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1
Lucas parked his ageing mobile home on the quayside and stepped wearily from the driver’s seat. He’d driven for hours, from the mountains to the east of the archipelago, to where he now found himself once more. He was outside his small apartment, the building looking out on the Ålesund waterfront. It was only too comfortable after the cramped quarters of that van.
He had chosen Norway’s fjords and rugged islands as a place to find inspiration for his work; to paint and reflect on tumultuous times back at home in the only too flat steppes, as he called it, of East Anglia. The skies were big there. Here, you gazed at the isolation and the wonder of the scenery in one direction, turn, and you’d soon see a closely built peninsula with its varied Nordic architecture and the brilliantly coloured house frontages. It was a scene to lift the spirits and a spur to his creative endeavours that also included travel book covers.
His hosts, or owners of the building that housed him, in his only too functional apartment, were a wealthy shipping company owner, Finar Hansen and his wife Mari. Their small ocean-going tourist cruise ships travelled along the country’s coastline and gave their passengers a different perspective of Nordic treasures. That included, in the best of times and in higher latitudes, the magical colours of the Northern Lights.
He had been on a day’s cruise on their yacht and found that to have been enough to have him travel further afield in the van, the logistics of finding fuel and provisions not to be underestimated. But the Hansen’s advice had stood him in good stead, their extensive contacts in the town, and wider neighbourhood, ensuring that he sold some pictures. One was even to be found hanging on the bulkhead of the captain’s cabin in the flagship of their fleet, ‘Arctic Star’.
What Finar and Mari failed to say, or he did not ask, their captivating daughter, Fiona, soon helped him with; she, a graduate from the Bergen National Academy and now spending some time helping out managing their apartment block and select properties scattered about the town.
He tapped the pockets of his jeans and soon found the housekeys. It would be a welcome change to sleep in a bed and not a hard baseboard, with only a thin mattress as its cover.
2
His footfalls echoed in the stairwell as he carried his artist’s materials and a haversack, with his equipment, slung over one shoulder. He dropped them at his front door and soon retraced his steps and brought the rest of his things upstairs. He was disconcerted to find that the door now stood ajar, and his stuff taken inside.
‘Hallo…who’s there?’ he called out in his deep voice.
‘Only me, Lucas!’ came the happy reply, a young woman’s voice and her English heavily accented. ‘I check to see everything is clean for you…’
He felt a jolt of attraction on seeing Fiona again and after two weeks of absence. He was captivated by that wondering smile and look upon him and how she was dressed, her waif-like figure shaped by a cream cotton cardi; Fiona’s slender legs and impossibly narrow waist shaped by skinny jeans. His mind was filled by aberrant thoughts. Should he even go there, touch and then take her youthful, beautifully shaped body and give her the answer to those wondering looks she had cast his way. Had he been, and was he now, mistaken whenever he met them upon him.?
Jeez, had his life without Suzie come to this…his lusting after a young woman who brought so much delight to the eye, and that he would wish to hold and caress?
‘You’re glad I’ve come back,’ he smiled and gently teasing her. Fiona’s lightness of voice and step, as if she was dancing with joy, had not escaped his attention.
‘Yes, Lucas, I am. My mother and I wondered as the days went by when you’d be back here. You know that my father is often away…’
‘And you like having a man about the place, even if it is me…’
‘Don’t put words in my mouth,’ she retorted sharply, ‘please?’
She was being only too grown up in dealing with the situation. ‘No…I won’t. You’re a young woman who can take care of herself…’
‘And of you…your apartment here. It’s my job, remember?’
‘Yes, and I said I’m sorry.’ He moved about the small living area, cluttered with his artist’s materials and finished canvasses. What he had taken on his road trip, north, lay by the door and he worked on in silence as he arranged things, under her watchful gaze. He stopped and saw that she lingered. ‘Don’t let me keep you, Fiona…’
‘You’re not. I want to talk…see what you’ve painted while you’ve been away from me,’ she replied, only too directly.
