His Egyptian blue eyes are smiling. She smiles back at him and orders, "Flip me over!"

Let's be honest, she always writes it into the text - but how does it actually feel? His eyebrows twitch, and he's obviously calculating the mechanics in his head. He picks her up under her arms and in a swift movement pushes her off him and onto the bed. It's not perfect, she ends up sort of on her side, but he immediately rolls over her, and she's willing to disregard the details. He presses his lips to her throat, and she tilts her head back. His mouth is moving on her skin, and it's amazing! Hm, they just found an erogenous zone on her! Honestly, it's like starting from scratch. She hardly remembers how it was with Allan, and she can't find them on her own. She tried. It's just something her own fingers can't do.

Oh, her collarbone turns out to be one of those zones as well. He tries to slide down, but she grabs handfuls of his hair.

"A bit more... Please?"

He hums in obvious agreement and licks along her clavicle. Bugger, that was good! He gives the other side the same treatment and then peppers a few kisses on her sternum.

He rubs the tip of his long nose in the hollow between her clavicles and then moves lower. A few kisses to the upper parts of her breasts, above the red lace, and then he moves onto her stomach. A few kisses there, and he halts, his nose pressed to the hem of the lace on her knickers. He hooks his fingers over the sides and pulls them down. Well, she did imagine him do it with his teeth, but– There's always next time. And again, it's hard to know if it's doable or only described in half arse novels, like the ones she writes. She decides to postpone the investigation for later. She lifts her hips, and he pulls the thong off. He needs to make a few awkward movements on the bed, to get them off her feet, and almost topples over the edge. Then he's back, his eyes glued to her 'nether regions.' She never liked that term.

When leaving Olivia's flat, Bea stopped in the doorframe, and leaning in she whispered into her ear, "Shave your lady friend, darling. All of it, he'll like the change."

Olivia huffed in indignation, "That's just ridiculous. Do men even care?"

Bea gave her a pitiful look and shook her head.

"Olive, my love, trust the master."

Olivia did trust the master, and yes, men do care. He lowers his face and licks the naked patch of skin, where her curls used to be. Whether he had time to see them yesterday or not, judging by the low rumble in his chest he's enjoying what he's seeing now.

"Sod it." He's pretty much moaning. "It's so bloody sexy... I've never seen it like that..."

Point Olivia. Alright, point Bea. But Olivia's the one to reap the fruit.

And then he licks across her folds, using her own vernacular, and her body jerks. He lowers his face and presses his tongue to her flat. He gently moves it up and down, stroking her clit, and it's so good. She moans and arches her back. It's good... So good... And now it's repetitive.

"John..."

He hums showing that he's listening.

"You need to—"

She gestures vaguely in the air with her hand, and she sees him look at her hand from the corner of his eye. He's following the movement of her fingers with his stare, and an idea comes to her head.

She fists her hand and sticks out only her index finger. She wiggles it up and down.

"This is good. But you need diversity. Like this... "

She wags the finger left and right - and feels his tongue mimic the movement. Hm... She draws a circle in the air with her digit and feels his hot tongue swirl over her clit. Crikey, it's like dirty conducting! Olivia Dane, you are a sex kapellmeister!

She slowly lifts the finger and then zigzags it down. Oh yes, that's my groove, baby! She orders another swirl, and he delivers. And then a smaller circle, and tighter and faster, and oh my, oh my... She's so close...

"Clit!" she shrieks out.

Whatever his skills are, he's familiar with female anatomy. He gives it a gentle suck, and she comes. The orgasm is sweet and deep, sort of spilling over her whole lower body. Waves of pleasure go from her lady parts into her stomach, and then up, into her breasts, her nipples tightening, and then even into her extremities. She wiggles her fingers in some strange happy flutters. Funny, usually if she stimulates her clit, the orgasm just sort of stays there. This one is quite a traveller!

She's coming down from it, and he puts his head on her stomach.

"I love the sounds you make."

He sounds chuffed. She freezes and grows tense. Right, the mewling noises. They are cute in the books, but in real life she sounds like a puppy demanding a treat.

"Um..."

What can she say? He lifts his face and looks at her smiling. She loves the crow's feet.

"No, honestly, they're adorable. I pledge to extract them out of you more often."

