Nibbling Fortuna's Toes

One of Dad's friends helped me with the paperwork after Dad's death. I inherited the house outright with no mortgage and had some money from the Army and insurance, not a lot, but enough to help me until I could become fully qualified at work, which I am now except for the award ceremony next month. I'll get a promotion and better pay, probably in October."

"So I'm driving a wealthy man who's going places?"

"Not exactly. You haven't seen my house. It's better now than when we bought it because Dad and I worked on it, mending the roof, a sagging wall, removing wet rot and that sort of thing. I still have to decorate several rooms and the bathroom is an antique -- working but not pretty. The bathroom is this winter's project."

Laura stopped the car outside their flat, parking just behind mine.

She looked at me.

"This is it. Decision time. Am I coming with you to your house?"

"Yes, if you want to. It can be without preconditions. You can sleep in the spare bedroom or in my bed if you want to. Even if you are in my bed that doesn't mean we have to make love. It's your choice."

"Thanks. Wait here. I'll just get some things and I'll be with you."

While Laura was gone I looked at the engine of her car. The accelerator linkage needed greasing and the carburettor was mucky. The fan belt was slightly loose. Otherwise everything seemed fine so I wouldn't have much to do to sort her car out.

Laura was carrying a sports bag. For a night or two away it didn't seem much. I'd expected her to bring far more.

I wrote down my address and phone number in case we became separated on the way to my house. I didn't think we would because traffic at that time on a Sunday was light and we had to drive just a couple of miles.

Laura's car stuck behind me all the way. I drove to the side of my house, waved her alongside me, and we both parked off the road on the levelled bombsite that had been the house next door -- until the 1940 blitz. I was paying the executors of the recently deceased owners a small annual rent to use the site.

Laura looked at my house.

"It looks great," she said.

"It does now. It was a wreck when we bought it. It had been damaged in the Blitz and never repaired. Let's go in and I'll make some coffee and show you around."

I put the kettle on and took Laura around the house. She was amazed that it was tidy and reasonably clean. Upstairs she stopped on the landing.

"How many bedrooms has it got?" She said looking at the doors on the landing and the stairway leading further up.

"Three down here. There could be another two or three up there but I haven't renovated them yet. I've done the basics, the windows, the plaster, and the electrics but I haven't decided whether to have two bedrooms and a large bathroom or three bedrooms and a small bathroom. Before I do, I've got to do this bathroom."

I opened the bathroom door. The bath was an old roll-top standing on ornate legs. The toilet had a high-level flush. The washbasin stood on a cast iron frame. I'd repainted the bath inside and out so it didn't look too bad but everything was old fashioned.

"It's better than ours," Laura said. "At least you have room to move around in it. We don't."

I knew. I had sorted out their erratic plumbing.

"Which is your bedroom, Derek?"

"This one."

I opened the door. Laura walked in. She looked at the massive double bed and the Victorian wardrobe, dressing table and chest of drawers. She walked over to the window and looked out.

"There's not much of a view from anywhere," I said. "Just rows of houses."

Laura came back towards me.

"All the view I want is here," she said, hugging me before she kissed me.

We went downstairs for coffee and perched on the kitchen stools.

"Shall I sort out your car now?" I asked. "We still have daylight. Once I've fixed things we would have the rest of the evening together and perhaps tomorrow."

The telephone rang in the hall. I picked it up. It was my boss. He wanted me to go to Birmingham on Thursday. I agreed and then asked if I could have Monday as a day-in-lieu. He was slightly reluctant but agreed. I went back to the kitchen and told Laura. She hugged me again.

"See," she said, "Fortuna has smiled on us -- again. We owe her and her toes a lot."

"I suppose so, but if we have a day together I'd like to fix your car now. We can go out tomorrow -- all day if your car is done."

"Can I help?"

"Of course."

We finished the coffee. I took a pair of axle stands out to the bombsite and jacked her car up. I removed the wheel bearing, packed it with grease and fitted a new split pin to the retaining nut. While the rear wheels were in the air I adjusted the brakes. I lowered the car and repeated the adjustments on the front brakes. Laura drove her car around the block. The brakes worked perfectly. They hadn't been unbalanced, just poorly adjusted.

