A compound of three Sanskrit words, Sat, Cit, and Ãnanda meaning existence, consciousness and bliss.
Ellie peeks through the blinds, watching their new neighbour as he lovingly cleans his car. She can’t take her eyes off the way he fills out the back, and the front of those cargo pants. His grey tee-shirt is wet from the soapy water, sticking to his body in all the right places, and Ellie stutters in a shaky breath as he leans closer and begins to buff the shiny surface, paying close attention to every detail.
Nipples hardening, Ellie imagines that it’s her bodywork John’s lingering over and running the flat of her palm over her dress, she lets it come to rest over her mound, middle finger pressing against her clitoris which is aching to be touched. Circling her hips, she begins the slow shameless build to climax, watching John lean over the hood and recalling the photo she saw on Sarah’s iPhone when she was looking for pictures of her brother. For some reason Chuck’s girlfriend has taken a shot of John handcuffed to the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of loose boxers and a white shirt. Ellie’s never asked Sarah why she has a picture of Casey gagged and bound; just the thought of it makes her so excited she can barely remember how to speak. She’s spent hours imagining what’s beneath those silky shorts. In fact she’s imagining it now and is almost on the point of…
“Babe, where are my blue cycle pants?”
Blushing beetroot red and flooded with confusion, Ellie lets her hands drop to her sides. This is the first time she’s ever done anything so crude, shamefully masturbating as she spies on her neighbour. What is the matter with her?
*
Casey knows that the Bartowski girl is standing there watching him the whole time he cleans the car and he plays on it, bending over longer than he needs to, angling his body so she gets a perfect view, giving her the occasional glimpse of his semi-erect cock. Yeah, he gets turned on by her interest. Who wouldn’t? Ellie Bartowski is one hell of a woman and he’d be a fool not to get hard over her.
Slowly but surely he’s reeling her in and he knows it won’t be long before she makes the first move. He’s come close to it already, sensing the heat coming off her every time she’s close to him, but he’s not the kind of man to actively break up someone’s relationship. He is, however, the kind of man to jump at an opportunity when it arises.
Subtly teasing the zipper of his pants down, he adjusts the lie of his cock then picking up the bucket of water and box of cleaning products he turns to give Ellie a quick full frontal before heading back to his apartment. She’s still there, a shadowy figure watching his every move, and as he stiffens to full erection he wonders how much of a view she’s getting through his open fly. He should never go commando; it’s too much of a temptation.
*
“My cycle shorts?”
“In the dryer,” Ellie snaps, wishing that both Devon and Chuck would stop being so dependent and leave her alone.
As John picks up the bucket, she not only gets another prime view of his buttocks but also, when he spins around, she almost forgets how to breathe because the zipper on his pants has come undone and she gets to see a hint of dark pink flesh. She must be imagining things; she does that a lot at the moment.
He walks past her window and she knows she should take a step back to safety, but she has to have a closer look. The material of his cargo pants is gaping a little and she gets another quick view of what’s inside. He’s hard. Oh god, he’s hard.
Collapsing onto the bed Ellie covers her eyes and tries to stop herself from thinking all these dirty thoughts about the man. He’s their neighbour. He’s Chuck’s work colleague. She’s engaged to Devon. There are so many reasons why she shouldn’t act on her impulses, but all she can think of is John and more specifically, John’s cock.
*
It won’t be long now, thinks Casey as he tips the water down the drain and puts the car cleaning kit neatly away under the sink. It was inevitable from the first moment they saw each other.
Every time he thinks of Ellie he wants to jerk off. He’s done enough of it in the past, lying naked on the bed and pulling himself off relentlessly to thoughts of her beautiful body. Not today though. Today he has to shower, meet up with Walker to discuss a case and then go in for a shift at the Buy More. It’s going to be a long, uncomfortable afternoon.
Showering is difficult, but he takes his mind off things by thinking about Devon. The guy is attractive and nicely muscled in all the right places, but he’s a class ‘A’ idiot -- a big macho jock made up of all the wrongs kinds of macho. Devon is a typical football-playing, keg-party bully who's no good for Ellie Bartowski. She needs someone who’ll appreciate her.
Just that one thought has Casey as stiff as a poker all over again and, rinsing himself off, he tries to ignore the thrum of need running up the length of his cock. He doesn’t believe in masturbating just to get off. Sex--even with oneself--is something that should be taken seriously. He gained an understanding of Tantra when he was in Asia and uses the practices to have a greater knowledge of his body. His cock may be arching upwards from his groin, urgently demanding satisfaction, but he’s the one in control.
