Country Pleasures (20 page)

‘She's not here,' she spat.

‘Jane's not here? Damn, I was looking forward to another
tête-à-tête
with her. Such big, beautiful breasts, such eagerness, such starvation, and yet such elegance.'

Jonathan laughed, and tucked in the rumpled patchwork quilt before sitting down on the end of Sally's bed. ‘Such a shame you hid that light under a bushel all these months.'

Sally wheeled round, remembering too late that she was stark-naked and glistening with sweat.

‘I told you, she wouldn't be seen dead propping up bars and being drooled over by people like you.'

‘I wouldn't be so sure. She got quite the taste for
people like me
the other day, don't you think?'

‘Screw who you like. I don't care any more.'

Sally wondered for a split second whether to grab a T-shirt or something, and then she found she didn't care about that either. She held onto the telescope as if for support and wiped a hand across her dripping nose.

‘Hey, hey, what's happened to you? The spirits in this cottage sapped you of your strength?'

Sally didn't answer, but inside she wondered if he had a point. She looked at Jonathan as if for the first time, and her gut twisted with desire, made all the fiercer by her renewed, vicious loathing. He wore a plain blue polo-shirt and chinos just the right side of casual and, as he crossed one leg over the other to swing his foot idly in his usual manner, she saw that he wore genuinely weather-beaten deck shoes.

‘I'm having a shower,' she said at last, and felt her whole body flush, her gut twisting again like the ropes on the boat Jonathan would be sure to have to go with the shoes. ‘So you should leave.'

‘I've come to talk to you,' he answered, still swinging his foot and smoothing one hand across the old quilt as if to soothe it. ‘I meant to speak the other day, but everything was all too amusing, and neither of you she-cats gave me a chance.'

‘There's nothing to say. You see what you've done to me. Wrenched the job I loved away from me, as well as most of my friends –'

‘Hardly friends, darling –'

‘–reduced me to a life of seclusion, flopping about
in the middle of nowhere, doing odd-jobs about this dump because I can't get work anywhere else and, to top it all, wrestling with a stinking cold that I haven't been able to shake off since I got here. Godforsaken shit hole.'

Jonathan waited for a moment and, to her surprise, didn't laugh in her face.

‘I've come to fix all that,' he said.

Sally snorted and took a couple of steps over to the tissue box beside her bed, aware of her tits tipping jauntily from side to side as she moved. This was not at all the impression she was trying to give, but she was sure her flesh was firm enough to stand up to his unwavering inspection. To hide her rising confusion and lust she jabbed the tissue box at him.

‘Come to fix my flu, have you? You can even tell colds to take a running jump, and they'll listen?'

‘I want you to come and work in a brand new venture with me and a partner. But only when you decide to return to London.'

Sally's mouth dropped open behind the tissue, and she turned away to blow her nose all the harder. Through the window she suddenly saw Maddock's muddy Land Rover driving slowly along the road from the sea. It slowed down at the turning to the cottage, but then accelerated away before she could wave or attract its attention. Something inside her calmed down as she watched it go. The words ‘fish' and ‘sea' sprang to mind. There was always someone else, someone waiting out there who would make her feel better in an instant, if she only got off her arse and went to look for him.

‘A bit sudden, I know, and I wouldn't blame you if you told me to –'

‘Drop dead, Jonathan. Yes, that's all I have to say to
you!' The fire was in her belly again, and she rose up on her toes as she yelled at him. ‘I don't need you or your fancy new colleague to help me out of a hole. Things are just fine the way they are.'

Jonathan spread his hands in surrender and uncrossed his legs, ready to stand.

‘If that's how you feel,' he said. ‘But I don't think you really mean it. You're not cut out for a life of leisure. Just hear me out, would you? It's a very attractive proposition, and we both agreed that you were just the girl for the job.'

‘I wouldn't spit on you, or your new colleague, if you were burning to death,' she half sobbed, half shrieked, hurling herself towards him. Following fast on the heels of her venom was the familiar hysteria, the exhilaration that always fired her when Jonathan was around; that fire that had never been far away when she was cutting through that City jungle. She knew that she should be screaming at him, but instead she found herself laughing maniacally as he stood up and caught her just as she was launching her fingernails at his face. His fingers closed round her wrists, and he held her in mid-air for a moment before lowering her to the floor, making her feel like a feeble schoolgirl.

