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Sorcha and the Mixed-Up Trousers

by Heather Kinnane 8 months ago in fiction

Sorcha’s dry cleaner accidentally gave her the wrong pants, but when she meets their real owner she’s more than happy to let him in hers.

Sorcha and the Mixed-Up Trousers
Photo by Charly Pn on Unsplash


Sorcha glanced at the clock and frowned. Nine pm. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and why would someone come to her door this late at night.

Peering through the keyhole she was a smartly dressed man, his beard trimmed close to his jaw, a mop of curly dark hair on his head.


Intrigued, Sorcha opened the door. A cold breeze tickled her ankles, and she realised it was raining ever so slightly.

“Can I help you?”

His gaze roamed over her body, and when it finally returned to her face his was flushed.

“Sorry, I’m looking for ‘S Belton’.”

“That’s me.”

“Oh. Okay.” He seemed tongue-tied.

“What can I do for you?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, I was expecting a young man.”

Sorcha raised an eyebrow, but then he held out a bag. She had one identical in her lounge room — dry cleaning she hadn’t yet unpacked.

“Look, there seems to have been some sort of mix up. It’s my brother’s wedding tomorrow, and I had to get my pants cleaned, and well, I seem to have ended up with yours.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And why would they have given you my trousers, or my address for that matter?”

“I’m also S Belton. Sam is my name.” His face flushed. “And they didn’t give me your address. I didn’t realise until after they’d closed for the day. I’d wait until tomorrow but I’m supposed to leave at 6 am. I’ve been through all the S Belton’s in this area, and you’re my last hope. Please tell me you’ve got my trousers.”

Sorcha sighed. “Let me check.”

She closed the door and wandered back to the lounge to empty the dry cleaning bag. Sure enough there were a pair of pants at least one size too big. She carried them back to the door.

“These are yours?”

His eyes lit up, just as a flash of lightning lit up the yard and the rain came pelting down.

She opened her day and waved him in.

“Come inside, at least till the rain calms down.”

He followed her in, grateful for the reprieve from the cold.

She took her bag from him, noticing now the dark patches on his jacket. “You’re wet. How long have you been standing out there?”

“I walked from the last place.” He shrugged. “It was only a couple of blocks, and I couldn’t really afford to keep the taxi waiting any longer. I figured I’d walk home — I’m only a few blocks away. I didn’t count on it raining though.”

“No.” For the first time Sorcha was grateful for the plastic bags the dry cleaners insisted on using, at least her trousers would be fine.

“Let me take your jacket, we can hang it to dry by the heater.”

She made them a cup of hot chocolate each.

They talked about work, siblings, weddings. He was sweet. Kind, and funny, and Sorcha couldn’t deny it, incredibly sexy.

“So, no chance we could be related?” She forced a laugh, to show she was joking, even though she was only half worried about it. A one night stand with someone who shared her name was fine, wasn’t it? Even if they were distant cousins several times removed?

She dismissed the idea. He was probably already taken.

“Well, my grandparents came from Scotland when my Da was a boy, so… maybe?” He gave her a wry grin.

She laughed, for real this time. “My mum has done both her and Dad’s family trees, right back. Dad’s side have been here for generations, so if we are related, it’s a long way back.”

“Phew.” He wiped the back of his hand across his brow. “And here I was worrying I was about to proposition a long lost cousin.”

Sorcha leaned closer. ”Were you now?”

“Would it be too forward of me, if I were?” His voice was low and husky, sending a shiver up Sorcha’s spine.

“Not at all.” Her gaze held his and he leaned forward until their lips met, his hand coming to rest on her knee.

She slid a hand around the back of his neck, kissing him deeper as she spread her legs.

He shifted a little, his hand sliding between her thighs, his thumb stroking her pussy through the silky fabric of her knickers.

“Let’s go somewhere a little more comfortable.” She took his hand and led him to the bedroom, where they made short work of removing each other’s clothes, as they kissed and caressed each other’s bodies.

Sam nuzzled between Sorcha’s thighs, his tongue brushing her clit and making her whole body jolt.

He kissed her thoroughly, before sliding his fingers into her pussy, continuing his onslaught until an orgasm tore through her and left her limp and panting on the bed.

When she’d regained her breath she pushed him over, his teeth grazing his foreskin ever so gently, desire spiralling again when a shudder passed through his body and he groaned in pleasure.

She licked him, rolling his balls between her fingers as she took his cock in her mouth, gentle sucking on him as she bobbed up and down.

He moaned, and she glanced up to see him watching her, his pupils dilated.

“I almost don’t want you to stop.” He gasped, and she relaxed her throat to take him as deep as she possibly could. “But if you don’t…” He groaned again. “I’ll come. And I’d really like to fuck you.” He sucked in another breath. “If you want to.”

She bobbed up and down again, then released him, stroking him a couple of times as she slid her way up his body. She kissed him, reaching across to her bedside table as she did so, fumbling about in the drawer for a condom.

When she found one she pulled back, watching him watch her.

She rolled the condom over his hard on, then positioned herself so she was above him.

“Are you going to last?”

He grinned. “I’ll bring you to orgasm again, don’t you worry about that.”

He flipped her over, sucking a nipple into his mouth as he plunged deep inside.

His thumb found her clit, and she clung to him, as his mouth and thumb and cock brought her wave after wave of pleasure. Her hips bucked, her back arched, and she screamed his name as she came once more, her thrusts meeting his in speed and depth as he held her gaze, grunting as he came.

They collapsed onto the bed, and she closed her eyes, panting from the exertion.

He pushed himself up on one elbow, kissing the side of her breast. “I don’t know about you, but I am so glad the dry cleaners mixed up our pants.”

She met his gaze, laughter bubbling up from inside. “Me too.” She reached out to hod his cheek, leaning in for a kiss.

“If you’re up for it, we could meet again, sometime?”

His eyes sparkled. “I don’t suppose you have any plans for the next couple of days? It’s just that I sort of told my family I was bringing someone, and if I turn up alone they have friends they’re going to try and hook me up with, and I’d really rather not go through any of that.”

She searched his face. She didn’t usually do anything so spontaneous, but she was free for the next two days, and she felt a strange twinge of jealousy at the thought of Sam meeting up with other women.

“Sure,” she said. “I’d love to.”


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About the author

Heather Kinnane

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

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