Perhaps traveling down to Cornwall on the day after the schools had broken up wasn’t the smartest idea, but not having kids meant that had passed me by.  What should have taken four hours stretched to nine, what with the volume of traffic and one or two ‘police incidents’ on the motorway.  I reached the small town just after 6pm, bought some groceries at the local supermarket, and made my way to the cottage I’d rented for the next two weeks.

I opened the door and dragged myself and my luggage inside. Putting away the groceries, I decided a shower was needed.  Cleaned and in fresh clothes, I thought about making something to eat, but really didn’t have the energy.  There were several takeaway menus on the kitchen counter, which I picked up and perused, deciding on a Chinese restaurant a fifteen-minute drive away. 

I parked up, and walked to the restaurant, they had a separate section for takeaways. I entered and climbed the stairs.  There was a small queue, and two people at the counter taking orders.  The young woman behind the counter looked up and nodded at me.  I walked over, made pleasantries and gave her my order, Singapore Chow Mein with no prawns, and some vegetable spring rolls.  She wrote the order on her pad and took my money, handing me a slip of paper with my order number on she said, “There’s a thirty-minute wait.” 

I decided her shortness was due to the restaurant being busy.  I took a chair to wait.  There was a TV in the corner, playing some inane game show. I turned to study her. She was, I guessed, early twenties, with black, curly hair tied in a severe ponytail.  Her face was oval, pretty, with dark, almond-shaped eyes, face suntanned with a spread of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her lips bore no trace of lipstick, in fact she looked like she didn’t need any enhancement. 

She had broad shoulders, kind of like a swimmer’s frame.  She wore a white wraparound top, when she rose to collect the food from the table behind her I saw she wore black jeans, her stomach flat, with a belly button ring.  She caught me looking and held my eye for a few seconds. I smiled and got no response.

I tried to concentrate on the TV, glancing occasionally at her, being caught again a couple of times.  Finally, she called my order number.  I approached the counter, she pushed the bag across to me and stared.  I thanked her, then, on a whim, took the pen from her hand, and wrote my number on the slip of paper she’d given me earlier. 

“I’m here for a couple of weeks; I’d be honoured if you’d let me take you out one evening.” I pushed the paper across the counter towards her.  She glared at me, picked it up, and threw it into the bin beside her.  “Enjoy your meal,” she said.  I nodded, took the bag, and left.

The food was good, my mood a little tainted by the dismissal, but hey, I thought, she probably gets hit on by men all the time, and I’m clearly older than her.  I chuckled at myself, at my gall, but, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  Clearing up, I decided I needed an early night, so retired to bed.

I was out and about early the next day, taking a drive up the coast to a favourite beach, walking the cliff paths, spotting seals,  and lunching at the local hotel.  I made a day of it, feeling the tension of the long drive, of work ebbing away. I looked in the local art gallery and bought a seascape painting for more money than I wanted to spend, but I liked it and knew just the spot for it at home.

Making my way home along the winding, high hedged lanes, my phone rang.  I pressed the ‘accept call’ button, thinking it was probably some work issue.

“Hello.”

“… Mr Singapore Chow Mein, no prawns?”

“Umm… yes, yes, it is. I’m Andy, by the way.”

“Okay, so here’s the deal.  Tomorrow night, you can pick me up and take me to that new restaurant in town, the one everyone’s raving about.  That is, if you can get a table. This is Phoebe...”

“I’ll see what I can do, Phoebe. I’ll call them now.”

“Good. Do that.” The call ended.

I pulled into the gateway to a field, making sure I didn’t block the road. I knew the restaurant she meant, found the number, and called. 

“You’re lucky, we’ve had a cancellation, see you tomorrow at 7.30, table for two.”

I was on the verge of calling Phoebe straight back but decided to play it cool.  I drove home, then called her.

“Table’s booked, Phoebe.  I’ll pick you up at 7.15 tomorrow, just tell me where.”

She suggested meeting at the clock tower in the market square, I said I knew it and would see her tomorrow.

The next day dragged. I had three showers and changed my mind about what to wear at least half a dozen times, in the end opting for black jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.  I drove to the town and parked up in good time, and wandered up to the clock tower.  I tried to act nonchalant, gazing in the windows of the shops, but felt on edge.

“Hi, Andy.”

I turned.

Phoebe was dressed in a pale yellow sleeveless dress that ended just above her knees, with strappy sandals on her feet. Her hair was tied in a loose bun; again she wore no make-up, her sun-kissed skin glowing. She smiled as she approached.

“Phoebe, hi, wow, you look fantastic.” I wasn’t sure whether to shake her hand but she leant in and kissed my cheek. She smelt of some floral concoction, not overpowering, just fresh. 

We walked towards the restaurant. “So, what made you change your mind?  You seemed a little put out the other night..”

“I know, sorry, it was a stupidly busy night and the guy who helps cover the shift is useless. You caught me on a bad night…”

“I’m glad you called…”

“You seemed nice. I had to rummage in the bin to find your number." She laughed, showing her perfectly white teeth. 

