in my ear, his tone lowering to a growl as his own release seizes him. He thrusts up hard, bracing my boneless form to gain maximum impact as his cock lurches forward. The solid head of his cock is nudging my cervix, his erection filling me totally as he stiffens. The swill of semen is liquid heat as it spurts to fill the condom. My inner muscles tighten in response, my entire body shaking with the intensity of sensation as I spin into some weird half-life before drifting back into the here and now.

Matt is still holding me, his breath warm against my cheek. I lay my face on his chest and can feel his heart thumping inside, the rate fast but slowing as he relaxes. For several moments neither of us speaks.

“Did you like being on top?”

“Mmm, fabulous. Did I do okay?”

“Passable I suppose.” He kisses the top of my head and pats my bum, the gestures intended to show he’s teasing me.

I snuggle against him, loving the relaxed post-sex banter which seems to flow so naturally between us. “You can lie back and think of the Empire then in future, and I’ll do the hard work.”

“Is this another dig at my age?”

“Not at all. I just discovered a talent I didn’t know I had and I want to practice it.”

“So, I’m to be your guinea pig then?”

“Yes, if you like.”

“I suppose I could live with that. For the sake of furthering your education. Practice makes perfect, and all that.”

“I’m guessing you’ve had a lot of practice?”
Oh Christ, where did that come from? I never meant to say that.

“Beth?”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” I bury my face against his chest, conscious that he hasn’t even slid his cock from my pussy yet and already I’m allowing my jealousy to surface. What’s wrong with me? When will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?

Matt lifts me from him, but doesn’t seem rattled by my comment. Instead he settles me beside him while he disposes of the condom. I huddle there, unable to raise my head and look at him, my confident, happy mood of just moments earlier in tatters.

“Beth, are you crying?”

I nod, but make no attempt to stem the tears coursing down my cheeks.

“Why?”

“Because I said something stupid. I always do that. Mess things up by being an idiot.”

“We’re not messed up. And you’re right, I have had a lot of practice. Which is good, surely, since you haven’t. Yet.”

“I didn’t mean to have a go at you.”

“I know. Forget it.”

“You’re not angry?”

“No. And Beth, if ever I am angry with you, you won’t need to ask. I don’t play games, I’ll tell you it like it is.”

I ponder that for a few moments as I struggle to regain control of my features. When my gulping sobs have subsided a little I venture a peep up at him.

“Are you really not mad at me?”

“Do I look to be?”

I shake my head.

Matt smiles, his expression warm, gentle, and above all affectionate. He beckons me forward. “Come here, Beth. You look like you need a cuddle, and I’m fucking sure I do.”

I require no further encouragement, and scramble into his lap. His arms wrap around me, securing me tight against him, and I am content in a way I can hardly recall ever feeling before. It’s not just on the surface, but bone-deep. Solid, reliable, safe.

The sharp trill of Matt’s phone interrupts our late breakfast the morning of New Year’s Eve. He mutters something unintelligible as he leans out of bed and gropes around on the carpet to find it. Mission accomplished he leans back against the headboard as he takes the call.

“Hi Mick, how’s things?” Matt winks at me as I stuff another mouthful of soft, fluffy croissant between my lips, then furrows his brow as another fall of crumbs flutters onto the duvet. No doubt he’ll make me change the bedding later but I don’t mind that. It’s worth it. The messy business is so much fun. And I do not mean just croissants.

“Yeah, I’m here all day. Bring it round when you like.”

I glance up, a little surprised. Are we to have a visitor then? This Mick?

Matt smiles as he continues his conversation. “Not a problem, I knew you were good for it. I just hope you’re taking good care of my baby.”

I finish my breakfast, somewhat puzzled.

Matt chuckles into the phone. “Yeah, she was always temperamental. You need to cultivate the touch, and she’ll purr for you.” A pause, then, “Yeah, right. Okay, see you later. Bye.”

He ends the call, and the phone beeps again, the sound shrill and insistent.

“Shit, battery’s almost flat. My charger’s in the kitchen. Won’t be a sec.” He hops out of bed and pads over to the door, intent on plugging in his failing phone. I admire the view of his taut backside as he saunters naked across the room. Matt is unconcerned about nudity, and my own inhibitions have become a lot less apparent over the last few days. I brush the remaining flakes of pastry from my breasts and wriggle back down under the duvet to wait for him.

Matt returns a couple of minutes later with coffee. He hands me a mug then gets back into bed beside me.

“Is someone coming round? Should we be getting dressed?”

“Mick. Mick Rosen. Yes, he owes me some money and he rang to say he’d drop it off later. There’s no hurry, he’ll be a while yet.” He dumps his mug on the bedside table and props himself over me, leaning on one elbow. “So, how shall we amuse ourselves for the next hour or so? Any ideas?”

I make a show of considering hard, then offer him a bright smile. “Scrabble. We could play Scrabble. Or perhaps Cluedo.”

He answers me with a wicked grin. “Cluedo I think. So where was the crime committed? In the bedroom, with a rope. Or perhaps in the hallway with a candlestick. Are you into bondage or wax play at all, Beth?”

“I…what?”

“Sorry, bad joke. Maybe a game of hide and seek then? I’d be particularly keen to find what it is you’re hiding under here.” He whips the duvet back and I squeal. He pounces, and in seconds I’m pinned under him, my thighs spread wide as he holds me still for the few moments it takes to grab a condom and sheath himself.

He enters me without further preamble. I sigh and arch up towards him, loving the sensation of fullness as he drives his cock deep, then holds the position, the head of his dick rammed up hard against my cervix. I reach for him, linking my fingers at the back of his neck.

“Matt, that feels so good, so… oh.”

I chew on my lower lip as he withdraws and enters me again, but only a couple of inches this time, just the head and part of his shaft. He sets up a fast rhythm, teasing me as I instinctively seek greater penetration, more depth. He withholds his length, his leer one of a man who knows what he is about.

“Please, Matt. More, I need all of it.”

“Greedy girl. You need to be patient, to wait until it’s your turn. You’ve already come twice this morning.”

“So have you. I… aagh”

He drives his cock forward, hard and deep, stretching me. I squeeze around him, wriggling my hips to increase the friction.

“So eager. I like that about you Beth. Would you like me to fuck you harder perhaps?”

“Yes, yes,
yes
!”

“Did I hear a ‘please’ there?”