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Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Mica xx Yorkshire, England
My trip into town had not been entirely successful. Town was actually Leeds, and it was a good way from home, so time was invested in the journey there and back. I had wandered around a few lingerie stores and found nothing that I didn’t already have, nothing to excite me, let alone anyone else. I tried on a few dresses, but again, nothing that really grabbed me. I did buy an almost shear blouse, I would possibly need nipple pasties though, depending on where I was going to wear it.
I was sat in Hot Java, a coffee shop near the arcade. Their imagery was a volcano spewing lava that we were supposed to think was coffee. Cool idea, very poor imagery. I had ordered a flat white and a Danish. I was pondering whether to go to the outlet stores by York, or just head home. A young server brought me my order.
“Thank you young man,” I said, and goodness he did look young. I bet he was in his twenties but looked as if he should still be at school. He smiled at me.
“You are very welcome,” and turned and went back to his duties. What a lovely smile, I thought it looked genuine.
“Hello, I think we live in the same street?”
A voice interrupted my reverie, I turned to its source. Ah yes, I think it was a neighbour.
“Oh, hello, I think we do. I am at the end of Wofords Fold.”
“Yes, I am near the beginning. We don’t often see you out and about.”
“No, I tend to stay in and do my own thing.”
“May I join you?”
“Of course,” I said wishing I was brave enough to say no.
He went to the counter and ordered and then came and sat on the other side of the table.
“I know we haven’t been introduced. I am Joe from number five.”
“Hello Joe, I am Mica from the end.”
“Mica, pleased to meet you, but I did think your name was something else, how very odd.”
Here we go again, someone else recognises me, but isn’t sure, let’s not help him.
“No, it definitely says Mica on my Birth Certificate.”
“Lovely name, Russian?”
“More family, I am born and bred in England as were my parents and theirs.”
“Wow, well, it is a lovely name and very unusual in England.”
“Thank you, is Joe short for Joseph?”
“Oddly no, it is just Joe, and not even the defence of a family name, it is just Joe, and no middle name. My parents liked to be concise.”
At that point the handsome young server delivered his coffee. I gave him a smile and was rewarded with a wonderful smile back.
“Thank you,” Joe said to the young man, who simply nodded an acknowledgement, and went back to his counter.
“Do you come into Leeds often?” Joe asked.
“No,” I replied, “it is a long way, parking fees are stupid, road works seem to have been going on for ever, and so I avoid it. You?”
“Oh I get the train, drops me off in the centre, I can wander around as I please, there are some quite distinctive little shops that I like to browse, drink a coffee here or grab a bite at some of the street stalls, I like it, so I come a fair amount.”
I don’t like trains, too public, too crowded, I prefer the anonymity of my car. “Oh.” I said, I don’t like giving away too much information.
“You know it is so odd, I was so sure that you were someone else, your face looks so familiar,” he said, again going back to something I prefer to ignore. I just shrugged.
“What do you do, may I ask,” he asked.
“Oh I run my own little consultancy company, advising on management issues, helping out at peak load, that sort of thing.”
“Pretty and clever too, can be a devastating combination.”
“I do most of my work remotely, so I don’t think my looks really come into it if I’m honest.”
“Maybe, but they will be an asset in some scenarios I am sure.”
“I beg to disagree; I use my brain which I have rather than my looks which can fade.” I didn’t want to go into my years as an international model where I did trade on my looks. I was beyond that, that was history.
“Okay, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
I just nodded, his focus on my looks took me to places I wanted to forget.
I had finished my coffee and my pastry, and decided it was time to move on.
“Well Joe, I must get on, it was nice to chat with you, but goodbye for now,” I said as I stood collected my shopping back and handbag.
“Goodbye Mica, it was nice chatting. I shall sit here and try to think who you remind me of.”
I left Joe to his musings, hoping he wouldn’t recall. I had a different name back than, a stage name, I never used my real name in any of my works or appearances, even in the few films I did, no I was someone else back then, and that was my dad’s advice.
“Don’t use your real name baby,” he had said, “that way you can always walk away from the limelight and go back to being you.”
He was right, and my career had been quite successful, and I had been known worldwide, but then I had Sıhhıye escort enough of it one day and literally vanished from the scene and went back to my own name and life. I told my agent I was retiring and took no more work, replied to no emails, deleted my phone and then stopped looking at the emails too. No one knew who I really was, except the tax man, and I set up my Management Consultancy company, wore my hair and makeup differently and got on with my new life.
As I was standing looking into the window of M&S, wondering if I could be bothered to go in only to be disappointed, I heard a familiar voice.
“Goodness, it is you, a long way from the dales.”
“My word and you are along way from Wigan.”
“Hello Mica, how are you and what are you doing here?”
“Hi John, just a day off from government work, it can be so tedious, they waste so much money it is depressing, so I thought some retail therapy. I needed to get back into the real world.”
“Not a retreat then, hidden from the world at the end of a long track to nowhere?”
“No, that was a unique occasion, something that I needed to do, a demon to exorcise, no, not demon, memory.”
“Did you manage? Exorcism accomplished?”
“Yes, and to be fair, I did get some very unexpected help.”
He laughed and leant forward and hugged me before releasing and stepping back.
“My that bed was a bit uncomfortable though.”
“I suspect it is probably as old as the cottage. I actually liked the place, I may book it again. It really is isolated and sometimes it is nice to get away from the modern world and to go back to simpler times. You know, I have no idea if the TV in that place actually works or not.”
“Well Mica, if you do decide to book it, and you would like some company, I would love to share. I will make my contribution to the costs of course.”
“Don’t be silly, if I book it then I will pay, your contribution can be your company, if you want to of course.”
“Let me know if you do. I have to go now, I am on the way to see a difficult client who seems to think he can put everything he buys through his company and claim it back. A new kitchen at his home is his latest. I have to explain to him that he can’t and I gave up over the phone, so face to face it is.”
We embraced, kissed briefly and off he went. Such a pleasant surprise. I went back to looking in the M&S window and decided that no, no I wouldn’t be patronising their store today. I headed back to the car and fought my way through the never ending roadworks and back onto the M62.
A few days later I was sitting in my conservatory finishing a spread sheet and pivot table for my Government Agency when I thought again about the cottage. I emailed the owner to see when it was next available. I was quite surprised to discover it was available the following week, Monday through Friday morning. A cancellation apparently. I hurriedly wrote back and booked it.
Goodness that was lucky. I emailed John and told him that I was going to the cottage next Monday for a few days. If he could make it, great, if not I would have a few days of relaxation and solitude, and with the client difficulties I was having with my current contract, that would be most welcome. Government work is so tedious, they demand contractors demonstrate Value For Money, whilst wasting millions themselves.
Monday was soon here and I packed my car, food for two this time, a plug in electric kettle, the AGA was just too slow at times. A second deck chair and another couple of towels. I had arranged to meet John at the bus stop on the A road near the ned of the track, he said he would be there around ten, so I needed to get a wriggle on. I kissed Mikhael, my son, goodbye, he had no intentions of spending four days in the middle of nowhere with slow WIFI, no Netflix and no girlfriend. I told him his girlfriend could stay over, but a maximum of one person staying and no parties and anyone except his girlfriend that came round had to be gone by six. I reminded him we had CCTV, so I could check.
“God’s sake mum, I am not a baby. I am going to have a great time, Lucy is coming, she may stay, but no one else. Greg may come over to play on the PS5, but that is it.”
And I was gone. It was a horrible wet day, the wipers were on full bore, and the roads were full of puddles, some stretching from side to side. John would have gotten soaked walking from the bus to the cottage. I pulled up by the bus stop and waited, not long and I saw the bus approaching, I had pulled off the road into a farmers gate entrance, to the bus had room to stop and the road wasn’t blocked.
I saw John, he rushed across, threw his back in the back and climbed into the front seat next to me.
“Gosh Meesh, what a day.”
“You would have got soaked walking to the cottage J.” I answered as I leant across for a kiss, awkward in the car with its centre console, but still manageable.
“Oh I have plenty Tunalı escort of good waterproofs, I would have been dry inside, but it would not have been the most enjoyable walk, not till I got to the cottage anyway.”
