I stand at the bar where she works, looking at her. Every time she walks past, the scent of her coconut shampoo trails behind her. She’s wearing a gypsy-style floor length dress with slits at the side that go up to her thighs, and I wonder if she knows how her hips sway beneath it when she walks.
She won’t return my eye contact while her grandfather is here, I know her too well now to think she would do anything she thought of as too bold. She likes keeping us a secret, she tells me sometimes, because it’s all the more exciting. And I have to agree with her when her grandfather comes in to do a few jobs behind the bar; dropping hints and clues about fucking his granddaughter has kept me entertained for almost a whole hour of today.
“You’re looking well, Nick,” he told me when he saw me, taking a proper look at my face and how it’s changed. “You look at least ten years younger. Christ, what have you been doing?” We hadn’t seen each other for a while, but I greeted Albert like the old friend he is and slapped him on the back with the same hand I used to spank Eva this morning before she started her shift.
“Just eating the right things,” I told him, glancing at Eva when his back was turned. She glared down at the pages of the book she was pretending to read.
He looked at me in disbelief for a while, as have the other people I have seen over the past week. None of them have gone without noticing how an apparent fifty year old has somehow obtained the rejuvenated looks and features of someone almost twenty years his junior in such a short amount of time.
“Come on, what’s your secret?” Albert asked, raising his eyebrows. “I could do with a bit of whatever it is you’re doing.”
“You wouldn’t have the stamina to keep up any more, old man,” I joked, earning a chuckle and a sly wink from him.
When he finally goes down to the cellar I move closer to Eva. Her cheeks are still blushing a shade of crimson, and I almost feel bad for her.
“My house tonight,” I tell her in a low voice. Our nightly visits to each other had taken place exclusively at her cousin’s house, and I was craving the chance for us to be properly alone together.
She considers it for a second, as though I’m asking her and not telling her. A slight frown furrows her brow, and I know she has something to say.
“Come on, spit it out,” I tell her gently. I almost forget the bar isn’t empty and reach out to touch her cheek.
“Can’t we do something else tonight? You know… go out. Do something. Go somewhere. Talk to each other.”
I smile at her teasingly. “Are you asking me out on a date, Eva?”
“No,” she says too quickly, with the over emphasised disgust of a child denying they have a crush.
“I suppose I can try and think of something,” I tell her, before I hear her grandfather’s footsteps coming up from the cellar and we pretend we’re nothing more than acquaintances.
POV: Eva
His car pulls up outside Beth’s house at exactly 7pm. Beth fusses over me like a mother sending her daughter off to prom, scrunching up the curls in my hair, spraying the last sprays of perfume on me, telling me to have fun. The evening air is cool and still, but I still feel a heat that spreads inside me when Nikolai watches me walk towards the car and climb into the passenger seat.
“Where are we going?” I ask. I’ve played it safe with a pair of black skinny jeans, a blue lace top and a leather jacket, wearing wedges on my feet. Hopefully it’s suitable for whatever he has planned. Underneath I have a matching lilac bra and thong set, prepared for later on in the night.
He takes a bag from the back seat and places it on my lap. I hear glass bottles clinking together inside it.
“To the cinema,” he’s clearly very proud of himself. “But don’t worry, there won’t be any awkward backseat groping you kids are into,” he jokes, “it’s an outdoor screening.”
“I’m impressed,” I tell him.
He grins. “I know.”
It takes half an hour to drive there, but when we finally reach the park I realise it was worth the wait. Fairy lights have been hung on the branches of trees, a truck selling fast food and popcorn sits at the back of the people scattered about on blankets on the grass. We choose a spot near one of the largest trees off to the side, and I’m excited about the privacy. He lays his jacket on the ground for me to sit on before he sprawls out next to me, leaning back on his elbows and stretching his legs out in front of him.
He hands me the wine. One bottle each, and we don’t bother with glasses.
We tell each other about ourselves while we’re waiting for the film to start; my degree at university, countries we’ve visited, interesting people we’ve met, the music we like, the books we’ve read.
He takes back a mouthful of red wine and looks at me with a playful gleam in his eye. “Let me ask you this,” he says, as though he’s about to offer up a challenge. “Why did you decide to kiss me the first time we had sex over the bar?”
I shrug. “I saw the way you looked at me when I started working there. It excited me. I suppose I’ve always liked older men.”
