Sensuous Stories (4 page)

When she’d returned home, she decided every
two years she’d have an extended holiday in London. If she scrimped
and saved she could just manage it. Which made Adam’s depression
even more disappointing. A gorgeous Englishman in her house who was
unfuckable. It wasn’t fair.

She put the glass on her bedside table and
rolled onto her stomach with her hand jammed between her legs. This
was the perfect position for a lazy afternoon of pleasure. She
loved rubbing her clit against the side of her hand, remembering
the feel of James behind her, sliding his cock in and out of her,
his hands on her buttocks, kneading with occasional stinging
slap.

She was almost there, ready to press her
mouth into her pillow, not wanting Adam to hear her, when she saw
him out the window at the end of her garden. He was standing with
his back to her, without his shirt. What a sight. He might be
permanently depressed, but he didn’t let his body suffer. Weeks of
sun made his skin golden and lush and his blue black hair gleamed
in the sunlight.

Gina rubbed her clit faster and harder,
wanting her hands on his body and her tongue on his skin, when she
saw him throw back his head. He looked like he was in pain. He
jerked and turned slightly and she saw with delighted shock, his
cock out and up, with the last spurt of cum jetting onto the
garden. She forgot to muffle her moan as she came, then ducked away
from the window as he turned to the sound.

Her cunt throbbed with
aftershocks and she laughed into her pillow. Maybe he
had
spent his whole
holiday wanking. What a bizarre situation! She lay on her bed and
dreamily slid a couple of fingers into herself. Perhaps after all
there was a way to get her holiday fuck.

Adam whipped his head around at the sound of
a muffled groan. Gina had long since disappeared into her bedroom
with the phone so he thought he was safe. He quickly shoved his
cock back into his jeans and strode back to the house. Not that he
wanted to be inside. He never wanted to be inside again.

He knew he was behaving badly but he
couldn’t do anything else. Depression enveloped him as soon as he
got off the train at Katoomba and saw Gina, looking like a wild,
hippy amazon, standing against the background of blue endless sky
and with a huge grin on her face. She was warm, friendly,
hospitable and completely irresistible. She summed up his whole
experience of the country, a place full of warmth and light and
space. The thought of getting back on a plane to dark, dank London
in seven days filled him with despair.

Which deepened after she picked him up and
took him to her house. Her back garden went on forever into the
National Park. Colored birds flew through the green grey trees, the
smell of eucalyptus surrounded him and when he heard the first cry
of a black cockatoo he wanted to weep with joy. He’d found his home
and he couldn’t live here.

Being with Gina made his skin hurt with
need. All he could think about was wanting her hands on him and his
cock inside her, while he lost himself in her brilliant blue eyes,
eyes the same color as the sky. He wanted to twist her red earth
hair around his fists and pound into her as she wrapped her long,
strong legs around him and pushed back, pressing her fingers into
his buttocks, urging him on.

She had a lush, lusty laugh and lived life
like it was a rich chocolate cake made just for her. He knew as
soon as he met her she wanted to fuck him, but he just couldn’t let
himself go, knowing he may never get himself back together. It was
this country. It made him want what he couldn’t have.

So he held back, not engaging with her so it
wouldn’t hurt so much when he left. But it was getting harder and
harder, along with his cock. When he wandered the garden with his
shirt off and the sun a blessed caress on his skin, all he could
think about was her. She was mixed up in his head with the sky and
the bush. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to pull out
his cock and make love to the air. The sight of his cum on the leaf
litter was deeply satisfying.

He had to get a grip on himself and stop
this terrible mooning. He was a civilized man with impeccable
manners. She must think him an oaf.

When he got back to the house, she was in
the shower. He was relieved. Three more days and he’s be back on
the plane. He just had to stop thinking about fucking her. Not just
fuck her, lose himself in her, feel the life affirming heat of her
glorious body

. . . stop. Don’t go down that pathway. Just
be pleasant, but distant.

