He was already naked, having left his trousers on the living room floor and his shirt and collar on the sofa. He’d had to remove his boots and socks before entering the bedroom too.
His reply was to reach out his fingers to Julia’s shirt buttons and undo them, neither slowly nor quickly, but in a kind of dislocated trance. It was already out of the skirt waistband following his earlier explorations, so it slipped easily down her arms, revealing to his sight her pale pink lacy bra. Such a trim little stomach, such an elegant neck and fragile collarbone, he thought. She was nothing like Evie, with her spillage of flesh, her indecent profusion of breast. But Julia’s slightness hid a strength he could almost feel in his bones. She was more than a match for him, more than a match for Evie too. Why had he underestimated her?
He reached around her waist for her skirt zip, then helped the garment over Julia’s hips.
‘That’s the boy,’ she said, letting it fall to the floor and stepping out. Her knickers were also pale pink and lacy. Behind the oyster scalloping, he could see tendrils of darker hair. Unlike Evie, who was shaven. He shut his eyes, remembering the image of her at the maypole.
Julia, in her underwear, coltish of limb, bold of gaze. She was an invitation to sin. He was going to take it.
Obligingly, she turned around to grant access to her bra hooks. He was grateful at not having to reach behind, sure he would have fumbled and taken too long. Instead, he slid them from their eyes and pushed the straps down.
‘Touch them,’ whispered Julia.
He held the little mounds in his hands, enjoying the friction of palm and nipple. A woman’s body was pleasant to the touch. This was how men fell … But it was good to have the knowledge. Forewarned was forearmed.
I am better equipping myself to fight the devil.
He put his lips to Julia’s neck and kissed it, unprompted. She sighed and leant into him.
‘Oh, fast learner. Keep doing that to my nipples and I’ll come here and now, oh sweet God, you’re a natural.’
No, I’m an unnatural. Always have been, always will be.
‘You like it?’
‘Damn right. You?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. Knickers.’
Still behind her, he pushed his fingers into the knicker elastic and lowered them. She bent slightly as they fell down her thighs, and her bottom brushed against his cock. He felt that low-down spark in the pit of his stomach, the first sign of approaching erection.
Her buttocks were trim, pert and toned – by no means as lusciously spankable as Evie’s, but all the same, here was a woman’s arse, and it was in his reach, and he could have it if he wanted. He cupped it in his hands, unable to resist taking a handful of it.
‘You’re an arse man, are you, Adam?’
‘Stop it. Stop being so coarse.’
‘You are, though. I know it.’
He didn’t reply, busy assessing the qualities of Julia’s bottom. It looked as if a few medium-strength swats might break it. He needed a robust pair of cheeks, like Evie’s. There was an arse that could take a real thrashing. His cock swelled again at the thought. The way it had looked when he rubbed in that lotion …
Julia wriggled her hips and tipped her neck back to look up at him.
‘I want some attention elsewhere, love. Let me lie down and I’ll show you where and what to do.’
She took her stealthy, feline little body to the bed and settled herself on her back. Adam watched as she scissored her legs apart and drew them up at the knees, giving him a full view of her parted lips and the lush pink-and-redness within.
‘Come and touch me.’ She patted her pubis, with its down of dark blonde hair. ‘Right here. Come and take a look. Find your way around.’
He stood like a startled rabbit for a moment, then the mysterious territory of ridges and whorls, underhung by the soft half-moons of her bottom cheeks, drew him forwards and he knelt on the bed.
‘Do you need my help?’ Julia whispered, holding out a hand.
Adam shook his head hurriedly. He knew what was what and where was where. As an adolescent, he had spent a very long time studying his human biology textbook, the closest he’d ever got to pornography. He knew all about the female reproductive organs, though he’d given up hope of ever seeing them in flesh.
Prematurely, it seemed, because now here was a splendid example, open and ready to receive his attentions. He bent lower, inspecting the split lips and the complex of folds inside them. Dismal jokes about how men could never locate the clitoris came into his mind, but he was not one of those men. He could see it right there, ripe and deep pink. It looked too tender to touch, though, as if it were raw or something. Would it hurt Julia if he just …