0 comments/ 41541 views/ 2 favorites Pretty In Pink By: velvetpie When the doorbell rang, I thought I was going to explode. I stamped on the power switch for the vacuum cleaner and strode to the door, flinging it open with enough force to bend the metal door stop. "What the hell do you want?" The woman standing on the doorstep just stared at me for a moment, blinking her perfectly mascara-ed eyes at me. "Hello, sir. I'm looking for the lady of the house." "She's not here." I barked. "She left for Acapulco two weeks ago and I haven't seen her since." "Oh. I see." She paused for a moment. "Well, my name's Aubrey Simmons and I sell … " "Yeah, I know what you sell. I've seen you guys in your pink Cadillacs, tooling around town." "Then you know that we make good products." "Lady, I don't give a fuck what you make. Now if you will excuse me, I have a house to clean." "Please, sir." The sadness in her voice made me pause. "I haven't sold anything today and I really need a sale. Can I make a bargain with you?" I looked her up and down for a moment. She was short, about 5' 2", probably weighed no more than 100 pounds soaking wet and had dark blue eyes that had me leaning closer to find where the color ended and the pupil began. "What kind of bargain are we talking about?" Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and she offered me a shaky smile. "I'll help you clean the house if you'll buy fifty dollars worth of products from me." "You'll help me clean if I buy products from you?" She opened the screen door and stepped in, setting her briefcase down. "If you have a clean pair of shorts and a shirt that I can change into, I'll get started." "You're serious?" Aubrey took off her pink suit jacket, putting her fisted hands on her hips, her slight Southern twang sliding off her tongue. "Try me." He found a shirt and a pair of shorts that belonged to Linda and Aubrey disappeared into the bathroom to change. When she came back out, her pink shirtdress and hose were hung over her arm, a pair of pink stilettos hanging on her fingers. She set them on the couch alongside her jacket and briefcase and went into the kitchen to start working. An hour passed, then two before I came downstairs, hauling a huge bag of garbage and was surprised to see Aubrey wearing a smile. "Wow, done with the kitchen already?" "Would you be willing to buy one hundred dollars of product from me?" "A hundred? A hundred??" "Come with me." Not only was the kitchen clean but the back room was spotless and he could hear the washer sloshing dirty clothes around. The big surprise was that she'd even managed to clean out the hot tub and the perfume of fresh lavender spread through the back patio's air. "Wow, you did a lot of extra work!" "It wasn't extra. I'm a good worker." Aubrey flashed a smile and peeled the sticky, sweat-heavy shirt off her tiny body, quickly following with the shorts. "I'm kinda hot and sticky. Want to join me?" For the first time in thirty-five years of life, I was speechless. I watched with a stiffening dick as she slid into the warm, frothy water, her thick, wavy hair trailing behind and sticking to her heated back. I guess I lost my mind for a minute and shed my clothes, stepping into the warm water. She gave me a smile and a giggle. "I'm ticklish." Aubrey swam over to me, those lovely large A-cups bobbing in the midst of the foam. "Are you?" "Why don't we find out?" I swept her into my arms and we started kissing, softly and deeply, then hard and violent as she slid down on my hard cock. I had only looked at her as a 'little girl' but she was anything but that. She started riding me like a horse, splashing water out of the tub while she tried to stick her tongue down my throat. It took me a few moments to finally respond but when I did, I lifted her out of the water, stumbled down the stairs and dropped to my knees on the freshly-mopped kitchen floor, laying her against the clean linoleum. She didn't say a word. She just held onto my shoulders as I maneuvered us into position to continue a good, hard fuck. I smiled at her as I started pounding into her, setting a pace that I was amazed to find her matching, thrust for thrust. Her tiny mouth made feed of my neck and face, taking tiny bites here and there that made me growl like a bear with an enemy on his back. My cock seemed to thicken inside her tight hole, liberally greased with her pussy cream and she rammed her little body on top of it like the world was going to end. I thought it was. I grabbed her hips and hammered into her, groaning as she thrashed in orgasm, taking me along with her. I pumped a load of cum into her pulsing snatch, loving every inch of her hot, liquid quim. I pulled out of her and sat on the floor, looking down at her. "You're a pretty good saleswoman." She sat up, a wicked grin on her elfin face. "Wait 'til we get to the make-up." Pretty In Pink Something was licking his leg. It felt like a Brillo pad: rough and scratchy. Trying to clear the fog from his thumping head, Luke blearily opened his eyes, fully expecting to see his brother's spare room complete with the FHM calendar girls 2002 smiling down at him. It came as something of a shock to realise that he was sprawled on a bench and his hands were shackled to the metal legs with some pink furry handcuffs. The large dog panting in his face stank of week old tuna. Its tongue lolled out as it regarded him with a faintly amused expression. Luke had no doubt that the dog was thinking much the same as he was, like how come he was chained to a bench and he had no... Oh fuck. I'm naked. Robbie, you bastard, you're going to die when I catch up with you! When the shock had receded somewhat, Luke looked around anxiously, hoping like hell he was not on Brighton Promenade surrounded by pensioners with weak hearts. He soon realised he was on a seafront somewhere, but fortunately for the National Health Service, Brighton it wasn't. Miles upon miles of sand stretched out towards the horizon. Somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of waves could be heard, but the tide was so far out, he couldn't actually see it. High above, gulls wheeled in a blue sky streaked with a pink blush. There appeared to be some buildings a fair distance away, but he couldn't spot any signs of life. It was impossible to tell what time it was as his watch was AWOL along with his clothes, but he guessed it was early. Probably a good thing, he mused. At least this way he wasn't going to frighten any small children. Luke pulled himself into an upright position and wondered what