The Bunk Up (The Village People Book 1) (7 page)

“Yes. It’s pretty modern, considering.”

“Okay, I’m going to jump in then.”

“I thought you wanted to ask me twenty questions.”

“It can wait. It’s not like it’s me looking for a place to stay, is it?”

“Sure you don’t want a bath? I could arrange an accidental drowning then.”

“God you’re so funny. Sure you don’t want to change careers and be a comedian?”

“No. I’ll leave that to you and the idea that you think you’re in charge here.”

“I have permission to be here. You don’t. End of. Anyway, change of subject before I shower. Who have you worked with acting-wise? I want to daydream about them in the shower.”

“Erm.”

His chin is tense. It’s like in cartoons when the character’s mouth is stuck together with glue and they’re trying to speak. He doesn’t want to tell me but it’s going to come out anyway because he’s stubborn and he’s going to brazen it out.

“I’ve done a sofa advert,” he states, sitting up straight, shoulders back with pride.

“So your acting companions would be cushions?”

“Fuck you. My break will come and then you can stick a draft excluder up your arse.”

“So I’m here thinking you’ve worked with the Hemsworths, but the only hems you’ve acted with are the ones on the sofas.”

“Get your shower before you regret being near me.”

“What are you going to do, big boy?”

He leans over me, grabs my hand and places it on his cock. Fucking holy mother of God, what is down his pants, a vacuum extension?

“I am a big boy. Don’t you forget it,” he growls in my ear.

I smack him one last time in the head. I’ll not do it again just in case I do cause some damage.

“Motherfucker.”

While he clutches his crown I escape to the bathroom.

Frazer is right. Although the bathroom suite is primrose, the shower isn’t a bad strength, even though it must be older than I am. Returning to the bedroom, I take out the travel bag of toiletries I bought, making a note to myself that I must go back to the village centre later for some supplies, especially some food. I place my shampoo, conditioner, shower gel and sponge on the bath side then strip my clothes off, throwing them away from the bath so they don’t get damp. I step into the bath, pulling the shower curtain past me for privacy. There isn’t a lock on the door and although I doubt Frazer will come in, I’d rather err on the side of caution.

The shower instantly takes the tension out of my shoulders, the jets giving me a mini massage. I stay there for a good ten minutes before I begin soaping up. My thoughts return to the man downstairs. Such a juxtaposition. One minute I feel like jumping his bones, the next sending a few rounds of bullets into him. And his cock. Oh my God, to have a go at that. I think about what the girls in the pub said and I wonder what the blokes in the village are like. No-one knows me here so maybe I could gain a bit of experience and return to Chesterfield a stronger and more confident woman.

I jump as a knock sounds on the door.

“What?”

“I’m bursting for a piss and the only toilet’s in here.”

“Can’t you go in the garden?”

“I’ve got standards; I like to piss in a bathroom.”

“God, go on then.”

I hear the door open, followed by the sounds of Frazer taking a massive pee. Then the door shuts. Thank God he wasn’t desperate for a crap. I hear movement in the bedroom. Good he’s getting ready for work.

After another few minutes I reluctantly turn the shower off and pull back the shower curtain. My eyes roam the floor.

Where are my clothes?

Where are the towels?

“Frazer!” I boom.

The door opens slightly. “What’s the problem, Daise?”

“Don’t you
Daise
me. We are not friends. Only friends get to call me Daise. Where are my fucking clothes - and can you pass me a towel?”

“Well, I could.”

“What are you up to?” I am so tempted to slam the door right now; it would hit him in that beautifully, sculptured looking nose. However, as he has me at a disadvantage I’d better play nice.

“Sign this and I’ll return your belongings.” He shoves a piece of paper and a pen through the gap.

I read the paper.

I hereby give permission for Frazer McNeil to share Haversham Cottage with me for the remainder of our stay, including sharing of the double bed on an alternate night basis.

I throw it back at him. “Fuck off. I’ll come and get some other clothes. I don’t care if you see me stark naked. Have a free boner on me.”

“Okay then,” he replies, and moves away from the door.
Bastard.

Holding my head up high and placing one arm across my breasts and the other in front of my foo, I walk in front of him into the bedroom. I’m aware he can see my backside, but so what? He can kiss my arse. I ignore the little betraying pulse between my legs that comes with this thought. I have to drop the arm across my breasts to open the wardrobe door but he can’t see the front of me so it’s no bother. The problem is that I totally forget that fact when I swing around in anger. “Where are my clothes?”

“Jesus Christ. Wow, woman. If I had that body I’d never cover it up.”

I look down and scream again.

“It’s a good job we’re up this way alone or I’d have the police coming round with those noises you’re emitting.”

“I’m naked!” I squeal.

“Well, you saw my junk yesterday. Now we can call it even.”

“It’s not even. You’re having a really big stare and I only got a quick peek.”

“Do you want a longer peek then?”

“Yes.”

“Pardon?”

“Yes. I want a longer look. It’s big and I’ve only seen my ex’s, which I believe is a small sausage, so show me your dick.”

“No. You weirdo perve.”

“Show me your dick and I’ll sign the piece of paper.”

He coughs. “Seriously? I expose myself and you’ll sign?”

“Yes.”

“How do I know you’ll do it?”

“You have my clothes, arse-wipe.”

“Oh yeah. Okay then. Here goes.”

He pulls down his joggers. Frazer is pant-less and his dick hangs there. It’s plump, and well… saggy. Not what I expected at all. It looks about the same size as Marcus’. Talk about disappointed.

He moves towards me.

“Back away, soldier. What are you playing at?”

“You want a good look at my dick, don’t you? You can’t see it very well from over there.”

I realise that this situation is entirely inappropriate but find I don’t care.

“What happens in Beydon stays in Beydon,” I say.