We arrived at the restaurant and were shown to the table, Phoebe opted for a glass of white wine while I had a bottle of the local ale.  We perused the menu, discussing the various options between ourselves.  When the waiter came across, I ordered for both of us.

We chatted while waiting for the first course to arrive, she told me she was 24, was a local and had decided to take a year out of her studies at university. I asked her if she liked to swim, referencing her frame, she told me she was a member of the local rowing club and worked out most days.  I told her a bit about me, not that there was much to tell, a dull office job moving figures around on spreadsheets, I lived alone, and the cottage was a semi-regular haunt for me, I knew the owners and generally got a good deal on the rent. 

The food arrived and it was divine, everything farmed and sourced within 30 miles of the restaurant. The chef certainly knew her stuff.  We ate, trying a little of each other's plates.  Phoebe was easy to talk to and very easy on the eye, her almond eyes watching my mouth when I spoke, really listening to me, her soft lips smiling as we chatted.  She had a couple more glasses of wine, while I stuck to water for the rest of the meal. 

We both declined a pudding, the meal more than enough to satiate our appetites.  Phoebe excused herself while I paid the bill, and we walked out into the evening twilight, Phoebe linking her arm around mine.

“Thank you so much, that was delicious, and the company was good, too,” Phoebe said, then, “So, where is this mystery cottage? Is it far?”

I told her where it was, just outside of the nearby town, in the middle of nowhere. 

“We could go there for a nightcap, if you don’t mind driving?”

“If you feel comfortable with me, then that sounds like a nice idea. I have some wine I think you’d like.”

I ushered her to the car, and we headed off; the twisty roads seemed twice as narrow under the darkening sky.  We made good time and pulled up at the cottage.

“Wow, it’s beautiful.”

I opened the front door and let her in. The cottage was a traditional Cornish style with thick walls, low doors, and ceiling beams. The owners had updated it as much as possible, but it retained its original charms.  Phoebe wandered around the ground floor, taking in the living room and kitchen, opening the doors into the garden. 

I poured her a glass of wine and opened a bottle of sparkling water for myself.  She took the offered glass and set it down on the table.  She moved closer to me, her eyes on my mouth. Her hands caressed the back of my head as she leaned in and kissed me. I placed my hands on her hips, pulling her softly to me as we kissed deeply.

“Thank you again; that was a perfect evening.”

“And you were perfect company, Phoebe.”

“Are you not having any wine?” she asked.

“I’ll need to have a clear head to drive you home.”

She looked at me, an amused look on her face.

“Or, you could have some wine and not drive me home…”

She took a step back and undid the zipper on the side of her dress, letting it fall to the floor.  She wore the palest lemon yellow bra and panties beneath. She stood, hands on hips, allowing me to appraise her, then bent to remove her sandals.  She took a long sip of her wine, then turned, sashaying to the stairs. “Bring the bottle," she said over her shoulder.

I followed her up the stairs, my eyes fixed to her backside, her legs long and muscular. 

“Is this the bedroom?” she turned to the left, opening the door.  She answered her own question and beckoned me to follow her.

Phoebe sat on the edge of the bed, sipping her wine, I poured a glass for myself and lightly clinked the glasses. 

“This is… unexpected.”

“Don’t overthink this, Andy.  I’m out of a long-term relationship, of sorts, and you’re single. And here. And kind. And…  I want this.”

Putting my wine glass down, I sat next to her on the bed, pulling her into a kiss, tongues exploring.  One hand released her hair, feeling it tumble over her shoulders, the other hand on her leg, moving up to her flat stomach with its belly button ring, and over the fabric of the bra, feeling her breasts through the lacy material.  Phoebe moaned softly, her hands fumbling with the buttons of my shirt, then running them over my chest. 

I fumbled with the clasp on her bra, being far too long since I’d performed the manoeuvre, and gently slid the garment from her shoulders.  Phoebe’s breasts were small but perfectly formed. I brushed her hardening nipples with my fingers, eliciting another soft moan from her.  Dipping my head, I flicked each nipple with my tongue, then took one between my lips, gently sucking.

Phoebe undid my belt, hands a blur as she pushed me back, sliding trousers and pants down my legs.  She purred as she gazed at my cock, already stiffening.  Her hand stroked up my thigh, then cupped my testicles, before running her fingers up my shaft.  Her eyes met mine; a hunger glazed her face, and she leaned in to kiss me again. 

Breaking the kiss, Phoebe kissed down my neck, chest, and torso, her hand massaging my cock as she moved down the bed, then she took me in her mouth, licking the tip before deep throating my erection.  Her nipples grazed my leg as her head bobbed up and down, her free hand moving to touch herself through her panties.  I gasped as she swallowed my length, seemingly hitting the back of her throat.  She sensed it felt good, her eyes sparkling as they met mine.  Phoebe alternated deeply sucking me with licking my shaft and head, one hand giving my balls attention while the other still played with her pussy.

“I want to taste you,” I said, not wanting her to stop but also not wanting to peak quite so soon.  My cock plopped from her mouth.

