How To Treat A Lady

“Punch it!” Nayana shouted at the helmeted driver as she tightened her fingers around the handgrip of the machinegun. The scraped-up jeep bounced across the rubble when the driver gunned the engine. Nayana turned her attention to the inhuman horde in their wake.
Pulling the trigger, she let bursts of hot lead dance across the half decayed undead, but no matter how many she felled more surged in to take their place. Suddenly there was a massive jolt, and she screamed as the jeep tumbled into a great ditch to land on the rollbars.
Shaking her head to clear her vision, Nayana reached out to pull her self from the wreckage only to find that her legs were entangled in something. She kicked to free herself, but to no avail.
Then the first zombie peeked over the rim of the ditch, and moaned loudly with hunger. Nayana’s stomach flipped over. Frantically she pulled out her sidearm and shot off a couple of rounds at the ghoul, blowing its head off more by luck than skill. Gore splattered the surrounding wreckage and the once walking corpse tumbled back, its limbs twitching.
Dozens of ragged, rotting throats echoed the hungry groan, and within moments the limping footfall of the undead was heard. Nayana redoubled her efforts to free her legs from whatever was holding them, fighting down a wave of panic.
Something held her legs very firmly, and she kicked to free them. Reaching down, she pulled at the debris that covered her, very clearly aware of the approaching ghouls. Suddenly the restriction around her legs tightened. Nayana felt something squirm against her, and she looked down to see a pair of rotting hands reaching out from the rubble to paw mindlessly across her thighs. She screamed…
…and sat up in her bed, choking back a cry of fear and soaked with sweat.
Almost immediately a wave of headache and nausea washed over her, and she flopped back down on her back with a groan.
‘Oh god, I’ll never play Resident Evil ever again… at least not while I’m drunk’, she thought to herself, trying to force her thoughts through the haze of agony in her head. ‘And why didn’t I at least drink some water before falling asleep? Oh right, because I was drunk. Figures.’
Only now did she realise that her legs were entangled in her dingy, sweat-soaked sheets. Muttering, she extricated herself from the mess and staggered towards the bathroom. As she passed the kitchen a shaft of sunlight penetrated the dirty windows and struck her squarely in the face, making her groan with pain when the harsh light grated on her eyes.
She finished her business in the bathroom without throwing up, and on the way back to her bed she braved the kitchen to fill an empty soda bottle with water, fumbling blindly at the window until she got the blinds down. Somewhere she managed to find some painkillers, and washed them down with some of the water before collapsing back onto her bed again.
Sipping her water while slowly regaining a semblance of higher brain function, Nayana began taking stock of her situation and penetrating the haze that separated her from the previous night.
She was lying on her bed feeling clammy and dirty, wearing only a pair of black satin panties and a single black stay-up. The other one was hopefully on her floor somewhere. From her visit to the bathroom she vaguely recalled a mirror image of her once artfully styled hair, now looking like a haystack that had been in a plane crash. Nayana sighed.
She scooted up a bit, gathering her pillows until she could half-sit in the bed. She swigged from her water bottle, spilling a few drops down her chin, and she lazily watched them trickle down her chest. One of them ended up hanging from her nipple, and she watched the dark brown flesh harden from the cold water before she wiped her hand across her chest, smearing the water streaks.
Slowly the fog lifted, and she started to remember the previous evening. There was a party at wassisname, Charles’ place. Eloise had been a complete twat as usual, making snide comments about everyone. Nayana hated when she did that, but never dared say anything for fear of getting a dose of Eloise’s barbed tongue herself.
Some guy had actually answered back with a barb of his own, and Nayana chuckled when she remembered how nettled the other woman had been by this. She’d gone on about it at some length, actually. Nayana figured it was because she wasn’t used to people who gave as good as they got.
She drank some more water, and then pulled off her stay-up stocking since it was beginning to itch. She tossed it on the floor and fell back onto her pillows. She was feeling clammy all over, but didn’t quite have the energy for a shower just yet. Her stomach growled, but the very thought of food made her queasy despite her hunger.
Nayana rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers, hoping that the headache would go away. That guy from the party, he’d turned up again, hadn’t he? Right, he’d been at the club. Eloise had been livid. She’d gotten into her head, helped on by a few White Russians, to go “set him straight”, and none of the girls could talk her out of it. When she finally stalked off to find him, Nayana and another girl, Nathalie, had followed behind to try to avert any major disasters. They were all quite drunk by that time.
She didn’t quite recall how it had gone, but she did remember that the guy had more or less stomped Eloise’s attempted vindication flat, while managing to flirt with Nayana and even win Nathalie over. She chuckled at this, even as she dreaded what Eloise might say the next time they met. Now, the guy…
His name was… Steve, or something? He’d been really hot. Or at least that’s how Nayana remembered him through the fine mist of José Cuervo that clouded her memory. He’d been wearing black trousers with lots of buckles and zippers, and a black sleeveless top with some sort of dark red print. He’d had his hair dyed blue-black and cropped short aside from a fringe that fell across one eye. In a brief flash Nayana remembered wanting to run her hands across the stubbly back of his head, but not daring to. She smiled and wet her lips with her tongue.
