by T. S. Ryder
The next day, when he didn’t show up to class for the project, I got curious. I decided to give him a visit. I could say it was for the project or that I was worried about his health. I got his number and address from one of his friends, Jacob, when I found him alone. I know, I know I said I wouldn’t, but the project thing is not entirely an excuse. I have a GPA to worry about if I am to get somewhere in life.
It was almost evening when I reached home. For some reason, I wanted to look good. It’s not that I have a crush or anything on Harrod — I just wanted to look good in that way girls want to look good around guys. And Harrod didn’t really seem like a bad guy, unlike his friends who were snobbish jerks. But then I barely knew him. I took a cold shower, braided my curly hair and tied it into a knot. I slid into a gray, knee-length skirt, which I paired with a white blouse, a white pearl necklace, classic, black pumps and a cream cardigan, which covered my plump derriere. I know what I sound like, but that’s how my mom dresses and that’s how she taught me to dress. I looked fine, my face didn’t betray me: subtle makeup, pearl earrings, no lipstick. I was going to surprise him.
I asked my mother if I could have the driver. She agreed, without asking me where I was going. So I headed towards where Harrod lived, uninvited. This would all be a huge waste of time if he wasn’t home, but he was so sick yesterday and missed university today, so I was sure he’d be home. On the way to his place, we were stopped at the start of the road that led to his house. There was a checkpoint, and an officer walked over. I rolled down the window.
“Ma’am, do you have a pass?”
“No,” I replied.
“I am sorry, you need to have prior clearance to go beyond this point.”
“I am here to see Harrod. Harrod Ford.”
“What’s your name and the purpose of your visit?”
“I’m Siobhan. Like I said, I want to see Harrod.”
The officer whispered into his walkie-talkie and signaled another officer. “I need to see your ID.”
I handed him my ID and he walked away with it. He returned after above five minutes and gave back my ID. “You are cleared to go,” he told me, then turned to the driver. “Stick to the main road. Once you reach the residence, wait for clearance outside the gate.” He nodded and stepped back as the car lurched forward.
I knew Harrod was super rich, and I did expect him to live in a mansion, but I gawked when the car stopped outside the gates and I waited for clearance. This wasn’t just a mansion, it was the mother of mansions. He lived in a mini-freaking-city. There were roads inside the gate! A guard directed us to stop in front of the stairs that led to the house. Once I got out, I was greeted by a butler, who took me to the drawing room.
“Wait here,” he told me. “Mr. Harrod will be here shortly.”
“Actually, I was wondering if you could take me to his room. I know he isn’t well, so I don’t want to get into all the formalities and all. I just want to see him, then I’ll let him rest. I am sure he won’t mind.”
“If you insist,” he replied. “Follow me.”
The mansion had really high ceilings, like a museum. Tall, stone columns lined the corridor. My heart was thumping. The butler left me outside Harrod’s room. Once he was out of sight, I went in. I caught him just as he was pulling up his pants.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I should have knocked. I got so nervous.”
“It’s okay,” he said, as he zipped up his pants. “Come on in, have a seat. Sorry my room’s a mess.”
He was shirtless and looked like Tarzan. As he got up, he seemed way taller than he usually appeared, but that was probably because I had never stood that close to him. He was easily 6’7. His body was lined with muscles that you normally only see in magazines. A flat stomach, biceps, triceps, six-pack, pecs, Hugh Jackman-like thighs and what not. I had always thought he was just ‘large.’ There was a stipple of black hairs on his arms, a light peppering of it on his chest and a thin line of hair which ran down his stomach into his pants. I mean, he never came to university in those sleeveless shirts that other buffs did, and he never showed off his body. But, my god, was he gorgeous! Medium length black hair, messed up, fell to his sides. I have had the hots for guys with chiseled jaws, but his entire face was chiseled. Square-ish, strong sides formed a sexy chin. His light beard was sparse in the mustache area, giving him the Wolverine look. His eyes were deep set, cold and blue as ice. His nose accentuated his features. It wasn’t very thin, not like the nose of a singer or a movie guy. It was average, erect and strong. This was all in stark contrast to how I had always seen him in university. He dressed modestly and formally, although always in branded clothes, and with a slick hairstyle and shaved or trimmed beard. It really minimized his looks.
