24 Hours Ch. 01 — A tale of love and lust in the Caribbean

24 HOURS - PART ONE – The Librarian

"I would never guess where you're going on holiday Mr Graham." She spoke softly with a faint Irish accent as she passed me my books.

Although the librarian was not the most unattractive woman I had seen that day, she wore glasses, her ginger hair was tied tightly with a black comb into a bun, and she wore a frumpy dark brown dress topped off by a loose maroon sweater. A simple work badge above her left breast declared her given name to be Lesilia – Head of Antique Books. The room was dimly lit and totally lacking in atmosphere, so she seemed to blend into her surroundings perfectly.

What I did next was, at the time, beyond my comprehension. Perhaps it was the alcohol consumed at lunchtime, or had I sensed some deeply hidden sexuality within this female? More likely it was just the sheer pent up frustration of the last few weeks, and that any woman looked fanciable that afternoon! Who would have guessed that within four weeks of entering the antiquarian book department of The British Library that Wednesday afternoon I would be making love with one of its librarians on a moonlit tropical beach!

A few weeks prior to this my American girlfriend Lisa had finally deserted me in favour of an apparently longer appendage, taking with her our jointly owned Apple laptop, plus all the photos and videos we had made together, most of them extremely personal and highly sexual. As a Christmas present she had, through her employers Virgin Atlantic, booked and paid for a Caribbean holiday together, and this very lunchtime had met up with me and agreed that if she could hold on to the computer, I could then keep the holiday tickets, which arrangement eventually proved out to be a very fair exchange indeed. I was also secretly pleased that with the laptop she was taking with her an erotic souvenir of our past year together. We had been wonderful in bed together, but distance apart was the inevitable downfall of our relationship.

The first thought that crossed my mind after we finally parted was that I now needed to find another female to fill her seat on the plane, and of course the holiday bed. The thought of the lack of female company on a tropical vacation for the second time in as many years was unacceptable, especially since Lisa and I had experienced sex just about everywhere except on a beach. From bitter experience one did not pick up single girls in the Caribbean, at least not the sort that didn't nuke your wallet overnight, or of course charge an exorbitant hourly rate.

My principal hobby is photography, specialising in birds (the feathered variety) and tropical flora, and about this time I was obsessed with finding an elusive example of the endangered West Indian Whistling Duck, one of its known habitats being on the island of St Vincent.

Currently without internet access, and possessing little desire for sitting amongst nerds in an internet café, I thus found myself exploring this library in search of more information and history about this small Caribbean island, in particular the nearby tiny private resort of Young Island where that holiday bed was waiting. I refuse to buy travel books, once put to use they sit on the shelf, catch dust and rapidly go out of date, never to be used again.

In the huge main library I had found six volumes on the Leeward Islands and grabbed them all, leaving a conspicuous gap on the shelf. The adjacent dingy room I was now in delivered up a very worn single volume on St Vincent, and yet nothing on Young Island.

Arms laden, I headed for the checkout. The librarian was attending the next person in line, her fingers long and arrow straight, each and every one heavily adorned with a liberal quantity of gaudy rings which clinked noisily each time she date-stamped a book. Automatically I noted the absence of a wedding ring. Her nails were professionally manicured and, out of contrast with her demeanour, painted bright red. I wondered idly if her toenails were the same colour, an adornment I find most stimulating, especially when the toe in question is horizontally inclined with one's own. To complete the picture, she wore pearl necklace, an example of which was last seen on my grandmother!

She looked up as I passed her my stack of books and produced an unexpected warm smile, displaying a very even row of dazzling white teeth. Maybe that's what did it? I am a sucker for beautiful teeth, the polished feel of them in that tentative probing first kiss.

Rubber stamp poised for action, she glanced up, catching me staring at the gentle swelling of her breasts behind that sad looking sweater. I wondered just how much her modest clothing was hiding, suddenly attracted to some hidden sexual energy emanating from this strange woman.

"Lovely name," I remarked, my stare hastily lifting from the badge on her breast to her bright green eyes. She frowned for a moment, then smiled again.

Glancing at my library card she quickly handed it back to me. "I would never guess where you're going on holiday Mr Graham."

It was at this moment that the brain lodged between my legs engaged autopilot and probably changed my life forever, and most certainly not in the direction I expected from this encounter. I grinned back charmingly, holding her stare, oblivious to the customers waiting behind.

"Young Island actually, in the Caribbean. Very small, very exclusive and apparently, very picturesque."