They had been sitting in the lounge, and… he had held her hand. How did that happen? She had even had her legs on his lap. Had they kissed? No… she touched her lips with her fingers. No, they hadn’t kissed, even though she had wanted to. If she had, maybe she wouldn’t have woken up in her own bed with a hangover. Nayana sighed and swigged some more water.
Thinking back, Nayana made herself remember the feeling of his hands on her legs, how warm they had been and how he had massaged her calves absentmindedly with gentle fingers. She imagined the hands sliding higher, caressing the back of her knees. Higher still, sliding up the inside of her thighs… She squirmed as a bit of arousal crept through her skin to land softly between her legs. Closing her eyes, she raised a hand to stroke one of her slowly hardening nipples.
Sipping more water, she used her free hand to caress both breasts while rubbing her thighs together, causing a sweet pressure on certain tender parts. She bit her lip, imagining how it would feel to kiss “Steve”, to have his hands all over her body. Fumbling slightly, she put the bottle of water on the nightstand and then started massaging her breasts with both hands.
Nayana was a curvy young woman, not overweight in any way but endowed with somewhat generous forms. She couldn’t cover her breasts with her hands, but she enjoyed playing with them even more for it. At this point she was rubbing them firmly and tweaking her nipples while imagining that her hands belonged to someone else.
The headache wasn’t quite gone, but her arousal helped her ignore it. One hand slipped down her soft abdomen, and she spread her legs to let it land on her pubic mound. She started rubbing herself on the outside of her panties, pretending that it was “Steve” giving her pleasure. A soft ‘Mmm’ escaped her lips.
She kept frigging herself, and soon the other hand joined the first. She imagined how “Steve” crushed her into the mattress with his body, grinding his pelvis into hers. In her mind he then kissed his way down her chest and her stomach, working his way to her sweetly burning fold. Moaning quietly, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties to slip them off…
…when Dahler Mendhi started singing “Tunak Tunak Tun” from somewhere on the floor, telling her that her mother was phoning. Quickly losing her mood, Nayana cursed loudly and rolled over to get the phone.
“Hello, mum? Yeah… no, I was just going to get some bre… uh, lunch. Yeah, I’m… doing laundry, yeah.” She rubbed her face dejectedly, realising too late that she had forgotten to remove her makeup from last night and that it was now smeared all over her face and fingers. Listening to her mother nattering about her younger sister Sayali’s upcoming wedding, she dragged herself out into the kitchen to finally get something to eat.
Later, after finally having been released from her mother’s litany of petty woes, and after managing to keep down her breakfast, Nayana sat nursing her tea when a bright voice trilled from her phone:
“You’ve got spam!”
This was the signal that she’d received an email, and she wondered absentmindedly who it might be. Then she remembered who she had last given her gmail address to, and her heart started hammering. She quickly groped for the phone.
– – – – – – –
Miss Nayana.
As you may recall, we met yesterday at the Belltower.
I would like to ask you to grant me the pleasure of having you for tea tomorrow afternoon (sunday).
– – – – – – –
Nayana blinked at the brief message. Tea? Tomorrow? At first she panicked and almost erased the mail, but caught herself in time. This was the guy she’d been fantasising about this morning. And he wanted to meet her? Thoughts raced through her head. Finally she replied:
– – – – – – –
Hello Stephen
I’d love to come for tea tomorrow. When did you have in mind? And yes, I remember you 🙂
– – – – – – – –
Not five minutes later came Stephen’s response:
– – – – – – –
Excellent. I’ll see you at 3 o’clock outside the Hanging Gardens Tea House. Wear a simple black dress, or blouse and skirt.
– – – – – – – –
She sat frozen for a minute, and then jerked into motion. Now she really had to do her laundry, but first she urgently needed to introduce herself to the shower nozzle.
* * * * * * *
Nayana sat on the Underground train, nervously clutching her purse. It was made from glossy black PVC, matching her shoes. She was wearing a black knee-length straight skirt and a matching jacket, with a Chinese style blouse in black satin embroidered with red flowers. She also wore a pair of black stay-ups with a curling Paisley pattern, and crowned her efforts with matching Ankh pendant and ear studs. She had swept her hair back in a tight ponytail and applied the barest hint of makeup. A bit of rouge and matching red eyeshadow to bring out her rich, dusky skin, but she had opted for a matte brown lipstick that simply enhanced her natural lip colouration. She checked her reflection for the hundredth time just as the train rolled in to her stop.
The night before, while she had been angsting about what to wear and conducting several wardrobe raids, she had googled the Hanging Garden Tea House to find out where it was, and found that it was a posh place. Really posh. Founded in the late 19:th century, it was one of the oldest tea houses in the country that was still active. It was actually an annex to a botanical garden designed in Art Nouveau style, making it look like something the elves in Lord of the Rings would have built, had they lived in the 1890:s.
Nayana’s heels click-clacked on the smudged tiles of the Underground station as she emerged from the bowels of the city a few minutes ahead of time. She stepped out from the station onto a fairly quiet street, dotted with the occasional tree and lined with beautiful old buildings. The whole area was a blatant contrast to the tower block area where she herself lived. No grimy concrete or burned-out cars anywhere, for starters.
There were clouds in the sky but sunlight filtered down through the foliage of the trees, giving the street a soft, greenish cast. The air was comfortably tempered, and only the slightest breeze stirred the leaves. Nayana found a sign showing the direction of the botanical garden, and started walking.
