A glossy black coating mirrored my face and reflected my disinterested expression back to me. I clasped the phone between my shoulder and chin as I continued to carefully paint my toenails.

My boyfriend is on the other end and he’d been talking intermittently for several minutes, in that time my attention had drifted so far that I was now paying more attention to the pedicure I was giving to myself. He’s telling me what a good time he was having with his friends in Wales. It was around then that I drifted off.

“Anyway,” he says, “I’m really sorry I’m not with you. I know you’ll be missing me, I just couldn’t let them down, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

It had only been three days since I last saw him, I wasn’t missing him. In fact, I was so angry that he had left me on a whim at such short notice that I had wanted to tell him straight up how annoyed at him I was. I would have if he had let me get a word in edgeways. By the time he was on a roll, I couldn’t be bothered.

“Are you missing me?” he asks.

“Yeah, of course I am.” A mental flash ran through my head, my hands gripping tightly at the metal bars of the workbench. Finch fucking me hard from behind. If only you knew, I think to myself.

“Good, I’d hate to think you were angry at me,” he says. I take a breath and brush the black polish over the final toenail.

“No, I’m not angry with you,” I reply. An intense buzz rippled through me as I remember sucking dutifully on Finch’s engorged cock.

“Good,” he adds.

“Anyway, I’ll have to get off the phone now because we’re going to go out soon,” It was a lie; we weren’t going out.

“Okay, I’ll speak to you soon!”

“Bye!”

I let the phone slip from my grasp and it tumbles onto the bedsheets. It was now the middle of the afternoon, but the weather wasn’t as nice as the previous two and the sun was showing no signs of emerging, so no one was outside. I had barely left my room all day and when I had, I had not seen Finch.

The day after our little memorable rendezvous, Claire had found my hair band somewhere in their back garden.

“Finch?” she had shouted loudly from the French doors.

“Yeah,”

“Was that guy married?”

“Which guy?” he had asked, understandably confused.

“The guy who had the house before us.”

No, he lived here alone… Why?”

She held out my red hair band.

 “Did he have long hair?” she asked.

“What’s that?” Finch asked.

“It’s a hair band,”

I recognised it instantly as my own and by the look on Finch’s face, I knew that he recognised it too. My heart raced. Unsure of what to do I reached for the nearest magazine and pretended to read it, sitting upright in the deck chair.

“Oh right,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “Yes. He did. He had long grey hair… I think.”

My head was down. I peeked over the brim of my sunglasses to the corner of my eye and watched the interaction.

“Right, I wondered why there was a hair band in the side shed. I knew it wasn’t one of mine because I never go in there!”

I reached out to the table and grabbed my drink, sipping it with a straw.

“Yeah, it must be one of his,” Finch said.

Claire accepted the explanation pretty quickly. She asked Finch to help her with something in the house when he had a minute and then went back inside.

We were left alone for a brief moment, our eyes met, we said nothing to each other but what had happened the night before was all suddenly very real to both of us.

“Fancy it later, Finch?” my Dad shouted across the garden as he strode towards us with a bag of golf clubs.

“What?!” Finch said in a panicked haste.

“A few rounds before the wives start dinner?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s do it!” Finch said.

They left and I returned to bathing in the warm sun. Thinking about nothing but what had gone on. I could not get it out of my mind.

I had spent the rest of the day in my room and only came down for tea in the evening, where Claire made comment about my quietness, which I brushed off as feeling a little sun stroked.

Today we were all supposed to be going out in the evening for a meal, but I just couldn’t face it. I was still shaking with adrenaline and was paranoid that Claire or my parents would sense that something was amiss with me, or even Finch.

I peak into my parents’ room and make sure they’re both decent. I apologise and explain that I’m not feeling up to going out for the meal. It’s met with some concern from my Mum but my Dad seems fairly happy about it, I’m almost expecting him to ask if I can sit David so that it can just be the couples but when looking to my Mum, he seems to think better of it.  

“Okay, well just stay here and get some rest then. Hopefully, you’ll feel better tomorrow so we can go out in the kayaks. We’ve only got one more day after all.” Mum says.

