No Ordinary Bloke

by Mary Whitney

  “When he was seventeen, I caught him cheating on Nicki. He was drunk after his grandfather’s funeral. I punched him so he’d snap out of it.”

  Her eyes were wide as saucers in disbelief. “Adam cheated on Nicki? Poor Nicki.”

  “They were seventeen. She’d pushed him away.” I waved it aside. “Remember I told you the short version of their story. The long one has too much stupid drama like that. Don’t worry about them. As you can see, they’re solid. Have been for years.”

  “Good. You had me doubting true love for a moment.”

  Relieved that I’d calmed her down, I took her into my arms. “I’m so sorry, love. I was a jealous fool.”

  She played with the lettering on my football shirt. “There was no reason to be jealous though. I’m with you. I want to be with you, not that stupid, red-faced Irish guy.”

  “I know…but we just got together.” I stared into those earnest green eyes of hers. As frightening as it was for me, I owed her an explanation. I took a deep breath and spoke my heart. “Don’t you see? Because everyone else can. I’m falling in love with you. I’ve never felt like this before.”

  “I haven’t either,” she whispered. Her gaze was intense, but she soon pursed her lips. “You mean so much to me, but it’s only been a few months since I got out of a relationship. One that started out great, but turned out was a lie. I’m a little gun shy, and it scares me how much I care for you.”

  “I understand,” I said as my heart swelled. If she felt a fraction for me what I felt for her, I was a blessed man. I stroked her hair. “I would be, too. But I will never, ever hurt you like that. And even if I want to beat up stupid Irish guys, I would never harm you. Never.”

  “I know. You just scared me.” She frowned. “And I don’t like the idea of you getting hurt.”

  “Me?” I laughed. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “How do you know?”

  I tapped my head. “Because I’m smart. I’m not getting in a fight with blokes bigger than me.”

  “Good.” She kissed my forehead. “But don’t get into any fights at all, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Late that afternoon, Allison and I were both packing up our bags. She planned to take a taxi to Union Station, and I’d take one to Dulles Airport. Even though we were joking, the mood was blue. As I stuffed my stinky football gear in a plastic bag, I grumbled. “I don’t want to wait three weeks to see you again.”

  “But that’s when I’ll be back in London.”

  She’d finished before me and flopped on the bed. She lay on her stomach with her cute arse up in the air. I was waiting for just the right moment to pinch it. “What are you doing next weekend?”

  “Next weekend?” She laughed. “I don’t know. I think I’m free.”

  “Good. I’ll get you a ticket. Can you make a Friday flight?”

  “You are not buying me a ticket.”

  “I have so many fucking frequent flyer miles on every airline on this earth. I can’t use them all no matter how many I give away.”

  “Who do you give them away to?”

  “Everyone. Me mum. Aunt Judith. Nicki. Adam. Me football mates. Even Sylvia.”

  “Why do you always say her name like that? So does Adam. Only Nicki seems to like her. What’s she like?”

  “Impossible.” I zipped my bag just to underscore how I felt about her. “She lives in New York, so I suppose I should introduce you. Maybe I’ll just send the two of you into Starbucks with a few quid and come back in an hour when you’re done talking.”

  “Aren’t you worried she’ll talk about you?”

  “Talk about me? Bollocks to that. She can’t shut up about herself.”

  “Now I really want to meet her.” She laughed. “She actually sounds hilarious.”

  “Tell that to Adam.” I sat beside her and pinched her bum. “Can we get back to your coming to London?”

  “Did you just pinch my butt again?”

  “Yes. I had to get your attention.”

  She reached over and pinched my arse. “You have it.”

  “You little…” We tousled for a minute or two until I wrestled her down so she was beneath me, making me smile. “Oh, I like this.”

  “Hmm.” Her eyes were shining bright. “I do, too.”

  “Come to London.”

  “I don’t think it makes sense to come just for a weekend.”