I headed off and shortly turned up the track, John was saying how the difficult client would not accept that he couldn’t claim for a domestic kitchen in his residence on his company account and that they had parted company.
“Oh gosh I am sorry to hear that,” I said as I concentrated on getting the car along the track made so slippery with the rain. Low revs all the way.
“Oh it is no problem, he will still have to pay my final invoice, and customers like him are not worth the time, and I have more than enough customers. If he wants to come back to me, he will find my rates have gone up.”
I laughed and then we were at the cottage. I left the car at the front whilst we unloaded it, I would move it around to the side when the rain eased. I dived out of the car and ran to the door, got the key from the upturned plant pot and opened up.
“I’ll get the AGA going if you want to start bringing stuff in,” I said.
“Right” he said. I went through the routine of getting AGA going, I saw that John had brought in the electric kettle, so I filled that and plugged it in, at least we could have a coffee or a tea without waiting an hour or more for the AGA to get up to temperature.
I went across to the pile of stuff that John was bringing in, food and kitchen stuff to the kitchen table to be sorted when it was all in, and clothes by the stairs, deckchairs by the door. Eventually it was all in. I went out and moved the car to the side of the house out of sight and out of the views.
“Right, tea or coffee?”
“Tea I think” he answered and then he was carrying the clothes and bags up to our room, we could sort it out later.
I made two mugs of tea and put them on the table in the sitting room, it was still chucking it down outside, even though it was warm, no one likes to sit in a downpour and drink tea. Well, not anyone I know. Tea was going to be meatballs and jacket potato. I put the potatoes in the AGA cooking oven and left them, the meatballs I had already prepared at home and would only need warming through. I damped the AGA and added more logs, that should keep it going for a few hours.
For lunch we would have ham and poached eggs, but that was a while away yet. John came down.
“I’ve left you the top drawer, I’ve put my clothes away.”
“You better have left me more than the top drawer otherwise you will be looking for your clothes in the front garden, ready laundered by the Gods.”
He laughed and we sat down and picked up our mugs and started sipping.
“As enchanting as last time?” he asked.
“Yes, I think so, with someone helping empty the car, for example, it makes it easier, but the old world charm is still here, don’t you think?”
“Well yes, but my reasons for being here are possibly different, yet the same, as for you. You are here for you. I am also here for you.”
“Silly sod. I like that my son is old enough and responsible enough to look after himself for a few days, and that I can get away from stupid clients who think value for money equals lowest cost, it really, really does not, and from neighbours who think they know who you are, but really don’t, from just the way we live now, get away to a more simple life, just relax a little, you know?”
“I do. I have neighbours who take it in turn to mow and strim for hours. I sometimes wonder if there is only one set of tools and that they take it in turns to use them. It is just non stop. I like the quietness here. Occasionally you can hear a plane in the distance, but that is about it.”
We sat and sipped at our teas and then John said.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I wondered what he had in mind.
“Stand up and put this blindfold on.”
He pulled a blindfold out of his pocket. What on earth? Did he want to play blind man’s bluff or something.
“Er, okay, I suppose.”
He came across and fixed the blindfold around my head, I really couldn’t see anything.
“Okay,” he said, “I am going to undress now, but you can’t see me do it, but I shall be naked.”
“Okay, I think” what else could I say, after all, I trusted him.
I could hear the sounds of buttons, belts and clips being undone, the rustle of clothes and then silence.
“Okay. I am naked, if you need me to prove it, I will come over and you can touch me and feel for yourself.”
“I said I trust you, I don’t need you to prove it, if you say that you are naked, then you are naked. Of course if I find out that you are not, then I shall stab you.”
“No knife sharpening required. Now, I would like you to undress please. You can pass me your clothes and I will put them on the table.”
I undid my blouse and pulled it off and held it in my hand at arms stretch. I felt him tug at my Turangüneş escort blouse so I let go. No bra of course. I undid my skirt and stepped out of it and held it out, again he took it. No knickers of course.
“Right, I am naked, now what? I don’t fancy them stairs blindfolded.”
“Take my hand and follow me, I shall lead you.”
