Fenna knew that she had done well in her work so far, but she had chosen never to truly relax. She believed that devoting a great deal of time to her studies, work placements, and training would get her onto the ladder of success quicker than her friends and classmates at the university in Amsterdam. They had lived out the fun times and had yet to reach the heights that she had achieved. She was only twenty-five and carried a lot of responsibilities, already. Meeting targets was one of them.
The prospects for her day had not looked too promising but she had set her mind on getting through and making the most of an important appointment away from her usual business haunts. It had meant a drive out of the city and over routes that were not overly familiar to her, but at least she would do so in daylight. The meeting had been put back several times and those attending had seemed to be relying on her to come up with some answers, and suggestions on a way ahead, and they seemed unable to go without. A lot had hung in the balance and an early start to her day had made the sense of unease all the more acute.
So it was that after a day of intense negotiations and of deals, large and small, being struck with interested parties within the business and customers outside, the day had ended better than she had dared to hope. What had been settled upon could now be implemented and she could make her way home again, weary but elated that the day had ended better than she had dared to hope when she had set off from home.
The late winter weather has been unpredictable, cold, and blustery and she had fretted about whether she would make it back home. The wind tugged at her hair, pressed her business suit to her body and occasional gusts had her tottering to keep her balance. It really wasn’t an evening to be driving back home, let alone stopping for a bite to eat somewhere.
“Get moving, girl,” she muttered as her silver Audi A3 was brought to life, the radio turned off so that she could concentrate, and she began her journey home.
It wasn’t too long before the doubts set in, when she was driving along a road with the darkened tree canopies overhead, the reeds on the drainage ditch lining the polder road swaying. Debris, carried on the gusting wind clattered on the roof, rattled the bodywork, and the wipers trying to sweep them and the wind-driven rain away so that she could see where she was going. Driving over the exposed sections of polder roads, the carriageway running over a dyke and the fields below, wasn’t to be contemplated. She felt uneasy enough, already, about the journey and whether she would get home unharmed as she caught sight of a large branch crashing onto the road she had just traveled over.
She increased her speed and drove as fast as she dared until a safe pull-in was found. Someone, close by or not so far away, and that she knew, might offer her shelter until the morning or the storm had passed through.
“Don’t let me down,” she whispers as the names stored on her iPhone are scrolled through. “Someone I know must live not so far away, please.”
To see his name shocks her as she nears the end of her list: Lucas Jansen, or Luc as she remembers him telling her was the name he went by. That was at a conference two years ago and she had taken down his details for a reason and that she had not followed up on. The chances are that he may be pleased to hear from her. Luc was a few years older, but she remembered his lean face only too well, the neatly clipped beard that was showing signs of grey, just like his hair that she remembered was wept back from a handsome face. Oh, he had attentive eyes and Luc looked fit and agile and she remembered how they’d given each other the eye. It had felt so clichéd, an older guy coming onto a younger woman at a conference.
She drums her fingers on the steering wheel as she wonders if it’s a good idea, others hover over the call button, but the rattle of twigs on the car’s roof and how the wind makes it rock decide it for her. She pushes on the call icon.
It’s answered after only three rings.
“Hey, Fenna!” he laughs in that captivating way that she remembers from the last time they met. “What a time to call me back after so long! Why now?”
He’s reminded her of not answering a call from him, and now she has to explain what’s on her mind.
“I’ve been at one of our company’s facilities and I’m caught in the storm…my cars being battered by twigs and God knows what else and I just don’t feel safe driving on in the dark with all that going on out there. It just doesn’t feel safe, so…” she paused, not for effect but wondering again what she was doing in asking a good-looking guy she had ‘stood up’ for help. “The way it is out there makes me feel I won’t make it…aiee!”
“What was that?” Luc asked in genuine concern. “Fenna?”
“Something’s fallen on the car! I just need somewhere to stay until this blows through! Please, Luc…I know it’s not the easiest of calls! Sorry!”
She’s panic-stricken now and looks about her, through the windows but can’t see what has fallen onto her car.
His voice is light and comforting. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Just put my address in your car’s sat nav and be here. It will work out, I’m sure.”
She’s amazed to hear him say it so easily. “Are you sure, really?”