From my bedroom, I hear them all leaving. After about five minutes I venture downstairs and pull a tumbler glass from the cupboard, some ice from the freezer and the Vodka from the bar. I add a little vodka to the glass and then top the rest up with lemonade. On the way back upstairs, I look to the entry stand and notice a brown wallet sat atop of a notepad. I knew this wasn’t my Dad’s. I pick it up and flip it open, pulling out the driver’s licence. Of course it’s Finch’s.

He’s going to get there and my Dad will have to pay, I think to myself. I laugh and wonder if he’s done this on purpose. Then a thought runs through my head… maybe he’s done this for a different reason?

I hold it in my hand for a second, then make my way upstairs with it. Thoughts running in my head. If he has genuinely forgotten it then he’s unlikely to come back to get it, so I can just put it back later. My Dad will be more than happy to pay. But, if he’s done it on purpose so he has an excuse to come back…

I can feel myself getting excited. I sip from the vodka and lemonade, the ice chinking against the side of the glass and start the bath in my en-suite running, dousing bubble bath into the tub. After five minutes the soapsuds agitate and grow and the room is steaming hot. I tie my hair up and undress, flinging my pyjamas into the corner of the room. I switch off the taps and get in. The bubbles engulf my body and cover my chest.

I sit my drink and the wallet next to me on the side of the bath and start to stir the waters with my hand. After a while, I begin thinking that this is all so silly of me. The other night was just a crazy one-off. There’s no way that he would think about doing it ever again. I’m young, but not naïve, I had understood that he wasn’t going to start leaving his wife and whisk me away somewhere, nor did I even want him to. we had used each other in the barn hut the other night, but that was fine by me. The thrill of being this young woman with the power to give that kind of pleasure to an older man made the hairs on my neck stand on end.

Then I hear a noise. A clicking and jangling of keys from the ground floor of the house. Someone had come through the front door. There was silence for a few moments until I heard them making their way upstairs.

Shit, I think. What if it’s Claire? She could have offered to come back for the wallet herself. Maybe she’s coming up to look for it? I heard them come into my bedroom, then start to make their way towards the bathroom.  

Fuck it. I pick up the wallet and placed it between my teeth. The door begins to widen slowly.

Finch stands there in the doorway with a face of trepidation, looking unsure himself if this was a good idea. As soon as our eyes meet I can’t help but begin to blush and smile, his wallet still clasped between my teeth. He lets out a small exhalation of joy and I giggle.

“I’m assuming this is what you’re looking for?” I say, taking the wallet out of my mouth and holding it in the air before setting it on the side next to me.

“Well, kind of,” he says, “more like you. I left it on purpose, I needed a reason for us to be alone again.”

“I knew it!”

I can feel my heart starting to thump harder, I can feel the pulse inside my head.

“I can see that. But, I didn’t expect to come back and find this.”

I smile and naively shrug my shoulders a little. There’s an electricity in the room during the brief silence that separated my response.

“Better grab the wallet and run then,” I say.

He closes the door and walks over to the toilet. Unbuckles his trousers and pulls them down below his crotch. “I’d rather stay here and watch the show,” he says, as he slips his growing member out from behind his boxer strap, sitting down on the closed lid.

“Oh, hello there!” I say with a smirk.

He spreads his legs and makes himself more comfortable. His cock is now fully erect and he strokes it up and down leisurely in his clasped hand. I move some bubbles out of the way so he can see my breasts, bringing a hand up from under the water to wash my chest. I look Finch straight in the eyes as he jerks himself.

I take my middle finger and move it towards my pussy under the waters. I separate my lips and lightly tap at my swelling clitoris. I feel my cheeks starting to flush immediately and I look to see his excitement percolating around the tip of his swollen cock. The precum glistens at the head of his opening and drips down, coating the rest of him with each pass of his pumping hand.

I begin to circle my bean, my shoulders trembling, lurching forward as the feeling of bliss begins to spread between my legs. I take my other hand and place a finger in my mouth, always looking at him.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.

“How long do I have to wait before you put it in my mouth again?” I ask.

“You want it?”

“Mhm,” I say, nodding my head.

He kicks his shoes off and stands up, pulling his trousers and boxers completely off before unbuttoning his shirt and dropping it to the floor. He walks over to the tub and I move closer to the edge, biting my lower lip.

“How long before it gets suspicious?” I ask.

“If I’m not back there in ten minutes, it’ll look odd.”