the hell he was going to do about his predicament. He tried yanking his hands to see if the cuffs broke, but they were stronger than they looked. Unless a kind stranger wielding a toolkit appeared, there was no chance he was going anywhere. When he gave up his inspection of the handcuffs, he realised the dog was still sitting nearby and he had a sudden thought. "Where's your owner?" he asked it hopefully. It had a red collar around its neck and Luke figured it was unlikely to be roaming around unsupervised even if this place did appear to be a location shoot for Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The dog looked at him dumbly and Luke sighed. "Oh great," he muttered. "I'm stuck on a bench in some godforsaken place with no clothes, cash, or phone, and I'm supposed to be getting married tomorrow!" "Woof!" The dog licked his leg and grinned in doggy sympathy. "Please tell me you really belong to some rich person with a private jet and a desire to help poor stranded young men?" Somehow Luke thought that would be unlikely. The way his luck was going, the dog would be a stray and he was on an island with a once weekly ferry service to the mainland—which had left yesterday. "Max!" Both Luke and the dog looked up in surprise. Far away in the distance, Luke could make out a figure heading his way. "Max?" he asked the dog hopefully. "Woof!" The dog agreed enthusiastically, its tail thumping the cracked concrete with great vigour. "Don't leave me now!" warned Luke as it suddenly occurred to him that the dog might do a runner and lope off before the owner arrived. The figure came nearer and Luke realised that it was a woman with long, curly blonde hair. He crossed his legs nervously and hoped that she wasn't the prudish type who ran away screaming at gratuitous male nudity. "Max, you're so dead!" The woman looked very pissed off as she approached the bench. Her dog shrank down and tried to hide behind Luke's legs. "Hi there, thanks for—" The woman's voice broke off abruptly when she realised that Luke was naked and chained to the bench. They both stared at each other, Luke embarrassed as hell and the woman trying not to smirk. He knew she was staring at him, her eyes drawn to his crotch that he was doing his best to hide by crossing his legs. At least she wasn't rolling on the floor in hysterics, he supposed. "Erm, I don't suppose you have something I can use to break these?" he asked eventually, looking first at the cuffs, then back at her. Shit, she's really pretty. He looked away quickly, now doubly aware that he was in a highly compromised state and that thinking anything but pure thoughts was not going to help his case. "Shall I call the police?" Luke heard the ripple of laughter in her voice and cursed his brother for putting him in this position. "May as well, I suppose. It can't get any worse." "Nah," she said. "No need for that, give me twenty minutes and I'll fetch my truck down here. I have some tools in the boot. They should be enough to break you free." "Thanks so much," Luke gushed with relief. "You wouldn't also be able to tell me where I am, too?" "Where did you start off your evening?" Luke had a sudden inkling he wasn't going to like her reply. "London—Clapham to be exact..." "Then you're a very long way from home—this is Northumberland. Holy Island to be exact..." "Holy crap," was his considered response. Holy Island was a bloody long way from London when he had no money or means of finding any. "I'll go and fetch my tools," his Good Samaritan suggested as he sat on the bench in a state of utter dejection. The handcuffs and lack of clothing seemed the least of his woes right now. * Catriona, or Cat as she apparently preferred to be called, passed Luke a mug of coffee as they both considered what his options were. "You have about two hours to leave the island before the tide comes in and closes the causeway," she told him. "Christ, Monique is going to kill me if I miss our wedding," he said, not really addressing Cat as he considered how volatile his fiancée was when things failed to go her way. "Ah," replied Cat sagely. "That explains a few things." She took a bite of toast and chewed thoughtfully. "I did wonder about the handcuffs and lack of clothing." Her voice trailed off and when Luke looked at her sharply he could have sworn she was trying not to laugh again. He frowned. "My brother, Robbie, has a very twisted sense of humour." And he's a dead man when I get hold of him. "Well, feel free to keep the vest and jogging pants," she added. This time there was a definite snort of stifled giggling which she attempted to disguise with a coughing fit. Luke glanced down at his borrowed Nike gear, and winced. Cat was a petite woman and he was a broad six-foot bloke. Clad in skin tight pink cotton, there was a very real chance he might attract the wrong kind of attention when he ventured out, but since the alternative had been a denim mini skirt, he had chosen the lesser of two evils in the style department. Hot pink was still better than being naked in front of Cat. She was way too attractive to make that an easy situation. A guy only had so much willpower when it came to suppressing his body's natural response to a pretty female. "Look, I'm really sorry about this," he apologised for the millionth time. "You must have loads of better things to be doing." "Don't worry about it, I needed the distraction anyway." From the fleeting expression of sadness that crossed her face, Luke sensed that maybe he wasn't the only one with problems, but he didn't like to pry. The poor girl had done enough for him without being subjected to an in depth inquisition into her private life. They both fell silent as Max sank down on tiled floor and closed his eyes. Luke took the opportunity to look around the room, trying to get a sense of who Cat was. There were several oil paintings on the wall, slightly abstract seascapes with a melancholy feel. "I like those," he commented. "Thanks—they're mine," Cat said. "You're an artist?" "Yes, I paint, plus I do some ceramics." "Wow, I'm impressed!" And he was. He had no artistic talent whatsoever and he deeply admired people who had. No only was Cat gorgeous, she was also talented. She was becoming more and more attractive as the seconds ticked by. He wasn't so sure that was a good thing so he drained his coffee, yanking his mind with some determination back to the current situation. Sitting here, flirting with Cat, was not going to aid him in the slightest. He needed to stop procrastinating and figure out how he was going to