Читать книгу Exposure - Various, Glenda Jackson - Страница 5

He scared the shit out of her, popping up over her back fence that way. Gina clutched her chest for a minute and waited for her fluttery heart to settle.

‘Dear God,’ she said mostly to herself, but he heard. She knew he heard because he shot her an adorable crooked grin that could only be pulled off by youth.

‘Sorry, missus. Thought you saw me.’

‘No. I didn’t.’ She wheezed it more than said it and then tried her own smile on again. ‘So you’re my new neighbour?’

She was deliberately ignoring the way the slow lazily drawled missus had suddenly taken root deep in her belly. Causing her face to flush in a way that had nothing to do with the heat and humidity.

‘One of them. My parents bought the house. I’m just here until school starts. Junior year of college, here I come. Few more days, though. Rick.’ He stuck his hand out over her fence. Big hand, deeply tanned and firm and smooth. He was a kid, really. Of course he was firm and smooth.

‘Pardon?’

‘Rick. My name? It’s Rick.’

Oh my God. She was mental.

‘Hi, sorry. Sorry! I told you, you startled me right into stupidity.’

That was a lie. His beauty had stunned her into stupidity.

‘Gina. Gina Monroe. Nice to meet you, Rick.’

He tipped her a nod, grey-green eyes doing a subtle but noticeable sweep of her. ‘Missus,’ he said again.

She felt downright naked despite her black shorts and her grey tank top and her flip-flops. The baseball cap on her head seemed to weigh a ton and Gina became overtly aware of her top sticking to her sweaty skin. No bra. How hard were her nipples? Her mind was racing.

She shook her head. ‘Um. Where are you from?’

She could distract herself from the fact that a thick tempo had started in her blood and was now thrumming between her legs. Was this what heat stroke felt like?

Stuart had warned her not to garden in the middle of the afternoon. Early or late was his motto. Before ten or after dinner. Never at two, which was roughly what time it was.

She had heat stroke, that was the answer.

‘Alabama,’ he said, watching her slyly.

She almost said ‘What?’ because she’d already forgotten her question. But she caught herself and for that she was grateful. ‘I can hear it in your voice.’

He nodded. ‘And I can hear the city in yours.’

He was eyeing her lazily now. Gina was positive he knew what kind of chaos was going on inside of her and that he’d caused it. She didn’t often respond so viscerally to men – any men – but certainly not young men. She had nothing to say. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and her brain had shut down.

So when his head turned and he said, in that sinful rich drawl of his, ‘Cable man’s here. Guess I have to go let him in,’ she nearly fainted from relief.

‘Nice meeting you,’ she managed.

‘You too, missus.’ Then he was gone.

Gina watched him recede like a mirage. Tall and lanky, leanly muscled and deeply tanned – this was a young man who spent a lot of time outside. Broad shoulders were hidden beneath a washed blue T-shirt that was probably soft as sin to touch. Gina imagined herself pressing her cheek to that fabric. Feeling the solid muscle beneath, smelling sun and young man and summer air on him.

‘I have heat stroke,’ she said to herself.

But it wasn’t heat stroke that drove her into the cool of the basement and into the small powder room. Stuart was somewhere in the house puttering around or watching golf. He’d never know.

She locked the door and pushed down her shorts and panties and ripped off her gardening gloves. As she planted her ass, aching from all the squatting while she weeded, on the navy-blue fuzzy toilet-seat cover, her fingers went instinctively to where she needed them. One attacking her swollen throbbing clit with a trembling touch, two more buried deep into her cunt. She narrowed in on her G-spot – so hot, so confused, so very needy she just wanted to get off.

Gina did not need finesse. She needed an orgasm. How long had it been, she wondered, but forgot to care as she hooked her fingers and banged that plump spot deep in her pussy into submission.

Her fingers delivered just the right amount of pressure while visions of a twenty-something young man ricocheted around inside her head. That soft T-shirt, those tanned hands, grey-green eyes and plump kissable lips. The short brown hair that fell just so over his brow and, Jesus God, that honeyed twang saying missus …

Gina came with a hoarse cry that she immediately stifled by biting her lips. Her back slapped the whitewashed wall and she continued to thrust slowly as her pussy flickered with aftershocks. She rolled a lazy fingertip over her clit and enjoyed the sudden and brisk sweetness of the moment. How long had it been since she’d done that?