“You look like crap,” I said quickly. I hoped he hadn’t seen me eyeing him up.
“Thanks,” he said, extending his hand. “You look pretty fucked up yourself. Welcome to my humble abode.”
When I shook his hand, it felt really nice. If you knew me, you would know that I don’t suck up to guys or drool over them or any of that crazy desperate stuff, but I did something like that anyway, just this once. I went on and gave him a hug.
“I was worried about you,” I said, pulling back quickly as his hand went from the small of my back to my hips.
“Why? You barely looked at me yesterday.”
“Well, you were all sick yesterday and you didn’t show up to class today. Besides, I need to get into a good university for my Ph.D. and for that I need good grades; and to get good grades, I need my project partner.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, scratching his head. “I have just had a lot on my…I have just been sick.”
“Safe to assume you saw a doctor?”
“Yeah, I did. He said it’s nothing.”
“What? It wasn’t nothing yester—”
“So, what do you wanna do?” he interrupted. He wanted to change the topic, so I didn't push.
I saw him looking at me. He was definitely checking me out. Was he interested in me? I was about to find out.
“Oh,” I said. “I just came to check on you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Since you appear fine, I guess I should head back.”
“No, Siobhan, stay! Please.”
“My mom’s going to need her car back. I can’t stay long.” This bit was true.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll send your car back now and my driver will drop you later.”
“Are you sure?” Now I really wanted to stay. He was genuinely nice. “I don’t wanna be a burden.”
“Oh, hell, no,” he said, in a husky voice. “Not at all.” Then he went out and shouted, “Gabe!”
When his butler came, he told him to send my driver back. And now I felt stupid. There weren’t any other people in the mansion, at least none that I had seen so far, and anything could happen. Doesn’t this sound like the kind of situation where girls get drugged and raped?
When he returned, he stood in the doorway. “I’ve asked Gabe to set dinner for two. You will join me, yes?”
He looked uncertain when he asked me this, almost boyish.
“You are not telling me you live here all alone, are you?”
“No,” he said. “I live with my dad. But he’s not always home for dinner, so I have to eat alone. Would you do me the honor of joining me tonight?” he asked, putting his hand forward again.
“Yes,” I said, taking his hand. He spun me around, pulled me close to him, then pushed me onto his arm to kiss me, but I turned my face. He kissed me on the cheek anyway.
“What was that for?”
“For being a good friend,” he said.
“Okay,” I replied.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me, you’ve got the look. Just spill it out. I won’t bite, I promise.”
“Look,” I began. “I am here as a friend, that’s all. I don’t want you to get any ideas. By the way, my mom’s a senator.”
>
He laughed scornfully. “Why, did you think I was gonna rape you or something?”
“No, of course not. I just…had to put it out there.”
“I do know all about your mom, though. I’ve seen her file.”
“What file?”
“The place where my dad works, they have a file on all government officials.”
“Ah,” I said, as I put the dots together.
I sat on the bed as he put on a shirt, rolled up his sleeves to the elbows and buttoned it up. Then he turned to me. “Listen, Siobhan, I may not know how to say your name right, but I’m not an asshole. I know you won’t believe me, and you have some preconceived notions about me, but trust me, I’m not a bad guy. Let’s not turn what we have into another Pride & Prejudice.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “What do we have?”
“Come on, don’t pretend like you don’t know. I saw you checking me out.” Crikey, he did see me! But why did he say ‘what we have’ like we had something? We had nothing. I don’t date guys like him.
“I really don’t know what you are talking about,” I stated, flat as a robot.
