Milly
As promised, Ben treats me to a full English breakfast before taking me to the Victoria & Albert Museum, which is high on my list of things to see and do while in London. And true to his word, he tries to fuck me numerous times in every dark corner we pass.
“We’re going to get kicked out,” I scold, knocking his hands away from the buttons on my blouse. We’re like two horny teenagers, and even though I’m resisting the urge to have him back inside me, I can’t keep my lips off him.
“Then hurry up so that we can go home,” he urges me. “It’s just a bunch of old shit.”
He’s wrong because there’s plenty of “new shit” at the V&A mixed in with the “old shit.” Currently, I’m transfixed by an exhibit of wedding dresses. I scoff at his remark. “Are you kidding me? Who knows when I’ll get to see this ‘old shit’ again, so you can just keep your dick in your pants and let me enjoy this.”
Ben frowns and turns away. He can’t seriously be hurt that I don’t want to have sex, can he? We wander for a few more hours until I feel like I’ve had my fill. You can come back, I tell myself. Pace yourself.
Ben is more than happy to leave, and as soon as we’re outside, he finds a dark alley and presses me against a cold brick wall. His lips crash down hard on mine, claiming me. “Turn around,” he orders. “Hands on the wall.”
My body moves automatically, and I feel a rush of cold air on my bare skin as Ben lifts my long maxi skirt. He pushes my panties to the side and parts my folds with his fingers. He spreads my wetness up and down my pussy, a sign that he’s kept me wet and wanting all day with his kisses and caresses. I hear the tearing of foil and then the sound of latex on skin. A moment later, the head of his cock is notched against my entrance, and in one smooth thrust, he buries himself inside me.
“Oh god, you feel so perfect,” he groans. “This won’t take long, sweetheart. Fast and dirty.”
I press my ass against him and wiggle it, a silent agreement to his plan. I want him just as badly. He slaps my ass appreciatively and begins to hammer into me. Soon, the sounds of skin-on-skin contact fill the darkened alleyway, and anyone who passes by would be able to tell what is happening. But I don’t care. With one hand on the brick wall, I sneak the other hand between my legs and stroke myself.
“Yes, you dirty girl,” Ben hisses when my fingers brush his cock. “Keep playing with yourself.”
My fingers strum furiously as Ben surges forward once, twice, and then stills. I feel him pulse inside me and let myself go, tumbling over the edge right into bliss. He withdraws, and I hear the sound of the condom hitting the pavement below. I adjust my panties and let my skirt fall back down, covering my bare legs before turning to face him.
“I’m sorry,” Ben says softly, brushing his thumb across my cheek. “I’ve never felt like this before. So crazy and full of need. It’s like once is not enough.”
I nod because I feel the same way. This trip is supposed to cure my insatiable wanderlust, but what if it leads to something more? The thought is temporary, though. I’ve let too many people stand in my way, and even though Ben is a nice perk of this trip, I have to remain focused on what I want.
“Let’s get cleaned up and then I’ll take you back out. Wherever you want to go,” Ben says, extending his hand toward me. I want to take it, but I decide it’s best to keep a little bit of distance. His face falls when he realizes that I won’t be accepting his hand, and he quickly recovers by shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
When we arrive at the flat, I quickly change out of my maxi skirt and into a pair of skinny jeans along with a pair of comfortable shoes. When I step out into the living area, Ben is engrossed in a phone call. I sit and flip through a guide book that I purchased, waiting for his conversation to end.
“I’m sorry, Milly, but there’s a problem at the pub. Our normal delivery was totally fucked up, and now I’ve got to go and sort out the mess.” He looks genuinely sorry, and I feel awful that all I can think about is how I’ve got the perfect excuse now to explore on my own.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine on my own,” I say, waving my guidebook in front of him. “I’ve always wanted to get good and lost.”
Ben’s brow furrows, and he makes a disapproving noise. “I don’t really like the idea of you going out alone in London. I’ll only be an hour if you want to wait.”
I roll my eyes because I hate that people assume I’m totally helpless. Holly does it a lot, and this trip is also meant to prove to my family and friends, and maybe myself, that I’m capable of more than they thought.
“Ben, I’ll be fine, and if I run into trouble, there’s always this,” I say, holding up my cell phone before realizing that I don’t even have his phone number. I hold it out to him, and say, “It might be helpful to have your number, though.”
Ben locks his green eyes on me and holds me captive in his stare as he stalks toward me and takes my phone from his hand. I squirm slightly because the man is sexy when he’s brooding. His fingers fly across the screen before he hands the phone back to me. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he says, his voice stern.
I want to say something smart in return, but I swallow my words. Ben cups my face and kisses me fiercely. “Come to the pub when you’re done exploring,” he tells me.
I follow him out of the flat, and when he turns to head toward the pub, which is only a few blocks away, I’m more than eager to head in the opposite direction toward Kensington Gardens. I’m desperate to explore the neighborhoods teeming with so much history and to see places that I’ve only dreamed about visiting.
This is the cure for wanderlust that I came to find.