Stephen was waiting for her under a tree outside the entrance to the tea house, standing relaxed with one hand in his pocket. When he saw her approach, he smiled and waved to her. Nayana waved back, hoping that her smile didn’t look as nervous as she felt. He was wearing a plain black three-piece suit, red shirt and a black tie. A silver watch chain adorned his waistcoat, and his Dr Marten’s three-hole shoes looked recently polished.
“My goodness, you look absolutely ravishing,” he greeted her and leaned in for a light hug. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“Oh, how could I refuse?” she said as she returned the hug. “And you don’t look too bad yourself.” He smiled at this, amused.
“Thank you, I try. Shall we go in?”
They entered through the abundantly ornamented portal, which looked like it had been grown rather than built. As they made their way inside, it was all Nayana could do not to gape at their surroundings. Everything was true to style, with mosaic on the floor and walls, and even the support columns sprouted softly curving vines of metal. Stephen noticed her reaction and said:
“It’s all right to stare, you know. First time I came here, it took me half an hour to pick my jaw off the floor. I’ve been a regular visitor ever since.” Nayana could only nod in response.
“Welcome back, sir,” the woman in traditional waitress uniform behind the counter greeted as they approached. “What’ll it be today?”
“Thank you, Maddy,” Stephen replied. “We’ll have afternoon tea for two, my usual table.”
He gently placed his hand on the small of Nayana’s back and led her through a door and over to a secluded table by the back entrance to the actual garden. Through the glass panes she could see the lush vegetation in the garden, which was in fact an enormous greenhouse. Hidden speakers played some sort of mellow classical music on a low volume, creating a fitting backdrop for the decor.
Stephen’s gentle touch on her back sent a jolt through Nayana, but she kept a straight face. When he took her jacket and pulled out the chair for her before seating himself, she began to realise that he was playing a game with her. But what sort of game? She sat down neatly and admired the opulent surroundings while he hung the jacket on a coat rack. When he sat down she thought she could detect an amused glint in his eyes.
They chatted politely and noncommittally about the weather until the waitress arrived, bearing an enormous tray. It was laden with a silver tea pot, beautiful blue- on- white porcelain cups and saucers and an abundance of food. Nayana tried not to goggle at the pots of jam and clotted cream, the large plate of neatly cut sandwiches and the towel-covered basket from which came a delicious smell of warm scones. She felt her mouth start to water immediately.
When the waitress had left them, Stephen poured the tea. Nayana watched his hands as he handled the tea pot and cutlery, and remembered how she had imagined them touching her. They seemed strong but gentle, and she wondered to herself how it would feel to have them unbutton her blouse, pull her skirt above her waist…
“Um, what?”
“One or two lumps?” Stephen held up the sugar bowl and tongs.
“Oh! Um, two. Two lumps. Please.” She blushed slightly and busied herself with the sandwiches, but didn’t miss his amused glance. It was almost as if he’d known what she was thinking.
They carried on with their meal and the conversation, and soon she started feeling a bit less awkward. Stephen was the image of the perfect gentleman, always polite and never asking an impertinent question. Nayana enjoyed acting the counterpart to this, making a game out of the fine manners. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, noting his fingers as he put his tea spoon down or his lips as he sipped his tea. His movements were precise, calculated and neat, and she mirrored him carefully.
When she noticed that he was also watching her, she stifled a devious smile. As they went on talking about the financial situation or the cutbacks in the public sector, she started teasing him subtly by licking her tea spoon before putting it down, or by “accidentally” getting a bit of clotted cream on her finger when smearing it on her scone. When she put the finger in her mouth to lick the thick white cream off, she caught him looking at it with slightly parted lips, and she couldn’t help but smile.
When neither of them could eat any more they stayed at the table for a bit to talk about music they liked, but Nayana soon announced that she needed to go “reapply her lipstick”. Stephen immediately got up and took her chair, and she walked off towards the restrooms.
She quickly finished her business and reapplied the lipstick. ‘Where is this going?’ she thought as she looked herself over in the mirror. ‘Has he been flirting with me this whole time, or am I imagining it?’
When she returned to the table she found that the remains of their meal had been cleared away, and Stephen was waiting to help her put on her jacket.
“I thought we’d walk a bit,” he said. “The garden is open for another hour or so, and you really mustn’t leave here without seeing it.” He came up behind her and softly slid the jacket over her arms, to then smooth the fabric down with his hands. Nayana felt his warm breath on the back of her neck, and had to fight the impulse to lean into him. For a brief moment he let his hands remain on her waist, his lips mere inches from her ear.
“Shall we, then?” He deliberately broke the moment, reaching past her to pick up her purse. She didn’t trust herself to speak at that moment, but simply nodded mutely and linked her arm with his when he offered it. They walked out from the tea house…
…and into a jungle. There were plants everywhere, and the air was heavy with the scent of green foliage and clean earth. From somewhere came the sound of a babbling brook, softly underlined by the same music that was heard in the tea house. The only thing missing was the sound of birds. The greenhouse made the air warm and humid, but not unpleasantly so.