He laughs softly. “Are you sure you want to stay out there in the storm…wherever you are?” She tells him where she is. “Give it ten minutes or so and you’ll be here. Now, less talk and more action, and park where you can. I’ll light a candle I have in an old ship’s lantern and leave it on the windowsill…you’ll know where I am from that.”
♥
Lucas stands at the window and sees how the wind drives the rain and debris across the street in swirls and gusts. He’s not been home long from work and stands in his suit trousers and his white shirt unbuttoned. He sure remembers the curvy young woman with her straw-blonde hair and intense ways of speaking about business matters. For someone so in control of things, her voice when she called him declared she felt vulnerable out there. But, ever the networker, she had called him. She’d kept his name on her phone so there was something to be read into her doing that, perhaps. He was glad to have some company, unplanned as it was, and that of an attractive young woman. Anxiety to be caught in the storm had overcome reason, perhaps even a sense of propriety.
He would find out soon enough as he saw the sweep of car lights not so far from his modern terraced house. A glass of wine, like the one he sipped from, might calm her down and serve as a welcome.
And then, anything could be possible. His unanswered call of some time ago would have let Fenna know that she had aroused more than the spark of interest in him.
♥
Fenna is relieved to see the candle flickering on the window sill, just as Luc had told her. She feels calmer now and finds a space to park. A few things that she needs are grabbed from the seat behind and she soon rushes to his open front door and stumbles in, gasping for breath from excitement and nervy expectation.
“Sort yourself out and then come in here! I’ve got a glass of wine waiting for you!” he calls to her from the living room. The place is decorated in the latest colors, modern furniture and paintings to be seen everywhere she looks.
“Okay, I will!” she laughs but disconcerted he does not join her.
She shrugs off her jacket and tugs her blouse away from her skin. Both are wet, even if she hadn’t had far to walk from the car to his front door and so are her shoes, which she kicks off and pushes them against the wall. She goes into the cramped cloakroom, set under the stairs, and checks her appearance. It will be different from the last time they were together. At last, she is ready and steps into the room where she sees him lounging, glass in hand and an expectant look on his lean face.
Just how is she to get through the next few hours with a good-looking guy, in his place, and whom she hadn’t seen for two years?
“Hi,” she smiles on meeting his look. Luc stands up and closes the space between them.
“Hi, but what makes you go out on a day like today? The bad weather’s been forecast for some time….” he says, not concealing his mild irritation that she should be so foolish and also with evident concern in his voice.
“If things need doing, as they were today, I go out and deal with them,” she answered calmly and on taking the glass of wine that he held out to her. “I didn’t have a great deal of choice and I’m sorry to call out of the blue. Things were crashing down onto the car, and I simply didn’t want to drive home in this weather.”
As if to make the point, she stepped in her bare feet to the window and gazed out at the drifts of rain, the occasional gust of wind spattering the flurries against it. Luc soon stands beside her and she meets his gaze. How could she have failed to return his call? The guy looks good, and he lives well.
“Well, you’re here now but I can see you’re shivering, Go upstairs and take a shower, warm up, and get out of your wet clothes. You’ll find a large towel in the cupboard at the top of the stairs. There’s a rack in the cupboard so hang whatever you need to dry on that…I can even get a small electric fan to dry things out…quicker if you’re in a rush.”
“You are organized!” she laughs.
“Living on your own does that to you,” he retorts. “You don’t have the same problem, I have to guess, or you would have rung me back.”
“That again!”
“Yes, that again, and here you are, calling on me out of the blue, so to speak.”
Until then she had not been fully aware of how cold and numb, she felt, the reasons, perhaps, that she was worried about the weather and getting through in her car. She was also wet through, and her clothes stuck to her body, but Luc had given her hardly a look in any desiring way. And yet, when she finds the towel he suggested that she used, how it seems to have a manly odor and not some floral scent, she’s possessed by a sudden attraction to him, to Luc’s raw masculinity that has aroused a rush of longing in her belly that is impossible to deny.
“What’s happening, Fenna?” she mutters as she washes her hair and stands under the warming douche of water that courses down her body, between her firm breasts, and down over her toned tummy and then her thighs, the water pooling at her feet and swirling down the drain. Her bra and thong are still moderately dry, but her other clothes are wet through and she has nothing to wear or cover herself, other than the towels she has grabbed.
