[ A short story inspired by the novel. The content may be inconsistent with the themes of Pappus and Sonder. If you have read the novel, you know that one of Coral's failed relationships was with Simon. In the novel, after Granville, Coral smokes. It is not included here. Her smoking became a story addition with re-writing.]
Coral had been dating Simon for two months.
She hadn't screwed in those two months.
Coral believed in dating etiquette. She wasn't French Kissing on night one. In fact, it took three dates for a male admirer to get her cheek.
Coral Pearson was so eye-catching and gorgeous that males were sucked into her waiting game.
At thirty, she appeared primed and accessible.
But these admirers had never heard of the name — Josh. If they had, they might have fished for pussy elsewhere.
Ah, Coral and lost love!
It was a story worthy of a novel.
But of no interest to guys wanting the golden-haired girl's dress removed.
Simon and Coral were at a celebration dinner. Simon had that expected promotion at work. He was feeling delighted with life. A recent new sports car, a gorgeous girlfriend— on his arm— and the salary raise and new responsibilities at work; yes, good things always came in threes.
Coral was looking her scrumptious delectable stylish self. She was an eye-pleaser if a perpetual cock-teaser.
However, getting out of the taxi at the restaurant, she opened her clutch purse and showed Simon a condom.
She was ready.
Our honeybun wore an apple green dress, which only she could pull off; Simon was sure — he would pull it off later.
Coral had the panache and the élan, purely through the flamboyant, showy golden tresses that really made Coral, well, Coral.
Simon was in male dreamland —imagining the field of Californian poppy pubes between her thighs.
Finally, happy the wait was over— well, he always screwed girls on first dates. His fetish was labia.
Girly private pleats, yes, simple enough to understand and picture as pieces of flesh. But they curved, twisted and curled in on themselves, those creased and tattered folds that were endlessly different for every girl.
Labia, by definition, reflected Simon was craggy, uneven and wrinkled in their paired irregular, unbalanced arrangement.
Yet never disappointing in their compelling, alluring and totally personal aspect of female attraction.
Simon lusted after their intrinsic personified beauty, marvelling as an architect that they defied and would forever flout the golden ratio's supposed aesthetics.
Labia were always perfect in themselves.
Uniqueness is the completeness of every pussy.
As he drank a quality Chardonnay, he reflected on how hard being a stud was.
He was upwardly mobile, professional, successful, good-looking, well hung and with a new Ferrari. He naturally attracted women and was well: sorry to the rest of you struggling out there, without even trying, he was a natural pussy magnet and once women had his boxers down, the 'ohs' and 'ah my goodness, it's huge' were typical reactions.
Coral was in for a treat after dessert tonight.
Simon should have been concentrating on Coral, seated opposite him.
Still, that instant attraction tingle occurred when their table waitress gave them the pre-dinner wine menu in Il Piacere, the family restaurant belonging to Ruby's parents.
Simon thought name tags, along with the pill and the G-string, were one of the greatest inventions of all time — for guys.
He didn't have to wonder who this cute chick was all night; she was Kimberley.
A brunette with longish hair tied back in a ponytail, cheeky, lively blue eyes and kissable lips for sure. Shapely breasts that matched her slender figure and her arse — it was the heart butt — the classic oval booty.
He couldn't, as an architect himself, have designed a better, more impressive butt. This was fantastic booty.
A butt that made him instantly think, I must spread those cheeks.
Kimberley was clearly over twenty. The slim waistline created the heart bum, and experience told Simon it led naturally to G-strings and Brazilians.
Simon really liked Coral's bubble butt; peachy came to mind.
He was male. He liked any young arse in immediate view.
Careful thought Simon, Coral will bitch if your eyes stray too far tonight.
We are here as a pair celebrating you, Simon — he didn't want Coral turning into a nagger like his mother.
He was, however, sampling more of Kimberley in his mind than he was of the quality wine being proffered.
The waitress had deliberately touched thigh to thigh while pouring his taste sample.
Touch, even through clothes, has a sensual triggering mechanism between two people — in all sorts of inappropriate locations.
When you suspect desire is mutual, shit, it's electric.
Here, it was happening directly opposite the stunning Coral.
Why were so many women so God damn tempting, thought Simon?
If the restaurant setting had been a private orgy, he would have dogged Coral on the table instantly while feeling up Kimberly from behind, between those sweet butt cheeks, getting to the heart of her femininity, then spreading her legs wide on the table — as the cutlery, dinner service, arranged flowers in their vase and the elegant matching salt and pepper dispensers went clattering and smashing to the floor as their cameo of carnality joined every other table in the venue.