  “Then let’s both take a couple of days off so we have more time. You have holiday time, don’t you?”

  “Yes…” Her voice was hesitant, but she was still smiling.

  “Brilliant. We can do whatever you want. I’ll take you on a proper date to dinner and even the theater. I’ll take you to museums. We can hang out at a pub and get pissed. Whatever.” I stroked my nose against hers. “We can even just stay in bed all day. I’d like that as well.”

  “Can we do a little of everything?”

  “Certainly. I want to do everything with you.”

  On Friday, Allison took the first flight to London early that morning, which landed in London in the late evening. Though I was tired from working all day, I was excited for her arrival. I met her with flowers at the airport, and when she saw me, she grinned and leapt into my arms. We talked, texted, and emailed all the time, but this was different. I spun her around and said, “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  “Give us a kiss, will you, my darling girl?”

  “Gladly, my handsome man.”

  We kissed as long as we could, given what a public place we were in. We may have had the hormones of teenagers, but we were adults. We couldn’t bloody snog in public like adolescents. After the kiss, she pointed to the flowers. “Are those for me?”

  “No, I was selling them.”

  “You were not, silly.”

  “Of course, they’re for you.”

  “Thank you.” She took them from me and smelled the roses. “Pretty.”

  “Not as pretty as you.”

  “Did you plan that line?”

  “Fuck no. I don’t plan lines.” I swatted her bottom. “Shall we find your bags and hit the road?”

  “Sure.”

  We chatted as we made our way from baggage claim to the car park and then back to my place. She was stunned by my driving. “Wow. You drive this car so well.”

  “It’s a little easier over here for me.”

  “Yeah, I don’t feel like my life is at risk.”

  “Your life was never at risk.”

  “It’s still a beautiful car.” She touched the leather. “You said you’d beat up a guy if they hurt your car. Is that really true?”

  “Probably not in most situations.”

  “Oh God. That was a lame, qualified answer if I ever heard one.”

  “I can’t help it. I love my car.”

  When we got back to my place, I carried her bags up the steps to my flat. I lived on the bottom floor of an old house that had been converted to three flats. When we stepped inside, I flipped on the lights, and she peeked around. “Wow. It’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” The room was impressive if just for its size, though it also served as my kitchen, dining room, and sitting room.

  She walked further inside, and as I closed the door, I heard her say, “Is it always this clean? I feel like a slob in comparison.”

  “I have Riya. She cooked for us by the way. I hope you’re hungry.”

  Allison kneeled down and studied the inlaid wood on an end table. “Did you do this?”

  “I did.”

  “It’s gorgeous,” she said, touching the details.

  “Thanks.”

  She stood up and shook her head. “I’m really glad you don’t bring women here.”

  “Why is that? Besides the obvious of course…”

  “Because one of them would’ve snatched you up by now.”

  “Rubbish.”

  Wrapping her arms around me, she said, “Not rubbish. Fact.”
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br />   “Because I have a housekeeper who keeps my place from looking like the lad’s pit it would be without her? Or because I happen to have made some furniture? Because it’s certainly not the Liverpool posters I have in my office.”

  She gave me a peck. “It’s the whole package.”

  “Because of my package?”

  “No.” She laughed and poked my chest.

  “How could you say that? Now I’m going to have an inferiority complex.”

  “You have an inferiority complex? I doubt that.” She looked up at the ceiling and said, “But now that you mention it, I’ll admit your package is a selling point.”

  “That’s it,” I said, lifting her off the ground and cradling her in my arms.

  “What are you doing?” She giggled.

  “We’re going to bed.”

  “I thought we were eating dinner.”

  “Change of plans.” I started walking toward my bedroom. “Let’s get the shagging started. That way I won’t be shoving food down my throat just to get you in bed sooner.”

  “Would you really do that?”

  “Yes.” I laughed. “With you, I would.”