*
Ellie tries to disguise her frustration, but as she slams the skillet down onto the counter she has a feeling that most people in the house know that something is wrong. John left for work hours ago. She watched him drive off wearing that hideous Buy More shirt and feels so abandoned being stuck here in the apartment. She wants to be in the car with him.
“What’s up, sis?” asks Chuck.
“Oh nothing. Except that I’m always the one in the kitchen and you’re always the one playing video games.”
“I… could order in?” suggests Chuck helpfully.
“Chuck,” yells Morgan. “You’re missing the Halo party.”
“I’m off to the gym, babe,” calls Devon and without giving Ellie time to answer he’s gone.
“I don’t care what any of you do.” She makes this frustrated snarl then slams her hands down on the counter. “I’m going out.”
“Sis?”
Picking up her car keys Ellie makes a run for the door. She doesn’t want to hear Chuck’s pathetic apologies because then she’ll just end up feeling guilty.
“Ellie?”
Slamming the door she climbs into her car and, with no conscious knowledge of where she’s going, ends up in the parking lot of the Buy More with her phone in her hand. She has his number--she took it from Sarah’s phone the same time that she sent herself that photo--but she’s never used it until now.
“John, I need to see you. I’m outside.”
After the short conversation is over she realises that she never once mentioned who she was and he never asked.
*
Striding purposefully through the car park, Casey hunts Ellie down. She’s sitting in her car, gazing into space and at first glance she looks miserable, but the closer he gets the more he can see signs of arousal written all over her -- flushed skin, dilated pupils, breath heaving in through those beautiful full lips. Hell, he wants her so bad.
Leaning in through the open window he rests his fingers on her arm. “I booked a room at the Fairmont for a Mr and Mrs Price.” He can see how nervous she is. “No pressure. We can just talk if that’s what you want.”
“It’s not.” She turns to look at him, eyes raking over his body.
Cock stiffening to erection he juts his hips forward so she can see the full effect she’s having on him and she licks her lips, fingers making this slight grabbing motion as if she’s imagining how good it would be to touch him.
“I finish my shift in two hours. I’ll meet you there.”
Ellie slides her hand back until she’s clasping his fingers. “Thank you,” she says.
He nods in complete understanding. Her gratitude is not because he’s booked a room for them, or because he wants her as much as she wants him. She’s thanking him for not making too much out of this. It’s simple. They need each other and they’re going to have each other. He’s not certain he can wait another two minutes, let alone hours.
*
Ellie drives to the hotel in a state of excitement, so overwhelmed with desire that she can hardly concentrate on the road and almost misses the entrance. By the time she parks and gets out of the car, her clit is aching and she can feel a flood of wetness building between her legs. She must reek of craving.
Booking in should feel far more wicked than it does. It’s obvious she’s here for a secret liaison from the fact that she has no luggage, but she doesn’t care what anyone thinks. John has already paid for everything in advance so no credit card is needed and as it happens, the hotel staff are discreet and obviously used to this kind of assignation -- probably with some far more notorious guests.
Even with no suitcases to carry, the bellboy still shows her to the room and again she feels that intense quiver of excitement work through her body. John has booked one of the hotel’s infamous bungalows, buried deep in a jungle of plant life, and it’s the most perfect place imaginable. Maybe he does this kind of thing often. The man is an enigma.
Tipping the bellboy generously, Ellie closes the door of the bungalow, revelling in the privacy more than the luxury. Finally able to relax, she strips out of her clothes and lies back on the bed, arms and legs stretched out fully as she breathes in deep and imagines the pleasure that tonight will bring. Checking the clock she begins to count down the minutes until John arrives and decides to take a long a bath to pass the time.
The bathroom has every item imaginable. She lounges in the soaking tub, hair pulled up into a bun, and it’s almost impossible to resist the temptation to dip a finger between her legs and bring herself off. She’s so full of need it would only take one touch. “Be here soon,” she whispers. “I can’t wait.”
Getting out before she prunes up, Ellie dries herself off and is about to indulge in a drink from the mini-bar when she changes her mind and orders a selection of cold food and champagne from the room service menu. When John arrives he’ll be hungry -- hopefully in more ways than one.
The next decision is harder to make. Should she remain in her bathrobe or would John prefer her to be wearing her short shift dress and high heeled sandals so he can unwrap her fully? She chooses to get dressed, the gusset of her panties still wet from earlier anticipation. He’ll enjoy that.
“Be here soon,” she begs again as she thinks about the picture in her phone and the slight glimpse of hard flesh which is all that she’s seen of him so far.
When the door to the bungalow pushes open, she struggles to withhold a spontaneous orgasm.
