Beach House

As far as Miranda was concerned Brian, her boyfriend, correction her ex-boyfriend with a capital EX, was scum. A choice bit of scum found floating on the ponds of lowlifes who made up the dregs of society. If she never saw him again it would be too soon. She was a little despondent and needed a break.

A bright idea occurred. There was a long weekend coming up and her Uncle Charles had a beach cabin that he often went to on long weekends. If he was going this weekend maybe she could go with him. She rang her uncle.

"Uncle Charles," she pleaded, "if you're going to the beach this weekend can I please go with you. I have to get away for a while."

"Well, that's easy to answer. No and yes," Charles said.

"What?" asked a disappointed Miranda.

"No, I'm not going to the beach. Yes, you can go and use the beach house. Just swing past my place this evening and grab the key. You're eighteen and quite a responsible young lady. I very much doubt that you're going to throw a wild party and smash up the place, so no worries. Feel free to spend the weekend."

Much relieved a delighted Miranda picked up the keys and Friday evening found her driving to the coast and a brief holiday away from home and rotten ex-boyfriends who didn't have the decency to expire noisily when you wanted them to. Arriving at the cottage Miranda promptly changed into a bikini and went down to the beach where she spent a pleasant hour being ogled at and flirted with by attentive men. Just the sort of fillip her ego required.

An early night and a good night's sleep and Miranda woke feeling refreshed and raring to go. Feeling hungry she trotted down to the kitchen without bothering to get dressed. So what if she was naked? She was the only one in the house. She turned on the kettle, having some cereal while waiting for the kettle to boil.

As luck would have it she'd finished her coffee, had just placed the dishes in the sink, and was turning to go and get dressed when there was an interruption. There was the bang as the back door open and a man came surging into the room.

"Yo, Charlie," he yelled as he barged in. "Thought you couldn't make it this weekend."

He spotted Miranda and stopped still looking at her. He was seeing an attractive young woman. A slender brunette with very nice breasts, long curvy legs, shapely hips, and no clothes. Not that he objected to the no clothes part. Or any of the other parts, come to think of it.

What Miranda saw was a burly man in his thirties. Rugged looking, tanned, and smiling. Clothed, she had to admit. Not very clothed but a pair of shorts was a lot more clothing than she was currently wearing.

"Wow," said the stranger. "You are really something special, did you know that? Are you Charlie's current popsy? Don't stand like that. Be a good girl and stand up properly. I'm sure that sort of position is bad for you back. No need to panic about old Barney. He's seen it all before."

On seeing the stranger, and knowing her current unclad status, Miranda had crouched down and was trying to cover everything with her hands.

"Not mine, he hasn't," hissed Miranda. "Go away. Charles is my uncle, as in my father's brother. Just go away."

"Got to admit old Barney still hasn't seen what you've got, because I'm not him. He lives a few doors down. I'm Neil. What's your name? Oh, and stop being silly. I have a photographic memory and I most certainly took a mental photo of you when I first saw you. So stand up. Oh, wait, Charlie's niece. You must be Miranda. How are you?"

"What? Ah, yes, I'm Miranda. Why did you say you were old Barney if you're not?"

"I didn't say that. I just said old Barney's seen it all and you jumped to conclusions. Listen, I'm getting a crick in my back just looking at you all contorted like that. Have a little pride in your lovely figure and stand up properly."

"Go away."

"Not until you stand up properly," came the adamant reply.

Miranda reluctantly stood up holding her hands together in front of her. They might not have been covering anything but at least it felt as though they were.

"Woah," said Neil with what Miranda considered to be unseemly enthusiasm. "You really are magnificent. What the hell is Charlie doing letting you run around loose like that?"

"He's got no say in the manner. He's not even here this weekend."

"You're by yourself," Neil said flatly, sounding annoyed.

"So what? What's wrong with that?"

"You're standing buff naked in front of a man you don't know and you're saying, hey, I'm all alone in this great big house. And you see nothing wrong with this?"

Miranda blushed. Put that way she was being stupid. She should have said Uncle Charles was still asleep.

"Will you please just go away?"

"Soon. I want to try an experiment first. Come over here."

"The hell I will."

"Are you deaf? I said come here."

"And I said no." Miranda was getting angry and defiant.

"OK. Then that establishes one thing," Neil said smiling.

"Excuse me?" Miranda found she was angry and defiant and puzzled.

