Author: Karl Shawlton
Title: Spontaneity 3
Summary: Sexiness in a south London suburb.
Chapter 3. Born to tease
Keywords: MF cons 

© 2015. All rights reserved, Karl Shawlton 

This all happened when I was sharing a house in an unfashionable suburb 
in south London with some friends. The line-up varied a little, but for 
several years there were three ever-presents: Dan (that’s me), my 
girlfriend Kate, and Becky. Now read on. 

*** 

Beth lived a few streets away from our house. She and I were friends. 
Nothing more. We had even agreed at one stage that neither of us fancied 
the other at all. And, unlike many men, I’ve never had a thing about 
redheads. 

Nevertheless, we were good enough friends for me to ask her a favour. I 
had to fly out of Gatwick airport quite early one morning. It was about 
half-an-hour’s drive from where I lived, but parking the car there was 
prohibitively expensive. It was too early for public transport, and I 
didn’t trust a taxi company to turn up on time. So I suggested to Beth 
that I would lend her the car for the week I would be away if she would 
chauffeur me to and from the airport. 

She was tempted by the possibility of having a car to run around in, but 
said she wasn’t used to driving. So I suggested a trip out some 
evening to make sure she got the hang of it. She agreed, and one 
Thursday night in spring we found ourselves sitting in a beer garden in 
the countryside just outside Greater London. Pub grub, a couple of 
drinks, pleasant chat. I’d promised to drive back, but when Beth 
suggested another drink I said no. 

“If we’re going to drink more we should get rid of the car.” 

“OK,” she said. “Let’s go park it at home and we can go to the 
late-night wine bar.” 

And that’s how I ended up sitting at the bar at getting on for 
midnight. It was a small place with not a lot of room, and I was in 
close proximity to Beth. Suddenly, she moved a bit nearer. 

“I hope you don’t mind, Dan,” she said, “but the guy on the other 
side of me is getting a bit too friendly, if you know what I mean.” 

I peered around her in the semi-darkness and saw a creepy individual 
with greasy hair and a small moustache. His hands were moving up and 
down his thighs, one of them brushing against Beth’s leg with every 
movement. 

I leaned over to whisper in Beth’s ear. “You know,” I said, 
“perhaps the best way to get rid of him is for us to get a bit 
closer.” 

Beth giggled a little, and leaned over to whisper back. 

“OK.” 

She stayed close, so I brushed my cheek against hers, then nibbled her 
earlobe. She put her hand on the back of my neck and drew me closer. I 
shifted my bar-stool a little so I could put my hand on her thigh, 
hoping not to find the moustached guy’s hand on the same leg! 
Fortunately it was unoccupied, so I gave it a little squeeze through the 
dress. 

“Beth,” I said quietly. “I know this is only for fun, but I’m 
beginning to get a bit turned on.” 

“Me too,” she murmured. 

She turned on her bar-stool to face me, presenting her back to her 
unwanted admirer on the other side. I parted my knees slightly so she 
could move nearer. I took her hand and, thankful for dim lighting, 
placed it on the growing bulge between my legs. 

“Mmm,” she said. “That feels like a lot turned on to me.” 

She took her hand away and moved her face towards mine. I kissed her 
briefly on the mouth, then again. Feeling her lips part I explored with 
my tongue, which she nibbled gently. I broke off and sat back, looking 
her in the eyes. I opened my mouth to say something, I don’t know 
what, anything to break the tension. Then, over her shoulder I saw the 
moustached guy slipping out of his seat and heading for the door. I 
sighed audibly. 

“Mission accomplished, Beth,” I said in a low voice. “He’s 
gone.” 

She didn’t move away. We sat for a couple of minutes, savouring what 
was left of our drinks. Then she looked at me. 

“We should be going. You have an early flight tomorrow. And I’m 
driving you, remember?” 

We walked out of the bar hand-in-hand. When we got out into the street I 
slid my arm around her shoulders. 

“I’ll walk you home,” I said. 

“Well in the circumstances I won’t say no,” she replied. “That 
perv at the bar really put the wind up me.” 

We walked up the street in a companionable silence, our arms around each 
other. In five minutes we were at her doorstep. Still holding my waist, 
Beth looked up at me. I held her tight and kissed her again, long, but 
not aggressively. She pressed herself against me. I pulled myself away a 
little so that I could put my hand on her breast. I cupped it in my 
hand. Despite the layers of clothing I could feel her nipple stiffen. I 
squeezed it a little, and pulled her towards me. We kissed. 

