Popped Page 3

  The lights were on a timer, so we all had to rush up the stairs, hitting the light switches as we went and hurrying to the next floor before darkness descended. It reminded me of when I was a fresh faced student in London back in 2001, and I laughed out loud. Parker laughed with me, without knowing why, but the boys seemed oblivious, talking to each other in Croatian or Russian or Dutch or something. I was fueled by alcohol and desire, and my glasses were still in my bag, so the whole thing seemed like a dream sequence from an Indie movie.

  Their flat was on the fourth floor, and it was as small and dingy as I’d expected. The door opened directly onto a small, cramped living room, with a tattered sofa and a single armchair facing an old fashioned, big box television. There was a kitchen tucked into a corner and two doors on the right, one of which opened onto a tiny bedroom. Parker had already claimed the sofa, sprawling out seductively with her legs open and her dress riding high enough to see her black panties. She smiled at Niko and held out a hand to him.

  “Welcome aboard, Croatia,” she said, and winked at me. “I’ll leave the bedroom to you pair of love birds.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. Goran wasn’t much of a talker, for which I was thankful, so I walked ahead of him into the bedroom and crawled onto the bed.

  “Close the door,” I said.

  “You want drink?” he said, in carefully enunciated English.

  “No, I want you.” I knelt so that we were eye level and pulled my top off. I was wearing tight blue jeans and a natural, slouchy kind of sweater with a scoop neckline. Another fashionable purchase from my shopping trip earlier in the week—not my usual style at all, but all my usual style had ever gotten me was Phillip and parties at his mother’s. I wasn’t wearing anything under the sweater, and my tiny boobs stood straight, their dark brown nipples pointing at Goran expectantly.

  He muttered something in Croatian—barely audible—but if his expression was anything to go by, entirely complimentary. He was a talker after all, just not in English. Was he calling me beautiful, or damning his luck for picking the flat chested waif? Maybe he was calling me a cheap old whore or an English heifer. Who knew? I chose to assume he found me the most desirable woman he’d met in years.

  My jeans came next. After lowering them past my hips, I lay down and let Goran pull them free of my legs. Then I turned over onto my side, showing him the cute white panties I’d bought last weekend at the Ann Summers shop. They only covered half my bum, and had a frilly little bow at the back. What man would not want to pull on that bow and expose my pale white cheeks? The bulge in his pants grew as he stared down at me.

  “Now you,” I said, and watched as he undressed for me. He sported a short, almost military haircut, his face was clean shaven, and he had a six pack that could only come from time spent in a gym. The light dusting of blond hair across his chest completed the picture—he was perfect. And that was before he dropped his pants. I’d never seen a real live cock up close before. Phillip’s didn’t count—I may have felt it when he screwed me up against his bedroom door, but I’d never had a chance to look at it, hold it in my hand, or suck on it.

  Goran’s cock wasn’t huge, but it was hard and ready and pointing right at me. I’d made him hard. Me and my little tits and tight little bum, wrapped up in a pair of white panties and tied off with a pretty bow. Clara Churchill, cock raiser and Croatian heart breaker. I giggled, drunk on alcohol and arousal.

  He climbed onto the bed next to me and crawled up my body, running his hands over me from my legs up past my bum, until they covered my little boobs. “So small,” he said, and crawled further up my body until he was straddling my chest, his balls only inches from my face. Two pendulums, hanging like fruit from a tall tree—that’s how they looked to me as I lay there. I reached up with both hands, grabbing hold of his cock with my right hand and squeezing his balls with my left. There was a little hair but not too much. I wanted to taste his cock, put it into my mouth and suck on it like I’d read about, like Parker would do, but I couldn’t reach it from where I was lying, with Goran on top of me.

