Saturday Morning Rush Ch. 2: Jan's Story
It always amazes me how hard Dave gets just watching me doing the most ordinary things like housework.
Okay, so it isn't amazing, not if you know him. And okay, so me doing housework isn't exactly ordinary.
Perhaps I should just drop that statement altogether. Or at least re-define the term "housework". For me, housework is any activity involving any degree of effort - hence the 'work' part, yeah! - that takes place in the house - house work! Are you with me?
Whatever. So there I was, working hard, bent over on all fours at the foot of the bed, looking for one of my socks, which try to escape my gnarly feet on every occasion they can. 'Fucking, cunting, slippery bollocky socks!'
That was me talking, by the way, and not the socks. Dave stood near me, staring lustfully at my outfit: T-shirt and knickers, the knickers drawn tight up, displaying a crease where the crack of my fat arse was. Jees, the man either had poor taste or really good taste, depending on my mood, I guess. I know it usually ends with a taste, whichever way. Dave bent down and smacked my arse. Cheeky fucker! Well, he was just asking for it. Nothing new there, then... )
I stopped my searching and cursing long enough to land one on his hairy shin, right on the bone. I growled at him. 'Stay out of my way, fucker!' Hey, you have to talk to guys in a language they understand, right?
Dave seemed to understand my reaction. Saturday morning was no day of rest for us; I had work at home to do, of course, as did Dave, as well as shopping this morning, so it was All Go. And I wanted to get started ASAP so we'd have time to go see the new Tarantino flick.
But it would seem Dave didn't. It was probably my fault, really, having such a succulent arse. Guys, huh! Next thing I know, Dave reaches down and grabs me by the waist, lifting me up like a child off the floor. I squealed and cursed and struggled, almost kicking him in the nuts - but not quite, obviously. Then the mad fucker dropped me face down on the bed. I twisted onto my back, face flaring, teeth bared Klingon-style, eyes narrowed and challenging. 'Cunt! Cunting Cunty Cunt!' ( Communication has always been one of my strong points.)
My T-shirt had rucked up; I wore no bra underneath, and Dave could see the underside of my pale, unfettered breasts. The tentpole in his boxers raised a little further and seemed to nod in my general direction.
I couldn't fail to notice it, and I knew where it was bloody well leading. In a display of wanton naivety, I held up a warning finger. 'No, no, we've got things to do!' Yeah, I know. What *was* I thinking....
Dave was slipping his T-shirt off his body. 'How true.' Well, that worked. Not!
I tried again, with the "teacher's" voice...... 'NO!' Hey, it sometimes works. On the dog, anyway....
But then the fucker dropped his shorts, and I stared at his erection. What was I supposed to do, leave the man in that state? C'mon, be reasonable. I had no choice.....
'Aww, Dave, now you know I can't leave you like that. You know that. I have a sacred duty in such matters.'
'I know.' What a fucking, cunting, smarmy, wise assed, full-on bastard.......
Dave dived on top of me, and we kissed, our tongues wrestling as Dave slipped his hand down under my T-shirt. Oh god, I'm so weak when he does that. He felt my body shiver as his hand rose to feel my left breast, brushing against the engorged nipple. I moaned reflexively into his open mouth as he did it. It seemed to fire him. He moved his hands abruptly from under my shirt, grabbed it and practically tore it off me. My heart raced at the display of raw passion. God, he was good at this. Dave moved up a little and looked down at me. He stared at my breasts with such a look of desire, it was enough to send jolts of pleasure to my now swollen pussy. I could feel my nipples pucker as if they were reaching up from my arching body to meet his lips.
I was resigned to my fate now, as we kissed and played around on the bed. I deliberately rubbed my hot pert nipples up and down on Dave's wonderful hairy chest. Dave started to rub me gently through my knickers. They were a pink-bikini cut and silk with a rather large wet spot all around the pubic area. Hey, I find it hard to conceal my feelings, ok! Dave could see the crease that split my pouting pussy lips. He ran his finger along it, pushing the material further in as the wet patch spread further. I could see my soft, curly hair now through my soaked knickers. A musky smell emanated from my loins. The smell of my arousal just served to galvanise me, and made me ache to have him inside me again.
Dave lowered his hand and rubbed my crotch. I moaned and closed me eyes. Dave then went on to remove my knickers. His hands trembled as he pulled down my pretty underwear. The first curls of pubic hair appeared, the curls were damp with vaginal fluids. As Dave pulled them further down, my warm, inviting pussy lips came into view. Dave threw the knickers to the ground and marvelled once again at this magnificent sight. Dave was speechless (a minor miracle for him).