He went to his room, pulled out a shirt and
buttoned it up, trying to replace the image of her body with
thoughts about financial systems and computer programs. He sighed,
looked up, then blinked. The image he’d thrust out his mind was
standing in the corridor, nonchalantly drying her hair. She had a
skimpy towel around her that looked like it could fall off any
second.

“
I thought we could have a
picnic down by the waterfall later. The sun doesn’t go down until
late. What do you think?”

He’d go anywhere with her, anytime. Dragging
his eyes away from her breasts, he remembered his resolve to be
friendly but sexually detached. He wouldn’t survive otherwise.

“
That sounds a lot of fun,
Gina. It’s a beautiful evening for a picnic.”

She stepped back, raised her eyebrows, then
smiled a slow, wicked smile that made his cock twitch.

“
Great. There’s a wonderful
deli in the main street. I’ll get dressed, grab a rug and we can
go.”

Verity Campbell was at the end of her
tether. Today was her eighteenth birthday and her parents, bless
them, had decided that a brisk bush walk and a picnic at Mini-Ha-Ha
Falls would be the perfect way to celebrate. She could hear them
packing up the picnic hamper, no doubt full of wholesome tofu,
pumpkin and sunflower seed salad, home made gluten free bread and a
big thermos of green tea. Yum, yum.

The taste of anchovy and peperoni pizza was
still in her mouth from last night’s celebration with her friends.
She’d ingested a lot more than pizza but thankfully Fin’s semen
didn’t leave an aftertaste. And all the cheap champagne she’d drunk
just made her head pound.

“
Are you ready yet,
darling?” her mother called.

“
Yeah, coming.”

She grabbed a T-shirt that didn’t smell of
cigarettes and wine, pulled on some loose drawstring pants and
rooted around her discarded clothes for her walking shoes. Her
mother appeared at her door way.

“
Had a good
night?”

“
Yeah, yeah.”

“
What did you
do?”

Here we go. It was bad enough having born
again Christians as parents but when they were also ex-hippies
obsessed with health living, life could get pretty bloody dreary.
Over the past year Verity had started to dig her heels in and
resist some of their rules. Unbeknownst to her parents, she’d been
doing so since the age of fourteen when she’d lost her virginity
against a wall behind the aquatic centre without a condom and
without knowing the name of the guy fucking her. But over the past
year she’d stopped hiding her moments of rebellion, wanting to find
out how far she could go. She’d demanded to socialise with her
friends just like other normal seventeen year olds, which meant
unsupervised time at their houses without adults present.

Surprisingly her parents hadn’t put up much
of a fight. Verity suspected they knew if they did, she’d be off
like a shot. She wasn’t some indulged teenager who expected life on
a platter. She worked hard after school and during the holidays as
a check out chick at K-Mart. Earning money was her obsession.

“
Nothing much. Just watched
tele at Fin’s place and had some pizzas.”

Her mother frowned. “I suppose you ate lots
of meat.”

Verity rolled her eyes. “That’s right Mum. I
gorged myself because there’s no way I’d get any here, is
there?”

“
Certainly not. Just
remember to take some extra pysillum. After all that dead food
you’re bound to get constipated.”

Verity closed her eyes and started counting.
Eighteen years old and her mother was lecturing her about her
bowels. In moments like these she thought about her Running Away
From Home Fund. It was almost enough. Another six months and she’d
have enough for the plane fare to London where she’d get a job and
smoke, drink and fuck with total strangers if she wanted to. She
just had to put up with Hippy Haven until then.

Gina stretched out on the rug the aftertaste
of smoky babaganush in her mouth. This was more like it. Good food
and a man full of simmering expectation across from her. Thank God
he’d gotten over what ever was bothering him. Maybe a good session
of self abuse was all he needed. She didn’t care just as long as he
continued to give off I-can-hardly-wait-to-get-my-hands-on-you
vibes. Although he seemed to be still struggling with the idea.
Every now and then he’d pull himself back as if he didn’t want to
offend her. But then she’d see a look of down and dirty lust and
her pussy would clutch with excitement.

