Easy like Saturday Morning Ch. 02

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I looked at my phone as it started buzzing at 17.59hrs, the ringtone was on loud as well: “Remember this aria?” Says Jennifer Beale’s character, the faint strains of opera in the background.

“Oh,” says Leisha Hailey’s character thoughtfully, “You mean our third date? When you finger fucked me at the Opera? Before telling me you didn’t think we were right for each other? And then there was this straight girl you might fall in love with? No, I don’t remember a thing!”

I picked up the phone and hit ACCEPT with a grin. I love my ringtone so much I can still let it play through even if I am next to the phone and really want to talk to the person calling.

“Hi Katie!” I greeted her warmly, still grinning.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Not at all! How was the Christening?” I enquired politely.

“Usual affair of tears, vomit, screaming and so on. The sprog was rather cute but I had to check my notes to remember her name!”

I chuckled and wondered if this was a good time to have The Talk, and cover issues of contraception and children. As usual Katie seemed to read my mind and beat me to it:

“That reminds me!” She began in a very grand drawling voice, “If you got me pregnant today I would be truly up a creek without a paddle. Do you have any thoughts about that?”

“You climbed on me, I only wanted to perform oral on you. I can sell you a paddle, then we’re evens.” I joked.

“Funny!” She growled, “But seriously? What are your thoughts on contraception?”

We went into a long discussion about our moral standings and our feelings. Our feelings about each other as well as our feelings about what we like and don’t like sexually. Neither of us wanted kids, but neither of us liked messing around with condoms or popping pills or getting injections… I suggested she use the morning after pill as a one-off and we stick to oral sex until the wedding, then discuss our options later on.

“That’s unrealistic.” She insisted.

“Why?” I said carefully, totally unsure what she meant by this.

“I have fallen in love with your cock!” She announced.

I almost dropped the phone. “Wow!” was all I could manage.

She giggled like a school girl. “Aren’t we naughty?”

“Does the bad girl need a spanking?” I teased.

“Never tried it, but we can get a list of things to do for the wedding night…make it special? That’s assuming we make it down the aisle together?”

“I was kidding. But I am glad you are open minded about exploring stuff together. I reckon I have found a best friend at the very least so no matter what happens in the getting-to-know-you process I reckon we have a solid foundation.”

“I’m glad you feel that way too… so anyway, what’s for dinner?”

“Oh…” I checked the time. We had been talking for almost an hour. I had not booked a restaurant or anything. “I can afford maybe a Chinese down the road, or I can come to your place and cook for you?”

“Okay! What are you cooking for me?”

“What do you like?”

“What’s your specialty?” She shot back.

“Tuna and fusilli pasta with peanut butter, corriander, tarragon, ginger and a dash of mayo and ketchup.”

“Wow!” she breathed, “That sounds amazing! Bring the tarragon and the tuna, I have everything else here!”

I raced to the nearest Spar and then ran over to her place.

It occurred to me that we would probably say Grace before eating, and would that seem hypocritical? I mean, you fuck a Minister of Religion who has been celibate for ten years, is it then rude to thank God for the food you are eating? Or is that still a nice thing to do? I kept my worries to myself and enjoyed the ego trip of having bagged a hot lesbian’s virginity and then having the chance of a romantic evening together as well the same day.

I knocked on the front door.

A text message made my pocket buzz. I pulled the phone out and opened the SMS. It said “Round the back!” So I walked around to the kitchen door and let myself in as casually as possible.

“Howdi neighbour” she chirped in a jokey yokel accent.

“Now then!” I responded adopting the same accent.

She grinned. “SO, Chef? What are we doing?”

“We are boiling some water and chopping some spring onion first”

“Don’t have any spring onions” she shot back.

I opened my mouth to ask why she said escort izmir she had everything else and then realised I had forgotten to list that in my specialty dish on the phone, so I merely said, “OK, that part is optional, but we need to get the tarragon, ginger and water boiling, then add the pasta, then the salt later.”

Katie showed me where everything was and then sat at the breakfast bar and told me to get on with it.

I proceeded to frantically prepare everything, sieving the tuna, talking her through every step of my recipe, explaining all the whys and whats… then we started talking about our families, our backgrounds, our upbringings. Her dad had been a great cook, so for her this was a reassuringly familiar thing to watch a man at work over a hot stove.

I asked her what happened to him. She told me he died of AIDS caught from his gay lover, after a long battle with HIV that ended two years ago. I almost dropped the bowl I was holding.

“I’m kidding! Mum and Dad live in Kent and are very happy together!” She guffawed.

I shot her a curious glance and went for the obvious question: “Why do you refer to him in the past tense?”