get home with no cash. He doubted that hitchhiking in his current outfit was going to be very successful—unless there were lots of gay truckers with a penchant for butch guys in skin-tight pink sports apparel. "I know it's a cheek, but do you think I could use your phone to make a telephone call?" He needed to get a grip. "Sure, it's in the hall, help yourself." Luke dialled Robbie's number, hoping like hell the bastard would pick up. He wanted an explanation for why his brother had done such a juvenile thing. But the answer service kicked in and after he'd listened to the message, he left one of his own. "Robbie, you total fucking twat, I hope you've got life insurance 'cause I'm going to kill you when I catch up with you." He slammed the receiver back down and hoped Cat hadn't been eavesdropping. It was bad enough that she thought he was an idiot, without adding 'psycho' to the list of bad character traits. * "We better leave now or the tide will be coming in," Cat said, picking up her keys from the table. Max bounded outside, wagging his tail at the prospect of going somewhere. He jumped into the back seat of the truck, panting doggy breath in Luke's face. "Just drop me off in the nearest town and I'll sort something out," Luke told her, hoping he sounded upbeat and positive. He still hadn't managed to address the issue of no money, but he was hoping that if he tried ringing his family, they might be able to send some cash. "Do you have friends up this neck of the woods?" she asked as they set off down the lane. "No, nobody." "Erm, then how are you going to get home with no transport and no money?" He turned to look at her. The amusement in her expression had vanished. She threw him a sympathetic look before negotiating the causeway. "I don't mean to be negative here, but without cash, you're screwed." Luke said nothing. She was right of course. He stood very little chance of getting home unless he hitchhiked. That could well be a lengthy process given his current attire and time was the one thing he was in short supply of. He looked ahead as they rumbled on. The sky was grey in the distance. Heavy clouds were rolling in over the horizon, bringing with them a promise of rain. The weather was turning out very like his mood; sombre and deeply depressed. "You're right," he agreed morosely. "I've been screwed." "Look," said Cat in a soft voice. "I've nothing important on for the next couple of days, how about I drive you home and you reimburse me for my diesel when we get there?" They reached the mainland and she pulled over on to a grassy verge, leaving the engine idling as she turned to face Luke. "Would you really do that?" he asked in surprise. She barely knew him and yet she was willing to put herself out for him. He was stunned. He certainly couldn't imagine many women being so generous. "To be honest, a break from here would do me good," she said before looking away. "It's the weekend and I have nothing urgent to be working on." Once more, Luke had the sense that something had happened to her, but before he could broach the subject, a large red car beeped as it drove towards them. He thought he heard Cat mutter, "Oh fuck," before she smiled brightly at the driver as he stopped alongside them and wound his window down. "Hey Babe, tried calling you last night, but I got no answer. I wanted to talk about, you know, stuff." There was a petulant, whiny tone in his voice. Cat's smile slipped sideways. "Look, Tony, did it not occur to you that maybe I didn't feel like talking either then, or indeed ever?" she retorted sarcastically. Luke couldn't help looking at the guy. His streaky blonde hair was styled in a way that suggested an awful lot of time had been spent achieving such a casual look, and his clothes were straight out of GQ magazine. The man was a walking-talking pin-up and Luke took an instant dislike to him. Tony decided to ignore her blatant rudeness. "Is that your new girlfriend?" He sniggered, glancing slyly at Luke. Luke saw that the guy had clocked his pink tracksuit trousers. He bristled angrily and forgot to engage his brain before retaliating. "I misplaced my clothes at some point last night," he smiled with a suggestive wink in Cat's direction. "You know how it is when you're ahem...distracted." Cat raised both eyebrows, but said nothing to enlighten her friend as to the true circumstances of Luke's unfortunate attire. "Oh I get it," Tony snarled, his face flushing red. "Well you didn't waste any time moving on!" "Well at least I waited until we were over before I got laid again!" Cat rammed the truck into gear and screeched away, her tyres spraying sand and grit all over Tony's shiny red car, leaving him sitting in a dust cloud. "That your ex?" Luke asked diplomatically when Cat slowed down enough to allow him to catch his breath. Max had slid into a horizontal position on the back seat, apparently asleep despite the hair-raising ride. "Yes." From the forbidding expression on Cat's face, he concluded the subject was off-limits, so he said nothing more as the coastline whipped by in a blur of salty sand dunes and white tipped surf. * The truck stop was relatively deserted. A few people sat in the large dining area shovelling down massive plates of cholesterol enhanced food, while others simply drank coffee and flicked through tabloids and top shelf magazines. A double page spread of a naked blonde with very perky tits caught Luke's eye as he walked past a particularly unsavoury trucker sitting at a table. The guy was practically salivating as he ogled his centrefold, although he did a quick double take when he spotted Luke in his pink gear. For a moment Luke thought the model strongly resembled Cat, but when his conscience reminded him that he ought not to be thinking such lewd thoughts about a woman other than his fiancée, he shoved the image from his head. "Eat up," Cat told him as he sat down at their table and eyed the plate of eggs and bacon. "We've got a very long way to go." "Thanks so much," he began to say again, but she shushed him immediately. "Forget it, I really don't mind," she told him before tucking into her food. "As I said, I'm happy to take a break from normal life. As long as you don't mind me stopping to walk Max at intervals, we'll be there in good time." She began to read a newspaper somebody had abandoned on the table, so Luke ate his food and allowed his mind to wander off on a tangent. It took almost three seconds before his gaze drifted away from the concrete wasteland beyond the large windows and lingered back on the