The lights around us are dimmed as the film begins to start up, so I can barely make out his facial expression but I can hear the hunger in his voice when he whispers that the film is two hours long and afterwards we’re going straight home.
It’s hard to pay attention to the movie at first. I’m so close to Nikolai I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. The smell of his clothes and his skin, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, the contour of his bone structure in the moonlight – they distract me from the actors and the special effects and the storyline.
Halfway through the bottle of wine I become intoxicated and brave enough to lean over and nibble his earlobe. He tells me to behave and I giggle, sweet and innocent; by now I know that’s what gets him off.
I focus on the film as the plot develops, but I can’t help but check the time on my phone occasionally to see how long is left before it finishes.
The other half of the bottle of wine goes down as smoothly as the first half, and I become more and more bold, touching Nikolai’s thigh and whispering things into his ear.
“Be patient,” he tells me, but his smile tells me he enjoys seeing me like this: so vocal and confident about what I want from him.
The anticipation of what the rest of the night brings is enough to make me wet, despite the people sat just a few feet away from us. When the movie finishes and the credits finally start rolling, Nikolai pulls me up from the grass and we walk towards the car as fast as we can without running.
POV: Nikolai
Eva’s shoes are off and she’s curled up in the passenger seat, nibbling tiny bites at the burger I insisted on buying for her right before we left the park. I’ve been enjoying the effect alcohol has had on her, and when she asks me to pull over and fuck her in the back seat I almost comply. It’s one of the only times I’ve heard her swear.
She wraps what’s left of her burger up in the paper bag it came in and holds it out to me. “I’m full,” she announces.
“Have one more bite for me,” I encourage her gently.
She takes another tiny mouthful, and when I tell her what a good girl she is she practically purrs.
The roads become less and less busy as I drive closer to my house and away from the city centre. The view out of the windows becomes greener and darker, and by the time I take the final turn onto the dirt track that leads up to the house the world seems completely still and silent.
I help her out of the car and put my hand around her tiny waist as we make our way up the steps towards the front door. She tells me to hurry when I unlock the door, but her impatience is fun to toy with and it only inspires me to make her wait longer and see how frustrated I can get her.
She walks through to the living room, holding her wedges in her hand, standing almost a foot and a half shorter than me. She looks around, taking in the bookshelves of which there are plenty, the large open plan kitchen, the flat-screen television, the expensive sofa and armchairs.
I had been watching her the way one watches an unfamiliar animal, interested and entertained but keeping a distance and letting it do it’s own thing. I can smell her perfume from across the room and the scent of grass lingers on her skin; before I can stop myself I move towards her and press my lips against hers. The wine has made her confident, and she reacts with a hunger and a certainty that I hadn’t seen before tonight. She slides her tongue into my mouth and grabs little fistfuls of my hair, pulling so it hurts. I moan into her mouth and she presses herself even closer to me.
“Someone’s excited,” I murmur against her lips.
She exhales a flustered breath, sweet and warm, and asks me to fuck her again.
I place my palm against her chest, feeling the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath she takes before I push her down onto the couch. “Trust me, I’m going to. Just be patient,” I tell her, and she lets out a frustrated whine.
I walk over to the kitchen and pour myself a drink, leaning against the kitchen counter and taking slow deliberate sips as she watches me like a cat. Her bottom lip is jutted out into a small pout that makes me want to bite down on it hard.
She stands up and makes her way over to the kitchen island between us, stumbling a little off balance before she finally reaches it. She looks at me with her eyes, big and innocent, and giggles at her own drunkenness. My erection presses against the denim of my jeans. I can barely wait any longer, but I just about manage.
“I thought I told you to be patient,” I remind her, my voice the right balance between stern and playful that I know excites her even more.
“Oops.” She cocks her head to one side and smiles. She says it like it’s a challenge; she knows exactly what to say and how to say it to get a reaction from me, and finally I give in. I close the space between us in one stride and grab a handful of her curls. She moans in delight at the sharp tug I give her hair and she knows she’s won; I can’t wait any longer.
I pull her by her hair towards the back of the house where the staircase is, push her onto the floor and tell her to crawl. She bites her lip coyly as she crawls on her hands and knees towards the first step, and I realise the reason she enjoys submitting to me is because she wants to see how far I’ll let her push the boundaries I set before there are consequences.
I slap her ass hard and she lets out a noise halfway between a moan and a sob.
“That’s for being a brat,” I tell her, my voice cold and hard. Another slap just for good measure. “Now get up those stairs.”
