Last weekend I helped Grace buy a car from my brother’s garage; just a Focus, nothing amazing. I twisted his arm into offering her a good deal and service & MOT. I said she was a colleague but I think he’s worked out I’m fucking her and he’s probably realised it’s reasonably serious for me to be calling in favours like that. He also knows her full name and address so if he did any deeper searching he’d work out something wasn’t right.

Anyway, she can get herself around without relying on taxis, or me picking her up, which is good. I’ve persuaded Toby that there’s nothing sexy about a guy who can’t drive so he may as well hedge his bets and book his test.

Toby - or Tobias, if you prefer - is the cuck. It’s not really right to call him the cuck any more, but if you know a couple from Coventry called Grace and Toby, well, these aren’t the droids you’re looking for.

With the help of some carefully-selected profile pictures, Toby managed to get some matches on a dating app and one resulted in him successfully getting a meal. I scared him shitless with some advice and Grace helped him pick clothes. She’s been so strong and unflappable in their strange situation, and I can see her love - so to speak - for him in everything she does.

Having signed for the car, she was out on Saturday night with the girls and I didn't fancy a night with Toby waiting for her to get back watching snooker or whatever while he messaged his new crush, so left them be. I got drunk with the rugby lads instead.

You might ask why they’re still living together but this is the real world and things are never that simple. They’re two years into a six year fixed term tenancy and while Grace would be welcome to move in with me, Toby can’t afford to rent (or, rent there) on his own. Serving notice would be a huge ball ache and rightly, if they can avoid that they will.

In any case, Grace wants to stay with Toby rather than move miles away to Solihull, creating a commute for herself and leaving him alone when he’s most vulnerable. The romantic side of their relationship is over and they’re essentially friends house sharing, with him sleeping on the sofa until they get chance to turn the office back into a bedroom.

There’s no hurry with anything. I’m very conscious of feeling I’ve caused this problem (although they both assure me I’ve not), so I’ve assiduously avoided pushing things. A time will come when they’ll need to unpick everything but the key at the moment is continuity and stability and waiting and seeing.

Why am I rabbiting on about this? You’re not interested in our cohabitation arrangements.

It had been a bit of a dry patch sexually. We hadn’t had sex since last year and although we’d talked until late in the night and flirted, I’d tried to leave Grace to process the emotions she was going through without pestering her to fuck. I felt like I'd committed to her now so I'd not hooked up either, which left me with my right hand for company.

Grace had been asking how often I was in the office (rarely) and whether I could work from other places than home (yes, anywhere in the UK), and then she 'surprised' me by booking a last minute long weekend in a little lodge in Croyde in North Devon.

It meant she'd be away for Toby's date (the only thing she insisted on, aside from them not having sex in her bed if it got to that, which I understand) and she was also looking for places to drive to in her new whip, so a road trip was needed. The place has a hot tub and good wifi so her plan was to have Friday there but work during the day to avoid having to take it as annual leave.

Thursday

Grace picked me up on Thursday evening, the night of Toby's date. She let herself in (I love how she feels at home already), and assumed her spot on the sofa while I finished my last call. I hurried off Teams, folded my laptop into the bag and sidled up next to her to kiss her neck under her hair. Mmmmm, that smell, that little smile as she accepted the kiss, the way her body relaxed and sank and she seemed to let out a half-moan, half-sigh. She was all mine for 72 hours.

Like a kid at Christmas I couldn’t wait, and I started trying to get her hoodie off. There was no reason to rush, the key to the lodge was in a lock box we had the code to and we could arrive whenever. Grace and I play-wrestled and made out on the sofa. I let her win for a bit but eventually had her legs pinned open and her shoulders on the seat.

“Please,” she managed, between giggles, before grabbing my face between my cheeks. “I want the first to be special.”

I looked down at her beautiful face, my cock already raging in my pants. The “first” of what? Of this year? This weekend? Our new relationship dynamic? Yeah, OK, me too.

She squeezed my cheeks together, causing my lips to a pout, and slid her tongue into my mouth. I love kissing her but I now decided there was a reason to rush. I gave her a smack on the bum to get her going.

I dumped all my stuff in the boot of Grace’s new car, locked up the house and we set off down the M5. I played CarPlay DJ and my tune selection was excellent if I don’t say so myself; belters from our youth for us to sing along to. We stopped at a McDonalds in a service station and pigged out, then turned off at Tiverton for the long, dark drive to Barnstaple.

Toby would be sitting down with his date now, and I wondered what was going through Grace’s head. Outwardly, nothing abnormal.

We stopped at Tesco for supplies, and got to the place just before 9, and, after finding it, let ourselves in. The place was beautiful, a kind of shepherd’s hut with a balcony looking out over the hills, the hot tub down the path covered when we arrived. Grace unlocked the door and straight ahead was a kitchen, to our left a cosy living room, and right the bedroom and bathroom with a big shower. It had been freezing all week at home and I’d been worried we’d be shuddering in some draughty shed, but this wasn’t like that at all.

I put my hand round Grace’s waist, kissed her, and told her to go and get ready. She disappeared into the bedroom.

I had a frantic couple of minutes, bringing stuff in, throwing food into the fridge. Where was the cuck when you needed him? Lights and fire on, pouring drinks, and then into the room to meet my love.

She had her sexy underwear on we'd bought but I'd not seen her in, and fuck she looked beautiful. I’m not into lingerie; I don't dislike it, it's just that I’ve never found it make a woman more attractive. Maybe it was a few weeks of not seeing Grace naked, but seeing her like that I realised I needed her more than my next breath.

