Date: Wed, 8 Dec 2004 23:35:08 +0000 (GMT) From: sam c Subject: window shopping - part 2 This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to anyone, anywhere, anywhen is purely coincidental. This story involves sex between adults in various combinations. If that's not your thing, or if it is illegal in any way, then stop reading. Otherwise, enjoy! ----------------------------------------------------------- The store was starting to get busy with the morning rush as I sauntered out of the warehouse in surprisingly high spirits. I looked in on the main freezer to check on my stock and rounded up my day staff to give out instructions. Glancing across towards the checkouts as I spoke, I could see Pam down the other end of the shop, talking to someone I didn't recognise. I headed up to the canteen and saw that she wasn't far behind. "Morning, mate, how're you doing?" she asked, as if nothing had happened between us barely an hour ago. "Fine, yourself?", I replied, equally nonchalantly. Two can play at that game, I thought. Pam nodded and continued walking towards the canteen. When we reached the doors, however, she stopped suddenly, causing me to almost collide with her. "I just got a message about Denise, seems she's running late today so I'll be a bit short of supervisors. Any chance you could fill in around lunchtime?" I used to work on that department quite a few years ago, and I still knew the ropes. "Shouldn't be a problem, I've just got some ordering to do then I think I can leave Darren to take care of things. Around noon, then?" Pam replied in the affirmative and we parted to sit at different tables with our respective friends. Lunchtime came, and I was back in the canteen, trying to squeeze gossip out of anyone and everyone. "So, Mary, what's up with Denise today?" I asked as I slurped my carrot and coriander soup. Mary, the canteen supervisor, shook her head slowly. "Heard it's some family stuff, she's not ill, I'm sure. Apparently," she leaned forward confidentially, "her brother has moved in with her now." My stomach did a flip-flop. It was bad enough knowing that Jamie was her brother, without hearing that they now lived in the same house! I kept my voice neutral as I spoke. "Why's that then? He's only, what, seventeen?" "Eighteen, actually," said another voice, Deborah, who used to work on the checkouts but now has transferred to the bakery. "Parents split up, Dad dies, hey presto, sister looking after brother whilst mother drinks herself silly every night. Welcome to Denise Barker." Deborah leaned back in her chair, and her smugness at knowing all the facts annoyed me immensely. However, her insensitivity about the situation that Denise was in annoyed me even more so, and before I knew what I was doing, my left fist shot out and caught her on the side of her jaw. Without a word, I stood up and left the room, walked downstairs, got in my car and drove home. I knew I would be sacked. Hitting another member of staff, for whatever reason, was usually enough to wrap things up, not to mention walking out in the middle of a shift. I was just glad that it happened whilst I was sticking up for a friend. The phone call came when I was half way through my bottle of Glenmorangie. It was Jo, the Personnel Manager. "Hello, I wondered if you could come in to talk to me?" I waited. "Hello? I think we should try to resolve things here, don't you?" I kept my silence. "Listen, from what I've heard, although you were wrong to do what you did, you were pretty well justified in doing so. Please come in and see me." I gave in. "I'll be in tomorrow morning. I want Pam and Denise there." "Well, Pam is in, but I'm not sure whether Denise will be in, you know, she's had the..." "Never mind," I cut her off. "I'm going to see her now. Thanks, Jo." I hung up and went out to my car, thought better of it and walked to the bus stop. It was only 2 o'clock pm. The stone-built building looked singularly uninviting to the unfamiliar visitor. I walked, or rather staggered, to the front door and rang the bell. I then ran away and hid behind a bush in the garden, until the door banged open and a male voice spoke. "I can see you, you know, behind that bush." I recognised Jamie's tones, and sheepishly sidled up to the door. What was I doing there? What did I want? I couldn't even remember, such was the clouding effect of the whisky. "Jamie? Is that you? What's up, mate?" I asked, desperately trying to regain some sense of normality. As I glanced up at him, he shook his head thoughtfully. "Sorry, chuck, you're on your own here. Unless you came to see me?" His hopeful tone made me feel even worse. He knew what I wanted, but was going to make me suffer for it. "Jamie, is Denise in now? I--I need to talk to her." He nodded his head, then contradicted himself at the same time. "No, she's out. Maybe you and me could go somewhere, though, have a night out?" I felt the heat rising, and kept my temper in check with a great deal of effort. "Jamie, I know your sister is around, now let me in and tell her I am here, before I get angry, ok?" He stepped aside with a flourish and disappeared, leaving me standing alone in the hallway wishing I had followed my first instinct and gone to a pub. I walked in, the wooden floor creaking under my feet. `I bet it's haunted,' I thought with a giggle. My feet gave way under me and I had to lean against the wall for support. "Here, let me help." Jamie reappeared carrying a bottle and glasses, took my arm and led me into what appeared to be the sitting room, with a huge stone fireplace and a couple of impressive-looking rugs covering the bare stone floor. "Want a drink?" he asked, already pouring whisky into the two small tumblers. I nodded and took one from him gratefully. "So," he started, leaning back in a chair and inviting me to do the same, "why do you want to see my sister?" His tone was genuine, and when our eyes met I could sense his sincerity. Despite his young age, Jamie seemed a caring, sensitive chap. I lowered my head. "It was a really shite day today." I whispered, on the verge of tears. I cradled my glass and closed my eyes. I heard movement, then felt a warm hand on my arm. Jamie spoke again. "Tell me what happened. I'll listen, but just be honest with me, no messing. Deal?" I smiled. "Deal," I said with feeling, taking a slurp of whisky. Jamie leaned back, his arm around my shoulders, and I found myself studying him again. He really did look like Denise, his build, face, hair, eyes. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I didn't understand why -- I had been in far worse situations in the past and lived through it. I explained what had happened with Pam, and how I had argued with Deborah in the canteen, but couldn't tell this handsome young lad that the reason behind the argument was that I was in love with his big sister. The end result was that it all sounded rather false, and Jamie pointed this out whilst pouring the second round of drinks. I skirted around this, and finally he backed down. "I'm just off to the loo -- will you be ok?" he asked, placing his glass down in front of him. I nodded. The second he was gone, I reached down and unfastened my trousers. I had been feeling turned on, horny, excited, however you want to describe it, since I walked through the front door, and desperately felt the need to touch myself. I stretched out my fingers and slipped my hand underneath my boxers, which I found infinitely preferable to women's underwear. My fingers brushed over my clitoris and I stretched out further, sprawling in the chair as close to horizontal as I could get. I had been wet for a while and the shorts were soaked. I tipped my head backwards and slowly drew circles with my fingers, every slight movement causing a throb of pleasure, the way it does when a woman is extremely turned on. The heat from the open fire wafted up and caressed my thighs, and I opened my knees as wide as my trousers, pulled down to my ankles, would allow. I slipped a finger inside me, curling it upwards every few seconds and shuddering with the pleasure it brought as my other hand continued to massage my swollen clitoris. Gasping, my body shuddered as I reached orgasm within a few minutes, and I let out an involuntary moan. A few more seconds and I relaxed, my hand still between my legs. Sitting quietly, I remembered where I was. I wasn't sure how long I had been at it, but I had sat up straight and put my clothing in order before I heard a noise outside the room. It was Jamie, being blatantly obvious about entering the room. I knew immediately that he had seen, or heard, what I had been doing. I decided to get the first word in. "Did you enjoy that, love?" I asked in a playful manner. Might as well make light of the situation. He grinned and pointed to the bulge in his trousers. "Yeah, I did. Sorry, I should have left you to it but you're quite irresistible, you know." I grinned at him and we both picked up our drinks. He shifted again and sat close to me, and I backed off instinctively. "Are we, or aren't we?" he asked, looking me in the eye. Part of me screamed `No, I want Denise!', whilst part whispered quietly `Go on, why not?'. I stuck with my first instincts, fastened my trousers, pulled my shirt into place and moved to a roomy chair next to the blazing fire. My watch told me it was almost 6pm. I glanced at his youthful face, flushed and round, and cursed myself for what I was doing to the young man sitting opposite me. "Jamie, I don't want to hurt you." I stated as sincerely as I could, knowing that that was exactly what I was doing. He shrugged his broad shoulders as if he didn't care. "I knew you wanted Denise," he said in a low voice. "I was just hoping you'd change your mind." I felt like I was the most insensitive user on the face of the Earth, and I could barely bring myself to speak. "Jamie, please, don't hate me for this. I know we don't know each other well, but we are both here with all the facts." He had told me that he was seeing a girlfriend, which made me feel slightly better about things. "Look, I've got to go out. She'll be back soon," Jamie told me as he hurriedly grabbed his coat from the stand. He disappeared, leaving me in a strange house wondering what the hell was going on. 7pm arrived, and I had dozed off by the fire. Keys turned in the door and I awoke with a start. I was still pretty pissed, but sat up hurriedly. "Hello, Jamie?" I asked, standing up and brandishing a handy dessert spoon. A light turned on in the hallway and I relaxed. A burglar would in no way be able to find that switch, as it was behind a bookcase. As I waved my spoon about, the figure took shape. "Hi, what are you doing here?" Denise asked, pulling off her coat and draping it over the stand. I stood mutely, trying to think of an excuse. In the end, I said nothing, and Denise walked on into the lounge. I settled back in my chair and waited. Denise is about five feet six inches tall, blonde hair, medium build. The main thing people remember her for is her personality -- she is patient, caring and funny, kind-hearted and intelligent. "Well, this is my house, so I get to ask the questions!", she said, smiling. I waited again. Denise lounged out on the chair that Jamie had occupied a few hours ago. Finally, I thought I had better speak. "Good day? I hear Jo's been on the warpath again." She nodded and stretched out, reaching her legs towards the fire. She was still wearing her work clothes but had unfastened the top couple of buttons of the blue shirt she wore and rolled up the sleeves, despite the cold outside. "She's ok, she's got a tough job, keeping the likes of us in check," replied Denise. She looked at me with an amused expression. "Want