Totally losing the plot I leaned forward conspiratorially and added, " I know this might sound rather odd, but I've just found out that my ex-girlfriend can't come, would you be interested her ticket?"

Clearly from her expression she thought I was joking, because she laughed back at me with a strong Dublin accent, "Bloody right to be sure, do we leave tonight?"

Holding my eyes steady with her own she realised I was serious and put her hands to her open mouth.

"Oh my God! You mean it!"

Before she could react further I quickly held up my hands, "No strings, just companionship and a free holiday."

The elderly woman in line behind me who had been listening intently butted in loudly, "Go for it girl, I would!"

Ignoring the comment I gave Lesilia a winsome smile. "Don't decide now, meet me outside when you finish and we can chat about it, okay?"

Her eyes open wide, she looked stunned as I gathered up my books and hurriedly left the building before giving her a chance to say no thank you or I have a boyfriend or sick mother or some other lame excuse I didn't want to hear at that moment. As I glanced back through the glass doors she was still staring after me, hand to her open mouth, the elderly woman trying to get her attention. As I strode happily back to my car I suddenly realised that the encounter had given rise to an erection, I had just attempted to pull the librarian! And, in her excitement, she hadn't even stamped my books!

Back at my apartment I threw the books on the sofa and poured a large whisky. Only then did the impact of what I had just done really hit me. I had invited a complete stranger to spend ten days with me in the Caribbean, and for all I knew she might not be interested in sex, which would be a holiday disaster, and by the clothes she was wearing she could easily pass for a lesbian! I must have been mad, I knew at least four women who would jump at an all-expenses paid holiday in the tropics, not discounting my ex-girlfriend Lisa's delightful younger sister who had hit on me in a big way at a recent party. Karen's number was scrawled on a Post-it by my bedside phone; one call and I knew her bags would be packed! I had to get out of this dilemma I resolved, the chances were that Lesilia would sensibly refuse and the door would be open again, but I had to do the gentlemanly thing and meet her as arranged, especially as I had to return the books at some stage, even if only to get them stamped.

A little before 5.30 I was waiting outside the library main entrance with my speech prepared. "Look Lesilia, I was totally out of order in there and will totally understand if you don't want to come." I rephrased it a dozen times until I was convinced I had the words which would guarantee a refusal and allow her to keep face, thus leaving me free to chase Lisa's very available sister. My well-prepared speech was instantly forgotten when ten minutes later a delightful sexy creature bearing only the remotest resemblance to a librarian called Lesilia, descended the steps toward me, smiling nervously.

"Put your eyes back in their sockets Mr Graham and buy me a drink please. I think I need one after that proposal of yours." She surprisingly took my arm as we made our way to the pub across the square.

"Vodka and tonic please, I have to go pee."

I watched her stride away through the bar and stared again open-mouthed at the revelation. She had changed out of the frumpy work clothes into a pair of beige skin-hugging jeans encasing the tiniest ass I had seen in years, plus a pink sleeveless top covering a pair of small perky breasts. It was difficult in the subdued light to ascertain if she was wearing a bra. Her curly red hair now fell loosely around her shoulders. When she returned we touched glasses.

"Jekyll and Hyde," I remarked, glancing at her clothes.

"I have to dress down at work," she explained, "Or I get all the weirdos making the most outrageous propositions!" She grinned slyly.

"In which case you might think you are drinking with one, my name's Tom by the way." I extended a formal hand.

"Les. I have to say you don't look like the usual type of weirdo we get in there."

I gave an exaggerated bow. "Thank you ma'am."

She grinned. "I checked you out on the credit database. Amazing what you can find out on there!"

"Inside leg too?"

"Ha ha, everything but!"

"So Les, where do we go from here?"

She looked at me seriously for a moment. "Well, you are obviously a person who goes after what he wants, and I admire that in a man, but whether you have succeeded is totally a different matter."

"I'm sorry if I put you on the spot in there, I'm not usually as forward as that."

"It was a bit of a surprise, but I must admit it brightened up a dull day." She sipped at her drink. "But I want to know a couple of things before I even consider this."

"Be my guest," I countered, catching the barman's eye and nodding for a second round.

"My parents had a twisted sense of humour, but my friends call me Les, okay? For obvious reasons I can't put that on my badge!" She grinned. "And I assure you I'm not one of those!"

Her eyes locked with mine. "Tom, I want to know about you, what you do, and any bad habits. And, if you smoke or you're married, then no bloody way, it's goodbye here and now."

"And the second question umm, Les?"

"I'll ask that when you have answered the first," she smiled, her emerald eyes still holding mine.

