Colette's One Night Stand

The scratch of the key in the door announced the boys return around midnight. They were both in high spirits, laughing and mucking about. The front door thumped shut, for some reason giggles ensued. I was sat with Becky watching TV in the front room when Steve stuck his head around the door.

"We're back." He announced, as if we were likely to have missed their arrival. He stooped down and kissed Becky briefly, then left. Becky smiled at me as the door swung shut behind him, rolling her eyes theatrically.

We could hear them in the kitchen - fridge opening, cans popping, chairs scraping on the tiles, then chatter. We turned our attention back to the programme we'd been watching, both of us curled up on separate two-seater settees, my elbow resting on the arm, as I stretched across both cushions.

When the credits rolled on the programme we'd been watching, Becky flicked the television off.

"Shall we?" She said, motioning towards the kitchen with her head. "Maybe a nightcap or two before bed?"

"Sounds like a plan." I said, and when I held out my hands, Becky pulled me to my feet, and I followed her out and into the kitchen. Whilst Steve fixed Becky a gin and tonic, Phil leant back around the pantry door.

"Hi. What can I get you?" He asked.

"Cider?"

"Sure." He disappeared momentarily, before returning, closing the pantry door behind him with a gentle push from the sole of his red Converse boot. He handed over a can, popping the top first. It was cold from the fridge. "There you go."

"Thanks!" I took a quick sip, then watched him unashamedly up and down. My gaze landing eventually on his face, he was strangely familiar and my look lingered too long, so when his eyes met mine, I dropped them instantly to my hands, which were cupped together on the table as if in prayer.

Steve handed Becky her drink in a highball glass, ice cubes muddling together, whilst Phil scratted around in the cupboards - I watched him again as he stretched up to the top shelf, his t-shirt riding up a little - just a hint of skin just above the waistband of his jeans. I let him stretch, presumably he was looking for a glass for me, as his beer was already poured into a pint glass, a perfect head sat on top so that it filled the glass completely.

"No glass required on my account." I said to him, eliciting a shrug from him as he turned around, his t-shirt falling back into place.

"Fair enough." He said before taking a gulp from his beer, his tongue subsequently clearing the foam that coated his top lip. I was staring at him again, I knew I was, but I was sure I knew him. Becky and Steve were cuddled up leaning against the worktop on the other side of the kitchen, kissing gently, Becky's gin and tonic seemingly forgotten. For a moment, it was the only sound in the room.

"Do I know you?" I asked, standing up as Phil seemed in no hurry to join me at the table, maybe wondering how quickly he could extricate himself from a room with one stranger and two lovebirds. Phil looked at me quizzically, his head tilting slightly to one side.

"Sorry." He said, after a moment's pause. "Phil." He said, holding out his hand for me to shake like I was his golf partner or something. "And you're Colette?" It was half-statement, half-question. "You've just moved down here, for a new job."

"Yep, that's me." I took his hand and shook it. "And I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." I said and nodded formally at him. A suitable comment, I thought, in light of him wanting to shake my hand. In return, I got that slightly quizzical look again, accompanied this time by a smile - a small one - a smile-let if you will. All I got for my troubles was a rising hot flush in my cheeks. In the silence, I took a gulp from my can and could again just hear Steve and Becky kissing behind me. I knew where this would end. They were pretty predictable when they'd had a few drinks. Kissing, cuddling, then upstairs for robust and noisy sex whilst I tried to get to sleep. Probably better to make more of an effort with the conversation with Phil.

"So how are you settling in down here? It's quite a bit different from Leeds"

"Yes it is." I said, with a short laugh. "Good. Really good. I love the job. It's hectic, long hours, but great - but as a result, my social life's not what it should be, so Becks and Steve are still the only people outside work that I really know - apart from my housemates.

"Housemates! Don't tell me. London prices. Shared house. Bit like being at university again, but with more bills and less fun."

"Yeah, something like that. To be honest, it's why I crash here sometimes. Becks and Steve have been really good to me, helping me settle in. And sometimes, escaping here for some peace and quiet - and some space - is a bit of a contrast to my tiny cell in Clapham." I paused briefly and sipped my drink, current life history delivered. "It's not quite what I meant earlier though with thedo-I-know-youthing. We've met before, I think."