As she looked around, Nayana realised that the plants weren’t randomly placed. There were brass plaques naming the various plants, and they had clearly been planted not only to look nice but according to some botanical system she was unfamiliar with.
“It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.
“It is indeed. We really should come here again for one of their tours, the guides explain what the plants are in a way that’s a lot more exciting than I ever could.” He smiled at her expression of wonder.
They stopped at a wrought iron railing to watch the gold carps swimming in the water below. Stephen leaned one arm on the railing, the other hand at Nayana’s waist. She moved a little closer, nearly touching her hip to his.
“I was wondering,” she said, “what it is you do? I haven’t figured it out. You don’t seem like the office type, but… I dunno.” She glanced up at him. He chuckled.
“Well, office type or not, I do work in one most of the time. I’m an illustrator and visual consultant at Charles’ company. Though I must say I like the ‘illustrator’ part better than the ‘consultant’ part. What about you?”
“Oh,” Nayana said, feeling suddenly more out of her league than before. “I’m just a supermarket clerk. I’m nobody, really.”
“Nobody?” Stephen put his hand on her cheek and turned her towards him to look into her eyes. She held her breath. “You certainly aren’t ‘nobody’. I’d say you are a clever, pleasant young woman with an exquisite sense of style…” He softly stroked her cheek. “…not to mention beautiful.” Then he finally leaned in and kissed her.
At first it was only a closed- mouth kiss, but it still made goose-flesh erupt all over her skin. Stephen pulled back for a moment, but almost immediately met her lips again, and this time he introduced his tongue. Nayana threw her arms around his waist and kissed him back almost desperately. They devoured each others mouths with hunger.
How long they kissed she didn’t know, but all too soon a voice was heard over the speakers:
“We’d like to remind our guests that the Botanical Garden closes in ten minutes. Please make your way to the exit, and welcome back another day.” Reluctantly they pulled apart.
“Oh my,” she said breathlessly. “I suppose I’ll need to fix my lipstick again. Oh, and so do you,” she laughed.
“I know, I know,” Stephen smiled and produced a couple of paper tissues from a pocket. Handing one to Nayana, he used the other to wipe off the remains of her lipstick that was smeared all over his mouth and chin. When they were both a bit cleaner he leaned in for a quick kiss on the lips before they walked toward the exit.
When they walked out the door it turned out that the sunny day had turned to a drizzling rain while they were inside. They had been too preoccupied, or else they would have noticed the patter of rain on the greenhouse glass. Stephen eyed her tiny purse.
“You didn’t bring an umbrella, did you?” When she shook her head he replied “Neither did I. Look, I live just a couple of blocks away. If we walk really fast, we shouldn’t get too wet… I hope.”
He took her hand, and with hunched shoulders they set off down the street. They hadn’t made it far, however, before they realised that the rain was only getting heavier. They set off at a light run, but they were still about a block away from Stephen’s house when a proper torrent struck them, soaking them to the bone in icy water. Nayana squealed, and tried to run faster in her low heels.
The rain eased up just as they reached Stephen’s house, and he quickly let them in. When they were finally inside his flat, they just stood in his hallway, dripping, and stared at each other, before breaking out in near hysteric laughter. They both looked like drenched cats.
“Good grief woman, you’re shaking,” Stephen said when he had regained the powers of speech. “You’ll catch your death like this.” He kicked off his shoes and ushered her through the flat, upstairs to the bathroom. “Get out of those wet clothes and have a hot shower, I’ll have one after you. There are towels and bathrobes in the cupboard. Go on!” He gave her a slap on the bum, making her laugh through her chattering teeth. He closed the bathroom door after her.
As Nayana quickly stripped out of her dripping clothes she looked around at the bathroom. She hadn’t had time to get a proper look at the rest of the flat, other that that it was decorated in lots of dark colours, but this room was all in beige tile, with an arabesque pattern along the floor and ceiling. There was a shower cabin to one side and what looked like a hot tub to the other. Shivering and nearly numb from the cold, she got into the shower.
A few minutes later she was standing in front of the misted mirror, looking at a blurry reflection of her naked body. ‘This wasn’t how I expected to end up naked in his flat,’ she thought to herself, ‘but it could be worse I suppose.’ Frowning, she squeezed her love handles before wrapping herself in a large, black terrycloth bathrobe. She considered putting her panties back on but, feeling a bit naughty, decided against it. Checking to see that her wet clothes were hanging on clothes-hangers to dry, she stepped out of the bathroom.
Stephen came to meet her, also dressed in a bathrobe. He gave her a one-armed hug and put a glass of red wine in her hand.
“My turn. Here, this’ll get your circulation up. Make yourself comfortable, I won’t be long.” With that, he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Moments later Nayana heard the shower start. She pushed a few wet curls from her face and started down the stairs, sipping her wine.
Music was playing, some sort of Dark Ambient she guessed. As she came back down to the living room she let her eyes wander, curious about what the place looked like. Next to the stairs there was a closed door with a sign that said “Studio”. The door, like most of the furniture, was in some dark wood panel. The room was dimly lit by a few table lamps and the like, as well as several candle lanterns. The walls were painted a muted green, accented with bronze-coloured drapes and heavy curtains. On the bare sections of wall hung several large prints of photos and paintings, many with darkly supernatural motives, all eerily beautiful.
