Ill Just Help Myself

The whole thing was Andrew's fault. If he'd been home instead of rushing of to work for an emergency job it never would have happened. He got the call about six and was swearing something terrible as he got up showered and took off.

Me, I rolled over and went back to sleep. I wasn't working that Saturday and I didn't have to get up early. I did eventually get up, and it was nearly nine when I strolled down to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. I was shaping up to be a hot day and I was home alone, so I didn't bother to dress. After all, if you can't walk around your own house in the nude, where can you?

So I'm standing in the middle of the kitchen, starkers, having my morning coffee when the back door opened and Paul walked in.

"Hi, Suzy," he says as soon as he spots me. "Is Andy there? I told him I'd be here at nine and he told me to just come on in. . ."

His voice just seemed to fade away there at the end as it dawned on him what I was wearing, or not wearing in this case. The look on his face was so comical that I almost burst out laughing.

Almost. I was naked, which took a lot of humour out of the situation. Like an idiot I answered Paul's question.

"Andrew isn't here. He had to go to work."

I found my voice faltering then as I realised that I'd just told Paul that we were all alone and I was standing in front of me naked. He gave this little groan.

"I wish you hadn't told me that," he muttered.

I could practically feel his eyes on me. He started at my breasts and looked slowly downwards, fastening his gaze on my pussy and then moving his gaze all the way back up to my breasts. Then he repeated the scan. For some reason I was feeling grateful that I'd shaved the night before.

Then my phone rang. I automatically answered it and it was Andrew.

"Listen, sweet, I forgot to tell you that Paul will be around this morning," he started.

"He just arrived," I said. "Do you want to speak to him?"

He did and I passed the phone over to Paul. I then indicated that I was going to go and get dressed but the rotten sod took the phone in one hand and my arm in the other, indicating that I should wait a while.

I assume that Andrew was telling Paul about the emergency job he had to go to, which was why he wasn't home. Paul was real nice about it, saying these things happen. It was the way he finished up the conversation that worried me a little.

"No worries, mate," Paul said. "I'll just help myself to the things I want, if that's OK by you."

Paul handed the phone back to me and I said hi, and Andrew told me Paul had just come around to pick up a few things. He'd just grab them and go. Andrew was sorry he'd forgotten to warn me.

Paul, I noticed, was already starting to help himself. He'd let go my arm but was gently running his fingers over my breast, tweaking my nipple. I said goodbye to Andrew and slapped at Paul's hand.

"If you'll excuse me," I said firmly, "I'm just going to go and get dressed."

"No, I don't think I will," he told me. "I like you like that. Andy told me to just take what I wanted, after all."

He was standing back and giving me the once over again, his eyes moving up and down my body and he was nodding appreciatively. I will admit to a maidenly flutter, caused by the look in his eyes. It's always nice to be seriously admired and secretly lusted after. The trouble was, Paul wasn't secretly lusting. He was looking at me with real hunger on his face.

"Sorry, Paul, but the show's over."

I made to walk around him and he caught my arm again. This time he took the coffee cup out of my hand and put it to one side.

"You won't want to spill that," he said, and then both his hands came up to cup my breasts.

I backed away from him, but I found the kitchen table behind me. Paul seemed to be coming closer and I found myself leaning backwards over the table, putting my hands on the table behind me to support myself.

Paul's hands slid off my breasts, moving down to my hips, and he lent forward and started softly suckling on my breasts. I tried to push him away, but it was like pushing at a wall. I told him to back off and leave me alone and he just plain ignored me.

Then he started sliding his mouth down over my tummy, and then even lower. He sank onto his knees and pushed his face between my thighs. He tapped an ankle lightly, indicating I should move it, and like a fool, I did.

Until then fellatio was just a word to me. Andrew didn't like it and wouldn't do it. Paul had no such inhibitions. His tongue slipped between my lips, dipping into the cleft between my thighs, exploring and tasting me. I wanted him to stop, really I did, but I didn't know how to tell him. I finished up just standing there, making these funny little noises while his tongue went here and there, arousing me with no problems whatsoever.

