Page 54 of Devil's Due

A look of pain briefly crosses her face. “That’s where my sisters helped. They’d separate them into colours, and I’d sew the buttons on. After that I didn’t need help.”

Damn, I hadn’t realised the significance of losing her own clothes, had just asked for her to be lent some.

She’s on the same wavelength as me. “Of course, I don’t know what I’m wearing now. But denim’s usually black or blue, so this top should go with my shorts whatever colour it is.”

I’ve been with her a couple of days, and I’d never thought about things that have no everyday significance in my life.

My brow creases. “Seems like you have to spend a lot of time and effort doing things everyone else takes for granted,” I observe.

“Time? What’s time? We all have to do chores, Beef.”

I suppose she’s right, we do. But the insight into her world has been intriguing, and I admire her more than ever.

It’s the fourth day when I fuck up. Those boots which make my feet so loud? Well, yeah, I may have taken them off and not kicked them under the couch.

I’m reading a book I grabbed off the shelf, a history of Harley Davidson, when suddenly there’s a loud exclamation of ‘shit’, and a stunned and irate little woman lands in my lap. I’m not too sure whose oomph is louder.

“Beef! Did you leave something lying around?” she cries out indignantly.

Keeping my arms around her, I lean forward to check for myself if I had. “Fuck, sorry, babe. My boots.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“Fuck no. But keep still and stop wriggling.” I’m half expecting her to leap up as soon as she realises that her movements have caused her to straddle me, and she’s now sitting over a cock which I couldn’t bring under control if my life depended on it. It really doesn’t help that I’d already been admiring her walking around in tiny shorts and a tee shirt with the Satan’s Devils logo on it.

“Um, is this me, or would you get hard if any woman landed in your lap?” Her tone is gently mocking.

She’s correct on both counts, but on balance, the fact it’s her has most to do with it. What’s the right answer? As her head tilts to one side waiting for a response, I realise I could press for more, or back out of this situation gracefully. Trouble is, I don’t know what I want. My hands move of their own volition, gently resting on the side of her hips. She’s rounded with curves, soft, not hard and angular.

She’s still waiting. Oh fuck it. “Babe, doesn’t take much to get me hard, I’m a fuckin’ man. Don’t let it worry you. Doesn’t mean I need sex, or that I intend to act on it. If I need to, I’ll take care of it myself later.”

She gives a soft laugh as her fingers come up to trace my face, her touch so soft and soothing. “You don’t scare me. You could have been walking around with a hard-on for days, I’d never have noticed.”

I wait for her to get up, but she doesn’t move. As her hands start to explore, I do nothing to stop her. All she’s doing is mapping me, like she had that first morning which seems a lifetime ago now. But as we’ve learned more about each other, this afternoon her touch feels more intimate. A long session in the shower relieving my cock with my hands becomes more and more likely.

She smells like a summer’s day, maybe a flowery comparison for a biker, and it must be down to her shampoo, but that’s the only way I can describe it. Her fingers are gentle as they roam across my body, her little sighs of appreciation as she discovers something she likes does nothing to deflate my hard dick.

After diving into the deep end with Sally, I’d promised myself I’d stop searching for my one, had realised the dangers of getting in with the wrong woman again. I’d learned about my own shortcomings as a man, and that while I’ll give everything I can to the woman I love, I can’t take being constantly depended upon.

I’d be up for a quick fuck, what man wouldn’t? But what would be her expectations after that? A ring on her finger?

“Beef, am I making you uncomfortable?”

My hands haven’t strayed from where they lightly rest on her hips. She’s noticed I’m not reciprocating, but she can’t see I’m using my eyes where she has to use her hands. Feasting on her gorgeous tits covered only by a thin tee. I haven’t told her her nipples show, not when there’s just the two of us here. One of my brothers comes calling? I’d tell her to put on a bra.

How best to answer her question? Am I uncomfortable? Yes, no. Affirmative because my cock’s so fucking hard, no because I don’t want her to move. I’m enjoying the sensation of having a beautiful woman sitting on my dick even though I’d prefer there to be no clothes between us.

“Babe. You must know what you’re doing. Meant what I said, ain’t going to act on it, but…” I tell her at last, “you’re an attractive woman. And I’m a red-blooded man. Think you need to move.”

“You think I’m attractive?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Hmm. I like the feel of you.” Her hands trace my chest. “I think you’re attractive too.”

“You can’t see me.” I chuckle.

“Are you butt ass ugly?”

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