Not bad, thought Simon, for just another random mindless, unfillable male fantasy.
Kimberley returned to their table to take their meal order; "Might I suggest our Seafood Antipasto or the Roasted Vegetables with cheese? Both are appetite complimentary, designed to please."
Simon knew what would please his appetite — Kimberley—he wanted her in three courses.
Breasts for entrée, we all love some foreplay.
Spread pussy for main.
Her ripe fresh— hopefully virgin arse — for dessert.
He would take Coral home as a second helping.
He was thoroughly enjoying the direction of this fantasy and was about to —when—
"Simon, she has asked three times— what you want —where are you?"
Coral did sound like his mother occasionally.
Maybe there was some truth in that scary thought that you ended up with a woman like your mother, dating a younger version of her.
Not physically, no Coral was stunning with her Goldilocks hair.
It was her manner, occasionally, that alarmed him.
"Whatever you suggest is fine, Coral," said Simon.
While Coral ordered for both of them, looking intently at the menu —Simon and Kimberly' made eyes' at each other, with Kimberly's eyes then guiding Simon's eyes across the room to the unisex toilets sign on the far right.
Simon just gave a knowing smile.
Kim gave 'the look' back.
She knew he was intelligent; she just didn't know how well-hung he was —she hoped— big.
Simon as a man, had an unfair advantage; he knew what he was getting already; great arse, it was there, and no tight-fitting black work skirt could hide it. It could only accentuate her rear.
One of his work colleagues, in a joke, had recently referred to fem-arse as the 'business class entry'; Simon had already upgraded this arse to first class.
The couple shared the palette-tempting seafood antipasto.
It was exceptional.
Coral was pleasantly surprised when she saw Ruby, her girlfriend, come out of the kitchen prep area and over to her table carrying a bottle of wine.
"Hi honey —how was that —put it together myself —for you— and here —have this bottle — on me."
Ruby placed a quality Semillon Blanc on the table.
"Yum, great. Thanks, Ruby. I haven't seen you about much since that wedding reception at the surf club."
"We should catch up soon —share —have lunch together."
Nothing salacious in her tone.
[Ruby and Coral had history and private girly intimacies from senior college.]
"Cute boyfriend, Coral," she genuinely meant it as she headed back to the kitchen.
"She's got some quality —something beyond that pixie face —but I can't tell if it's a positive or negative trait, "said Simon directly to Coral.
And to himself, 'Shit… what an alluring cute face —fuck —what a body on that babe, one hot total package — like a beautifully proportioned classically retained facade on a new building project —but the inner woman…'
Even Simon's usually undemanding covetous approach to any good-looking woman —was sounding a warning —on this one — Ruby was like one of Odysseus' Sirens.
"Yes, Ruby's awesome and complicated, but lots of fun too."
Coral had many ambivalent feelings but was willing to catch up with her friend soon.
Coral ordered a fettuccine infused with appealing spices, richly creamy and textured by flavoursome chicken and shrimp pieces for the main course.
Simon had what Coral ordered for him— his favourite spaghetti with garlic mushrooms.
It was a regional, authentic and family-inspired taste sensation. Sweet and uncomplicated, but the supple pervading underlying herbs made it mouth-watering.
Still, he had a more literal lip-smacking treat in the toilets to look forward to, and it was time to start nibbling.
Coral had started her main course when Simon excused himself to the 'little boys' room.
He was in, easy enough, thinking, what if Coral sees her follow me in.
She will come over, and it won't be a threesome.
However, as he spun to shut the door, Kimberley grabbed him by his green tie and shirt collar, pushed the door shut with her other hand, had her tongue in his mouth and then, just as speedily, his zip was down, and his meat hanging.
Kim wanted to know what she worked with in the next several minutes.
"Oh, God, it's huge," Kim said, surprised.
Simon was just smug, the lucky oversized bastard.
Whatever creates random attraction doesn't stay random when the action begins. Bits of clothing stayed on but were shabby and flapping.
The excitement bits were all out and being groped.
Kim felt the growth, even with both her hands joining the process. Her hands were full. Still, she wasn't overwhelmed.
She was a contemporary girl who understood where her own clit was and what it deserved both from her and others when they were privileged to be in the immediate vicinity. She knew too how her booty was sexually refined and defining, a cock magnet in its own right.
