He Didn't Want a Fling

She was running through the long grass, barefoot. Like he always remembered her. The images flashed past his memory in repeating circles, a needle stuck on the record of time. He lay in the darkness and took the pictures and sounds like clay in his hands, moulding them, playing them back at different speeds, playing them backwards, creating stories no-one had ever seen before.

And then she was turning towards him. Her face filled every pixel of his vision. Pitch-bending piano chords flew from her fingertips. Her mouth opened and her eyes dimmed as she looked down at him, sleeping.

Her first words jerked him awake. It was dim but already getting light. He checked his phone: 4.45. Tom's legs swung to the floor and he stretched out his chest, shoulder blades pressing hard against each other, his back cracking. There was no way he could get back to sleep now. His pride resisted the insistent pressure against his boxers. Not for her. Never again.

The only option was a cold shower and he yelled as the ice-hot jet raked his back. He was quickly dressed out of the house before London had even begun to stir. The hum of dawn activity was low, though the tube was already filling up as he reached St. Pancras.

He sat in one of the cafés overlooking the taxi ranks teeming with tourists. He spotted a few stunning beauties drifting like petals lost among the concrete weeds, watching as they curved and swayed their way through the crowds. If only she was just one of those girls. If only she was just so simple

Already his mind was wandering back to that time, to the woman who tormented his dreams. She was the reason he hadn't been back this way for more than two years. She was his best friend's sister; they lived together with their parents in a small village north of London, in Hertfordshire.

Tom and Charlie. They had been inseparable back in the day, best friends since they met each other at sixth form college, went through university together at King's. And that's when he met Amy. It was love at first sight. For him.

He tried not to remember those times, but once he went down the rabbit hole it was hard to claw his way out again. He felt again her hand on his thigh, the big blue eyes gazing into his, the erotic charge that blazed between them as their lips met for the first time - his naïve desire countered by her experienced and discerning power.

The train was speeding him towards her again. Lost in his thoughts, he couldn't even remember buying the ticket, climbing aboard, finding a seat. The petite brunette in the seat beside him was cute, he suddenly realised. He felt her looking at him with a sideways longing and he was tempted to speak, to ask her where she was going and abandon his best friend's birthday, just take to the road with this pretty girl. But he knew it was impossible.

He got a taxi from the station and before he knew it he was milling through the crowd of Charlie's guest choking every inch of the semi-detached house his parents had given over for the party. Tom found himself a drink and got chatting to a group of economists he thought he might remember from student days but couldn't be sure. His head was a blur of fear, feelings, excitement.

He was already eager to get home when he saw her. She was gliding down the stairs, a golden star-beam drifting soundless, untouchable through the heaving bodies gathered on the steps. On the last two she suddenly stopped. She was always like that, like a cat: she felt his eyes burning into her, and turned to meet them.

For what felt like an eternity they gazed at one another. His mouth was dry, his head pulsed with pain and fear and lust. Her lips curled into her enigmatic smile, half mocking, almost on the brink of laughter. Then with a wink she turned away from him, a splash of blonde hair flicking out behind her and she was gone.

He followed her. The impulse was too great and he burst from the group he was standing in while some guy was mid-sentence. It was a painfully slow effort to barge through the crush of dancing figures but he kept the back of her head in view, sashaying like a slow-motion dream over to the sliding doors and out onto the patio. He stood motionless on the other side of the glass as she bent to slip off her shoes and turned back to him. Her head cocked at an inquisitive angle, as though to ask, Are you coming?

She blew a kiss, laughed, and sped off down the garden, unlatched the back gate and was out into the gravel road that led to the fields. And I was hot in pursuit, out the gate before it had swung shut and after her.

She was racing over the fields. In one stride she leapt over the rushing stream that wound through the outskirts of the village, and he knew where she was heading for. Their regular meeting spot.

He caught her just on the edge of the orchard, his hand reaching out to grab her by the upper arm and spin her back into his arms. She fell on him with wild abandon, ripping at his lips with her savage mouth, digging her nails into his back through his shirt.

"I want to have you again, Tom," she whispered in his ear, sending shivers of excitement through his tense body. He hands drifted down her thinly-clad form in smooth, slow swirls until he clutched her buttocks and pulled her towards him.

They crashed together and collapsed to the grass under the shade of an apple tree. She sat astride him, her luscious hair washing over his face, her pressing mouth spreading kisses down his body until she reached his flies, unzipped him and pulled his aching cock up into her mouth as deep as it could go.

She gasped as she rose for air and laughed, "I forgot how big you were, baby!" before she plunged down once more, sending wave after wave of pleasure rocking through him. She lifted his hands up to grab hold of her hair.

Then he rose above him once more and clambered astride him, pulling her dress up over her thighs to reveal her naked waist. She kissed him and rubbed her clit against his cock, her breath coming in short, sharp pants of exultation. His hands grazed and teased her swelling breasts, plucking at her hard round nipples.

She couldn't take any more and finally plunged his cock deep inside her with a bellow he had to stifle with one hand over her mouth. Her wild body was out of control, grinding her crotch against the base of him until she climaxed on his thick shaft, biting into his shoulder so hard she drew blood.

He threw her off him into the grass and gazed at her stretched out before him, rubbing her clit under her belly. He planted his knees either side of her slim, muscular legs and with one smooth motion his cock glided into her core and she gasped as it grew inside her, the head engorged with desire. She raised herself on her elbows as his mouth closed around her neck and shoulders, blazing kisses and nibbles in a trail of fire right across her, ending with his mouth on her lips and his arms crushing her breasts beneath him as she began to come again.

"You're killing me baby," she moaned into his ear, "you kill me every time." It was more than he could take and they came together. He pulled out just in time as her body melted into seizures of orgasm and exploded with one cry of pleasure over her lower back.

She groaned as she felt his hot pleasure flowing over her. He collapsed on her as she lay there, and their warm mouths met again as they lay enchanted under the shade of the apple tree in the orchard that had so often played a backdrop to their romance.