“Really?” He gave me a knowing look. “It’s alright if you aren’t interested. I won’t push it, then. I thought we had something, but maybe I was wrong. Fine with me.”
Crap, I’ve already screwed up. Why does it always take me so long to understand things?
“I didn’t say we don’t have anything,” I say. “I mean…we could have something. But you’re gonna have to show me that you mean it, because trust me, I am not going to satisfy your whims. I am not the type of girl you can have just because you’re a rich boy who gets everything he wants.”
“Rich boy, seriously, you’re bringing that into this?”
“I think I should leave,” I say. “I am ruining things. I suck at this.”
“You’re fine,” he laughs, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Come on, have dinner with me. We’ll take things as we go. Don’t read too much into everything.”
“Okay,” I say, and follow him to the dining room.
Chapter Five - The Walk Under The Moonless Sky
Harrod
I won’t bore you with the dinner details, and it wasn’t a dinner anyway. That’s just what I had to tell Siobhan so I could get a date with her. She wouldn’t have agreed if I had asked her outright. She was a beautiful girl, but I knew her beauty wasn’t limited to her looks. During the dinner, I found out more about the person she was, and it was every bit as lovely as her face.
There was modesty in everything she did, from the way she dressed to the way she talked. She had great self-control and discipline, qualities that are rare in my circle. She was exactly the woman that my dad would approve of. Her big brown eyes were surrounded by long lashes, which drooped halfway after two glasses of wine and reflected the candlelight. She had a small mouth, her lips were pink and her nose was like that of a baby. She carried herself with simplicity. What attracted me to her, even more, was how she thought of herself as an ordinary girl, in spite of having a congresswoman as her mother. Usually, these things go to people’s heads, but she wanted to do something on her own.
After dinner, we went for a walk out in the gardens, under the cloudy sky. She had relaxed by then. I grabbed her hand and intertwined my fingers with hers. She was laughing now, giggling, a semi-smile fixed on her face. She had left her sweater in the dining room – exposing her curves from the front and back – and was shivering a bit. I pulled her close, putting an arm around her.
“You are warm,” she said after a while, nuzzling against me, wrapping her arm around my back. Her skin smelled of strawberries and was soft to the touch. She kicked her heels off and left them behind. “Dang, I can’t walk in these.”
“Why do you wear them then?” I asked.
“I’d be a midget next to you without them,” she said. “Besides, they make my hips look smaller,” she added, a little self-consciously.
“It wouldn’t make me like you any less if they looked bigger.” I kissed her head, rubbing my nose in her hair, taking in her feminine scent, reaching for her plump ass. Her ass did look bigger, almost swollen, now that her heels were off.
“Jesus, the grass feels so good under my feet. The earth is so soft. I can’t remember the last time I did this.”
“You should come here more often, then.”
“I just might,” she said, skipping three steps ahead of me. I caught her from behind and pulled her close, my hands under her heavy bosom. “This seems like a great place to unwind.”
“You bet.”
We were quite a distance from my home when it started drizzling silently. We ran and found refuge under a tree. I sat with my back against it and she sat next to me, shivering violently now.
“You’re barely wet,” I said.
She got up and walked under the large bough, then turned toward me.
“I am totally dry,” she said sarcastically, with mocking laughter.
Her bare arms glistened in the faint light. The rainwater sprayed sparsely through the leaves. Her blouse was totally wet from the front, pressed tightly against her big boobs. I could see her nipples, her tits perked up, peeking out from her now see-through top. She rubbed her hand on her arm as a shiver ran through her.
“Come here,” I said, taking her hand and pulling her close.
She hugged me tightly. “God, I’m freezing,” she whispered through chattering teeth, her eyes closed. In the serenity of the moment, I closed my eyes and found her lips with mine. I kissed her lightly, a mere peck on the lips. Then I kissed her more romantically, my tongue pushing into her mouth slowly. She didn’t resist. I pushed my hand up her shirt, traced her spine with my finger, pushed into her skirt and grabbed her plump, soft ass. She didn’t stop me.