He looked me up and down, similar to how I had done to him, only his eyes seemed to linger briefly in all the right places - the curvy places - before returning to my face, so I smiled at him and tried to push the quizzical look back.

"Umm." He said, filling a gap in the silence. "I used to play football with Steve in Leeds."

"But not work together?"

"Nope, you worked with him though, right? That's how you know these two..." He said, gesturing towards them. He could see them and what they were up to, at least I had my back to them.

"Must have seen you around." I thought out loud. Phil shrugged.

"Yeah, maybe a quiz night or something? We often used to do the one in the Griffin after training on a Wednesday."

"Umm." It was my turn to look quizzical. Then before the conversation could be probed any further Phil cleared his throat.

"I presume you two aren't going to pork each other in the kitchen whilst we're still here, and I'm going to sit down and enjoy my beer..." He trailed off and shot a mischievous smile in my direction, then gestured that I should join him, and behind me the snogging stopped. Moments later all four of us were sat around the table and conversation struck up between us. And that was that. A few drinks later, with work in the morning, we called it a night - an early morning to be precise - and we all headed upstairs.

...

Teeth brushed, hair brushed, I slipped beneath the duvet, wrapped up in the comforting aroma of freshly washed sheets. I wondered if Phil knew what was coming. With everyone's bathroom duties done, the house settled into silence. Momentarily. My bedroom was just down the hallway from Becky's. It shares an internal wall, Phil's was opposite.

In the silence there were a few murmurs from next door, a giggle from Becks, then the faint soft smack of kisses being exchanged. Here we go. It continued for a minute or two, before a short pause, then replaced with a soft, wet suck and slurp, mingled with the occasional groan or gasp. It wouldn't stop there. I knew from previous visits. To be honest, I love it, it's a real turn on for me. Weird, I know. So, when it ratchetted up another notch, and Becky's excitement was clearly audible along with the gentle but persistent squeak of bedsprings, I settled in and slid my hand down between my legs, listening to their rising excitement, whilst enjoying my own.

I relaxed into my own space, rubbing slowly, luxuriously in concentric circles, my heart rate quickening, my breath catching in my throat in short, quiet gasps. Heat spread through my body, from my toes, rising up through my body. I was still at the beginning of my journey towards my own climax, I knew the two next door would be a while yet. This was not something that needed to be rushed - just to be enjoyed, in a weird and kinky kind of way.

My hand felt constrained by my knickers, so I paused long enough to slide them down my thighs. Once they were over my knees I just wriggled and kicked them down until I managed to wrestle one foot out of them. I left them tangled around the other ankle. With the covers kicked off, I sat briefly and tugged my t-shirt off, tossing it onto the floor before laying back down, enjoying the feel of clean, cotton sheets against my nude body, my fingers instantly back between my legs; my touch bringing a gasp to my pursed lips.

The rhythm increases next door - as did my heart beat as I listen to Becky's increasingly urgent gasps of pleasure. High pitched versus Steve's breath - deep, harsh. Bedsprings complaining. The occasional bump of the headboard against the wall.

The increase in their pleasure brings an equal increase in my motions. The tips of my fingers, oily and wet, slip more frenetically over my sensitive skin. My eyes are scrunched shut. The pressure in the pit of my stomach twists and tangles. I find my clitoris. A gasp escapes my lips. I swap hands. I suck my fingers tasting myself. God, this is so good. I want more. I kneel on the mattress. Their sex is driving me wild. My right hand rubs at my distended lips. I suck my index finger until it's wet with my saliva. I rub it around my ring. Why does listening to them have sex make me feel like this? Just the very tip of my finger eases inside. I want to be dirty. It would be better still if I could watch them. The pressure builds inside me. All of my muscles seem to tense. A whimper escapes my lips. I clamp them shut.

A door clicks. Footsteps on the landing. I freeze guiltily. My mind briefly back into the present. I'm still like a statue. My heart hammers - both my pleasure and the sudden presence on the landing - an inexplicable worry of being caught like this - exposed, naked - as if anyone would pay attention to me with what was going on next door. The steps fade, obviously Phil, so I focused back in on myself - my busy fingers stirring the rising heat and lubrication inside me once again.

