A bit of stranger danger is the ultimate turn on.
I woke up to find a man in my bedroom, a dark shadow by the door.
“Don’t move,” he said, and then, as I gasped, added, “Oh shit!”
I stayed still, my heart thumping so loudly I wasn’t sure if I’d heard right.
“You’re not Ellie,” he said. “I’m in the wrong flat. Oh, shit, shit, shit!”
My heart slowed. Either he was a burglar/rapist/stalker with a poor sense of direction, or something else was going on here. My eyes adjusted and I saw he was dressed in black – not good. But he didn’t sound threatening, more embarrassed.
“I came up that fire escape,” he said. “I must not have gone far enough. Your back door was open but… what number is this?”
“This is 23A,” I said.
“Shit! We’re 21A, I’ve gone too far!”
You have indeed mate, I thought. My mobile was charging on the floor, by the bed – if I could get my arm down I could grab the phone and slide it under the duvet where the glow screen wouldn’t show as I pressed the number for emergency services.
“Look, can I go out of your front door? I can’t face that death-trap again.”
The man in black was asking my permission to leave? That was a bit of a twist. I could understand about the fire escape, though. It ran down the back of the building, but instead of being a big metal staircase like American cops use on TV, it was a series of metal rings you had to climb inside.
I reached out silently for my phone; it was icy in the room.
“So, you live here, do you?” I asked, still not convinced he wasn’t trying to get me off my guard.
“Just moved in, me and my girlfriend. Look, I know how strange this must seem.”
“Do you? Do you have any idea how much it frightens a woman to wake up and find her home’s been invaded?” Don’t argue with him, Ros, my mind screamed, don’t make him angry!
“It wasn’t my idea,” he said. “Did you ever read a book by Iain Banks called Complicity?”
“Nope… well, maybe.” I had my fingertips on my mobile.
“Well, Ellie did, they’re both Scottish. Anyway, it starts with this guy breaking in and having rough sex with a woman, but it turns out it was planned between them. Ellie thought it might…”
Spice things up a bit, I finished mentally, withdrawing my arm from under the covers. It didn’t seem so urgent now.
“Well, we’ve got into a bit of a rut I guess, so new flat, new kinds of excitement, I suppose.”
I could see now he was empty-handed. “So you were going to pretend to be James Bond, right?”
“No, I was going to subdue her…”
“How?” Don’t ask that, you stupid cow, my brain howled. What kind of idiot asks an intruder how they plan to subdue a woman?
He raised his hands slightly. “I study judo – a simple hold should have done it, and then… Look, you must be scared, shall I put the light on?” He reached for the switch.
“No!” I yelled. Too late, his hand brushed the doorframe, smearing the gloss paint I’d spent the whole day applying.
“Shit!” He looked at the white smear on his hand. “Well, that explains why the door was open, I suppose – the smell of the paint?”
“Yup,” I said.
“Us too, whole place stinks. You should be more careful though, anybody could climb up that thing…” he realised what he’d said and laughed. After a second, so did I. He reached for the light switch again.
“Don’t,” I said.
“Why not?” His hand, marked by the paint, hovered in the air.
“We’re neighbours. I don’t know how you’re going to explain this to your girlfriend, but I reckon the less we know about each other the better. If I don’t know what you look like, I can never be entirely sure it’s you, can I?”
The pale oval of his face nodded. “You’re right. And about Ellie. She’ll never understand.”
“Been together long?” I asked.
“Just over a year. The thing is…” he stepped forwards, then back again, but the movement had been enough for me to see that he was slim and dark-haired. “Well, I think the whole thing’s doomed, to be honest. We were both on the rebound and this just proves to me that we’re not on the same wavelength.”
“You don’t fancy a bit of rough sex, then?” Why are you discussing sexual preferences with a complete stranger in the middle of the night, I asked myself? Truth is, I liked his voice.
“I do, sure I do; but not like this.”
“Like what, then?” I sat up.
“Well, more balanced, you know? Like some kind of contest where you have to pin the other person down and give them pleasure and they have to try and stop you. Sort of gladiatorial, I guess. Does that sound insane?”
It sounded interesting. And there were other interesting things going on. Like, he hadn’t left, and he hadn’t stopped looking at me. He had the advantage of whatever light was coming through the bedroom curtains behind me, while I was looking into the pitch blackness of the hall. So he could see me better than I could see him.
“It’s a real fantasy of yours, not just something you’ve said to please me, like you did to your girlfriend?”
He grinned suddenly. Something reckless about that grin. “It’s real”
“Go on then,” I lifted my arms, letting the skinny vest I wore in bed ride up so he got a flash of my belly. “Make it as real as you like.”