“Siobhan,” I whispered into her ear, knowing it would turn her on. “If you don’t want to—”
She pushed me back and raised her arms. “Help me get out of this, I’m cold.” Now she was playing the game. I pulled her shirt off and she took off everything else. She turned around for me to unbuckle her brassiere, and doffed it off as soon as I did. Then she turned to me with the smarmy smile of a seductress. I tossed my shirt off and shucked my jeans. I hadn’t had time to put on boxers. I pulled her close, her large breasts pressing into me.
“My body is taking heat from yours—” she began, but I interrupted the science lecture.
“Your body is about to take a lot from me.”
“Is that so, big boy,” she said, daring me.
But she was cold and I wanted her to get comfortable first. I sat again, my back against the tree, and pulled her between my thighs. Her cold back pushed against my chest and my cock was pointing straight up, sandwiched between my stomach and the cheeks of her large ass. I wrapped my arms around her, cradling her pair of Double Ds; I cupped each in my hands, my fingers massaging her softness, my thumbs toying with her horny tits.
It’s partially true when they say men think with their dicks, because right now all my blood was rushing down to my love stick. I pulled her closer, sandwiching my sausage tighter.
She turned back her head and whispered, “I can feel it, you know.” She didn’t meet my gaze.
“What can you feel, Siobhan?”
“I can feel your…” she trailed off. Her pale cheeks turned pink as she blushed, shy. I knew she was talking about my cock, but I wanted her to say it. That would turn me on even more. But I knew she wouldn’t. She was too modest and prudish for that.
“You know what I can feel,” I whispered, pushing my hand down to her glans.
“Mm-hmm.”
“I can feel your pussy, Siobhan. I can feel your flesh, tight and ready to be fucked.”
“You wanna do it now?” she asked, her voice slightly unsure.
“Do what, Siobhan? I love foreplay and talking dirty.”
“Mmhmm.”
I turned her around to face me, sat her on my thighs and pulled her
close, my rod between our stomachs now. I sucked on the soft skin of her neck, ran my tongue along her collar bone.
“Tell me,” I said, biting her ear, flicking my tongue into its creases. “When was the last time you got fucked? When did you last take it up your curvaceous ass?”
“I…” she hesitated. “I’m a virgin, Harrod.”
Chapter Six - On The Grass, Under The Tree
Harrod
I massage her back gently, my fingers pressing into the smooth skin of her neck. I don’t know how to proceed with this buxom beauty. What does she want me to do? Her head is on my shoulder, her rising and falling stomach stroking my cock softly. The rain is pouring hard now, the clouds thundering.
“Siobhan,” I say, pushing her back on my knees, looking into her big, brown eyes. “You wanna do this?”
She avoids eye contact and gets off me, then kneels between my legs and takes my cock in her small hands. She strokes it softly with one hand, the other pressed against my stomach.
“Easy there,” I say, as she pulls down, stretching my foreskin. Her face is filled with desire, her eyes unsure. I put my hand over hers and guide it. “This is how you do it.”
“You want me to…” She looks at me.
“Do whatever you want,” I say.
She goes lower, my cock still in her hand, and opens her small mouth. She takes the tip in her mouth uncertainly, and I feel her tongue taste my skin. She strokes the shaft with her hand and begins sucking, making a moaning sound, humming. She tries to take it in deep, but the head of my cock is too big for her throat. I try to push in lightly, but it doesn’t go in any more than 3 inches.
She stops, looks up, kisses me, her hands around my shoulders, and then gets back on her back. I climb on top and bury my face in her well-endowed tits. I want her first time to be good. I want her to remember it for the rest of her life. I knead her tits with my hand, sucking on the other one, switching now and again, giving equal attention to both her tits. Kissing her on the mouth, I lick her from her chin to her navel, my tongue pushing. She lets out a small laugh. “It tickles,” she says.