to tell me what happened earlier, or do I have to guess." I shifted uncomfortably and looked away. "Oh, nothing really. Deborah just annoyed me, that's all." Denise raised her eyebrows questioningly and leaned forward in her chair. "I don't think you'd punch someone just for `annoying you'. Was it to do with Pam?" "No, it wasn't. Just forget it, I'll deal with it tomorrow, and find out if I've still got a job." Denise laughed and stood up, walked over to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. "It'll be fine, they won't sack you. A while ago, Paul out of the warehouse knocked out Darren, some argument about a girl, and Jo just gave him a ticking off." She squeezed my shoulders reassuringly and ruffled my hair, her fingers seeming to linger ever so slightly before she let go and walked silently over to a large, stone-framed window seat where she perched, facing outwards away from me. I watched her every move in reflective silence. Her whole demeanour and posture did not look right somehow, even the way she spoke was different, and it was not the usual happy, confident Denise I had come to know. As she sat, frame silhouetted against the brightness of the outdoor security lights, her head and shoulders leaned against the window, each breath causing mist to spread over the cold glass panes. She looked a picture of misery, and it was affecting me. If what that loathsome witch Deborah said was true, I knew the simple explanation behind Denise's feelings, but I didn't know what I could do to help. A little voice upstairs said `Anything is better than nothing,' and I rose before I thought better of it. Moving to stand behind my friend, I realised that tears streaked her fair cheeks, with some rolling down the window and making tracks in the condensation. With a deep breath I placed both hands on the tops of Denise's arms and squeezed gently. Neither hearing nor feeling any objection, I slid one, then the other down her back and around her waist, sitting behind her on the stone seat. It was freezing, and I had to bite back an "Oh, Jesus!" that hovered on the tip of my tongue. Both arms around her, I leaned forward and rested my chin on her shoulder. She leaned backwards in response and turned so that her head nestled against my chest. Holding her warm body tightly, I gently kissed the top of her head. Her hair smelled wonderful, fruity and fresh, and I breathed in deeply. She snuggled closer to me and I could still feel her shaking silently as she wrestled with whatever was causing her sadness. Stroking her hair and side of her face, I noticed every detail, the silky blond locks falling over her ears, the softness of her cheeks, ears red from the cold. We sat that way for ages, or so it seemed, sharing our warmth and drawing strength from each other. There is nothing on this earth more comforting than the caring touch of another human being, and I had not felt so relaxed for a long time. Finally, Denise lifted her head and looked at me curiously. Her eyes were red but she wore a slight smile. I grinned back and hugged her again. She responded by reaching her arms around my neck and gently kissing me on the lips, with no sense of urgency or dramatics. I responded warmly, moving my hands to her thighs and stroking them, inviting a reaction. Our tongues met, and though the kiss moved from friendly to become passionate, loving even, there was nothing hurried about it. Her legs parted and I allowed my hand to travel further up the inside of her thigh on top of her trousers, ever so slightly brushing the seam at the top with my thumb before continuing down the other leg. I heard a little gasp and our lips parted, and Denise leaned against my chest again, murmuring "Carry on, mate," softly into my shirt collar. I dragged my fingers up more slowly this time, pausing to run my thumb up the seam at the top of her trousers to the bottom of the zip. The gasp of pleasure was more audible this time, and I decided it was time to stop teasing. I tugged down the zip of her trousers and undid the button, causing them to part just enough. It was dark now, the lights outside having switched off and the fire behind us died down to embers. Sliding my hand inside her underwear, I ran my fingers through her soft patch of hair and parted the folds covering her womanhood. She was already fairly wet and I was able to easily slide my thumb up and down in very slight movements, first down one side then the other of her swollen clit, slowly and delicately. I was rewarded with a moan and Denise stiffened, jerking and shifting as I continued my relentless assault on her pleasure centre with practised strokes. I quickly thrust my middle finger inside and curled it several times before returning to the tiny thumbstrokes I knew could bring a woman to orgasm. She was very close to that now, and I quickened my pace, tilting my head to kiss the top of her ear and forehead. I had to hold her waist tightly with my other hand now as she writhed in my grip, moaning louder as she reached a climax. I switched to circular movements of my thumb, around and over the very tip of her clitoris, my hand covered in her juices, panting myself now with the effort of holding my friend still in the throes of orgasm. Finally her bucking subsided and I returned to gentle stroking, feeling Denise relax heavily against me once again. I withdrew my hand and slipped it around her waist underneath her shirt, enjoying the feel of her soft, warm skin. I let my head rest against the window frame, breathing softly into her hair, and closed my eyes. We didn't talk again, words just didn't seem to fit the situation, though I knew we would have to at some point. After a while, Denise freed herself from my embrace, kissed my cheek sleepily and left the room. She did not return, and, putting on my coat and gloves, I headed out into the night.