I tried to pull his head away. I curled my hands into his hair and pulled, hard. At least, I'm pretty sure I was pulling. I know my hands were tangled in his hair. But whatever I was doing, it had no effect on Paul. His tongue just kept tantalising me. When he started using it to tease my clitoris and that area I almost screamed.

He just kept on teasing and arousing me until my nerves were at breaking point. He must have read some subtle signal because he suddenly stopped and stood up.

He took a step back and started undoing his trousers. His zip went down and then he reached inside and pulled himself loose, showing me his erection. It looked as hard as a rock, just straining away from him. It seemed to twitch slightly, as though it knew I was there.

I will admit I had a chance to run, to get out of there, and I'm quite sure Paul wouldn't have followed me. When he stepped back he left me plenty of room to step aside and bolt, and we both knew it. The trouble was I couldn't have moved to save myself. Actually, come to think of it, I didn't move to save myself.

Paul just stood for a moment and I used that moment to just stare at his cock. After the moment had passed Paul seemed to give this little shrug and started moving towards me. I then proceeded to prove that I was an imbecile, studying to be a moron.

"Paul," I said, "what are you going to do?"

As if I didn't know. I was naked. He'd backed me up to the table and used fellatio to get me aroused. He'd whipped out a giant dong and was pointing it at me. What did I think he was going to do? Hit me, with it?

For some reason I just couldn't help myself. I babbled.

"Paul, you're not really going to use that are you? You're just pretending, yes? Paul, I don't think you should be touching me like that. Paul!"

While I babbled Paul just moved his erection between my legs and started pushing softly. Leaning back the way I was I could see him pressing up into me. I felt my lips yielding and then I could see Paul's cock disappearing between my legs.

I knew just where it was disappearing to. I could feel it, moving steadily into me, climbing my passage, coming all the way into me. I was already worked up. All Paul had to do was push a little and my passage just surrendered to him on the spot, letting him go where he liked.

I managed to stop babbling once Paul's cock was coming inside me. I switched to giving out little gasps and squeaks as he slowly filled me, finishing, to my embarrassment, with a sigh of satisfaction as his groin rubbed hard against mine and I knew he was properly in me.

His hands came up to my breasts again, cupping and teasing them, and then he started fucking me. He wasn't making gentle and glorious love to me, lifting me gently to the heights of ecstasy; he was fucking me, good and hard.

His cock started sliding back and forth in a most energetic manner and his gentle touch on my breasts hardened, so that he was mauling them, demanding a response from them, just as his cock was demanding a response from my pussy.

And he got his responses. I was thrusting my pussy hard against him, eagerly meeting his crude demands, relishing the rough demands he was making on my body. My breasts felt swollen and tender and my nipples were as hard as pebbles, but incredibly sensitive to the slightest touch.

Paul was displaying a great deal of energy, thumping his cock into me repeatedly, apparently relishing his dominance over me. All I could do was gasp and squeal and frantically hump my hips, doing my best to keep up with him.

We just went at it, exuberantly enjoying a hot and heavy sexual encounter that had just come up out of nowhere. I'd never even considered Paul as a sexual partner before, but now we were banging together like old hands renewing an acquaintance.

He took me hard and fast and I could feel a climax building with a terrible rapidity. I couldn't believe this was really happening to me, but that didn't stop me from enjoying to the fullest. I banged against Paul, thrilling to the surge of his cock ramming home inside me, again and again and again.

Then I was screaming and climaxing, closing down hard on Paul, forcing him to service me, draining him of his seed, sucking him dry and leaving him limp and exhausted, his erection sagging and dying.

Mind you, I was also sagging and dying, leaning back against the table, totally done in. When I finally got myself together Paul was all buttoned up. He looked completely calm and collected.

"As I was saying," he said, "I've come to collect some of those pebbles that Andy had left over from doing the garden. I'll just be going round the back and load them onto my trailer.

Um, should you be running around like that when you have visitors? You never know what might happen."

Oh, really? I think I had a pretty good idea.