The unisex toilets were much more extensive than toilets, like a bathroom space. They had handle rails for the infirm and elderly. Very handy for a toilet shag too. Very European, though, with super clear large mirrors. A bidet, tiled walls and tiled floor; very chic and completed with a stylish basin, granite countertops and quality accessories like brand-name hand washes.
The prospect of splashing jizz all over the place was slightly disrespectful, thought the designer in Simon as his cock was massaged quickly to its formidable dimension.
He hoped Kimberley wasn't a squirter. A gusher could be embarrassing here; still, if she had the capacity, it would be awesome to see.
Simon hadn't experienced a gusher and was always looking for it.
Rapid full-throttle kissing and brisk welcomed breast fondling, with her tits poking out above her black lacey bra; then erect nipples signalled to Simon; Kimberley was receptive to the next stage of his plan.
It was the architect in him, and Kimberley was his current project.
The erection bit was already in place; Simon just needed to move into the creative space, her vacant lot, and let his Artful Dodger loose on her receptive pussy.
He slid her black panties down around her knees, spun her around, flipped up her black skirt, and took in her oval booty, so smooth, rounded and supple flesh.
He could have squeezed here all night, but time wasn't on his side right now.
Coral was waiting.
His cock wasn't waiting for anything; it was already rubbing and nuzzling around Kim's sopping glossy coochie.
Simon took the back view quickly: she was one of those girls who was neither fully hirsute nor closely shaved, silky manicured. Just a pubic patch, neither here nor there, a strange bit of cropped hair just above her hood –not shaped –just there –like she was undecided about how to present herself –odd because she was all presentation with her labia right now, they were the focus.
Stunningly unusual, yet labia always are a surprise packet.
Kim's were like a new-fangled Cathedral sketch pushing known design limits. Her lips were nearly too cute, shaped like a crucifix. The apex was her hood, then two delicate petite wings and sweetly but sharply tapering to very narrow slits of flesh by the base of her opening.
Kimberley was expecting to be dogged; she just sensed this was Simon when she saw him at the table. She knew how to present her body to the man behind her.
She raised one leg and placed it on the toilet. Simon was impressed; he had the full view of her stretched opening, and his pounding cock doing what it did best — started long, teasing, deep thrusting.
Simon also got to rim her cornhole, and she was enjoying that. She had to cover her mouth to suppress her growing 'mmm's' of pleasure.
Simon liked Kim's pussy; it was shapely, wet, fulsome and tight.
The Goldilocks just right tensile hold, just right, for now, sweet fucking.
There seemed something inappropriate, thinking Goldilocks, but Simon was too busy fucking to sort that one out.
She was bent over, supporting her weight by holding the cistern, one foot on the bowl. Kim knew she was giving him the view, and he appreciated her effort. She was equally excited by that; she got wetter, and he pumped harder.
Mutual input for mutual reward — is simple — a tried, tested and successful formula.
The physical connection was established, his penis and her vagina.
The pleasure connection was built by the pushing of her buttocks backwards against his thrusting and meeting the hardness of his pubic area against her soft bottom.
There was just the repeated pleasurable satisfaction of thrust after fucking thrust in her wet hole.
She felt the lubrication, she felt his hardness, and she felt the moment sweeping through her, growing in intensity. Every thrust was sweetness defined, light yet hard, defined in delight yet undefined in potential carnal rapture. The pace quickening, then relaxing, slowed, and was all edifying luxuriance.
The sweet, sweet pleasure of self was being pleasured.
The craving of the moment, just wanting endless thrusting, the measured sameness anticipated, the regular power strokes, greedy delight in each one.
Then the unanticipated variation, a slower, deeper thrust, held at the edge, tantalising close to leaving her pussy vacant, an unacceptable proposition, 'stay, stay' was the thought.
Then deeper again, pausing deep, her whole mound feeling fullness and shape, defined as a woman, the feminine wonder of holding within your flesh.
Kimberly couldn't help herself and, despite the danger, started whispering, "Fuck my pussy… yes…fuck me… harder."
Simon, not having heard a woman articulate sexual desire so explicitly before, was turned on; his control was waning fast. He thrust with increased vigour, long, hard and fast.
The control tempo was gone now; he was headed in one direction.
Kimberly was racing there, her body either ahead or just behind him.
The unknown vagaries of attempted mutual orgasm were in play. Both were experienced enough and probably could hold and shape absolute sync explosions.
However, with the sheer intensity at the moment, the overwhelming need of self kicks in; this is for you first, ensure your own orgasm; too much thinking, and it may be an opportunity missed.
There was too much individual excitement here.
