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Julie bustled into the kitchen with her shopping.
“Where is the boss, have you almost finished, how much longer?”
She examined the room. Nothing much seemed to have changed.
“Oh no! Please don’t tell me that there is a problem.”
The young man stared dumbly and just shrugged his shoulders. Julie had established the previous day that this one didn’t have much to say. He seemed a little shy. She had tried to engage him in conversation as she found him cute in a naïve way. But he more often than not just grunted an answer that she found difficult to understand.
What had initially disconcerted her was his overt stare. Then she had found it somehow exciting that his eyes unashamedly darted over her body, pausing now and then on her breasts and her legs. She found herself tucking in her tummy and squaring her shoulders to make her small breasts a little more prominent.
He was called Dirk. Not at all the name she would have guessed to suit him. His frame was slim, bordering on thin, and wiry. Stubble, or rather bum-fluff on his face seemed to belie his claimed nineteen years. Loose jogging pants hid what Julie guessed was a normal set of male sex organs. The tee-shirt was always scruffy and loose too. But, there was just something about this young man that had her inquisitiveness.
Julie busied herself putting her purchases away. Exaggerating all her movements; reaching to the high selves she made efforts to expose her slim legs.
At five-three her pins were not that long but naked at her bathroom mirror she felt that her body was well proportioned. Okay, she didn’t have the narrow hips that many females had these days but then men of her acquaintance seemed to like the hour-glass shape. Bigger boobs would have helped but again, her male friends like to tease her with that old quip of “any more than a mouthful...” to which she always laughed as it seemed to please the guys.
Although she didn’t look too often to confirm, she could feel Dirk’s eyes on her. It excited her in a way that it ought not but did. Perhaps a little relief would help and she decided to shower and... well anything else that would help.
“Is the boss coming back soon?” Julie asked the young man.
Dirk shrugged his broad shoulders, thought for a period then shook his head. A grunt seemed to reinforce his gestures.
Julie excused herself saying that her shopping trip had got her warm and she would take a shower. And please not to do anything to the water that would either scald her or freeze her. Dirk looked at her balefully and shrugged once again. His eyes raked her body from head to toe, pausing at her breasts tightly enclosed in a small, tight tee-shirt, as if drawing images sufficient to last until they were able to feast again at some later time.
Julie almost felt his stare. She turned giggling to herself.
The “ex-ing” of her husband had seemed like the end of her world just two years ago. Admitting that he still adored her he pleaded that she understood that it was imperative to his career that he please not only the woman with whom he had committed adultery but her family too.
After too long of self-pity Julie had “pulled herself together”, “got a grip” and faced the world on her own once again. A substantial settlement that her “ex” was in no position to afford and had to be financed by the woman that he had married too hastily, had put Julie in a great position of working only, as she often laughed, when and if she choose.
Of course the male sex vultures soon circled around her. She was a little daunted by the number of married men that overtly hit on her.
Julie rubbed oil on her skin where bra straps and knicker elastic caused wheals. Also she rubbed it over her belly. Not that now she would allow any man to make her pregnant. Oh no, she had planned a family with the man she had loved and he was gone. No, no babies for her now. But massaging her belly “did things” for her so it was part of her beauty regime now.
At times such as this where a man some ten years her junior overtly feasted his eyes on her form. At times where she, Julie, harboured thoughts of a male giving her sexual pleasure, hands that massaged her soft belly now took time out to extend their manipulations upward to her chest, stalling for as long as she could the move to her by now aching breasts.
They were not big enough, her breasts, for her mouth to suck on hardening nipples pulled to it so she attacked the nubs with finger and thumb, watching the areola respond as blood surged to them.
Julie had always experienced but had not been able to explain, the sensations at her pussy when male fingers tormented and teased at her sensitive nipples. There is was now as she watched in the large mirror her body respond. Not totally uninvited, thoughts entered her head. Thoughts, at first of the big boss-man of the young worker not, hopefully, busy in her kitchen. Then of that wiry, younger body.
He appeared gauche but then didn’t many young, inexperienced men? At his age Julie would bet that at least whatever he packed in those loose joggers had seen action. She recalled with not a little excitement young men just a year older than she, or even the same eighteen years of age that had wanted in her knickers. How she felt that convention decreed that she say no, praying that the men had the fortitude and desire to press on gently and persuadingly bringing a young woman off by virtue of her own sexual excitement and anticipation and his fingers’ feverish action at the crotch of her knickers. The same underwear that she washed out herself for fear her mother would see the products of her raised libido after a hot evening in some young guy’s car.
