Another Kitchen

Am I really going to do this? It isn't me. Sure, it used to be, but not anymore. We begin walking through a small alleyway towards the car park, my mind screaming at me to do something, kiss him, anything. I need to get out of here; the space is too tight, pushing me closer to him, too close for me to concentrate.

He turns, his hands gripping my wrists, pushing my back against the wall, his mouth kissing mine, pinning my arms above my head, a moan escaping my lips as he pushes against me more, the feel of his shaft beneath his trousers. Moans seem to be escaping my mouth as his mouth continues to tease. My hands move to unfasten his trousers.

He moves quickly, letting go of me; he carries on walking, a little faster than before to get us to his car. Driving in silence, I watch as we go out of the town centre, surrounded by trees and fields. We pull into a drive, the whole place beautiful and open.

The house is breathtaking. I have only seen homes like this in magazines and on TV. W