One corner of the room was filled with bookshelves, crammed with books. There was also a stuffed leather armchair and a small table with an “antique”reading lamp. In the middle of the room there was a sectional sofa matching the armchair, facing away from where she was standing.
The furthest end of the room, with the kitchen door, was occupied by a mid-sized flat-screen TV set on the wall amid shelves of DVD:s and CD:s. There seemed to be several appliances hooked up to it, including at least two game consoles. A few blinking lights suggested that this was the source of the music. The whole place was really clean and neat, as opposed to the raging chaos that reigned in her own tiny flat. She decided he probably hired a maid service.
Nayana browsed the bookshelves for a minute, and when she found a large paperback on haunted houses in Britain and Ireland she brought it with her to the sofa. Curling up in the warm bathrobe, she flicked on a floor lamp and started leafing through the book as she drank the wine. The alcohol and the warmth from the shower helped her relax, and she was starting to feel a bit of a buzz. She was so captivated by the book that she started when Stephen spoke from the unlit stairs:
“Ah, crap.” Nayana looked up at him in surprise, eyebrows raised.
“What is it?”
“Ah,” he answered, “you were just so beautiful sitting like that, with your wet hair and the backlight from the lamp, and I realised that I would never be able to recreate that exact look in any of my illustrations. I left both my good cameras at the office, too…” He sighed and walked over to her.
“Oh… thank you,” Nayana said and blushed. When he leaned in to kiss her, she realised that she was wearing nothing but a bathrobe, and so was probably he. With her free hand she grabbed the lapel of his bathrobe, pulling him closer to prolong the kiss. She felt him smile against her lips.
When she let him come up for air, he cleared his throat. She met his eyes with a mischievous smile.
“Ah, do you have work tomorrow?” he asked, slightly breathless.
“Mmm, yes… but I have the late shift, I don’t start until eleven.” His disappointed look turned to delight.
“Great, because those clothes of yours will take all night to dry, and I wouldn’t want to send you home in them wet.” He, set his wine glass on the table, sat down next to her and picked up her feet. He put them in his lap and started rubbing them with his warm hands. Nayana pretended not to notice that her bathrobe slid open, revealing her legs up to the knees.
Feeling a bit naughty, she put the book down and leaned over to the table to refill her glass, giving Stephen a nice view of her cleavage in the process. She then turned to rest her back on the armrest, stretching her smooth brown legs and giving him better access to her feet – and a better view of her legs, as the robe slid open a bit more. His pleased smile told her he enjoyed the show. She sipped her wine.
“By the way, I’m sorry about Eloise the other night.”
“Really? How come?”
“Oh, you know, for the way she was acting, she gets like that… a lot. What you must think of me for hanging around her…”
“I think you are a smart woman who doesn’t deserve to be kept around simply to feed somebody else’s ego, that’s what I think. And I actually meant, why do you feel that you need to apologise for her behaviour?”
“Uh… I don’t know, I just… I guess I just don’t want you to think I’m like that.”
“Don’t worry about that. How do you two know each other, anyway?”
“We used to work at the same place, but I got the sack when they needed to cut back on staff. They never said anything about it, but they kept almost all of the white staff, while us coloured were let go.” A tone of bitterness crept into her voice.
“So you’re a trained hotel desk clerk too?” Stephen asked.
“Yeah, we met at the Star. Most of the other girls at the party were Eloise’s friends from school, I’m sort of the new girl in the gang.” Something connected in her mind about what Stephen had just said. “Wait, how do you know about her being a hotel clerk?”
Oh,” Stephen replied, adopting a neutral expression, “she told me about it when she was here.”
“She was here?” Nayana felt a sting of jealousy.
“Yes, she came to find me when I was leaving the club. She was quite… insistent.” He chuckled.
“So that’s where she got to. I wondered… but, she hated you! Why would she…?” She gaped at him.
“Well… I think she thought that she was going to save face by ‘subduing me with her feminine charms’, but that didn’t quite work as intended.” He smiled wickedly. “What I really think she wanted, without admitting it to herself, was to be punished for what she knew was a poor behaviour. And I’ve found…” He now looked straight into Nayana’s eyes, challenging her, “…some women get really turned on by men who don’t bend to their will.”
A thrill of excitement ran up Nayana’s legs from where Stephen’s hands rested on her feet.
“And…” She cleared her throat. “And, did she get punished?” she asked, voice slightly husky.
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” he said and winked. “Though I believe she got a few things to think about before she left. Maybe she won’t be quite such a heinous bitch in the future.”
“Let’s hope not,” Nayana laughed.
“If she is, maybe I’ll have to bring her back here. But she isn’t here tonight. You are.” With that, he slid one of his hands up the inside of her leg to rest halfway up her thigh. Her breath caught.
“So you’ve noticed, hey?” she said, her voice a bit shaky.
“Oh yes. Here we are, having a polite conversation when all I want to do is to devour you whole.” He slid her feet off his lap and got down on his knees beside the sofa. “Time to unwrap my present, I think.” He pushed the table away and then slowly undid the cord that kept her bathrobe closed. She reached out to touch his face, and he kissed the palm of her hand.