We took our drinks to a quieter part of the bar and I gave her a brief history. At 27 I guess I was at least a couple of years older than her, but we matched each other with our slim features, and whereas I was close on six feet she was a comfortable six inches shorter. I had a quick vision of her gazing up at me lovingly, moist lips parted, inviting that first passionate kiss. I wondered how soon that might be.

"Lesil... sorry, Les… I am just a humble architect, a partner in a small firm in Southfields."

"You must have wealthy clients to pay for a Caribbean holiday."

I laughed. "Normally Europe is my limit, and we have an office in Paris, where I met my ex last year. She paid for our holiday by the way."

Her eyes widened at the mention of the word 'our.'

I told her of my failed childless marriage followed shortly by a wild six month affair with Lisa, and which of course finally came officially to an end just a few hours ago.

"So I am a rebound date then?"

"No, no." I emphatically shook my head. "I hardly saw anything of Lisa in the last few months, we only slept together twice since New Years."

"No one else in that time?"

"Nope."

"Any hobbies?"

"Doing or watching?"

"Both"

"Beer, football and sex," I joked.

She put down her drink and started to rise, holding out her hand. "Goodbye then."

I held her arm. "Hey, just joking. Actually I am an avid cricket fan, short of being Barmy Army, but sadly couldn't afford the time to go to the World Cup. I play badminton and tennis; love to swim but only in warm seas."

I told her of my passion for photography and searching for rare birds.

"I think I might have found one today!" I added, grinning.

She smiled, flashing those dazzling kissable teeth. "Okay, now tell me why I would like this Young Island, whatever you call it."

The pub was filling up and, with the noise making conversation increasingly difficult, we moved closer together, her bare shoulder touching my arm as we leaned against the bar.

"Well, it's little more than a privately owned rock, got its own hotel and sandy beach, and if it lives up to the rest of the Caribbean it will be divine. Apparently the individual chalets are set amongst bougainvillea and palm trees, with a pool in the centre. And instead of deck chairs they have hammocks."

She smiled, her thoughts clearly drifting to 4000 miles away.

"It's very romantic," I added, hoping these were the words which would convince her. I was wrong.

"I'm not looking for romance Tom, my last one bit me in the ass."

I changed tack. "Okay, perhaps when I get back on line I can send you some pics of the place?"

A rugby type forced his way to the bar and I placed an arm around Les to shield her from the intrusion, her body melting rather surprisingly into mine. As she appeared to be gaining interest I became bolder.

"Before she became my ex-girlfriend, Lisa and I were obviously going to share one of the chalets. If you are still interested in all this, may I be the gentleman and suggest separate beds would be appropriate or, I can ask if there is a separate cabin available."

"Very gallant of you Tom, but a bit over the top. Of course I'm interested, I wouldn't be here otherwise would I?"

She held up a hand as I started to bumble a reply.

"But in the remote chance I agree to this, you are a young available guy, I am a single younger woman, and I have to assume you want more than just someone to carry your camera case around, right?"

She didn't wait for my reply. "So I'm going to have to think about it, okay?"

Les had to be aware that it's not often a girl gets invited on such an expensive date, the temptation must surely be too much to ignore. So I was hoping. I remained silent, knowing there was more to come.

She gulped a long sip from her glass. "Look, I'll be honest. It's obvious I am tempted, I so need a holiday right now, and I know I shouldn't be telling you this but…" taking another large swig, "…I haven't had sex in ages. So I have to be comfortable with the thought of sharing a room with you. I just need time to think it over. And anyway, I have to see if I can get the time off and also get my mum to look after my little girl."

"Oh, how old is she, your girl I mean? Where is the father?"

"Mary's nearly six and he cleared off as soon as he knew I was pregnant."

"Bastard," I commented with an appropriate disapproving tone.

"Not really Tom, if I was him I would have done the same, I was sleeping around a lot at the time and a bit careless with the pill. As it happens any one of three blokes could have been the father, though my intuition says it was him." She smiled at the surprised look on my face.

"Have I shocked you?"

"Not really I suppose, I sowed a lot of oats myself a few years ago, probably nearly a field full."

She laughed briefly, then frowned. "I've only had one true boyfriend since then, but when I eventually asked him to move in with me and Mary, he ran a mile. Do you know it took me two years after he had gone to discover that all that time he was married? We certainly find them don't we!" she sighed.

"All part of the experience we call life I am told."

"Please tell me you are not married, are you Tom?"