  My room was dark when we entered, but I didn’t turn on the overhead lights. I was about to make love to my beautiful girl. I didn’t want it to feel like a fucking operating room. That said, I wasn’t one for darkness either. I wanted to be able to see her. I leaned over and switched on my bedside lamp, before leaving my wallet and mobile phone beside it.

  When the room brightened, she looked all around and kicked off her shoes. “Interesting,” she said as she lay back on the bed. “Where did you get all this art? I noticed the pieces in the living room as well.”

  “Sylvia. She’s an artist.”

  She repositioned the pillow beneath her head. “I thought she was an art critic.”

  “That’s because she’s a failed artist,” I said, losing my own shoes and curling up next to her.

  “But these look great.”

  “I agree. She says they’re good, just not as good as others.”

  “Does she think she failed?”

  “Fuck no.” I laughed. “Sylvia can teach us all a lesson about finding the positive in something where there seems to be none.” I kissed her neck. “No more talk of Sylvia, please. I actually have you in my bed.”

  “Your bed!” She sat up in excitement and got on her hands and knees. “I need to see this,” she said, crawling across the mattress to examine the bed. “It’s beautiful. What kind of wood?”

  “Cherry.”

  “I like how it’s a four-poster, but they don’t go up all the way. It’s sort of a masculine four poster bed.”

  “Thank you,” I said, touching the wood. I saw the flaws in the piece, but to the untrained eye it was pretty.

  She got on her knees and held on to a post. Her smile became devilish. “Have you ever tied a woman up here?”

  “I told you no women are ever here.”

  “I forgot.” She smiled and tilted her head. “Are you into that sort of thing?”

  “Not particularly, but if that’s what you want, I’m sure we could sort things out.”

  “No.” She laughed. “I’m not.”

  I moved across the bed and hugged her from behind, breathing in the scent of her that I’d missed. “Just because I’ve had my share of women, you think I’m a kinky bastard.”

  “Maybe…”

  “I’m so pedestrian,” I said, running my hand down her bare arm. “You’re going to be bored.”

  As I pressed my body against hers, she leaned into me, so that her glorious arse was against my dick. Lifting her face up to mine, she looked over her shoulder. “I will never be bored with you.”

  “And I will never tire of you,” I said, claiming her mouth with mine. We kissed and grinded for a minute or so until she turned around. Still on our knees, the kissing resumed as we both began unbuttoning each other’s shirts. By the end, I was tearing mine off, while she unclasped her bra. Her lovely breasts came to sight, and my dick probably doubled in size.

  Remembering what she liked, I first gently touched the curve of her breast before I started tweaking her nipples. “You couldn’t be lovelier.”

  She exhaled as she watched me. “You’re not too bad yourself,” she said and then kissed me hard. Our mouths and tongues went crazy again, while I worked at her breasts. My mouth wanted her all, though, and preferably all at once. I led my tongue down between her breasts and then all over them. I licked and sucked one nipple while pinching the other, switching from one to the other.

  I only stopped because she mashed her body against me, clearly ready for more. We both went to the fly of my jeans, and it was a joint effort getting them down far enough to free my dick. Finally, it sprang up and out, smacking my stomach like it was demanding action.

  With one finger, she traced the edge of the foreskin around, and I groaned.

  “You like that?” she asked.

  “Darling, as long as you’re nice to it, I like anything you do my cock.”

  She giggled and tickled it some more, driving me crazy. I gently eased her down onto the bed, and my stiff dick bounced as I followed. Somehow we shucked off our jeans and socks along the way. As I saw her lie back on the bed, I admired her red hair from her the top of her gorgeous head to her pretty little bits. The colors were striking against the white sheets. “You’re so beautiful,” I said, tracing the curve of her hip with my finger. “You look like a work of art right now.”

  “No...” Her shy smile appeared.

  “Like Botticelli’s Venus.” My mouth twitched. “But with a better body.”

  “Come here, you oaf.”

  “Gladly.”