She bit her bottom lip and pointed at the wall to my left. Not wanting to take my eyes off her, I followed the line of her arm to a plaque in the corner. 'GET NAKED'. Yes ma’am.

I put the drinks on the side and stripped as she watched, eying my cock greedily, then climbed between her legs and lay her on her back.

I kissed every single inch of her, worshipping my woman, working my way in trails around her neck and chest, occasionally back to her mouth. On my first visit I didn’t use my tongue but on each trip back I’d probe a little deeper as she started to run her hands over my back and into my hair and lift her legs round my hips. Her breathing started to become deeper and faster and as I passed over the left side of her chest I could feel her heart pounding.

I nipped at the lace hem of her bra with my teeth and started to tug at it, then moved my hands round and underneath her as she arched her back to let me remove it. I pulled it away and up her arms with my teeth and flung it to the floor by snapping my head to one side like a dog with a toy, hitting myself in the eye with the strap. She giggled at my pain and I growled at her as I moved to her nipples. They were hard and I grazed them with my top teeth and lapped at them with my tongue.

I brought my hands back round and squeezed her boobs as I played with her nipples and then traced a trail of kisses in the direction of her moans up her chest, neck and chin and to her mouth. I gave her my tongue this time, straining the bottom of my mouth to push it into her as she did the same, and we danced them together, breathing through our noses.

As I kissed her I realised my own heart was pounding. I could hear my pulse in my ears and feel my cock throbbing to the same beat. I pushed my hips in so I was against her through her pants. They were absolutely soaking, and I could feel her moan into my mouth as I made contact with her clit through the thin material. I rolled my hips so I was grinding between her pussy lips, feeling how swollen she was, and her back arched again. She felt so good.

I broke the kiss and pulled her pants up her legs as she pointed her toes in front of me. I took her foot in my hand and licked up her sole, and she moaned again as her toes curled. I flopped my torso forward to land on my hands either side of Grace’s shoulders, then kissed down her body to her pussy.

I started at her clit, licking upwards and enjoying her moans, her hand on the back of my head, then moved down her lips and parted them with the bottom of my tongue, gently circling her hole. My nose was against her and I looked up her wonderful flat stomach, between her tits, at her beautiful face twisted with pleasure.

I couldn’t stand it any longer. I needed to make her mine. I licked back up her body to her mouth, let my cock slide down her lips to her tight hole and pushed into Grace for the first time as her…what? Lover? Boyfriend? I was clearly no longer her bull.

Grace winced briefly as she stretched and she bit her bottom lip. When she opened her eyes again seconds later she let out a gasp as her head tipped back and her hands grabbed at the sheet, but her eyes remained locked with mine. I kept pushing and she wrapped her arms around my neck, her legs round my waist, tilted her head right and kissed me as I reached the dimple of her cervix and my balls squished into her.

I wrapped my arms around her and we started to fuck in an embrace, nose to nose, forehead to forehead and looking into each others’ eyes so close I couldn’t focus. I started slowly, enjoying the delicious expressions on Grace’s face and her moans as I pushed in balls deep to stretch her, then pulled out until just my head was left in, then repeating. Each out stroke caused her pussy to grip harder and almost try to pull me back, but fail due to the lubrication it was secreting onto me.

I picked up the pace, rested my head on Grace’s shoulder and she turned to face me. I looked up into her eyes and tried to remember everything I could about this moment. The slight sheen of her skin, the smell of her hair, the tiny beauty spot on her top lip, itself swollen from my kisses, the hazy blue of her eyes. I ran my hand down her face and neck as I kissed her and her pussy seemed to grip me harder.

Considering the fact this was my first fuck since the girl I’d had what seemed like a wheelbarrow race with on my bed two weeks before, and the extreme attraction I felt to Grace, I’m amazed I lasted as long as her. As I sped up, I felt her starting to tighten more, and she was now so wet that each time my skin contacted hers it sounded like slapping the surface of a bowl of jelly with a spoon.

Grace came slightly before I did, her back seeming to bend into an ‘S’ shape briefly and her ribs pushing mine up before her hips bucked into me and she squirted on me. I needed a few more thrusts and followed her into the orgasm, pushing in as deep as I could. I enjoyed the release of pumping my cum into her and kissed her passionately as I counted each pump - three, four, five. I closed my eyes, squeezed my girl into me and, in a postcoital bliss, felt as if we were in heaven.

Our time together ran through my head, from our first time in the Premier Inn as virtual strangers, fucking for the benefit of Toby watching, to this moment. Just the two of us, making love.

Seeming to read my mind, Grace broke the kiss first and I opened my eyes to meet hers. “I love you Ed.”

My stomach fluttered and without hesitating I said “I love you too.” Her pussy tugged at me and seemed to coat me again, and I resumed the kiss. I don't think I've ever felt this way about anyone before.

Walk

I don’t know how long we laid there, but it was long enough that I went soft inside Grace. Our fluids had partly dried and we’d become stuck to each other as if we’d spilled PVA glue between our legs. I peeled myself out and off of her and grabbed the drinks, untouched on the nightstand, and we toasted the holiday.

Grace flopped back onto the pile of cushions leaving me sat resting on my hand. Her boobs seemed bigger than normal and I hoped it was just coming up to her time of the month and I’d not knocked her up. She caught me looking and laughed at me for checking her out. She pulled me down by my chain - she likes doing that - and I struggled to keep my glass upright.

