herself as she slipped into her panties. She always had clean underwear. You didn't need a laundrette for cleaning those. That's what sinks were for.
I'm a mess, she thought to herself as she surveyed the state of her apartment. The clutter and mess everywhere. It wasn't filthy in there, nothing like that. But it was an obsessive-compulsive's worst nightmare.
Scarlet looked at herself in the mirror. Slim physique, not one pound heavier than she had been at eighteen . . . and that was ten years ago. Her breasts were always her best asset. Not too big, not too small. Just slightly larger than a man's hand. She'd always been pretty and aging hadn't yet diminished her looks at all. She'd been lucky, really. When she ran across old school friends in the street, she was always amazed at how aged and weathered they looked.
No I'm not a mess , she corrected herself. The apartment is. Me? I'm one hot piece of arse.
That made her laugh out loud. She grabbed the white dress and pulled the tag free from the label at the back. Usually she'd be going out with her friends, or at the very least, meeting them somewhere. But not tonight. This one was a solo mission, no wing-mate. Not even her best friend James.
"Just you and me tonight, baby," she said to the dress. "And we're gonna do some damage."
2.
He picked her up before midnight in a bar called MICKEY'S. They got talking – as much as you can above the din of the music – and he bought Scarlet a drink.
"I'm Liam, by the way," he said as she finished another drink. The room was starting to turn, everything around her getting comfortably hazy. "Do you want another one?"
He moved to take her empty glass. She laid her own hand over his. Their eyes met across the little table. The music boomed.
"I don't want another drink. I want to go home."
She didn't have to explain what she meant. If the way she said it didn't make the subtext apparent, the look in her eyes did. He led her out of the bar, his hand confidently around her waist. They signalled a taxi and she gave the driver her address. The city lights buzzed past as they made out in the back of the cab, the driver making occasional glances in the mirror to watch. They pulled up outside her apartment block and she watched as Liam paid the man, pulling two tens from a wallet fat with notes.
"Shall we?" he asked her.
Scarlet led the way up the stairs, holding his hand. She opened the door to her apartment but didn't bother to throw on the lights. Liam shut the door behind them.
"Do you want anything?" Scarlet asked him.
He answered her by moving in, cupping her chin in his hand and pressing his mouth against hers. His tongue explored the warm cavern of her mouth, his hands moving to hold her hips, her hands brushing over his shirt. She started unbuttoning him, revealing the smooth skin beneath. Liam pressed her against the wall, their tongues still entwined in a long, deep, passionate kiss.
Scarlet reached down for his belt buckle, the leather strap pulling free of the metal, then her fingers tugging on the clip at the top of his trousers.
Liam pulled away from her and before she could ask him if anything was the matter, he asked, "Where's your bedroom?"
3.
They fell onto the bed and kissed for what seemed like an age, their hands wandering across each other's bodies.
Liam's hand found her thigh, then slid up her dress. Scarlet grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand up, against her cotton panties. He took the hint, pulled her briefs aside. His fingertips ran down the warm, wet fold of her vagina, back and forth.
"Hold on."
Scarlet hiked her dress up to her waist, parted her legs for him. She arched her back as he held her panties away and went to work on her with his mouth.
He was good, maybe the best she'd ever had. Some men didn't like giving oral, but Liam obviously loved it. She could tell. He licked her up and down first, the tip of his tongue playing across the edges of her lips before
I'm a mess, she thought to herself as she surveyed the state of her apartment. The clutter and mess everywhere. It wasn't filthy in there, nothing like that. But it was an obsessive-compulsive's worst nightmare.
Scarlet looked at herself in the mirror. Slim physique, not one pound heavier than she had been at eighteen . . . and that was ten years ago. Her breasts were always her best asset. Not too big, not too small. Just slightly larger than a man's hand. She'd always been pretty and aging hadn't yet diminished her looks at all. She'd been lucky, really. When she ran across old school friends in the street, she was always amazed at how aged and weathered they looked.
No I'm not a mess , she corrected herself. The apartment is. Me? I'm one hot piece of arse.
That made her laugh out loud. She grabbed the white dress and pulled the tag free from the label at the back. Usually she'd be going out with her friends, or at the very least, meeting them somewhere. But not tonight. This one was a solo mission, no wing-mate. Not even her best friend James.
"Just you and me tonight, baby," she said to the dress. "And we're gonna do some damage."
2.
He picked her up before midnight in a bar called MICKEY'S. They got talking – as much as you can above the din of the music – and he bought Scarlet a drink.
"I'm Liam, by the way," he said as she finished another drink. The room was starting to turn, everything around her getting comfortably hazy. "Do you want another one?"
He moved to take her empty glass. She laid her own hand over his. Their eyes met across the little table. The music boomed.
"I don't want another drink. I want to go home."
She didn't have to explain what she meant. If the way she said it didn't make the subtext apparent, the look in her eyes did. He led her out of the bar, his hand confidently around her waist. They signalled a taxi and she gave the driver her address. The city lights buzzed past as they made out in the back of the cab, the driver making occasional glances in the mirror to watch. They pulled up outside her apartment block and she watched as Liam paid the man, pulling two tens from a wallet fat with notes.
"Shall we?" he asked her.
Scarlet led the way up the stairs, holding his hand. She opened the door to her apartment but didn't bother to throw on the lights. Liam shut the door behind them.
"Do you want anything?" Scarlet asked him.
He answered her by moving in, cupping her chin in his hand and pressing his mouth against hers. His tongue explored the warm cavern of her mouth, his hands moving to hold her hips, her hands brushing over his shirt. She started unbuttoning him, revealing the smooth skin beneath. Liam pressed her against the wall, their tongues still entwined in a long, deep, passionate kiss.
Scarlet reached down for his belt buckle, the leather strap pulling free of the metal, then her fingers tugging on the clip at the top of his trousers.
Liam pulled away from her and before she could ask him if anything was the matter, he asked, "Where's your bedroom?"
3.
They fell onto the bed and kissed for what seemed like an age, their hands wandering across each other's bodies.
Liam's hand found her thigh, then slid up her dress. Scarlet grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand up, against her cotton panties. He took the hint, pulled her briefs aside. His fingertips ran down the warm, wet fold of her vagina, back and forth.
"Hold on."
Scarlet hiked her dress up to her waist, parted her legs for him. She arched her back as he held her panties away and went to work on her with his mouth.
He was good, maybe the best she'd ever had. Some men didn't like giving oral, but Liam obviously loved it. She could tell. He licked her up and down first, the tip of his tongue playing across the edges of her lips before
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