Slowly, very slowly, Stephen pulled apart Nayana’s bathrobe. She simply lay back and let him work, not trusting herself to do anything other than simply push him onto his back and straddle him then and there. Her pulse throbbed in all of her most sensitive parts. His eyes hungrily followed the curves of her body as they were revealed to him, and his lips curved in a reverential smile.
When he leaned in to kiss her she fumbled feverishly to untie his bathrobe, and it was all she could do not to try to rip it from him. Instead she put her hands on his chest to feel his warm skin and ruffle the light covering of hair. Lips locked together, they explored each others bodies by touch, and Nayana felt as if his hands lit a fire wherever they passed.
She fell back onto the armrest, breathing heavily, but Stephen gave her no respite. He fondled her breasts gently but firmly, and let his mouth travel from her throat downwards. When he trailed his fiery kisses around her sensitive nipples she let out a moaning ‘Oh!’ and grasped his head with both hands. She didn’t know how long he played with them, but when he left her breasts to continue down they felt twice their normal size and filled with burning butterflies. She squirmed beneath him.
When he grabbed her hips and pulled her to a more comfortable position, she whispered a soft ‘Oh, yes’. He smiled up at her, ran his fingers a couple of times through her trimmed pubic hair, and then lifted her outer leg to drape it over his shoulder. She felt so wet already, and her vulva felt so hot that she for a moment expected steam to rise from it. Then Stephen leaned in and planted a kiss on her inner thigh, and she forgot how to think.
He started out by teasing her with little kisses, coming closer and closer to her eager lips and clit. And then, finally, he let her feel his tongue slipping lightly from the bottom of her slit to land on her love button. He circled it once, twice, and on the third round she groaned ‘Oh god!’ and arched her back under him. Her hands found a grip on the sofa and she held fast as he licked her.
Nayana was no virgin (though her parents probably fooled themselves that she was), and a few of her previous lovers had treated her to oral “pleasure”. None of them had shown any real enthusiasm about it, though, seemingly doing it just as a way of guilting her into sucking them off. Stephen, however, seemed to thoroughly enjoy what he was doing. He licked her lips with long strokes, sucked her clit, stuck his tongue as far inside her as he could reach and now and then he did something with his tongue that she couldn’t quite understand but which sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She thought she was halfway to Nirvana.
She squirmed and bucked beneath his attention, now grasping his head or kneading her breasts, now desperately gripping the edges of the sofa. The sensation was building within her until she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold off much longer. Stephen’s magic tongue fanned the flames within her…
…until he just stopped and pulled back. Nayana opened her eyes and cried desperately:
“Oh god! Why are you stopping? Please…” Then she heard a buzzing noise from the hallway and noticed Stephen’s surprised expression.
“Ah crap, it’s the food.” Noticing her questioning look, he explained: “When you were in the shower, I phoned to order some food delivered. I’d forgotten about it… I guess I was distracted.” He winked at her and got up. As he rose Nayana got a quick glimpse of his sleek body and the stiff cock that poked out from his robe before he tied it up, wiped his face and went to answer the door. She let out a frustrated hiss, and carelessly pulled her robe closed before sitting up.
There was a mumble of voices at the door, and then Stephen returned with two paper bags bearing the logo of some Lebanese restaurant. Something smelled delicious, but Nayana now only had one thing on her mind.
“Right,” Stephen said as he put the bags down on the table. “Where were we… woah!” Nayana had simply grabbed him by the robe’s cord and yanked him toward her, and before he could react she pulled it open. His semi-hard cock swung out at her, glistening at the tip.
“My turn now,” she said, and grabbing him by the buttocks she sucked him into her mouth. He gasped and grabbed her head in his hands. He tasted delicious, slightly salty with that certain tang one only finds in this special place.
She sucked him eagerly, barely aware that he untied his bathrobe and threw it off. He then twined his fingers in her still damp hair again.
“Oh, oh god. That’s good… that feels so good,” he groaned. Nayana smiled as she pulled her mouth off him, and said:
“Yeah? Well, don’t just stand there. Shut up and fuck me!” She flung her robe wide open, put her feet up on the seat and leaned back, wide open to him. He laughed and got down on his knees before her.
“Giving orders, are you?” he said. “Well, that’s a first.” Nayana leaned forward, grabbed him by the back of the neck and said very clearly:
“What part of ‘shut up and fuck me’ didn’t you get?”
Smiling wickedly, he growled at her and in one motion he plunged his cock deep into her until their thighs slapped together. Nayana cried out in pleasure and fell back. Stephen started pumping her relentlessly.
With the tongue-lashing Stephen had subjected her to before, and the ramming she endured now, it did not take long for her to close in on her first orgasm. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped the edge of the sofa until her knuckles popped as the sensations exploded through her. Convulsions shook her body and pushed a hoarse cry from her throat. Stephen pounded her hard a few more times, then held still as she slowly stopped twitching and bucking beneath him.
Panting, Nayana looked up at him looming above her, his cock still inside her. She could feel her quim pulsing around him still. She unclenched her hands from the sofa, and lifted them to caress his chest.
“Wow,” she said breathlessly. “That was…”
“Hush, now. We’re not done yet.” And with that he leaned in and kissed her deeply, just as he began slowly sliding his cock in and out of her again. She moaned against his lips.
