She’s in a cab, crawling through the London streets during a tube strike. It’s hot and the air con is on, she’s now a little too cold. He’s messaging her the whole time, saying he’s excited to finally meet her.
The journey is talking too long, the driver keeps stopping and starting. As a result she feels sick. Not with nerves, but the sudden feeling that this was a bad idea. What if he’s an idiot?
Two days earlier, she’s in a bar after work. Alcohol is needed and it’s a beautiful day. She’s with a colleague, chewing the fat, gossiping and putting the day to bed.
A brood of suits walk past with a swagger and amongst them a familiar face. Although she never met him. They continue around the corner. She goes to the loo, checks her makeup. All good. Then dashes out, after him, trying to find where they went. No sign.
She returns to her colleague and her wine. ” I don’t believe it. A guy I chatted to for months but never met. Here of all places!” She fumbles for her phone and messages him via Facebook. He denies being there. More wine is consumed.
She steps out of the cab, her heart in her mouth, still feeling queasy from the drive. He’s outside his flat calling her name. He’s kissed her before she’s even through the door. She asks for water, and sits down. “You look stunning” he beams and hungrily kisses her again. She gazes around the room – it’s not what she expected. There are family photos, cards from his 21st birthday, clothes drying.
” I promise I was going to come to yours – look I even packed a bag” he shows her his shirt neatly folded in a carrier. Despite the ridiculous age gap, she feels immediately at ease with him. And incredibly turned on.
“Are you going to give me the guided tour?” She offers.
“you first” he points
He follows her upstairs, playfully slapping her ass.
He points out his brothers and fathers room – they live here together but are often out of town.
“Look what you’ve done to me” he moans, pulling the bulge in his pants.
” I haven’t done anything” she replies.
Home a little later, she gets another message from him.
” I lied. It was me in the bar. I didn’t see you. Thanks for not approaching me. What’s your number?”
She asks how old he is now.
She is not yet 38, but often passes for 30. Slightly better than when they first started chatting two years ago.
In his room, they both kneel on the bed. He feels up her skirt, nudges her knickers to one side and fingers her roughly.
“gosh, you’re soaking wet” he exclaims. She rides his fingers and moans. “Shhhh” he urges. She slips off him and slides down his boxers. His cock is big, uncut and already hard. She takes him in her mouth, it’s a pleasure to suck him. Keeping eye contact she gives him the special treatment, savouring the length and girth.
“Oh god you really know how to suck a cock don’t you” he says, his arms stretched behind his head, occasionally coming back to hold his hips and thrust into her mouth a little.
She can no longer wait to feel him inside her. The condom is fumbled for, and applied with care. She wants to mount him but he wants to be in control. He enters her, and it is delicious, a perfect fucking fit.