He smiled at her, on brushing the fingers of one hand through his thick tekirdağ escort greying black hair. It was swept back from his wrinkled forehead. She was a precocious young woman, and he knew that it would be only too easy to fall for her fulsome charms. She was easy on the eye and brought more to his gaze than Mari, her mother. He met the look of her rebellious, soft blue eyes upon him, then saw the pout of her fleshy lips and the challenging look that she gave him. He delighted in how her impossibly blonde hair tumbled across her face. He ought to know better than to lust after her, but she had been close and friendly ever since that boat trip out into the fjord. Then, she had stood by his shoulder as he took a turn at helming the Hansen’s yacht; the scenery breathtaking and an inspiration to his work.
He had chosen to be here, in Ålesund; in an out of the way place, and to work; to use the setting to unwind from all that had happened and had destroyed a more orderly existence. But to have gained the trust and attention of the young woman before him? It defied all reason, but he could glory at the sight of her and wonder what she would bring to his painter’s eye and touch, were he to persuade Fiona to pose and have him paint her.
‘I’ll make a fruit tea…for us,’ he ventured.
‘Let me do that…I know where everything is. Show me your work?’ she asked again on a soft smile.
‘Go on then….’
He stowed away his stuff, as best he could, before assembling his easel and putting one of his works upon it. It was of darkened mountains framed by an eerie glow that his use, for the first time, of some fluorescent colours mixed with oils, that he normally used, captured perfectly. The scene seemed to glow from the chimera of northern lights in the Arctic skies far beyond his vantage point and where he had set up for a few days.
Lucas felt the touch of her hand to his arm and turned to her as Fiona did that.
‘The kettle’s boiling…’ she began, then took in what was there for her to see as she leant past him. ‘It’s wonderful…so…what’s the word in English?’
She drank in his look upon her every time she turned to him.
Lucas moved from her side, shifted the easel away from the light that was cast by the wide window that gave views over the quayside. ‘Evocative…realistic…no artifice…just captures the trick of the night’s sky. It makes you feel small seeing that…an insignificant dot in a boundless universe.’
He gave a rueful smile and soon stood by her side once more. He felt Fiona clutch his hand and looked down at that for a moment.
‘You…you are so sensitive…so honest in what you speak of and see.’ He heard the break in her voice. ‘Sorry…I missed you, crazy as that sounds. I worried that you were out there all alone…in that van with no company and no one to talk to.’
‘It’s a home from home…as this place is, Fiona. That you should care..’ He said it as his fingertips offered the softest caress to her face. She did not move but looked back at him steadily as if to provoke his next move. ‘I…I…want to do this…’
He saw her nod and lips tremble. Fiona seemed to have become so involved with him and he had given her scant encouragement, save for a look her way. But now, emotions overruled all reason.
‘I…I know, and I want that too,’ Fiona whispered, her eyes growing still.
She did not resist him as he drew her to him and kissed her parted lips, moved to embrace her under that cardi. He soon lifted it off her body and gasped as he took in what she wore underneath. Fiona took his hands and brazenly pressed them to the fulsome swell of her firm young breasts, so enticingly shaped and held by a cerise coloured bandeau.
‘Fiona…you’re beautiful…but why me?’
‘Because I see a special man.’ She moved to kiss him. ‘Touch me…I want you to touch me. Let me feel what I see in your eyes when you look at me…’
‘A man who sees a beautiful young woman…’ His fingers brushed across her nipples, that he saw were shaped by the thin fabric. He hesitated, but her trembling hands were in his hair, and she drew him to them. She groaned as his lips and fingers caressed and nipped slow tugging kisses to them.
‘Oh…oh, that feels so good!’
‘Where’s Mari?’ he demanded to know as she pressed against him, fumbled with his shirt buttons before pressing her lips to his skin. She moved to kiss his throat and shivered on feeling his hands on her skin, at her hips as he held her to him. ‘I…I want you…’
‘And I want to know you…help you…take away what ever it is that brought you here. You run away from something…or from someone.’
‘Be quiet on that…just be quiet on tekirdağ escort bayan that!’ His mouth crashed against hers as he lifted Fiona to him. ‘You…you know how it is for me now…on seeing you like this.’