“They disowned me when I came out to them fifteen years ago after years of subtle hints that they wanted me to find a nice boy to settle down with. By being with you I have an opportunity to repair my relationship with my family. So – I guess – one door closes and another door opens. I may have to leave the Church but I can get a teaching job and get to make peace with Mum and Dad before they pop their clogs.”

I put down what I was doing and stepped over to her and kissed her passionately. This was no spontaneous fling, she had really thought things through. Had I seduced her or had she allowed herself to be seduced? More the latter I supposed.

“Make love to me.” She breathed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

I was not really in the mood but figured this was a direct order from the woman I had agreed to marry. The Bible teaches a man cannot deny his wife Sex and a wife cannot deny her husband Sex, but most people skip that part. I reasoned in my mind I had better do as I was told, for fear of eternal damnation.

I reached under her T shirt, as usual she was wearing a sports bra that I had no idea how to unhook from my position. I moved around the back to kiss her neck and shoulders before helping her remove her T shirt.

I gently unclasped her bra and kissed the top of her spine, then reached around to cup her breasts in my hands whilst continuing to plant soft kisses over her neck and shoulders and back.


I spun her round on the breakfast bar stool with her back to the Ikea table top and stood in front of her. I judged the height and ripped my shirt off, bunching it together with her T shirt to make a pillow, then placing it behind her for her shoulders to lean back against. I tugged her jeans off with her help and threw her legs over my shoulders.

I was finally aroused enough to unzip myself but felt I needed more foreplay. Ironic how with women I am the one needing more foreplay whilst they are usually ready to go.

I offered to use my fingers to which she replied, “I am not marrying you for your finger-fucking skills, good as they are, I want your manly heterosexual cock inside me!”

With that kind of desperation in her voice I obeyed and tugged her knickers as far as her thighs and slid inside her.

“OH! Hold it in there! Need to take my knickers off!” She almost yelled. She stretched her legs up above both our heads and we slid her underwear all the way up her impressively long and shapely limbs. She still had her white socks on as she rested her legs back over my shoulders and settled into position.

“Fuck me now! Hard and fast!” She bellowed.

I obeyed, grabbing the worktop behind her to bear some of my weight and ramming my throbbing meat deep into her love tunnel.

She was determined to be the noisiest fuck in history and I was in no mood to steal her crown. I used a variety of thrusting techniques whilst mostly leaning forward on tip toes, my hips slamming against her arse cheeks. I was worried about ejaculating too soon so I allowed my gaze to settle on the saucepan that was now about to boil dry. I had neglected to turn the gas hob off. That escort izmir took my pleasure level down a notch, but then she grabbed my face in her hands and pulled me towards her for a kiss, then realising her legs were in the way. We both laughed.

Quick as a flash she pulled her legs down, let me slide out of her, then stood up, shakily.

“Turn the hob off and then see if you are strong enough to carry me upstairs on your cock!”

I turned off the gas and allowed her to jump up on me and wrap her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist… she used her fingers to get my hardness back into her softness. Things were so wet and slippery down there I wasn’t sure if I was genuinely in her vagina or just body rubbing against her outer genitalia. It felt good so I was not complaining. Mercifully she was light enough to carry up the first three steps, then we ended up simply fucking on the staircase, me on top of her, her legs around my waist. Kissing passionately as we fucked.

I shot my load inside her but did not announce it and waited for her to spot it… she was gushing so much I guess she did not feel my cum go off inside her. I was able to stay hard enough to keep thrusting so I kept going and found a second wind. Merely by staring at my penis sliding between her soaking wet lips got me hard again, that and the sight of those delicious breasts and those amazing eyes so full of desire for me.

She came. It happened in a long series of spasms and whimpers. She convulsed countless times and her juices flowed like a river down our legs. I slowed my thrusts right down. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and a beautiful smile lit up her face. We kissed and then she told me I could stop if I wanted. Her body was still trembling. I pulled out reluctantly and was grateful to see her pounce on my member and start licking her juices off my shaft. She told me she had never given a blow job before.

“You just remember that my fingers and thumb usually do the work” I suggested.

“That helps!” she chuckled.

I was turned on by her obvious enjoyment of tasting herself. I can even enjoy watching a woman picking her nose and eating her bogies. Any moment of a woman enjoying her own body and her own fluids is something that gets me off.

Katie hungrily licked and sucked and devoured me. I closed my eyes and imagined us in church together Sunday morning, and her announcing “Today’s Sermon is about cocksucking.” and proceeding to invite me up to the stage to perform in front of the congregation. I opened my eyes to see her sat awkwardly on the stairs, leaning forward to take as much of my length as she could into her gorgeous mouth.

With my hands on the banister I braced myself and released the second coming into her mouth, right down the back of her throat.

My balls ached as they emptied out completely… I was truly spent for the day.

I carried Katie up the stairs, or rather, I lifted her up and let her put most of her weight on me as we climbed. We got to her room and flopped on the bed, squished together in the small space.

