Spontaneity

Cover by April Martinez

We've all done it. We've been out and about when the spontaneous desire for nookie comes over us and we just have to grab our significant other and head - where? Into the bushes? The car? Hmm! Or maybe a boathouse..?

Here's an unedited excerpt from the second Mr. Grey novel, Spirit from the Sky, coming soon from Liquid Silver Books...
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The sun was dropping towards the hills to the west, but the valley had soaked up enough of its warmth during the day to take the edge off the chill breeze rolling down from the peaks. Claudia shaded her eyes and looked at Martin. "Shall we take that walk? I figure we've got an hour before dark."

"An excellent idea," he said, looping his arm through hers. "Fancy a walk along the lakeshore?"

"Fine with me."

They began to stroll down the gentle gradient toward the lake. "It's beautiful country around here," she said, looking up at the surrounding hills and mountains. "Do you have anything like this near where you live?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No. London has its hills, and the views from Waterloo and the different Commons are nice on a clear day. The Kent and Sussex Downs lie to the south. Now there's a beautiful place," he said, "lots of steep rolling hills and quiet valleys full of woodlands, small farms and orchards."

She barely heard him. Something made her avoid the words back home when she'd asked the question for fear it would jinx things. As far as she was concerned, wherever Martin lived was home for her. But America was her homeland; she loved it and had never left it - yet. Would he want to set up their home in England? He must have the same kind of attachment too. It would be a wrench for either of them to leave the land of their birth. She chewed her lip. No, it was too early to talk about setting up home together, even as she knew in her heart that Martin was the love of her life. They had plenty of time. It would have to be discussed sometime, but for now they were together and it would wait. It would wait.

"It sounds wonderful," she said, realizing she'd been silent for some time. He glanced at her and smiled but said nothing. She waved at the lake. "This must be a wonderful place for swimming in the summer," she said. "Can you swim, Martin?"

"Yes; I won school certificates for the mile, both crawl and breaststroke. You?"

"I only got my qualifications for the five hundred yard breaststroke and hundred yard crawl." She shrugged. "It pains me to admit it but I never really feel comfortable in water, you know?"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, love." He gave her arm a squeeze. "Sometimes, just sometimes, it's down to a trauma suffered during a past life."

"Yeah? How come?"

"Reincarnation seems to carry a kind of imprint, which those with the right frame of mind or psychic talent can pick up on.

"A friend of mine had a real fear of heights. He couldn't even tolerate just looking out of a window at any height in a tall building. It wasn't too important until he got a job which he later discovered involved working in a tenth floor office once a month."

"Not good," she said sagely, kicking at a stone. It bounced over the ground to plop into the lake.

"No. He made excuses to put off the dreadful moment when he'd have to go into that office as long as he could, but he got so worried about losing the job he turned to me for help."

"What did you do?"

"I got in touch with an expert in regression therapy who took care of him. She regressed him to a previous life as a seaman in early Victorian times. This man was sent up a mast to repair storm damage but the damage was worse than it appeared. There was some kind of accident and he was trapped, suspended by a rope over an awful drop for some time before he could be rescued. That impression stayed with him into his next life."

"Ouch! I can understand that. Was your friend cured?"

"Oh yes. Once he understood the reason for his fear, he was able to tackle it with the help of a little hypnotherapy. He's as right as rain, now."

"Cool!" She looked along her shoulder at him. "Okay, Martin, you now know one of my fears. 'Fes up! What phobias lurk in your mind?"

His face took on an introspective look, and suddenly she knew instinctively that he was considering exactly what he should tell her. With a stab of guilt she realized the question of fears had more significance to a psychic medium than most people.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want, you know," she said softly. "I shouldn't have asked."

He turned and took her in his arms and kissed her. The breeze tousled their hair and seemed to carry the scent of snow. She held him close and looked into his sea-blue eyes.

"I don't mind you asking me anything, love," he said softly. "Yes, there are things I fear, which I'll tell you about in good time. For the moment…" he looked away, "I'll put my hand up and admit I'm not one hundred percent comfortable with height either."

She accepted his diversion from the topic and smiled as she slid her hands inside his coat and cupped his firm butt. "Why so?"

"I'm not sure," he said with a rueful look. "At least I'm okay in high buildings, unlike my friend." He rocked his hand. "It's steep places, high places without handrails and nice, safe firm ground that I don't like."

"Noted, lover." She kissed him. "Let's do a deal. I'll never ask you to climb a mountain high if you don't ask me to swim the river deep!"

"Deal!" he said, and kissed her. They parted a long moment later, and she could feel his arousal pressing against her.

"Now there's something I'm quite sure I understand," she whispered.

