Blind Carnival

Back to Work

Once he comes with a loud groan and she falls back with a loud thud of her shoulder blades on the polished Canadian maple surface, four things become clear:

A. The table is indeed the perfect height, as if bought specifically with this activity in mind.

B. There's a reason why people shag in bed. Beds are soft. Her tailbone is properly disgruntled. She doesn't have much padding in the hip and bum area, so there will be a bruise.

C. She can't come in this position. The rubbing is slightly off target, so to say.

And finally D. This might be her favourite position so far. He's long and thick, and she was properly... um, fulfilled. Damn his contagious love for puns. His cock has a funny curve to it, which added to the overall enjoyment of the process. The tip was hitting some back wall there, and she might have been actually overstimulated, and that's why no orgasm. But again, it was worth it, because that was ace!

She's staring at his ceiling as he's pressing his hands into the table near her body, his head dropped and his breathing coming out in cute pants.

"I think I want this table in the bedroom now," is his first phrase, his voice slightly trembling, and she giggles.

He groans, she's probably 'tickling' him inside.

"That would take all the fun out of it. The point is to shag on the kitchen table. And―"

She groans as well and rises on her elbows. She meets his eyes. That's what they call satiated.

"And there's all this other furniture in the flat we haven't tried yet," she adds.

He grins and moves away. Wow, that's a funny feeling. With this angle she can finally understand the whole discussion of 'He slid out of her leaving her with a sudden feeling of emptiness. She was sated and slightly sore.' And yes, that's a quote from her recent bestseller In Her Arms, In Her Heart. The protagonist is a heroic firefighter pilot recovering from a spine injury, and she's his massage therapist. Cue a lot of massage table shagging. She did describe it in detail, and she wasn't even that much off, but having first hand experience is quite a different story.

The two of them plod back to bed, and he goes back to spooning her. This time she purrs and curls into him, properly enjoying his nuzzling and snuggling efforts.

"Next time tell me, OK? You know, if you want a shag," he murmurs sleepily, and she snorts.

"Making plans already, are we?"

"Just ensuring future opportunities."

She just loves his low velvet voice, all rumbly and suggestive, but also warm and cosy. It might not just be the voice that you fancy, Dane. Oops.

***

The next few days she works industriously and even cancels a date with him - because she's struggling.

She doesn't fancy Gerome anymore. The bloke is properly annoying, and she honestly can't remember why she decided that a blond sleazebag would be a good pairing for her Theresa. Olivia doesn't particularly like her either, to think of it; she is a bit too preoccupied with her love life and a tad clingy, but still, maybe Gerome's cousin, Sebastian, would be a slightly better option for her. He might be a bit boring, but Olivia is starting to appreciate the lack of drama these days.

With Allan, there was always something going on in her life. First, the two of them struggled through college and the loans and the exams. Then his Mum got sick, and his dad had a stroke. Then Bea married Olivia's Dad. Then Allan and she were looking for a flat. They were broke. Her books weren't selling. He lost his job. Then he found a new job and he was having trouble with his boss. Then there was the whole drama with her miscarriage and her refusal to try again. And then one day there was the phone call from the police, and the funeral, and then... the world just froze for seven years.