The muffled clatter of cupboard doors drifts up the stairs despite the noise from the bedroom next door. I tried to ignore it and concentrate on myself, but after a few moments, my concentration was shot. I can still hear them, but can no longer picture it.

Damn it.

I'd better go and see what it was that he was searching for. Then I'd come back and finish what I'd started - whether they were still at it or not.

I pulled my t-shirt back on and headed down to the kitchen. To my initial surprise I found Phil by the sink in just a pair of very tight, very white Calvin Klein boxer shorts - my eyes immediately drawn to the way they hugged his hips and shaped around his buttocks.

Oh. I say. Very nice.

He turned around at the gentle creak of the door; his features illuminated in the stark kitchen spotlights. My eyes stayed on his body, the tight fabric of his boxers clung to his hips. The view from the front was even better. I felt a smile curl at my lips. I may even have licked them. I wasn't paying much attention to me.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" He asked. "I just came down to grab a glass of water."

"But can't find the glasses?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I couldn't sleep either with those to at it like that." I smiled at him but suddenly felt a little self-conscious. I could smell my own excitement, on my fingers, wet and sticky between my legs. I felt like it was rising from my warm skin - an aura enveloping me. I wondered if Phil would smell it too.

Phil's gaze lingered, tracing the curve of my naked legs as they vanished beneath the hem of my t-shirt - which to be fair and on reflection, was disgracefully short - more so considering there was absolutely nothing beneath it.

Well, this is all rather odd.

Both of us stood in the kitchen, both of us wearing next to nothing. Just one piece of clothing each. The tension sparked suddenly, both of us watching the other - my level of sexual excitement already sky-high.

I didn't expect Phil to make a move on me, but as I stood in the kitchen - my body already aroused, my face flushed - my usual boundaries just seemed to dissolve. Was it just the alcohol, the carnal fact that Steve and Becky were still at it upstairs, or that I'd been well on the way to my own climax? Regardless of the reason, I had a strange desire to do something completely and utterly out of character and a warm glow gathered inside me, making my heart thump.

The few drinks I'd had swam lazily around my head, and seeing Phil stood in the kitchen in his boxers, his football-toned body on show for me to stare at had made my breath catch and beads of sweat break out down my spine.

I let my eyes wander all over his body. The dark hair across his chest; the shadow of a six-pack. I wondered what he'd do if I made a move on him. For that matter, I wondered if I approached him what I'd do, probably bail out before I'd instigated anything. Just get too close, panic and make a bit of tit of myself. But my mind seemed unusually focused on my own desire. If he'd stayed in bed, I'd have just finished pleasuring myself, then drifted off to sleep. But he was here, stood before me - his boxers so tight they looked almost sprayed on. I was very hungry...and very much wanted him inside me.

I dropped my gaze and ran my fingers through my long, chestnut brown hair and pushed it back across my shoulders. I made my decision. I walked towards him so that I too could get a glass of water and as I passed him, I deliberately brushed against him, feeling him rub up against me. In my heightened state of arousal, I was curious to see and touch it. As I'd let my eyes wander over his body, I couldn't help but notice the large outline in his boxers.

I reached up into the cupboard for a glass, my t-shirt riding up, giving him a generous flash of my pert buttocks, letting him know that it was all I was wearing. I turned around and to my delight he was still taking me in with his eyes. My heart thumped so hard I could feel its rhythm in my fingertips, each beat pulsating in my ears as the knot in my stomach tightened. I leant across and half-filled the glass with cold water. I sipped at it slowly. I looked at him looking at me. I let my tongue flick out and follow the moisture on my lips that the water had left behind.

I felt the tension rise in the silence. I wondered what was going through his head. He'd seen my buttocks when I stretched up for the glass. He knew I was naked. I wondered if he could smell the lust I'd already stirred up.

I was so worked up. The realisation hit me.

You can't fuck him. You don't even know him. You'll regret it tomorrow.

I pushed that voice back, tried to ignore it. I knew this wasn't me, but I couldn't believe how I felt. I just wanted to take something, purely for my own personal benefit. Sweat beaded on my forehead despite the cool air in the kitchen and the cold porcelain tiles against my bare feet, that sent a slight shiver up my legs.

It was now or never.