I tightened the fan belt slightly, greased the throttle linkage and then removed the carburettor. I dismantled it, washed it in petrol, dried it and refitted it. While Laura pressed the accelerator I adjusted the carburettor so that the engine ran smoothly. She drove it around the block again.

"It sounds different," she said.

"So it should," I replied. "It's correctly adjusted, the brakes aren't binding and the wheel bearing is as it should be."

We went back into the house. I cleaned myself up while Laura made us some more coffee. I sat down with the coffee.

"What are we eating tonight?" Laura asked.

"Well," I said, "there is some food here but I thought we could go to a café around the corner. They do three course meals on Sunday evenings for a reasonable price. I don't usually cook on Sundays because I go out. Would a café meal do?"

Laura nodded.

"Breakfast?"

I opened a cupboard door to show a range of cereals.

"You can choose any of those. Or do you want a cooked breakfast?"

"Cereal will do but why do you have so much?"

"Sometimes one or two of my father's Army friends stay here when they are visiting London. They used to come to help me with the house repairs and to make sure I was OK, but now they use me as a base for a couple of days. I like talking to them about my father and since I've been to many of the places that they have, we can talk even if they're much older than I am."

"That's why you have a spare bedroom?"

"I have two spare bedrooms at present. I can put up anything from one to four visitors as long as they don't mind sharing a room. As Army types that's no problem. Once I had eight here. Several of them used sleeping bags on the living room floor."

"Are you expecting any visitors tonight?"

"Only you. They warn me days in advance if they're coming."

I turned my head and looked at the wall calendar.

"The next time someone's due is three weeks away."

"So we have tomorrow to ourselves?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go to the café. I'll cook for you tomorrow evening."

"If you want to, Laura. I must warn you about the café. They know me there, and Beatrice."

"Beatrice? She's been here?"

"Only in passing after a day or evening out. I don't think she ever went further than downstairs."

Laura seemed to think about that.

"Why did you need to warn me about the café?"

"They'll want to know who you are. They might not ask, but they will want to know about Beatrice. Angelo, the owner, liked her and was interested in her sporting activities, far more than I am. He plays the part of an amorous Italian. He even tried pinching Beatrice's backside once but she shoved him away so hard he hit the café's wall. He treated her with respect after that."

"He'd better not try pinching my bum. I thump harder than Beatrice."

"He won't. I explained that English girls don't react as Italian ones would. Most Italian girls, according to Angelo, think that having their backside pinched is a compliment. I'm not so sure that he was telling the truth about Italian girls. Anyway, Beatrice's reaction got him in trouble with Bella, his wife. She liked Beatrice too."

"Liked? Why the past tense?"

"Well, now that Beatrice and I have decided to be nothing but friends, I'm less likely to take her there."

"I don't see why not. She's still your friend, and mine."

"OK, but tonight we're going. I'll introduce you to Angelo and Bella -- as Beatrice's friend. That do?"

"Yes."

A few minutes later we walked around the corner to Angelo's café. It was nearly empty. Angelo was delighted to see me, even more delighted to meet Laura, as Beatrice's friend. Bella came out from the kitchen to meet Laura.

After the meal Laura went to wash her hands. Bella sat in her chair for a few seconds.

"This one is better for you, Derek. Beatrice is nice but not your type."

"I know, Bella. We've agreed to be friends and nothing more."

"That's good. I think Beatrice will be a good friend but not a partner. We'll miss her. Angelo became excited every time she came here because she looks so wonderful. He says that she reminds him of what I looked like when I was young. It's not true. I was good looking, yes, but never like Beatrice."

"You're still good-looking now, Bella," I said.

Bella stood up, kissed me on the cheek, and patted my shoulder.

"You would make a good diplomat, Derek. I'm a middle-aged Italian housewife..."

"...who cooks great meals and smiles beautifully," I added.

Bella really smiled. When she smiles like that I could see the woman she had been. No wonder Angelo loves her.

Bella pecked me on the cheek again as Laura came back.

"Kissing the cook? I know the meal was good but did you need to kiss Bella?"

"She kissed me," I protested. "She thinks she's my Italian mother whose job it is to make sure I eat properly and marry the right girl. She was telling me that Beatrice wasn't the right girl but we both knew that."

"I think I need to keep an eye on you," Laura said mock seriously. "I go to wash my hands and come back to find an attractive Italian Signora kissing you. Have you any more so-called mothers around that I should know about?"

