“I know. But it was here, and it was no trouble.” It’s not often Lulu looks shy, but she’s doing it now.
“Well, I guess I need to come up with an appropriate thank you then.” Putting my glass on the ground, I slide one hand up her bare leg and under the hem of her dress, surprised and delighted to find her bare.
“What’s this? Going commando, Ms MacLeod?” My fingers brush her already wet folds as she drops her legs to either side of the lounge and puts her untouched wine on the table. “And so ripe and ready to eat.”
“It pays to be prepared.” Sitting up, Lulu whips her dress off over her head, and just like that, she’s naked. Closing her eyes, she slides a little further down the lounge as I kneel on the ground at the end of the chair, careless of my expensive trousers, and lean forward, licking her with the flat of my tongue and smacking my lips.
One hand presses her open, while the other snakes up from her hip to her breast and I roll her already hard nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I feel the skin on her belly tighten in response as I slide my hand back to her thigh.
The only windows looking onto this roof are the dirty, frosted, reinforced windows of the factory next door. Maybe someone could see us, but I doubt it. Yet an unexpected thrill runs through me at the thought we might be watched. My hands hold her legs wide apart as I lick and suck her swollen folds. I can feel her thigh muscles straining against my hold, her breathing becoming ragged as I latch onto her clit and suck gently. Without lifting my lips, I let words tumble out. I have no idea what I’m saying, but I know Lulu loves to hear me talk while we fuck, and I can feel her edging closer to release.
My cock is throbbing, thumping to get out of my trousers, so I let go of her legs and pull myself free as quickly as I can without taking my lips off her. Lulu’s hands are in my hair, pulling and flexing in time with the pull of my mouth on her clit. Gasping for breath, I rear up, pulling her all the way to the end of the lounge. I want to plunge into her, but I need her to look at me first so, I hesitate. Her gaze finds mine.
“Now,” she demands, and that’s the signal I need to thrust into what feels like heaven. Not fast and hard, and not slow and sweet, but somewhere in between. Strong and steady and powerful. Her feet have found the floor, and she is lifting her hips off the lounge, meeting my long rhythmic strokes. I bring my hand up from her thigh, pressing and rubbing her clit with my thumb and that’s it for Lulu. Her hips buck, her spine stiffening as a furious blush rushes across her beautiful chest and up her throat to her cheeks. I pull out and stagger to my feet, grasping my cock, so slick from her orgasm. It only takes a couple of strokes before a stream of cum spills across her breasts.
“Fuck,” I gasp, folding forward until my forehead meets hers, “you are so damn beautiful.”
“If that’s the thanks I get, I might do your washing more often.” Lulu grasps the back of my head and brings her mouth to mine, tasting herself on my lips; then, with a wicked laugh, she runs a finger through the mess on her chest and brings it to her mouth to suck. I’m half-hard again already.
I fall onto the other sun lounge and, scooping up my glass, take a gulp of wine.
Recalling our conversation about pool sex—and making a mental note to fit it in sometime soon since we never got to it after ourPretty Womanre-enactment— I gesture to the windows with my glass, but my eyes are trained on her face, watching her reaction. “Do you think anyone can see us from those windows?”
She’s momentarily surprised before a wicked grin spreads across her face.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Would you like them to?”
“Have people watch me fuck the most beautiful woman in Sydney? Watch me slide my cock into your delicious pussy? Fuck yes.” I love the way her post-orgasm blush intensifies with my words. I can tell it’s only part embarrassment. The thought of being seen turns her on, too.
It crosses my mind how far off my previous path I have gone. A man with serious ambitions for politics, or law for that matter, wouldn’t even be considering what amounts to indecent exposure. This is the exact opposite of what I said to Claire about avoiding future scandals. These days, it feels like there are two of me. The lawyer me and the personal me. Right now, I don’t know which one is more real, although I have my suspicions. But the sight of Lulu so aroused is enough to get me hard again. I’m keen for round two, but Lulu insists we clean up.
“Hold that thought, Nick the Filthy.” She laughs. “We have plans.”
“Oh, have no fear. I’ll hold the thought alright.”
We eat dinner at a Vietnamese diner with Formica tables. A month ago, I’d have been more likely to call the health inspectors rather than eat there. But the food is sensational, and the staff knows Lulu by name. Predictably, they love her, and we get far more food than we actually paid for.
After dinner, we end up in a bar in Marrickville, and the place couldn’t be more Lulu if she had designed it herself. The walls are covered in memorabilia, the tables and chairs mismatched and worn, and I have never heard of any of the craft beers they have on tap. But the grizzled old guy playing the piano is doing an incredible job of sliding out some of my favourite obscure jazz tracks. I’m touched that she arranged for us to see a pianist after finding out I could play. Her thoughtfulness is humbling.
As with the restaurant, the staff all know Lulu, and so do half the disreputable-looking patrons. I wonder again how I could have missed her overwhelming charm when we first met. People are drawn to her. I watch, mesmerised, as she chats and laughs with strangers and acquaintances alike. She radiates warmth and an authenticity I have rarely seen in my life. And I’m starting to wonder if, even though this is not what I thought I wanted, perhaps it’s what I need.
As we listen to the melted chocolate notes of the performance, it occurs to me Lulu is someone who grabs life with both hands and squeezes everything she can out of it. I’m incredibly lucky she’s bringing me along for the ride.
I’ve done more real living in the past few weeks with Lulu than I’ve done in the previous thirty-three years of my life.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lulu
“AmIevergoingto meet this man you’re practically shacked up with?” Rosanna asks as we sit side by side in our favourite pedicure salon, one foot each in a foot spa, the other being massaged with hot stones.
“No. I don’t think so. And we’re not shacked up. It’s not even a thing. I told you that. It’s …”
“A thing?”
“No. It’s not a thing. It’s just casual.”
“He spends every night at your place. Seems like a thing to me.” Rosanna squirms as her pedicurist hits a ticklish spot.