"What now?"

Honestly, I just wanted to make love again, and then again and maybe once more just for good measure. I checked my phone: no messages from Toby but I wasn't expecting one; 10:30pm.

Grace wanted to go for a walk. I got my laptop connected to the wifi, then confirmed I could VPN into work. Better to know if there was a problem now and get help than wait till the morning. Grace did the same and we got dressed for a sticky, unshowered walk. Grace locked the door behind us and her soft hand ran down the inside of my arm and into my fingers.

We walked quite a way, through the village and right at the crossroads, up the hill and round the corner to the Ruda park, then cut through onto the beach. It was a cold, moonless night and although we could hear the sea, we couldn’t really see much except a thin white line of the breaking waves way out; the tide was out. Grace tugged at my hand and led me along the dunes. We stopped and sat on a lip formed by erosion at the bank of a small stream and I lit a couple of rollups.

"Have you heard from Tobes?" she asked.

I was used to this. Grace wouldn't talk about things she hadn't yet processed, but once she had, there was nothing she'd avoid. Another me might have wanted to avoid the subject of Toby, her what, ex-boyfriend? Best friend? But it was pointless, neither of us like having elephants in rooms and if he came up we'd talk it out.

I checked my phone. Nothing. But that didn't mean anything either way. Grace said she hoped it had gone well and I put my arm around her. She rested her head on my shoulder and blew a plume of smoke into the night air.

Grace grinned, stood up, stepped over my far leg and sat back down in my lap, then rubbed herself on me through my jeans. I was still sticky from earlier but it was still pleasant to have her on me like that and I was quickly hard. Grace could feel it and kissed my neck.

"Horny again?"

"Always."

In considered fucking her there on the beach but it was too cold. My ass was quickly wet and cold to add to the sex fluid discomfort, so we walked lightheadedly the rest of the way south along the beach. Grace went first over the craggy rocks and round the corner, then up some steps onto the cliffs, then we followed the main road we'd come in on back into the village, past the now-closed pub, and right at the crossroads back to the lodge.

It was late so we had a romantic shower together, then sat and watched TV for a bit in front of the (artificial) fire, sharing sweets I’d thrown into the trolley as Grace had pushed it round the supermarket. Grace rested her feet in my lap and I massaged them for a while, then we went to bed.

I wrapped my arms around Grace, pulled her in as my little spoon and kissed the back of her neck and her shoulders. Her naked body - no pyjamas here - seemed to melt into mine and we fell asleep together.

Work from home

My alarm woke us up at 8am. We'd parted slightly in the night and she rolled into me, rubbed her eyes and smiled as she kissed me and thanked me for waking her up 45 minutes early - I should have cancelled that alarm. She asked me if I had to start or if we had time to play.

I grabbed my work phone from the nightstand and checked my calendar. My first meeting wasn't until 9:30; nothing I needed to prepare for. I had time.

We sank under the covers into a little sex cocoon. Grace threw her leg over me to straddle me and, after a few minutes of kissing she slid herself down my cock slowly until I felt her reach my balls.

She started with a rotation motion with her hips so it felt like I was stirring her, occasionally moving up and rolling them so her clit rubbed on my stomach and belly button. I moved my hands round to her bum as I had the last time we'd been like this under the blankets on her sofa a couple of weeks ago, then started to help her ride my cock.

Our hands and mouths and tongues danced together and Grace edged us until at last, I had to cum. I meshed my hands in hers and looked into her eyes as she rode me to orgasm. She felt it and slowed down but I’d not seen her cum so I told her to keep going. She did, my hips bucking in my refractory period and her eventually tightening and wettening and kissing me as she joined me. It was slightly painful but I’ve never not made Grace cum and I wasn’t going to start now.

“I’ll make breakfast,” she said, me still lying in a pit of pleasure and pain. She threw the covers off and stood up, the motion causing my cock to fall out of her and land on my stomach. She jumped into her trackies and my t-shirt from last night and disappeared.

With the door open, fuck, it was cold, particularly after the relative warmth of the bed. Grace’s pussy had been warmer still and my cock, wet with our juices and exposed to the harsh world, felt even colder. I was worried I might get a frostbitten todger…

I had a wash, got dressed into my working from home gear: smart shirt and comfy trackies; then knocked the towel radiator on and went into the kitchen. Grace had made herself a coffee (I don’t really do hot drinks) and some porridge for both of us. The fire was on and the small place heated up quite quickly. I kissed her to thank her for breakfast, then sat down on the sofa and ate it as I scrolled through my emails.

I was just starting my first call when Grace came back from her shower, like me dressed for work, smart beige crew neck jumper and old trackies. She set her laptop up at the breakfast bar and just as my call ended, hers started.

Grace is a team leader at her company. She has four or five reports and it quickly became clear this was a morning huddle where everyone was going through their priorities for the day. I stopped and listened to her and I was astounded. Grace was confident, good humoured, focused. She spoke eloquently, describing our break so far, sanitising the sloppy sex out of it and not mentioning it wasn’t with Toby, but then moved to work mode.

She didn’t so much organise her team as facilitate them organising themselves, nudging them in the direction of doing what she needed them to do. She offered her help, then she talked through her own diary so they knew when she’d be available.

I found it incredibly sexy, seeing that side of her. Grace was one thing to me, another thing to her family and friends, another thing to her colleagues; but aren’t we all the same? I felt like I’d got another layer deeper into her.