  As if he knew what I wanted, he raised his hips high above me, and lowered his cock until it touched my lips, then he moved it left and right, rubbing the tip across my open mouth as if daring me to take it inside. There was no foreskin, nothing to peel back, just a big purple and red head, engorged with blood and eager for release. I took him inside, running my tongue over the tip. It was a mouthful, it was warm, and I loved it. The air smelled of that musky scent that could only come from a naked man—a mixture of sweat and whatever came out of his cock after a night of dancing and hard-ons in the presence of pretty girls. I sucked and licked and swallowed his cock. I made it mine. I loved every inch of it and I was determined to make him come for me, on me, in me.

  “Show me,” I said, my hand stroking his penis. “Come for me.”

  I didn’t need to tell him twice. Before I could move he grabbed hold of his cock, and began to stroke it vigorously. It was a well practiced maneuver, something he’d done before many times. In less than a minute I could see the pressure building up like a dam about to burst. When it did burst I felt the warm rivers of cum shooting out onto my face, wave after wave of pungent white cream landing on my cheeks and forehead, lines of cum in my hair and covering my nose and lips. Then it was over, and the stiffness and urgency went out of his cock. The smell was over powering, a smell I was only barely familiar with from Phillip last week, but this time it was everywhere. I opened my mouth and used my tongue to lick the drops from my lips, eager to see what it tasted like, what it felt like in my mouth. Slippery, slippery and different—not like anything I’d ever tasted before. I wasn’t sure I liked it, but I was sure I wanted it. Wanted him.

  He lay down beside me and sighed in sleepy satisfaction. This would be the downtime I’d read about, the re-charging in preparation for round two. At least I hoped it was. He was talking to me in Croatian again, one hand resting on my flat stomach. A happy soldier, his work done, his woman loved and marked. I reached out with my left hand, grabbed a t-shirt from the bedside table and used it to wipe my face clean, so that I would be ready for the fucking that I hoped would follow.

  A few minutes later the door opened, and Parker poked her head into the room. She motioned at Goran lying next to me, and made some weird hand gestures—a thumbs up maybe. I had no idea what she was on about, so I tossed the soiled t-shirt at her. She caught it, raised it to her face, and then immediately dropped it, wringing her hands and trying hard not to laugh out loud. I could see that she was naked, her boobs silhouetted in the dim light of the room. She waved and retreated back into the living room.

  I needed to fuck him. I needed to feel that wonderful cock inside me, to ride him as he lay there. And why not, I thought. This was why I was here, why I’d asked for Manchester and why I’d asked for Parker. This was why I’d run out of Phillip’s mother’s house last week.

  I slipped out from beneath Goran’s arm, raised myself up onto my knees and pulled my panties down. Goran was watching me, following every movement as if I were something dangerous that he had to keep in sight at all times. I peeled the panties off, tossed them onto the pillow next to his head, and climbed on top of him. He was a big man, easily twice my size. I took hold of his soft cock and began to massage it, stroking it and pulling on it gently, encouraging the blood to start flowing. I didn’t have to wait long, in minutes he was rock hard again. I was ready and eager to have him inside me, to feel what it was like when I wanted it to happen.

  With one foot planted on either side of his chest, I lowered myself onto his cock. My pussy was more than just damp; it was ready, had been ready all night, maybe all my life. A coating of hair surrounded my opening, and I guided Goran’s cock between my lips, through the dark bush and into the moist warmth. Once I’d trapped his head I lowered myself slowly until he filled me, my hands resting on his chest. I felt no pain, no violence or urgency—it was peaceful, as if I’d come home after a journe
y of many years and much hardship. And then I raised myself up and lowered myself again, building up a slow but steady rhythm. Goran watched me as I moved above him, content to let me lead and take from him what I needed. I felt that he knew how special this moment was to me. I rode him slow, I rode him softly, and I rode him hard, looking down at him as I did. I rode him until I came, for the first time in my life, truly came, the orgasm shuddering through my body, touching every cell and filling up a great emptiness. And then I continued to ride him until I brought him to another juddering, hungry, messy, but so beautiful orgasm. I lay down on top of him, and he held me in his arms, whispering meaningless Croatian words into my ear, his cock still resting inside me.