I stick my lower lip out in a juvenile grump, looking up past his thick cock to meet his gaze.

“I know. There’re so many things I want to do to you. It’s all I’ve been thinking about,” he says.

“Let’s not waste time then,” I say.

I extend my tongue out to greet his manhood. He leans his legs against the rim of the tub and I lick the glaze from his head and taste him. Salty and sweet.

I take him all in to my open mouth slowly, without hands and feel him hit the back of my throat. I outspread my tongue from underneath his shaft and tickle his balls with a wet touch. I hold him there for a few seconds until the tears in my eyes start to gather before pulling away, leaving a line of saliva between us.

“How does it feel to have your best friend’s daughter give you head?” I ask, grinning.

“You have no idea,” he says.

I take a grip of his cock in my hands and start to jerk him.

“How does Daddy's little girl feel on the inside?” I ask.

My heart is pounding so hard.

“You keep saying stuff like that you’re going to make me cum way too soon,”

I giggle and take him inside my mouth once again, sucking him, properly now. He starts to moan and I bring up my hand to cup his balls, massaging them as I continue to blow.

His hands start to roam and feel my soft skin and hair. Running along my shoulders and reaching down to fondle my breasts. He takes my nipple in his right hand and runs it between his thumb and finger making it hard and sensitive. I balance his manhood on the end of my tongue and let him rest there as I bob my tongue gently against the underside of his head.

He brings his other hand to my head and steadies himself as I start to suck him harder. Running it around the back of my head and onto the side of my face resting it on my cheek.

I pull him out from my mouth.

“Slap me,” I say.

“What?” he says, almost taken out of the situation.

“Slap me in the face.”

Finch lightly taps my face with an open hand.

“No. I want you to slap me properly. Please?” I ask, almost begging.

“Are you sure about-“

“Please, come on.” I say cutting him off.

He brings his right hand downwards swiftly and connects to my left cheek with a slap that echoes against the walls of the bathroom. I smile and let out a low grunt.

“Take me and do what you want with me. Go as far as you want. I’m your little whore right now.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I nod and suck my lower lip into my mouth looking up to him.

He grabs me by the shoulders and guides me to stand up out of the bath. I stand and step out of the water. He grabs hold of the towel from the side and frantically pats me down quickly before thrusting me towards the bedroom door.

I stumble towards the bed, still damp and wet. He comes up behind me and brings his hand up from my waist and over my tits towards my neck. He holds me by the throat and squeezes a little, pulling the hair bobble out to release my locks. The joy and excitement jolts through my body like an electric shock and I tremble at the knees as he presses his hairy chest against my bare back.

His hands roam my body, his right finding its way between my thighs to my warmth, his left gripping around my throat. He wets his fingers inside my pussy, then he squeezes my neck harder and tightly grabs at my buttocks, almost parting them aside with his grip. He turns me around, his extra foot and a half looming over the top of me. His hands run up my neck to my face and he clasps my cheeks, gripping tightly, he separates my jaw and pushes the flesh into my mouth before leaning in for a kiss.

We kiss just like the other night. His tongue slides into my mouth to meet mine. I curl mine around his. His stubble brushes up against my soft skin, feeling so good. Then he pulls away and slaps me again, harder this time. He holds my hair forcefully in a clump, tips my head back slightly and spits in my face.

I flinch and can’t help but smile.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Do what you want to me.” I plead.

With that, he turns me back around and walks me forwards towards the bed before pushing me down and grabbing at my hips. He hoists them upwards towards him, putting my knees on the bed and presses my head down into the duvet with a firm hold of my hair. I hear him spit again, not on me this time, but into his hand, as he starts to feverishly lube my asshole.

“Oh, fuck!” I exhale.

“You ever been fucked in the ass before?” he asks as he starts to press his throbbing head into my hole.

I shake my head and bring a finger knuckle up to my mouth to bite down on.

Finch slaps me hard on the ass cheek and I let out a yelp. Then he starts to force his cock inside me. The initial pain surges through my body and I moan loudly, still biting down on my knuckle. He is about halfway in when he retracts and re-enters me fully this time. My toes curl and clench.