Mid-morning we were both free and she laughed at me, she’d noticed me pretending to be interested in a management reorganisation in my last meeting but, as I’ve said before, I won’t be there long; I’m just milking them for their training budget. I care about their organisational structure like a lion cares about the organisational structure of a herd of sheep.

Grace asked if I had time for lunch, which I did. My call immediately before it was with a Talker, and as the timer ticked past the end of our time together Grace slid off her seat and dropped to her knees behind the laptop screen.

She started running kisses up the inside of my legs and then pulled at my waistband to drop my trackies. I lifted the laptop slightly and pushed myself off the sofa, then felt her fingers pull everything, boxers included, down.

This idiot would not shut up. Grace flicked her tongue against my frenulum and into my hole, then swirled it round and round under my foreskin, but the laptop blocked her from sucking any lower. Each lap at my sensitive areas caused me to squirm but my colleague was too wrapped up to notice (I hope).

I thought about faking a disconnection but eventually, having used all the words he knew, Mr Talkative said his goodbyes, I mashed the red “Leave” button with my finger, slammed the laptop shut and threw it onto the sofa.

Grace sucked greedily and I encouraged her. I told her how hot she was, how I loved Professional Grace, then got kinky. Be my manager, baby. Do my 1-to-1. Get the whips. Chair my disciplinary meeting you fucking beautiful slut.

She laughed with my cock in her mouth and ended up gagging. As she fell backwards onto the floor I followed her. I needed her pussy and yanked her trackies down round her ankles, butterflied her legs and set to work with my tongue, a few minutes later following it with my fingers. I placed my left hand on her chest to pin her to the floor as she squirmed, and looked into my woman’s eyes as I brought her to orgasm, laying on the rug like my little sex toy. She soaked my two hooked fingers and the palm of my hand, then I lapped up every drop of the sweet juice she produced.

I pushed myself upright and licked my fingers. “Thanks for lunch.” Her breathing was still fast but she pushed me backwards and finished me too with her mouth and right hand, gulping down my load as I sat with my back against the sofa. We cuddled for a few minutes, then stood up and pulled up our trackies, our morning of mutually accumulated sexual desire sated.

I went outside to turn the hot tub on, but it was already on low, I guess to stop it from freezing. I pushed the temperature up to 105 Fahrenheit, as high as it went. Fahrenheit means nothing to me.

The afternoon at work was uneventful and I had a chance to look for places we could eat. The Thatch, the main pub in the village, seemed OK, or there was the Manor House just round the corner, both of which we’d walked past last night. There were places in Braunton or round the coast in Woolacombe but they’d require either driving (which meant one of us not drinking, which was not going to happen), or getting a taxi which round there are as rare as rocking horse shit.

Local then. I picked the Thatch because it had a marginally higher rating.

I logged off and there was Grace, naked as the day she was born but, perhaps unlike the day of her birth, holding two glasses and a bottle of prosecco. She beckoned me after her and I undressed in seconds, then raced outside after her into the cold, down the path, my cock twitching at the sight of her. She got to the hot tub, uncovered it, lifted one leg like a ballerina, tested the water with her toe and then slid in.

I clambered much less balletically in after and realised I'd set it too hot. You could have boiled a lobster.

The hot tub also wasn't like the old one, which had been a ring shape with bench seats round the outside and a well in the middle. This was two loungers with jets in the bottom and a space between them. I turned the bubbles on and Grace filled up our glasses and, I guess in an attempt to appear civilised, we spent 15 minutes or so chatting and occasionally lapsing into silence enjoying the bubbles.

Grace tipped the last of her prosecco down and rolled through the water on top of me. She brushed against my erection and laughed. "Have you just been lying there thinking about fucking me?"

I ran my hands down her stomach and between her legs. Her pussy was swollen. "Same question to you."

She giggled and kissed me, then, obviously worried we might be watched by a voyeuristic goat, turned off the underwater lights over my shoulder and lowered herself down onto me.

This hot tub hadn't been designed with fucking in mind (not a point we'll necessarily make in the TripAdvisor review). Grace had nowhere to put her legs, making it awkward. Not a problem early on as we were getting into it, but if either of us were ever going to finish we'd need to adjust.

I eventually moved to lie between the two beds where the water was slightly shallower, which meant Grace could place her feet in the deep lumbar sections of the two loungers and squat onto me.

This was much better. I got to look into Grace’s mesmerising face while she rode me, her pussy gripping me tight in the hot water. I wrapped my arms around her torso and squeezed her into me so her boobs rode up under my chin, then thrusted upwards in time with her, making the choppy water lap at the sides rhythmically. I love fucking Grace anywhere but particularly underwater; her skin feels like velvet.

Eventually we rolled over in place so Grace was on the bottom and me between her legs. I knelt in the bottoms of the seats with my torso out in the cold air. Grace played with my nipples, which I found surprisingly enjoyable, her hair splayed out in the water around her head. I picked up the pace. Her hips bucked upwards as she came first, but I kept going and her second orgasm we shared.

As we came together I leant down and chomped at her face greedily, biting her tongue and her bottom lip. I thrusted hard and deep into her a few more times and felt her gasp against me as she wrapped her arms around my neck and her pussy gripped me, almost seeming to want to extract every drop of my cum.

Evening

We lay there and kissed for a while. I wondered if I’d go soft inside her but I didn’t and eventually I found myself rolling my hips again.

“Easy tiger,” Grace laughed, and pushed me back with her feet.

I was disappointed but I smiled. She was right. I pulled out of her and she announced she was going to get ready. I had no way of knowing what time it was - I’d finished work just after 5 and that must have been an hour ago. Grace getting ready isn't too long a process but it's a lot longer than mine.

I watched her get out and admired her as she walked back up the path and the steps. Narrow waist, catwalk hip swing, sexy thigh gap. I lay back in the bubbles and smiled at the thought of her being mine. I wondered if she always would be, whether we’d have kids one day. Would they ask how we’d met? Would we give vague answers about dating sites? Would we mention uncle Toby?

I’d not heard from him. I turned the hot tub off and re-covered it, then jogged back up to the hut in the chilly night air. I found my phone by my laptop and sent him a message.

Hello mate

Everything OK?

Grace left the bathroom, her hair in a towel, so we swapped. I shaved quickly and showered, then got dressed. Grace waved me away as I tried to interfere - nothing sexier than a woman getting ready - then went back into the lounge.

Toby hadn’t read my message. Feet on the coffee table, I took the opportunity to make some notes of the last couple of days. I’d taken to doing this as it makes writing these stories easier - just a stream of consciousness on a Google Doc to remind me of the rough order of things which I then fill in the blanks later on (or as often as not wonder what the hell I was on about and then go from memory).

Grace appeared in a sexy black dress, not too low cut but still leaving some cleavage on show. Her makeup was subtle, some eyeshadow and mascara. She looked perfect, and I told her so. We put coats on and borrowed the umbrella from the lodge as it had just started to rain, a fine mist.

The Thatch is just my sort of place. Low ceilings, warm, just dark enough, wingback chairs and creaky stools. I get the impression, in the summer, it’s a bit of a tourist trap. But this far out of season it was just the locals. Grace found us a table and I got us two Korevs for hydration after the hot tub, and bar snacks to make sure we got dehydrated again.

We chatted about all sorts; family, work, holidays, sports, our aspirations, films we’d watched, favourite albums. Our lives couldn’t have been more different; Grace is an only child whereas I’m the second youngest (by 13 minutes) of seven including two older half sisters from my dad’s first marriage. My oldest brother and dad are no longer with us and I told Grace their stories and showed her their photos.

It felt strange to be having these conversations now, like we’ve done things in the wrong order. Normally you’d get to know each other and then tell someone you’re in love with them, whereas we’d done things the other way round, maybe wrongly.

We had three beers together and then Grace moved onto the wine. I went to the bar and ordered food - a baked camembert to share as a starter and then a rack of ribs for me (which we also shared) and a lamb shank for Grace (which we didn’t).

Fair enough. I didn’t say anything but I’d noticed when we’d been naked that Grace seemed to have lost weight. I wondered whether the situation at home had caused her not to eat and felt a pang of guilt.

By the time we’d finished, most of the locals had gone. The waitress came over and asked if we’d enjoyed our food, and as she cleared the plates she said they didn’t get many tourists in at this time of the year. She asked if we’d come down for winter surfing.

No, we had not, but I caught Grace’s eye. That germ of an adventure to be had. Oh, shit. I’ve been in the sea in January before in Italy and it was freezing there. But Grace had already shown an interest and the plates were put back down, the waitress was enthusing about the surf conditions and talking about where to hire winter wetsuits, and Grace, my beautiful woman, was nodding along animatedly.

Phones came out and recommendations were made. Bodyboarding was best for beginners. The RNLI weren’t guarding out of season but there were normally enough people in, we’d be best hiring bodyboards and wetsuits from a guy, the waitress gave Grace his Instagram.

“What do you think, Ed?”

What I wanted to say was ‘absolutely fucking not’, but they both looked at me. Grace’s sense of adventure. That smile on her face and the look of wild excitement in her eyes. How could I say no?

“OK”, I said. Grace grinned and we thanked the waitress, who said she’d bring us another round of drinks. Grace started talking excitedly and making plans for the following day.

I nodded along. I love seeing her like this. I went to the toilet and checked my phone, which had been untouched in my pocket since we’d first sat down. No reply from Toby, he’d not even read the message yet. Maybe he was shagging? I wondered what I’d do if he had and in a way I didn’t want him to, because I’d have to discuss it with Grace and that would change the dynamic.

When I went back, Grace was dropping her phone back in her purse. I took a leaf out of her book and just asked the obvious question, rather than avoiding it. She hadn’t heard anything either. I put my hand on hers and comforted her.

We drank up and said goodnight, then walked back up to the lodge. I lit us rollups on the way and we stopped and smoked a couple more in the shade from the streetlamp cast by the post office. I felt like a naughty teenager as we smoked and I ended up pushing Grace up against the wall and snogging her on what I subsequently noticed was somebody’s house, pushing my erection into her. We finished up half jogging through the village back to the lodge.

The lodge

I found myself quickly in the shower with Grace, pouring almond oil down her back as she bent over and let me rub it into her bum cheeks. It left them glistening in the warm water and I rubbed the head of my cock between them and into her hole, so tempted to push in. Grace sensed my thought and warned me off, and I whispered into her ear that I’d be back for it after bodyboarding. She moaned her agreement; a nice quid pro quo.

I moved myself down and rubbed her lips between her legs, starting closest to me near her hole, and then moving achingly slowly further away towards her clit. I used my hands to open her cheeks and admired her for a second, then moved down her curvy hips to the outside of her thighs and pushed her knees inwards so they crossed, right in front and left at the back.

My cock was left between her legs in her tightened thigh gap and I started to swing my hips backwards and forwards, my tip sliding along and between her lips and tickling her clit. She moaned my name.

“You like this baby?”

“Fuck yes.”

I liked it too. Each thrust forward caused the two sides of my groin to nudge Grace’s firm bum cheeks, which wobbled slightly at the contact. I started just allowing my skin to kiss them but every few thrusts I’d take a long draw back and then plunge forwards, causing Grace to yelp and coat me.

As I did this, I ran my hands back up the outside of her thighs and round her front, up her (full) stomach and over her boobs, pulling her upright as I did so. She turned her neck and kissed me.

“You ready?”

“Yes,” she gasped, as if the single syllable was all she could manage. I allowed my left hand to slide back down her front to her pussy, and pushed my four fingers towards me to create a stopper, forcing my cock up and into her, rather than along. It slid straight in and I was back in my favourite place. Her tongue parted my lips and we kissed as she got comfortable, then I tipped her hips forward to give me a flatter angle and parted her legs wide again, her feet braced against both walls either side of the shower tray.

I started easy but ended up fucking quite hard, enjoying her moans, lightly spanking her occasionally and enjoying her squeezing in response. Her hands were flat against the tiles of the shower wall and I could feel, but not see clearly, her tits bouncing around. An idea came to me.

I reached behind us and opened the shower curtain, then spun us round on the spot so I was with my back to the wall, the pair of us looking out into the bathroom and the vanity mirror. We now both had a great view, and each thrust now produced a bounce of Grace’s full breasts, her face a vision of perfection contorted with pleasure.

Even in the warm water, I could feel Grace start to wetten and tighten around me, and her eyes met mine in the mirror as my hand went back between her legs. I rubbed her to push her over the edge into a weak-kneed orgasm, then caught her hips and pulled her all the way onto me to keep her upright. I love feeling Grace cum.

When she regained control of her legs I pulled out, pushed her harshly against the wall, now facing me, and lifted her left leg, hooking her knee in the crook of my right elbow, then pushed back into her exposed pussy. She sucked my tongue but as I started to pound her I needed every airway for breath.

Within minutes she was ready again and we came together, forehead to forehead, and I kissed her. Big, deep, passionate, breathless kisses as if trying to devour each other while the shower water ran down us. It seemed like every orgasm was competing to outdo the last, like each time I thought I couldn’t be any more attracted to her, it turned out I could. Now I sit here writing this, that’d have been the ideal sentiment to express but at the time, through an orgasmic haze, I just about managed a breathless “I love you so much”.

Grace ran her finger down my cheek, grinning, and simply responded “me too”.

We dried ourselves and got into bed, and within minutes I think we were both asleep, cuddled in our normal arrangement. All the fucking had really taken it out of me.

Saturday

Grace woke me up, and I jokingly thanked her for waking me up so early on a weekend. No sexy business this morning; Grace was on a mission.

Up and dressed, in the car. As we drove we finally got to see the sea, and Grace called the surf hire guy, who said he’d meet us at the car park on the hill with two bodyboards and winter wetsuits in our sizes. Grace talked as she drove us around the headland and I realised how big of a cliff it was, willing her to focus on the driving, into Braunton.

The dashboard said it was 1°C. I wondered for about a femtosecond whether anal was really worth it and decided that yes it very much was.

We had breakfast in a café on the high street. I briefly worried Grace would go for some avocado-based nonsense and we’d never be able to speak again, but she copied my order of a full English and orange juice.

Grace’s excitement was infectious, and after being persuaded that, in a big thick wetsuit, it wouldn’t be that cold, I secretly found I was looking forward to it. We had a little wander around the village, and then drove back round to Croyde to meet my fate.

He was a nice guy actually, and didn’t seem at all fazed that we were going in on such a freezing cold day. I was hoping he'd say this was crazy but he just gave us the thickest wetsuits he had (6mm apparently). Grace and I stripped down to our underwear round the back of her car and helped zip each other into them. They were snug and fleece lined, and Grace looked particularly good in hers. I tried not to focus on that lest I embarrass myself with nowhere to hide in mine.

I put the boots and hood on and Grace said it looked like I was wearing a gimp suit. I told her I’d fuck her bum really hard later and she squirmed with pleasure.

The bodyboards were on leashes that you velcro to your wrist, and after I paid he wished us good luck and we set off down the steps cut into the cliff.

It turned out we’d gone at low tide and, by the time we got to the shore, we were fairly warm in the sunshine, although the sea itself was still very cold. The waves weren't huge but we managed to catch a few good ones. Apparently the trick is to look for waves that are about to break, get as far forward on the board as possible, push with your legs and then kick to stay on the wave.

It took a few attempts but I got there. Grace is so light that we’d be together one second and the next I’d turn round and she was 50 yards away, having caught one. I got a few too and, despite my feet and hands going numb, I enjoyed it. The rush of speed as you take off when you catch a good one is fun.

When you're on a wave you can steer by shifting from side to side on the board, and I’d keep coming back to Grace, who was making sure we didn’t drift along the beach. We ended up standing next to each other, boards under our arms, and I put my arm round her waist and gave her a big salty kiss. The cold had made our noses run. I was glad we’d done this.

Oh, also, a Chinook flew over. I’d never seen one in real life before and fuck me was it loud. It was flying so low it was whipping up spray off the sea. It was worth going bodyboarding just for that.

