"'Bye, Jo." The door clicked shut, and Joanna could hear their footsteps on the pavement. They stopped in the street outside her window. She imagined Paul's leather-clad leg swinging over the big V-twin, then Caroline's slim form climbing on behind him, dressed in matching black leather, breasts pressing hard against his back. The engine roared for a few seconds, then faded away into the distance.
Joanna smiled and stretched, feeling the soft cotton of the sheets brush across her naked body. She snuggled down under the duvet, curled up on herself. Her hand fell naturally between her legs, where she squeezed it with her thighs. It was Saturday, and nobody would disturb her. There was quiet in the flat, with just the hum of the washing machine in the kitchen. She would have a leisurely bath, forsaking her usual jog around the park, then make some coffee and fetch some croissants and the paper. She loved having Paul around, but sometimes it was nice to have a day just to herself. Caroline would be out for the day, so Joanna could do whatever she pleased. She squeezed her legs together again with anticipation.
The phone rang.
"Damn." She threw back the covers and put her feet on the carpet. Joanna looked around for her bathrobe, then remembered Caroline had put it on the washing machine for her. She stood up and walked naked down the hallway. As she picked up the phone, she reflected that she'd never stood unclothed in the kitchen before. It felt out of place, and a little naughty.
"Hello."
"Hiya, gorgeous." It was Paul, calling from Paris. "How's things?"
"Fine. I was just having a lie-in. How about you, what are you up to?"
"Much the same as you - I was just lying in bed, thinking of you."
"Mmm." Joanna smiled, wickedly, "Did that have the usual effect?"
"It certainly did. I've got something here in my hand the size of the Eiffel Tower."
"Are you sure you're not exaggerating slightly? You wouldn't want a girl to be disappointed when you get back." Joanna giggled as she looked down her bare body and wriggled her toes on the cool floor.
"How could you be disappointed? Just wear that sexy nightie and I'll build a tower again in no time. Are you wearing it now?"
"No."
"Well, there goes my fantasy."
"I'm not wearing a nightie." Her heart beat a little faster.
"What are you wearing, then?"
Joanna paused, and licked her lips, "I'm standing in the kitchen, with nothing on at all."
She could hear a sharp intake of breath. "Like it. What about Caroline?"
"Oh, she's wearing her leathers."
"Sounds like you two might make an interesting pair. Did I interrupt anything?"
He sounded a bit breathless, and she wondered whether Paul would be turned on by that kind of thing, "No, silly - she's gone out for the day with Dan on his bike."
"Oh, I see." He certainly sounded a little disappointed.
"Does that mean the Eiffel tower's coming down? Or are you keeping it up single-handed?"
"Oh, it's not having much trouble staying up while I'm talking to you. But I'm keeping things in hand." She imagined him spread across his big hotel bed, phone in one hand, other hand stroking his stiff cock, gripping the shaft, thumb rubbing the foreskin and forefinger rubbing the bulge underneath as she liked to do to him.
"You naughty boy," said Joanna. "Are you sure your hand won't slip?" She felt herself beginning to get damp between the legs.
"Oh no, I'm holding it good and tight, just like you do. Just moving up and down a little bit." His eyes would be half-closed as his hand moved slowly up and down. Joanna leaned back against the humming washing machine, enjoying the feel of its vibrations on her bare skin. She squeezed her legs together and bent her knees, then reached down to stroke the carefully trimmed curls between her thighs with her fingers. Her breasts moved forwards as she bent. Talking dirty on the phone to Paul was fun, jokey and sexy all at the same time, and being naked in the kitchen while she did it gave her a special thrill.
"So is it wet in Paris?"
"It's just damp, but it's forecast to get very wet soon." Joanna could hear his breathing coming faster now. She cupped her hand between her legs, then pressed the middle finger hard against her nub, stroking with her thumb and other fingers against her outer lips. It felt good. "What's it like there?" Paul added.
"It's definitely beginning to get wet." Joanna savoured the feel of her rapidly moistening pussy. She put her hand to her mouth and ran her tongue along the insides of her fingers, tasting herself, then moved it back between her legs. Her skin felt warm as she stretched back in the golden sunlight streaming through the window, illuminating her nakedness and tinting the curly hair underneath her hand with gold. She felt warm and shivery at the same time.
Paul's voice came to her, shakier now, "This β¦ tower's β¦ so β¦ solid." He was panting, and she knew he would be pumping himself harder now. "Tell me what you're feeling."
"I'm very β¦ very β¦ wet. I'm β¦ sopping β¦ wet. I'm really β¦ really β¦ good β¦ and β¦ wet." They were both panting now, and Joanna felt a warm feeling building in her hips and thighs. She moved her hips down further, phone still in one hand, the fingers of the other hand moving quickly up and down her crotch.
"I'm β¦" Paul paused for breath, "very close now." The vision of his hand, moving wildly and nearly out of control up and down his cock, made her own fingers move faster. Her knees were shaking, and the bob of her auburn hair swung from side to side, flying against her face as she shook her head in abandon. She gave a long moan, bouncing on her heels as she crouched down by the worktop, barely managing to hold on to the phone, her fingers a blur between her legs.
Somehow, through the roaring sound of approaching ecstasy in her head, she heard a key rattle in the front door lock.
In panic, she just managed to whisper "Caroline's back!" before she put the phone down, shaking as she did so.
"Hi Jo, we're here! The bike broke down."
It was Dan's voice, and two sets of footsteps were coming down the hallway. Joanna looked wildly around the kitchen. She reached for the only cover, a tea towel, but realised it would barely hide her hips. She dived for the large broom cupboard, pulling the magnetic catch closed, as quietly as she could. There was little room, and a coat tickled the side of her face, but at least she wasn't exposed.
"She's gone out jogging," Caroline guessed. Through the downward-angled slats of the louvred cupboard door, Joanna could see two sets of leathers walking into the kitchen.