The Boarder

She lay back on the faded mauve bedspread, the pleated skirt of her crumpled red netball uniform barely covering her knees.

"Where's your Mother?" he asked her.

She pouted, lifting one leg to examine the chipped scarlet polish on her grubby toe nails. The sweet-sour scent of girl sweat filled the tiny attic bedroom.

He sat at the computer, pretending to work, trying to hide furtive glances at the exposed crotch of her white panties.

"Gone shopping," she sighed. "Boring!"

She dropped her foot back on to the bed and stretched out, regarding him through half-closed eyelids.

"Alan, do you like me?"

"Of course I do, what's not to like?"

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Pretty? Nah."

She glared at him and threw herself back down on the pillow, her long, blonde hair fanning out behind her head.

He knew this was his chance. If this wondrous combination of sexy innocence was ever to be his, this was a defining moment.

"Little girls and chocolate boxes are pretty. Women are beautiful. You're very beautiful."

She stretched out on the bed and purred like a contented cat. Home run, he thought triumphantly.

"Beautiful women are desirable. Do you think I'm desirable?"

Desirable? In the three months since he came to board with her and her mother why should he find this 18-year-old desirable? When she sunbathed on the back lawn under the apple tree in her blue and white spotted bikini, the dappled shadows playing on her long brown legs while the white tops of her tiny breasts peeped out above the lace, why would any man want her? When he watched her suck a lollipop, why would he imagine what else those active lips and pointed tongue might do?

When she tumbled out to the kitchen from her bed late on a Sunday morning in yellow summer pyjamas, and stretched out languidly on the old couch exposing her dimpled navel why would he ever feel a lurch of lust, the stirring of an erection?

And when he read the morning paper on the veranda and she leaned against his shoulder to see a movie advertisement, the top of her pyjamas falling forward giving him a glimpse of a vanilla-coloured breast and cherry nipple, why would he feel desire?

"I said, am I desirable?" she growled loudly.

"What do you think? Of course you are."

There was silence for a moment, then she patted the bed beside her.

"Come here," she ordered.

He could no more disobey than he could stop his heart beating. He sat beside her on the bed. She pushed at his leg with her foot.

"Touch me," she said quietly.

He took her foot in both hands and massaged it slowly, slipping his fingers between her toes. She lay back and closed her eyes.

"That's nice," she said. "Now go higher."

He ran a trembling hand up to her knee and felt her intake of breath as his fingers outlined the knee cap.

"Higher." She said the word so softly he had to strain to determine whether she had spoken at all.

His hands moved up on to her thigh. The tips of his fingers reached the elastic of her panties, where the skin was smooth, warm and slightly damp. Her breathing was fast and shallow .

"Do you want me to take them off?" she whispered.

"No," he said. Her eyes shot open with surprise.

"I'll do it," he added quickly.

Her eyes closed again, a smile playing around her lips.

She lifted her buttocks off the bed to help him remove her underwear. The short red skirt rode up around her waist, but she made no effort to pull it back down. Instead she lay back and closed her eyes again, her legs slightly parted.

He sat on the bed beside her and gazed at the blonde fuzz between her thighs, the pink lips slightly open, glistening in the morning sun. She sat up and took his hand, picking out the index finger. Falling back, she drew the finger to her mouth, kissed it and ran the tip of her tongue around the finger nail. Then she took his finger into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his.

Slowly she sucked on him, then drew his hand down below her waist. Still holding his finger she pulled it up between her legs. He felt it enter her slick tunnel and she let go of his hand.

"Finger fuck me," she whispered.

He inserted a second finger and sought out the little nub at her entrance. As he started to caress it, she fell back on the bed.

"That's beautiful," she sighed.

He couldn't stop himself from asking: "Better than your boyfriend?"

She chuckled and nodded. Don't stop, she breathed.

Her hips were moving now, with a life of their own. She started to moan, crying out his name, lifting her bottom off the bedspread, clutching with her hands at his moving arm.

"Oh, Jesus, you're wonderful, keep doing that, I'm coming, don't stop…" the words poured out as her thighs mashed together, capturing his hand between them. She shuddered, her mouth open and eyes shut, moaning. Then she suddenly relaxed and her legs went limp, releasing his hand. She leaned her head against the pillow and regarded him with a wicked grin.

"Christ," she panted, " You're incredible.I've never come like that before." She wriggled down the bed and deposited her head on his lap.

"Now, " she said, "its your turn, mister."

Her fingers unbuckled his belt and drew down the zip. He got up and his pants tumbled to the floor. He stepped out of them and stood by the bed, the bulge in his shorts only a few inches from her face. She reached out to trace its length under the material.

She watched as his drew the elastic band down, his erection leaping out at her.

"Nice," she whispered. "Very yummy. Time for breakfast."

With both hands she gripped his buttocks and pulled his penis to her lips. She kissed the head and softly inserted the tip of her tongue into the opening. Then she opened her mouth and ran her tongue around him.

"Look at me," he ordered. "I want to look into your eyes when I come."

Her eyes shot up and locked on his. With one hand she held his balls, the other gripped his shaft, moving the head of his cock in and out of her moist lips. Her tongue sought out the sensitive spot behind the head and she lapped at it greedily.

For an instant he remembered the first time he had seen her, sitting on the porch licking an ice cream, her pink tongue covered with gooey white. His imagination had often relived that moment, he had dreamed of feeling those warm lips close over the head of his cock, imagined coming in her mouth.

He was near to climax and she could sense it. She dropped her eyes for a moment as she sucked harder.

"Look at me," he instructed. "Look at me and swallow it."

For an instant he thought he saw a frightened, uncertain look on her face as she stared up at him. Then her tongue captured the spot again and he erupted, his balls lifting tight against his body, his penis going into rapid spasms as he ejaculated. He held her head gently as she locked her lips around his cock, not moving now, her eyes still boring into his as he filled her mouth.

She swallowed hard once, then a second time. As his cock softened, she retreated, then returned to lick him clean.

The front door banged shut and footsteps echoed on the varnished hall floor.

"Its your mother, for fuck sake get out of here."

She jumped off the bed and picked up her panties, dangling them momentarily in front of his nose.

"Till next time," she grinned and skipped out the door.