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Love During Lockdown

by Heather Kinnane 9 months ago in fiction

My timing couldn’t have been worse. Or perhaps it couldn’t have been better?

My timing couldn’t have been worse.

I moved into the share house a fortnight before lockdown. It wasn’t my first choice, hell, it wasn’t even my fifth, but it was within walking distance to my new job, and it was cheaper than anything else I’d found.

Adrian seemed nice enough, but the fact his flat mates were all moving out at the same time didn’t give me much hope. They’d all finished Uni, found jobs elsewhere. Only Adrian had found work in the city, was able and willing to pay extra to take on one of the other bedrooms as a music room.

He kept to himself to start with. We’d cross paths in the kitchen, at the beginning and end of meals, or sometimes the bathroom, one of us waiting outside the door for the other to finish. That was another reason it was so cheap — there was only one.

We were on tenterhooks, sizing each other up, trying to decide if this was going to work.

Then the virus spread and the city got locked-down and it was just him, and me, and six weeks of sitting in my room, bored out of my brain.

If I’d known what was to come I would’ve moved home, shacked up in the old caravan on my parents farm. They still got out and about, in the garden, with the animals. No limit on where they could walk, or how long they could leave their home.

A week in Adrian knocked on my door. “Want to play a board game?” He held a battered old copy of Monopoly.

I grimaced. “Got anything else?”


I followed him to the lounge.

“There’s a whole cupboard of games people have left behind over the years.”

We played Battleship, Cluedo, Guess Who and Connect Four, that first day. He cooked tea while I set up a complicated looking game that involved ghosts and dreams and psychics, and I learnt two things. He was an amazing cook, and pretty useless at picking up clues from images.

We played Scrabble so many times letters swam behind my eyelids when I closed them, and Rummykin so often it was numbers swirling in the dark.

As the second week closed we fell to Monopoly, and after an entire boredom inducing, wasted day, we both realised neither of us could ever win.

Adrian threw it in the bin.

“Do you know any card games?”

After a few wines poker turned to strip poker, and I saw a side of Adrian he’d hid well, the toned chest and arms of a man who usually goes to the gym. He seemed scrawny in his work shirts, but it turned out he just wore a size too big. “They were free. Hand-me-downs at work from someone who’d brought too small.”

I won every round, but the thrill of seeing him down to his underwear, a decent-sized bulge, flopping against a leg, got me all excited, and I started to lose, deliberately.

“What happened to your winning streak?” His eyes shone as I slipped off my T-shirt, and dropped my track pants to the floor.

I only had on scruffy old knickers and a white cotton bra, but it was enough to make him lick his lips as his gaze roved over my body.

“So….” I grinned. “Who’s going to get naked first?”

He smirked. “I seem to be on to a winning streak here.”

I grinned, and won the next round. His cock was long and thick, and already half-erect.

I suggested we keep playing and deliberately lost the next round, unclasping my bra and letting the straps slide down my arms.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispered, his eyes wide.

“You like?” I cupped my breasts, gave them a little squeeze.

“I like.”

I removed my underwear and knelt over him on the couch, my knees straddling his thighs, the tip of his now erect cock brushing my clit.

“You want?” I asked, taking his hand and placing it over my breast.

His gaze met mine, his pupils dilated. “Are you sure?”

I pressed my lips against his, a zap shooting all the way to my groin at the soft brush of his kiss.

“I’m certain.” I was breathless already, anticipating what might come.

“Fuck me,” he whispered, and I obliged, lowering myself on his erection, bobbing up and down as I took him inside me.

“Damn.” I bit my lip, closing my eyes to focus on the sensations between my legs. It’d been so long since I’d had sex, and he filled me far more than anyone else ever had.

He cupped my breasts, tweaking my nipples before taking one in his mouth, sucking and circling and flicking with his tongue.

I put a hand between my legs, gripping his shoulder with the other to keep my balance. Pleasure shot up my spine, and I threw my head back, groaning as I bounced up and down on him.

He grabbed my arse, changing his position so he could thrust against me, and I gripped both his shoulders as I rode him to climax.

He pulled me of his cock as he came, his sticky white mess spurting up into the air to land on his stomach.

He swung me round, and laid me on the couch, kneeling between my legs to eat me out, bringing me the rest of the way to orgasm.

“Fuck.” I sank into the cushions as he wiped himself clean with his shirt. “That’s not where I saw this leading.”

He paused, glancing at me. “You wanted it though, right?”

“Oh yeah.” I grinned, reaching out to pull on his softening cock. “And after that experience, I’m going to want it again, and again, and again. If you’re keen, of course.”

A grin spread across his face. “I’m keen,” he said. “Don’t you worry about that.”

Perhaps my timing couldn’t have been better.


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Heather Kinnane

Author of bite-sized steamy romance and erotica. She/Her. For longer works check out my website:

Read next: The XXX Therapist!

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