“Have you got everything?” she hears Luc call out, breezily, from beyond the bathroom door. His footfalls echoed on the stairs as he made his way to check on her.
“Everything’s fine!” She hopes her loud voice, in the small room, will deter him from entering. “I’m warmer now!”
She just about hears his chuckle in reply before Luc’s steps are again heard on the stairs. Relief, that he hasn’t come in, now vies with her doubts about what to wear. Her clothes are drenched and all she has to cover her nakedness are towels. There’s nothing for it, she has to call him and opens the bathroom door, enough, to be able to do so.
“Luc…Luc?”
“Yeah, what is it now?”
She’s embarrassed to ask. “I…I wonder if I could wear your dressing gown if you have one?”
“Wait a moment,” he answers only too easily, and she hears his tread on the stairs and she waits, pushes the door but doesn’t shut it. There’s a knock. “Here, take this…I hope it’s not too short.”
She hears his disbelieving laugh. “Thanks, I won’t be long now.”
“There’s no rush, the storm’s not letting up. So, there’s time to be here a while longer and…and your clothes will have a chance to dry.” He doesn’t move and seems to be waiting for her to come out of his bathroom. She does so and Luc looks approvingly at her, the short silk robe finishing just above her knees and the thin strap is fastened tightly around her slender waist. “It looks good on you, better than towels, which I guess would have been an alternative. I prefer this.”
“And I’m wondering how crazy this is.” She meets his continuing, approving, looks upon her, and wonders how the sensible and considered decision-maker, that others believe her to be, has brought her to this point, storm or not.
“While you do that I’ll make some supper, but sit down for a moment and finish your wine, or do you want a warm drink…a small beaker of tea perhaps?”
“No, wine’s just fine.” She says this on taking her seat at the other end of the sofa. She tucks her legs under her and eases back, sipping on her wine.
“Well, how’s it been since I last saw you?” they both ask in their ways of it and the spontaneity of it makes them laugh.
“Fine,” they both say again, and he puts his fingers to her lips, his upon her more intense now.
“You go first, Fenna…”
She holds nothing back, she doesn’t have to, because whatever they spoke of the last time they were together has long been forgotten. She speaks of the reasons for being in the neighborhood, her role in the business, her home, family, and friends who are some way behind her on the career ladder.
It goes on for a while, their wine gets finished and she sure feels the pangs of hunger taking hold.
“Come with me, we’ll see what can be rustled up for supper,” he says on standing up. “There isn’t so much, my shopping day is later in the week, and I wasn’t expecting any guests, be they regular or who call me out of the blue.”
He gives her a playful nudge and she smiles. What she has seen in the fridge will be enough to conjure up something for the two of them and they fall into a pattern, moving around each other as they work in preparing their meal.
“I rather hoped, some time ago, that we might get to doing this,” he murmurs as Luc stands behind her and she feels his face against her still-wet hair. Unashamedly, he has also put an arm around her waist. He presses his lips to her neck then steps away again and resumes his task of preparing things. “Yes, this sure is a surprise and a nice one.”
She smiles across the narrow space between them and nods her agreement, slowly. He then reaches across her to grab a pepper mill and she feels him brush against her breasts, then her arm, as he stands close and works on. There follow little touches that could be by accident or not, a smile and a glance at each other all that was needed to keep strengthening the bond that was taking shape between them.
“Are you sticking with the wine, or do you want to share a beer with me?” he asks as they sit down in the living room, only closer this time, on the sofa. “The weather’s gone to hell and your clothes aren’t going to dry so quickly. So, you may have to stay the night…”
“We’ve only just met!” she laughs but gives him a pouted smile as Luc stands up and grabs the wine bottle. “I had thought to try and get through and home.” She now points at the TV screen that is hung on the wall, paintings all around it so that it’s not so obvious. A screensaver image keeps changing. “We could check the weather?”
“Or we could take a look out of the window and see it for ourselves. I’m not going to stop you…” Luc sits down, and they eat in silence before they fall into chattering again, she lifting her legs onto the sofa, once more, and relaxing as she eats. The dressing gown shapes her, and her thighs are exposed, for only a moment, to his gaze. “I’d sure like it if you stayed…”
She gives him a stilled answering look as, slowly, the fingers of one hand trail over her skin, caress her thighs before they travel a little higher, between them, and caress the softness of her thighs.
