Lorna seduces the Courier
Last week I succumbed to a little nostalgia. At the time I didn't know that was what I was going to do, but that was the way it turned out. And, as luck would have it, it became the sort of thing that I know is of interest to many of you, so here goes!
To set the scene for you this happened after I had had a very busy few days. I decided to give myself a bit of a break, so after I had tidied the house for what felt like the twentieth time that week (as you can tell I have been doing a lot of that recently!) I opened a bottle of something dry and white that I just happened to have chilling, settled down and breathed deeply.
I wasn't in a TV frame of mind and the radio was a bit too manic for me as well, so I turned it off and found myself gazing out of the window in silence. It was drizzly weather. For ages most people I met had agreed that the heatwave had been lovely but we really needed a drop of rain. Now the reality of it was here though, the contrast with the bright sunny weather of the past few weeks made me a little sad. I thought back to some of the places I had been this year, the warmth, the gentle breezes, the swimming pools and the gentle, sultry nights and the lovers I had known along the way and I felt a little in need of company.
I toyed with the idea of taking myself off to bed for a little "me time" - I do so enjoy giving myself a nice orgasm every now and again! - but decided against it for now. I took a little sip of wine and listened to the noise of the raindrops on the window and drifted into a little trancelike state.
It was at that point that the doorbell went. It startled me back to reality so much I almost spilled a little Chianti. I took another sip to make sure that didn't happen a second time, set the glass down and went to the door.
I saw the vaguely familiar face of a man who was looking at my upstairs windows, holding a briefcase over his head to shield himself from the rain. Hearing the front door open he turned to me and broke into a lovely warm grin.
'Oh good, you're in, I was hoping you would be!'
I smiled back, unsure why it felt like I knew him, then realised he was still getting wet despite the briefcase. Then it dawned on me, I had forgotten I had some important papers to go through, the solicitors had said something about getting them to me today. My caller must be the delivery boy!
'Oh god yes, the contract details, of course. Come in, come in!'
I closed the door behind him, asked if he wanted a towel, then gestured him towards the front room. Would he like a glass of wine?
'As it happens, I wouldn't mind at all! I'm on a half day at work so you are my last client for today. The car is in for servicing and I'm on foot so there's no need to worry about succumbing to temptation...'
He mimed turning a steering wheel with his hands as he said this, but I got the idea there was another meaning to his words. I went through to the kitchen to fetch a second glass, puzzling slightly over how I might know him. I poured his wine, and we clinked glasses, him still smiling - quite fetchingly, I thought! - as we drank. There was an awkward silence, so I said,
'So, what are these papers you'd like me to go through..., sorry, what was your name, please?'
'Andrew... ah, here, let me give you my card.'
He continued smiling, though not quite as brightly as before. I glanced at his card. He was obviously waiting for something. I don't know whether it was my dreamlike state from before or the wine was having a greater effect than I realised. I read aloud, slowly.
I smiled a little wistfully.
'I used to know an Andrew Clayton once. In fact, I nearly went out with him at school.'
'Let me guess - did he fancy you something rotten but never work up the courage to do anything about it?'
He grinned at me. I was lost in the memory of the schoolboy who could and probably should have been my first lover, but wasn't. The penny took an alarmingly long time to drop. When it did I nearly spilled some more wine.
'Oh my god! Andrew Clayton. From... Brook Lane?'
'The very same.'
The smile was back to full strength now. I sensed him relax a little. I also sensed my body at work, thinking back fondly to all those drives and desires of my youth, and his particular claim to fame. In a flash I knew that he had been having his own little bout of nostalgia. I pictured him volunteering for this job at the solicitors once he saw my name, hoping against hope that if he played his cards right he might get to do what he had wanted to do over forty years previously.
In that cheery smile of his there was decades of longing. I felt myself blushing a little at what he might be reading in my face, as we sat there side by side. The tension was palpable; we both knew, I think, that we wanted to get past the silly stage of looking at each other, and onto the more serious matter of fun. I chose my words carefully, and spoke them slowly and matter-of-factly.
'You know, I've never forgotten the fact that you were the first boy I gave an erection, Andrew.'
He gave a single laugh, but it wasn't at all harsh.
'Ha! First one you noticed, maybe. They didn't have them then, but you really should have gone to Specsavers, Lorna! You were a little blonde hard-on factory. You were the subject of my first fantasy. And the first time I got anywhere with a girl, that time when I got tossed off by Jeanette in the park, I imagined she was you. Then I went home and had another wank by myself, imagining you were letting me come on your tits. Small, but beautifully formed, as I recall. Not so small now, but still beautiful, of course.'
It was clear we had managed to get over the first, awkward hurdle of broaching the subject successfully. We were both back to being randy teenagers, eager to get each other into bed.
'And I have thought about you since then,' I said, 'not all the time, of course, but just wondering what might have happened if things had turned out a little differently...'
I tailed off a little, wondering how much to say about my occasional masturbation fantasies about him, how disappointing this might get, but most of all how he would react to something a bit out of the ordinary.
'Speaking of differently, would you consider doing something a little...unusual?'
He seemed tense again, as if his dream was about to be taken away from him at the last minute.
'I have a tripod for my mobile here. Is it ok if I set it up?'
'Mobile?' he seemed puzzled.
'Camera really,' I said, 'one doesn't always get a chance to revisit those first moments, does one?'
'One doesn't,' he said, carefully, 'and as long as one's face isn't too visible, so one's wife and one's employer never get to find out, one is happy to agree to...what exactly?'
I smiled at him and started constructing my camera setup.
'A little bit of erotic time-travel, Andrew. We're going to take each other's virginities this afternoon. That's if you want to. But I want the camera running so I have a souvenir of you fucking me. The only thing is you're not allowed to come inside me - I don't want any babies to spoil my 'O' levels, now do I? So you can fuck me, but you'll have to come in my mouth or something. OK?'
'Is pulling out of you to come on your tits OK?'
'Perfect! Now, that's got the camera rolling, put your briefcase out of the way and you can show a schoolgirl how to french kiss...'
And that, dear reader, is how Lorna managed to lose her cherry to her first proper crush last week!