Pleasantly surprised

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Adult Romance  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

she's more than he bargained for but he's not complaining

Niamh looked at her watch. Shit ! she muttered realising she had less than an hour to get to the library, grab lunch and get back to work before her boss got back. She flicked her honey coloured hair out of her face and stepped out through the glass doors, nudging them shut with her hip. Out into that fine drizzle that's neither one thing nor another; no time to go back for a jacket now. Fixed on her goal she hurried through the busy streets clutching her books. She'd read a lot these past six months since he, since Derek had revealed what a complete prick he was and had been shown the door. Yea, sure her nights were lonely, but better that than his apology for lovemaking and complete lack of conscience when it came to knocking her friend off behind her back."Well now Heather you can bloody KEEP him she thought. Good riddance. I've got my rabbit and that doesn't talk back or leave his socks on".
 
Conor headed out into the drizzle. "Bugger this" he thought. "Bloody weather": but his growling stomach reminded him he hadn't yet eaten today and it was gone 1. Head down he hurried along, heading for the sandwich shop by remote as his mind took its usual circuitous route round a more pleasant landscape of curving thigh and dimpled arse. Horny again. He'd gone almost 6 months with just his best friend, righty.. not having time to look for company. Between his belly and his nuts he was kept busy.
 
They rounded the corner at the same time, distracted, heads down. Smack ! Books went in all directions, as they collided. "Sorry" they said simultaneously and Niamh's brow creased in frustration as she was about to let out a stream of invective regarding the doubtful intelligence and parentage of the idiot who'd blundered into her. She looked up, and a mop of red gold curls met her eye framing a decidedly handsome face. Tiny creases told her this man liked to laugh. A little shiver ran down her spine as he spoke. She was a sucker for an Irishman and his accent was like a siren call to her.
 
"I'm sorry" he said again, and bending to pick up the books "here, let me, OUCH!" Their heads cracked as they'd bent forward at the same time. Niamh let out a nervous giggle.
........................................................................................................
3 weeks later !!
........................................................................................................
Conor rubbed a circle in the steamy mirror and peered at his face. He’d never been the vain sort but he knew he scrubbed up alright. Women had told him the combination of his dark red hair and blue eyes was attractive. Mates joked and called him a handsome bastard. All he saw was the same face he always did .. the slight cleft in his chin, just like his dad’s. Niamh had stroked his chin gently last time they’d kissed. A gentle touch with just one finger but it was like she’d grabbed his cock the effect it had on him. Not that she had. Grabbed him that is. Only in his mind. They’d been to the cinema .. shared popcorn, laughed at the rubbish plot and left, laughing hand in hand half way through and gone for a drink instead. They’d stayed until the barmaid gave up coughing meaningfully and actually said they had to go. He’d jumped in the cab with her, seen her home but she didn’t invite him in. Just that kiss on the doorstep while the cabbie looked meaningfully the other way, knowing he had a fare to collect. 
 
Tonight would be different. “Oh yea?” his conscience laughed back at him .. “you said that last time.. and the time before”. So far, they’d walked in the park, been to the museum and art gallery. They’d talked about themselves, about work, about their lives, about sex even but never more than a kiss, a passing caress had happened. Its not like the attraction wasn’t there. There was enough body English in their kisses to confirm that. Christ the smell of her. A mixture of her light perfume and beyond that, something he couldn’t quite identify but something uniquely her. She’d rested a head on his shoulder, she’d touched his arm, rested her hand on his thigh .. but somehow slipped away from more leaving him heavy and needful when he got home. If this didn’t change soon he’d have one bicep triple the size of the other.
 
He cleared the mirror, lathered up his face. No electric shave today, he wanted his face soft. He began with careful short strokes thinking of that first encounter. It’d been damp, cold and drizzly. She’d crashed into his life in a whirl of pale pink cashmere, no jacket and he’d been captivated on sight. Short, curvy. Ok plump but he liked his women with meat on the bone. The weather clung her sweater to her and her nipples had been so proud it’d been hard to tear his gaze away. He’d offered to buy her lunch to apologise for the calamity and to his surprise and delight she’d agreed. “You often lunch with strange blokes ?” he’d said and she’d tilted her head aside and said “no course not” ..He’d laughed and said “I could be a serial killer”. She’d arched her brows over green blue eyes and said “Ah but the chances of two serial killers lunching together are slim” and pealed her laughter at his surprised expression. 
 