Eventually even Grace admitted it was too cold, with her white face and blue lips and chattering teeth. We plodded back up the steps and dropped the gear back, then drove back to the lodge in our towels. The hot tub was at its lowest setting but we jumped straight in and it felt so warm. The pins and needles cleared, the shivering stopped and the colour came back into Grace’s cheeks.

We weren’t there long as Grace wanted to go to Ilfracombe. We drove there via Woolacombe where we had some chips, then up a very steep hill into Mortehoe, and down the hill again into Ilfracombe.

We parked near what looked like two cooling towers, took some photos of the beach, wandered up the high street (not a place we’ll be rushing back to) and then I persuaded Grace into the penny arcade. I won her a Sonic the Hedgehog on the claw machine. Just what she wanted.

After a walk round the harbour I felt like we’d earned a drink somewhere warm so we went into one of the bars. Ilfracombe was nice, and I mused that the front, in the summer, would almost seem like being in Italy. That got us onto my grandparents and Italian cooking and I came up with the idea of cooking for dinner, rather than going out.

Croyde’s nice but the lack of taxis and buses after 7pm means your options for eating out are one of the two pubs, walking quite a long way to Georgeham where there are also two pubs, or not drinking. The lodge had a well-equipped kitchen that, so far, had been stretched as far as making a saucepan of porridge. We’d gone past a Lidl on the way into Ilfracombe, so I suggested getting stuff there and then “facciamo la ricetta della pasta di mia nonna” (Grace loves it when I talk Italian).

Pasta di mia nonna

I say it’s my nonna’s recipe, it’s probably pretty common. Puree (or finely chop, as I didn’t have a blender) a few carrots and onions, a couple of sticks of celery and three or four cloves of garlic, sweat it in plenty of olive oil and beef stock and then add two thirds beef and one third pork mince. Once that’s browned, add a can of chopped tomatoes then some paprika, salt, more garlic and half a glass of red wine. Leave on a low heat for 90 minutes partly covered to let it reduce.

90 minutes was more than enough time to collect my reward. Grace had been chatting away watching me cook and I ordered her over to the sofa. She must find cooking a turn on because when I turned back she was behind me, pushing me down onto the seat, dropping my trackies, then my balls were in her mouth. She rubbed the head of my cock between her thumb and index finger and made me squirm. Her remaining three fingers and palm massaged my shaft. All I could think was: where had Grace been all my life?

Eventually she moved her lips up and sucked me, kneeling on the rug with her beautiful face between my legs. Fire on, in the warm with my favourite person giving me slow, deep sucks and looking up at me with her big pretty eyes, I felt like I was in heaven.

Eventually she took her hoodie off and slipped my cock between her full tits, under the bridge of her bra, and squeezed them together, my head under her chin and started to wank me. Grace looked down and stuck out her tongue, which she used to mop up drops of precum. I managed a few minutes of this before I realised I was aching.

“Give me that ass baby,” I instructed.

She stood and turned, dropping her trackies as she did so, then bent forwards and gave me a lap dance, teasing me with her bum, brushing it against my cock and eventually squishing it into my stomach between her bum cheeks with her hole, her pants the only thing between me and my prize. She switched to a backwards and forwards motion up and down the bottom of my cock, pushing all her weight into me, and each time she reached the top she squeezed out yet more drops of precum. Fuck.

“Give it to me,” I instructed, again, more forcefully.

She stood up, “get undressed”.

She went into the bedroom while I removed my t-shirt and kicked my trackies and boxers away, and she returned naked, with our special lube.

She methodically lubed me up. It was cold and tingly, just like before, and I loved how generously she applied it. She stood up on the sofa and put some in herself and I shifted forward in the seat as she squatted down in front of me. It took Grace a couple of attempts to push in, and I helped by rubbing my hands down her back and kissing her chest to relax her.

After a few seconds her hole gave way and she lowered herself down, until her bum cheeks were in my lap again and her wet pussy was against my pubic bone.

I looked up at Grace and admired her, at her legs either side of me, then up to her hips, the line of her waist tapering inwards and then up to her ribs, her big tits squeezed together by her arms stretched outwards to her hands on my chest, up her long neck to her face. I’d not seen her face when we’d had anal before and she looked uncomfortable.

“Are you OK baby?”

She nodded and moved forward to kiss and I wrapped my arms around her and started to swing my hips, super slow at first as she loosened and progressively faster.

I’m always worried with anal that the girl doesn’t get as much pleasure out of it, but if Grace didn’t she acted well, particularly when I lifted my hips up with my feet and created a different angle, she screamed. As I got faster I started to knead her bum cheeks and pull them apart so that, every now and then, I had room to push balls deep into her and feel her insides with the tip, then spank her and feel her ass clench around me.

Her pussy started to drip like a leaking tap as we worked together. I picked Grace up and lay her on the seat next to me, kneeling behind the seat cushions with my left leg, and with my right foot on the floor. I grabbed Grace’s feet with my hands and massaged them with my thumbs as I thrusted into her.

I wrapped her legs around my waist and moved my right hand to her pussy. With my wrist towards her I started to strum her in time with my fucking and instantly my fingers were soaking.

“Take over,” I ordered, and moved my hands up her front round to her neck. Gimp suit. I fucked her as hard as I could, slapping my skin on hers and my sticky balls on her spread cheeks while gently squeezing her throat. I created a gob of spit in my mouth and she opened hers to let me dribble into it, then I kissed her and swirled our tongues around in her mouth. When I broke the kiss a trail of spit formed between us, connecting us momentarily before breaking under the tension.