"I told you I was divorced two years ago, I can show you the certificate if you want?"

"No, I believe you, you seem a trusty sort of guy."

"Thank you. So where do we go from here?"

She declined another drink "Right now I have to pick Mary up from my mum and ship her off to a birthday party, can I phone you tomorrow?"

"Yes of course, I'd like that," I took her arm and we threaded our way out of the pub.

"Better idea, why not dinner tomorrow?"

"Umm, I need to think on that one Tom." She suddenly gripped my arm. "By the way, didn't you have anyone else in mind for this trip?"

"Only if you had said no, I haven't asked anyone else."

"I haven't said yes yet," she smiled back.

"Fernando's at eight? Just dinner, no strings?"

"You keep mentioning strings Tom, I must remember to pack some scissors!" She smirked and hesitated.

"Come on Les, you know you want to really."

She laughed as we went down the steps. "Those were the very words that got me pregnant!"

We stared at each other in silence and then she relented. "All right. Is that the Mexican place by the station?"

As I nodded she surprised me by leaning into me and kissing me full on the lips. "That's to tell you I am interested, but no more than that, not just yet anyway."

We parted at the library car park after she had noted the dates of the holiday and we had swapped mobile numbers. She blew me a kiss as she drove away in a little green Mini.

***

Next day I woke early, subconsciously clutching the usual morning hard-on, imagining Les's head on the pillow next to mine as we softly caressed each other after a night of mind-boggling sex in our tropical hideaway. After yesterday's conversation I was pretty sure she wanted to come with me but clearly didn't want to appear too eager. I respect women who play a little hard to get, knowing only too well that they enjoy the chase as much. So, being positive and believing she wanted me to make the next move, I sent her a text.

'Hi Les, look forward to tonite! Tom x. PS At some stage I will need a surname to change the booking, hope its yours!'

Five tense filled minutes later she replied, 'Kool.' That was it, just 'Kool.'

I played the message again expecting more but, just…'Kool'.

After a quick shower I set off on the Tube to meet a client in the City followed by another in West London and when the train eventually surfaced into sunshine my mobile buzzed in my shirt pocket.

"It's Baron, Lesilia Baron. Make sure you spell it right. Lx"

"Kool from me too. xT" I typed. "PS I'm at Barons Ct Tube. How's that for coincidence?"

"Must b meant..cu tonite x."

I spent the rest of the day happy as a dog with two tails and wondering how soon we would be able to test our sexual compatibility, or whether she would want to wait until we got to the island.

 Kitted out in my best chinos and pale blue shirt I checked my wallet for sufficient cash and my last unused latex insurance which had taken up permanent residence behind my credit cards, and arrived at Fernando's a little early, ordering myself a Cerveza. Being a Thursday the bistro wasn't too busy and I acquired a secluded corner table. An elderly client of mine passed by and just as we started to exchange pleasantries my date arrived, and what an entrance! Les gave the little black number a whole new identity, showing off her short slender figure to perfection, there was not a single part of that dress that didn't touch her body. For me a body-clinging calf-length dress showing a discreet amount of compact cleavage is worth ten of a big-boobed bimbo in a mini. Her long curly hair was gathered in a plaited ponytail and emphasised her long elegant neck. She smiled as she slid into the offered seat and my client moved away, his face green with envy. Lesilia had clearly gone to great lengths to impress me, my eyes not being the only part of my being that was appreciative!

For a few minutes we talked a little nonsense, both hesitant to bring up the main reason for our meeting. It was Les who finally broke the ice.

"Tom, I think you should know I'm not looking for a relationship just now. I'm just…"

She paused while the waiter arrived with a couple of beers

"…I'm just happy in my present situation bringing up Mary without any unnecessary complications, like clingy boyfriends."

"I understand but…"

She held up her hand, avoiding my stare. "Shhh…. I just owe it to myself to have a little fun now and again and this seems as good an opportunity as any. It seems ages since I let my hair down." She sighed, looking up. "Now, what were you going to say?"

"I was going to say that in the library I said no strings, so I too have no expectations. If we decide never to meet again when we get back home I will accept that, no doubt very reluctantly," I added, smiling into her eyes.

"Cool. Lets forget this talk about strings shall we? I just want some fun time without complications. As they say, what happens in the Caribbean stays in the Caribbean?"

"I think you'll find that's Las Vegas!" We both laughed together.

"Does this mean I can cancel the single beds?" I ventured.

"Why, whatever do you have in mind you naughty man?" a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Nothing really, it's just that one large bed leaves more space in the room than two singles, that's all."