generous swell of Cat's breasts beneath her pale blue tee shirt. His pink tracksuit trousers abruptly became uncomfortably tight. This was not good. Fantasising about Cat would seriously jeopardise his chances of making it home intact. The trouble was, she was incredibly sexy and, unfortunately, the complete opposite to the woman he was supposed to be marrying tomorrow. He forced himself to dredge up an appealing image of Monique in a vain attempt to defuse the sensation of arousal swamping him with lustful thoughts. Monique in the sexy nurse's outfit he had brought for Valentine's Day... No, that didn't work. She had refused to wear it for more than a few minutes, telling him it was degrading to women and she felt like a whore. That was the whole point, he had tried in vain to explain, but his pleas fell on deaf ears and he had been thrown out along with the nurse's outfit. Monique in her bikini? No, once again, he was left feeling slightly out of sorts. Monique hated wearing bikinis. Even when they went to Spain she had chosen to wear a black all-in-one swimsuit prudish enough for the average Nun to consider wearing. He supposed it was a result of her strict Catholic upbringing—she had many issues about her body and sexuality, none of which included a particularly open-minded outlook on sex and nudity. He sometimes wondered why they were getting married, let alone in a relationship together. In the beginning, he had been attracted to her sweet, innocent qualities. Now he was just bored. But, the marriage train had overtaken him and if he jumped off now, he was likely to be decapitated by the futures. It wasn't an appealing prospect. It wasn't as if he didn't love Monique, he decided as he tried staring at a plastic plant rather than Cat's boobs—it was just that he wasn't in love with her. He sighed dramatically and spiked another forkful of egg. It was no use. He had to go through with the wedding, come hell or high water. There was no way he was going to break Monique's heart. He couldn't do it to her. * "What time's the wedding then?" Cat asked after as they hit the motorway again. "Eleven." There was a distinct lack of jollity in his voice and Cat noticed. She glanced sideways at him. "Shouldn't you be more excited about the prospect?" Although he thought she had a point there, he replied with fake enthusiasm, "I can't wait." He decided that denial was a wonderful state of mind; it sure beat throwing himself off a cliff. "So, what's your fiancée like?" Billy Idol came on the radio singing one of his classics. "It's a nice day for a white wedding," sang Cat loudly when Luke failed to answer her question. "Why are you interested?" he said when the words began to grate on him. "Dunno—I'm just nosey I suppose. Besides, you must be mad about her if you're so desperate to rush back in time to get hitched." Luke wasn't sure 'desperate' was the word he would have used, but he felt he ought to say something. "Yeah, that's it, I'm totally mad," he muttered gloomily. She shut up then and concentrated on the road while he turned away to stare out of the window morosely. He felt bad about being so snotty with her. After all, she was doing him an enormous favour by driving him all the way back home. He just didn't like the way she had homed in on the one thing he was uncomfortable talking about. Jesus. Why couldn't he have picked a girl who wanted to discuss Arsenal's form this season? He'd have happily waffled on about that for hours! Did she not understand he was a bloke and, as such, genetically incapable of discussing his feelings? Women! * "Wake up!" Luke stirred. He opened his eyes carefully, feeling out of sorts once again, aware that it was dusk and the flat grey fields had changed into dirty streets and brightly lit retail parks. "Where are we?" he asked, rubbing his eyes to clear the sticky residue of sleep. "M25. You're gonna have to give me some directions or we'll be stuck on the road to hell for infinity." Given the programme of events lined up for tomorrow, Luke had a feeling that it wasn't such a bad idea. But he pushed that thought to one side and told Cat which junction she needed. In no time at all, they drove down Luke's street and found a space near his flat. His windows were dark so at least Monique wasn't holding a candlelit vigil waiting for him to return home. Hopefully she had no idea he had even been north of Watford. She had only texted him once and he had sent a quick reply to say he was seriously hung-over, but he would see her at their wedding. Fortunately, she hadn't pursued a conversation, for which he was grateful. He would have had a hard job explaining the sound of surf in the background. Cat turned the engine off and yawned heavily. "Well we're here, so you better go and get ready, or whatever." Pretty In Pink Luke hesitated. For one thing he needed to reimburse Cat for her fuel, but he suddenly realised that he had grown used to her company over the last few hours. She was very easy to be with. She also looked damned hot in her tight tee shirt, but that wasn't something he was thinking about. "You must be shattered after driving all this way—come on in and have a cup of tea at least?" "Ok, if you're sure. I could do with stretching my legs." She smiled sideways at him before succumbing to another yawn. Luke climbed out of the truck, hoping that none of his neighbours were around. It wouldn't look good to be seen wearing pink. Max trotted along to the nearest tree and peed for a while, an expression of doggy bliss on his hairy face. Then he bounded back to Cat and they all entered the flat. "Take a seat while I change, then I'll make us a drink and some food if you're hungry?" "Tea, please," she said in a tired voice before flopping down on his sofa. Max dropped down at her feet and rested his nose on his paws. He seemed quite content. Luke quickly changed into something more manly before dropping his borrowed clothes in a plastic bag. He took the bag and placed it by the front door before heading into the kitchen and busying himself making drinks and some sandwiches. After being asleep for a while in the truck, he felt much revived. The headache that had lingered on from the previous night had gone. Unfortunately, the attraction he felt for Cat had not. By the time he wandered back into the living room with two mugs of tea, Cat was fast asleep. She was curled up like a cat, her legs tucked up and her head resting on her arm. She looked adorable. Tiny tendrils of hair clung to her cheek as she breathed softly and unable to stop himself, Luke reached out and gently brushed them aside. Her cheek felt like velvet. She murmured a little when his fingers touched her, but she didn't wake up. He placed her tea on the table and sat down wondering how long he ought to let her snooze. She was obviously shattered after the long drive, but he wasn't sure if she needed to be home tonight. So he sipped his own tea and watched her sleep. * Something licked his hand and he woke with a start. Shit. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. When he opened his eyes, he realised how late it was: the room was semi dark with only the street lamp outside for illumination. Max was staring at him reproachfully, presumably trying to get the message across that he needed to relieve himself again. So Luke dragged himself up and padded out to the kitchen to let Max into the garden for a pee. The dog dashed outside and disappeared into the darkness while Luke hovered in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?" Luke turned to see Cat, her hair all mussed up and her cheek bearing the creases of his sofa. She looked adorable and he fought a sudden impulse to take her in his arms. "Late," he said. "Too late for you to drive back now." "But I can't stay—you're supposed to be getting married in the morning," she reminded him. He didn't need a reminder. The knowledge was eating away at him like a cancerous growth. "No argument, you're not going anywhere." "Do you have a spare room?" "No, but I can crash on the sofa while you sleep in my bed." Luke read her mind. "The sheets are clean—honest!" Max trotted back in and Luke locked the door. Now that he knew Cat was staying, he felt a lot happier. The thought of spending a few more hours with her seemed to lessen the sensation he had of hurtling towards a fate worse than death. It was hardly a great analogy for his impending nuptials, but it seemed to be increasingly apt. "Looks like the sofa has been double-booked," he commented when they walked into the living room and saw Max stretched out like Lord Muck. "Max!" Cat exclaimed in horror. "Bad dog!" Max's tongue lolled out of his mouth as he grinned at them both. He wagged his tail a couple of times then closed his eyes. Luke laughed. "Did he bunk off during obedience classes?" "God, I'm so sorry!" Cat looked mortified. "Look, I'll show you where everything is then I'll shove him off." Luke walked Cat to the bathroom and quickly made sure the bedroom was tidy before she reappeared. He noticed she had pulled her hair back into a neat plait when she came back in. It took his breath away and for a moment he was lost for words. How on earth had he ended up in his bedroom with another woman—on the eve of his wedding? Robbie had an awful lot to answer for. It was unfortunate his brother had, so far, refused to answer Luke's text messages and calls. Luke still couldn't figure out how he had ended up so far away when his last recollection was drinking cocktails in some dodgy club. But that was the least of his worries at the moment. The more pressing problem he was facing was his non-platonic desire to bed Cat. "I'll just grab a blanket and leave you to it," he said hurriedly, already picturing Cat's naked body sprawled over his bed. Would his bed ever be the same again? She regarded him while rubbing her eyes blearily. "I'd feel bad leaving you with Max all night—he snores and makes a terrible bed partner," she said. "I know this because he has a tendency to sneak into my bedroom whenever there's a storm. He's petrified of thunder," she explained. "Oh I'll be fine," Luke lied. "No, really, I'm sure we can behave like adults and share your bed for a few hours." She yawned heavily. "You're getting married in the morning, so it's not like anything is going to happen!" How trusting she is, Luke thought with black amusement. If she could read his mind, she would be half way down the street by now! "Well, uhm, if you're sure? I really don't mind sleeping on the couch?" "No, don't be silly." She dismissed his weak protest and turned away to remove her jeans. Luke caught a brief glimpse of pink cotton shorts before she climbed beneath his duvet and turned her back on him. It was left to him to switch off the light and join her in the darkness. Lying in his bed with Cat stretched out beside him, Luke knew it was going to be a very long night. From the living room he heard Max snoring and he supposed that he was at least spared that particular torment. * Cat rolled on to her back and Luke wondered if she was awake. He shifted, being careful not to touch her for fear of provoking an unwanted bodily reaction. "You awake?" asked a soft voice. "Yep," he confirmed. "Your dog can snore for England." "I know, he's a pain, sorry." "Don't worry about it—I'd have been awake anyway." He was far too aware of Cat in the bed beside him to sleep. The sweet scent of her perfume was tormenting him beyond reason; that and the knowledge she was within touching distance, yet so far out of reach in every other way. "Too excited about tomorrow?" "Not exactly," he hedged. If he stared hard enough, he could see the morning suit hanging up in his wardrobe, ready for him to wear tomorrow. It only served to bring on another wave of panic. "I was supposed to be getting married next month," Cat admitted in a voice so faint he thought he'd imagined it. "Really? What happened?" Ten out of ten for diplomacy, Luke. "I found out he'd been messing around with another woman, so I ended it." "I'm sorry," he told her. It did occur to him that he was no so innocent in that regard, but he decided not to think too closely about that Luke couldn't see her face, but there was no mistaking her pain. Remembering the arsehole in the red car, Luke had no problem believing that he was capable of behaving in such a manner. The guy had had "bastard" tattooed on his head. "I was sorry, too," she replied. "When he told me he loved me, I believed him. I thought we were meant to be together. Too many times my friends tried to warn me about how badly he was treating me, how he was using me, but I ignored them. I loved him and that was all that mattered. What we had was special—or so I thought." She laughed bitterly. "How stupid was I?" "He was the stupid one for losing you." Before he could analyse his motives, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. Her cheeks were wet and he realised she was crying. Her body curved against his perfectly, it was like they were meant to be. As he stroked her hair, he knew he was in terrible danger of crossing the invisible line. The right