Read Sexier Side of the Hill Online
Authors: Victoria Blisse
A Total-e-bound Publication
The Sexier Side of the Hill
©Copyright Victoria Blisse 2008
Cover Art by Anne Cain ©Copyright April 2008
Edited by Michele Paulin
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-e-bound eBooks.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-e-bound eBooks. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2008 by Total-e-bound eBooks 1 The Corner,
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated
SEXIER SIDE OF THE HILL
To Kev, my dedicated husband. Without his support and encouragement I would never have started writing or had the confidence to go ahead and get printed. Thank you, sweetheart.
It was late, or was it early? It was one of those morning hours that rest in the middle of the night and I was beginning to regret my clever, money saving idea.
“Ticket please.” The bus driver, at least, looked semi-awake. The bags under his eyes were old and worn in, like favourite slippers. I handed him my slip of shiny cardboard, and he clipped it, passing it back as I stepped up into the bus.
The smell of cheap cleaning products and musty seats enveloped me as I trudged down the aisle to the very back. I know it’s somewhat childish, but I couldn’t seem to shake the need to get as far away from the driver as possible. I settled in the back corner and marvelled at the number of nutters getting on this very bus at rude o’clock in the morning.
My excuse? I’m nearly forty. I graduated in the summer as a doctor and I wanted to throw a party. So I was off to France for cheap booze and an adventure.
The first few travellers to board after me were pensioners, a couple who smiled and nodded to the others up front. The gentleman helped his wife remove her coat and pressed a hand to her arm as she slipped into their seats. How very romantic.
It was the last two men to get on who really grabbed my attention. They were both handsome but completely different in appearance. The dark haired, cocoa-skinned guy was smooth and slick, his clothes pressed and reeking of expense. His complexion shone, and his shaven cheeks glowed with the health afforded by expensive beauty products.
The other man was rougher. His chin was studded with tiny whiskers which combined with the groggy look to his blue eyes and showed me he hadn’t been awake very long. He was dressed for comfort. His old, worn jeans definitely hadn’t been bought in such a shabby-chic condition and the old denim jacket was in matching condition. The t-shirt beneath it all was plain but clean.
I wanted to leap on both of them, to dive in and take a bite from the smooth darkness and the light charm at exactly the same time. My mind, already filled with naughty images, and my body were on an erotic edge. It wouldn’t take much to tumble me over. I felt a tiny pang of guilt, thinking of Darren, my ex-boyfriend. I’d loved him—probably still did—but I remembered the fresh pain of us breaking up. It was time to move on, I reminded myself. I was indeed single again. I might not have been happy about it, but I was free and well within my rights to fantasise about these two handsome guys.
They sat on the seats across from me, their musk and citrus scents permeating the air. They both smiled as they sat down and I grinned back. I really wanted to speak, but I couldn’t think of a word to say. Put me at the scene of a horrific car crash and I’ll be as cool as a cucumber, calmly in control. Place me in a room with a dying cancer patient and I’ll find the words of comfort they need to hear. But put me in the presence of hot men and I seize up completely.
Luckily, one of them broke the silence.
“Excuse me.” The dark stranger smiled, his deep voice rounded by a plumy accent. “Do you know what time we will be arriving in Calais?”
“I think the driver said about lunchtime,” I replied, trying my best to smile seductively.
“Great,” the bit of rough growled, his voice vibrating straight into my cunt. “I can get a bit more kip now, then.”
The smooth gentleman smiled apologetically as his friend leaned back and rested his head on the window.
“Excuse, Paul.” He smiled. “He went out last night, and he’s still feeling a tad hung-over. My name’s Simon, by the way.”
“Hi Simon.” I held out my hand as my doctor’s programming kicked in. I was grateful for it as his manicured fingers crushed mine confidently, his warm touch better than I had imagined.
“I’m Michelle or Doctor Phillips if you prefer. I’ve just graduated.”
“Nice to meet you. And congratulations, then.” Paul sat up and offered his hand to me with a glint in his eye. When I reached to shake it, and he pulled back. “Nah, I didn’t want to shake hands, love. I want to show you this thing ‘ere.”