"Yeah right."

The knowledge that I was going to fuck this sexy woman in the very near future was driving my hormones wild, with the obvious visible effect on my anatomy. Little did I realise that the contents of my wallet would be called into service much sooner than I expected, and I don't mean the cash to pay the bill.

A disinterested waiter served our starters, and they arrived cold. After much complaining they were returned to us obviously over micro-waved and totally dried up.

"This is fucking shit," declared Les, shocking me, the waiter and half the restaurant. "I am no cook but I can do better than this bloody heap of crap," she blazed. Some weak applause supported her from a nearby table.

"Sorry," she grinned in her anger. "But don't you agree?"

I didn't think the food was that bad but I replied calmly, raising an eyebrow. "Care to prove it, or shall we find somewhere else to eat?"

She stood up angrily. "Too bloody right, come on let's go."

Fortunately this tirade had softened my penile swelling and I went to pay for the drinks while Les hailed a taxi.

"Sorry about the French, if there's one thing I hate it's bad service and cold food. Do you like pasta?"

"Only if I can do the sauce."

"Deal," She kissed me lightly on the cheek as we settled back in the cab, knees touching.

She pointed to a block of council flats that we passed. "That's where my mum lives."

"Is that where Mary is tonight?"

She grinned at me curiously. "I know what you're thinking Tom! And yes she is, but only until the carriage turns back into a pumpkin!"

As opposed to my modern apartment overlooking the local park, Les's flat was on the top floor of a converted Victorian house just outside Kingston. It consisted of two bedrooms, a tiny bathroom which I was grateful to make use of, and a convenient kitchen leading open-plan style off the spacious living room, the centre piece being the largest sofa I had ever seen, beautifully upholstered in cream leather.

"I've seen king-size beds smaller than that," I laughed.

"It serves the same purpose," she smiled. "My brother and his girlfriend come up to town from Dorset and with the train just around the corner it's very convenient for them to sleep on, and whatever else they do."

I ignored the sexual suggestion and nodded toward the kitchen, "What about this pasta then?"

"OK let me go change, I can't cook in this. There's drinks in the fridge, and I think there's a Chardy I opened the other day, help yourself. Mines a Bud please. By the way Tom," she called over her shoulder, "I'm not usually into bad language, sorry about earlier."

"No probs," I replied as I spilled half the contents of the overfilled fridge on to the floor.

I was examining photographs on the mantelpiece when she returned in a red DKNY sweatshirt and loose black leggings with bare feet sporting, as I had dared to hope, brilliant red toenails. She had untied her ponytail, her red hair now flowing down over her shoulders.

"Tom, I don't think I have the ingredients for a sauce but I have got some ready made in that cupboard. You sort that out and I will do the pasta. Is fussili ok?" I nodded. "And there's a baguette in the freezer if you want to bung it in the microwave."

As we worked and chatted together I became aware of a strong sexual energy growing between us, I was as horny as I had been all evening and with the effect of the wine I was getting increasingly less bothered about Les noticing the changing shape of my chinos.

With our pans gently bubbling away we raised our drinks and clinked glasses. "Cheers Les, thank you for wanting to come on this little adventure. I promise to make it special for you."

She smiled seductively and kissed me fully on the lips, pressing her ample breasts into my chest.

"And I promise to make it one you will remember too. I think I need it as much as you do."

She reached around me to prod the steaming pasta. "I am referring to the dinner of course," she added with a smirk.

I pulled her even closer to me pressing my erection into her belly, our warm bodies feeling the heat and desire for each other as we kissed urgently, our tongues eagerly exploring each other's mouths for the first time, our pulses racing, passion mounting, my hands descending to the round globes of her ass. When we stopped to catch our breath she glanced down at the obvious outline of my cock, a tell-tale had appeared in the cotton. "God, how long have you been like that?"

"Ever since we met yesterday," I laughed, but she playfully pushed me away and turned back towards the stove, but not before I noticed her erect nipples pressing against her oversize t-shirt.

"Let's not spoil the food Tom."

We sat cross-legged on the floor with our backs to the sofa and ate silently, our hunger evenly divided between the meal and the increasing desire for each other. I pointed to a blob of sauce on her chin and before she could wipe it away I leaned forward and gently licked it off her face, softly placing it on her lips.

"Too good to waste," I smiled, and we kissed slowly tasting and swapping the bolognese on our tongues.

"Mmm, saucy," she laughed.

"Me, or the dinner?" I licked my lips suggestively.

"Both, especially when tasted slowly."

We were silent for a while as we finished our pasta, each lost in our own thoughts, and knowing in our hearts we would not be able to hold back our passion much longer. When we had literally licked our plates clean, Les moved to the sofa, patting the space beside her invitingly. As she sat back on the seat her loose top rode up over her hips, her thighs just far enough apart to expose the curved crease of her pussy encased within the black leggings. Knowing what I had seen she grinned and took my hand and placed it on her thigh, but resisted my attempt to move it into more tropical territory.

"Tom, I think you can tell that I want you very much, but there is something you should know about me before we get carried away."

"Well, if you are not a black-widow spider in disguise, and you said you are not a lesbian then I guess with that body you must be the British Library's top pole dancer?"

Instead of smiling she looked at me seriously, taking my other hand in hers. "Not as serious as that but pretty bad maybe in your eyes. You really might want to change your mind Tom and take that erection home."

I looked down at the ridge in my pants, more than ever determined that I would not leave this apartment in this condition. Les wanted to unload and suddenly looked very vulnerable and obviously wanted my approval as much as the holiday itself.

"Tom, I don't know how to say this, no-one but my Mum knows."

"Whatever you say you wont shock me, I promise. And I can keep a secret." Reluctantly I removed my hand from her thigh and hooked my arm around her shoulder. She sighed and rested her head on my chest, obviously keen to avoid eye-to-eye contact.

She took a deep breath. "Before I got my present job, I was sexually active."

"So? What's so bad about that? Lucky you, I say. I wish I'd been around then!"

"I mean very active."

"I don't understand. You like sex, so what's the problem?"

She waved her arm around the room which, on closer examination, was very expensively furnished.

"Tom, how do you think I paid for this place?"

Slowly it dawned on me. "You mean…?"

"Uh huh, I was an escort girl."

I started to interrupt, but she put her finger to my lips.

"Let me finish. I slept with men for a living, even a couple of girls. But I didn't do it for me, I wanted to give Mary a nice home and a private school, and so that I would never have to depend on any man ever again. I was a high class whore Tom."

I stayed silent, gently caressing her hand in mine, my lips exploring her hair, my own heart racing.

"So now what do you think of your demure sexless librarian?"

I replied by lifting her head and kissing her slowly and, melting into my arms, she started crying gently, her soft lips sucking on my probing tongue. I slid my hand under her shirt touching her warm flesh for the first time and gently stroked the underside of her naked breasts.

"That changes nothing. You are still the person I met yesterday, you are still the same person I want to take on holiday, and you are so very much the same person I want to make love with, preferably as soon as possible."

She smiled through her tears and we kissed deeply, our tongues duelling in a frenzy of passion. As my fingers encountered her erect nipples, her own found their way to the outline of my very erect cock.

"Mmm, someone seems to approve of my past."

She squeezed me gently, releasing a small jet of liquid into my pants. In return I slid my hand up her naked thigh, my little finger finally nestling into the warm crease of her cotton clad pussy, already moist with the dew of love.

"Actually I approve of the Les that's here and now, and I think she approves of me." She squirmed as I pressed harder into her pussy, and she groaned as we slowly we fell back together on the cushions.

Without further ado we fucked deliciously on that cream leather sofa. It was urgent primitive sex without any foreplay, borne mainly out of frustration, and yet it was the most spontaneous and fulfilling fuck that either of us could remember in a long time. After orgasming deep inside her I silently prayed that latex doesn't deteriorate with age!

Naked, we laid together in silence for what seemed an eternity, each lost in our own private thoughts. I had just fucked a hooker for free (alright, ex-hooker), and I suspected that, like me, she hadn't had sex in quite a while.

Later, as we lay silently in each other's arms and as Little Tom was regaining his earlier glory and contemplating re-entry, Les pushed me away and grabbed some tissues to mop up the evidence of our union from the leather, and somewhere to deposit the condom. We stood naked face to face as I held her shoulders, my cock erect again against her belly. She had tears in her eyes.

I whispered, "You're okay, you're okay by me. I don't care who you have slept with or how often, just as long as we can do this again."

Tenderly holding my cock, sticky in her little hand, she bent down and kissed the head, with one eye on the clock. "Tom, what I would really like right now is to take you to my bed and make love with this fellow all through the night, but I really have to go fetch Mary, my mum starts her shift at eleven."

Seeing the disappointment on my face, she again looked at the clock, then grinned. "I think it's five minutes fast. Do you think you can cum in five minutes?"

"Try me," I replied pressing her head towards my groin.

