“No, there’s no tickets…” The voice was about to hang up, when Richie interrupted him.
“Do you have volunteers who are regretting offering to take people to Grantchester after? Yeah? I can do that. Trust me. I did a good dozen balls over my three years, then a couple over the last few years.”
“Your name?” The voice was clearly tempted. “Ah! You’re on my contact list. God,would you? Please? It wouldn’t be dining. Arrive at nine, deposit cheque… – oh, you and a guest? Fuck it, why not? Anything, not to have to stay awake any later myself…” Richie heard a yawn. The organiser was exhausted already.
“Good man,” Richie approved. “What’s your name? Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
Emily returned to the lounge, clad in two bath towels. “Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?”
Richie came to hug her – and whisk the towel off her body in the process. As seemed to happen increasingly often with Emily around, his serious persona was replaced by a moment of silly whimsy. He intoned, “Cinder-Emi-ella? Youshall go to the Ball!”
“What? Wow! But… What can I even wear?”
“Good point. I don’t think my ball dress would fit you.”
“Youwhat?”
Richie sighed. “Ah. See if this one scares you off. You know how I said, it’s not like I want to wear anything because it’s girly, just I can’t resist pissing off people who think men shouldn’t wear anything girly? Also, scrunchies in my hair are the best way to make it stay neat. Well. Had to try it. My friend Laura happened to wear black tie for various events, and dared me to go to a Ball with her, if we found a good dress. Which she did. So I got all dressed up accordingly.”
“Makeup and hair?” Emily asked, amused. He nodded. “Stockings and heels?”
“Waxed legs and stockings, yes. Heels, no. Stuck to my DMs. Though I did say if she found thigh-high leather heeled boots in a size eleven, I’d give it a go.”
“Did you go punting and all in it?”
“I didn’t do the punting, that time. That one, Laura and I helped set up electrics, beforehand. Which was nice, having the whole ball to relax, knowing we didn’t need to stay sober. Or awake. We got taken to breakfast, though. Got some great double-takes from people who didn’t recognise me. It’s weird, how people treat you different, when they think you’re a woman.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m too short and curvy ever to be mistaken for a man.”
He looked her over, as if noticing those facts for the first time. “There’s short fat men. No, you’re not fat, you’re curved, like you said.Shit…”
“Rich!” He lifted his face to hers. “I know what you mean. I’m not an insecure teenager.”
“Some don’t get much better…”
“I did. You misspoke. It happens. Go on, show me this dress, but I bet you’re right.” It was indeed too narrow as well as too long.
“Time for the internet. Cam-Net, wanted ad. What’s your size? Ball dress needed, reply with pics, need to collect tomorrow morning. I’ll pay, it’s my fault you need it. Come on, come to bed before you catch your death of cold.”
“If that doesn’t work, then we’re hitting the shops in the morning,” she told him.
“Fate worse than death!” He shuddered. Emily could tell it wasn’t just for effect. “I hope you’re not too fussy. Remember, you may be on a bouncy castle and falling asleep on the grass, so don’t get anything too delicate or perfect.”
“I’m not delicate or perfect.”
“Not delicate. No.”
She was surprised by his small embarrassed smile, then realised what he’d meant. “Come to bed, you silver-tongued charmer.”
He laughed. “Oh, yes!” He followed her to the bedroom, appreciating her naked body. That lovely round arse, in particular. She’d taken up running, in the beautiful weather and flat boulevards of the south of France. Muscle and curves. A perfect combination. That dark shadow between her buttocks. Those pink labia, just visible as she walked. And the clincher – she liked his cock inside her…
“Fuck me,” she said, as soon as she lay on the bed.
He undid his belt. “Right now? Or clothes off first?”
“Get naked. Yeah. Come here.” She reached for a nipple and pulled. He squirmed.
“Easy. Yeah, I have no problem with you being a demanding woman! Just don’t make me come too quick? Please?”
“No? You want to last?” She moved her hand to his cock and began to idly rub it up and down, slow and gentle and teasing. “Take your time?”
A few minutes later, he was putty in her hands. “Please…More… Can I fuck you? Or you suck me?” He panted, quiet and desperate. More effective than any begging.
Emily dropped his cock. He groaned in disappointment. Until she shifted to kneel between his legs and lowered her head.
“Oh, yeah, please…” He seemed barely in control of his words. Emily liked that. She slurped around the base of his head, licking the sensitive groove underneath. His fists tensed and his back arched an inch off the mattress. “Oh…”
He was clenching his arse in his efforts not to come. Richie’s eyes were unfocussed, all his great mind for once thinking of only one thing: how his cock felt. Emily liked that. The serious scientist most people knew had become relaxed and even funny during the day, but here he was, totally unable to think of anything other than sex.
Emily suspected people could say exactly the same about her. She didn’t care. Richie was beautiful in front of her. His squirming, his increased desperation to stay in control, turned her on even more. If she’d been wearing pants, they’d be wet by now. Richie could slide his big cock into her easily, no preparation or extra lube needed.
She considered shifting forward and sitting on his cock. The very thought of being stretched out over it made her gasp. But she couldn’t be bothered to move and get a condom; the only downside to casual sex. Maybe, some day, she and Richie might commit enough to each other for barebacking to be safe?
Maybe. No time soon. In the meantime, she loved how he was stretched out, one arm flung back onto the pillow, fingers curled tight into a fist, squeezing tight. Emily moved her left hand to grip the base of his cock, and squeezed her right into the crevice under his arse.
“Aw, man,” he groaned, rubbing his bum over her palm. “Aah…”
She extended her middle finger and forced it into the crease. Tight muscle squashed her on each side. Richie screwed up his face, making tiny rocking motions over her hand.
It decided her. She tugged her hand back from under him, spat on her fingers, and shoved them back into his arse-crack. She let the middle one explore, back and forth, helped by him making little movements in the same way.
Which meant her fingertip and his hole soon lined up. She pressed. He didn’t panic or shout objection, like many men might. So she forced her finger inside him. He managed to relax, briefly. Just enough to get the first joint of her finger inside him, teasing. He let out a deep satisfied noise, wriggled, and her knuckle suddenly was in the opening.
Both of them gasped with the heat of the moment. Emily lowered her head and returned to sucking the tip of his cock, holding him down with the hand on the base of his shaft, forcing him to stay penetrated.