"No. Bella's the only one although some of the older women at my work can be motherly..."

"Motherly! I'll bet they are!"

"None of them are serious but they treat me as an orphan who needs to be watched in case he's not looking after himself properly."

Bella brought our coffees.

"Hang on to this one, Laura," Bella said. "He's a good one."

"I know," Laura replied, "But what do I do when I find him kissing you?"

Bella laughed.

"He didn't. I kissed him. That's different. He's a good friend. He and his father helped us rebuild this café and Derek is always there when we need help with the council's paperwork. He won't accept free meals from us, so a motherly kiss or two is nothing."

"As long as they are motherly, Bella."

"You're jealous of me? Surely not. You should trust him. I do. Angelo does. Beatrice does. Ask anyone around here. We all like Derek."

I was getting embarrassed. Bella stood beside me and patted my shoulder.

"I wish I'd had a bambino like this one."

She went back to the kitchen.

"What am I to make of that, Derek? Bella thinks you're wonderful. So does Angelo. Beatrice told me that you were nice but not for her. I thought she was pushing me towards you to give what she couldn't but now? Is she stupid?"

"You know she's not, Laura. We just don't share the same interests. I like her. She likes me. That isn't enough. You know it isn't. Bella likes me. I like her, and Angelo, but we're just friends. Angelo was stunned by Beatrice when she first came here. So were most of the customers. This is a small community where everyone knows everyone else. If you come here again, even without me, they'll know who you are, that you are my friend and Beatrice's."

"I don't want to be known as Beatrice's friend. I want to be yours."

"You are, Laura. You know you are and you might be more than just a friend. We have tomorrow to get to know each other better. Let's change the subject. What do you want to do tomorrow? The weather forecast is still good. We could go out of London, perhaps to another National Trust property, or to the sea..."

"The sea! I haven't been to the seaside for years."

"Then the sea it will be. Anywhere specific or will you leave it to me?"

"Somewhere where it isn't too crowded, too stony, yet there are facilities nearby."

"OK. I think I can meet those requirements but it's a longish drive and we should start early, perhaps leaving about eight o'clock to avoid the traffic. Can you be ready by eight?"

"Of course. I'm a shift worker. I can get ready for any time."

"Perhaps we should go to bed reasonably early instead of sitting up talking."

"Bed sounds good."

I wasn't sure that Laura meant that she was tired or that she wanted to drag me off to bed with her. We finished the coffee, I paid the small bill, and we walked back to my house.

Laura insisted on using the spare bedroom to change while I went to the large bed to wait for her. She walked into my bedroom wearing a too-large T-shirt. She got into bed beside me. I was lying on my back.

"Light on, or off?" I asked.

"Off, please, Derek."

She snuggled up to me, resting her head on my shoulder.

"What do we do now, Derek?"

"Up to you, Laura. Whatever you are comfortable about."

Laura lifted herself up to kiss me. Her hair fell either side of my face. If the light had been on I wouldn't have been able to see much. She had let her hair down and combed it out. It was longer than I had thought, shoulder length, possibly a bit more.

Despite my best endeavours I couldn't resist becoming erect. Laura felt it against her leg.

"Down boy!" She ordered. "Not yet!"

"I can't help it," I protested.

"I'm sure you can't," Laura replied. "If you could, I'd be worried. I think Fortuna has done her best for us. I'm in bed with you. That's one of the things I asked for. You have tomorrow off. You asked Fortuna and now we have tomorrow for us. That reminds me. What did you ask the Goddess for when you were with Beatrice?"

"That we could recognise that we would only ever be friends."

"Then Fortuna has granted almost everything we asked for, hasn't she?"

"Everything I asked for -- yes. I don't know what you asked Fortuna."

"My last request will have to remain a secret for a little while, wrapped up like Fortuna's toes. Toes! You promised that my toes would be nibbled. They can be, now!"

"They're at the wrong end of the bed," I protested.

"Easily fixed. You know where they are. Go nibble!"

Laura giggled as I burrowed down her legs between the sheets. My hands found an ankle. I grasped it and lifted the foot towards my mouth. I kissed each toe slowly, opened my mouth and tried to nibble the little toe. Laura snatched it away.

"That tickles!"