With a little help from my hand and vigorous attention from her eager lips I made it in four, the quickest blowjob I could remember. Her tongue laden with spunk, she mumbled something incoherent and waved toward her beer bottle. She took a long swig.

"Thank you Tom, much better diluted."

I replied, kissing her creamy lips, "I must remember to keep plenty of beer in stock!"

After dressing, I offered to wash up but she led me to the door and we walked together as far as her mother's building and parted with a soft kiss. "Text me tomorrow, and… thank you Tom."

It was nearly two miles to my home but I decided to walk and take in all that had happened in the last day or so. My first thoughts were to thank God for remembering to bring a condom, my second was to remember to buy some more, a lot more!

I was home by midnight via a quick double in my local. Jan the barmaid observed me with a bright glint in her Irish eyes. "You look happy tonight Tom, what you been up to then?"

"Nothing," I replied unconvincingly with a smug grin.

"You've been shaggin' you lucky dog!"

"What makes you think that?" I grinned sheepishly as she passed me a double rye-and-dry.

"You think it only shows on women's faces?"

"Is it that obvious?"

She returned to collecting empty glasses. "Anyone I know?"

"Nope. Just someone I met recently and going on holiday with."

"Lucky dog, where to?"

"Caribbean."

"Shit! Why didn't you ask me then?"

"I don't think George would approve do you?" just as her husband appeared from the kitchen.

"Approve of what," he mumbled, giving the bar top a cursory wipe.

"I suggested going with Tom here to the Caribbean, stop him getting into trouble."

"Good idea," he muttered, "Get you out of my hair."

Laughing, I sank the rest of my drink and went home to my bed thinking of the holiday to come and savouring the smell of her that still lingered on my body.

***

Next morning I sent Les a text.

"Hi sexy! Thanks for last night and especially for sharing. I don't care who you are or what you have done, ur a very special person and I want you on my holiday. Txx PS and in my bed!

Her reply was immediate "Thanks Tom, if it's like last night I look forward to both!"

"So when can we do it again?"

She evaded the question."Same pub at one?"

"Bit public for sex don't you think?"

"For a drink, silly!"

I spent the morning catching up on some planning drawings for my client in the City, and showed up in the pub a little early to find Les at the end of the bar and already well into a bottle of Bud, and of course dressed in her draconian work attire. I grabbed myself a beer and we found a little table in the window overlooking the square.

"I bonked your twin sister last night," I joked, frowning at her gear and wondering how her punters would feel if they saw her now.

"I'll have to ask her if you were any good, she's very choosy you know," she laughed.

"She was very special actually and the sex was the best I have had in yonks, she seemed very experienced in the art of delight."

"I wonder how that could be?" The smile disappeared from her place. "So?"

"So." I replied, one eye raised in question, wondering where the conversation was going, hoping of course it would be an indication of the timing of the next horizontal meeting of our bodies.

"Listen Tom, I know what's on your mind."

"Just your normal horny male, one bite of the cherry, I want the whole tree!"

"No, what I meant was, how did you feel making love with a prostitute?"

"Well, for starters it wouldn't be the first time and, secondly I believe you said ex-prostitute?" with an emphasis on the 'ex.' "It really didn't cross my mind at all. I just saw you as a very sexy lady who had never really experienced some decent cock!"

She kicked me under the table. "I think you should know that part of my life ended two years ago."

"I realise that, but if I may ask, what made you give it up if it was so lucrative?"

"A girl I knew got badly beaten up by a punter and that was enough for me, and it was about the same time that I got offered this job," pointing to her badge.

I shrugged my shoulders. "It's okay Les, I really have no problem with it, I'm thrilled that you took the courage to tell me, you didn't have to you know."

"I know, and I don't have any regrets because I did it all for Mary, and my mum got looked after too, before she got herself a new man."

She paused, looking at me thoughtfully. "You said you went with a prostitute Tom, when was that?"

A little embarrassed with the straight question, I answered softly, "I went with a couple of those girls while I was married, I thought that better at the time than being properly unfaithful, and God knows I had enough opportunities."

"That's what we were there for Tom. I don't think going to bed with an escort is being unfaithful. I hope you stayed safe."

"Of course I did, I have to admit that I hate the bloody things though."

"Don't we all Tom, but that's the world we live in. I must admit I miss that feeling of a man releasing himself completely inside me. So what happened to your marriage?"

