Dessert

by Lily Harlem

She upped the speed, deepened the welcoming entrance of her throat.

  I was far from inexperienced when it came to receiving blowjobs, I had been a lucky guy over the years, but Jesus, this was something else. This blew every other suck-off out of the water.

  The glorious tingle at the base of my dick told me I was there. There was no turning back. I gulped in a breath and shut my eyes. Bright lights exploded behind my lids. The tingles became an electric whip of sensations, surging up my shaft. Wondrous beats of release poured from me in gratifying pulses.

  My copious wet heat mixed with hers and still her head bobbed—she didn’t change pace or jar at the sudden filling of her throat. On and on she sucked and swallowed, 23

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  drawing out every last throb of my orgasm. It was excruciating bliss, an agony of ecstasy.

  “Please,” I gasped. “I can’t…” It was too much. Never before had I been given a blowjob by a stranger, never before had oral sex made my entire body buckle or my cock become so sensitive before, during and after climax.

  As if sensing my desperation, she slowly lifted her head. Her withdrawing lips made my body jerk then sag. She caught my spent dick in her hand, kissed it tenderly, as if soothing it, paying extra attention to the tip and my swollen slit.

  I wanted to pull her up. Hold her tiny, naked body close to mine. Thank her for the wonderful thing she had just done and make her come with the same intensity. But I didn’t, I just sat there gasping for breath and hoping that at the height of my climax I hadn’t shouted out and disturbed other patrons of The Geisha Plate.

  Finally, she broke away and stood.

  Her body was lithe and agile in the small space, mine big and cumbersome, I was hot and panting for breath.

  Heart hammering, I looked at her face. Her lipstick, so perfect and precise before, was hopelessly smudged, as was her chalky makeup, which now revealed the tan skin of her face. Her eyes shone. Was it approval of me or the satisfaction of a job well done?

  I couldn’t be sure.

  My mushed brain kicked back into gear. Hastily I tucked my softening cock away, shifting on the cushions and muttering when my knee knocked the table and my zipper proved fiddly.

  She licked her lips and watched my movements and damn if my dick didn’t twitch with renewed arousal at the sight of her soft body and stiff nipples.

  “I will send you in green tea,” she said quietly, “for you to enjoy before your journey home.”

  Green tea?

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  My mind whirred. We had just shared an intimate experience and I was being seen off with green-fucking-tea?

  “But, I—what is your name?” I asked.

  She clasped her hands near her navel and gave a small bow. “Good night, Mr.

  Alan.”

  “But, I…Please…”

  She slipped between the curtains in a swift, silent movement. If it hadn’t been for the dampness in my pants and the sated weight in my groin, I could have almost believed that my dessert had been a delicious dream.

  The trouble was dessert felt more like a starter. The start of something I really wanted to finish with my beautiful Geisha girl. Not that I was under any illusion she would fall into my bed and let me explore all the ways I could make her come with my tongue. But I at least wanted to know her name, and believe it or not, I also wanted to see her with clothes on. Get to know her a little. Such swift, anonymous sex, fantastic as it had been, was not really my style. I wanted to feel a female body pressed against mine all night. Breathe in the sweet scent of skin and hair, be warmed by fragile limbs and gentle curves.

  After sipping half of the vile green tea, I exited the restaurant. The girl on the front desk bowed solemnly. If she knew what I’d just experienced she gave no hint of it.

  I stepped outside. The night air was warm and the street still busy with late-night pub goers, taxis and buses.

  The thought of home didn’t appeal. The thought of hanging around for my unusual dinner companion did.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and wandered down the alley between the restaurant and the next building—what looked to be an electrical shop, closed, with metal grates over the windows.

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  The alley smelled of rancid food—the heat of the day had obviously taken its toll on the long row of wheelie bins. There were several anonymous doors. No windows, letterboxes or handles, just locks. I figured some of them went into The Geisha Plate.

  My foot slid on something slimy. I didn’t lose my balance but it was enough to create a ball of disgust in my stomach. I decided not to head farther into the blackness and wandered back to the entrance of the alley. I leaned my shoulders against the gritty wall and kept just in the shadows. I would wait for her here. I’m a patient guy when I really want something.

  A group of young men passed close. They didn’t notice me. Their loud conversation was raucous and excitable. Playful punches were being thrown. A couple, his arm thrown over her shoulder, stepped out of their way. I rested my foot on the wall, knee bent, and watched bouncers in the bar opposite turn away the men who’d just shaved past me. The gang weren’t impressed but when a police car crawled down the street they moved on.

  I sensed movement to my right, glanced down the alley. From the shadows a small figure appeared. Slight shoulders, narrow, elegant neck, silent footsteps.

  I pushed away from the wall, hoping it was my girl.

  A stream of amber from a streetlamp crossed her face.

  It’s her.

  “Fucking hell,” she gasped, widening her eyes as she clasped a hand to her chest.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Sorry,” I said, suddenly realizing that lurking in the darkness waiting for her hadn’t been the smartest move I’d ever made. “I, er, just wanted to say hi. See if you wanted someone to walk you home.”