Yet in that moment, doubt flickered at the edge of my mind. I shouldn't want this, but I knew I was going to do it. I stepped back towards him and revelled in the look of shock on his face when I rubbed my fingers along the unmistakeable outline in his boxers. I leaned in, raised myself up onto the tips of my toes, my voice barely above a whisper, teasing, right against his ear.

"Listening to them fucking has made me really horny." I paused for breath that fleetingly caught in my throat. "Seems a shame that they should have all the fun."

I'd never had a one-night stand before, never even thought about it, so I have absolutely no idea what had come over me, other than a bit too much alcohol before bed and the frustration of unsatisfied lust that had me totally under its spell. I fiddled with the hem of my t-shirt, still focused on him. I was still pressed up close to him, I could smell his toothpaste, fresh and minty. "I was busy satisfying myself when you came downstairs." That brought the voice inside me stomping back to the fore.

What the hell? Satisfying yourself? Are you mad?

I pulled away from him, keen to see his reaction. I nibbled at my bottom lip. I hoped it was sexy. I definitely had his attention. His eyes then drilled into mine. Slowly, I pulled up my t-shirt a few inches and showed Phil that I was naked underneath. I took his hand and rubbed his fingers over my distended lips, shuffling my feet apart just enough. "See." I whispered, gasping slightly as I felt his fingers react. "Really, very horny." Then I pulled back from him ever so slightly, my eyes dropping to the growing bulge in his boxers.

Phil's hand stayed between my legs, our eyes locked together. I groaned. I was soaking wet. I shivered with anticipation of what was to come and grabbed his boxers and pulled them down over his thighs. They dropped to the floor, and he stepped out of them. I was not disappointed. He was very large and getting harder. I couldn't wait to get him inside me. I whipped my t-shirt off over my head, so I too was naked.

He stroked my pink petals between his thumb and forefinger before finding my clit and rubbing it until my legs felt weak. I held my breath; the world seemed to pause. Barely a word had been spoken. I didn't know him at all. But I knew I wanted him - here and now regardless. Did I wanthim? Actually, as that thought materialised, I didn't know the answer to that. I wanted sex. Now. I think it was more about me than anything else.

He kissed my lips - just once, softly, briefly - then bent and kissed my nipples in turn. They were already hard and alive. It couldn't have escaped his attention how they'd pressed against my t-shirt. I put my arms around his neck and gasped as he simply lifted me off my feet and pushed me against the kitchen wall - it was cold against my flushed skin. I gasped and arched my back.

"Come on then. Fuck me." I urged and wrapped my legs around his waist, opening up to welcome him inside me. As he sank me down, I grabbed him in my fist and guided him until he penetrated me slowly with his huge, hard erection, making me gasp in a filthy mixture of surprise and lust.

With his hands holding my buttocks he slid me up and down, I could see him disappearing inside me, increasingly coated in my own juice so it shone in the stark overhead spotlights. It was a delightfully naughty sight, that made my own pleasure begin to rise in me - wave after wave growing steadily.

"Fuck me harder" I panted and he upped his tempo, holding me in strong arms and thrusting inside me faster and even deeper. My orgasm took hold with little notice. It started as a flourish inside me, but as I took one hand from around his neck and stroked myself, it stampeded up on me, overwhelming me in an explosion of previously unexplored lust as I rubbed my lips. Suddenly, I was there. I came. Hard. A rare and delightful level of ecstasy. It took all my willpower not to scream the house down.

I unwrapped my legs from around his waist and he put me back down on the floor. I sank to my knees and kissed him before slowly wrapping my lips around him, slowly taking him as far as I could, and tasting myself. I heard him groan as I held as much of him in my mouth as I could manage, then as I drew back up his length, leaving a trail of glistening saliva. I wrapped my hand around him, stroking him slowly as I sucked, letting my tongue explore every ridge and vein. Phil's moans just served to fire my lust even higher, which blossomed inside me, making my pulse race and my face flush. I dropped my spare hand between my legs.

Phil held my head and pulled my hair, pushing me deeper down. As I ran my tongue over his sensitive helmet, I could taste him and licked it up hungrily. As he held my head, he began to rhythmically push his hips to meet me as I sunk down his shaft and I could sense his rising climax - but that was not how the night was going to end.