The worst thing about visiting Amy was her mother. She lived opposite, and invariably Amy was at her house when Keith arrived. He'd knock on Amy's door, get no answer, and trudge across the road.
For some reason, Amy's mother liked him. She'd make tea and cakes and Keith was too polite to refuse. He'd have to suppress his hard-on and chat amiably when all he wanted was to take Amy home, throw her on the bed and fuck her brains out. He was convinced that mother was just trying to delay them, to prevent her little girl from being ravaged.
Still, the best thing about visiting Amy was that he always did get to fuck her brains out; or rather, she fucked his brains out. Under that sweet, wholesome exterior, she was insatiable. They'd met attending an accountant's training course six months ago, and hit it off immediately. Keith's friends questioned whether she was worth the eight hour round trip, all the hanging about on cold platforms, the delays and the expense. But they'd only ever seem the demure Amy; she'd never sucked any of their dicks. If she had, they'd understand.
A sideways jolt woke Keith from his slumber. He leaned forward and resumed typing. It was dark outside, and he could see the fires of Port Talbot steelworks in the distance. He was later than usual. The server at the office had gone down, it took hours to fix and he'd nearly missed the last train. He set about the keyboard again, determined to finish before he got into Swansea. Amy loved reading his stories. They gave her ideas. But all that shit with the server had sapped his creative energy and he was having trouble writing anything. By the time the train pulled into the station, he'd barely got two hundred words down. He was frustrated. Amy would be disappointed.
The taxi pulled up outside Amy's house. Keith paid the driver and got out. Amy's house was dark, but the lights still shone in her mother's front room. Keith almost went straight over, but that wasn't his routine. He pushed the gate open and climbed the steps to the door of Amy's lifeless house. He rang the bell. No answer. He hadn't expected any. Wearily, he crossed the street. No sooner had he knocked on mother's door, than it was pulled open. Amy stood in the doorway wearing the scarlet, silk nightdress he'd brought for her birthday. It clung to her, accentuating her curves. Keith's mouth watered.
"Mam's away for the weekend," she said. Her accent made his senses tingle and his heart dance. "I've been waiting hours. What took you?"
She kissed him hard, forcing him back against the door.
"But ... but... ?"
"I wanted to surprise you." She kissed him again, even harder than before.
Keith dropped his bags on the floor, and scooped Amy up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they kissed again.
"What did I do to deserve you?" he said.
"It's not what you did, it's what you're about to do."
"You just wait."