A sharp knock made her jump.

‘Yes?’

It had to be Stuart, who else would it be? But it still startled her and for a moment her stunned brain supplied her with a porno-movie vision of the young stud standing on the other side of the door. Knocking. Wanting to come in and milk another sugary orgasm out of her … his way.

‘Are you OK?’

It was Stuart. Of course it is, you twit!

‘I’m fine. Just finishing up. Why?’

Her voice was high and watery and guilty as hell. But it had been so good. So unexpected and so … feral. Her hands were shaking and she washed them well to get rid of the earthy scent of her own sex.

‘I thought I heard you yell,’ he said to the door. When she pulled it open, he stepped back startled for a moment. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

‘I am. Why?’

‘You’re flushed is all.’ He put the back of his hand to her cheek as if to prove it.

Gina didn’t see it coming. She simply grabbed her unsuspecting husband by his ears and hauled him in for a kiss.

‘Gina, are you –?’

‘Shut up. Shut up. Have you ever done it in a laundry room before?’

‘No,’ Stuart sighed as she kissed his neck greedily.

‘Take your pants off.’

Stuart didn’t take much convincing. Twenty years of marriage had slowed them down a bit but they still got it on regularly and were pretty creative. But nothing like this. Not this hurried heated coupling that usually came only from brand-new connections.

He licked her nipples the way he always did but randomly decided to bite and the bites shot heat right through her middle, making her chest burn and her pussy flex. Gina pushed him away, turned her back and presented herself. Ass high, shorts tangled on one ankle, body slick and ready for him.

‘Fuck me.’

‘Gi–’

‘Do it. Put it in me.’

He looked like a man who’d been tasered but he approached her, cock in hand, and slid the weeping tip of himself to her split. Stuart put the head in – only the head – the pressure almost unbearable to her. Gina grunted, pushed back on him, impaling herself.

When he entered her, they both stilled, groaned. And then her proper kind husband shoved her upper body down on the washing machine and truly gave it to her, at one point thrusting so hard into her wet cunt that only the tips of her toes were touching the floor. The washing machine grunted and wheezed like a third part and, when Gina growled, ‘Pinch me,’ Stuart groaned and pinched her hard.

His lips were pressed together hard and she knew he was close. Gina’s orgasm rocketed towards her, slippery and delicious. She flexed up around him, pushed her pelvis to the cool metal and closed her eyes.

Well-worn cotton, grey-green eyes, sticky-sweet drawl. She came.

Stuart muttered, ‘Thank God.’ His fingers bit deep into her hips as he drove into her and then he was coming too, letting loose some warrior cry she’d never heard from him before.

When they finally parted, he kissed her, pushing a long stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. ‘What got into you?’

She shrugged. Missus … ‘Nothing. I guess I just got a bit overheated.’

Stuart smiled. And Gina, she couldn’t help grinning like an idiot.

* * *

Stuart was asleep. Snuggled up in their proper bed with their proper white sheets and their dust ruffle. The kinky laundry-room doggie-style sex over but not forgotten. Stuart had been super-attentive all night and Gina had repeatedly found herself flushed, warm and smiling for no reason.

Gina wandered into the guest room with a glass of wine. Her summer robe clutched tight around her middle. Her body pleasantly sore, her mind pleasantly astounded.

Rick from Alabama waiting for school to start …

It whispered through her mind and Gina sipped her wine and said, ‘Has made you a pervert.’

She blinked once, twice, three times, sure that what she was seeing out of the guest-room window was a hallucination. Too much sun, too much lust, too many orgasms – as if there were such a thing – had twisted her mind. But the mirage of a lean handsome young man raised a hand to her and smiled.

In what must be his new room, at least until school started, stood Rick, plainly visible to her across the small expanses of their dark back yards. From her perspective, a doll-sized but perfectly rendered version of himself.

Shirtless.

‘Oh, God.’