“Give me those hands,” he says, reaching down to them. “I want to hear you moan properly,”

He grabs both my arms and hoists them behind my back and holds them together at the wrists as he starts to slip in and out of my asshole. I groan so loud. I can feel him in my vagina, rubbing against the other side of my walls. He spits again and I feel it land on the small of my back as he slaps my ass cheeks a handful of times. Still holding onto both wrists, he forces himself as deep inside me as he can and grabs a handful of my hair with his other hand, yanking my head backwards. I can’t help but whimper as a tear of pleasure rolls down over my cheek bone.

The initial feeling has subsided and the rush of being sodomised almost makes me cum. I just keep on groaning. Finch drags his hand from between my shoulder blades, down to my waist curves and he starts to slow. Then he stops.

“I just want to take this in,” he says.

He begins caressing me gently and rubbing my soft skin on the palms of his hands.

“You look so fucking good right now,” he mutters.

“You’re making me feel so lucky and so dirty right now,” I say.

He slides himself from out of my asshole and I sigh with a low moan. He turns me over and gets down between my legs. Before I have time to adjust he has his head buried between my thighs and he’s eating me out. I can feel his tongue devouring my sweetness and hear him slurping to taste me. I grab the back of his head and throw mine back, letting him ravish me.

The build starts to rise and I can feel myself about to cum again. I bring my hands up to my chest and hold on to my breasts. I lift my legs up and place my feet on his shoulders. He grabs hold of my little feet with his big hands. That’s when I start to feel myself exploding. My thighs shake as an eruption fills my insides fizzing and spasming. I cry out that I am cumming.

“You’re making me cum, Finch. Baby, you’re making your little slut cum,” I squeal.

He wildly swirls his tongue around my swollen clit. The sensitivity is too much and I push his head away as he stands up and drags me off the bed by the wrist.

My eyes are spinning and I am still reeling from the orgasm as he gets me down on my knees and grabs me by the head, thrusting a few fingers inside my mouth he puts pressure downwards onto the back of my tongue, I gag and feel a saliva bubble rise into my throat as he hooks the inside of my cheek. He pulls my spittle out with his fingers and messily grabs me by the face, spreading it into my skin as he pulls my hair and head, turning my face upwards to look at him as he bends down to me.

“Listen to me. Open your mouth,” he says.

I do, dutifully and with that he spits into my mouth and slaps me hard across the cheek.

“I’m going to cum in your fucking mouth, okay?” he insists.

I lick our spit off my lips and smile, nodding.

Finch grabs my head and hair with a harsh grip and forces his throbbing cock down my throat. The fatness of his head felt bigger than ever. He thrusts himself deep down into my throat a few times and I audibly gag on him. The tears start to stream from my eyes and I look up to him.

“Yeah, oh fuck me,” he groans.

I feel his hot spunk burst onto my tongue, sliding down my throat as he holds himself in my mouth, continuing to shoot more he lets out a continuous moan as I try to swallow. I accept all of him inside my mouth and feel him spasm and pulse around my commissures.

He starts to slide out of my mouth carefully as the last few drips of his seed dribble from the slit of his cock onto my lower lip and fall down onto my breast. He gazes down at me with a look of exhausted pleasure as I gleefully show him his seed in my mouth and swallow his cum. It’s a lot.

I immediately start to laugh uncontrollably as he catches his breath and places his hands on his knees to recover. I can’t believe it has happened again.

“I can’t believe I just got to do that,” he says to me with a laboured laugh.

“Me neither,”

Finch offers me his hand which I take as he helps me to my feet. I walk back into the bathroom and run the tap, throwing the water over my face and into my mouth, catching a look at myself in the mirror I can see that my cheeks are beginning to blotch slightly from where he has slapped me. He follows behind me. His hand softly brushes down the arch of my back and meets my bum cheeks. He caresses me briefly before he starts to redress himself. I grab my towel from the radiator and wrap myself.

“The fact that I have to get back there is unfair,” he says, as he buttons his shirt back up.

“I know,”

It was true. However, I couldn’t help but feel that the finite time and spontaneity of these encounters was the fuel that made it even work at all. As I had thought to myself earlier, there was simply no way a relationship with us two was ever in the realm of possibility and I was actually happy with that. But a niggle of this being the last time anything like this would happen was driving me to distraction.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough,” he says, now tying his shoes.

“I liked it. I wouldn’t have asked for it if I didn’t, would I? I enjoy being treated like a dirty slut. It’s a fucking thrill.”

