between my legs. He moves in and out very slowly getting my juice running all over his fingers, then he rubs the end of his hard cock with my wetness, pulls my arse close to him and enters me from behind. The feeling is delicious, he pumps in and out of me a steady rhythm, hard and deep. He is rubbing into me back and forth, coated in my slick wetness, I have never felt desire like this, riding up and down his cock, delighting in the friction, I close my legs onto him, to make the journey tighter, and push back against him my body is badly aching for this.
"I’m cuming" he whispers in my ear, "soon." His fingers find my clit, the sensitive crests of my cleft, and begin working the swollen end of my mound, flicking and rubbing, I can't contain my pleasure any longer I want to scream out, then I remember where I am, I climax, with a silent jaw-clench. I feel naked and sore and satisfied. Who is this man?
Note to self, buy more underwear, soon.
I feel Daniels final thrust deep inside me, and a warm flow of ejaculate that finishes him down inside me again. Exhausted, we feebly dress again. “What are you doing to me Tharie?” He buckles his belt, “I can’t keep my hands off you baby.”
“The benefit of having your own business?” I ask.
“No,” he pulls at the end of the leather belt at his waist to tighten it, “this is. New.” He slides his feet into his shoes. “I don't do this, it’s a new feeling” he twists my hair in his fist, it almost hurts, “I can try to stop, for a few minutes at a time” looks at me, "but after that…I hope you don’t mind?" We laugh and he leaves my studio sliding the door behind him. I am left alone, a damp satisfied feeling between my legs and unsteady on my feet.
Another email arrives:
Dear Miss Charles,
I enjoy the way you are vigilant in your new job and aim to please at every task. I look forward to witnessing all the other challenges that may come your way working here.
Daniel Pearce: Founder RANDom Denim.
Bloody hell. FX half-pass to the left.
When I eventually leave for home, I am awash with confused carnal thoughts, and am sore everywhere, and I like it. Pete can’t leave it alone after all, and it’s only been an hour, my phone vibrates and I must respond!
PF: “First day OK?” You have no idea.
TC: “Exhausting” (and I wasn’t kidding either) need more bloody tea.
PF: “Sounds interesting” it is.
TC: “You have no idea” but don’t worry, I’ll tell you later.
PF: “And the boy?” Here we go.
TC: “We had…lunch” not a lie exactly.
PF:: “Delicious…and?” She’s sharp that one.
TC: “Fellatio” whoopee.
PF: “Sounds Italian!” She's right, it does.
TC: “Idiot” true story.
PF: “Lucky swine, carnality in the middle of the working day” brilliant isn’t it?
TC: “Need new underwear” true story.
PF: “Haven’t I been telling you that for years, let’s go shopping…soon” I’ll put it in my diary for this week.
Note to self, buy new lingerie.
…also get haircut.
...also, stop talking to yourself.
…..well dear reader, what did you expect? More tea too?
Chapter eight, Wednesday:23rdoctober2013, Tokyo
As we disembark the plane at Narita, the rain is sweeping down off the hills, a swirling ripple of silvering clouds look ominous above us and the whole ambience is that of dark brooding shades of grey. It’s warm, and windy too, our jackets flap crazily about our legs as we come down the steps to the tarmac below.
We have had no sleep, I feel jet-lagged before I even enter Tokyo, and still we have a bus ride ahead of us. “I could use a little sleep Daniel.” My head is still muzzy from the useless herbal tablets in my system, I slur sleepily not strong enough to send me to sleep, just make me floppy. I have to hold tight to the handrail on the way down to avoid slipping over on the drenched surface of the steps.
“Let’s get to our hotel and make a plan from there eh?” He tells me turning his phones back on. He winks at me through the flying strands of his hair, desperately trying to tame it but failing in the random effect of the wind. A storm is brewing as I look above us, there's a current in the air as the clouds are rubbing together, the friction makes an atmosphere that dulls sounds and the grey now