The Man took pity on my ‘no action’ lament last week and put me out of my misery.
“Poor old bint,” he must have thought. “Stuck at home with no one else to look after her kids. I’ll pop round and do my good turn for the day.”
So there I was watching TV on a Thursday evening after a day of doing housework, wearing a scruffy fleece and old jeans, feeling a little grubby, hair scraped back in a ponytail. I certainly wasn’t prepared to face the outside world, never mind entertain visitors. But of course, The Man can always be counted on to be unpredictable.
There is a knock at the door. I won’t patronise you with any false suspense here, as obviously, after the above, there is no mystery or build-up to the identity of the ‘gentleman caller’.
He sits down next to me and I offer him a drink. He declines but says: “I’ll have this, though” and leans in to kiss me. “I hear you aren’t getting any, you poor little mite,” he adds stroking my breast on the outside of my top.
“But I’m all manky,” I reply suddenly conscious that I look a complete mess without make up, slightly greasy hair and wearing my glasses.
“I don’t care,” he says, quickly pulling off his clothes and grabbing my boobs, bottom and sliding his hands under my jeans.
It is fast and frantic and I have no more time to contemplate how awful I look. Before I have a second to try and remember which bra I put on this morning (oh dear, it’s the old grey-white one I use on ‘no-action’/period days), my clothes are strewn across the floor and he is inside me as we writhe on the sofa.
He sits up and I straddle him, sliding up and down his pole before I end up kneeling on the cushions as he enters me from behind, then we lie down again. Hard and fast, hard and fast, he climaxes and I hold him tightly against me as we squeeze one another in a post-ecstasy embrace – the kind of position you don’t want to give up for a few minutes, as it says more than any words at that awesome moment just after sex, when you are both perfectly sated.
Any thoughts of my appearance have completely evaporated. I don’t care about anything other than lying here for the few precious minutes I get to hold him close, breath in his essence, smell his hair, his sweat and feel his hot breath on my chest.
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