This time he fucked her slowly and very gently, clearly pacing himself to last. He kept grinding his pelvis into hers, creating a sweet pressure that mounted slowly to agonising heights. The whole time, his eyes never left hers except for when he leaned in to kiss her och nuzzle her ears and neck. They were both sweating now, and Nayana enjoyed sliding her hands over his slick skin. Emitting little moans of pleasure, she stroked his nipples with the palms of her hands, delighted by the soft groans this drew from him.
She was building slowly towards her next orgasm, but the pace they kept didn’t seem to bring her there as soon as she wanted. She was just about to ask him to go faster when he suddenly picked up both her legs, put her ankles on his shoulders and resumed his slow pumping. She didn’t know if it was the angle or the fact that he reached deeper, but this turned up her sensations more than a couple of notches, and she cried out wordlessly as she grabbed his hips.
“Oh, oh yes, please…” she cried out as she could feel the eruption draw close. Apparently this new position was more enjoyable for him as well, if his grunts and his gritted teeth were to be believed. And finally…
“Aaahhh!” She screamed as the second orgasm shook her, and she was only remotely aware of Stephen collapsing on top of her with a hoarse cry. They hugged each other close as Nayana floated on waves of fiery bliss, very much aware of Stephen’s cock twitching inside her.
They lay entwined for several minutes. She enjoyed the sensation of his cock softening inside her, and of his weight on top of her. He said nothing, just lay there with his face buried at her neck, breathing. When his cock finally slipped out of her on its own, he stirred and raised himself up to kiss her deeply.
A few minutes later, after he’d gotten up to get some paper towels for them to clean up with, Nayana noticed that he seemed a bit uncomfortable.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Ah, look, I’m sorry… I guess I got a bit carried away here, or I would have used a condom.” He winced apologetically. Nayana chuckled.
“Hey, listen. I’m on the pill, have been for years, and I haven’t been with anyone since I got tested after my last boyfriend. That’s about a year ago. So unless you got ‘carried away’ with Eloise…”
“Oh no, not at all.” He relaxed visibly. “I’m usually careful, and I get tested regularly. There shouldn’t be a problem.” He grinned at her. “How about that food?”
* * * * * * *
They were lying in his large bed, snuggled together among the cool sheets. Nayana lay on her side, back pressed against Stephen who lay behind her. His arm lay across her abdomen, and he gently stroked her belly. She could feel his breath on her neck, the warmth from his body and, if she wiggled her bum, his limp cock nestling between her buttocks. When he felt her move like this he chuckled and put his hand on her breast, squeezing gently.
“Hey, I thought you said you were tired,” he muttered. Nayana giggled and pushed her bottom against him again. His cock twitched a bit.
“Tired, well fed and well fucked,” she replied. “Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the moment.” She paused. “Say, do you do this often?”
“Do what?” he asked, squeezing her breast again. “Drag defenseless young women to my lair and have my way with them?” Nayana laughed.
“Well, yeah, something like that. I mean, I’m 25 and my mother has been pestering me to find a husband since I turned 18. I probably would have, if the guys she’s set me up with hadn’t been complete bastards.” Stephen chuckled into her hair. “Thankfully my family don’t practice arranged marriage any more. Anyway, you are like, what…”
“I’m 32, and I discouraged my mum from pestering me about marriage and grandchildren a long time ago.”
“Right. But a lot of people get married before they turn 30, like. Nathalie is married, you know?”
“And you want to know why I live by myself like this, only ‘dragging young women to my lair’ and all that?” Nayana nodded.
“Well…” He hesitated. “I’ve had a few long-term relationships, which all ended in disaster more or less. Took me a good bit of, soul-searching I guess you’d call it, to figure out why.” He played absentmindedly with Nayana’s nipple, making it difficult for her to focus on what he was saying. “Have you heard about polyamory?”
“Mm… no? What’s that?”
“Well, the short version is that polyamorous people don’t want to, or simply can’t, limit their love and affection, or sex for that matter, to only one partner.” He let go of her breast, sliding his hand down her stomach to caress the outside of her thigh. “It works differently for different people, some really just want to fuck anything that moves -” He planted a couple of kisses on the back of her neck “- but as for me, I found that I could be in love, and lust, with more than one person at a time without the emotions becoming conflicted. Social conventions aside, of course.” He squeezed Nayana’s buttock and moved his hand up her back, massaging her gently.
“Oh, that feels nice… um, but, ah, I guess not all women accept that sort of thing?”
“Well, I did say that my relationships had ended in disaster, didn’t I? I’ve actually never cheated on anyone, not as in ‘had sex outside the relation’, but divided attentions tend to get noticed anyway…” His hand was now rubbing her shoulder rather firmly, causing the muscles to relax.
“Ah, right there, yes… ah, but aren’t there other people who are like that, poly… polyamorous?”
“Well, yeah, but… actually,” he interrupted, getting up on his elbow, “turn over on your stomach.”
“Hm? Oh…” Nayana complied, rolling over to lie flat on her stomach while resting her head on her hands. Stephen pushed the sheets off her and sat up on her thighs. As he leaned forward to kiss her neck she could just feel the tip of his slowly hardening cock brush against her buttocks.
