It had been another long boring day in the office. He had only worked late because it beat being stuck in the rush hour traffic. He had to look on the bright side. He'd got most of his back load of paper work dealt with.

Mick turned the setting up on the windscreen wipers. The rain was starting to fall heavily. The road turning treacherous. At least the roads were quiet.

As he slowly drove along the street a solitary figure loomed out of the gloom. Hunched over as it ran, it tried to dodge the puddles with varying degrees of success. After completing so much detested paper work he was in a generous mood.

Pulling over next to the figure he rolled down the passenger window.

"Can I offer you a lift" Mick cheerfully asked. As only the dry can.

The figure paused, looked around then looked into the car.

Mick thought the figure was going to decline. Understandable in this day and age.

The figure reached out, opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. As the door closed Mick eased back out into the traffic stream. While Mick waved his thanks to an accommodating driver, the shadowy figure pulled back its hood.

"Thank you."

At the sound of the voice, Mick turned to the figure. Revealed by the hood was the slightly elfinesque face of a mid twenties female.

"No problem," Mick replied "Where are you heading, or can I drop you off at a tube station?"

"Well," She smiled "I live at Wood End, near the Target. Do you know it?"

Mick laughed, "I sure do, I live in Roxeth."

She looked round in surprise, "Well that's a turn up for the books"

Mick peered out at the weather, "It's only a few minutes out of my way, but with this weather I'm sure I can make an exception."

"Oh, you are so kind and gallant sir!"

"Steady," He flashed his hand "I'm married with kids you know"

"And?"

"And, I'm almost old enough to be your father. Did you have to be so wet, you're steaming up my windows."

"Hang on a moment." She patted down her jacket, "Nope, I must have forgotten my hairdryer"

"It's all right. Its stopped raining. Just stick your head out the window." They laughed and she playfully punched his side.

"I'm sorry, I'm being a bit rude. My name is Amanda by the way."

"Nice to meet you Amanda By The Way. My name's Mick."

"You're incorrigible."

"No no no, it's Mick"

"Argh" Amanda closed her eyes and lent her head back against the headrest in resignation. "And you're still married?" She turned bright red. "I'm sorry, I did not mean it to come out like that."

Mick turned and gave her a broad smile to show that no offence was taken. "Funny, the wife says something familiar." However Amanda was looking out the window, her red face strangely appealing under the orange glare of the street lights.

The rest of the journey was in silence, till she neared her house.

"If you just pull in after that blue Range Rover, that'll be fine."

Mick did as he was told. Just as she was getting out she turned round.

"Thanks for the lift Mick." She hesitated, "Fancy coming round for a meal sometime? As a thank you, it's the least I could do."

Mick was taken aback. "Well, umm, yeah, I could."

She smiled, "About 7:30 Thursday evening?"

"Err. Okay"

"Fine, see you then." With that she shut the door and headed towards a green painted door.

Mick watched her unlock the door and enter. He groaned. "What have I got myself into" he put his car into gear, released the hand brake and set off home.

At home he was, as ever, greeted by his four-year-old son. Keen to tell him about the adventures of the day. His wife, two months pregnant was more sedate. That night he agonised over whether to tell his wife about the meeting, or even if he should invite her along.

Mick had decided to completely forget about her and the date. But as Thursday got ever closer it was ever harder.

Thursday arrived and much to his shame, Mick found himself phoning home. A conveniently late meeting, he would be home late. On his way to her house he stopped off at a nearby Tescos to buy some flowers and a bottle of wine. At the checkout he could not meet the cashiers gaze.

All through the day the tension had been building in him. It was like being a teenager on his first date again. As he stood on the doorstep of the green door he was positively jumping. Wondering if she would open the door when he rang the bell. Mick pressed the buzzer. After a wait that seemed to last for ever, the door opened.

Standing in the doorway was not the six-foot muscle mountain that he had been dreading, but a rather scantily clad Amanda.

"Mick!" She stood to the side, "Come on in."

Mick had no choice but to squeeze past her to enter the house. There was a rather disconcertingly large amount of flesh on show. Amanda was wearing a gold crop bustier, covered with black lace. Displaying an appealing amount of cleavage, that he could not avoid looking down as he passed. The top stopped a good inch above her navel, which glittered revealing the presence of a piercing. Her skirt started an inch the other side of her navel and was a gold and black lace affair to match her top. The skirt was of a short length, well above the knee, displaying a well proportioned length of black nylon clad leg up to mid thigh. A plain black lace choker accentuated the frail beauty of her neck.

Amanda closed the door then gently brushed passed him. "Excellent timing, I was just about to dish. Follow me, I'll show you to the table."

As she lead the way down the well lit hall he could not help but marvel at her graceful curves. He wanted to reach out and grasp those perfect curves, as they swayed seductively under the skirt. Her brown hair fell free down her back and ended just as the gold and black lace top started. At the base of her spine, a gap existed in the small of her back, between the fabric of the skirt and the lightly bronzed flesh covering her vertebrae. As she moved, flashes of pink material could be seen in the darkness.

She led him into a spacious front room. In the middle of the room was a table that could comfortably seat four. It was set for two.

