Wednesday, 1 February 2012

Poking the Pole, Part Three

I do not know what time I awoke but it was still pitch dark outside. I remember reaching for Sylvia's warm body and being rewarded with a low squeal from her as she turned over into my arms. As we kissed my cock began to throb in anticipation of the polishing that it was shortly about to get, and I nuzzled her neck and let my tongue flicker on  it as my hands eagerly began to explore her awakening body.

And then the fucking door bell rang.

Sylvia froze like a statue, with only her eyes moving frantically as she decided what course of action to take.

"It's Ram," she whispered, as if afraid that the fool outside could hear her voice if she spoke any louder.

"What does he want?"

"He comes around at about eight o'clock after the shop has opened. He leaves his wife to run it and he, well, he..."

"Comes around here to get his leg over," I said, finishing the sentence for her.

Sylvia did not reply, instead she scampered out of bed, switched on a light and threw a dressing gown over her body before hastily putting slippers on her feet. Then she stared down at me, with panic written all over her face.

"You must go and hide, quickly, in the kitchen," she said, hastily.

I must have been out of my mind, probably because I was still half asleep, but I hauled myself out of the nice warm bed and staggered, bollock naked towards the kitchen.

"Don't worry, darling, I will get rid of him, I promise," I heard Sylvia say as I went into the kitchen and closed the door behind me.

I could hear them talking quietly, but not the actual words. To be fair it only took Sylvia about five minutes to get rid of Ram and his hard-on, but that was still a long five minutes as I shivered in the bitter cold of a London January morning. As the time dragged on I became aware that my bladder was seriously full so I let rip with a yellow stream into Sylvia's sink.

As the ache in my bladder eased, I took stock of the situation. It was obvious that friend Ram had more rights to Sylvia's little honey pot than I did, given the amount of money he was paying for access to it. It was also obvious that lovely Sylvia planned to either dump him for me, or, more likely, try to run the two of us in tandem, with both Ram and myself paying to ensure that she lived the style to which she aspired to become accustomed. Given my always parlous finances that was just so not going to happen, but I could not say that to her as I had not finished enjoying the fruits that lay between her thighs.

Although I was not too happy about freezing my nuts on in that kitchen, at the end of the day I really did not care what Sylvia got up to when I was not around. Come to think of it that is the way that I am with all women, so that was nothing new, either. The problem was that I could not just stroll back into the bedroom and tell her to do as she pleased once I had shot my wad into her a second time, and by the way, did she know that I did not have any money?

Women are strange creatures as we know, so I had to at least pretend to be emotional about all this. As I heard Ram l;eave the flat I pondered in my mind if hurt or angry was the best strategy to follow. A draft of cold air caught my balls and I decided that the stern angry lover was the one who would march back into the bedroom.

As I retraced my steps back to Sylvia I fought hard to keep the smile from my lips, as I wondered if she had ever had her bottom smacked before that day?

To be concluded.

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