15 – Hacker

I was dreaming about the first time Mary and I made love. It was the first morning of my stay with Mr. Brown. That was the first time I remember sleeping in a soft bed with clean sheets. I woke early as usual and lay in the half-light listening to the new noises and newer silences of Mr. Brown’s apartment. Somebody had left a tap dripping in the bathroom. There was a dull rumble of faraway traffic and the occasional hum of a helicopter flying overhead. One or two creaks as the building warmed up and the intermittent sound of bird song. But there was no whistle of wind seeping through cracks, no rustles from small animals in dark corners. No far away, high pitched calling to payer.
As it got brighter somebody’s alarm clock went off. It only rang for a second before it a hand slammed down to shut it off. It was followed a couple of seconds later by the sound of a wardrobe door sliding open, a faint sound of hangers being pushed about and the door sliding closed. A few seconds of silence, then a click as a door opened into the same corridor as the door to my room. Then the soft padding of bear feet on polished wood coming closer and stopping outside my door.
The handle turned and the door slowly swung open. I closed my eyes. Somebody walked in and stood by the door for a moment. Then the door was softly closed again and the feet continued along the corridor.
I heard running water and the sound of a kettle being filled. More cupboards being opened and the clink of delft. Then the sizzle of bacon and the crack of breaking eggs. They where cooked and put on a plate. Then the steps walked back down the corridor, passed my door, and past the door they had come out of.
There was a soft knock, a muffled reply and a door was opened.
“Good morning, Mr. Brown,” I recognized Mary’s voice, then the door closed and I couldn’t hear what they where doing or saying.
I must have dozed off again because the next thing I remember is Mary saying, “Have a nice day.” And a muffled response from Mr. Brown as the front door closed.
Then the soft pad padding again, coming towards my door and stopping outside. The door was softly opened and closed again.
I felt a presence in the room. Slowly it came closer. A hand ran softly along my back. Someone put their face close to mine and gently brushed some hair from my face, whispering my name.
“Hello, Mary,” I whispered as I dozed. I slowly opened my eyes and saw Hacker’s green eyes shining underneath a haze of black hair.
“Who’s Mary?” he smiled at me, as he continued to slowly run his hands across my body.
“Mmmm, that feels good,” I slurred my words and purred.
“Mmmm?” his smile widened. His eyes traveling along my body, one hand stroking my stomach, the other gripping my right buttock. Gently at first and then suddenly hard.
I jerked in response, “Ouch !”
Smiling he switched back to gentle strokes. He turned me over and concentrated on my right leg. Bending and flexing it, slowly stroking and rubbing, from hip to toe, and back. Then he worked on my other leg and my arms and body and head. I sank deep into a sea of sensations. Quietly buffered this way and that by pleasurable sensations. Flexed this way and that, touched here and there, in a pattern that almost seemed to repeat itself, but never quite did.
And then I responded in kind. As he flexed my leg I flexed his. As he stroked my head I stroked his body. As he blew on my armpit and breast I moaned in pleasure. And my hands roamed his muscle, and skin, and hair, and erection. And he whispered and moaned back. I rubbed my body against his and rapped my arms around him. He rapped his arms around me. I rapped my legs around him. And he sank deep into me.
Afterwards we floated in each other’s arms, holding each other close, as our breathing slowed and we started to talk.

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