Julie glanced down at first then, unable to resist, fixed her eyes on it. Feet apart and knees bent she examined it as best she could in the bright lights of the bathroom. To touch it yet would be too soon. But already there were the unquestionable indications. One thing was certain; the razor would soon be needed to trim the bush that surmounted it back into shape.
As she reached to turn on the shower Julie listened. Listened for action in her kitchen. Some indication that the young worker was actually doing some work. Minor scuffing sounds were all that reached her ears. She would have to give him a stern talking to when she had finished showering; she wanted her apartment back. Back from the noise, dust and disruption.
Hot water was such a wonderful way to ease any cares and Julie stood under the flow just allowing its therapeutic qualities to work on her. The water streamed over her body, soaking her long hair then exploring every surface, every fold of skin, and cheekily and intimately delving in all those places that should be private to her but at which she enjoyed its warmth and flow.
Julie’s hands described the contours of her body; gently but firmly using the water to ease their passage over face, neck, shoulders. One hand outstretched, the other sympathetically drawing down from upheld fingers, further along wrist, forearm then up to shoulder when that arm was then raised to receive what pleasures it had given. Both hands reached for and caressed a breast each, not denying the fingers an indulgent tweak of those erect nipples.
Palms followed the contours of her rib cage then belly and onto her waist. Hands floated smoothly and suggestively over Julie’s hips not daring to move in the direction that would have them meet at that point that now begged for intervention. A point that the hot water had sought out and played over. Played with.
One foot obeyed her brain and move aside as if taking exception to the other foot and wanted to be as far away as possible. Julie glanced in the mirror and blew a breath over her heated face; soon, soon she would have to succumb to those primeval urges.
Either a sound, or a movement caught briefly in the mirror took Julie’s attention. Something at the door which she had carelessly left ajar... or had she.
“What is it? Do you want something? Her arm crossed her breasts, the other pressed to her mound as a figurative fig-leaf. “Get in here – NOW!”
He stood there in the doorway having pushed the door further open. The same baleful, expressionless look on his face. But his eyes were afire, with desire, lust, which or both? With the opening of the door Julie’s eyes caught his act of trying to cover what was held in his hand as he tried to hide it in those loose jogger pants. His penis.
Julie glared as hard as she was able trying to look angry. “Get in here you, are you hiding an erection in those pants”, she yelled at him.
Predictably he looked at her dumbly and with the tiniest shake of the head seemed to deny her accusation.
Julie turned slightly and cut off the water, turning back forgetting to hide her boobs and mound.
“Drop those pants! If you have been perving at me and have an erection I will have to inform your boss – and don’t think I won’t. Do it, NOW!”
The young man’s face remained expressionless, his eyes staring at her nakedness. It took no effort to push the loose garment over his slim hips and let it drop to the floor. Julie’s mouth gaped slightly as it was certain now that he wore no underwear. Standing proudly from a mass of red hair his cock appeared thin but Julie conjectured that the length may have caused an optical illusion. For sure whatever it was the phallus appeared long and thin but most remarkably it had a pronounced upward curve.
From her girlfriends, before she was married, she had heard tales of such a curved dick that would enter a girls’ vagina and immediately attack her “G-spot”, not that Julie had ever believed there was such a thing.
Now what was she to do? It would be a travesty to miss the opportunity to prove that a “G-spot” didn’t exist or at least not in her love tunnel. Yet, if she allowed this young man to aid her in such a quest her name, her reputation would be dirtier than mud. This man wasn't that communicative maybe he wouldn’t talk? Julie wiggled her hips rubbing her thighs tightly together causing pussy lips now puffed with sexual excitement and desire to slide against each other.
Dripping wet Julie stepped out the cubicle onto the tiled floor. The young man didn’t move. She crossed the gap between them her hand outstretched and aimed at that intriguing hardness at his groin. Her pink tongue relieving a sudden dryness on her mouth.
“Hey, Dirk, get your ass out here and unload the truck”, Came the shout from the front door.
Dirk grinned at Julie, and pulled up his pants covering that curved sex object, taking it not only from her outstretched, grasping fingers but from her sight.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck’, whispered Julie in abject frustration at the disappointment.
As he disappeared to answer his boss’s call Julie slammed the bathroom door in anger. She pressed fingers at her pussy then, instead of following her sexual instinct to masturbate, stepped into the cubicle determined now to fuck that man come what may, and soon.