thing to do at this point would be to gently extricate himself, crawl away, and curl up on the sofa with Max for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, he lacked the willpower to move a muscle. He kind of hoped that she might protest at his proximity, but instead, she stayed in his arms. Then she spoke. "You never answered my question earlier about what your fiancée was like?" Luke closed his eyes and tried to picture the woman he was marrying tomorrow. It wasn't easy when Cat was lying in his arms, her soft breasts pressing against him enticingly. "She's dark, slim, very serious most of the time, kind of not like you really." She shifted slightly and he caught another whiff of her perfume. It was heavenly. "Do you love her?" Jesus. She didn't pull any punches. "I...I...don't know." "Then why are you marrying her tomorrow?" If he were a boxer, he'd have just been knocked out. He could certainly feel the air leave his body in a whoosh. "I guess I don't want to hurt her and let her down." "If you don't love her, at least give her a chance to find someone who can love her!" The truth in her voice cut him like a razor. She was right. They both knew it. He was weak, a pathetic excuse for a man. He should have ended it with Monique months ago, but instead he had allowed this circus to gather pace until his best intentions had been trampled in a stampede of wedding preparations. He turned towards her, fully intending to tell her she was right. How their lips found each other in the dark was a mystery. It wasn't just lust, he felt certain of that. It was something more. Something he hadn't felt for a long time. The kiss deepened until he was throbbing with need. He knew Cat would feel him, hard against her, but he was powerless to pull away. When he felt her hands tentatively stroking his chest, he groaned into her mouth and grabbed her bottom. The duvet was kicked down the bed as the heat rose several degrees. Pushing Cat on to her back, he relinquished her mouth and kissed her neck, tasting the residue of salty tears. Her braless breasts heaved against her tee shirt, tempting him, begging to be worshipped. He wanted to see her, naked and glorious. She didn't murmur a protest when he gently lifted the pale blue cotton, exposing her delicious tits to his avid gaze. There was just enough light from the window for him to see the way her hard nipples responded to his touch as her back arched with pleasure. When his tongue bathed each taut tip with warm saliva, she moaned softly and gripped his arm urgently. Her small hand reached down and found his cock, rock hard with need. It was his turn to moan when she rubbed against him, teasing him with her cotton-clad sex. She was soaking wet when he slid his fingers inside her knickers; hot and ready for him. Just the thought of being inside her made him groan against her breast. His tongue skated across her smooth belly until he was lying at the apex of her thighs. He wanted to taste her, to know everything about her, to feel her come on his tongue as her trembling thighs gripped him. She was so sweet. Spreading her wide open, he teased her, delighting in the way she bucked against his mouth as his tongue caressed the hard nub of her clitoris. When she came, her felt the spasms erupt through her. Needing to feel her around him, he slid back up the bed and entered her, gasping at the heat of her pulsating body. Her body arched into his, meeting him at every thrust, her head thrown back against the pillows, moist lips parted as she watched him through thick lashes. He couldn't last any longer. The need for release was beyond his control now. He gripped her breast, feeling her nipple hard against his palm as he came with a growl, lost in his moment of exquisite pleasure. As it slowly faded, he rolled on to his back, pulling her with him, and closed his eyes. The reality of what he'd just done hovered in the dark recesses of his mind, but for now he didn't want to examine it. He needed to tell Cat how he felt, but his body refused to obey. Sleep overran his best intentions and he slipped into darkness helplessly. * Luke was sure the smoke alarm had gone off when he reluctantly opened his eyes to find the sun hitting him squarely in the face. It took a few moments to comprehend it was the telephone, not the smoke alarm. Ignoring the insistent ringing, he looked for Cat, but she was nowhere to be seen. His bed was cold and empty and all traces of her had gone. The trouble was, he could still taste her and if he closed his eyes, he could picture the way she felt when she came. "What," he muttered when he finally lifted the receiver. "You made it back then," Robbie said. "No thanks to you, you fucker," Luke snarled. He removed the phone from his ear and tried to organise his thoughts. He knew now that there was no way he could go through with this farce. It wasn't fair on Monique and it sure as hell wasn't fair on him. It wasn't going to be easy, but he had to do the right thing before it was too late. "Robbie," he began hesitantly, unsure of how his elder brother was going to react. "I can't do this." There was a pause. "Do what?" "Marry Monique. We're not right for each other." "Thank fuck for that." Luke heard the long exhale down the phone line and he was stunned. "You don't think I'm making a terrible mistake by cancelling this wedding?" "No, of course I don't! Why do you think I went to so much trouble to get you away from here? I figured if that didn't focus your mind, nothing was going to! I had to bung Trevor a whole load of cash to take you with him to Berwick, although it was his idea to drop you on Holy Island." He laughed. "Inspired really." Luke was beginning to feel angry again. "Why didn't you just bloody tell me how you felt?" "Mate, I'm a bloke, I don't do the whole emotional bit. Actions speak louder than words any day of the week." Well at least Robbie is on my side. Luke wasn't too convinced that Monique would be quite so forgiving. * "Luke, it's me," she said when she took the call. He felt sick to the stomach as her sweet voice echoed down the phone line. It was weird. She was only a short distance away, yet it felt like she was on another continent from the way the line crackled. "Mon, there's something we need to talk about—" She cut him off before he could spit the fatal words out. "I can't marry you," his fiancée blurted out unexpectedly. "What?" he coughed. Was he dreaming? "I can't do it, I've tried for ages to talk to you, but it never seemed like the right time and everything snowballed and—" She