by Alexis Shore
And lower, the downy hair had grown back to its usual form.
Seeing it gave her an overwhelming urge.
Within moments she was back in the bathroom, running the faucet over her hand, gauging and tweaking until it was just the right temperature. Satisfied, she reached in and tossed the pregnancy test stick into the bin, then climbed into the bath.
The cold porcelain pressed into the flesh of her buttocks and back, and she slipped herself into position. With legs spread wide, she let the heavy water cascade and dance over her pussy. The immediacy of her arousal was fantastic, so much so that she swore loudly, hearing her ‘fuck’ echo around the tiled walls.
She gripped the faucet with both hands and angled herself better, loving the epic sensation of water massaging all over her swollen bud.
Rachael came.
Then came again.
The absolute abandon made her let go for a third time.
With unsteady legs, and no desire to dry herself off, she wobbled back to the bed and collapsed on to it, immediately passing out.
When she awoke, the afternoon had gone, and it was time to head out into the snow.
The warmth of her doctor’s surgery was a blessed relief, as was the complete lack of other patients sitting in the dilapidated waiting room. There wasn’t even a need to thumb through six-month-old magazines.
The speed was dizzying. Unless it was the blood test that had made her woozy.
Rachael barely took in everything that was said as the needle drained it away, and only really heard that the results would be in on Monday.
Christ, a whole weekend more of not knowing for certain.
So when she rang Sheena’s bell, there was a fuggy cloud about her that Rachael just couldn’t shake. The footsteps ascending the stairs seemed so distant, and when Sheena opened the door, it took Rachael a moment to realise she was wearing lingerie.
This wasn’t the right time for a visit.
Mike stepped in to the vestibule. Rachael knew Sheena wouldn’t want to see him, and in an instant gathered herself. With some insistence, she stepped into Sheena’s hallway and said, “Have you seen him yet?”
“Who?” Sheena seemed slightly taken aback at the intrusion, but it was too late now.
“The new guy in 3B?” Rachael followed her down the hallway, unable to keep her eyes from Sheena’s satin clad buttocks. They moved so well and were surprisingly alluring beneath that robe.
They sat down on the sofa.
“I saw his stuff being manhandled when I left this morning. Why?”
Rachael had no real answer to that, and there was no way she was going to admit she’d barged in to save Sheena from a slightly awkward encounter with an ex. So she shrugged, then covered by tying her hair back. She’d had it down as a barrier to the cold wind.
Thus, the offer of a piping hot cup of tea was difficult to resist. But Sheena’s outfit told her this was a really bad time. And the sly grin on her face belied the fact that she was on a promise.
Rachael flicked her gaze inadvertently to Sheena’s boobs. They looked so swollen and supple beneath the chemise. Her nipples made themselves known with some vehemence, and for the briefest of moments, Rachael wondered how they would feel in her own mouth.
She shook the unexpected image from her mind. “That’s a bit risqué.” Goodness, there was a little croak in her voice as she said it.
And Sheena lied. Blatantly. Making something up about it being the only thing she had left to wear.
Rachael really didn’t want to be here anymore. It was selfish to just turn up to unburden herself like this, especially when her friend was so obviously excited about her date night.
With a babbled excuse, she got to her feet and headed for the door.
“You have great tits.” Rachael flushed the moment she heard herself say it, but couldn’t stop from adding, “Look at them. Show them off some more.”
She nearly found herself reaching out for them too. What the fuck? Where the hell had that come from? The whole day had thrown her askance. Befuddled and bewildered, she wandered across the vestibule and let herself into her own flat.
The moment the door clicked shut, and she leant back into it, the cocoon of her home embraced her, and she began to feel the last hour and a half draining away.
And suddenly she felt very hungry indeed. Yes, preparing a meal might help keep her mind from things. It did for a while, but as she sat at the table eating it alone, the stark reality of raising a child all by herself hit hard.
Rachael rarely cried, but at that moment, she sobbed.
Her fork clattered down onto the plate, and she had an overwhelming urge to talk to Harry.
But she didn’t.