He winks at me. “Fine with me. Listen. This is going to sound weird, but can I touch your boob just a little bit?”

“No you fucking can’t, you sick bastard.”

He puffs out his lips. “Well, I thought you wanted to study a proper dick.”

“I’ve seen it. It wasn’t anything amazing.”

“It’s not hard.”

“Oh.” I look again. “Well what difference does that make? My ex-boyfriend’s was the same dead or alive.”

“If you let me touch your boob, you’ll find out. Tell you what, I’ll shut my eyes and imagine it’s someone else’s boob.”

My inquisitiveness wins out over common sense. I may never see a proper dick again.

“Okay.”

“You’ll have to guide my hand.”

He closes his eyes and holds out his hand. I move it onto my breast. His large hand cups my tit and moves around it, pinching my nipple. My nipple pebbles and my mouth goes dry. That’s because all the liquid in me has gone to my still traitorous foo. I watch in fascination as Frazer holds his dick in his other hand and begins to pump it. The fucking thing grows and becomes the monster penis I’d observed before. I wasn’t wrong. There must be nine inches of erect penis here and the girth is, well, I’m not sure how it would go in, but then babies come out, so...

I realise Frazer has opened his eyes and is watching me observe his dick.

He lets go of my breast and lets his hand drop from his dick.

“Well, that’s the peep show over,” he croaks out. He has a couple of beads of sweat on his face and his breathing is rapid.

“I want to touch it.”

His eyes widen.

Fuck. Did I say that out loud?

“I’m so sorry Frazer. You must think I’m a sex-crazed maniac.” I sigh. “I’m not. I’m just the opposite.”

“You can if you want but then you’ll have to excuse me to go to the loo and know I’m going to think about your body as I beat off. I’ve gone past the point of no return here.”

New personality Daisy gets brave. “I’ll do it. I’ll finish you off.”

“What the hell? Is this really happening?” Frazer says, then mumbles something about hallucinogenic pie and beer which makes no sense whatsoever.

I fix my hand around his dick. I’m no stranger to a hand job after eight years with Marcus, but this one takes more handling. It’s just so, well, sturdy. What I’m not expecting is that after a few minutes he’s still not come. What’s that all about? With Marcus, ninety seconds tops and he was done and halfway asleep.

“Am I not doing it right?” I ask him.

“Are you fucking kidding? It’s the best hand job I’ve ever had. Your hands are the perfect size and your stroke is exemplary.”

“But you haven’t come yet.”

His forehead creases. “No. Are you getting bored?”

“No. It’s just my ex would have finished by now.”

“Wimp. I don’t know why you split up but it sounds like you’re better off.”

“He cheated on me.”

Frazer stops me with his hand and looks at me, tilting my chin up with his finger. “Your ex cheated on you?”

“Yes.”

“How many years had you been together?”

“Eight.”

“How many lovers before him?”

“None.”

“Let me guess this right. The only sex you’ve had is with a small-dicked cheating cunt?”

I sigh. “Yes that’s about it.”

“God, I hope I don’t regret this.” Frazer picks me up and throws me on the bed.

“What are you doing?” I squeal as I bounce on the bed and my tits fling up and down, almost giving me a black eye.

“I want to fuck you, Daisy. What do you say to that? Just say no and I’m out of here and we’ll pretend none of this ever happened.”

“Yes,” I say, the single word popping into my head without argument or debate.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I want you to fuck me. I want to know what it’s supposed to be like. That’s if you know what you’re doing. I mean, it’s not like I have any way of measuring whether or not you’re a good fuck.”

Frazer slides down the bed and pulls my legs apart and then proceeds to do the thing that I’ve read in magazines, but that Marcus refused to do because he didn’t like staring at my foo. He licks my clit. Electricity and pleasure shoot up my spine and I have to suck in a breath to stop myself from purring… I might scare him off if I start to meow like some horny bloody kitty.

My hips rise up off the bed. “Holy fuckety fuck. I rather like that!”

Frazer looks at me from between my legs, a smug grin on his face. “I’ve barely started. Hang in there, Daise.”

I let the use of my nickname go. It’s the least I can do to count him as a friend when he’s being so nice to my vagina.

I lay back, my head on the pillow, which it has to be said, is almost as rock hard as Frazer is. Another item to add to the shopping list.

Frazer grabs the pillow from his side of the bed.
His side? What the hell am I saying?
He proceeds to put it under my hips then his tongue returns to pretending my foo is a melting ice-cream. I close my eyes and feel the sensations of his tongue. He bites on my clit slightly, making me squirm with pleasure. I nearly lose my mind when his tongue enters me, fucking me. I feel the pressure building and know I’m close, and somehow he knows because he proceeds to change to a fast flick of his tongue. I grab the back of his head and pull him closer to me as I explode all over his mouth.

I lean back against the bed as tiny aftershocks flitter in my, dare I call it… pussy? Yes, my foo has earned itself a new name after that most tremendous of orgasms. It’s definitely a pussy and it’s demanding more attention. I needn’t have worried as Frazer opens a drawer, quickly puts on a condom and then leans over me. Then he guides his dick inside me.

“God, you’re tight.”

“Well, I only had a pencil dick before so it’s not stretched,” I complain.

He places a finger over my mouth. “It’s a good thing. Means my cock gets plenty of friction.”

“Oh.”

As Frazer closes his eyes and concentrates on pumping in and out of me, I want to take in my surroundings in case this never happens again. For a start off his arms that are pinned at either side of me are so corded and the muscles are standing out. Now I know what my colleagues were on about when they talked about arm porn. Then I try and lift up my head a little and lean to the left to watch him pumping in and out. The angle is awkward so I shuffle to the left a bit and peer down, my neck stretching as I strain to see.