The Ghost of Timor – Part 6

And I can always tell when she gets sas-ified
Because when she gets sas-fied she start calling my name
She’d say: ‘Clarence Carter, Clarence Carter, Clarence Carter”

Clarence Carter

Both martini glasses lay on the floor. Their contents either consumed or soaking into the carpet. Alison and Jeremy had only smiled when the glasses fell without breaking. They were too busy right now to worry about extra work housekeeping may have to undertake once they had left the hotel.

Alison was straddling Jeremy in the armchair, rising and falling in time with his thrusts. She did her best to bend down to kiss him from time to time, but she didn’t really want to interrupt the feeling of his lips, tongue and stubble on her breasts. That felt really fucking good. She supposed that he could still rake his nails down her back and her ass no matter where his mouth was but at this point his tongue on her nipples was non-negotiable.

And his teeth. The well timed and random nibbles he was administering were the icing on the cake.

She hadn’t felt this good in years and that included the hour just passed when he had taken her from behind after she had seduced him with the promise of handcuffing herself to her own hotel room chair.

“Fucking yes!” she growled at him. She felt like some kind of animal spirit had possessed her as she gazed down at her prey. Alison clasped hold of Jeremy’s head and pulled him into her breasts, demanding that he satisfy her need. “This is getting good,” she thought to herself. “It is going to happen!”

Alison increased her tempo, not caring if Jeremy could keep up. She wanted to cum right now, she fucking needed it. Rising higher to squeeze every inch out of him, she crashed back down along his length. Again and again, faster and faster. And then it happened.

She rose just a little too high and then she felt Jeremy pop out, but before she could think, she had come back down onto him. It must have only taken half a second, but it was just enough time for him to move. He hadn’t moved, but he had.

Alison instinctively recoiled to protect herself from the unexpected penetration. The sharp pain in her backside registering a nanosecond later. “Oh shit! Ow, ow, ow, ow!” Alison cried as she realised what had happened. “Fuck!”

Jeremy was confused by Alison’s spasm and sudden change of demeanor. She wrenched herself upward and away from him in one swift move; hovering above him a grabbing at her backside with both hands. Unbalanced on the armchair’s cushioned seat, she began to stagger. She reached out with her right hand for the top of his head, the only stable thing within reach, and then climbed down onto the floor.

Realising what had happened he tried to inject some levity into the situation. “You are out of practice,” he said.

Alison turned to rebuke him for the attack on her backside and now her reputation. But just as the anger was about to boil over into words she paused. It hadn’t been his fault and there was also no lie on Jeremy’s face. Then she remembered. She had done this before. She had done it before with him!

It had been twenty-five years ago in Bathurst. He had come to stay with her at her mother’s house while the house had been empty. She had been planning her latest sexual milestone for weeks. A combination of Cleo magazines and an early game of doctor giving her the idea.

She remembered that she had carefully planned out the whole event with military precision including the before, during and after. The only part she hadn’t been able to anticipate was the feeling of him being in her bum. It had hurt a little to begin with, she remembered, but after a little while the whole thing had been a fun experience.

“That was one time twenty five years ago. Oh course I’m out of practice!” Alison retorted suddenly becoming defensive.

A smile crossed his face. “Twice, actually.”

Alison felt herself getting annoyed at him again, this time for trying to correct her. It was definitely one time only! She’d done it with him out of curiosity more than desire. Once and only once she was sure. And yet he kept grinning at her like the cat who’d gotten the cream.

“Don’t you remember Bathurst and Scott Highman?” he said.

Alison suddenly got an uneasy sense that a suppressed memory was now screaming out to be heard. And then it hit her. She clapped her right hand over her mouth in an involuntary attempt to hide her surprise, her left still rubbing her sphincter. Fuck, it was twice! Oh no, they had done it again and it had been at her request. No, her demand. A pathetic attempt at retribution for a minor insult. One that had almost cost her her reputation.

Scott had been Alison’s platoon commander from the army camp where she had met Jeremy and he had had a thing for her. He was so sure of himself however that he had been bragging about how he would nail her before the end of the camp. She hadn’t known about the brag until much later but it wouldn’t have changed what had happened. She herself had had her eye on Jeremy and nothing else mattered.

But what had riled her up was later learning that Scott still thought that he had some claim on her affections. He’d bailed up Jeremy while they’d all been in Bathurst and called him out as a “cock-blocker“.

When Alison learned of this she flew into a rage. She tarted herself in her most revealing outfit and headed off to confront Scott in front of all his comrades. She’d let him, and anyone who was listening, know that he was never in the race and that he was the last person on Earth that she would sleep with.

When Scott finally relented, he was still in disbelief that Alison would take Jeremy over him. To crush Scott, Alison announced that she was and within five minutes of that confrontation she’d be having anal-sex with Jeremy.

“1997 was a long time ago. We did a lot of crazy things then that we never did again.”

Jeremy remained silent, a small smile creeping across his face.

“What?” Alison said. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing. I believe you.”

“Then what are smiling at?” Alison began to think and then the penny dropped, her eyes narrowing as she spoke. “How many other women have you sodomised over the years?”

Strokin – Clarence Carter

4 thoughts on “The Ghost of Timor – Part 6”

  1. Just noticed (especially after reading your Epilogue post and while considering Alison’s exclamation-marked moments) Alison! is anagram for liaison (which feels fitting for her; the 2nd i in liaison is ! turned upside down). Fucking foxy fiction from you. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 2 people

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