  I kissed her and slid my body on top of hers, pressing my whole body against her long the way. By this point, I was sure I was going to burst. I hadn’t had sex in months, and now the precious object of all my desires had her legs spread for me. My cock was painfully aware her pussy was mere inches away, but I needed to hold off. I was going to come in seconds if we started now, and I hadn’t readied her at all.

  Breaking the kiss, I moved my mouth first to her ear which elicited a giggle, then her neck which got me a sigh, and then onto her breasts and belly which caused a few moans. She was finally ready for me though. She’d parted her legs wide, clenched my hair, and guided my mouth to her. She was wet and ready. My dick continued to throb, but I still had some work to do. Latching on to her clit, I pinched her nipple, and it took no time for her body to shudder in pleasure.

  “Ah!” She cried as she squirmed beneath my mouth. When she opened her eyes, she whispered “You’re amazing.”

  I smiled. “Don’t say that so soon.” The head of my cock was straining through the foreskin as if he’d been ignored and demanded to be heard. “I think this might go pretty quickly.”

  She grinned. “I’m sure it’s something we could repeat.”

  “I hope so.” Trying not to be too much of a clumsy arse, I leaned over and nabbed a condom from my wallet.

  Like the best of lovers, she helped me sort things out with the condom and even better guided me inside of her. I’d been with enough women when I was drunk or sober, or high or low, or whether I cared about them or not, that sex could feel very routine. With so little meaning, something that should’ve been very intimate was mundane. Not true with Allison.

  I watched intently she lifted her hips and then held my dick as she slipped it right where I wanted to be. Everything about it was so primal and intimate I was gobsmacked. And then there was the actual physical feeling of her warm and tight sex around my cock. I hung my head for a moment taking it all in. When I opened my eyes, she asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Honestly,” I said with the slowest of thrusts. “I’ve never been better.”

  “David,” she whispered.

  She was so beautiful beneath me, but I couldn’t focus on her. I couldn’t concentrate on the emotions erupting inside me or the eruption my b
ody wanted for itself. No, I had to focus on remembering every World Cup winner since I was born. When I went through that list, I remembered the time I went on a company picnic in Atlanta and sat in fire ants. And when that horrible memory wore off too quickly, I recalled every ugly schoolteacher I’d ever had and thought about what it would be like to bang them. And even after all that, I was lightning fast and came alone, not ever knowing where she was in the process.

  I dropped onto her chest like a fucking Neanderthal. Goddamn it. Catching my breath, I rolled on my back and apologized a million times, and I still felt that it wasn’t enough.

  But she would hear none of it. “I had an orgasm. Don’t you remember? Or was that someone else going down on me?”

  “It’s just so embarrassing. I’m so sorry.” I wasn’t sure how honest I wanted to be. Should I tell her that I’d had no sex life for months because I was so consumed by her? I quickly decided some things should be kept private.

  She rolled her eyes and crawled on top of my chest. Playing with the blonde curls on my torso, she smiled. “Will it make you feel better if I tell you that I’ve never felt sexier than when I’m with you?”

  “Really?” I began to beam.

  “I think that’s whole lot better than a simultaneous orgasm or any orgasm for that matter.”

  “I’d like for you to have both.”

  She exhaled hard and kissed my nose. “You are such an adorable, chauvinistic oaf. How did you get to be so sweet?”

  “It’s you, love. All you.”

  We snogged and laughed, never making it out of bed that night except when I brought dinner and drinks to her. For some reason that earned me the blowjob of my life. Afterwards I told her, “I think it can safely be said that you’ve mastered the male foreskin.”

  She kissed me. “Thanks, but I won’t be putting it on my resume.”

  “I should say not. I won’t have you advertising some of your talents.”

  Giggling, she kissed me again and snuggled up against me. I was just about to play around with her, when I felt her finger touch my left jawline. I flinched, and she said, “What’s that scar?”

  “A fight.”

  “Another fight?” Her forehead crumpled in disappointment.