"You're not a sub."

"A sub?" Miranda was confused.

"A submissive. In other words a female sexual partner who prefers to take the submissive role. They might be ball-busters when they're dressed but once the clothes come off the man rules. That's not you."

"You mean a sub would have just walked up to you when you ordered them to and let you have sex? That is so not me. No-one would do that."

"You'd be surprised. How would you feel if I tossed you on your bed and tied you to it?"

"Good luck with that. I'd scratch your face off. And other things as well."

"So you're not into bondage. Um, spankings?"

"God no. Are you sick?"

Neil spread his hands and shrugged.

"Just checking possibilities," he said, smiling. "Um, how do you feel about rape, rough or gentle?"

"What? No? Rape is rape. How would you expect me to feel? Who on earth would want to be raped?"

"Not me and apparently not you, but some women get off on it. They like the feeling of complete helplessness, being forced to do a man's bidding. I've always considered it a weird fetish, myself.

I'm running out of scenarios here. I don't suppose that you're going to succumb to my manly charms because I'm an irresistible good looking guy with charisma to spare?"

"No. The reason you have charisma to spare is because you haven't used any of it. Possibly you left it at home. Why don't you go home and check?"

Miranda was quite a bit calmer now. Neil might be insane but he didn't seem dangerously insane. All she had to do was talk him out the door and then lock it while she got dressed.

"Well, if you've finished making silly suggestions maybe you can now depart and let me get about my business," she suggested.

"Business like getting dressed I guess you mean. A pity but I suppose you feel you have to. I'll go away and leave you alone. Um, you don't mind if I just take a quick taste of the forbidden fruit?"

Before Miranda could protest Neil had stepped forward, pulling a chair out from the kitchen table and sitting on it, at the same time catching hold of her arm and pulling him down onto his lap. She made a squeaking noise and tried to hit him, only to find her wrists caught and held behind her back in one of his big hands.

"Don't panic," he told her. "Only a taste and then I'll be on my way. No need to worry about rape or bondage of spanking or any other little scenario your imagination might come up with."

With that he bent his head and his mouth fastened onto her breast, kissing it and moving around on it, getting his taste. Apparently sucking on her nipple was included in the tasting. Both breasts and both nipples were included she was to find, while a large hand had managed to ease between her legs and was touching her most inappropriately.

Miranda was trying to wriggle away while his mouth was hot on her flesh. She gasped when he pulled slightly away from her breast and blew on a damp nipple, chilling it. Not that her nipple needed the slight chill to pucker up and seek attention. It was already doing that.

Miranda squirmed and commanded him to stop. She wriggled and begged him to stop. She gasped and demanded he stop when fingers went intruding inside her. Those trespassing fingers brushed oh so lightly across her clitoris causing her to scream, but not protest, because she couldn't find her voice.

The tasting went on for some long, long minutes, leaving Miranda slightly aroused, slightly annoyed, rather frustrated. Neil was doing what he wanted and there was nothing she could do to stop him. Things took a turn for the better when he finally lifted his head and hand away from her body and swung her to her feet, Neil also rising to hers.

Any thoughts that Neil was now leaving were quickly shown to be wrong. She found herself lifted and sat on the kitchen table, her legs being pushed well apart. Neil's head moved between her legs and his tongue darted in where his fingers had previously gone. She gave a gasp and clutched at his hair, determined to snatch him bald if that was what it took to move him.

Her fingers curled into his hair and stayed there. Her hands felt powerless to pull him away. All she could do was clutch him helplessly, all the while feeling his tongue raising havoc with her feelings. It darted here, it slid over there, it brushed up against her clitoris and she thought she might faint.

Neil was going to have sex with her whether she liked it or not and then was nothing she could do to stop him. She was quivering slightly, waiting for him to lay her back and take her.

Neil slowly raised his head and looked at her. She just stared helplessly back at him. He winked and stood up.

"I suppose I'd better go away now and let you get dressed."

"Excuse me?"

With a swift movement Neil lifted her off the table and onto her feet.

"You wanted to get dressed, remember?"

"But, but aren't you going to. . .?" Her voice trailed away and she waved a hand in the general direction of her groin.

"Going to what?" he asked, sounding unbelievably innocent. "I said just a taste. I wouldn't force you if you didn't want to be forced."