There were several heartbeats where they simply stared. She wondered what he would do. She also wondered why she hadn’t done the sane thing and tossed him a friendly wave and then left the room. Or shut the curtains. Or anything that would indicate she had sense left in her head.

‘Oh, God,’ she echoed herself because Rick was unbuttoning his jeans and drawing down the zipper.

His gaze remained pinned to hers. Apparently, he could make her out just by the small lamp that automatically came on when the room grew dark. Gina had never been grateful that her backyard was so small and the houses on their block were so close … until now.

Her pussy flexed wetly, stomach dropping as if she were in free-fall. Gina pressed her thighs together only to discover that it enhanced the feeling instead of quelling it. In his brightly lit room, Rick with the languid drawl pushed his jeans down and took his cock in hand.

Even from the distance, she could tell he was hung. And hung wasn’t even a word she’d normally use, but it suited this young man.

‘Oh, Lord. Look away, woman.’ But she knew she wouldn’t so she ignored her own words.

The most sinful part of it all was that gaze of his locked on her. He knew she was there. He knew she was watching. And he wanted her to see.

That alone set off another slippery clench deep in her cunt and she tightened those internal muscles even further to make the pleasure last. She did it again, and again, as he stroked his cock and kept his eyes on her.

He was close to the window. So close that she wondered if he could feel the warmth of the day still trapped in the glass like she could. Gina had taken several steps forward without even realising it.

The better to see you with, my dear …

A burble of nervous laughter escaped her but she pressed her body, the cool silk robe whispering softly, to the warm windowpane.

He did the same.

His fist slipped up and down his length. She watched him squeeze, manhandling himself way harder than she would ever think to touch a man. He was rough and rude and fast on his erection and his half-smile turned her almost inside out. A small trickle of fluid escaped her and kissed the tops of her thighs. She was going to need to do something about that or she’d never get to sleep.

When she placed her hands on the warm glass, like a dieting woman lusting after a bakery display, to see him better, she saw him smile. He jerked himself a few more times, cupped his balls and came with a groan she could not hear but could see because his head tipped back a bit. His come splashed the window he was so fucking close to the glass, and that made her shiver hotly from head to toe.

He put his hand to the glass, gave her a nod and she imagined she heard him say missus. Then he turned from the window and the lights went out.

Gina sank to the guest bed, facing the far wall. She spread her legs, thankful that beneath her nighty she was bare, and plunged her fingers into her slippery sex. She thrust hard, remembering how hard he’d been with himself. Her free hand plucked and rubbed her swollen clit until she had to capture her tongue between her teeth to remain silent. Her orgasm was brilliant white with bits of pink in the darkness of the dim room.

She flopped back on the bed, covering herself with her robe. Rick, he’d done it to her again. Again …

* * *

It was really hard to focus on weeds when you kept reliving a hot young guy ejaculating on to glass just for your viewing pleasure, this was something Gina was starting to realise. After the third time she pulled a flower instead of a weed, she sat back with a sigh.

‘Bad day?’

His voice was all warm sunshine and hay bales. Gina glanced up with a small start, then laughed. ‘Oh my gosh. You are like a ninja.’

‘I like it. I’ll put that on my résumé. Part-time ninja.’

And sex performer …

‘Did you sleep well, missus?’

‘I did,’ she said. She felt as if her voice was barely audible. He was pressed the fence, watching her. ‘You?’

‘Pretty good. I usually have pre-going-to-school jitters. Junior year is going to be intense. But, hey, you only do college once, right?’

‘Right.’

‘I usually find something to do before bed to blow off some steam.’

Like masturbate for the neighbours …

She bit her lip to swallow a crazy burst of laughter. He almost grinned at her, just his upper lip curling a touch to show he could pretty much read her mind.

‘You have a good day, missus.’ The way he said it made her want to climb the fence and cling to him. Kiss him and touch him and let that stubble she could see on his jawline rub against her own skin and burn her.

‘You too.’

And then he was gone.

She waited for her heartbeat to stabilise and her vision, which had gone blurry with the adrenaline rush, to clear. Then she dropped her trowel and hurried inside. She paused to wash her hands because Stuart was that kind of person and took the steps two at a time.