‘It was only a suggestion. I should have known better. I should have known how bitter you'd be after what happened.'

He turned to go. Sally grabbed at his arm and pulled him back.

‘That it? You're going to give up that easily?'

‘I only wanted to express how sorry I am for what happened, Sally. I was a fool. That's why I tracked you down, rented a house near here, wanted to speak to you, try to make it up to you.'

‘I don't believe in this new Saint Jonathan. I won't listen. You'd have to try a helluva lot harder than that.'

She dropped his arm and stalked away across the room, which was filling with steam from the shower and making them both sweat.

‘I've had enough of fighting – even with you. So I'll be off. Go and pack up the house and return to London.'

He was ready to abandon her again. He was halfway out of the open door. Sally backed away, on the other side of the room, towards the shower room. She was immobile with anger and disappointment, the same emotions she'd felt when he'd stuck that knife in her back those few months back. But that anger was very close to desire, and it threw her into turmoil now as it had then. They glared at each other through the steam.

‘Lily-livered to the end,' she spat. ‘Can't even persuade an old flame to try again. I thought better of you, Jonathan Dart.'

She stood for a moment longer, then flicked her fingers dismissively and stepped into the shower room to open the little window and let out some of the steam. She paused, her face poking out into the warm sunny air, but she couldn't hear him, either leaving or staying. She stepped into the shower and grabbed the shampoo.

‘What's that song?' she grunted, still not sure whether to laugh or cry. She stuffed her head under the jets of water. ‘Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of my Hair.'

Jonathan was right there, cramming himself in behind her, shirt and trousers and shoes rapidly soaking through. His tall frame filled the shower cubicle, but Sally climbed up him like a monkey up a tree, gripping her knees round his hips and tearing at his shirt, pulling it over his head, slithering down again to
unbutton his trousers, throwing them over the top of the cubicle, running her hands down his wet sides while he stood perfectly still, amusement playing round his lips. Then she took the soap in her hand and rubbed it frantically between her palms to get the suds going. She dropped the soap and took his half-erect cock in her hands and started to lather it, tucking the still-soft end into one hand and swiping up and down the shaft with the other. She watched it quiver and rise through the bubbles, extending like the telescope, lengthening from his flat stomach, smoothing out the skin, ironing out any wrinkles until it was straight, smooth as plastic and even longer than she remembered. It emerged strong and proud through the pink bubbles of Ben's soap. She pulled it roughly, making it even longer, and lathered the big balls that hung beneath it. Jonathan's height made the end of his prick jab into Sally's stomach even when she was standing on tiptoes.

His head rolled back against the shower wall, but still he waited and smiled and hardly touched her. He knew how to drive her crazy. Making her work like this only drove her wilder, because she knew how sensational the end result would be. They had never done it in the shower before, and at last the cosy cottage bedroom took on a whole new decadent light. The smile stopped playing and Jonathan's lips dropped open as she moved her hands harder and faster up and down his shaft, working the soap into a luxurious lather. Sally felt his dick jump and pump, and she watched her own fingers, tiny as they gripped him. Then she left his cock and slid her hands back towards his balls, cupping them with one hand while the other travelled further back, up between his buttocks. She let her soapy forefinger dart straight into his tight butt-hole,
forcing a reaction from him, and she cackled softly as, at last, his hands stretched out helplessly and grabbed at her hips, then circled her waist and pulled her right into him. His cock was now jammed upright between her tits, and at last they were moving in rhythm, joined together again. Sally pushed her whole torso against him. She reached under him, and felt his balls retract with his mounting excitement while her finger poked higher and higher up into his tight crevice, reaching for the spot where she would tickle and prod and he would jump and gasp.

