Chapter 3

Over the next few days, Oliver became something of a fixture.

He and George would meet up after work, for a drink, or a burger maybe, and eventually find their way back to her place. He’d offered to take her home with him, but she didn’t feel comfortable with that, so they stuck with what worked.

And what worked was mostly looking after each other in a general sense, but looking after themselves in an intimate sense. George was still figuring out where she needed to stop, but what they did do was thoroughly comfortable. Neither of them was shy or hesitant, and the orgasms were frequent and strong for them both. Ollie would never have classed himself as an exhibitionist, but he liked to perform for George, and she seemed to be born to it, as carefree as he thought possible, so long as he kept his hands-and his cock-somewhat to himself.

He was more than happy to let George do whatever she wanted though, and he frequently woke to find her knickers and her hand wrapped carefully around his erection. He loved it.

A couple of weeks went by, and Georgia had been back to see her therapist more than once. She and Ollie were in bed early on Saturday morning. They had been out to a bit of a party the night before, and while they had managed to get naked, they had both been too tired to take it any further, and fell asleep in a tangled heap. Now, in the morning light, after both of them had rushed to the bathroom, they lay on top of the covers, side by side, both on their backs.

George lifted her head, and leaned over to kiss Ollie on the mouth. “Weekends are so different with you.”

He turned his head to face her, and grinned. “Lazy, you mean?”

“Relaxed. Comfortable.”

“Idle, George.”

“Sometimes.” She reached over and took his cock, soft for a change, into her hand. “Sometimes it gets a little more active.”

He stiffened a little at her touch, and grinned again. “In the best possible way.”

“Oh,” she said, stroking still, “this isn’t the best way.”

“I’m not about to complain.”

“No.” She kissed him again, but kept stroking. “I like that.”

“I like that. You realise, even if we move on to other things, I’m always going to want you to do that. And to show me how you get off.”

“Yeah?”

He twitched. “Oh, yeah.”

“Good, because I like doing this, and I like showing you. I’m glad you’re not a lights-off kind of guy.”

“You’re gorgeous, George. I never want to turn the lights off.”

“That’s your cock talking.”

“It has a hell of a vocabulary, then.”

“That’s all we need. A talkative barometer.”

“You’re the one winding it up!”

“Yeah. Hey, wait there a minute Ollie, will you?”

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.”

“Again?”

“Oh, and leave that alone, alright? You’ll wear it out.”

“Tease.”

“Oh, come on. I’ll just be a minute, okay?” They were both grinning again. They did that a lot. Georgia climbed off the bed, and wiggled her bare ass at him, then turned her head to poke her tongue out at him. “That’s just to keep you going.”

“See?”

“I’ll make it up to you, mister. Oh, wait, it’s already up!”

He lay with his eyes closed, his cock hard and his mind on how lucky he was. She really wasn’t long at all, and he looked up to see George walking back towards him, a mischievous grin on her face. He stopped thinking around then.

George jumped back on the bed, but instead of lying back beside Ollie, she climbed up and sat astride him, across his thighs, enjoying the display she created.

Ollie went to lift his head to look more closely, but she leaned forward, pressing his now definitely twitching cock to his stomach, and took his hands in hers, stroking his fingertips for a moment before making it clear that she wanted his hands on her breasts. Ollie didn’t hesitate, and took both breasts in his hands. His face looked more excited, and George could feel him twitch beneath her. She was at least as aroused as he was, and she leaned further forward, kissing Ollie’s chest as he caressed her breasts.

“What the fuck has come over you?” Oliver asked, a little breathless.

“Well, you have, a couple of times now.”

“Hmmm...”

“You don’t have the best aim, when you get excited.” George moved then, as though she’d made some sort of decision, moving forward further, and pressing her body to his, her stomach against his cock, so she could kiss his mouth, and he reacted just the way you’d expect, moving faster beneath her. She stopped him. “Oh, hold on, wait, don’t do that. Don’t ... don’t finish like that.”

“No?”

“Uh uh. Listen ... God, you are lovely. Could I ask you a favour? Oh, probably two.”

Ollie returned the kiss. “I appear to be imprisoned. How could I possibly turn you down?”

“Good point. Like the one that’s prodding me.”

“I’m not going to apologise this time.”

“Good.” Another kiss, and then she lifted her face so they could see each other. “Listen, the first favour is that I want the chance to do something, but I want to be able to back out. At any moment. Deal?”

“Oh, sweetheart, of course. Any time. You know.”

“I still needed to ask.” Her eyes were glittery with tears when they kissed again.

“You don’t need to, George...”

“Yes. Yes, I do. Let me ask the other favour.”

“Okay. Anything.”

She pulled herself up, so she was straddling him again, her pubic mound pressed against the base of his cock, his erection jutting, twitching, with a drop of moisture on the end. She reached down on the bed beside him, and then removed his hands from her breasts.

Taking his right hand in both of hers, she put something in his hand, and folded his fingers over it, then smiled, eyes still glittery with near tears, and let him go.

He opened his hand, saw the condom in it, and looked back up at her, questions in his face.

“Oliver, favour number two. If I ask nicely, and promise not to be too rough, would you let me fuck you?”

“Oh, Georgia, you don’t need to do this, either.”

“Don’t need to. Do want to. Mostly. That’s why I need favour one.”