I held my hand out and he took it, holding it rather firmly. He led me across the flagstone floor, and I thought I heard the door open and there was a definite draught. What was he doing, going outside in the rain was madness. He led me outside into the rain. I felt the drops splatter on my head, and then my shoulders and my boobs, my feet were walking in puddles, was he mad.
I kept following his lead and then we were on the grassy lawn, the wet grass tickling between my feet.
“Above or below?”
“Above or below what, what on earth are we doing in the rain?”
“Above or below?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Above or below?”
I had no clue, he just kept repeating the same question.
“Oh below, I suppose,” I said with no clue of its meaning.
“Okay, below, you get the wet grass as you will be laying on it, I shall be above, protecting you from the rain, now lay down.”
“Oh you silly sod,” I said as I gingerly bent my knees to kneel and then lay down. The grass was soaking and the rain was still falling on my face and my body.
The rain then stopped landing on my body but was still on my legs. I felt breath blowing on my crease, warm, hot even as he blew. I could only imagine as I still had the blindfold on. Then the wonderful sensation of his tongue, ploughing through my furrow, widening my lips, my fanny furrow awake and receiving of his unexpected ministrations, I put my hands around his back, the rain fell on them, seemingly heavier than ever. I think I had chosen the best position, under rather than on top.
John dabbed at my clitoris, gently teasing it out from its hood. I realised his dick must me above me somewhere, and pulled a hand down from his back and, yes, found it, just above my mouth. I leant up and sucked his dick into my mouth, my lips pushing back his skin, my tongue lapping at his end. I slowly eased my head back to ground level, John’s dick followed, the stress on my neck eased, the stress in my groin growing, pressures building electrics charging.
I felt a finger at my entrance, circling, my wetness nothing to do with the rain, my opening passed, the finger inside me, wiggling, testing my electrics, pushing me to my limits. I sucked harder, I gripped his dick with my teeth and ran my tongue around the end of his dick, probing at the small hole at the end, tasting a small salty metallic flavoured bead of his arousal.
It was surreal, the actions that we were doing were usual and normal, and I often did them with my eyes closed, but here, in the garden, with a blindfold, it felt different, as if my senses were boosted somehow.
John eased his finger from me, but returned it with a friend, two fingers widening me, stretching me, my fanny walls covered with a sheen of arousal, gel like, sticky, slippery, ready.
He pulled away, his dick leaving my mouth also. I think he was moving, rain briefly fell on my boobs and then I felt his dick pressing at my entrance, pushing, entering, my body giving was as he penetrated me, filling me, pressing at my depth. He lay there for a moment, not moving, filling me, me unseeing, and then he pulled back, my fanny feeling empty but plugged. In again he came, filling, stretching pressing, and then quickly back.
I put my hands down and found his buttocks, one in each hand I pressed him to me trying to force him deeper inside. I could feel his dick inside me, touching all around my fanny, a small pulse from him ticking at my inside, the pressure of his dick pressing against my fanny is something that I think only a woman can feel, enjoy, understand and want, and I wanted it. His balls bounced off my thighs and hit my perineum just below my fanny, another tickle sensation.
My pleasures were building higher and higher, his slaps against my mons muted by the sounds of the rain which must have been falling in rivers from his back, but still I could hear my gasps as he bottomed out inside me. I wondered if the sex I was experiencing today was the sex that blind people experienced? Or was I only experiencing the enhanced feelings because my sight had only temporarily been restricted? I had a sudden jump in my pressures, my back began to stiffen and rise, I knew I was close, but how close was John?
He was so close, I felt him push in extra hard, stop, keep pressing and then his spurts and a loud sigh escape him as he ejaculated deep within me, filling my fanny, flooding my womb, and I could hold no longer and I screamed, my back arching, electrics, tingles, shooting from my groin, attacking my nipples, my fingers and my toes. My heels dug into the grass, my fingers gouged at his buttocks and my orgasm erupted, exploding through my body, rafts of pleasure taking away my breath, and I collapsed onto the grass, John slumping down on me, flattening my breasts.
“Fuck,” John gasped.
“Indeed, and we haven’t even had lunch.” I answered.
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