← Back
Priya’s flat was above a launderette, warm and cluttered, fairy lights round the window and a grumpy grey cat on the sofa. She shooed the cat off, poured two big glasses of red and pushed me down onto the cushions.
“Stay there,” she said.
She put on music. She dimmed the lamp. Then she took off her cardigan and jeans and danced for me in her plain black underwear, barefoot on the rug, and it was a hundred times sexier than anything she’d done at the club.
“No camera,” she said, climbing into my lap. “No Dez. No rules.”
I put my hands on her. Everywhere. Her waist, her arse, her full soft tits as she unhooked her bra and pressed them into my face. I sucked her nipple into my mouth and she moaned and ground down harder.
Then she slid off my lap onto her knees between my legs.
“Always wanted to finish one of these properly,” she said, and unbuckled my belt.
She sucked me slowly, deep and wet, her dark eyes on mine the whole time, one hand stroking the base. When I warned her I was close, she just hummed and took me deeper, and I came in her mouth with my hands in her hair.
She swallowed, wiped her lips and grinned.
“That’s all you get tonight,” she said, curling up against me. “I’m wrecked. But you can stay on the sofa.”
I fell asleep with the cat on my feet and her head on my chest. Sometime before dawn she slipped off to her own bed and left the door open.
→ In the morning, I make her coffee and take it to her in bed