‘Hey, there you are, I was just finishing up these numbers and then I thought we could –’

‘Fuck me,’ she blurted, taking her shorts off right there in the dining room that her husband had set up as his work-from-home office.

‘What?’

‘Did I stutter?’

‘N-no,’ he stuttered. Which almost made her laugh but she was too far gone.

‘Get it up. I mean off. Get them off and then get it up,’ she barked.

Gina tossed her cut-offs and her hot-pink panties. They landed by the china cabinet. Stuart was busily working his zipper and getting his pants off. He looked turned on and yet terribly scared, too.

She laughed. ‘Don’t worry I won’t hurt you. Unless …’

Gina dropped to his lap and put her hand over his. She moved their hands in unison up and down the rigid length of his cock. Stuart, confused but on board, sighed into her mouth as she kissed him.

‘Unless what?’ he asked as she put the tip of him to her soaked cunt and started to lower herself.

‘Unless you ask me to, Stu.’

He blinked at her and Gina took that moment to slide herself down on him and start to move. She grasped his shoulders hard and rocked against him.

‘Gina, what has gotten into you?’

His lips were on her neck, her collarbone, his fingers pinching her nipples just the way she liked.

‘You have gotten into me.’ She chuckled. ‘You and your big hard cock.’

‘Dick.’

‘I prefer cock,’ she said and squeezed him with her inner muscles.

‘You always have.’ He grinned at her and she rolled her hips from side to side, erasing that smile from his face. It was replaced with a look of astonished desire.

‘Fuck me,’ she hissed.

And he started to. As she pushed herself down, holding the chair now to manage her exertion, he thrust up, driving himself deep into her. Gina leaned back, the top of the chair in a death grip. Her hips had taken on a rhythm of their own and Stu had lost his manners altogether. He drove up under her and, when she leaned back just a touch more, his mouth found her breath and he bit her. Just enough. Just enough to drive Gina out of her fucking mind.

And she came.

‘Christ,’ her husband sighed. Now his hands were on her hips, anchoring her and keeping her just where he needed her to be. After driving himself in balls deep and making a noise she’d never heard from him, he came too.

The spasms deep inside of her subsided but pleasant little blips of euphoria were still firing off randomly.

Stuart looked stunned and finally she touched his nose to draw his attention. ‘So what were you saying?’

‘Um …’ He shook his head, still looking a bit confused.

‘You were just finishing up these numbers and then you thought we could …?’

‘Oh! Take a break together.’

She touched his face. She loved him. The thing with young Southern Rick was just an infatuation. This was the real deal. ‘Did that count?’ She grinned.

‘I think it did!’

‘Hungry?’

As if on cue, his stomach rumbled. ‘Starved.’

‘Let’s eat.’

They walked to the pizza place, hand in hand. The sun beat down but when the wind blew you could feel the faintest kiss of autumn in the air.

‘So why are you all … worked up lately?’ He whispered the last part which amused her.

‘I saw something that turned me on. That’s all.’

‘I wouldn’t mind if you saw it again then.’ He playfully jabbed her with his elbow.

‘Me either,’ Gina confessed.

* * *

It was like a weird kind of ritual or something. At least that’s what it felt like in her belly. Stuart was asleep and she crept through their house clutching her wine. Trying to keep from gulping it, really. In the guest room, she held her breath when she turned the door knob. He wouldn’t be there. It was a fluke. When did he leave for school? Probably any day now. He might already be gone …

It all coursed through her head as she entered.

Halfway across the room she saw the illuminated square of his bedroom window. And, when she stepped up close to her windows, she saw him moving around.

‘He’s just getting ready for bed. He won’t –’

But she stopped then because he presented himself in front of the window and waved. He grinned and her heart lurched and her cunt went hot and liquid. By God, he was beautiful.

Again shirtless, she imagined he’d been doing moving-in chores in the August heat all day. That he’d been sweaty and tired and grateful to get into his air-conditioned house and take his shirt off.

Her tongue went dry as he popped the button fly on his jeans and tugged them down.

And there was that cock again. Big, hard, long, in his tan hand as he kept his eyes pinned to her and started to jerk.