Miranda wondered if it would be alright if she screamed. Loudly. He'd deliberately aroused her and now he was backing off? She knew she'd said no, but still. What the hell was she supposed to do now? Tell him she'd changed her mind? No way on god's earth could she do that. She just glared at him, unable to speak.

"You know, I think I've changed my mind," Neil said softly, to Miranda's immense relief. "I think I'll bend you over the table and continue what I've started. Of course, if you run away fast you'll be able to make it to your bedroom and get dressed. Your choice."

Miranda stared at him as Neil started to slowly undo his shorts. Flicking her eyes down she could see a pronounced bulge down there. If she didn't hurry off to get dressed then he was going to fuck her. If she did run and get dressed she'd be kicking herself for being a coward for the rest of the weekend and probably long after, wondering what it would have been like.

His shorts dropped, followed swiftly by a pair of briefs that were too small to hold what was currently in them. His cock seemed to be growing even larger as he stood there. Not that she was looking, she told herself. She most definitely wasn't looking.

Now as naked as she was Neil was moving closer to her. Miranda edged backwards, aware of the table right behind her. Her bottom was pressing against it and she continued leaning back away from Neil, her arms behind her to support her. He stopped, not quite touching her.

He slowly ran his eyes down her and then back up meeting her eyes. His face perfectly solemn he winked at her, then gave a little downwards nod. As his eyes started another downwards sweep Miranda found herself doing the same thing, looking down the length of their bodies. Her eyes opened a little wider and she blushed.

She was leaning back, her pelvis thrust forward. Her legs were parted and she was on full display, blatantly offering herself to him whether that was what she intended or not. She blinked and looked back at his face. He was looking at her again, this time with a slight smile, and he winked again. She felt her blush getting hotter and also felt an insane desire to start giggling. Was giggling appropriate at a time like this?

He moved closer, adjusting the position of his erection, the head of it now pressing against her slit, touching just where her pouting inner lips were on display. Neil pressed forward, finding Miranda parting easily before him, his cock quickly plunging deep into her. No virgin, but he'd already guessed that. Despite that, not very experienced.

Miranda gave a low cry as she felt Neil driving in, his cock sinking into her with what felt like incredible rapidity. One moment he was just touching her, the next it felt as though he'd totally possessed her, his groin now firmly pressed against hers.

She needed this, was Miranda's idle thought. Only an idle one because she was now seriously concentrating on what was taking place. Neil was pulling back and as soon as he paused she was pushing to take him again.

She gasped a little, surging forth to meet his thrusts, wanting him deeper. She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist, feeling the edge of the table biting into her buttocks and not giving a damn. She so wanted this.

Miranda clinging to him like a limpet, Neil drove in hard. He thrust in as deep as possible, feeling the sucking pressure of her passage wrapped around him each time he pulled back for his next lunge. His hands were on her breasts, enjoying the feel of them, rubbing his hands over them firmly, feeling them push back against him, her nipples hard against his palms.

Miranda was giving voice, urging him on, not that any urging was required. He knew what he wanted and he was taking it, giving everything he had to make sure he got what he wanted.

A timeless instant passed for both of them, lost in their pleasure, eager to keep it going while at the same time wanting the urgent finish that was promised. When it came Miranda shrieked, feeling herself dissolving and floating away, while Neil was gasping as he jerked endlessly, losing his seed deep inside her.

Miranda's feet found the floor and Neil was separating, moving away. She remained leaning against the table, not sure her legs would hold her up if she tried to stand unaided.

Neil smiled and winked at her but she didn't respond. What did you say after something like that? Especially as you'd only just met the man.

"Are you here for the whole weekend?" Neil asked, and she nodded, still not speaking.

"That's nice. Ah, are you going to be dressed like this every morning?"

That sharpened her mind.

"What? No!"

"A pity. That means I'll have to waste time taking your clothes off. Well, I'm sure doing that will be its own reward. I'll see you later."

"What do mean you'll be taking my clothes of? You most certainly will not. I don't want to see you again."

"Oh. Well that's not a problem."

"It's not?" asked Miranda feeling oddly chagrined.

"Of course not. I'll call as I come in and you can close your eyes. That way you won't be able to see me or the things I'll be doing to you. Although I can guarantee you will be able to feel them."

His own clothes back on Neil made his exit, giving Miranda one last wink as he left. Miranda watched him go.

He won't be back, she assured herself. But what do I do if he does come back. He'll expect to, um. . . Maybe she should go back home. There again, maybe not.