He pushed himself past his friend and sat on the seat beside me. He held out his right hand again and pointed with his left finger. “I was doing a bit of carpentry yesterday, restoring this kick ass chair, right, and as I was running my hand over it, I felt a pain and I reckon I’ve got a splinter but it’s so fucking, pardon my French, small that I can’t see it properly.”
“Well,” I replied. “I don’t normally do these things willy-nilly, but let’s have a see.”
I took his hand in mine and ran my finger around the area he had pointed to, the roughness of it making me imagine his hand slapping my buttock.
“Hmmm, it certainly looks like a splinter to me, but you’re right, it’s very small.”
“See, I told you it was a splinter.” He humphed at Simon, knocking the broadsheet paper he had been reading from his hands. He shook his head.
“I thought it was just a scratch, you’re such a damn cry baby about everything.” Simon rolled his eyes and lifted his paper, ignoring his friend once again.
“No, I’m not,” he growled at the back of Simon’s paper, and I couldn’t help but grin. Maybe I’d gotten the wrong vibe from these two. I could have sworn they were straight mates, but the more they went on the more they sounded like an old married couple.
I dipped into my handbag, unzipped a pocket and pulled out my tweezers.
“It’s lucky you’ve bumped into a lady doctor, really. I have the perfect splinter removing tool on my person.”
“Aww, shit, this is going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“It’ll hurt less than having that chunk of wood irritating you for the next goodness knows how many days.” I smiled and he grinned back before sighing dramatically.
“Oh, go on then, Doc. I can handle it.”
I switched on the interior light above me, and cradled his big, work-roughened hand in mine and delicately gripped my tweezers in the other. His brows knitted tightly together and his muscles stiffened as he anticipated pain. I soothed him with whispered words of kindness and the splinter slipped out easily.
“That didn’t hurt at all,” he exclaimed as I showed him the little chip of wood that had been irritating him. “Thank you, Doctor.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek.
“Oh, you’re welcome.” I was flustered. His lips caressing my flesh took me by surprise but it was pleasant. More than pleasant, in fact. Erotic, even.
“Yes, thank you,” Simon added. “He’ll stop moaning like a baby about it now.”
“My pleasure.” I nodded. “It is my job after all.”
“So what’s a gorgeous doctor doing on the hangover express?” Paul asked and my cheeks flushed.
“I need some booze for a party, and I fancied an adventure.”
“Ahh, cool.” Paul nodded. “We’re off to stock up Simon’s wine cellar. We just finished building it. You’d be amazed how much work goes into creating an essentially cold, dark room.”
“You’ve got to get the atmosphere just right for wine, right?” I didn’t really know. The kind of wine I usually drank was made yesterday. But I was desperate to keep the conversation going in hopes of more erotic interaction later.
“Well, so Simon says.” Paul’s eyes rolled and I laughed.
“You’re like an old married couple.” I grinned and Paul blushed.
“Oh, don’t you start. All our mates say that, too.”
“We’ve been living together too long, Paul,” Simon added, prodding him. “People are starting to think you’re gay.”
“And you’re not!” he grumbled. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken up with a man who plucks his eyebrows.”
“So you guys aren’t…” I asked, confused.
“Oh hell, no,” Simon enthused. “Just house mates.”
“We’re good at sharing aren’t we, Si?” Paul nudged his friend and he grinned.
“That we are, me old china.” The slang words sounded strained in his plumy accent, and I couldn’t help myself. A snorting laugh exploded from my mouth.
“We met at university,” Simon continued. “Paul designs houses, and I design their interiors. It all works really rather well.”
“Is there a Mr. Dr. Phillips at all?” Paul interrupted, rather bluntly, but I decide his charm and good looks let him get away with such personal questions.
“Well, actually, no. I’m a single doctor, actually.”
“You’re still at the partying stage, then?”
“Simon and I are at the stay in and watch a film stage now. Our partying days are long gone I’m afraid.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “You’re both way too young to be anywhere near over the hill.”