*
Ellie looks at him with wide open eyes and John slams the door closed, willing up a little self-control. She’s a wonderful vision of unadulterated desire and he takes in every gorgeous inch of her. He had thought today would be a slow seduction, a perfect example of slow burning desire, but they’re both too worked up for that.
Before he can step further into the room she approaches, hips swinging defiantly, eyes dark and glinting. Dropping to her knees, she licks those dark pink lips as she unfastens his belt buckle with trembling fingers then, with her hand poised over the zipper of his fly, she looks up at him.
“Suck me,” he says. No please and no endearments are necessary.
Without a hint of showiness she unfastens his pants and caresses the bulge that's distorting his tight boxer briefs then, fingering open the slit in those shorts, she pulls him out. He’s harder than he’s been for a long time.
“Take it easy,” he warns. Anything more than a slow build up will have him reaching climax. Even Tantra won’t help him now.
She understands. He’s certain she’s as close as he is. Looking up, she squeezes the base of his cock and then with gentle lips and rhythmic tongue she goes down on him.
*
John’s cock is everything she knew it would be. It’s a perfect size and shape with no ugly veins distorting the skin. He’s cut as she always knew he would be and he keeps the shaft shaved smooth and the pubic hairs trimmed. Her mouth waters in delight as she bends her head closer, taking one long lick up the length then, very slowly, engulfing the head.
He’s been working all day, she hasn’t given him time for a shower, and because of this he tastes of sweat and salt with just a vague scent of masculine shower gel. As she swallows down more of his cock she breathes in deeply, enjoying his absolute maleness.
Devon is a very vocal, very uncontrolled lover. He thrusts and shoves, pushing Ellie into position and tugging at her hair but John is a delicious contrast to this. He remains entirely still, trusting her completely, and his soft moans of delight have her dripping wet down her thighs.
As she sucks him--worships him--she explores gently with her hands, cupping the swell of his buttocks and testing the weight of his balls. Still working him with her mouth she slowly undresses him, undoing his laces then pulling off each shoe in turn. Socks come next then pants and finally she slides those tight white shorts down his legs. Stepping out of his boxers he strips off his shirt and stands naked in front of her, hips thrusting out proudly.
“Your turn,” he says, his voice thick with sex.
Standing, she looks him in the eye, a smile of delight on her face, and with his hands on her waist he’s about to push her against the wall when there’s a knock at the door. Ellie answers, but notices that John does nothing to hide himself as the waiter wheels in the trolley. It’s another thing she adores about him -- another thing that separates him from every other man she’s ever known.
Finding his wallet he tips the guy a fifty and Ellie notices that there’s a large amount of cash in there. John Casey is more than an enigma.
Once the room service waiter leaves, John pops the cork on the champagne and then pours them both a glass. He’s comfortable with this kind of life style, Ellie’s comfortable with him, and when he presses her back against the wall, kneeling and peppering kisses over her bare thighs, she sips her drink and smiles with delight as he lifts her dress.
It should be over as soon as his lips make contact but he’s so gentle, so practiced, that he leaves her hanging on the point of climax for an age. Tugging her panties down until they fall around her ankles, he eases a finger inside her a fraction of an inch at a time then touches her with his lips and the tip of his tongue.
“Do you want to come now?” he asks.
It’s the most considerate question a lover has ever asked her. Most men are either intent on getting themselves off or getting her off speedily for pride’s sake. No one has ever asked her how she likes it. “Please,” she replies. She loves to come and come again. Her body is attuned to multiple orgasm.
Slipping a second finger inside her pussy he licks harder, teasing her clit with his tongue and then sucking hard until she rides his face, working off her first delicious orgasm of the evening.
It’s as good as she knew it would be.
*
Casey could eat Ellie Bartowski all night. It’s not just that she tastes good, it’s the way she unashamedly enjoys every swipe of his tongue. He’s never met a woman like her before.
Pulling her dress off she stands there in nothing but a pair of high-heeled sandals, flushed from coming and ready for more as she eyes up his stiff cock with wild, excited eyes.
“Bed,” he suggests, his knees buckling from longing.
“Sounds good,” she answers, pressing up against his naked, aroused body and for the first time ever they kiss. It’s more than exciting to taste himself on her tongue and Casey dives in deeper, clasping an arm around her narrow waist and pulling her close as he explores every cock-scented inch of her mouth.
They tumble onto the mattress and for a moment Casey loses his composure, he’s a fraction away from giving in to his male instincts, falling into the customary missionary position and taking her in an uncontrolled frenzy. But they both deserve more than that.
Unwrapping a condom he slides it on to his cock and then, sitting on the bed with legs spread, he pulls her into position, resting close to him, her thighs covering his. It’s heaven to sit together naked like this, but anticipation zings through him and his erection pulses from an intense longing to be inside her.