“Ouch ! Careful y’eejit” He’d felt the nick; his razor snagged as he’d let his skin go slack whiledreaming of those nipples. Later.  Later he’d see them, lick them, squeeze them. He’d better be careful he could lose an ear at this rate.
 
……………………………………………………………………………………
Niamh tightened the towel on her head and regarded herself in the mirror . She’d wanted to jump Conor the day she met him but something told her no. Not this one. Play the long game. She’d got home and near run her batteries dry thinking about him. That voice. God she’d felt herself getting damp just listening to him. They’d met a few times since then. Dated. Such an old fashioned word but that’s how it’d been. They’d discussed everything from String theory to Squirrels and told each other all about their lives. She’d avoided whining about Derek. He was history. Derek crap-fuck.  He’d mentioned briefly that he hadn’t been in a relationship for half a year. He must be as frustrated as she was. Hmmm. Tonight would be the one. The first one of many she hoped. She dropped her towel and examined her body critically. A comfortable 16, she had extra flesh she wanted rid of but loved her food too much to care enough. Her thighs touched. Her belly wasn’t flat by a long shot. Her breasts weren’t huge and neither were they perky. They definitely sagged a little. She was a D cup so more than a good handful, but not the porn star proportions men seemed to want. Barbie models with thigh gaps and plastic tits nails and teeth, even plastic hair. Not that she’d had complaints but its hard to complain with a gag in. She smiled. That wasn’t something to reveal on a first time. Slowly slowly she thought. She had skills and intended to use them. 
 
She’d been to the salon the day before so there was no redness or raised skin. As she applied moisturiser over her skin, she was thinking about Conor's hands. She grazed her hands over her newly waxed mound. A light flick as she tested her lips for smoothness. Peachy. Imagined his thick fingers stroking. Yes. Tonight.
He was a substantial man. Rugby player in his past. Nothing professional, but enough as an amateur to build his thick thighs up and define his gorgeous arse and yes, she’d checked it out every opportunity. He didn’t wear his jeans sagging down to his knees like the kids did. They were both in their early thirties. Had never found the right one or the desire to settle. Not yet.
 
Conor was nervous. Nervous ! “For chrissake man you’re 34yrs old” he thought to himself as he  checked he had everything. Wallet, phone, condoms, (you never know .. it might just be the night and he was feeling lucky this time). He breathed into his palm, sniffed. He’d flossed, brushed, mouthwashed .. but wanted to be absolutely sure. He looked in the wardrobe mirror. Not too dressed up. Good jeans, clean white tee, jacket. They’d been talking about clothing and what put them off, what turned their heads. He’d polished his shoes to a shine. She liked shiny leather. “ooh, what if she’s a bit kinky ? Cor that’d be nice but maybe she’s not that way. She seems so sweet. Wonder what she’ll be like. Is she a squealer. Is she a wriggler. Mm cant wait to find out”  They were going out, but meeting at hers first. He’d ordered a cab so they could go into town.
 
Niamh’s bed looked like she’d been burgled. Piled with clothing. She stood in her bra and knickers : matching of course. Big night tonight so no grey cotton. The lace on the bra cups was a bit scratchy. At least the matching pants were comfy. Cute, but comfy .. cut high on the leg, matching green lace. She sighed. She’d tried four different things on and couldn’t decide. Looking at the clock she had an hour to go. Make up was done. She didn’t overdo it. It looked awful when it slid off mid sex. Better have it played down now. She’d curled her hair, then piled it up loosely into a messy up-do. Two pins and it’d tumble down at the right moment. She picked up the leather skirt. Too obvious for tonight. She put it back on the hanger. She put the linen pants back too. Too librarian.  Looking at the pile of clothes, she pulled out a navy skirt. It was a little longer than most wore them at the moment, but clung to her bum and made her walk with a wiggle. Yes. This one. She didn’t want to risk flashing the tops of her hold ups. She ummed and ahhed at several tops. Gave up and chose an emerald silk cami and slid it over the bra. No straps showing, no peek of lace ? Good. A white button up cardigan went over the cami but she only fastened the bottom four leaving a little triangle of emerald silk showing. That worked. Her silver necklace held a simple jewel which weighted the chain just above her cleavage. She turned and looked at the back .. and front again .. Done. Shoes .. navy heels. Bag. Tipping it up on the bed it disgorged its contents: mirror, lipstick, comb, perfume, tissues, wipes, tic tacs, oyster card, sweeteners, three pound coins and some copper, a shopping list .. She needed to be ready for plan B. She put the tissues, wipes, mirror, lipstick, comb and perfume back and added her purse. She hoped she wouldn’t need any of it if things went her way.  She quickly cleared all the clothes off the bed and put them back in the wardrobe. She shook the duvet and looked around the room. Everything was away. She was a tidy as you go girl. 
Stepping out of the bedroom she stopped.. went back in, put the low bedside lamp on and left again closing the door. She put her bag on the chair by the door and waited. Fifteen minutes. Calm. Breathe. 
Smiling at her reflection, she winked and lifted her skirt. She slid one finger beneath the silk of her knickers, stroking that peachy softness and imagining Conor doing the same later. Reaching deeper she gathered a little of her juice and dabbed it behind her ears and into the dip of her throat.. The only perfume she’d need tonight would be this.
She straightenedher skirt and jumped as the bell rang. He was early !
 