  I slept.

  Chapter 8

  Morning comes late in January, and when Parker shook me awake the room was in darkness, with no signs of sunlight from the window. It could have been two or seven in the morning, I couldn’t tell.

  “Clara, wake up,” she said, whispering into my ear.

  “What time is it?” I said, lifting my head from where it rested on Goran’s chest and rubbing my eyes with one hand.

  “Six in the morning. We have to go if we’re going to get back to the hotel in time to get ready.” She fumbled around in the dark using the street lights from the window to guide her.

  “Where are your clothes? Come on, Clara, get up.”

  “Alright, alright, I’m coming.” And then I almost laughed. I’d come alright, for the first time in my life I’d really come, and the reason was lying asleep on the bed beside me. After I rode him we’d fallen asleep, but I’d woken some time later to the feel of his hands between my legs, and we’d made love quietly in the dark of the night. He parted my legs and laid himself on top of me, entering me with his penis while his tongue entered my mouth. It was a perfect end to a perfect night, and a perfect start to my new life.

  I crawled out from under the covers, being careful to pull them back up so that they covered Goran, and I took the jeans that Parker was holding out to me. I didn’t bother trying to find my panties, as I had no idea where they’d ended up. Another pair lost, I thought. I quickly pulled on my sweater and stepped into my shoes. My bag was waiting by the door, and I slipped my glasses on as I closed it behind us. The living room was in darkness, with sounds of light snoring coming from the sofa. Parker opened the door as quietly as she could and we both stepped out into the hallway and made our way down the narrow staircase.

  There was a light drizzle falling as we stepped out onto the steps in front of the house. It was still dark but there was activity on the streets, buses taking early risers to work and cars on the move. The day had begun, even though the sun still slept. I felt like my life had just begun. This had been the greatest night of my life, and I didn’t even know the man responsible—a stranger, but a kind, foreign stranger. Then there was Parker—without her, this wouldn’t have happened. Oh, I’d have found my way on my own, but she was the perfect guide in my new life.

  I looked up at the dark sky and held my arms out as if in worship. The rain water baptized me, welcoming me into the fold of a new congregation. All at once I was euphoric. I was high, high on life and all the potential and possibilities that lay before me.

  I opened my mouth and shouted as loud as I could: “FREEDOM!”

  Parker was laughing so hard she was bent over, her hands on her knees and her hair wild. I shouted again, letting the world know that something momentous had occurred—that I had arrived. And then I joined her in laughter.

  “Come on, Braveheart,” Parker said as she pulled on my arm and forced me onto the foot path. “We’ve got a bus to catch.”

  It was ten minutes to seven when we crashed through the door of the hotel, laughing at each other, at our messy hair, at the craziness of the whole situation. Two men in suits were checking out and looked up as we crossed the tiny lobby.

  “Nice arse,” I said to one as we walked past, and then I burst into laughter and hurried up the stairs.

  “What’s got into you?” Parker asked.

  “Life,” I answered, “the universe, everything. I got laid last night—properly.”

  “I know. It kind of shows. Now get in there and get ready. You’re the boss, remember. Start bossing.”

  “Yes, yes, yes, I am calm,” I said, trying to pull myself together. “Half an hour in the lobby. Let’s do it.”

  I took a long hot shower, washing the scent of sex off my body and the dried cum from my hair, then I spent a good ten minutes drying and brushing, thinking of the night before and what it meant for the days and weeks ahead. Clara’s New Life was well under way.

  Chapter 9

  The following Friday evening found me on the train to Chiswick Park once again. I’d decided that I had to put a formal end to things with Phillip and say my goodbyes to his mother.

  It had been a fantastic week—the user-group was hailed as the best ever, with compliments coming in from all quarters, and we had received a great reception back in the office. Dale had hugged me after calling me into his office, using the opportunity for a quick ass grab—big surprise. A few weeks earlier it would have embarrassed me, but now I knew that he was just a harmless old man, and there was talk of promotion, so I let it slide.