“Right. Other people, yeah,” Stephen continued as he began massaging her shoulders properly. “Yeah, there are others. I know people who live in threesomes or even foursomes, people who have kids in large, loose family constellations…” He kneaded the flesh along her spine, causing her to moan as he worked the muscles loose. “But there’s this other thing. You’ve noticed that this flat is furnished for one person only, right?”
“Nnnhh… yes…”
Well, I found out that I really can’t stand living together with somebody. Doesn’t matter how much I love them,” he continued, massaging the small of her back, “having someone around me every day drives me bananas.” He used both hands to knead the flesh first on one side of her hips, then the other. “And it doesn’t improve over time, either, as I found out the hard way. I need to be by my self a lot, or I get uncomfortable.”
“Oooh, that feels good… ehm, that sounds like you’d get lonely, though. Don’t you?” Nayana asked, her voice muffled by the pillow.
“Well, I guess I could, but…” He scooted down a bit, and put his hands on her bum. Nayana felt him lean down and plant a light kiss on each of her buttocks, making her giggle. “…but I’m pretty lucky that way. I’ve got a good job, and I’ve got lots of things in common with my work mates. We’re good friends outside work as well, and I have a pretty active life.” He began massaging her buttocks, first gently but successively harder.
“So I guess what I mean is that right now I’m not looking for any steady relationship, though I’d be stupid to turn it down if the perfect deal presented itself.” Stephen kept on kneading Nayana’s buttocks and upper thighs, sometimes slipping a thumb up close in a way that had her getting pretty aroused by the time he moved further down her legs. They both kept silent while he turned around to massage her feet, apart from the occasional delighted squeal from Nayana.
When he was done with her feet, Stephen turned back around to sit on her thighs. He leaned down to lie on her back, planting another kiss in the back of her neck. Nayana was by now feeling both relaxed and pleasantly aroused, and languidly asked:
“So everything is perfectly fine, is that what you mean? Sounds like pretty soft living to me.”
“Hm, well… to answer your first question, I don’t bring women here as often as one might think, but it does happen.” Stephen ran his tongue along the rim of her ear, and she shuddered. “Most are just interested in a one-nighter, which is fine, but…” He moved his hips up a little higher, until the head of his cock was nestled in the valley where her buttocks met. “…but I personally prefer those who want to come back for more. There’s no time to explore everything in just one go, right?”
“Mmhm,” Nayana muttered and clenched her buttocks together, gently squeezing the head of his cock between them, feeling the small wet spot he left behind. “Doesn’t anybody ever get, you know, upset? Because, you know…”
“Because they feel rejected when I don’t immediately want to go pick out a wedding dress?” They both laughed. “Of course. I’ve had the ‘but we had sex, therefore you are mine’ reaction a couple of times… mmm, you smell good.” He burrowed his nose into the crook of Nayana’s neck, making her squeal. “I’ve felt a bit jealous too, when someone I’ve dated has found a regular partner. But I guess nothing worth having ever comes easy.”
Stephen raised himself on his arms, his hips still pushing against Nayana’s bottom.
“Now, you said you were on the pill, right?”
“Good.” And he pushed the crown of his cock between her wet, welcoming lips, just a few inches in. She let out a hoarse breath, and pushed her hips back at him. Sitting on his knees he began moving his hips back and forth, his cock sliding inside her by only a few inches in either direction.
“Oh god,” she groaned, “you are such a tease!”
“Tease? Ha! You’ll see. I’m gonna fuck you slow, deep and hard until you can’t even beg me for more!”
And he did.
* * * * * * *
“But I want to use my coupon!” The elderly woman in the beige coat was turning purple with rage.
“I understand, ma’am,” said Nayana for what felt like the hundredth time, “but the coupon has expired. You were supposed to use it last month…”
“But I want to use it NOW! It’s a good coupon!” The lady waved the little slip of paper that once would have let her buy parsnips at a slight discount in Nayana’s face.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t…”
“I want to see the manager! You bloody pakkies don’t know how to do anything!”
Clenching her teeth when hearing the racial slur, Nayana picked up her intercom phone and asked for the floor manager. She wondered briefly what the old bat would do when she realised that Rasheed, the manager, really was from Pakistan, but decided that it was not her problem.
When she put the phone down, the old lady hissed at her:
“I’m going to get you fired, you snivelling pakkie!”
Nayana just smiled stiffly at her, and then finally Jin Kyong, her replacement, came to relieve her from her shift. The Korean girl looked warily at the rabid old lady, and Nayana surreptitiously shook her head to let her know to be careful.
When she got back to the staff dressing room, Nayana sat down on a bench with a dejected sigh. She would have buried her face in her hands, but they still smelled like pickles and lemon floor cleaner from that “accident” those school kids had had earlier. Who knew you could make improvised explosive devices from ordinary supermarket ingredients? There had been pickles everywhere.
As Nayana pulled off her uniform she turned on her phone (floor staff are not allowed to carry private phones during work hours). When she pulled on her jacket, it squealed:
“You’ve got spam!”
Nayana’s heart gave a jolt. Maybe it was from Stephen?
– – – – – – –
My old friend Steve told me that you have experience working as a hotel receptionist, is that right?
My company doesn’t run any hotels, but we are a known network consultant office and we’re looking for a receptionist / greeter to handle our client meetings and to man our reception desk.
Does this sound like your cup of tea?