“Why thank you.” Simon smiled from behind the broad side of the Times. “We really are getting on now. We’re getting towards the wrong end of thirty.”
“You think that’s bad? Try being on the doorstep of forty. Now that’s depressing.”
“Oh, go away. You’re not forty, surely.” Simon shook his head.
“Well, I’m thirty-nine as it stands, but I hit that big four-o within a matter of days.”
“Well, you look stunning on it,” Paul injected and I grinned rather manically, pleased by the compliment. “We both fancied you before we even got to the backseat.”
“Oh, hush.” Simon blushed. His dark skin took on a flustered tone like the centre of a rich cherry truffle.
“Really?” I replied, flattered and excited by this confession. How could these guys fancy me? I’m old and sad, the years of training and the horrific break up with Darren had left their marks on me.
“Yes, really,” Paul continued. “That’s why we came to sit back here…in hopes we could chat you up.”
“Both of you?” The conversation spiced up nicely.
“We said we’re good at sharing.” Simon joined the conversation, sharing a purposeful look with his friend.
“Yeah,” Paul continued, picking up where Simon had left of with a cheeky smile and a flirty look. “And it seems we’re both sharing some symptoms, Doc.”
“Oh, yes? I’d better examine you both, then.” I stood and waved my hand, beckoning Paul forward towards me.
Paul got the message and moved a seat over, and I sat between the two men.
“What are these shared symptoms?” I asked, my hearth thudding in my chest. I had seen the knowing glances and read the lustful smiles. I hoped this was going to be something fun and raunchy but worried they had actual, real symptoms for me to work on.
“Well, we’ve become hot all over , Doctor. I think we’re both running fevers.”
“I will be the judge of that,” I said, reaching out and pressing a hand to each of their foreheads. “Oh yes, you certainly both seem to be hot.”
“And our hearts are beating ever so fast.”
I moved my hands down to hover over each of their chests then gently pressed my hands over each heart. I enjoyed the feel of their strong muscles as I pretended to assess their heart rates. I was rather enjoying the game, well, I suspected it was a game.
“Yes, your hearts are both racing, but I’ll need more specific symptoms before I can make a diagnosis.”
“Oh, well, the other symptom is a bit embarrassing, Doctor.” Paul shifted in his seat, pulling off a fairly good impression of being nervous.
I rested a hand on each strong thigh, squeezed my fingers together and clenched my own thighs as lust coursed through my veins. I was giving them the signal. If they wanted to play they could but they still had the opportunity to decline my offer without causing a scene. I was so nervous and desperate for them to play the game with me. “Don’t worry, you can tell me anything. I
a professional, after all.”
“Swelling.” Simon whispered.
Paul nodded and said “There is an incredibly uncomfortable swelling in my…erm…crotch area and I can see that Simon is having the same problem.”
My mind raced. This was it. This was exactly what I had wanted and I had to take it. I’ve always been a “do now” kind of girl, and I didn’t want to miss this glorious opportunity. The idea when it came was a simple one. I reached over Paul’s lap and picked up the paper I had brought along for a little light reading.
“Okay,” I said, unfolding it and placing it in his hands. “If you’d both like to come behind the privacy screen, I’ll examine you and try to ascertain exactly what your problem is.” My heart pounded like a drum, my mouth dry with nerves and my pussy wet with need.
“Certainly.” Paul slid closer to me whilst Simon repeated the action with his paper to my other side.
I took a deep breath and bit down the nerves that made my stomach flutter. I was positive they both wanted me to do this but until I made the first move there was a degree of doubt. I slipped a hand behind each paper and down to the crotches of these two near strangers. I felt the swelling through their clothes and commented so as I attempted to undo two flies simultaneously.
Delicious anticipation built as I slowly eased down the zips and fished around to find openings in boxers. Their cocks were hot and eager as I encouraged them out of their warm confines with little trouble. Gently, I assessed the situation, thoroughly examining each member with my fingers. Both were hard but Simon’s was slimmer and longer while Paul’s cock was deliciously thick and stout. Both made my mouth water and my pussy pulsate.