I had been looking forward to a lazy day. Elliot was out at work, the house was quiet, and I was ready to curl up with tea and binge some TV.

The knock at the door made me jump. I padded over and opened it; there was a man standing smiling in the doorway. He looked good. Early fifties-ish, with hair that had gone silver, the T-shirt he wore clung to his chest and arms. He smiled at me, warm and familiar, and for a moment I forgot I was standing there in my old baggy T-shirt and leggings. It took me a second to remember who it was; I had only seen him occasionally and briefly. “Hey, it’s Andrew, right?” He was Elliot’s dad.

“Katie,” he said, his voice low and friendly. “Elliot mentioned the sink was giving you trouble. Thought I’d stop by and have a look.”

“That’s nice of you,” I replied, stepping back so he could come in. “Elliot didn’t tell me you were coming.”

He gave a small shrug and headed straight for the kitchen, his eyes scanning the counter, working out what needed doing. I followed, watching how easily he moved. Broad shoulders, strong back, no sign of the middle-aged spread most men his age carried.

While he crouched under the sink, I leaned on the counter and chatted as he worked. He was charming and friendly, much like his son. Everything was normal until I said, “So… how’s Elliot’s mum?” I had met her a few times, an elegant woman, friendly and gorgeous. I could see the two of them making a very striking couple.

He paused for a moment before answering. “We’re separated. Been that way for a while.” His tone was calm, but there was something heavier underneath.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He kept working with the wrench but added, “She ended up sleeping with one of Elliot’s college roommates.”

I blinked, completely caught off guard. “Seriously?” my mind wandered as I tried to work out which one. It must be Jamie. I knew there had been a falling out between them, but I never imagined it would be because he’d slept with Elliot’s mum.

He looked up at me then, eyes steady. “And she got pregnant.”

The words hung there. I had no idea what to say. A mix of shock and awkward sympathy hit me. I looked at Andrew again, wondering how he’d taken it at the time, what it had done to him.

“That’s… bloody awful,” I said quietly.

He let out a short laugh with no humour in it. “Yeah. Well, you deal with what you have to.”

I found myself studying him while he went back to work. He did not look like a man who had been beaten down by life. His arms were tanned and muscled, veins showing under the skin as he tightened the pipe fittings. 

Andrew was twisting at a connection under the sink when something slipped. I heard the clank of metal against metal and then a sharp hiss. A second later, water shot out in a spray that hit both of us full on.

I yelped and jumped back, but it was no use. My T-shirt clung to my skin instantly, the thin fabric going almost see-through. My hair stuck to my cheeks, and I could feel cold drops sliding down my stomach.

“Shit,” Andrew muttered, shutting off the valve in a couple of quick moves. He straightened up, water dripping off his arms and shirt. The dark cotton clung to him, moulding over his chest and shoulders. I could see the lines of muscle underneath, the flat stomach, and the curve of his pecs.

I caught myself staring and then saw him glance at me. His eyes flicked down to where my vest top was plastered to my breasts, my nipples hard from the chill. There was a split second of something between us before he looked away, almost too quickly.

“Sorry about that,” he said, grabbing the tea towel from the counter and rubbing at his face and hair before passing it to me. I could smell him on it.

“It’s fine,” I said, although I could feel goosebumps breaking out all over me. “Bloody hell, you really are in shape, aren’t you?”

He grinned faintly and shrugged. “Been working on myself since the divorce. If I’m competing with college students, I can’t afford to let myself go.”

I laughed, more to cover how intently I was looking at him. “I’ve slept with plenty of college guys, and none of them looked that good.”

His head tilted slightly, and he gave me a look I couldn’t quite read. Then he said, “You’ve slept with a lot of them, have you?” It came out a little too quickly, almost teasing but with an edge.

I raised an eyebrow. “Did you just call me a slut?”

His expression shifted as if he realised how it sounded. “I didn’t mean…”

I cut him off with a grin. “It’s alright. I am a bit of a slut.”

That made him pause. His eyes lingered on me for longer this time, and there was no mistaking the heat in them.

“You should get out of those wet clothes,” he said after a moment. “You’re shivering.”

I looked down at myself, then back at him. “Yeah… probably should.” I reached for the hem of my T-shirt and pulled it over my head, letting it drop to the floor. His eyes widened slightly.

I stepped closer, my voice low. “If your wife can sleep with Elliot’s roommate, I think it’s only fair you try one too. Now it’s your turn,” I said, smiling.

He froze for a second; I half expected him to refuse, to turn away, to say this wasn’t appropriate, but instead his eyes locked on mine, then his mouth curved into a slow, knowing smile.

He pulled his T-shirt over his head in one smooth motion.

The view made me bite my lip. His chest was firm, skin lightly tanned, and there was a trail of hair running down from his navel into the waistband of his jeans. Leading me directly to what I wanted.

The smile stayed on his face for only a heartbeat before he stepped in, closing the distance. I tilted my chin up and kissed him. His lips were firm and warm, and he kissed me back without hesitation. The smell of him was clean and faintly woody, and I could feel the muscle in his arms as he pulled me closer.

He lifted me like it was nothing, his hands sliding under my thighs, and set me on the kitchen counter. My legs parted instinctively, and he stepped in between them. The counter was cool against my arse, but the heat of him in front of me made my skin prickle.

My fingers went straight to his belt, fumbling at the buckle. The wet denim clung stubbornly, so he stepped back, undid it himself, and shoved his jeans down with a grunt.

I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my leggings, wriggling out of them. They peeled away damply, and I tossed them aside.

He stepped back into me, his hips pressing between my thighs as we kissed again, harder this time. Almost frantic. He pulled me forward until I could feel his manhood pressing against my knickers.

I reached down, my palm curling around him through the damp fabric of his boxers. He groaned into my mouth, and the sound went straight to the pit of my stomach.

“I’ve got condoms in the bedroom,” I whispered against his lips.

He nodded, and we both hopped down, grabbing our wet clothes as we went. I led the way, the wet carpet squelching faintly under our bare feet.

In my room, I dropped the clothes in a pile and went to the bedside drawer. My fingers closed on a strip of foil packets, and I turned back to him. He had already pulled off his boxers and was sitting there, erect and proud.

I tore one open and leaned down, placing it on the tip of his shaft and leaning in, wrapping my lips round the condom and sliding down to roll it on. The taste of the lube was familiar and slick against my tongue, and I felt him throb as I worked it down.

When I was done, I straightened and climbed onto his lap, planting my knees on either side of his legs. He leaned back slightly, hands on my thighs, watching me with that fixed, hungry look that sent a pulse straight between my legs.

I kissed him, slow but deep, tasting him, my fingers in his hair. I reached down between us, wrapping my hand around him, guiding his cock so the head pressed against my opening.

The moment I pushed down I gasped, my breath catching as he filled me. Inch by inch I sank onto him until my thighs were pressed to his, the heat of him throbbing deep inside me.

“Fuck, that feels good!” He breathed, his grip tightening on my hips.

I rolled forward and back, letting the friction work through me, his length rubbing against that perfect spot inside. My nails dug lightly into his shoulders as I leaned in, kissing along his jaw, then biting his ear.

A low moan escaped me, louder than I meant it to be. I rocked harder, chasing that deep sensation, my clit brushing against the base of him every time I moved.

I upped the pace, grinding down so I could feel him filling me completely, then lifting up just enough to slam back down onto him. Each movement drew a sharper sound from my throat, my body clenching around him on instinct.

The heat built quickly, my thighs flexing, my hips circling against his, and my chest brushing against his as I bit at his neck. He groaned, his hands moving from my hips to my arse, pulling me into him harder.

I could feel his body tense under me, like he was trying to keep control, but the way he sucked in his breath told me I was getting to him. I knew I was overwhelming him, and that only made me move more, chasing the friction and perfect fullness of him inside me.

I kept bouncing on him, my knees digging into the mattress for leverage, his cock stretching and filling me with every downward thrust. The slick sounds between us only made me wetter, the rhythm getting faster as I pushed myself harder.

His breathing evened out, and I felt the change the moment he stopped being overwhelmed and started taking control. He gripped my hips tighter, guiding my movements so I came down on him exactly the way he wanted.