Amanda sat him down then headed back into the kitchen. Mick watched her depart. When she was out of his view, he turned his attention to the room. It was comfortably decorated but had a definite feminine slant. It was fairly obvious that no man lived here, or did so long enough to leave a mark. The stereo was basic, as was the TV and video. Money was obviously spent elsewhere. Thinking back to Amanda and her attire, it was apparent where any available cash went.

As the sound of crockery and pans emanated from the direction of the kitchen, Mick turned his gaze towards the table. He was surprised to note that though he had a knife and fork, the utensils opposite consisted of a set of chopsticks. Now that his attention was redirected towards food, he noticed a definite Oriental tang in the air.

Mick was slightly perturbed. He was not that keen on Oriental food. This was mainly down to having seen and heard to many horror stories about the cuisine. He preferred his meat in its previous guise not to have gone woof or answered to Tiddles.

Amanda came in bearing several small lidded dishes. She had no sooner placed them on the table before she was back off into the kitchen. Mick sat there wondering if he should be helping her.

Finally she sat down opposite him. Mick tried hard not stare at her breasts, prominently displayed in front of him like yet another dish.

"Help yourself" Amanda pointed at the dishes arrayed between them. Her breasts bouncing pleasingly with the gesture.

Mick wanted to help himself, food was not in the equation.

As he helped himself to the food, which he had to admit was actually quite nice, he could not but help to notice her fingers. The chopsticks seemed to emphasise the slenderness of her digits. Deftly, they manipulated the two equally slender sticks. It made him rather embarrassed to be sat there with knife and fork.

During the meal he managed to keep up the inane conversation. Trying to avoid politics, sport, work and any other social hand grenade he could think of. Finally the meal was finished and Mick made overtures to leave. Offers to help with the dishes were declined with a smile. Dishwashers were not hard to load.

Mick followed her down the hall to the door. At the door she turned to face him. Mick found himself very close to her. Almost touching. He was acutely aware again of the sight of her cleavage before him. It was making him hard. He tried to focus on her face. Her lips parted slightly.

Filled with uncontrollable desire, he stepped closer. She stood her ground. His body was pressed against hers. There was no way she could not notice his erection pushing against her stomach. With her body pressed firmly against his, there was no way he could contain his lust.

He looked at her upturned face. The slightly opened mouth. Micks resolve crumpled. He lowered his head and placed his lips against hers. No sooner had his lips touched hers than they opened, allowing his tongue to enter. It was like a gate had opened to his lust. His hands slipped round to her back, crushing her to him.

Amanda's arms encircled Mick, squeezing just as tightly. One hand travelled up to grasp the hair at the back of Micks head. Her tongue clashed fiercely against his, fighting but not repelling the invader. Their mutual passion turning more carnal Their movements more animalistic.

Micks hands travelled down from her back to grasp her firm cheeks. Fingers digging into the smooth flesh. As his hands kneaded, her skirt rose up. His hands travelled over and under the fabric, coming to rest on the smooth skin underneath. His fingers came into contact with the straps of her suspender belt. He followed the straps to the tops of her lace stockings, fingers running around the lace, before travelling back up. His finger tips headed for the valley between her cheeks, running along the thin strip of satin nestled there. Slipping under the strip of fabric, he probed the tight hole, feeling it pucker under his caress. After gently rimming her hole he moved his fingers further round, feathering her outer lips. Coating his finger tips in her moisture.

Amanda moved her mouth round to the side of his face, nibbling on his earlobe as she whispered, "Fuck me"

Mick drew back slightly "What, here? Now?"

"Yes" With that she lowered her hands and moved them round to the front, where she started to undo his belt.

Mick removed his hands from probing her cunt, and brought them round to finish undoing his trousers. Her hands moved back up to the back of his neck, drawing his head back to her awaiting mouth.

He pushed his pants and trousers to his knees, then pulled her skirt clear up to her waist. His bared erection pushed against the front material of her G-string. She ground back, desperate to have him in her.

With one hand he pulled the front aside, and moved his hips back to allow entry. Her hips followed denying him the space. Frustrated he pushed her back with his other hand. He wasn't sure who thrust first. Their hips meeting in almost painful collision.

She wrapped her arms round his neck, then lifted her feet off the ground. Wrapping her legs behind his, trying to bury as much of his length in her as possible. Off balance, Mick lent her back against the wall. With the support of the wall he was able to draw back further and thrust harder. The roughness, the violence, seemed to turn her on more. He could feel her juices running down onto his balls, soaking his pubic hair.

She was so deliciously tight, unmarred by childbirth. Her muscles rippled along his length, grasping and squeezing.

His orgasm burst along his length. The pleasure making his knees tremble. The danger of dropping her, a real possibility. He continued to thrust into her, milking his orgasm as she milked him.

Eventually she lowered her legs. The release of her weight was pleasure in itself. They stood there, still kissing, his erection still inside her, slowly softening. His hands travelled up over her front to rest against her breasts. His thumbs rubbing her nipples as he pressed his palms against her flesh. Mick could have stayed like that forever.