At first sight he was her kind of man... for a one night stand; rugged, mature, sure of himself. No finesse with this type – what was it, ‘wham, bam...’ not much chance of a ‘thank you ma’am’ with him. In truth Julie had marked him as a possible if nothing else turned up on a day when she was at the top of her cycle and as horny as hell. The boss man.
Annoyingly the guy didn’t seem inclined towards Julie. He went about his business practically and efficiently. Not of course that Julie made any move or gesture or indication to the guy that would seem improper, as the ring on his finger showed he was married. He seemed to treat Dirk as if his name had a ‘t’ instead of the ‘k’.
“Ma’am, I’ll be out of here this evening”, claimed the boss man.
Julie gave him a radiant smile. The smile she gave herself was rueful; happy that the work would be finished but frustrated that the promise she made herself just minutes ago would have to be broken. With the end of the work, the end of her chance to get her hands (and maybe other parts) on that falcate phallus.
Julie busied herself with the necessities of cleaning up after the workers. The effort made her hot and in the back of her mind there nagged a little voice that insisted the shower that she would need when all was back to normal would have to include extra attention to an ache between her thighs.
It was one of those bags that men carry but insist isn’t a man-bag. Tool bag. Lunch bag. Never a man-bag – too feminine, too girlie, too gay.
It had to be Dirk’s, dare she look in it? What were the contents? She shook it then fingered the clasp. A sudden thought, that cached in the interior may lie one (or more?) girlie magazines, the type she had seen men reach down from the ‘top shelves’ and had heard that always contained some pages glued together with... she threw the bag aside in disgust.
“Yes hello, yes that’s me, no, no, no problem but I have a man-bag here that is possibly Dirk’s?” Julie heard the boss guffaw at the words “man-bag”. She had called him at the portable number on his card. There followed muffled yells and laughter.
“Yes ma’am, Dirk will collect it later if that is no problem, sorry about that.”
Julie pumped her free hand in the air in triumph. ‘Clever girl?’ she told the voice in her head.
Did she shower and preen herself in readiness for Dirk? Run the razor over where necessary? A little makeup and her best perfume just to get his juices flowing?
There were of course juices flowing already and that shower looked essential. But then some men adored the smell of a female ‘on heat’. What time would he come? She giggled at her pun.
Okay, a stroke of her pubic mound revealed that it was time to trim it into shape once again, or... Julie giggled devilishly.
Now shaven and waxed Julie admired the result of her work; a mound so smooth if a little red from the waxing. With undeniable self-restraint she restricted her fingers to stroking the smoothness before searching the cabinet that held makeup and various medicaments for all those girlie times. And yes, there they were the vajazzles she had bought on a whim and used once.
Choosing a flower pattern in gold with a green stem she sat on the stool, legs apart and peeled the bright decoration from its backing paper. It amused her to place the stem of the flower so it pointed at the start of her cleft, the flower covering her freshly denuded pubic mound.
Favourite perfume dabbed where it mattered she headed for the bedroom and choose a light floral skirt and a tight, plain tee-shirt. No bra needed, besides, the thin tee would allow her nipples to display provocatively. Julie placed a tiny thong on the bed for when Dirk arrived, not wanting to risk the garment brushing the vajazzles off. Would that young man get one hell of a surprise... it might even prompt a reaction.
Julie checked the clock – it was way past the time when Dirk should have been calling. If he didn’t arrive soon she would have to please herself but she didn’t want to be too obvious that she had been masturbating when he lifted her skirt to sample her pussy.
Julie threw herself at the bed. Anger surpassed her high level of frustration. Anger so intense that the thought of pleasing herself seemed almost anathema to her.
“What the f...”, some idiot was trying to hammer down her front door.
Julie tried to focus on the digits on the bedside digital clock. It couldn’t be – ‘6:30’ - it glared back at her for doubting its ability and accuracy. She grabbed at the garment at the foot of the bed and pulled in on wrapping it around her body. A shake of the head failed to clear the fuzz in her brain.
“I’m coming!” she yelled at the door. To nobody in particular, ‘shit have patience, will you?’
As she pulled open the door a spectre appeared at her side – in a mirror a wild haired woman with last night’s makeup and hair that resembled some overgrown bush in her garden. And half naked! She had pulled on not a robe but a gossamer negligee.
