Suck, Blow, Bang!

"Hey Babelicious!" shouted Stanley from the kitchen as I walked through the door.
"There's a letter for you".

I throw my keys onto the top of the side cabinet, kick off my high heels, fling off my coat and drop my handbag as I make myself to our big comfy sofa leaving a trail of accessories along the hallway.

"Dinner is in an hour, it's chicken casserole. I chucked in some of that red wine in it, you bought the other day". He licks off some of the sauce from the wooden spoon and continues stirring.

This was the norm on a monday evening for the occupants of flat 809, Kensington Road.

Stanley always cooked on a monday evening. Cooking for me was on the same par as toilet cleaning. You can get through life without ever having to do it yourself. Most of the time there was someone else around to do it.

Besides I did not have the time to cook and boiling an egg was as far as my cooking knowledge stretched to. I did at one time think of having cooking lessons but life is too short!

So I was delighted to have a flatmate who loved cooking and it was top class cooking. Stanley had the ability to rustle up mouth-watering concoctions with the minimum of effort.

"It smells nice! God! I'm starving"!

I pick up the small envelope that Stanley had left for me on the coffee table before flopping onto the sofa in one big heap.

It was addressed to me and it certainly did not look like a bill. Whoever wrote it had very neat hand writing.

Friends always wrote via email and anything else that managed to get pass the rottweiler from flat 810 were always bills. So I was a trifle intrigued at who it was from. And it appeared so did Stanley.

"Who is it from?" Stanley has now entered the living room and taking off his apron he enthusiastically sits next to me and starts to massage my feet.

I unfolded the lightly coloured "maison blanc" paper that was smooth as the envelope that it was in. Basildon Bond. How nice I thought.

"Dear Sandra,

I hope you do not mind me taking the liberty to obtain your address from Emma as I did not get the opportunity to ask you in person.

I trust you had a good train journey back to London. Hope your feet have recovered from the walk you did on Saturday?

It was great to meet you and I only wish we had more time to get acquainted better.

I will be leaving for my Kilimanjaro trip in a weeks' time and on my return I will be away for a further two weeks flying out to Zurich on a business trip. I am back on the 28th July. Perhaps we can meet up for a drink after I land at Heathrow.

Failing that I am in London on the 3rd August for a week at a Conference.
Do you like Japanese food? I know of a great Japanese restaurant in Chinatown.

My mobile number is 07856 001290

I look forward to seeing you when I get back in the country.

Yours
Michael"


"Who's Michael?" Stanley grins and starts sucking my big toe. He knows how much I love having my big toe sucked! I squeal with pleasure and hit him with a cushion.

Slightly distracted from the pleasure it takes me a few seconds to remember.

Emma. Of course!
Emma was my bosom girlfriend who I had visited and stayed with three weekends ago.
And Michael was the gentleman I met at her dinner party.

I remember now.
"He's a chap I met at Emma's party, he's very nice"
Stanley sucks harder which sets me off into fits of giggles.

Yes how can I possibly forget Michael. He had the charm and sophistication of a Mr Darcy, the witty humour of Hannibal King ( Ryan Reynolds) from Blade Trinity, and the looks and body of
Christine Bale and Josh Holloway put together!

I remember nearly choking on my Pina Colada when he came over to introduce himself to me and shook my hand. I had felt so aroused with his body so close to mine and when he planted a kiss on my hand before apologetically departing early from the party I had wanted to engage in bedsports with him there and then!

Stanley was getting well into the toe sucking now and he started to move his hands towards my panty at that point the phone begins to ring.
We both groan. Stanley presses the handsfree on the phone.

"Hello, the Huxtable resident"
The CosbyShow TV series was one of Stanley's old time favourites and occasionally he would act the idiot.

"Is Sandra there?" The deep voice belonged to Boris.

I gesture a no with my hands.

"No sorry she's not back home yet. Can I take a message?"
"No that's fine. I'll ring back a bit later".

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

I did not fancy another night with Boris. Three nights in a row was getting a bit too intense for me. And my bosoms were still sore from his excessive fondling last night.

Stanley seemed determined to get my panty off. We wrestle on the floor for a while. Giggling and laughing like little children. I could see that he was starting to get aroused.

He yanks my panty off from under my skirt. I yank off his trousers and pants in return and start sucking at him.
Before Stanley could reach his climax there comes a big bang from the kitchen.

"SHIT!"

We both leap up, Stanley nearly falling over his own trousers and darted into the kitchen.

We both stand with our mouth open.

The bang had come from the oven. There was black smoke coming off it.
Inside, the casserole dish had broken and the chicken and its juices started to overflow onto the floor.

"Holy SHIT!" I exclaim

"Holy FUCK!" adds Stanley

There was Stanley standing half naked and me with my half hanging bra and tousled hair and smudged lips. We both burst out laughing at the same time.

At that precise moment the door bells rings!



Copyright@ 2009 Sandra Fox