Some distance along the shore was a boathouse and a jetty. They made their way hand-in-hand toward it, of one mind and purpose.

Martin pushed open the door and peered inside. An odor of damp and pondweed met their noses, the smell dissipating as the breeze blew through the semi-enclosed structure. Beyond the open end lay the lake, cold and gray-blue in the afternoon light. A yacht was drawn up to the short boardwalk with a green canvas cover stretched over it and pegged down. With a glance back at the resort buildings in the distance he drew her inside and pushed the door closed.

She melted in his arms as he embraced her, her warm breath soft on his skin as she kissed his throat. Sliding his hands inside her coat, he reached down to cup and squeeze her firm butt. Claudia leaned back against the wall and brought her legs up to entwine them about his waist.

"I could get used to this!" she murmured.

"Mmm, so could I!" he said, kissing her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close, as he ran his hands over her body, feeling the supple play and give of her breasts under her heavy sweatshirt. His cock was tight inside his pants and the sensation was growing more uncomfortable by the second.

"Feel the need for release, lover?" she whispered in his ear.

"I do!" he replied with a soft moan. "God, I'm about ready to explode!"

"Let me down and I'll give you a blow," she said, unwrapping her arms and lowering her legs.

His cock gave an extra hard twitch at her words and he released his hold. Standing, she turned him around until they'd exchanged positions and he now stood with his back to the wall. Kneeling, she unzipped his denims and slipped her hand inside the inviting gap. He felt her long fingers seeking for his cock; her touch was cold but it gave an extra little thrill which made him gasp.

"Martin?" He blinked and looked down at her. She wore a mischievous smile. "This time I'm not going to spit!"

"That's…wonderful!" he managed to say, and she winked and drew his cock from inside his pants.

Her fingers closed around it and drew back his foreskin with a practiced motion. He felt the first delicate touch of her tongue-tip on the extreme end of his cock, a gentle dab as she licked away the trickle of pre-cum that emerged as the pressure came off it.

Then she engulfed him in a way that had thrilled him since she'd first done it for him in New York, only days back but seemingly a lifetime ago. Her lips enclosed his shaft and he could feel her tongue running all over and around it.

*

Martin's manhood filled her mouth, touching the back of her throat. His taste, his scent filled her mind, and she held his butt with both hands as she worked to pleasure him. She cast a glance upwards and his face was a picture of sensual enjoyment. His eyes were half closed, two slits of bright blue that looked down at her and he smiled and caressed her hair. Her pussy surged with warmth.

She bobbed her head and sucked him with a gentle rhythm, drawing her teeth over his rigid shaft, scraping his skin and making him shiver convulsively. The heavy purple head throbbed in her mouth, and she could taste the bittersweet pre-cum on her lips and tongue. There was no-one around; she could take her time and pleasure her man as much as he – or she – could stand.

"I want to do something for you," he said softly, his voice strained.

"Later, Martin," she said with a smile as she released her hold, "but don't worry. Your pleasure is my pleasure." She stroked his cock, feeling the moisture of her saliva on the tight skin, loving the warmth, the solidity of him. "Ready for a little more?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh yes!" he said, and laughed softly. "Damn, but I love you!"

"I love you too! Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to have my mouth full for a while!"

Keeping her lips tight and moist, she drew him slowly into her mouth, simulating the feel of her pussy and stimulating him so he groaned anew. Setting to with a moderate rhythm she slid his shaft in and out, almost to the point of dropping free of her lips, before plunging deep into her throat once more.

Martin began to shudder, and she could hear his breath hoarse in his throat. Drawing back briefly, she said "don't fight it, lover!"

"Okay," was all he could say.

He was so fired up, so ready to spend. She swallowed him once more, striving to take him all inside. He gasped, jerked, and clasped her head between his strong hands. She had time to take a deep breath before his cum exploded into her throat, filling it with his hot musky essence as his cock throbbed and convulsed between her lips, the boathouse echoing with his cries of release.

"Oooohhh godddd!" he gasped, as his wits returned. "Oh, blimey, Claudia!"

She swallowed his cum with relish, savoring the taste as she stood up and held him close. His arms enfolded her once more and he held and kissed her ardently. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me!" he whispered.

"I bet you say that to all the girls you seduce in boathouses," she chuckled.

Martin stroked a strand of hair away from her eyes. "Only gorgeous redheads by the name of Claudia Mackenzie," he said.

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So where was the most unusual place you've ever satisfied the urge? No intimate details required, just the location! ;) The weirdest/most wonderful answer gets a free download of Mr. Grey and the Hotel Ghosts. Just say 'nookie' somewhere in your post if you'd like to take part...