I moaned again, louder this time, my head tipping back. The pleasure was too much to keep quiet. “Oh… fuck, Andrew… yes.” My voice rose with each thrust, and I could feel his cock twitch inside me in response.

I pulled back enough to speak, my voice breathless. “Sorry… I’m a screamer.”

He gave me a rough grin. “Don’t apologise.”

Leaning in, I bit at his ear, nibbled down the side of his neck, tasting the salt of his skin. He groaned and tilted his head, giving me more to work with, his fingers digging in harder.

I ground down against him, my clit pressing against the base of his shaft, the sensation pushing me closer with every movement. My moans slipped into cries, raw and needy, and I didn’t care how loud I was anymore. I did warn him.

“Jesus, Katie,” he muttered, his voice tight, and I felt him tense beneath me. Then he moved suddenly, his hands gripping me under my thighs.

I squealed as he stood, keeping me fully impaled on him, my arms wrapping tight around his neck for balance. My legs locked around his waist, my cunt clenching around him from the shock of it.

In two long strides, my back hit the bedroom door, and then he drove up into me hard, making me gasp and dig my nails into his shoulders. The new angle had him hitting deep, and I cried out without restraint.

His hips slammed into me, the force of each thrust rocking my body against the wood. The door rattled faintly in its frame, the impact sharp enough to make me gasp with every drive. I could feel the muscles in his shoulders and arms flex as he held me up, his grip under my thighs unyielding.

Each time he pushed in, I felt him right to the hilt, my body stretching and clenching around him. 

I was loud now, my moans rising into sharp cries as the heat coiled low in my belly, my hips meeting his thrusts in a frantic rhythm.

He grunted with effort, the sound vibrating against my skin where his mouth had found my neck. His lips trailed upward, in an echo of what I had done when I was in control, kissing, biting, claiming me as he kept me pinned, taking me with relentless force.

The slap of our bodies, the ragged breaths, the low, guttural sounds coming from him, it all blurred into one pulse of heat and pressure building fast. I clung to him, my head fell back, thudding against the door, eyes half-shut as every nerve in my body lit up.

My breath came in quick, broken gasps, the sounds slipping into shameless cries that bounced back off the walls.

Andrew’s hands were locked under my thighs, lifting me into each movement, his strength unyielding. I could feel the slick heat of us where our bodies met, each sharp push making my head spin. My nails dug into his back hard enough to leave marks, my hips moving without thought, chasing every ounce of friction. His teeth grazed my skin, then bit lightly, just enough to send another jolt of heat straight down my spine.

“Oh… fuck… Andrew,” I gasped, my voice cracking as the pressure coiled tighter in my belly. My thighs clenched involuntarily around him, my whole body tensing.

With a roar, my orgasm crested, a wave ripping through me so hard I almost sobbed. My mouth fell open in a scream, the sound raw and high as my body convulsed around him. I clawed down his back, and my legs shook violently, trying to squeeze him even closer.

He didn’t stop, riding out every pulse of it, the relentless thrusting making the orgasm seem to go on forever, my cries spilling out helplessly until I was left gasping, shaking, still pinned tight against the door.

He didn’t give me a second to recover. Continuing to drive into me with a pace that made the door rattle. The impacts came fast and relentlessly, every movement jolting through me until my body was straining to keep up.

I couldn’t think about anything except the rhythm and the way the heat started to build again. My cries turned to gasps, then back to cries, each one sharper than the last as the pressure coiled low and tight.

Time blurred. I had no idea how long it had been; it felt endless and urgent all at once. My head thudding back against the door, my hips moving in sync with his without conscious thought. The tension in me wound tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable.

I could feel the next orgasm coming, my whole body tightening around it. My legs trembled in his grip, the muscles in my thighs burning from the strain, but he only drove harder, pushing me right to the edge.

The heat inside me was almost unbearable now, curling tight and low until I thought I’d break from holding it in. My nails raked his skin, my head tipped back, and my voice climbed higher with every breath. I didn’t care how loud I was; all that mattered was that I was seconds away from falling apart again.

Then we heard a car pull up outside. I stopped screaming just in time to hear the front door click open.