She opened the door with a smile, “you’re early” she said “cab’s waiting he said, I didn’t want to be late”
“Could you step in a moment while I grab my bag ?” “Sure” he said .. and stepped through. She turned to him with her bag in her hand. Looked him up and down .. as he was doing the same appraisingly .. “Mmm” they said at the same time .. “You look good/nice”. A laugh.. and they drew in to kiss. He loved the way she yielded when he held her. She touched the side of his chin with a finger again. He caught a scent .. the same scent he got from her the other day ..and she kicked the door closed kissing him again. They came up for air an indecent moment later and she said softly “let the cab go, we can call another”
 
He gave an involuntary chuckle. Niamh raised one eyebrow. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her again. She tasted of rain, of fresh air, of something sweet and musky and just oh so good. He cupped one soft round buttock as she dropped her handbag to the floor, bringing both hand to cup his face. She kissed him back like she was drinking from the holy  grail. He squeezed and pulled her in close as he could, her soft breasts crushing against him. She moaned very gently and it vibrated on his lips. He walked her backwards a little until she was leaning on the wall and he broke the kiss, tilting her chin up with his hand, looking into her eyes. Her pupils were large and she was smiling back at him. “Well now” she said, humour in her voice. You’ve got me. What are you going to do with me ?” “Anything you choose” he said and hoping she’d say “stay in and fuck me” As if reading the words he’d thought she whispered, “we could stay right here if you’d like to..I’ve got wine in the fridge.  “Yes” ! The inner Conor pulled his shirt over his head and ran round the living room in a goal celebration He shoots, he SCORES”
 
"Mind if I take my jacket off ? he said
“Oh do: make yourself comfortable. I’ll bring the wine. Would you like some music ? Have a nose on my ipod. We like most of the same stuff.” 
He picked up and started scrolling through the playlists. All the music they’d discussed was in there but some other bands and music genres he would never have associated with her. A bit of Vagner, Thomas Tallis, Anuna !  She’d not mentioned them. He was a fan of the Irish choir but perhaps not for tonight. What’s this .. Nine Inch Nails ? Disturbed ? Placebo ? Was she a closet goth ? He smiled and found  a Neil Young live album and clicked the device.
 
She came in with glasses, a bucket with ice and a bottle in it. Bobbing back into the kitchen, he watched the way her skirt clung to her bum cheeks as she walked. Juicy. That was the word for it. Delicious. All the words he associated with her were edible. He hoped he’d be “eating” her very soon.  She brought a tray. Ah the minx. She’d prepared. Breads, olives, tomatoes, oil, cheese.  “just a simple bite” she said “for now”
“Ah jeez I’ll give her a simple bite” he thought. 
 She sat down beside him, her tight skirt riding up a little. She leaned forward to pour the wine and her breasts pushed the cami forward giving him a beautiful view. Like porcelain eggs in a green silk casket.
They raised their glasses. Slainte ! She said. Slainte Mhaith he replied with a grin and they took a sip. It was a white burgundy. Crisp and fruity with the scent of pears and citrus. She knew her wines. She licked her lips. He found himself staring at her mouth. “what IS the matter with you man ? you’re like a 12 yr old.” the inner Conor said. She speared an olive, popping it into her mouth and he continued to stare as she closed her lips around it. How could something so innocent be so damned sexual ? He wanted to lick the brine off her lips. “Jesus Conor” he thought “you’ll be creaming on the sofa next”
 