Fiona felt her heart pounding; felt a tightness in her throat on hearing him speak out that he wanted her. Or, was it just an act to test her resolve at what had so quickly played out between them?
She leant back in his embrace and met his look upon her. The closed in guy who worked and worked, then went away for spells at a time only to return, had become someone else. Until moments ago, he’d given no sign that he lusted after her, but she knew of it now. She felt the man’s penis against her belly and knew that he would fill her slender body. She shuddered on realising that he would plumb and stretch her like no one before, none of the guys she’d let in when in Bergen.
They had all been rites of passage compared to this man, a strong and grey-haired man with his wondering eyes on her like no one before. She squirmed on feeling the rush of wetness between her legs and the gnaw of longing in her young body. She would have him and an older man would satisfy the aching sense of anticipation of what would be shared and that claimed her body and mind now.
He leaned in, his lips close to her mouth and his eyes locked on hers. He spoke quietly. ‘I’m going to fuck you…want to do that…you beautiful wonder. Is that okay?’
She shivered on hearing the words fall from his lips in time with the caress of his fingers to the swell of her breasts; the ache to be felt there and that his touches and press of mouth to them again aroused. ‘Yes…yes…okay! Show me how to fuck you back!’
The use of coarse words seemed strangely appropriate to the situation.
Fiona ran from him and into the bedroom. He followed, tugging away his shirt and kicking off his shoes; tugged on his belt and pushed his jeans and briefs to the floor.
He silenced her gasps of dismay on seeing him, gloriously naked and strong, with a flurry of kisses. They couldn’t stop in their fevered questing touches and rush of kisses, words no longer needed. Their actions revealed what possessed their thoughts now.
3
Her feet scrabbled on the bed; her hands were in his hair; his beard caressed and inflamed her senses as it brushed the soft skin of her thighs as his tongue and lips claimed and were then in her. She gasped out his name and her disbelief at all that she had so willingly succumbed to. He had become so in control of the situation between them and denied her any chance of a way out. But Lucas spoke softly as his fingers now opened her to his deepening claims.
He moved up the bed and kissed her. He felt Fiona clamp his hands to her breasts; squirmed on feeling his lips on them as they tugged gently before he let them fall back. He pushed her breasts up and offered lingering kisses to the warm skin underneath.
‘They’re yours…yours!’ she cried out as he took to them once more, then offered slow kisses to her stomach and belly, her navel, before parting her lips and his tongue finding her. He offered no respite in the swirling probing magic of all that he brought to her. ‘You’ll waste me doing that!’
She froze for a moment before she withed and scrabbled on the bed once more. She yelled out in her native tongue then met his look and slow seducing kisses, as his fingers caressed and claimed her without reprieve.
‘Yes, now let it go…Fiona…let it go you wonder,’ he kissed as she shuddered; threw her arms about his neck and held him tight until her orgasm slowly subsided.
‘Let…let me now?’ she gasped on reaching for him; slid her hands between their bodies and touched the tip of his penis as it pressed against her belly.
She soon straddled him; tugged on the hair on Lucas’s chest then kissed her way down his stomach and bent to claim him; offered kisses to its full length as she squeezed on his balls; rolled them between her fingers. Lucas lifted his hips to meet her claims.
‘You…you do that so well!’ he assured her on sharp intakes of breath. He encouraged her to continue.
‘I…I want it all to be real…no longer imagined,’ she confessed.
‘You’ve done that?’ he asked, raising his head from the pillows to look at her.
‘Yes…and you haven’t?’ she said on a teasing smile. She had let him go on seeing the arcing length of his penis, how roused he was.
‘Sit on me…’ he commanded, and she did so; held his hands as his fingers parted her wet folds, and then one, as he gripped that pole of his and had her take him.
Her fingers dug into his chest as she slowly lowered herself onto escort tekirdağ him; shuddered as he opened the way into her slender body.
‘Oh…oh Lucas…you’re so deep…I can…can feel it! It’s almost in my chest…I feel it there…’ she groaned in disbelief; gripped his wrists as his hands clamped on her gently swaying breasts. She kissed his body as he pulled on them to bring her to him before his mouth tugged on her hard, proud nipples again. He paid homage to her, and she loved to feel that from him. ‘Yes…love all of me!’