  Stephen and Adrian walked around the office with sour looks on their faces, bemoaning the fact that the praise had landed on everyone but them and their boy’s club. I’d put Parker forwards for a promotion to line manager—it had nothing to do with our out-of-office escapades, honest. Cross my heart and all. Things were moving in the right direction. I was enjoying life for the first time since I was a school girl, and it felt liberating.

  So here I was, traveling to Chiswick to tie off a loose end before embracing my future with abandon. I was eager to get it done, eager to see Phillip one last time, to see what he looked like through my newly colored glasses.

  Earl’s Court station was packed—as usual—with crowds of commuters changing trains and heading for outer London. As my train left the station, I felt something familiar behind me and almost laughed out loud—that same hardness pressing into my back that had kicked off my soul searching on New Year’s Eve. I looked at the reflections in the window to see who it was, and as expected it was the same pervy guy in the same tired gray suit rubbing himself up against me.

  Bad timing. I was a different woman now.

  I looked over my shoulder and met his eyes. Speaking calmly and loud enough for everyone around me to hear, I said: “Is that your penis you’re rubbing up against me?”

  He looked at me as if I’d slapped him, and hurriedly pulled back, bumping into the two young women standing behind him and almost falling over.

  “Well?” I said. “I’m waiting.” And I gave him my boss lady stare.

  “I wasn’t doing anything. I was just standing here,” he said, his eyes darting from left to right, looking for an escape route.

  “You dirty little pervert. Get yourself a girlfriend,” I said, and then turned away from him as if he were of no more consequence to me than a dog piddling up against a lamp post. Most of the other female passengers were grinning, and one of them had a mobile phone out and pointed at him. The flash from the camera sent him rushing down the carriage, and led to a burst of laughter from the two women he’d almost fallen over.

  “Yeah, you run,” one of them shouted after him.

  I pulled a book from my handbag, and leaned up against the door, content to get some reading done on the ten minute journey. I may have changed in many ways in recent weeks, but I still liked to read. Change the bad, the dull, and the boring, but keep the good—all part of the plan. Thank God for PowerPoint presentations.

  The walk down South Parade to Richard’s Mother’s house brought back memories, and when she answered the door I felt a wave of nostalgia rush over me. I’d always liked Mrs. Criddle, even though I did think she should have thrown Phillip out decades ago.

  “Clara, dear,” she said, the surprise evident,
“we weren’t expecting you.”

  “I should have called, but I thought you’d be here, and I was passing.”

  “Phillip’s upstairs in his room. Should I call him down?”

  “Never mind, I’ll go up myself.”

  “He was ever so upset that he couldn’t get hold of you these past weeks. Did something happen, dear? At the party? You disappeared so sudden like.”

  “Nothing happened. I just wasn’t feeling well, and didn’t want to spoil the party.”

  “You’re alright now though?”

  “Never been better,” I said, and headed for the stairs.

  Telling her what had really happened on New Year’s while she was serving drinks downstairs never entered my head. I liked her too much, and she was far too besotted with her son to have that picture implanted in her mind.

  There was eighties music coming from Phillip’s bedroom. Diana Ross I think it was, singing Chain Reaction. Phillip’s taste in music seemed to have frozen when he was a teenager. In retrospect, Phillip himself seemed to have frozen somewhere in the 1980s, living with his Mum, retiring to his bedroom after dinner, treating women like alien creatures who gave him erections.

  I opened the door without knocking and walked in. If I was hoping to find him playing with himself like a typical teenager, I was disappointed. He was lying on his bed, head propped up on two pillows, reading a science fiction novel wrapped in a library cover.

  “Clara,” he shouted, surprised and a little shocked to see me. He jumped up from the bed, dropping his book in the process. “Where have you been?”

  “Croatia,” I answered, closing the door firmly behind me and stepping into the room.