They chatted, sipped, nibbled.. chatted some more. She’d kicked her shoes off by now and tucked her legs up behind her. He was feeling less anxious and more relaxed as the wine softened the edges. As long as that was the only thing it softened. The track harvest moon came on. “Oh I love this so much” she said. He stood, and pulled her to her feet. “Then let’s have a dance” he said and they folded into eachother, swaying with the music. She sighed deeply, and her hands were stroking his broad back, moving down to his waist. Less firm than he used to be .. he laughed and said “checking out my chonk” “Hey she said, I like the way you feel. Besides, Im hardly Kate Moss”. “No, he said seriously, you are definitely not which is why Im here. You’re beautiful”. They kissed, slowly, but an urgency underlying the casual meeting of lips. She worked the tee shirt out of his jeans and her hands were on his skin now, stroking , rubbing. She had a wonderful touch. He braved it, and opened another button on the white cardigan. She made no protest. He opened another, and another, until she popped the bottom one herself. Easing the soft wool off her shoulders, he breathed in her scent, stronger now as her skin was warm. He found himself so aroused just by her smell. It wasn’t a commercial perfume. It was natural, like vanilla, or cinnamon, or a mix of the two.
 
 
He slid his hands along her arms, over her shoulders until he came to those creamy mounds. Cupping through the silk, he rubbed his thumbs across the nubs of her nipples and that gorgeous little moan escaped again. She was sensitive then, as each time he did, her breath caught. He “filed” that information and explored, easing the straps down on the cami so that it slid off. Her bra had pushed up her breasts in onfferig, a little silver chain just pointing the way. He kissed his way down her neck and her knees dipped. Another point to “file” away he thought, as he worked his way with tiny kisses to that cleft. Her hands pulled his tee shirt up and over his head, and as it hit the floor, came back to his belt, touching the dip where his hips met the fabric, making him squirm a little. He found the zipper on her skirt, and it joined the tee shirt and cardigan on the floor. She stood in her underwear and stockings now .. and he stepped away for this first, precious look at her. He sucked his breath in at the sight before him. She was all curve, no straight lines to her at all. Perfect for him. Her eyes were heavy now with desire. “Shall we move into the bedroom ?” she asked but he was already on his way, watching the incredible jiggle of her bum before him. He wanted to bury his face in it. He would.
 
She stopped as they entered the room. “The glasses, she said.” “Ill get them” Conor said and went back for the rest of the bottle and the glasses. She was sitting on the bed now, knees up and he could see the way her knickers dipped in the middle around her plumpness. He’d never forget this. His first sight of her, wanting him. He placed the wine on the nightstand and she said “I think you’re a tad overdressed” .. come here !
He didn’t need asking twice. He’d quickly pulled off his socks when he went back for the wine. He came to stand before her, and she looked up the length of his body as she reached for the belt, slowly taking it out of the loops, dropping it to the floor and unbuttoning his jeans. He was straining against the fabric, hard and ready. She took her time. She pushed them down, taking his boxers with them leaving him springing up against his belly; a wet trail on the head.  She licked a finger and traced the track, picking up his juice and tasting it. “Mmm yummy” she said, going back for more. Her fingers barely touched him, making his cock bob in readiness as she approached, but she didn’t grasp it: not yet. She held him back with the flat of one hand on his belly, and kept that slow circle of his glans going, coating him with finger and thumb until he thought he’d lose it.
The way she looked at him was enough to make it happen. Her touch was incredible. She knew exactly where and when. She used her thumb to slide under his frenulum and her fingers over the head. It felt like a tongue. He groaned and closed his eyes wanting to touch her but not wanting her to stop this delicious torture.
She drew him towards her now and said “lie on the bed” He obeyed without question, she knew what she was about. He had an idea she’d be good but oh god she was so good. He lay back and closed his eyes, and felt her climb up, kneeling over him. He daren’t look. Not yet. He wanted nothing to break this spell she’d cast on him. He felt her hair tickling him as she got closer; she’d let it down. Then her warm breath. Oh Christ he’d go if she took him in her mouth, he knew he would. “no no no no Anne Widdecombe, Margaret Thatcher” he thought .. trying to ease himself back from the brink “Bella Emberg, Hattie Jaques” .. oh god she was going to .. but No ! Her hair continued to tease as her finger and thumb found him again but nothing more. He settled again, as she continued to explore the length of him. He opened his eyes now and watched her work, clearly enjoying her task. He loved a woman who enjoyed giving head. He’d had some good ones in his time. Niamh, he thought, was the best yet.
 