The rug was in the shade under a row of
eucalypts not far from Mini-Ha-Ha Falls. She was counting on the
fact that not many people came down here in the middle of the week.
Even if someone did appear, they’d have to make a deliberate trip
to see them.

An ant crawled up her ankle. She idly
brushed it off and wondered if she should make the first move. Her
cunt felt plump and moist, ready for attention. Just as she was
about to reach out to Adam, he rolled onto his stomach and plucked
a strawberry from the punnet. Excellent. Lots of possibilities with
strawberries.

“
These are great. They’re so
big.” He bit into the red flesh and juice dribbled down his chin.
She leant forward and licked it off. He jumped and stared at her, a
look of confused lust on his face.

His chin was smooth with just a hit of
bristle. She felt a direct line of zing straight from her tongue to
her sharp nipples and then deep in her pussy. She was about to lean
forward and lick him again when he pulled back and sat up with a
sigh, looking tortured and depressed again.

“
No, no,” she said. “What is
it? I thought you’d got over whatever was bugging you.”

He sighed again and looked embarrassed. “I’m
sorry Gina. I know I’ve been behaving badly but I think it’s better
if we don’t get involved.”

“
Involved? You’re flying
back to London in three days. How could we get
involved?”

“
That’s just it. If we do
anything now I’ll get even more despondent because I’ll want more.
Not just of you, although that would be great, but of this place.”
He threw out an arm and stared into the bushes, a wild look on his
face. “It’s like a drug. The more I’m here the more I want to be
here. If we fuck on this picnic rug, an experience I can tell you
now, I want more than anything in the world, I’m afraid I’ll never
be able to go back to London.”

Gina shrugged. “Would that be such a
problem?”

His scandalised look made her laugh.

“
Of course it’s a problem. I
can’t just not go back.”

“
Why not?”

He spluttered. “Because I can’t.”

She picked up a strawberry and examined it.
“Don’t see why not. You could get a job here. You’re a computer and
finance person aren’t you? You could work anywhere.”

“
That’s not the point. I
can’t just ring my employers and tell them I’m not coming back.
It’s irresponsible.”

Far from being irritated at the way their
conversation was headed, Gina was getting even more twitchy. Her
cunt had that deep, achy feeling that could only be soothed by some
solid, continual fucking. There was something about male
responsibility that filled her instantly with lust. It was like the
proverbial red rag to a bull, or in this case the signal she had to
get him out of his clothes as soon as possible.

“
Adam. Sweetheart,” she
said, as she crawled across the rug, knocking strawberries, lettuce
and tomatoes out of the way. He reared back, but offered no real
resistance when she grabbed him around the shoulders, pressed her
body against his and toppled him back against the rug. He groaned
with what sounded to Gina like a mix of lust and resignation. She
straddled him, her cunt fitting snugly against the bulge in his
jeans, then looked down him with a smile. “Live a
little.”

He put up a two second fight, but finally
smiled widely. “You’re not going to let me go, are you?”

She shook her head.

“
In that case…”

He lifted his hands to her waist then rolled
her underneath him.

The punnet of strawberries tipped over and
she could feel the leaves of the lettuce brushing her thigh as she
laughed and wrapped her arms around him. The whole, hard length of
his body pressed down on her. She opened her legs and shimmied
around to get the hardening bulge of his erection tight against her
clit. She’d decided against knickers hoping this picnic would end
up just as it should, with her legs open and ready. The only
barrier between them was the soft cotton of her skirt.

“
Oh yes,” she murmured.
“Just there. That’s right.”

He grinned down at her, all brooding
depression gone, then kissed her. His mouth tasted of strawberry
and delayed gratification and his tongue slid against hers in
exactly the same rhythm as the ridge of his jeans rubbing against
her clit. She moved her hands down to his buttocks and pushed him
harder against her, undulating her hips, making the friction just
right.