He moves a little, letting the head of his cock come to rest against the entrance to her pussy then with a wet index finger he circles her clit.
Hips jerking she rubs up against him like a cat. “Fuck me, John,” she says. “I need your cock in me.”
*
Ellie can’t believe she’s said those words. She’s never felt able to be direct about her desires and yet, even with this gorgeous man resting up against her, teasing her with his finger, she’s comfortable enough to tell him exactly what she wants.
Shifting a little John begins to ease his cock inside her and Ellie gasps at the sensation. He’s about the same length as Devon but much thicker and she stretches to accommodate him.
“Oh god!”
“Okay?” he asks, stilling for a moment.
“Perfect,” she answers with an accompanying sigh.
In this position she can see everything, can watch as he penetrates her slowly with his prick and she’s never felt so in tune with sex. There’s almost a mental detachment and she thinks it’s because he’s so very calm with her. She feels no demands.
“More,” she begs, reaching down and fondling his balls, then touching the rim of her pussy she experiences the sensation as he pushes inside her once more.
John begins to fuck her, slowly at first and then with increasing pace, and with one hand supporting her she runs the other over his belly and chest, pinching his nipples and stroking the pelt of hair. She loves his body so much, from his shaped legs and muscled body to his big thick cock and that dense covering of hair.
“Ride me,” he groans and she’s more than willing to oblige.
He collapses back and she crawls over him, stroking his rubber-covered cock then straddling him and sinking down onto him. His blue eyes open as wide as she’s ever seen them.
*
He’s going to come. He’s going to come now and no ancient methods of sexual control are going to help him. It’s too soon. He wants to make Ellie come when he’s fucking her, but the sight of her sidling up him like a cat and then dropping down and taking his erect cock inside her is too much.
Reaching for her breasts he kneads them with cupped hands whilst trying to think of anything but how amazing she is -- ‘awesome’ her boyfriend would say. The thought of Devon is a heaven sent blessing, cooling him off enough to be able to buck up hard.
*
John’s so thick, so very big, but it’s not just his cock that brings her to the precipice of orgasm. It’s his expression that gets Ellie off again -- gets her arching and squeezing and riding him hard until she’s screaming out loud. She knows when he comes. She can see it in those dilated eyes that sizzle with excitement.
Climbing off him she lies back on the bed, watching as he removes the condom then strides into the bathroom to dispose of it. There’s something inherently beautiful about the way he moves, so easy, graceful and her fascination grows as once again she compares him to her fiancé.
Ellie’s been with Devon for so long now he’s become a habit more than a love affair. Maybe it's naïve of her to fall for an infatuation, but John Casey seems a far more appealing prospect, despite the fact that he works a mundane job in an electrical store.
“Champagne?” he asks.
Nodding, Ellie takes the glass and rolls onto her side and when he lies next to her she reaches out a hand and strokes his belly.
“I don’t know you, John,” she says. “But I’d like to.”
*
No one knows Casey. That’s how it's always been and how it's always supposed to be and it’s a shock when he realises how much he reciprocates Ellie’s feelings.
Sliding an arm under her he tugs hard until she’s lying on his chest, laughing as the champagne pours over them both.
“Bully.” Her eyes light up with fun.
“Clean up time.” Casey wrestles Ellie onto her back, leaning over her then diving down and licking spilt wine off her breasts.
“John, stop it. I know what you’re doing.”
And she might well do but as he tongues each of her nipples in turn, his hand wandering down her body and rubbing lazy circles on her clit, she’s soon forgotten. Kissing her, he finds himself wishing that things were different. It’s not often that he wants more than a fuck -- he’s been so wrapped up thinking about having Ellie that he’s never once considered there might be consequences. That he may want her more than ever afterwards.
*
This time they linger over sex, neither of them wanting to reach orgasm. The slow thrust of bodies has Ellie floating, dizzy from vertigo, and she clings onto John as if she’s afraid of falling. Maybe she is. Maybe it’s too late.
“I have to go soon,” she says later when they’re lying exhausted on the bed, wrapped up together, fingers tangling relentlessly.
“I know.”
Ellie doesn’t want to think about the practicalities of life but she has no choice. People depend on her at work and at home. “Is this it for us, John?” she asks, leaning up on an elbow and gazing down at him. She needs to know.
“It has to be,” he answers, but he can’t quite meet her eyes.
“But is it?” She tries to imagine having John living so near and not being able to touch him.
“No, it's not over." God no. His words, his thoughts are interspersed with kisses -- deeper, darker dangerous kisses that are full of feelings. God help them both, but, no, this isn't the end. It's just the beginning.
DONE