 
She started to stroke along his shaft, still not holding him, but just moving her hands over him, momentarily cupping his balls, feeling the weight of them, following down his seam. He bucked as she continued, tracing his anus. He wasn’t gay ! What was she playing at ? But she said “shhh” and continued back and forth, touching here, and there, and it was warm, and absolutely wonderful. He closed his eyes again and enjoyed the sensations she was bringing, as her silky hair tickled and teased along with her. Then there was nothing .. no hands, no hair. He was about to open his eyes when suddenly her tongue met his glans where her fingers had started, licking a circle, following where her hands had been, all the way down and around, even THERE and back to the top again. Light flicks until she took just a little of him in her mouth and hummed. Oh Lord, not yet not yet not yet … the vibration was incredible. Where had she learnt this ?
 
 
Her hands came around him now, grasping him firmly, and as she licked, worked him very slowly. He was dripping now, sure he would cum but each time he got near he backed off. She KNEW.
 
Niamh was enjoying herself. She was one of those women who LOVED to suck cock. Some don’t. Some do. That’s just the way it is. Niamh had been told she was good and she was. She particularly loved to find a man’s “tell”. She could guess by the way his balls contracted, and other things how close he was. She loved the taste of precum, and loved to use it as a tool for teasing. She noticed everytime Conor got close, his feet did this funny little kick out. “I bet even HE doesn’t realise that” she thought as she continued to feast on him. He groaned as she took more of him in her mouth, and more, until she was down the full length of him, just closed around him, holding him there against her throat. She didn’t gag. Not until she was moving again and the little noise it made just drove him crazy. It made him feel like he had the biggest cock. Sure it wasn’t small, but it wasn’t pornstar proportions either .. but the way she treated it made him feel like Rocco Siffredi.
 
She watched him near and once again backed off. She edged him until his breath grew ragged. He lost all sense of time. His head was spinning and it wasn’t the wine. He was drunk on her. She looked up at him and said “lets take a little break shall we” and wriggled back up the bed to lay beside him. “You are incredible” he said. “Thank you” she said and giggled .. reaching for her wine glass.  He moved and knocked her, and a splash of wine ran down her breasts.  “Let me” he said .. and leaned forward to lick the sweet liquid from that peachy cleft. He reached behind her and unclipped the bra. She was magnificent. “Oh fuck what a rack” he thought as he cupped them and lifted them towards his mouth. Her nipples were pale, rosy pink:her aureolae large and elongated, her nipples stiffening as he took them in his mouth one at a time. She gasped as he sucked, and he pushed her breasts together and tried to get them both in at once, making her sigh. She was clearly very sensitive there. As he suckled and pinched and rolled, she wriggled and moaned, and he stopped to kiss her again, tasting his salt on her lips, then back to her beautiful nipples.
 
 
Her breathing got faster until she was panting, shallowly. He thought she couldn’t possibly cum from just that could she ? Niamh was loving how he worked her tits. Her one big complaint with men had always been that they gave em a quick squeeze, then headed straight down. She’d told Derek .. this was the key to getting her off. Without this, it just wasn’t going to happen. He'd ignored her and just pumped till he jumped. She realised with a smile, Conor wasn’t going to be one of those.
 
Relaxing a little, she spread her legs as his hands moved down. He scooted until he was kneeling at her feet. “just where I like you” she thought with an inward giggle. He looked up at her, that knowing look on her face, and said “now you”. She simply nodded and watched as he parted her thighs yet further, pushing her feet up to spread her knees. He could feel the heat rising off her as he neared, her knickers dark where she’d grown wet. He took a deep breath in and closing eyes realised. That smell. That smoky, sweet, musky scent was HER. He dipped his head, glad of his close shave, kissing her inner thighs and nuzzling through the silk and lace. She rewarded him with a little wriggle. He licked through the cloth, and along the elastic, and then darted underneath. She tasted amazing. All of those good culinary smells and the sweet clean freshness. She was bare. She’d removed every last whisper of hair though he didn’t mind either way. He didn’t like a woman too hairy, but trimmed was ok. Nobody wanted a hairball. That’s why he trimmed close himself.
 