“You doing that wasn’t part of the plan,” she sighs, knowing that the tension between them has gone up a notch or two. It builds as he leans in to kiss her, a press of his lips to her mouth that slowly deepens until they share open-mouthed kisses and swirls of tongues, one of her hands gripping his arm as he trails caresses over her thighs and brushes over the thin cloth of her thong. She moves her hips up to meet these sudden and exciting claims upon her, Luc pulling open his dressing gown and revealing the firm swell of her breasts. She doesn’t stop his mouth from being pressed to her skin, the movement of his head as he claims each nipple in turn as his fingers press into her slit. “I wondered about you…”
Thoughts of finishing supper are forsaken, each of them pushing their plates onto the glass-topped table before them and standing up, Luc pulling her to her feet.
“Not enough to call me back,” he soon kisses, sliding his hands around her back, under the dressing gown and he kissed her again, his hands trailing down her back until he cupped her buttocks and pulled her harshly against him. She could feel his erection against her belly, the press of it unmistakable as she was held to him in a lustful embrace.
“Go on, this will beat driving through the storm!” she groaned as the world outside seemed to fall away and all she felt was him against her and the blood raging in her veins, the gnawing ache of longing for this man whom she scarcely knew but whose number she had kept for so long.
“I want to take you to bed, now.” He says it with surprising harshness as she feels the pull of his hand on hers as he guides her to the foot of the stairs and pushes on her back to make her move on. His dressing gown is draped on her shoulders before he tugs it off her and she languishes in his embrace. His hands seem to be all over her, and she conceded, reaching back to find him as he does the same to her, his agile fingers stroking down over her belly, even as she half-turns to meet his kisses and the seducing stare of his eyes upon her.
She is pushed back onto the bed and watches Luc tear off his clothes before he kneels on the floor before her, pushes her thighs wider before lowering his mouth to her mound, and lets his tongue probe into her, the fabric of her thong little or no hindrance to these claims upon her. The press of his tongue, rhythmic and insistent, brings her on and she gushes, feeling so wet from these plaguing preambles that only become ragingly pleasurable as he tugs aside her thong and his tongue meets flesh. His fingers part her pussy’s lips and his tongue laps over her, darts in to find her clit in long licks and probes, his tongue joined or replaced by his thick fingers.
“Okay?” he asks, stopping for an instant only. “We never got to finding out about this.”
She feels herself falling into an abyss of sudden pleasure as he resumes his eating out of her, the first cramps of an orgasm gripping her. He’s making her crazy with longing, his wide-open mouth seeming to envelop her slit, all of her sex, as his tongue darts in and out, never lingers on any one place. She’s made ready just by his tongue and he does not stop even as her bucking hips, and slit, crash against his face.
“Give it to me! Go on…give it to me!” she yelps, unable to move away from the raging, pleasurable, torture that he inflicts upon her, the probe of his tongue and Luc’s stubble exciting her beyond enduring. She feels ready because of his tongue, but in reflex, she clamps her thighs together and he eases away and lies down by her side.
“There’s no rush,” he murmurs as Luc gazes across the space between them. A hand trails lazily, admiringly, over her body.
She recovers some of her composure and allows the trill of longing to subside before she trails caresses over his lean body, the hollow of his stomach as Luc draws in his breaths, the slow trail of her fingers over his body making him shiver. He groans as she grips his thick penis. It’s long enough and it belongs to a guy she wants to be fucked by. She knows that now.
She kneels over him and trails her breasts over his skin, hearing his sharp intake of breath as she does that. She’s not deterred by the fierce clamps of his hands to them; her movements to slick her tongue over his penis, held so fiercely in her hands, making him stop and lie back. Her tongue slicks upwards before she takes the hooded dome in her mouth, her wet lips sucking lightly as her tongue flickers over the tip. She can taste him. She can hear his sharp intake of breath as she sucks and licks. These are followed by a sharper intake of breath as she draws back his foreskin and the wonder of his glans is fully exposed to her sight and touch.
“Fenna, you darling! Go on…go on!” he groans, his hands in her hair and urging her to go on. Luc arched his back and then pushes his hips up from the bed as she sinks over him.
She moves to kiss him and trails her nipples in mesmerizing sweeps over his skin. “Two can be impetuous, can’t they, now…now that the storm’s raging in here too, isn’t it?”