"So it should. Shall I try again?"

"No. I think I get the idea. Perhaps later. Since you are down there how about working your way up my legs?"

"OK, Laura. Legs it is."

I kissed each leg above the ankles. I licked. Laura's legs were beautifully smooth to the touch of my lips and tongue. She squirmed and giggled as I approached her knees. She became quiet and still as I reached the inside of her thighs. I could hear her breathing hard as I gently opened her legs so I could kiss further up. Her thighs were soft, silky, yielding at first but with muscle underneath.

She flinched as my tongue touched the first of her pubic hairs. She sighed as I kissed her hard. Her legs spread wider. I followed the warmth to a scented place. My tongue reached in. Laura's hands cradled my head as I moved deeper. I began to move my head in and out. Laura's hands taught me the rhythm she wanted.

Her hands pressed harder. I worked my tongue in and around, losing myself between her legs that wound over my back. Laura was panting hard. Her hands were insistent. I matched her tempo as she began to squeal above me. I couldn't keep doing this. Laura's body was starving me of breath. I tried to grab some air between her hands thrusting my face against her, but I was failing to get enough.

Laura squealed once more, much louder, and her hands relaxed. I turned my face to one side and panted against her soft thigh. Her hands stroked my head softly.

Once I had my breath back I returned to kissing and tonguing her. Her hands guided me, less fiercely this time, but she made sure I knew where and when she wanted me. Laura started squealing much earlier. Her legs clamped hard around me. Her hands pulled me deeper into the damp cave between her legs.

I heard a breathy "Yes!" as she came again.

She pulled my head to rest on her stomach. I relaxed against it for a few minutes until I thought Laura was ready for more. She was.

I slid my face between her legs again and, slower this time, I brought her back to the peak and beyond.

Laura wriggled me up the bed. She slumped against my shoulder.

"Goodnight," she whispered as I wrapped my arms around her.

She didn't mean it. A hand was wrapped around my erection, stroking it gently. She rolled to her back. I penetrated her. I tried to prolong the coupling but I had been too excited by making her come and she was clamping hard around me. Soon, too soon, I had come inside her.

"Now, it is really goodnight, Derek," Laura said as I lay beside her. "Sleep well, and have this to remind you I'm here."

Her breast pushed against my face. Her fingers slid the erect nipple between my lips. I opened my mouth. More of Laura's breast followed, almost more than I could put into my mouth. Laura pulled her T-shirt behind my head and held me to her breast as we went to sleep.

I stirred later. Laura's breast had gone. She was sleeping on my shoulder and my arm was around her. I went back to sleep listening to her steady breathing.

The next morning I left Laura sleeping while I shaved and showered. As I went downstairs to the kitchen I heard her moving around. I had just made the coffee when she appeared.

"That was fast," I said.

"Practice," Laura replied. "As a shift worker I have had to learn how to get ready quickly if I am to be at work on time."

We had breakfast and I washed up the few items.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

"Your car or mine?" Laura asked.

"Mine, I think," I replied. "It has more fuel in it than yours."

"I could fill mine up," she retorted.

"You could, but we ought to be on the road as soon as possible to avoid the traffic jams..."

"On a Monday?"

"OK, perhaps they won't be so bad on a weekday, but until the government builds more motorways, any route to the coast has choke points."

"Where are we going, Derek?"

"Camber Sands? There's a long sandy beach and it shouldn't be crowded."

"I've heard of Camber Sands, but I've never been there."

"Then that's where we'll go."

The journey might have been boring except that Laura and I spent so much time talking about ourselves, what we wanted from life, and how we might get there.

Even crawling through the traffic in Sevenoaks and Tonbridge seemed bearable with an intelligent entertaining woman by my side.

I drove to the main car park which was almost empty. We had a coffee in the café and set off for a walk along the beach. For once there was no wind to whip stinging sand around our legs but the day would soon be hot. We took our shoes off and paddled through some of the channels left on the beach before dabbling in the water as the tide retreated.

Laura had no problems. Her mini-dress was well above the water. I had rolled my trousers up but they kept slipping down and I was wet to the knees.

"We should have brought swimming costumes," Laura said, "but mine's at home, not even at the flat. I want to go in but..."

"Even with the few people around, you'd raise eyebrows if you stripped off. We haven't brought a towel."