Blind Carnival

Second Course

She plods to the kitchen. Her feet are cold on the floor, she obviously isn't thirsty, but she pours some water and takes measured sips hoping to quench her other thirst. Oh, that's bad, even for you, Dane.

She sits at the table and stares at the photo of his footie team on the fridge. She's sipping, and brooding, but the sodding intrusive fantasies don't go away. She's so randy that she has half a thought of going to the bathroom and getting off on her own. The problem is it's never fast with her. To be honest, she often has trouble coming on her own. It works best with some media, hentai or something. She could take her phone of course, but it's on the bedside table, and John would probably be surprised if she took it and went to the loo. He might be sleeping, though.

"Are you OK?" John's raspy voice comes from the door, and she jumps up.

He's leaning on the door frame, in his checkered bottoms and a soft tee. What a sex god! The tousled hair, the flushed cheekbones, the soft lips... Blimey, Olivia, what you just imagined doing to him probably can't even go into your books!

She chokes on her water but tries to nod reassuringly. She rushes to the sink and starts industriously washing the glass, just to do something. She might scrub a hole in it if she continues in the same manner. It's still better than looking at him, because she might just jump him if she does. And it'll be awkward for everyone involved.

"I really fancy those bottoms," he announces merrily, and she turns sharply.

Yeah, he's not talking about her PJs. She would doubt her hormone clouded mind at the moment, but that's not a gun in his pocket. She'd punch the air in triumph, but she's too busy making very, very enthusiastic plans for several parts of his massive body.

"Do you now?" she murmurs and licks her lips.

She slowly walks towards him, hoping it looks seductive, and her hips are swaying - once again, she's written it many times, but isn't sure if it actually happens in real life. He makes a big step ahead, picks her up under her arms, and deposits her bottom in the aforementioned bottoms on the kitchen table. Goodness, that's so fit! And perfect! And just what she wanted, and more!

She grabs his tee, pulls him closer, and finally gets her mind-blowing snog. She wraps her legs around his hips, and the height is perfect! She has a thought that she was wrong before, the sofa would have been too low. She treads her fingers into his hair, wiggles her bum, rubbing on him, and he rumbles in his chest and presses into her more and more. He bites her bottom lip greedily, making her moan. His hands splay on her ribs, under the vest, and she whimpers from the sheer bliss.

He's sucking on the muscle between her neck and shoulder, all according to the genre - and it works in real life! - when she suddenly mumbles, "I ran to the kitchen because I wanted you, and didn't know if you wanted me, and I didn't want to pressure you, and I just couldn't help but–"

He lifts his face and stares at her.

"Just tell me next time," he says simply and smiles widely. "I'll probably be in the mood."

Alright? That simple? Wow. So, just like that then.

She grabs the bottom of his tee and jerks it off him.

"Blimey, I'm so happy I went on that blind date," she mutters into his shoulder, and then bites it gently.

He returns the favour with her PJ top, removing it in one swipe.

"Me too!"

She unties the strings on his bottoms. She's so turned on, it's almost painful! Oh wait, she's said it already before. But now it's good painful, as in her ache was elevated by his tender caresses.

And then he starts laughing loudly.

"Olivia..."

Oh sod it. She had the same thought as he did just a second later. No Durex! He cups her face and snogs her so hard that she feels that her hackneyed flaming locks have caught actual fire.

"Let's make sure you wait for me this time..." he purrs.

He's chuckling, and she has no objection to his, please and thank you. She pushes her hand down into his bottoms and strokes the silky skin of his cock with her palm. It's orgasmic, and it's hard and hot, and he's taking spasmodic breaths in with an open mouth.

"You have three seconds to run to the bathroom," she commands.

She unwraps her legs and arms from around him. He sprints to the door, and she closes your eyes. She's listening to her body. It still feels... good. She'll ponder it later.

He's back, and he steps into the same spot. She opens her mouth to suggest he takes off his bottoms, when he says, "You should lie down, and I can remind you what it's all about."

Is he offering another round of the 'dirty conducting' the two of them indulged in before the grocery run? Because it's properly unnecessary.

"My memory works just fine."

Olivia wiggles and bobs on the table, and her bottoms and knickers fly across the kitchen. Let's face it, she's always wanted to try the 'flamboyant throwing of clothing items aside' thing. He chuckles and lunges at her while pushing his trousers down.

Before kissing her, he opens his mouth and she knows a daft pun is coming. She wonders shortly what it's going to be: 'dinner is served' or 'I've been starved,' but he suddenly pauses, looks her over, and just smiles.

It's a new smile, and she thinks she might not be the only one with the symptoms of 'fancying a person too early.'

She smiles back, and then the loved up John disappears, and the randy John is back. Hooray!