"Well, I went from a very active sexual life, I was in the Navy for a while, into marrying a woman who had peculiar values in that department. She was a Methodist and believed that sex was purely for the procreation of offspring. After a few practice runs she suspected I was just shagging her for the fun of it, which of course I was, and more or less called a halt to the proceedings. She accused me of not trying."

"How long were you together?"

"Only two years and a bit, we split up eighteen months ago. I had one or two meaningless flings to let off steam, then met Lisa in Paris and that lasted until a week ago, it would seem now that for her it ended soon after Christmas when I introduced her to my old friend Rachel."

"Ooh interesting! Bisexual girl friend eh? Lucky man!"

Les leaned forward and whispered, "So when did you last have sex Tom? Before last night I mean. You seemed to go at it like a man possessed, not that I minded!"

"Was it that obvious? New Year's Day actually, so..umm.. about six months I guess." I excluded a wild gothic creature called Katie from the equation, that was after all only oral sex in a car park. And no, she didn't even let me cum in her mouth.

"Mmm, thought you had been saving it up," she grinned, finishing her beer. "In my work I was very used to handling frustrated husbands!"

"I can imagine which bits you handled! I wish I had met you when I was straying from the nest."

I pointed to her empty glass. "Another one?" She nodded and I fetched two more Buds.

"So, how long had it been it for you Les?"

She took a swig from the bottle and stared hard into my eyes. "Would nearly a year surprise you?"

I gulped on my drink making her laugh. "I have been devoted to making up for lost time with Mary, she had spent so many evenings with my mum."

"So no one else then?"

"Just a fling with a married guy last summer, only I didn't know at the time that he was married, I just seem to attract those sorts. Until you came along the other day I had lost interest, or I thought I had," she added poking me in the ribs and grinning.

"It was totally unexpected for me too you know, I don't usually jump in that quickly."

"Spontaneous sex is the best Tom, and I never had much of that." She leaned forward, her lips almost touching mine, and whispered against my mouth. "And now I want more, a lot more. Do you think you will be able to handle me?"

"I think I managed ok last night!"

"That was just a warm up darling, you haven't seen me in full flow, and I do come with excellent credentials!"

"In which case," I replied, "would you care to show me your résumé this evening?"

She held up her hand. "No Tom, that's why I wanted to meet you here. Don't take this the wrong way, but I would like us to be celibate until we get on holiday, I want to repeat what we did last night, but ten times better, and for me that means saving it up again. Then I want to do something I have never done."

"What?" I replied, wondering what she could possibly have excluded in her previous employment.

"I want to have sex on the beach in the moonlight."

"Okay, in that case I think I might just be able to wait four weeks!"

"And no fingers or hands either, no masturbating."

"Oh shit, that will be really hard."

She laughed. "Good, keep it that way, save it for me. I will make it worth your while Tom. Just think of the reward at the other end," she added.

"I'm thinking of the reward at this end," I joked, pointing to my crotch. She giggled as I added, "I would much prefer lots of little daily rewards, on that big sofa of yours."

Her eyes pleaded. "Please, for me?"

"Ok, I'll try."

"Good, and we can still meet at lunchtimes to check on each other?"

"If I meet you in that gear all the time, then the problem's solved," I joked.

She looked down at her sweater. "You might find it hard to believe, but I have got some even mousier ones than this!"

"You better wear them then if I'm going to last four weeks!"

We had another beer and shared a sandwich while we discussed the travel arrangements, and then parted with a kiss on the cheek, hardly the farewell I expected from someone I had shagged heartily on her sofa some twelve hours ago.

Over the following weeks I buried myself in my work, interspaced with texts or phone calls from Les. Mostly they were about the holiday arrangements but others like "Tom I love your beautiful fat dick and want it in my wet pussy, hurry up the 28^th" did not help me to concentrate on my work. If we got the slightest bit horny with each other on the phone we would agree reluctantly to hang up. We also met up a couple of times a week at the pub, all the time she was kitted out in her sexless librarian gear. If she did it on purpose to keep my ardour down, she certainly succeeded because never once did I touch myself except in the bathroom, and she assured me of the same although she admitted she hadn't felt so horny in ages

"I'm fucking randy Tom, and I want you to fuck me hard, real soon' was another message received. Fortunately I was in a big meeting, otherwise I think I would have broken my promise!

We chatted a lot about the holiday, what each of us was taking and the things we wanted to see and do, including of course the sex.

I wondered if the two dozen mint-flavoured condoms I was packing would be sufficient. The check-out girl's eyes in the supermarket were a sight not to be forgotten!

Part 2 follows, and the climate heats up, as does the sex!