She moved up the bed and gave me a long, deep kiss, giving me a taste of myself.  I pushed her back on the bed; she giggled, her hair haloing around her head.  I kissed her again, then down between her breasts, giving her belly button ring a playful tug, and then, kneeling, I slid my fingers under the waistband of her panties and began to pull them down.

“Wow, bush!” I said, uncovering her soft pubic down, black and curly like her hair.  She lifted her legs, allowing me to remove the panties from her.  A trail of her juices clung to them, breaking as I lifted the panties and clinging to her skin. 

“Do you approve?” she asked. 

“I do, Phoebe, very much.” I brushed my fingers through her pubic hair, running them along her labia, her outer lips a dark pink.  She sighed, her body relaxing.  I gently ran one finger the length of her lips, capturing some of her juice, and raised it to my mouth, savouring her.  Her face lit up with a contented smile.

Kissing down from her calf to her thigh, I knelt between her legs, Phoebe playing with her nipples as my breath got closer to her centre.  Kissing the tops of her thighs and legs, I moved ever closer to the sweet spot. My fingers parted her pubic hair, revealing her wet lips. I dipped my tongue along them, tasting her, she shuddered as I rubbed my thumb over her clit. 

Phoebe spread her legs wider, opening herself up for me, and I began to softly lick and lap at her pussy, pressing my tongue to open her lips.  Phoebe moaned, her right hand clamped on her breast, her left hand grabbed my hair, keeping me in place.  I wasn’t going anywhere. 

I began to trace a lazy eight pattern over her lips and clit, blowing gently on the throbbing button, then pushed my tongue inside her, my lips drinking up her juices.  Her hair was already slick from her liquid.  My nose against her pubic bone, I continued to lick, lap, suck, feeling her writhe, hearing her gasps. 

I slid a finger inside her, her tunnel closing around them, guiding me in. I began to finger fuck her while I ate her out. She gripped my head, pulling me in harder to her, my tongue concentrating on her clit, flicking, licking, her breath rasped as I brought her towards climax, a soft "Fuck, yes…” escaping her lips. 

I continued to tease her with tongue, lips and fingers, her hips bucked, her face and chest reddened as she slowly came close, I steadied my pace, wanting it to last.  Her hand was crushing my head into her, grinding herself against my face.

“Yes… yes… yessss…”

Her body wracked as she came, her grip on my head loosened.  I softly kissed her wetness, a light, featherlike touch, then moved up the bed to lie with her.  She wrapped her arm across my chest, her heart beating hard against my skin.

“Fuck… that was… amazing.  I needed that.” 

I kissed her, letting her taste herself.  Her hand wrapped around my erection, gently moving up and down.

“And now, I need you inside me.”

“I don’t have any condoms, Phoebe.”

“We don’t need them,” she said.  She pulled me on top of her, her legs spread, her hand guiding me inside her. 

She put her hands on my back as I entered her, pushing gently inside, until my length filled her.  She sighed, her eyes fluttered closed. “Be gentle, please.”

I kissed her eyelids, then her mouth, and began to slowly move my hips back and forth, pulling back until my tip was almost out of her, then pushing back in, slowly, slowly, hips swaying left to right, my chest pressed against hers, our mouths pressed to each other.  

She felt tight but slick, her legs wrapped around my legs, pulling me close to her.  I kept the rhythm up, pulling almost out then pressing deep inside her, Phoebe moaning softly in time with my thrusts.

She bit my ear, lightly, “Fuck me hard, now. Please.”

I lifted my hips and knelt more upright, lifting her legs so her hips were more open, she placed one hand between her legs and started to rub her clit as I deepened my penetration and began to thrust harder into her, our pubic bones almost touching as I fucked her.  I steadied myself on one hand and crushed her tits with the other, watching her face as her mouth opened with each gasp. Her fingers tangled in her pubic hair as she rubbed herself, I shifted a little more and went deeper inside her.

“God, yes, I’m going to cum…”

I leaned in to kiss her then concentrated on giving her everything I had, pounding into her.  I could feel myself beginning to reach the point of no return.

She came to climax, that familiar shake, her body spasming.  She pulled my head down to hers, her words in my ear.

“Please, don’t come inside me… I’m not on the pill.”

Fuck.

I pulled out just in time, covering her pubic hair, stomach and tits with a stream of cum.  I gasped as I came, her hand wrapped around my cock and milked the cum out of me.  She looked literally like the cat that got the cream, her eyes lit up at the mess.  Phoebe dipped a finger into the pool of cum filling her belly button, raising it to her mouth and tasting me.  She held my rapidly softening cock in her hand, and shimmied down the bed to take me in her mouth, cleaning the sticky fluid from the tip and shaft. 

She laughed, unexpectedly.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, thinking my performance wasn’t up to scratch.

“I am so on the pill. I just wanted to see you cum. For me.”

“You…! “ I couldn’t help but laugh with her. “So, was it what you expected?”

“And more,” Phoebe smiled, her hand rubbing my cum across her skin. “I think we need to take a shower, but maybe… you can come inside me next time?”