It would be unfair to burden him with it before she knew for certain. The tension of the whole day had made her head heavy with tiredness, and the prospect of unconsciousness was suddenly incredibly appealing.
Ignoring the dirty dishes, she headed straight to bed.
But sleep was irksomely evasive again. And as the smooth sheets tickled at her naked body, Rachael remembered that the only thing that had got her off before was getting off.
With no real desire to do so, she slipped her hand down between her legs. The gentle teasing of finger against clit slowly, so slowly, began to do the job. Her pussy lips grew creamier with each passing moment, and she used her own wetness to massage under her hood.
Once more, the focus of her attention centred firmly on her bud. She held it softly between her finger and thumb and ever so gently rolled it from side to side. That always did the trick, and she whispered a quiet prayer, before slipping two fingers in as deep as they would go.
Her legs spread wider under the covers, and her free hand found her breast. Her nipples were always so much more sensitive when something was inside her.
As she revelled in the pleasure, a string of vivid images danced for attention in her mind. Flashes of Sheena in her satin chemise. Imagined nuzzling of those tits. Squeezing fingers into her ass cheeks. And then, to the forefront came Harry’s cock, sliding into her eager mouth, fucking her face so wonderfully.
As her orgasm faded slowly, she finally gave in to sleep.
A deep, dreamless sleep, which was only interrupted by the insistent chirping of the alarm clock. It beeped incessantly for a long time before it finally roused Rachael, and it took a lot of effort to reach out and hit it.
A delicious silence.
Then the memories of the past two days began rushing back.
Rachael hoped a day at the office would do her good. But after that, she still had the whole weekend to get through.
Breakfast. Shower. Another cup of tea.
Just take each thing as it came. That was the motto for the next few days.
Get dressed. Coat on. Shoes on.
Open door.
As always though, she took a peek through the hole before opening it. It was a habit that she’d formed, though she had no idea when or why.
Sheena was coming out of her flat.
Ordinarily, Rachael would step out and wander down with her, but the sudden memory of her fantasies made her embarrassed to do so now. She even felt her cheeks flushing in shame.
But as soon as her friend was gone, she had to brave the world.
The moment she opened up, she saw Mike’s door opposite opening too. She suspected he’d been doing just what she was doing, peeping out and avoiding Sheena.
But he gave that stupid gormless smile of his, the one that framed his unkempt teeth. She acknowledged it with nothing more than a polite curl of the mouth.
And when he held the door open for her, she trotted past him quickly, afraid he might take a sneaky stroke of her ass as she went by.
Annoyingly, he stopped to get his mail too, making no effort to hide his lascivious staring.
And then the bastard winked.
He actually winked.
It sent a creepy shiver down her spine, and it was all she could do to roll her
eyes at him.
Gathering up her post without looking, she crossed to the door, and struggling with its weight, she slipped on the wet tiles.
Fucking weather.
And that weather hit her hard in the face the moment she stepped outside. Rummaging through her letters, she hadn’t really expected to find one with her results, but it annoyed her nonetheless by its absence.
There was an ornate envelope though which intrigued her.
As the snow stung at her face, she tore it open and pulled out the contents.
An elegant card invited her to 3B that evening.
Seven
Peter loved to stare at falling snow, especially during the night. Watching the white fluffy kaleidoscope allowed his mind to wander elsewhere, a mental freedom he so enjoyed.
Free from restraint, it was liberating to give vent to frustration at the imaginary visage of real people, to be able to scoff at a stupid remark without being rude, to be able to rant at his stupid boss without repercussion.
God Caroline was stupid, and she’d been particularly annoying today. Peter stroked his finger across his tongue, feeling the minor damage where he’d literally had to bite it to stop from retorting.
He used to stand up for himself. A smile grew on his face as he remembered standing knee deep in the snow, stoically refusing to come inside, much to his mother’s screaming annoyance. What had happened to that independent and headstrong child?
Peter sighed, watching his breath coat the window pane. Maybe tomorrow he’d stand up to Caroline.
Maybe.
He climbed into bed and snuggled warmly beneath the covers. As always, his hand automatically cupped his balls, rolling them slowly, almost comfortingly with his fingers. A thought tickled at his mind, soon becoming too insistent to ignore.
