Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 311 - Chapitre 320

"Yeah. I twist and grind them when I'm thinking or stressed or happy. They ache. Ugh. And I stink. I should have showered. Um... listen, there's something urgent that I need to tell you, and that is that I really love your voice.""Oh... oh. My voice?""Mhmm. It's amazing. So, make me happy - say Beethoven was a bastard.""What?""Go on. Say the words.""Beethoven was a bastard.""Do you know what? I entirely agree with you on that. You're very wise. Now say back-rub.""Back-rub," I repeated, grinning."Now say...""Kiss," I whispered.A silence."You're very bold. But okay, if you insist.""You're grinning.""No, I'm not. I'm smiling. There's a difference, and... I'll show you the difference sometime. Mandy?""Yeah?""Thank you for answering my call. How can I make it up to you?""Say kiss," I said."Really, is that all? Fine. Immatchum. There - are you happy?""Does that mean a kiss?""Something like that," she said."Then yes, I'm happy.""What time do you need to be up?""Six-ish,

Sue didn't speak; she just sighed out a long, slow breath at one point, but apart from sinking slightly lower into the bed she gave no sign that she was paying attention to much of anything but our mutual silence.I moved down her back, trying not to trap the thin cotton of her vest under my palms. Her flush was deeper now, her breaths slower - my own heart was racing. Her scent was gentle, something subtle and herbal, fresh and... intoxicating... like morning mist, my mind flung up - morning mist over dewy parkland, as silly as that sounded when I thought about it a bit further...I desperately desired to kiss the nape of her neck. But I also knew that we weren't there, and that I would need to let her set the pace for anything she might, perhaps, want from me.I started to rub around her shoulders and down over her upper arms. Her fingers clenched, then released again."That's... nice," she whispered. "That's... so nice..."Silence returned; a long, soft stillness, warm and private

"I have something I want to show you," she said. She fumbled for her phone. "Do you have headphones? I'm not ready for anyone else to hear this... but I'm ready to show it to you.""I have some. We can share them.""Let's lie down. I feel like I need to lie down for this.""You've got me very curious now.""Curiosity, as they say, killed the pianist. Or at least maimed her - gruesomely. I made the cardinal unforced error of opening the music for this piece two years ago - despite all the warnings and grisly decapitated corpses lying around everywhere. That's never a good idea; it's my Pandora's Box, my Albatross. So... now, I'm cursed to strive to play this. It's Beethoven.""Oh... him at least I know. He wrote that piece, you know, the one, the dah-dah-dah-daaaah..."She snorted, and turned it into a smile to soften the sting of my ignorance."Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Yeah. Everyone knows he wrote that one. Among other, greater evils, and then the truly demonic works - like

"Put your fingers on me. Here," I added, finding her hand and guiding her. "Here. Just... stroke me gently. You don't have to be in me, I like that, but what I really like is a finger on either side of me like... oh, God, oh God, like that...""You're so... smooth," she breathed. "I didn't realise that you shaved...""It's not like... we'd shown..."She shifted and pushed me over. I gasped as she yanked my underwear below my hips. She stared down at me, then raised her gaze back to me. She watched me, watched my expression as she touched me again. Her eyes dropped down, she stared at my body as she opened me, toyed with me."I've never seen anyone like this before," she said. "I've had sex a couple of times, but it was always... quick and unsatisfying. Fully clothed, mostly, in the moments I could steal. I've never had slow and intimate like this. Certainly not with someone I actually liked. You're the first naked girl I've got to see... like this.""You... like me?""Like is a word t

I paused for a moment and did what she suggested... and I realised that the conversations around me were in a language I didn't know but somehow vaguely thought might be Italian."Oh," I said, softly, breathing it all in."That's why I come to places like this. Try the lasagne," she said. "It will be great, I'm certain of it.""Sue?""Mhmm?""Just so you know, I'm growing to rather like spending time like this with you.""I noticed," she whispered, and she brushed her lips to my cheek.I ordered the lasagne; she ordered a Milanese. She shared hers, and I shared mine, and she laughed loudly at the noises I made. Soft conversation ebbed and flowed around us; the lights were dim, and I stared into her dark and captivating eyes and felt my soul cede itself to her and her alone.Later, we walked hand in hand, fingers entwined, and she led me through the rabbit warren of Soho to an understated, black wooden door. A man in a suit smiled at us and opened it for us and she led me into a beauti