We fell asleep together and woke up with our skin glued to one another from the sweat. We showered together and had a midnight dinner of cold tuna pasta and red wine. I suggested she come to mine as I at least had a bed settee that folded out as a comfortable double.

We walked in the cool night air. Her hand found mine and clasped it. “You know I really do love you” I told her, my voice low, my tone thoughtful.

“I should hope so. I am risking losing everything if you don’t!” She replied.

We went to bed to sleep. I resurfaced from the land of nod after five hours of deep and dreamless sleep. I turned and studied the nude form next to me. The way her breasts rose and fell as she snored, the way her nostrils flared with each breath, the way she mumbled incoherently. Her skin felt amazing. Her fuller figure had shape in all the right places; every curve was magnificent.

Her blonde triangle was, I guessed, natural and untrimmed, yet still not as much a fur burger as a brunette would be. I had bagged a good catch and had no intention of letting this one go. It was an especially delicious pink taco because mine was the only cock that had been inside it.

I began to caress and nibble at her hip and thigh on my side of the bed. She stirred but her eyes remained closed. I gently ran the tip of my tongue from side to side, effectively tracing a line up and down the length of her hairy canyon.

I delicately passed the tip across her already prominent clit and she began breathing heavier. Using my left arm to hold my weight off her and my right elbow, I managed to slide two fingers inside her and apply pressure to her front wall, effectively tickling her tummy from the inside, whilst getting a rhythm going with my mouth organ. Before long she was awake and whispering to me to keep going and to not stop under any circumstances. I did not need to be told this…I mentally steeled myself for the long haul and kept working, desperate to give her another orgasm.

She bucked and convulsed and projectile-ejaculated all down my right arm again and again and again. I waited for her to give me permission to pull away, in the end she grabbed me by the hair and yanked me up towards her face to kiss me.

“Good morning darling! Are you ready for breakfast? Or have you already eaten enough?”

I grinned and told her I needed a cup of tea and some eggs on toast, but I could do them, and how did she like her eggs.

“Unfertilized!” She quipped. “But I have to be in work for 8am so I cannot get to a chemist before 2pm, and most are closed on Sunday!”

“Uh oh.” I breathed. I suggested I ring round a few places or check the internet or even call NHS Direct first for a list of places open supplying emergency contraception on a Sunday.

“Sure, it’s the least you could do hun, but thank you for taking our responsibilities seriously!”

I shot her a look – a brief flash of anger – and then controlled myself. Why do women have to be such bitches? I mean, I had offered my tongue to the woman and she was the one who had demanded my dick on several occasions in the last twenty-two hours that she and I had properly known each other. I am delighted to know that I can eat cunt as well as any woman can eat another woman. But geez, a bit of appreciation would be nice that instead of completely shrugging off responsibility I was prepared to spend a morning finding somewhere she and I could get the morning after pill for a Sunday afternoon.

She looked at me, studying my face. She looked at the carpet and said, “I would appreciate all the support you can give just now. Not only do I have to tell my congregation that I am quitting, I also have to confess to them that I have been sexually immoral with a man that I am hoping will make an honest woman of me; plus, I may have conceived and will then be terminating a potential life using modern drugs.

“Okay okay!” I replied, trying to sound sympathetic, “I suggest I come to church to support you rather than staying here and finding a Sunday Pharmacy. And to heck with it, if God wants us to have a baby let him bless us with one and we will love it and raise it and be the most honest, non-hypocritical, wisest mum and dad on earth. I admire your integrity and balls going up there so soon. I would have left it a few weeks.”

“Thank you! That would mean so much to me!” She almost burst into tears.

And so it was decided. To heck with the morning after pill… we would brace ourselves for the consequences. I got my best suit out and she got her notes together and went ahead of me to the church. I turned up later and sat in the back and then stood up on cue to be surrounded by a sea of stunned faces as she announced her wishes to step down. But then an amazing thing happened. An old lady stood and said, “Good for you my dear, thank you for your hard work as part of this community. I am happy for you.”

Another person said, “Here here!”

Then the congregation applauded and people reached across to back slap me and shake my hand, and the place soon erupted into an emotional celebratory scene like a cheesy eighties movie…

I climbed out of my pew and strolled to the front and hugged her as soon as she had finished shaking hands with people.

She whispered, “I love you” and I returned to my seat. Communion went smoothly though I did not take it, and nor did she. Afterwards I caught up with her in the fellowship and whispered, “I want every inch of your body in my mouth as soon as humanly possible. Can we get out of here???”

She took me by the hand, grinned, said a few g’byes to people and dragged me to hers.

We had a wedding to plan and a job to find for her, but for now we were content to lose ourselves in each other. The taste, smell and feel of each other.

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