She held my forearm and said she was close. I was closer than I’d realised. I told her and Grace said “not inside”.

No sooner had I pulled out than I exploded on her stomach, coating her belly button. I pushed back into her and then rubbed as hard as I could on her pussy and she gripped my arm so tight her nails left marks. She bucked her hips and came too, squirting on my hand. We spent a few minutes making out on the sofa and showing each other, as if either of us needed reminding, how we felt about one another, slowly rolling my hips enjoying her sticky, tight hole.

I gave the sauce a stir and, after admiring my work coating her in my cum, rejoined Grace on the sofa. I lay back and almost out of sympathy my lubed, creamy cock flopped onto my stomach as it always does, in my matching sticky patch transferred when we'd been kissing.

I’d have happily made love with Grace all night but we’d just end up sore again, so instead we went for a shower where I mostly left her alone, then came and looked for something to watch. There was nothing on terrestrial but I managed to hook my laptop up to the TV with the HDMI, so we could browse through Netflix.

While Grace was drying her hair the rosemary focaccia (shop bought, sorry) went in the oven, then I made some penne pasta, grated some Parmesan and chopped some basil into the sauce. I cooked the pasta in the sauce along with a spoonful of salt water for about the last two minutes and served both together.

Grace lit candles on the breakfast bar and poured two glasses of wine. I placed the bowl in front of her, and, as if waiting tables again, announced “La preghiamo di gustare la pasta che ho fatto come mi ha insegnato mia nonna 20 anni fa” (Please enjoy pasta made how my nonna taught me 20 years ago). I could have said anything but every time I say anything she grins.

We sat and chatted while we ate. I did find it funny that she was sat on the same bum that I’d been fucking half an hour before, and now she was back, all poised and sexy. Fuck the food, I wanted to destroy her again, rip her little top off and impale her on my cock.

“Has he replied?” She was looking at me.

What? Oh fuck, yeah Toby. I checked my phone, he’d read but not replied. That was unusual of him. We talked about whether he was OK and I suggested we call him and immediately regretted it. Why would I want to spoil a romantic meal? Grace shot down the suggestion; if there was a problem he’d have said. She’d see him tomorrow anyway - unfortunately.

I didn’t want her to go back to him, I just wanted to do this forever.

“Are you going to be OK going back home?”

She pushed a piece of pasta around the bowl. She said she’d be fine. I wanted to hear her say she would rather stay with me, but I knew that already and there was no need to put her on the spot like that and make her feel bad just for my own gratification.

I put my hand on hers. “Just call me if it gets too much…I’ll always come.”

“I know.” She turned her hand over and tickled my palm with her nails. “I love you.”

Netflix & Chill

We watched something called Bank of Dave, which I recommend. It’s about a guy in Burnley who sets up a bank and we had a good laugh, surrounded by popcorn and wine gums and actual wine. I put my arm around Grace and she rested her head on my shoulder as the film went on.

She’s perfect, and her weekend away had been perfect. The champagne popped and the credits rolled and, like Dave, I couldn’t help but feel good too. Grace and Toby would work their shit out, I’d be there to help, and then Grace and I would build our lives together, meet our families, be friends with Toby and whoever he found.

I pushed Grace drunkenly into the bedroom and made clumsy love to her, our hands all over each other. I told her what a perfect weekend I’d had and hoped we’d have all our weekends together. Her kisses and her body said she agreed and we came together in each other’s arms.

I woke up a while later and, having sobered up slightly, went around the lodge turning things off, then slid gently back into bed and pulled the covers over us. She was facing me, asleep, and I rested my head on the back of my forearm against the pillow.

As I lay there, watching her breathing softly and her eyelids flutter occasionally - she must have been dreaming - all my stupid thoughts went through my head, about trying to keep a distance, denying how I felt. I’d been a bull before and not felt a flicker of feeling for any of them, but I’d known from the start that Grace was special, right from when I first laid eyes on her through the peephole in the hotel door. I tucked a loose strand of blonde hair over her ear and kissed her forehead.

Sunday

I’m conscious this story is getting long. We got up, washed the stuff from the night before, then had a tidy round the place, made sure we had everything in the car, popped the key back in the lock box, and headed off. We had breakfast at the Thatch (another massive full English), then washed it down with an ice cream and a walk on Saunton beach round the corner. If we ever go back I’ll bring the dogs, they’d love it there.

I didn’t love any of it; I was going through the motions. I knew this had to end and it felt like we were on borrowed time, delaying the inevitable moment where she’d go back to her house that wasn’t a home and I’d be on my own again.

After a bit of shopping in Barnstaple we got back on the road. Grace called Toby - he was fine - and she let him know her ETA. He asked if we’d had a nice time and they chatted for a couple of minutes but his voice sounded forced, as if he was saying only things he was comfortable with me hearing. Grace and I gave each other knowing smiles.

Despite my best efforts to stay awake I drifted off and, when I woke up, Grace was just pulling off the motorway. She dropped me back and, standing in my hall, I had to fight to ignore every atom of me screaming at me not to let her leave.

She sensed it and pasted a brave face on. I mumbled some platitude about it having been a perfect weekend and she kissed me. My hands naturally fell into the small of her back and I held her there for a beat too long. “I have to go.”

“I know…” I said, too fast, but I completely accepted it needed to be this way. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I watched from the front window as she reversed off my drive. She rubbed her eye (an itch or a tear?), gave me a quick wave, and then drove to where neither of us wanted her to be.