In the dark he reached out for his mobile phone, and tapped out a simple text message. Once it was sent, he rolled on to his side and drifted quickly into a contented sleep.
His mood was much the same in the morning, standing in the billowing steam and heavy flow of the shower, frothing and lathering his hair. What there was of it. He let the jet of water massage his pot belly, then rubbed the gel into his pubic hair. For a brief moment he considered having a play with his cock, but decided against it.
After a long drink of orange juice and bowl of Sugar Puffs, he tightened his tie around his slightly chubby neck, pulled on his woollen overcoat and headed out of the door.
Across the way in the vestibule Mike’s door opened, and out stepped his red-headed girlfriend Neve. As always, they avoided one another’s gaze, both pretending to be more interested in the boxes being moved in to 3B. But as he followed her down the stairs, he took a moment to enjoy the shape and movement of her ass. She was still checking messages on her phone as they stepped out into the morning snow and headed off in different directions.
Peter liked that they never spoke nor acknowledged one another when they met of a morning on their way out like this. One of the games people play, he supposed. Everyone he passed on the way to work was engaged in some sort of game, he was sure of it.
He settled at his desk and looked out through the glass partition at the rank and file of the call centre. Idiots, most of them. One or two were bearable, but that was it. It was a constant bane having to nanny them through their days.
Peter made himself look busy. One of the benefits of his new promotion was that he had much less work to do. And his internet connection was no longer monitored like it was out in the pen. He checked his email, looked at Facebook and Twitter and had a wander round Amazon, adding items to his wish lists.
Before he knew it, it was eleven o’clock and time for a coffee.
He always dropped his guard in the break room, slipping into casual conversations with his underlings, which is why he barely noticed Caroline hovering in the doorway. And when he finally did see her, he gave her a non-committal smile.
“Can I have a word?” she asked softly, but with some firmness in her voice.
“Sure,” he shrugged, standing there, sipping his coffee, and taking a quick peek at her cleavage. She had no qualms about showing it off.
“You owe me your weekly stats analysis.”
“Okay.”
“No, not okay.” She nearly hissed, the melodramatic cow. “This is the third time in a row that you’ve been late.”
Peter smiled, looking about to make sure no-one was watching, but some eyes were on them.
“I’ll do it,” he whispered covertly.
“You better had,” she said loud enough for the whole room to hear.
Then she left.
How dare she?
In front of everyone.
Sanctimonious bitch.
He sat down at his desk with some force. Undermining him in front of his staff like that was reprehensible.
Peter snatched at his smartphone, poking at the screen so hard it hurt his finger. It rang three times before it was answered.
“Yes?”
“Are you in your office?” he asked firmly.
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, but the door’s open.”
God he loved her accent.
“Open your legs.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Fine, I’ll phone someone else instead.”
“Alright, sorry. They’re open.”
“No, they’re not, you’re lying.”
“They’re open, I promise.” Her voice had dropped in volume, and there was a slight tremor to it now. She was being honest.
“Finger yourself.”
“I can’t.”
“Finger. Yourself.”
He heard a tiny whimper and the familiar little moan of contentment as her finger obviously quickly found the spot.
“Good girl.” He reached down and massaged the swollen bulge in his own lap. “Pull your panties to one side and push two fingers in.”
“I’m not wet enough,” she protested quietly.
“Yes you are, you little whore.”
“Aaaah,” she exhaled, and he imagined how wet she must already be.
His fingers tugged open his fly and he fished out his solid prick, slowly pumping it in his fist under the desk.
“Now,” he began.
“Shit, I’ve got to go.”
The line went dead, and he swore in frustration. It actually hurt to push his cock back into his trousers, and he had to sit at an awkward angle to ease the pain a little.
He stared at his phone for a long time, weighing up his options, but couldn’t come to a decision.
So instead, he let it fester in his mind as he got to work on the stupid stats report. It was all bullshit anyway. And it wasted a couple of hours before lunch. As he emailed it across to Caroline, resisting the urge to write a sarcastic quip in the message, he picked up the phone again.
