Thursday 18th of April

Fatigue is more than tiredness. It weighs you down, drags you further under until you feel weighted by stones to the bottom of life’s seabed. Even when you sleep you are still tired on waking, and it seems like while the rest of the world gets on and moves on you are held in this stationary purgatory.
This is how Daisy feels on Thursday morning, the 18th of April 2019. And she cannot feel like this today. There is too much to do, too much to organise. On Friday she has planned with her sister an adventure to the seaside and she must be organised and prepared, ready to be both part of the way driver and puppy mummy to the dogs that they will be taking with them. Her one-year-old puppy has never been to West Wittering and with such lovely weather planned it seems like the perfect excursion for Bank Holiday Friday.
There is currently a coolness to the early mornings, and by getting up earlier, even if it exhausts her further, fewer people to bump into on the common mean that her puppy won’t spend too much of the time diving off to be sociable. If ever there was a dog echoing human life, her dog is. She reminds Daisy of her when she used to go out drinking in her youth, as she has that unrestrained enthusiasm for introducing herself to everyone, dog walker, non-dog walkers, dogs and anything else that she comes across. Although she jumps less, she is still a law onto herself so Daisy relishes the almost deserted woodland, now starting to go green as the burnt toffee browns of winter start to disappear away.
After that, she ventures to the supermarket to get food for tonight, making sure to use hand sanitizer on the shopping cart rail, and avoid touching things unnecessarily. On her return home, she books a doctor’s appointment as there are some funny hard lumps under her arm and she needs to try and sort out her medication prescriptions which have confused her totally with their irregular fashion of delivery by the local pharmacist, but that is quite another story.
Once this, her morning of tasks is completed, she checks the house over to try and make sure that it is presentable. It’s a beautiful house but is showing it’s age, and from what Mr Unavailable has said he lives in a six-bedroom small country pile, with next door neighbours who are millionaires so it’s a stark contrast to here. This lived in family relic of her parents. The walls hold the memories of laughter and tears, and now on the market to be sold Daisy will miss it terribly.
Time ticks on and she starts to prepare the dinner of hamburgers and the accompaniments she has planned. The new recipe she found has excited her with its mention of ‘miso’ which she definitely doesn’t have, and sausage meat which she does. A fifty-fifty split is complimented by mustard and a little Worstechire sauce. The patties are made and dusted with flour sitting neatly in lines in the fridge, covered with a slither of cellophane when eventually he arrives with a knock and saunters in the side door. His tall frame is silhouetted against the dying light outside and her world changes.
Normally so calm and collected, she becomes a girl, all giggles and nervous smiles. She wishes she could relax more, but it is such an odd feeling to be in the company of someone she feels so attracted to. To have him, in such close proximity to her. Every moment is precious, and she treasures the time they have alone together because honestly she just doesn’t know how long they have.
Her jokey text about ‘not worrying if he hadn’t anything to bring’ and if he wanted wine ‘there was Tesco or the Co-Op’ has led to him coming in coming in with a bottle of Co-Op Chablis and some Prosecco Truffles. She grins when he presents these to her, and quickly finds a wine cooler and ice cubes for his wine, which he starts to quaff quickly. As she continues to slice and season, he takes a seat and it becomes apparent that Mr Unavaiable is also the sort of man who has a pair of socks for his boots, and another pair for wearing indoors. It’s these little eccentricities that endear her to him, despite her efforts not to care. Daisy has made valiant efforts to prepare most of the dinner already, mixing, chopping, but the fatigue is heavy on her. She doesn’t want him to know until the food is on the table, but it’s a huge disappointment to her that it won’t be up to its normal high standard. There is fun banter between them, ‘chit chat’ about his work, his positive meeting, how finally he is being taken seriously, and how this is his time. Soon his company will be taking off and he will be able to take on freelancers, and then…
Then he comes over to her, and while her back is to him, his arms snake around her, pulling her tight and close, and she leans into him as he nuzzles her neck. Then he turns her around, leans down and forward and there lands on her lips that sweet feeling of his soft lips, sweet from the wine, against hers, and then he kisses her. She melts. It is probably pheromones because he doesn’t wear cologne, his scent, a mixture of tobacco, and whatever he washes himself and his shirts in somehow drives her wild. Her skin is alight with goosebumps, and she involuntarily shivers as she leans into him and grinds her hips into him, and feeling him start to harden within those expensive navy jeans of his. Long muscular arms slide around behind her and down into her oversized denim shorts, down into the soft black cotton of her knickers, and he starts to touch her. She melts a little more and pushes closer to him, and his crisps, light blue pinstripe shirt, with that tantalizing button undone at the neck, that she desperately wants to undo. Their kisses are those of two people who really do like each other. Who whether the world intended them to come together or not, are in each others company and want to be in it more intimately. She has prepared dinner, but he pushes her out the door and encourages her upstairs where he throws himself on to the quilt and pulls her on top of him. The kissing continues and the shirt is lost, so are the trousers and there he is, naked and her still clothed.
“Striptease!” he teases her, or so she thinks, but no he actually seems to want it, or demand it?
Disappointment fills her, she has let herself down in her choice of lingerie. In her attempts ‘not to bother’ (as encouraged by her reading material), she has failed herself and him. After weeks of provocative lingerie shots, she is now in some sporting some very comfortable Sloggie Black knickers and a Victoria Secrets bra, which is perfectly presentable but hardly a showstopper. Her choice of what she thought was a perfectly reasonable blue and a white sleeveless shirt that had matched so well with her ‘holed’ grey cashmere jumper and little shorts and yet, is now, so inappropriate. The best of an awkward situation is dealt with her pointing out this is hardly the outfit for seduction. Once she is down to the skin, she stands, as confidently as she can in this new body she has worked so hard to get and surveys him, trying to gage him, and exhude as much confidence as she can before climbing onto the bed and on top of him.
He has an unnerving ability to arouse her. His touch on her skin makes her skin tingle and she writhes under him, pushing herself into him, their bodies entwining into one heaving mass of pleasure. Something he does with his tongue and then his fingers, stroking her inside, making her so wet she is embarrassed.
“Am I making you squirt?” he enquires, and she is too ashamed or the fluid everywhere, to respond.
Like an explorer, he has a way of finding her sweet spots, and although she isn’t having orgasms, her eyes are doing that weird flickery thing which is almost like a shutter and she is feeling lost in their intimacy.
They pause for him to go for a smoke and for her to regain her composure. In her wardrobe is a long purple cotton maxi skirt and a light blue and white shirt. There is no need for knickers. Downstairs she puts things away and waits for him to return. It’s so nice to have him here, so close and so relaxed. She wanted him to rest, but he says that time with her and sex is rest, so she will let that slide. He returns and soon they are kissing again and he pushes her up against the island unit turns her around and bends her over the counter so he can penetrate her. It’s another good angle and he leans forward and whispers in her ear.
“Soon I will be able to come and do this to your arse, just as deep, just as hard.”
It’s a naughty thought and it takes them both to higher levels of pleasure.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: