03. Orla's Research - Sex Stories

03. Orla's Research

... glow emanating from the sofa. Even though it had nothing to do with me, it was getting to me. She gasped and dropped the porn again, skin flushed from cheeks to neck. “This is making me quite hot and bothered.” She flapped the magazine in front of her face then added immediately, “How long do you last?” “Eh?” I said intelligently. “I mean before you… you know… erupt!” She made fireworks of her fingers. I laughed and my cheeks prickled. “I don’t know !” I said. “Anyway, it’s not like that. I don’t just turn pages and then suddenly go, ‘oh-my-god-I’m-cumming!'” She laughed and buried and her face in the pages. “So you read it all first, then you… what? Go and have a nice wank?” “Well. Yes, isn’t that what people do?” “I don’t know I’m not a porno boy.” “Neither am I! Anyway you’re the one getting off on it!” She scrutinised me like a child with an insect under a magnifying glass. “Where?” “Where what?” “Where do you do it? In here?” “No! I dunno, the toilet maybe?” Orla grimaced. “Classy,” she said, and leafed through the pages. “Now that does it for me.” She quickly presented a double page spread: a naked woman stood, with her back to the camera, astride a seated naked man. His chin was thrust up between her legs, his huge cock gripped in his hands and cumming everywhere. The woman watched over her shoulder, apparently delighted. The strange girl on my sofa peered at this for ages, tilting her head this way and that, humming. I tried to focus on my work, but my head span. ...

... What was expected of me here? Lucky for me, Orla was about to make her intentions very clear. “Fuck,” she announced and dropped the mag flat across her chest. She squirmed. “I may need to visit the toilet, soon.” A spark arched between us and I knew that wouldn’t happen. I smiled at her and rolled my eyes, trying to be cool and world wise. She giggled and covered her face. “Oh I don’t believe this,” she said hugging her arms across her chest, legs still crossed, foot still flicking. “Just look at me sitting here, bold as you like on your sofa, brazenly reading porn with no knickers on !” With that bombshell, Orla picked up the magazine between us and carried on reading, nonchalantly. I felt the ground melt beneath me, my brain ground to a halt. All cool out the window. How did this happen? Of course. She had been ‘commando’ under her wetsuit when she changed out of it. I honestly had not twigged, all that time she had been sitting there, with no underwear on. To this day bare feet in a skirt give me a hard on. She laughed as I leapt up and was standing over her in two bounds, finding her face grinning behind the wall of porn. She bit her lip, and looked glassily up at me. Her perfect eyes seemed to suddenly fill the room, I felt like I was tumbling into them, a spell only broken by her looking down at herself – a brief flicking gesture of the eyes designed to guide my gaze. While I had been staring dopily into her eyes, Orla had slipped the skirt up her legs to her abdomen. ...