I follow behind her and overtake her when she gets to the top, grabbing her by the hair again to pull her into my bedroom in a matter of seconds. I practically throw her onto the king-sized bed in the middle of the room and she squeals with delight.
“Are you angry with me?” She asks the question like it’s the most exciting thing in the world, while her hands move down underneath the waistband of her jeans so she can touch herself.
I take her arms and pin them down onto the bed above her head, and already her fingers are dripping wet with her own juices. With my other free hand I give her face a gentle slap.
“I will be if you don’t start behaving,” I tell her sternly.
I undress her slowly and hold her down again, where she writhes against me completely naked, her soft breasts heaving with the effort. Finally, I give her what she wants and slide two fingers into her, watching as her eyes roll upwards just before they flutter shut and she begins to moan. I make room for a third finger, pushing harder into her with every thrust of my hand. I lean down to take one of her pink nipples in my mouth, nipping it between my teeth as I feel it grow harder against my tongue. I travel down her chest, kissing every inch of her soft ivory skin between her breasts and her bellybutton. I release my grip on her wrists so I can continue kissing down towards her pelvis and immediately feel her fingers entwined with my hair, pulling and tugging and stroking.
I grab her wrists again and push them back over her head. I need to teach her a lesson so I push a fourth finger into her dripping pussy and slap her face harder, my palm meeting her cheek for an instant and leaving a red mark. Her eyes well up with tears and she writhes against me breathlessly. I shush her until she calms down enough for me to leave a trail of kisses down her lower abdomen before I take her clit between my lips and massage it with my tongue. I vary the pressure and pattern in which I lick, bringing her to the very edge of an orgasm before I take it away again until she begs me to stop. I ask her whether she has learnt her lesson, and only when she cries out “yes!” do I allow her to reach a climax. Still intoxicated and with no fear of family members hearing, Eva’s moans almost amount to a scream at the peak of her orgasm, and I watch her, completely enraptured. She arches her back, pressing herself harder against my face, her hands clutching the sheets above her head, breasts heaved upwards. I fit my thumb inside her without her even noticing and begin pushing against her to fit my whole hand inside. I ball my hand into a fist and push hard, just the once. It brings her back to her senses and she gasps at the sharp pain it must cause her to be stretched out so much.
She breaks my rule again and moves her arms, grabbing my forearm with both hands, fingernails scratching my skin.
“Oh God,” she pants, eyes wide as her breath comes in quick little panicked bursts.
“Have you ever been fisted before, Eva?” I ask her calmly, pushing my hand into her as slowly and gently as possible, and yet the sensation still apparently overwhelms her.
“No!” She pants. “No, no, no, no, no! Oh God, please… it’s too much!” It comes out as a breathless moan as her fingernails dig deeper into my skin and I can’t tell whether she’s trying to pull it out or push it further in.
“You’re doing so well,” I tell her softly, “I’m almost there now.”
I push a little harder and her wetness allows the knuckle of my thumb to slide right inside her. She must feel the difference because her eyes widen in surprise and she begins to pant and moan at the same time, though this time her body is completely still.
I’m impressed that such a petite frame could take a fisting from someone as tall as me on the first attempt, and I feel a sudden surge of pride at her determination and gumption.
“Such a good girl,” I tell her and she beams at me through the tears welling in her eyes. I push a little further, seeing how far she’ll let me take it. I’m wrist-deep inside her before she yells out and asks me to be gentle, so I move my arm back and forth gently, watching her tits jiggle with the movement of her body.
I kiss her long and slow and she lets out small, soft moans against my lips with each little thrust back and forth of my hand.
“I’m very proud of you – taking my entire fist in your tight little cunt on the first try.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and holds onto me tightly when I pull my fist out. Her entire body relaxes and she looks as though she can barely stay awake; when I tell her I’ve rubbed my saliva over her entrance and against the walls of her cunt so I can cum inside her she barely even responds. My spit does the job and heals how sore she must feel, because when I finally strip and push my cock inside her she doesn’t wince or cry. I make my thrusts hard enough to rouse her, and after a little while she begins to moan quietly and move her hips against mine. Her lips are parted slightly, deliciously pink and wet.
She’s warm and tight around me and it doesn’t take long for me to reach my climax and fill her already dripping pussy up. I tuck her into bed beneath the covers and nip her shoulder when I’m finished, taking a small mouthful of blood, its hot metallic taste coating my tongue as she falls asleep in my arms.