He licked and tasted and probed and she raised her hips towards him as he  swiped across her clit. He hooked his thumbs into her panties and pulled them down and off and there she was before him. She was fairly neat. Her inner lips flared slightly out to protrude like a lily, narrowing back and disappearing between her outer lips. He took them in his mouth, one at a time and sucked. He licked along the length of her as she had him, and she sighed. Cupping his hand slightly, he pushed his first two fingers just slightly into her depth, finding her slick, and continued to lick as he gently beckoned towards himself. He could feel a little raised area just an inch inside her, roughened, on the front wall. He very lightly stroked his fingers towards him and a little splash of liquid  gushed over his hand. He’d tried this before but hadn’t got this result. He hadn’t found that rough spot before .. but she was all here, all ready for him. He was learning on the job dammit. He sucked at her nodule and worked his fingers, not roughly probing, just adding pressure downwards while his fingers  slowly moved. She was panting harder now.  Her hand came down and tangled into his hair and she pulled him, her voice hoarse as she whispered, come here ..
He moved back up and she seized his hand , licking her own juice off it. She kissed him, and stopped saying “I love to taste myself on a man”
 
She pushed him back and climbed over him. Lowering herself gently down, she ran his cock along her pussy lips, holding him and teasing herself with him. He was hard again in an instant, having subsided a little while he worked on her. She pushed him into her and he went to thrust but she backed .. “Uh oh, not yet my lovely. No you don’t!” She put just the first inch of him inside and leaning forward, dropped those beautiful pendulous breasts towards his mouth. He needed no further instruction. She dipped and allowed him to move just a little inside her as he sucked and nipped, and she moved her hand down to rub at her clit. He could feel her contract around him as she did, and feel her juices running down as she got closer and closer herself. She edged herself the way she'd edged him. Several tiny little shallow thrusts then all of a sudden she sank down on him taking him fully into herself, clenching tightly around him. How could she be so wet yet so tight ? She squeezed, using her pelvic floor muscles to “milk” him. He rose to meet her and she backed away again, going back to those little tiny dips. She sat up straight now, her breasts quivering as she rode him in this weird little dance .. dip dip dip plunge. It was fantastic. Hed been ridden. He wasn’t a boy, but never quite like this. He was learning things tonight.
 
He could take no more. “Please, let me fuck you” he said. She was off him. He was bewildered for a moment, but she lay and spread, and invited him in. “Then fuck me” she said .. He sank into her having to hold on for a moment. “stay, stay, stay, hoolllllld shuttup Conor who dya think you are William Wallace”  The inner Conor was a wag but he was trying to be serious here. She writhed and pulled her knees up .. Oh but the view was incredible as she spread around him. That lily flower fully bloomed now, shining and pink,and as he withdrew and sunk in again, little slurps and splashes accompanied his movements. She put her feet over his shoulders,  and proceeded to rub her clit as he began to climb once more, feeling her gushing around him, the sticky wet noises urging him on as she mewed and cried out, squeezing around him. She was hot, in every way, but her face was now so flushed, and she looked at him almost in desperation. Nipples ! she said Suck my nipples. He jacked into her hard and took a nipple in his teeth. Her rubbing became frantic, and he could feel hot jets of liquid needling out over him, running down to pool on the bed. She was talking to him now, yes, yes, now, mm, like that, aah, fuck me Conor, make me cum and as she urged him further, suddenly she bucked beneath him, smacking into him with wet sounds and shuddered. He felt her pussy walls clenching and releasing around him as she went quiet, just bucking into him, and he could hold no longer. He let his load go and collapsed on her with a groan. Everything went quiet. A moment later, a little giggle escaped her. She pushed him up, and exctracated herself from him, and snuggled into his chest. She kissed him, and said “Thank you”. “That was fantastic”.  All Conor could say was “wumman”. He was done. He was exhausted. He was also very happy. If that was the first he thought ….


Submitted: December 31, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Niamh Greenblood. All rights reserved.

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