  “Not some guy who jumps out of alleys at me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again, spreading my palms and holding them up in a gesture I hoped would show I meant her no harm. “I just was keeping out of the way, not 26

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  drawing attention to myself. It was starting to kick off over there.” I tipped my head toward the bar across the street.

  She stepped up to me, then past me. Her hair was piled on top of her head. She wore a black sweater, skintight jeans and tiny flat shoes. She looked incredibly young, incredibly vulnerable to be walking alone on the streets of Soho.

  “I really would like to walk you home, it’s not safe for a young lady to be out on her own around here—what did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t.” She headed past the electrical shop.

  “Well, it hardly seems fair, you know my name,” I said, following just behind her.

  “I only know your name because I heard Rai use it. I didn’t ask for it.”

  “Please,” I said, “it’s just a name and after what you just…you know, we did, I think I am entitled to that.” I caught up with her and looked down at her serious little face. Her lips were tight and her focus aimed straight ahead. The top of her head came up only to my shoulder.

  “Mr. Alan.” Suddenly she stopped and turned to face me. A crease formed between her large almond-shaped eyes that were now devoid of makeup. “I am off-duty, which means I no longer have to associate with you and I can assure you, I am perfectly capable of walking myself home.”

  I tugged at my bottom lip, hugely frustrated. I was getting nowhere. “But I—”

  “English is your first language so I know you will understand this. Leave. Me.

  Alone.”

  She turned and stepped away, moving swiftly between several girls who were heading toward me, tall, giggling girls who held none of the quiet dignity or self-assurance she had.

  Damn it, the first woman to catch my attention in months, the first woman to make me come hard and fast in what felt like forever, and she didn’t want my company for ev
en a few minutes.

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  Double damn it.

  I thought about chasing after her as she dodged between two cars and crossed the street. Maybe I should try more of my powers of persuasion to find out her name.

  Perhaps I should just make sure, as a good citizen, that she did arrive home safely.

  No. That would make me a stalker, wouldn’t it? A creep. A perv. The last thing I wanted her to think, but what it seemed I’d already succeeded in doing.

  She turned the corner onto Dean Street and slipped from view. A hollowness carved a shape in my chest. Disappointment mixed with a knock to my confidence settled in my belly and groin. I’d never had trouble with women in the past and certainly not the simple accomplishment of finding out a name. But I guessed this wasn’t a normal situation. I didn’t know her name but I did know what she looked like naked and I did know that she gave amazing head.

  I stuck my hand out for a passing taxi and jumped in. Nothing else to do except to go home and jerk off. But at least I had the delicious memory of my unusual dessert to get me hard again. Just a damn shame I couldn’t return the favor.

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  Chapter Four

  I hadn’t planned on going into the Tottenham Court Road store on Saturday morning, but there’d been a problem with the alarm overnight and my manager Dan called first thing.

  “Should be okay now,” I said, after resetting the system and applying new passwords. “Probably the damn pigeons again making nests in the eaves. They set off the alarm last spring if you remember.”

  “I thought the holes in the fascia had been filled,” Dan said with a frown.

  I shrugged. “These old attics are so higgledy-piggledy, it only takes one gap to be missed and the birds are back in. Call Pest Mate on Monday and get them to come and check it out.”

  “Sure thing, boss,” Dan said, picking up a mug of tea and slurping noisily. “You hanging around for a bit?”

  “Nah, it’s been a heavy week. I’m going to make the most of the sunshine and get out into the hills.”

  “Sounds great. Have fun.” His attention was caught by a ringing telephone. He sat on his office chair and swiveled away from me, reaching for it.

  I wandered down a narrow corridor, pushed through swing doors and onto the shop floor. I adored the scent of my stores. A combination of canvas and leather, new clothes and a metallic tang that was unique to climbing equipment. It represented adventure and fun, the great outdoors, the life I loved.

  “Mr. Alan.”

  I turned at the sound of a female voice. I felt as though I’d been shoved in the chest and my head spun in surprise. Standing before me was my sweet little Geisha girl. She 29

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  had a look of nervousness, very different to the pinched, determined expression when I’d approached her on the street.

  “I, er, hi,” I managed.

  Her hair was loose and ran like a black silken sheet over her shoulders. She wore neat red lipstick over her entire mouth, not just the center, and her eyes were once again kohled, though not as heavily as in the restaurant.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  Her mouth is beautiful, and fuck she knows how to use it.

  She tugged at her tight white t-shirt, pulling it nearer to the waistband of her short skirt. It stretched over her pert breasts and I could almost make out her nipples pressing against the cups of her bra. She was unsuccessful at covering her bare, tanned midriff, despite the yank on her t-shirt.

  “I wanted to apologize,” she said. “I was rude to you last night.” I shrugged and let a smile tip my lips. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I startled you. It wasn’t very thoughtful of me to be hanging around in the shadows of an alley.” She gave a small nod and cast her eyes downward.

  I racked my brains for something to say. I didn’t fancy another knockback but would she turn me down again? She was here after all, in my store, the one nearest to The Geisha Plate. Could I flatter myself with the thought that she’d been hanging around waiting for me since opening time? It would have been an educated guess for her to think I might be here, what with Rai and I chatting about Dare Go There all evening, but she was lucky I was, it not being my usual routine.

