“Fuck! Too much,” she cried out.
Rick released her swiftly; rising up, he penetrated her again. This time he seemed intent on finding his own pleasure. Leah didn’t mind. She wanted to feel him burst inside her. She perched her bottom on a rung, shoed feet on tiptoes and held on to him tightly as he pounded her.
His hand hoicked a leg up, palm supporting her upper thigh and the ladder complained about the extra weight.
Rick had a feverish appearance, beads of sweat on his forehead, his chocolate mop dancing about on his head as he pummelled her core. He seemed to grow bigger, filling all of her, putting her natural elasticity to the test. The friction was intense and it worked some kind of magic. She was about to come again.
Clenching and squeezing, she massaged his cock with frantic pulses of her vaginal muscles. Rick hollered, juddered violently, and the heat inside her signalled his orgasm. It lingered on, spurting hard at first, then subtler, slower until he stopped moving and sighed. His head rested on her shoulder and she folded her arms about him, stroking his broad shoulder blades.
Her back hurt. Now she could feel the lashes of the flogger, the burning heat in her bottom, and the chafing of the ladder.
“I can’t…” she muttered.
Rick shifted, stood up, letting his semi-erect cock flop against his thigh. Taking his hand, she eased her sore body upright, checked her balance, and tentatively moved away from the ladder.
“Wow,” said Rick. “That was amazing. You were amazing. This ladder is amazing.” He gave the ladder a hard shake against the wall. There was a loud crack, a splintering of wood, and one of the side struts came away, toppling to the floor with a loud clatter.
Leah and Rick stared at it, at each other, lips pursed, and then they burst out laughing.
“That was close,” said Rick. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Ten
Leah had been gone twenty minutes. They had arrived home from their trip via lunch in Ormskirk and discovered the lack of milk in the refrigerator. Leah had offered to walk down to the small village store and buy a pint. Rick suspected she would come back with a small bag of bon-bons too. The sweet jars behind the counter were irresistible to her.
Rick relaxed in an armchair, Sunday newspaper in hand, and he perused the football results. It was a half-hearted attempt at reading; his mind drifted back to the morning, the hangar, and the incredible sex. He wished he could repeat it soon. In two weeks, his contract would be finished. The agency would probably offer him alternative work, possibly on Merseyside, though they provided services across the north. He might end up in Manchester or Sheffield, driving steel magnates and their wives.
He didn’t want to go, but he wasn’t going to be supported by a young woman and have no job. It went against the ethics his father had drummed into him. Picking up the Liverpool Echo—he had rescued it from the rubbish pile—he began to wonder if he should find a local job, maybe a security guard at the docks. The pay would be abysmal, but it would keep him in Liverpool, allow him to stay with Leah. Assuming she wanted him to stay.
As he pondered his options, the front door banged loudly, the glass rattling in the frame. Leah burst into the room, clutching a pint of milk to her chest, tears streaming down her face.
Rick grabbed the bottle out of her hands before she dropped it and she immediately buried herself in his arms, sobbing and shaking. He managed to put the pint down on a nearby table before embracing her trembling body in his arms.
“What is it?” he said, alarmed.
She hiccupped, unable to string two words together and he drew her down on to his lap in a chair. There she curled up while he stroked her hair and whispered soothing words into her ears. Her panicked state sent waves of adrenaline through his body and he feared what she might tell to him.
Leah began to recover her poise and she brushed away the tears, sitting up on his lap, looking quite young and childlike.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m a little overwrought and it will probably be for no reason.”
“You tell me, and I’ll decide.” He tilted her chin up, looking into her puffy eyes. He offered her his hankie, and she blew into it and took a deep breath.
“I went to the shop. Got my pint and came out,” she began speaking in short bursts. “There were two men sitting on a wall nearby, smoking cigarettes, and as I walked by, they got up and began to walk behind me.”
“Go on,” said Rick, unnerved by what she was telling him.
“Didn’t think anything of it at first. Except they didn’t move past me. You know, men walk quicker, I expected them to overtake me. So I glanced behind and they were matching my pace. I sped up, so did they. I slowed, they did. Shit, I was spooked.”
“What did they look like?”
“I’m not so sure of the details. They were dressed in dark clothes. Not suits, but smart stuff. Leather jackets. Which is weird, because it isn’t cold out, but they looked like it was the middle of winter. Shades. Moustaches too.”
Rick swallowed hard. “What happened next?”
“All those conversations with my daddy came rushing back. How he told me always watch my back. He didn’t want to scare me, but I knew he worried about me, what with the money and the threat of kidnappers and ransoms. It all flooded back, these little chats of his and I turned round again and demanded to know what they were doing.”
“Leah, you shouldn’t have spoken to them!”