“Please, if you keep talking like that I’m going to get hard again,” he laughs, “It certainly is a thrill. I don’t think my body will ever recover from this excitement.”

I laugh and he stands up from the toilet seat. I hand him his wallet.

“You better get back there quick,” I say.

“I’ll just say it took me a while to find it,”

“Smart!” I say, sarcastically.

Finch reaches out and runs his thumb across my cheek, down to my lips and strokes my lower lip from side to side a few times.

“Thank you,” he utters.

---

He had left a few hours ago. I had made a meal to eat and had returned to my room and now found myself lying stomach first on the bed with my feet in the air behind me. I listened to my iPod, daydreaming of what we had done together and how absolutely insane it was. I had not heard anything from my boyfriend.

I was startled suddenly out of this daydream as my door slowly jarred open. My Mum stood in the doorway and said something but I couldn’t hear because of my music. I pulled the earbuds out.

“What?” I ask.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asks.

“I actually do yeah.”

“Yeah, I can see that you’ve got a bit more colour in your face!”

“I had a bath and got some rest,” I say.

Of course, there was colour in my face, it was still shining from the smacks I had asked Finch to give me.

“The boys have gone to bed so we’re all going to have a drink downstairs before bed if you want to join us?”

I think about it. Not knowing whether me being around him would somehow alert everyone to what we had done together. Fuck it, I think.

“Sure, okay!”

Downstairs in my pyjamas and dressing gown, I follow my mum into the living room where Finch sits on the sofa with Claire next to him, her legs strewn over his.

“Hello, did you have a good time?” I ask, throwing the question to anyone in the room willing to answer.

“Yeah, it was nice. Really good food. Are you feeling any better then?” Claire asks.

“Yeah, thanks!”

“Yeah you look a lot better!” she says.

I try as hard as I can not to even acknowledge Finch’s presence.

“What do you think of this divvy leaving his wallet behind then?” Claire asks.

“Oh, I was upstairs asleep probably I didn’t hear anything,” I say, a blankly confused expression suddenly falls over Claire’s face and my stomach plummets.

“But you said she was in the kitchen getting a drink?” she asks, turning to Finch. Before he can even reply I immediately jump on it.

“No, yeah. I mean. I was. It’s err, I was in there getting a drink but then after that I went up and fell asleep so I forgot he was even here to be honest.” There’s a little disturbance in the air for a brief moment.

“Oh, right okay!” she says.

Just then my Mum comes in with a vodka and lemonade for me.

“Just a little drop in there for you!” she says to me.

I spend the majority of the time sitting in silence as they talk between themselves, only laughing in acknowledgement of a joke or nodding in agreement when necessary. I continue to avoid looking at Finch and he does similar with me. After a while, it almost felt like the mutual nonchalance was in itself a tell-tale sign that something was up, but that was just my brain overthinking everything.

I don’t know what it was but all of a sudden, an urge over powered my brain and I knew immediately that I was going to act on the thought as soon as it came.

I excused myself and announced that I was going to bed but seconds later found myself in Finch’s bedroom. Rooting through his bedside drawers I find a handful of business cards with his personal business email on them. I swiftly take one and skitter off to my bedroom.

I grab my phone and go to the bathroom once again. I strip off my dressing gown and pyjamas, grab my lipstick off the side and write in the mirror onto my chest “your slut”.

I take a quick selfie, pouting lips and all and return hastily to the bedroom, grabbing the business card. I email the image to him. My heart skips as the thing sends.

An hour and a half later, at about half one in the morning, everyone has gone to bed and the whole place is quiet. But I can’t sleep. I just keep thinking. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I grab my phone and send a text to Finch.

“Check your business mail,” is all I write and hit send. A little bit of time goes by and then my phone lights up.

“Sweet Christ.” is all he sends back.

“Kitchen.” I write.

I get out of bed and throw my dressing gown on. Carefully and quietly I tip-toe down the landing and head downstairs. In the kitchen I wait in the dark at the breakfast bar, hoping he will come.

I only wait two minutes and then he appears just as quietly as me.

“Business email, genius,” he utters.

I chuckle quietly.

“Only one day left,” I whisper.

“I know.”

“Be a shame to waste it, right?”

“Absolutely. But, what can we do?”

“I have an idea,” I whisper.