Too late by far Julie tried to stop the heavy door that now bourn on the energy that she had imparted by pulling it hard in her anger. It brushed off her feeble attempt with contempt and continued to open fully.
Her “eek” seemed somewhat ineffectual.
Most certainly it must have to the young man leering at her from the door step.
Julie’s follow up of “Oh” offered little to reinforce her earlier squeak.
How is it, thought Julie that just sometimes a minuscule moment appears to last forever? And how is it that in that minuscule moment so much can happen yet nothing is controllable?
Desperate now, Julie tried to turn and retrace her steps back to the sanctity of... anywhere but right there. But, somebody had pressed the ‘slo-mo’ button and had spread her path to safety with something viscous that held back her feet.
That was the nearest to emotion that Dirk had ever displayed. His eyes sparkled still even although the woman standing before him was at least clothed in a robe and her hair looked a tad more in place and controlled.
The pair stood feet apart staring into the other’s eyes, each waiting for the other to break the highly charged silence.
Dirk was, as ever, dressed in the loose jogger pants which, for support, clung to his bony hips. A reasonably fresh tee-shirt hung from his broad shoulders. To Julie, knowing what the pants covered, he could have dressed in anything at all.
The sight of him renewed her desire. The desire to experience that intriguing falcate phallus.
At the very same time as Dirk said “My tool bag?”..
Julie said, far more quietly, “Drop them.”
She registered his demand but far more slowly than Dirk registered her command. In an instant they were just a pile of scruffy fabric at his feet. Then, with a kick the jogger pants lay untidily in an inconsequential heap.
Almost flaccid his penis seemed to have lost its curve but Julie had seen it and knew that it was now up to her to see that it returned.
At last it was hers, in her grasp, her fingers curled around its girth and it felt good, not too thin at all, just not as fat as some those fingers had gripped and caressed.
Raising her eyes from their initial, grateful appraisal of the phallus Julie looked into the eyes of this young man. Astonishingly, other than a self-satisfied grin and a sparkle in his green eyes he showed little emotion. Thankfully his flesh hardening in her hand betrayed that his body knew just how to express itself. For a man of his age Dirk he controlled his sexual emotions. Arms still hung by his side. Unlike the lads of eighteen and nineteen that she had known who would have acted more like an octopus in Dirk’s position.
A tug from Julie’s unstill hand had Dirk take a step nearer causing him to look down at the girl next to him. Harder he became and with the hardness came length and thickness. Her fingers loosen by a tiny amount to allow her to stroke the flesh from tip to red-haired base. Now it was curved!
A thin finger took and lifted her chin until her head was tilted back causing her lips to part. Then his mouth was on hers, his tongue taking pleasure from its exploration of her full and now puffy lips.
His tee-shirt was quickly over his head and joined its partner garment on the floor. Julie returned her hand to his penis, her other arm crooked around his neck pulling his mouth back to hers. Not yet had Dirk’s hands made demands of her robe let alone her body.
It was an instruction that Julie was happy to interpret as an instruction from the young man that she was more than willing to comply with. After a couple of steps Dirk stopped and unwrapped her grasping fingers from his penis so that he was able to walk easily. With a slap on her rear, he pushed her forward.
At her unmade bed he stopped her holding her standing at the foot facing it. He made a clicking sound with his tongue at the state of the bed as she had left it not too many minutes earlier. Julie giggled. Tugging at the collar Dirk pulled the robe from the girl’s shoulders and kissed her exposed back before dropping the garment to the floor.
“Wow”, was his expression of appreciation of the vision of her small naked body He pressed his hardness at her rear which she wiggled in anticipation.
Dirk snuggled his mouth past her long hair and kissed her neck, reaching around her to cup her small breasts which he caressed for but a moment before running his palms down over her ribs and down over her waist.
Dirk released her then quickly took her shoulders and turned her to face him. Their bodies melded as he hugged her to him, her breasts firm against his ribs, his curved cock exploring her belly. His mouth sought and found that which reached up from her upturned face. No subtleties now just raw emotion, raw desire expressed in the attack of lips on lips, tongues dancing an erotic pas-de-deux. Julie clung to the young man’s neck, he in turn pulled her hot body to his, his meat now as hard as ever it had been, he had not dared to hope that this woman would be as now his wild cougar that he would tame.
Julie’s taming was to include, although she would not have even dreamed it could happen, the discovery of her own G-spot and that for the first time, but never the last, she was able to squirt.
Please let me know your reaction below, thank you, Jenni.