broke off and he heard her sobbing. "Mon, don't cry, it's ok, I understand—honestly." "You do?" "Yes, I feel the same way. I love you dearly, but we're not right for each other." "Oh Luke, I love you too, but I've realised that I'm not in love with you." She sniffled. "I'm so sorry." "I'm sorry too. It seems like we're both at fault here." Luke felt like a mountain had been lifted from his shoulders. The relief was acute. All that remained was to ring round and let everybody know the wedding was no longer taking place. As far as he was concerned, that was the best man's job. Robbie deserved some punishment for spiking his drink and arranging to have him chained naked to a bench. * The salty air whipped his hair as he stared across the bay. The beach was desolate. He felt like the only inhabitant on the island; a sole survivor of some cataclysmic disaster. At least he was at peace with himself now. Whatever happened from this point onwards, he knew he had made the right decision. A large dog appeared on the shoreline, galloping exuberantly in the surf. Luke watched as it came nearer, chasing the sea gulls in manic circles as they wheeled and swooped across the sandy undulations. He was so busy watching the dog that he failed to notice its owner appear beside him. "Good to see you're not naked this time," Cat remarked as she sat beside him, facing out to sea. "Why? Don't you like me naked?" he asked in mock horror. "Well I suppose it was an improvement on the pink sportswear," she replied with a faint smile. "Speaking of which..." He picked up the carrier bag and passed it to her. "You could have posted it," she said. "Anyway, aren't you supposed to be on your honeymoon about now?" "I would have been if I'd gone ahead with the wedding. But I didn't." She said nothing and Luke began to wonder if he had imagined the connection between them. Had it been all one-sided? Had he completely misjudged everything? "Why are you telling me?" She turned to face him and he knew it was now or never. So he kissed her because he was a bloke and actions spoke louder than words. "I think we have something here," he told her when they broke for air. "Well Max seems to like you," Cat agreed. "As long as he stays in his own bed, we'll get along just fine." "Hey, he's not the only one who snores!" Cat teased. Luke shook his head. "No way, I don't snore." She looked at him with all trace of amusement gone. "I'm afraid," she said in a small voice. "The last person I trusted hurt me and I can't go through that again." "I'm not like other men," Luke whispered before he kissed her again. "I wear pink and I'm proud of it." * Luke woke the following morning, surprised to hear the sound of the surf through the open window. He reached out expecting to find Cat still beside him, but the bed was empty. The smell of fresh coffee drifted from the kitchen, fragrant and delicious. When he padded into the kitchen, naked, Cat was stood with her back to him, pouring some milk in two mugs. Her long blonde hair curled down her back, almost reaching the curve of her bottom. Max thumped his tail as Luke slipped his arms around Cat's waist. "Morning, sexy," he whispered in her ear before kissing her neck hungrily. She leaned back against him, dropping the spoon on the worktop. "Did you sleep well?" she asked, pulling him closer. "Like a log," he replied. He reached up and cupped her naked breasts, gently rubbing the hard tips of her nipples. The warm, feminine scent of her teased him, driving him mad with its potency. "Must be the sea air." Cat pushed her bottom against his hard erection and tilted her head back with a soft sigh of pleasure. "That and the fact you wore me out." She laughed. "You don't feel very worn out at the moment!" "No, I'm fully recovered now and more than ready to explore the local attractions." "Well we better get dressed then," she said, making no effort to move. Luke reached down and burrowed between her thighs. She was achingly wet, slippery and deliciously hot. "No need, I'm already there," he growled as he pushed inside her. They moved together effortlessly, the spark that danced between them exploding into fragments of light that blew them both away. When the intense pleasure faded, Luke held her tightly and thought about where all this was going. His life down in London seemed light years away at that moment. Not that he felt he had much to rush back for. His job in IT meant he could pretty much work anywhere where he had an Internet connection and apart from some lease remaining on his flat, there was nothing keeping him there. * "How long are you staying?" Cat asked in a quiet voice as they sprawled back on her bed, entwined. He felt the slight tension in her body and he knew there was a whole lot behind the seemingly innocuous question. From everything she had told him about her ex, Tony, he knew she was wary of being hurt again. Pretty In Pink "As long as you want me?" he replied. She relaxed and smiled. "I'll tell Max," she said. "He'll be delighted." Almost as if he understood her words, Max bounded into the room and leaped on to the bed. They both yelled at him, but he seemed unrepentant as he barked with excitement, his tail wagging furiously. "And what about you?" asked Luke when Max had finally settled back down again, lying heavily across Luke's foot like a dead weight as he grinned doggy fashion at them both. "I guess I can put up with you for now," she teased. That was good enough for Luke. Cat was the best thing to have happened to him in a long time and he had no intentions of fucking this up. The idea of marriage suddenly seemed far more appealing than it had a few days previously. But that was something they could discuss another time. Right now he had more important things on his mind. Like doggy obedience classes... * Pretty in Pink I know. I am a VERY bad girl for making you all wait so long for something new. I hope it's worth it. For this indulgent, naughty piece of work, I went back to what really turns me on. Being a sexy, submissive piece of ass ;) There's a new element in this audio. A treat I have longed to experience in my quest to "belong" to my lover. One that illustrates his control over me and my pleasure. As always, I appreciate all the feedback and words of encouragement as well as the requests in recent weeks to publish a new audio. I love all the comments public and private. And for those who take the time to vote. Enjoy! L. * * * * * Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (30 min/mp3) * * * * * Pretty in Pink I'm lying on the