Her nipples were hard as they pressed against him and her stomach twisted again and again as she felt his penis grow longer, pinned as it was against her. She looked up at Jonathan and remembered how it had been between them – their brief but overpowering affair. That trip to Paris, their earth-shattering fight and his bitter betrayal. But now she was safe. She'd gone through the hoops of fire and was, in a way, on her own turf. She could do and say what she liked. She was doing what she liked right now, and Jonathan Dart was at her mercy, practically on his knees in the shower with her while she probed his most tender parts and kept him where she wanted him. She would always want him, despite his dirty dealings.

He began to shudder, and his hands clenched harder around her narrow hips, and then, just as she was about to scrunch his balls hard and strike up through him to set fire to that tiny spot, he took her hands and forced her to release her hold on him. The bubbles were running away and his cock was gleaming and clean, bouncing under the pounding needles of water. Sally licked her lips greedily, reaching out for it, but he spun her round so roughly that she grabbed onto the chrome
shower pipe to avoid slipping over on the soapy floor. He pressed himself up behind her so she could just make out his blurred reflection in the steamed-up shower panel. He lifted her so that her feet rested on the step which ran round the base of the shower tray, and cupped one large hand under her dripping bush. He parted her lips and thrust his fingers inside her, the water and soap mingling with her own juices. Sally's cunt was already contracting wildly to take in his long fingers, but he pulled them out again abruptly and parted her legs wider and wider until she started to rise right off her toes. She had always loved the way he made her feel like a living doll. The difference in their height had always made people comment when they had worked together. You could tell people were imagining what positions worked best, how a man rumoured to have the biggest schlong in London could fit it inside such a tiny woman, but there was no one to come forward and confirm that she had the most accommodating cunt in the UK.

Sally felt her stomach give a kick of desire as his familiar hands manipulated her into position. She was practically swinging off the shower rail now, and she knelt on the tops of his slightly-bent legs as he grappled her from behind. She knew he was strong enough to support her like that, and as he raised his pelvis she lowered her eager crotch to meet it. And then she felt it, the tip of his cock, ready and waiting, hard as iron. She rested her cheek against the panel for a moment, ecstatic to feel his shaft in there, wanting the moment of anticipation to go on forever while the water shot down onto them. And then another thought stole into her head: the thought of Janie, only a couple of days ago, sliding up and down that very same pole, tossing
her hair about while she made free with Jonathan's cock. Well, she was going to erase that pretty picture right now.

With a muffled shout of private glee, Sally steadied herself against the panel. She felt him solid and strong behind her, flexed and ready, and then she rammed herself down onto him, inch after glorious inch, filling herself with Jonathan's huge length. She descended slowly and triumphantly until her buttocks were squashed up against his stomach and his magnificent cock was practically holding her up. She let her hands go and heard him laugh, and then he tilted himself forwards so that they both started to fall. Sally let out a shriek as they landed on their hands and knees half in, half out of the shower. She started to crawl forwards, still impaled from behind by the biggest dick in the land. But he yanked her back inside the cubicle so that the water, now running cold, kept showering onto their backs. The cold seemed to make his cock even more rigid as it reared up inside her. Her nipples and the surface of her skin shrank against the cold water, tingling with tension as he started, very slowly, to thrust himself inside her, so that she was pushed and pulled across the slippery plastic floor with whatever movement he chose. Her hands and knees squeaked with the friction, his hands holding her wet bush against him, not needing to do anything more to stimulate her, just letting her tight pussy welcome and engulf him so that they were welded together. They were the beast with two backs, rocking back and forth on the floor, his prick bashing and thrusting so that she was pushed out of the cubicle and pulled back in. The water got colder and colder, and Jonathan pumped faster and faster, and Sally couldn't tell whether she was shivering from cold or from uncontrollable excitement.
She felt him accelerate his thrusts, and he started to breathe into her neck, resting his mouth and teeth there while he pumped and then lifted her off the ground with the force of his orgasm. Sally wiggled her hips from side to side to give herself more friction as she rubbed her clit. She felt her own muscles close round him like a vice then yield themselves into an explosive climax as he pulled her right up against him and pumped his juices into her while hers flowed and mingled with the freezing water and the ebbing bubbles.