He's supporting himself on one elbow and salutes her with the second hand with a comically serious facial expression.

She laughs, and he smiles.

"Should I run to the bathroom? I mean the face–" He wipes it with his hand. "And the beard."

She smiles in return.

"No, I don't mind."

She opens her arms, and he slides up her body.

They're kissing, and then he mumbles into her mouth, "Olivia..."

"Yes?"

"Can we do something– Sort of out of left field–" He doesn't finish, and she can see he's hesitant.

She strokes his beard and quickly kisses the corner of his mouth.

"Haven't we agreed to fulfill a fantasy of yours tonight?" she says playfully.

Suddenly his face drops. He looks sideways and sighs. Odd.

"John, I am pretty sure there's nothing that shocking you could have fantasised about," she says with a small laugh. "We can talk about it, and if it's too much I'll just say so straight, alright?"

"You definitely should always tell me everything straight, Olivia, but what I was going to say–"

She notices that his cheeks are flushed above his beard, and she's almost alarmed. Her oxytocin filled brain is a bit foggy. What can he possibly want to do that's got his knickers in such a knot to ask for? What if it's some sort of a very borderline, painful thing?

"Can we actually get dressed and get some groceries?"

He smiles. When doesn't he? It's a soft shy smile, and his lips twitch.

Wait, what?! He was randy, like properly randy! Dragged her into the flat, tore her clothes off her, well, figuratively speaking. And c'mon, she can feel his cock press into her leg! It's far from floppy!

"Pardon me?"

"I'm hungry," he says quietly. "And by the time we're done, I'll be starving, and– And to be honest I really wanted to cook dinner with you."

He sits up, and she's staring at him in disbelief. Among other things that are funny about his offer to go get some nosh now, his cock is sticking up at a forty five degrees angle to the bed!

"The grocery shop is right around the corner. And then we can eat and go back to this."

He gestures at the bed.

"You are actually serious!" she squeaks, and he nods.

To think of it, she's... fine with it. She got her treat. She feels rad, and tired - and peckish too. But is he honestly going to get up from the bed, pull up his trousers, and walk to pick potatoes and leek for their dinner?

She points at his - still properly impressive - erection with her eyes.

"And that?"

He smiles wider.

"It can wait. I just wanted you to have fun. And then again, if you stay the night..."

His voice trails away. He sounds adorably uncertain and hopeful.

"Alright." She can't believe she just said that. "Let's get your groceries."

He happily jumps off the bed and starts picking up his clothes.

She follows his example and then realises there's a flaw in his plan.

"John, I really can't go to a shop in this."

The dress is hardly decent, and no way in hell she's clumping through the aisles of frozen peas and carrots in these heels. The heels she's still wearing, by the way. He wrinkles his brow and rubs the tip of his nose with his index finger. Her heart is flooded with tenderness. She's so in love with this gesture of his. Wait, did you just think that you're in love?!

He goes to the build-in wardrobe and starts rummaging through the contents of the shelves, giving her a moment to exhale and straighten her thoughts. He pulls out a pair of denim and a jumper.

"If you tighten a belt and roll up the sleeves and the bottom of the trousers, you might be alright."

She's studying the clothes.

"I botched up the settings in the machine, and they shrank."

He's giving her an endearing embarrassed smile.

She puts the clothes on and looks at herself in the mirror hanging on the wardrobe door. She doesn't look that bad. They're obviously his, but she managed to roll them up just as he said. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are shining, which all together shows the world she's just shagged, and it was good. Isn't it the whole purpose of putting on a man's clothes on? The cliché of a girl wearing his shirt, her fingers adorably sticking out of sleeves that are too long, she is all delicate, and dainty, and disheveled, and looks radiant... Oh, sod it all, she's entitled to a bit of a cliché in her life. She feels all warm and fuzzy inside. It's daft and endlessly banal. But sod it, she's going to enjoy every little thing that comes with the presence of a bloke in one's life!

He comes out of the bedroom, changed and obviously not turned on anymore - she discreetly peeked at his crotch - and tilts his head.

"We still have to decide on the issue of these." He points at her strappy 'sex sandals.'

"I have a pair of flats in the car."

His face lights up.

"Well, that's just brill!"

He grabs his keys, and the two of them head out for groceries. Would you just look at that.