‘Sweet Jesus. I am mentally deranged,’ she whispered. But she watched anyway, an audible soft pop coming from her lips as her mouth sprang open.

Because, for one instant, he took the tip of his member and slid it along the glass. She could see his skin flatten to the window and she shivered despite the perfect temperature in her home.

He froze, his cock in hand, his eyes on her and pointed.

‘Me?’ she said aloud.

He nodded as if he heard her, but most likely he’d simply seen her mouth move. He pointed again and she considered it. Would she? Could she?

It wasn’t as if he was going to touch her or even kiss her! It wasn’t as if they were going to fuck.

She untied her robe before she could change her mind and tonight she had nothing under it but a pair of panties. She pushed those down, glad that the layout of the street meant that no other neighbours had a clear view of her window or his.

A blessing because you have lost your mind …

But, even as that went through her head, she pinched her nipples. Being on display was an entirely new feeling. There was something both fantastic and raunchy about it – a heady combination.

She pinched and pinched and, when he jerked his erection hard and nodded, she smoothed her hands down over the ridges of her ribs, over the small swell of her belly, over her neatly trimmed mound and then she touched herself.

He grinned, shut his eyes to show bliss and continued to stroke himself, pausing every few moments to press a thumb to the tip of his cock. She pictured the split there, the small drop of fluid that came with arousal. She pictured sucking him into her mouth and rolling her lips and her tongue over the flared smooth tip of his cock.

Gina drove her fingers deep in her cunt, flexing them greedily and pinching her nipple fiercely. The visions of sucking him off were fuelling her fantasy, fuelling her need.

She inched closer to the window and so did he. He was so tan, so gorgeous – a bronze young god. Much like a statue. Or a wet dream.

She thrust her three fingers deep, her hips banging forward so it ground her clit to the palm of her hand. Pleasure blossomed in her womb and her cunt, and she put her head to the window glass for a moment so that he could see that she was overcome.

She looked up to see him grinning as his hand flew with a desperate tempo up and down his shaft. He pressed a hand to the window and continued to work himself. Even from the distance she could see the tension in his jaw and the tightness in his belly and, when she came in a slow wet slide of spasms, she pressed her hand to the warm window and nodded, nodded, nodded to him with the pleasure of her release. She was done for. He’d done her in again.

He waited for her to glance up and then, with a toss of his head, gave in to his own orgasm, again splashing the window with his come, looking gorgeous and primitive in his abandon.

‘Wow,’ she whispered.

Her body let off small ticks and pops of pleasure as her body came down off the orgasm high. He smiled at her and waved and then turned from the window.

* * *

Summer was dying, she could see it. She turned over the browned plants that couldn’t be saved and buried them in the earth to help fertilise it. Her legs ached from squatting but she felt good. Stuart had been like a new suitor and they were going out to dinner to celebrate their dirty-dirty sex as he called it.

She hummed to herself and nearly sat down on her ass in the mud with surprise when he said, ‘Afternoon, missus,’ over the fence.

‘Rick,’ she said with a secret smile. She felt calm around him now. Not bored, just calm. He still made her pulse thump erratically and her body respond in very sensual ways. ‘How are you?’

‘Pulling out today,’ he said. ‘School awaits. Just wanted to say bye to my favourite neighbour.’

Her stomach tingled and she fought to ignore it.

‘Bye, Rick.’ OK, so she felt a bit of sadness in her belly, but she knew it wouldn’t last. The fuel for her sexual fire. ‘Be safe and have fun.’

‘Oh, I will. I’m looking forward to this year.’

‘Make the most of it.’

‘I always try to make the most of every opportunity.’ The secret meaning in his words was clear to her.

When she looked up at him, those grey-green eyes were amused. ‘That’s a good character trait.’

Somewhere a car horn beeped and he turned and waved. ‘My friend’s getting antsy. Have a good rest of your summer, missus.’

He winked at her and she blushed. She blushed!

‘And maybe I’ll see you at winter break, you know, around.’

Like in the window …

She almost laughed. Well, hell, she’d forgotten about breaks. And visits. And all that. Her fire wasn’t gone after all.

‘Maybe you will,’ she said and waved as he turned away from the fence.

Winter wasn’t really so far off.