She’s teasing him, he knows that, but the young woman from that conference two years ago has not been forgotten. Now, the wait has been worth it, her slender body, full breasts, her blonde hair, and tempestuous desire to be with him will blot out any regrets about lost moments.
Fenna kisses him as her hands work him, her kisses then trailing down over his body and his penis once more, his shaft gripped in one hand as the other kneads his nut sac. He groans as her mouth resumes its sucking and travels down over his penis until he knows she can take no more. They’ve reached their limits, her head bobbing up and down, her hands working him rhythmically and all he can do is caress her shoulders, tugging on her hair, or pushing down on her head. His caresses are few. She’s in control and his penis glides in and out of her mouth smoothly.
“Lose it for me!” she calls out, resuming her working on him, and her rhythmic clamp on his sac makes it happen. Bolts of his semen spurt into her mouth, then onto her breasts and she lets it happen, looking wonderingly into his eyes even as he fails to see her in his moments of pleasure. “You needed that and from me, didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t keep that a secret, no.” He reaches up to the bedside table and tugs some tissues out of the box. She takes them and cleans his seed from her breasts, licks some off her fingers before she leans down to kiss him.
“There’s been no one for you for a while, is my guess,” she kisses. The power of his ejaculations has alerted her to the fact, and she now wonders if he will recover quickly and give it to her.
He does.
She is coaxed to kneel on the bed and Luc stands behind her and slowly enters her body in one long thrust that has her gasping for breath as it seems to reach deeper and deeper until his hips crash against her buttocks.
“I’ll try not to rush this, beautiful….” He kisses her with his lips pressed to her back and shoulders as she leans before him, her breasts clamped in his hands and she feels his grip on them tighten and relax in time with his thrusts and swaying movements, the making of figures-of-eight in her pussy, each part of it stretched, caressed and poked.
“I don’t care about that…about slow or fast…just do it! I want to fuck with you and to hell with me going back home!”
He’s in her, so deep, and she groans out of pleasure and some pain. He’s lusted after her from the moment they met on his doorstep and now there’s variety in the positions they take, each delaying their orgasms as a new position is found and they pursue a shared climax. That would make their reunion, unlikely a few hours ago, only too real.
“Should…should I put on a rubber?” he asks, his voice hoarse from the efforts of loving her.
She keeps on feeling the pulses of longing as he penetrates and withdraws from her, his gorged flesh filling her pussy and her wetness allowing the tempestuous glide in and out, his girth so pleasurable and filling her. The swollen tip glides and slicks, in and out, caressing her pussy’s walls and she clings to him, digs her fingertips into his buttocks, and pulls him down until she knows it will be a crushing orgasm of climaxes shared and of spending.
“No…no condom.”
“Sure?”
His lips caressed her nipples, tugged and sucked on them, stimulated every nerve ending as they ached from the tension of approaching pleasure.
“It’s a bit late to ask, but no!” she laughs on a stifled shriek, shuddering as she does so and feeling his seed bolts ejected into her in three short snaps. “This will teach me not to call you back!”
She felt as if his penis had erupted inside of her, that cum had exploded and slicked the walls of her vagina and filled her with its clammy, unstoppable, warmth and his vitality; his lust for her. She had felt his penis jolt, then jump as he unleashed his lust for her, and she felt his semen and her pussy’s juices leak out of her and onto her aching thighs. She felt as if he had filled her to the brim, that she could take no more.
“Fuck, that was good…worth the wait,” he whispered, and Luc kissed her tenderly.
“Mind your language, mister,” she replied but clung to him. How could she have failed to see him as the man he was and to follow through on what he had tried to begin? Reluctantly she finally allowed him to leave her and lie down. “My phone list doesn’t include guys like you, under ‘personal’. I think you ought to know that.”
Luc sat up and he felt her wondering caresses on his back. He twisted to look down at her body, stretched out on the bed and her skin rosy from their loving.
“And I don’t have a book filled with names. I wait for someone special to come along, or that I meet. I hope you’ll answer my calls the next time…”
“What do you think?” she asked, reaching up to him and seeing the wondering look in his eyes upon her once more.
“We have the rest of the night to find out, don’t we?”
The wind and rain continued to lash the windows of the bedroom, but Luc and Fenna had other things on their minds.
♥