His hands were on her hips; Lucas set the rhythm and she gushed; felt her wetness on his belly and base of his shaft as her fingers pricked there.
‘Lucas…I’m…I’m…’
‘Not yet…not without me!’
She felt him move and reach for the drawer of the bedside table, his mouth torn from her breasts as she reached for the condom and tore its wrapper open. She shivered as he withdrew, and she was made to stretch it over his penis. It strained. It was like a second skin. Lucas did not allow her to sit on him once more.
Instead, and with her panting for breath and anxious to know what would follow, he had her kneel on the bed and he moved behind her; gripped her boney hips before he moved to take her; mount her from behind.
‘Lucas?’ she called out in fear. He pushed gently but did not enter, just teased her opening. She touched herself; felt the tip close to the haven it again sought in her young body.
Lucas hesitated. ‘May I?’
She nodded; twisted to look behind her and met his hooded stare as Lucas pulled her onto him. His slow searching movements pushed it in, but he was soon thrusting in hard, her gasps and his grunts on the air; the bed rocked.
‘So strong…you’re so strong for me!’
‘Does it hurt….am I hurting you?’
‘No…oh, Lucas, no!’ she whimpered.
It felt big and solid, the biggest that any lover had brought to her, and she knew that her body and ways turned him on. She felt waves of pleasure and spending wrack her body as Lucas pounded into her. She bit into her hands as she bent forward; stifled her cries and wanted no one in the adjoining apartments to know that the boss’s daughter was being fucked like never before.
The grip of his hands on her breasts drew her back against him; she felt impaled, yet she turned her head to meet his kisses as she reached up to keep his mouth to her. She loved the feel of his rough hands on her breasts, how he cupped them as if feeling their weight. He was paying homage to her as they loved. It was something quite new for her to know of. She could not get enough of the hungry kisses of an older man; a man who lustfully pursued her and who resumed to thrust into her like no one had done before.
‘Finish it!’ she cried out as Lucas pushed her forward, his rough hand on her shoulders as he pumped her from behind, thrusting so hard that she felt them take shuffling steps higher up the bed, only for him to pull her back. Sharp breaths and groans crossed her lips. Lucas didn’t speak any more, but his deepening breaths had her know that he was pleased to take her and hear her calls. They made him know how she felt, pleasure vying with shame and how sexy it was to have her young body and mind claimed by this man. ‘How…how can you go on? I can’t Lucas…I can’t!’
She’d lost all sense of time, but he kept loving her…harder and faster, so much so that she felt he’d wreck the bed as he pumped her; slammed his hips against her bony bum and filled her body with his prick until it felt she had nothing else inside her but him.
‘Fiona…my lovely!’ she heard him cry out as his movements stalled and he waited for her.
‘Yes…now!’
She felt his body shudder as she lost it; felt him burst as wave after wave of rapid orgasms took her and made her push up from the bed and feel his arms enfold her. She felt his hands tug and squeeze on her breasts and his breaths searing, hot, on her skin as they shared…shared in the moment of their orgasms.
‘Lucas…Lucas…you wonder. I feel so wanted…have been loved like never before.’
She received no reply; just felt him embrace her and breathe on her skin and to take in her warmth, her comforting warmth, as she believed he had sought all along.
‘You’ll mend me,’ he said at last, and she turned in his embrace to meet a slow kiss. ‘You bring the spirit of youth. I lost my wife and my daughter in a car smash. I have nothing left…no one…except their memories. I paint…and I need to love with all that I have…while I can.’
He eased from her body, but Fiona kept him to her; made him lie down and she lay upon him; felt his arms embrace her as she breathed on his skin; offered kisses to his face. They were of comfort, and not of a raging lust for this man as before. She would know of this again with him. She wanted it to be so.
‘I’ll start to mend you…want to be your healing touch whenever you need that. The passionate man, that you are, will be my teacher and I will love you for being that to me.’
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