  “So perhaps,” I said, curling my hand over a metal rail holding an assortment of windproof jackets and trying to project an air of calmness, “you could tell me your name now, as a way of apology.”

  She looked back up at me. Once again the startling, dark depths of her eyes took my breath away.

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  “My name is Tida.”

  “Beautiful name. Where are you from? Japan?”

  She shook her head and her hair trickled farther over her shoulders and down her chest. “No, I am from Thailand. I moved to London three years ago.”

  “You speak excellent English.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Alan. I listen to it a lot, in the restaurant.”

  “Please, call me John.” I shifted my feet. Thoughts of the restaurant booth and what Tida had done had my cock filling and heat simmering in my bollocks. What I wouldn’t do for another booking at that eatery, with her on the menu this time and me dishing out the treats.

  A tense silence stretched between us. There was so much I wanted to know about this fascinating little woman but I didn’t know where to start.

  “So, do you need any help with a purchase?” I asked.

  Duh, of all the dumb things to say.

  “I don’t think so.” She glanced around.

  Quick, John, salvage the situation.

  “I was planning a walk in the Malverns today,” I said. “It’s a couple of hours from London, but the scenery is spectacular, it’s unspoilt and the weather is set to be perfect.” I swallowed tightly, braced for rejection. “Do you fancy coming with me?” She parted her lips as if surprised, then nibbled on her bottom lip, an act that was both innocent and erotic and did nothing to help the burgeoning swell in my denims.

  “That sounds an interesting invitation,” she said quietly.

  “Of course I know it’s short notice, and if you’re er, working tonight then I can’t promise to get you back early evening, and I—”

  “I am not working and I have never been to the Malvern Hills.” She paused.

  “But…”

  My heart skittered with hope then fell with disappointment. “But?” 31

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  “But I have not dressed for a hike.” She gestured down her luscious body.

  I grinned. That was something I could easily sort. “Tida, you are standing in my shop, it is full of everything you could ever need for hiking. Whatever you want is yours.”

  “Really?”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “Yeah, really, whatever you fancy.” How glad was I that I’d built an outdoor clothing empire. Never thought it would come in so handy when wooing women.

  She glanced around. “But the weather is warm, will I need much?”

  “Of course, starting with shoes.” I nodded at her high heels. They were pale blue with small white bows on the top. “You’ll need something like this.” I stepped over to a rack of hiking shoes, thick soled and sturdy around the ankles. “Here, try these on, size three?”

  She nodded and sat on a low bench. She slipped out of her heels, revealing the neat toes that had held flowers between them the night before. After grabbing woolen socks, I dropped to my knees before her, only just hiding the discomfort my semi caused.

  “Need a hand, boss?”

  I looked up. Dan was hovering by our side.

  “No, it’s okay, I’ve got this one,” I said, widening the laces on the hiking shoes I’d chosen for Tida.

  “I can take over if you want to get off,” Dan said.

  “Nope. I’m good.” I held the shoe to Tida. “Try this for size.” She smiled almost shyly and took it.

  Dan must have walked away but I didn�
�t notice him go. I was mesmerized by every action of Tida’s. The way her slim foot, now covered in a navy sock, slotted into the shoe, how her delicate fingers looked against the sturdy material and the way her elegant shins rose from it.

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  “How does it feel?” I asked.

  “Tight, but in a good way, it would stop me twisting my ankle.”

  “Good, that’s how it’s supposed to feel. Here, try the other.” The left shoe fit perfectly. As did the lightweight lilac jacket I picked out for her, and the khaki canvas shorts. I didn’t encourage her to change the t-shirt. That item of clothing was as near perfect as it was possible to get. Though I did wonder if I would be able to control my gaze all day. Knowing how lovely her breasts were beneath the t-shirt made it all the more tempting to stare. I didn’t need to imagine, I knew that her chest was exquisitely beautiful.

  *

  After tearing down the M4 then winding up toward Leominster, I parked up at a deserted farm layby I’d used on several occasions.

  “Here we go,” I said. “This is a great spot to start out from.” Tida turned toward the dramatic rolling hills. Crevices and rocky outcrops were set among fields of sheep. In the distance a dense copse stood next to the ruined priory that was my aim for the first two hours’ walk.

  “It’s lovely,” she said, a wistfulness in her voice. “Really lovely.”

  “Wait until we get to the top and you see the view, you’ll love it.” I leaped out of the car, popped the trunk and started double-checking my gear.

  Tida came and stood next to me. “What’s that?” She pointed at my two-man tent lying at the back of the trunk.

  “It’s a tent for overnight hikes.”

  I shoved several dehydrated meals into my rucksack and checked my compass was accurate.

  “We are not staying overnight, are we?”

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  Her words made me pause. She sounded almost frustrated, disappointed. I looked down at her. She knew camping out wasn’t the plan. I’d explained the timetable for the day and she’d suggested stopping at a country pub for dinner on the way home, something that appealed to me very much.

  She looked up and gave a half-smile.