For a couple of heartbeats he didn’t move, then, faster than I’d expected, he pounced and pinned my arms to my sides. His mouth was against my hair and he whispered, “Are you sure?”
My heart was slamming. Was I sure? “Yes,” I said, but my voice was thick with nerves. He changed his grip, pinning my hands behind me in one of his, and began to kiss my neck and shoulders, nibbling on the tendons so that I shuddered and tipped my head back, baring my own teeth to the ceiling. His other hand grabbed my hair and pulled so my neck was stretched to the utmost.
“You’re supposed to try and stop me,” he murmured in my ear, laughter under the words.
I remembered the first time I’d seen him, at the gym. From the beginning I’d wanted him, but his girlfriend was usually there too, a pretty woman, faffing around on an exercise bike. He worked out hard and so did I – it was inevitable we’d end up alone together a lot, especially as the winter got worse and the fair weather athletes faded away. It was inevitable I’d hear through the gym gossip that they were looking for a place to rent. It was inevitable he’d see the offer of a flat on the notice-board. It was inevitable – because I was the one who’d put it there.
Now I scissored my legs, tipping his weight and using my upper body as a fulcrum to flip him backwards. I knelt astride him, and my body was open over him like an invitation. I pinned one of his hands, but I couldn’t catch the other. We thrashed for control and he flipped me in turn, so I was spread-eagled under him. We were both breathing heavily now. In the dimness I could see his hard-on, tenting the fabric of his jogging pants, so I slid under him until my legs were off the bed and my head level with his waist. The movement caught him unawares, and before he could react I’d yanked down his waistband and got my hand around his prick.
Hot. Pulsing. He groaned. I squeezed. He lifted one arm so he was balanced on the other and ran his fingers down my body until he found my breast. His fingers pinched the nipple and I gasped. He was strong. Very strong, to stay balanced like that. Now his fingers were in my hair, trying to drag me up again, but I opened my mouth and swiped my tongue along his shaft from balls to head.
“Shit!” he hissed, lowering his weight onto me and rolling so I was on top, my face in his crotch. He grabbed my arse and hauled me up so I sprawled on him in a tangle of limbs until his fingers found where I was open and began to explore, holding my left hip hard with one hand while the other slid inside me, then out, running the whole length of my slit, finding the bud that made me gasp, then back inside again. I started to rock to and fro, not sure if I was tipping myself off him, or further on. Didn’t matter, it was going to happen anyway, just as I’d known it would when I’d heard them arguing in the corridor outside the changing rooms.
“You just don’t have what it takes!” she’d yelled. “You’re a wimp – any other bloke would jump at the chance to play that kind of game!” I’d heard her throw the book at him. It had been on the floor when I’d sneaked out, while she was in the shower. I’d taken it home and read it. It had been obvious what she’d wanted.
When I’d seen him next, I’d handed him the book. “Wouldn’t work,” I’d said.
He’d blinked, looked me up and down, then stared into my eyes. “Why not?”
I’d been pleased he didn’t pretend.
“Because you know how she’s going to react and vice versa. For a game like that to work, it’d have to be with a stranger.”
I’d left an old envelope with my name and address on it in the book. He’d taken the hint, obviously.
I slammed myself down onto his hand, grinding his fingers into my clit, until I came.
Then I pushed down harder still, feeling the afterpulse of orgasm, trapping his hand in my heat, reaching round to grab his shaft and start pumping. His free hand locked in my hair, pulling my head down savagely until we were kissing. No, not kissing, mashing our lips together, biting each other. His fingers twisted inside me, making me gasp and then throb. His rhythm matched mine, I worked him as he worked me, there was a harsh sound that I finally recognised as our breathing, and then the pressure to come rose again and I gripped him tighter, moving faster. I felt the hot splash of his orgasm on the back of my thigh just before I spiralled into my second orgasm, red clouds pulsing behind my closed eyelids, his breath against my mouth, fuelling my pleasure.
When it stopped I felt limp, like I’d been circuit training. He lay beneath me, eyes closed, fingers still twisted in my hair. I pinched his earlobe, hard.
“Shit!” He was a one exclamation man, obviously.
I lifted myself off him, feeling the shuddering of my thigh and arm muscles, exertion and pleasure combining to leave me exhausted. I kicked his hip, pushing him to the edge of the bed and off it, where he hit the floor, although I was impressed to notice he managed to land on his hands and knees – good reflexes.
I pointed to the door and he shook his head, but in amazement, not disagreement.
When he was gone I dragged myself to the back door and bolted it. I’d have to repaint the doorframe tomorrow too – couldn’t have the new owners thinking I was sloppy.
I rolled back onto the bed. In two days time I’d have moved out. A new flat, and a new gym, and who knew what new adventures?