rug on the lounge room floor, reading my book. The thick, red pile is soft and supportive, like a folded up blanket – so comfortable. You walk in after your Breast Cancer function and stand at the top of the steps, smiling down at me. As usual, you take my breath away without even trying – for the moment that you're standing there, I take in your amazing legs and body, perfectly filling out that pink dress, showing your curves off to the world but still remaining graceful and demure. The dress is perfect for you and your face is glowing with happiness from a great night out. I'm so distracted that I momentarily forget that I'm wearing only my orange undies – a fact that does not escape your attention. You softly bite your lip and smile that smile, then say "could there be any better thing to come home to than you lying there ready for me like that?" "Ready for you?" I smile back, putting my book down. "Ready for me", you reply, walking down the steps toward me. "I've been thinking about you all evening and waiting for this. I thought I'd have to wake you though." "To wake me would require me being asleep and I can't sleep, knowing I'll miss you coming home. Anyway, you're drunk. Have fun?" "Lots", you smile. "How can I kiss you hello though, when you're lying on your belly? You need to roll over." I start to oblige, but then ask if you'd like me to stand up, because that'd be a whole lot easier for you. "No, no I want you right there", you purr, and straddling my chest, taking my hands and holding them wide, bending down to kiss me. You kiss me once, firmly but lovingly, the tip of your tongue dancing over my lips. Even so, that minor contact was enough to knock my socks off. I had my usual moment of "Bloody hell, I am SO punching above my weight here", before you start to shuffle forward. Thinking you were getting comfortable, I raise myself onto my elbows, but you plant a hand on my chest and push me back down. "No, I said I wanted you right there." You raise yourself up onto your knees and shuffle forward until your dress is resting on my face. You stop and giggle tipsily at me, as only my eyes are visible, staring up at you quizzically. "You've been waiting for this?" I ask. You catch yourself, pull a serious face and say "No no, this", then move forward further. In the dim light beneath your dress, I can feel your perfect thighs on either side of my face and see your luscious pussy lips right in front of my eyes. The sight of your naked sex was so unbelievably intoxicating and I instinctively flicked my tongue toward you but was a tiny bit short. You must have realised, as you kneeled right up, took a "step" toward my face and lowered yourself into me. I was in absolute heaven. I slid my hands up around the lightly tanned thighs that flanked my face and held you right against my face, although it didn't seem as though you were likely to budge anytime soon. I wasn't able to linger or tease you at all, as your lips were planted directly on top of mine. Disappointed only for an instant, I instead thought of how lucky I was and started doing what you were growling at me to do. I slipped my tongue inside your already wet lips and gently probed for a few moments, finding the ticklish and GOOD spots. In and out, poking around, I explored and sensed from your reaction what was working for you. All the while, I could feel myself growing harder behind you, already aching to be released from my slinky orange prison. The smell and taste of you was out of this world. For a moment, I lost control of myself and lifted my head to push my tongue inside as far as I could, to lap up your muskiness. Quickly though, I remembered myself and knew that the best way to help you enjoy yourself was to drag things out. I pressed the tip of my tongue against the part you were aching to be touched and alternatively drew little circles over it, and flicked my tongue back and forth over it. I heard your moans, muffled by your thighs against my ears, but still loud enough to turn me on further. After a minute, I made an "o" shape with my lips and gently sucked your tiny, swollen pink clit, sucking it right into my mouth and caressing it up and down with my tongue. You arched your back and started thrusting against my face in time with my rhythm. I suck and tongue with more urgency, loving the sensation of you fucking my face. Worried I might end up making you sore, I regretfully moved myself away from your clit and consoled myself with playing with and teasing your swollen, fuzzy lips, slipping my tongue inside and running it up and down, sucking one lip in between my tongue and teeth and every so gently gnawing on you. I alternated between each side, unable to get enough of the taste of you, loving the feeling of your pink flesh under my tongue. While I was concentrating on this, my hands were all over your legs and bum, fondling, exploring, loving the sensation of your curves, feeling your muscles flex as you thrust, loving the sound of you moaning and screaming my name. My right hand reaches up and over the top of your leg, trailing down your mound until I just reach the cleft at the top of your pussy. You feel my fingers start to rub small, but very firm circles over your clit. I can feel it, hard beneath its soft cover, moving but resisting against my finger tip. You sit immobile, bolt upright and groan, so I take the opportunity to drive you over the edge and thrust my tongue deep inside you, thrusting in and out like a small but insistent cock, fucking you as I rubbed your clit. You backed away slightly to give me more room and opened your legs wide, then lifted your dress up around your waist. I looked up at your flushed face and pushed as much of my face into you as I could, filling you, still with my tongue darting and pushing, my finger probing and running. You stroked the top of my head and tangled your fingers in my hair, looking down into my eyes. You thrusted harder and harder, fucking my face and hand and gave yourself over to what was happening. Your eyes closed, your hair hung down over your face as you clamped your thighs against my face, wave after wave of orgasm pulsing from your toes to your nose. After what seemed to be hours, you rolled off me and lay down next to me. I rolled onto my side and kissed you gently, running my hand around your waist. "I hope I didn't disappoint you – I'd hate to think you waited for nothing." You smiled, still gasping. "Honey, it was SO worth the wait. Thank you." You kissed me again. "But that wasn't the only one thing I was waiting for..."