Beth broke off, and I thought I’d gone too far. But she didn’t move 
away, just looked at me. 

“Do you want to come in?” she asked. I sensed this was the now or never moment.

“Only if we can fuck each other senseless,” I answered. 

Beth just gave a cheeky grin, and produced her house keys. Opening the 
door, she took my hand and led me inside. She kicked off her shoes, and 
gestured to me to do the same. Doing so, I also took off the old denim 
jacket I was wearing and hung it on the overburdened coat-stand. Beth 
opened the door of what I took to be her bedroom. 

“Wait in there,” she said. “I need to get something.” 

I went in and sat down on the bed. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’d 
never seen Beth in this mood before, and it was quite stimulating. After 
two or three minutes I heard a soft voice from further down the 
corridor. 

“Ready for you now.” I went back into the corridor and followed the 
source of the dim light – and found myself in the kitchen, illuminated 
only by a couple of candles. 

Beth was standing in the middle of the room. Her arms were spread 
slightly, and she held a glass of wine in each of them. But my attention 
was attracted rather by what she was wearing. My denim jacket, open at 
the front, a pair of translucent white knickers – and nothing else. I 
stared at her, admiring the swell of her breasts just visible between 
the edges of my jacket, and letting my gaze drop to the reddish-brown 
patch of hair clearly visible between her legs. 

I swallowed, and in a low voice, said “You make me want to fuck the 
arse off you”. 

Beth gave me another of those cheeky grins, and handed me a glass of 
wine. Looking at each other in the eye, we each took a sip. But that was 
enough. I carefully took her drink from her and put both glasses down on 
the draining-board. Turning back to Beth, I took her by the shoulders 
and steered her backwards towards the kitchen table. Luckily I knew the 
table: it was a big plank of wood, solidly fastened to the wall. It 
would be strong enough for what I had in mind. The question was, would I 
be? 

But Beth obviously had similar thoughts, and made the job easier. As I 
took her under the armpits to hoist her up, she gave a little hop and 
ended up sitting on the edge of her table. She parted her knees, to the 
point where those knickers concealed very little. I stood back a bit and 
admired her. She began to tease me, pulling the jacket further open and 
caressing her breasts. Her nipples stood erect, very visible against the 
white skin. 

“Do you like what you see?” she asked. In answer I only managed a 
small nod. 

“Well, then,” she said. “How about a bit more?” Putting her legs 
together briefly, she hitched her bum off the table and slid off her 
knickers, then parted her legs again. 

“The jacket stays on,” she said. “I’ve rather taken a fancy to 
it. But you need to be naked.” 

What could I do? She clearly wanted to call the shots. So I pulled off 
my t-shirt and dropped my trousers, followed quickly by the underpants 
(happy to remember that I’d worn a decent pair and not the off-white 
ones with the elastic going that I kept meaning to throw away). 

I stood about a metre from Beth. My cock, which was pointing straight at 
her bush, gave a small twitch, and she giggled. 

“I guess he likes the view, too, eh?” 

Licking her finger, she drew it up and down her open slit a couple of 
times. 

“Do you think he wants to come in?” 

“I know I want him to,” I replied. I took a step towards her, but 
she held up her hand to stop me. 

“Ah-ah!” she said. “I haven’t finished my wine.” 

I turned, picked up her glass and handed it to her, then took a drink 
from my own. 

“Get the bottle,” she said. “It’s in the fridge.” 

I felt a bit ridiculous, bending down with my throbbing erection to get 
the bottle out of the bottom of the fridge, but managed it somehow. 

“Give it to me,” she commanded. I made to pour her a glass, but she 
took the bottle from my hand. 

“I rather fancy finishing this in bed.” 

And with that she jumped down from the table, brushed past me (which 
didn’t do anything to cool my passion) and walked to the door, her 
arse swaying. I watched her silhouette in the dim light of the corridor 
make its way towards the bedroom. When she reached the door, she 
stopped. 

“Are you coming?” she called. 

“Almost!” I replied, “but I think I can hold off a bit.” 

“Well, hurry up! And don’t forget the candles.”