Kimberly pushed her butt cheeks back firmly into Simon, both hands now gripping the edge of the cistern; the waves of rippling pulsating pleasure were reaching a crescendo, and then the contentment beyond any other pleasure in life, as she knew she would fully orgasm from this sexual encounter.
Not just have great sex, which was always fine too.
Maybe it was the excitement of the position, being dogged in a loo.
Perhaps it was the sinful thrill that his girlfriend was sitting metres away at a table, sipping wine and waiting.
Maybe it was the simple, pleasurable friction, two young bodies locked in sexual motion, nature's counterpoise of male and female, nothing more.
A huge cock, she decided, was probably the main reason for a welling, growing, fast-approaching super orgasm.
Her sexual concupiscence, the basic 'hots' was covetous for sustaining their gyrating genital greed as climax came to Kimberley like the effervescent fizzing bubbles in a carbonated drink, the equivalent to the rapid sparkling dispensation of mixed air and liquid as it tantalises your tongue and fizzy floats up your nose, and bubbles explode and cluster and separate in the same instance before your very eyes.
Here, the body's chemical messages tantalise within, bubbly and sparkly. Intensely vivacious, frothy and scintillating, fermenting mental delight from the mix of two bodies, the powerful hard cock thrusting and the gentle moist holding caress of a pussy.
Flesh to flesh, irrepressible and zingy, holding the apex of pleasure in a single instance, and then splashing in waves through Kimberly's body like a diver, hard and direct, plunging from the tower, straight to a perfect score.
Then, the rippling after waves through the water, ego-enriched delight as a chemical surge went splattering uncontrollably through her body like scattered happy confetti at a wedding, in every possible direction.
It went through Kimberley's heart, mind, soul and her centre of feminine welling, her womb and then bursting in her chest and quivering in her thighs.
Culminating in several searing stabbing spasms of pleasure, in spiky spreading delight from the rapturously intense, then lulling into drifting lingering pulses of purry satisfied carnal contentment that impregnated every erogenous recess of her bodily frame.
Simon had a full, satisfying regular male orgasm, spurting happily into a frenzied, excited, moaning Kimberley.
It was undoubtedly sex worth remembering. It was exciting, dangerous and different. A male can ask for no more.
Coral was thinking, where the heck was Simon?
He would reappear for dessert.
Simon had already had dessert.
Her boyfriend had that look on his face as he returned to their table; he had either completed that necessary overdue waste dump or had had sex.
Coral dismissed the second option.
Surely not here, and anyway, with whom?
For a second, she thought: Ruby, but dismissed it.
"That waitress is slightly tardy, "said Coral, who had finished her main course a couple of minutes ago. "Isn't it time we had dessert, Simon?"
"Yes, I'm really looking forward to it," — he saw Kim make her exit from the loo.
"I'm sure it will be here soon."
Dessert did come, if a tad late.
"Cassata for two, enjoy —" followed as Kim cleared items from their table —
"Can I put your leftovers in a container for later, Sir," she asked very formally from Kimberly, indicating his plate of unfinished spaghetti.
"Yes," said Coral on his behalf.
As Kimberley's butt was moving away again, Simon looked at it slightly differently than he had earlier in the evening.
And for too long.
Coral noticed his interest, and his new tie, a present, wasn't straight.
"It is cute," her comment caught Simon off guard.
She saw him squirm.
"It's okay to say so — lush booty is sweet booty, Simon."
"You think so — Coral —do girls look at each other's butts?"
"Yes, Simon…we appreciate flesh architecture too," said Coral with a smirk.
"Eat up —I have a surprise for you at my place."
Simon took some pleasure from his dessert, but his taste buds weren't really into it.
He was preoccupied like a toilet with the engaged sign-up.
Strange to think, thought Simon, as Kim cleared their table, what they had been doing just minutes ago.
Yet here she was, focused only on her job. It was like she had discovered what she needed to uncover. She kept her eyes to herself, her hands to herself and by the looks of it, her mind to herself.
However, as she walked away, she gave a slight booty waggle to Simon because Coral went to pay the bill — her treat for Simon's promotion.
Simon thought, Kim, whose pubes were so trim, why had the tidy girl left one crumpled napkin on the table?
A bit slack.
Simon, absent-minded, picked it up, and it fell open; a phone number was in the corner.
Nice.
He glanced around the restaurant as he placed the napkin in his pant pocket.
Kimberley gave him a smile as she sauntered back with some loaded plates for other diners.
Simon was rapt in anticipation — the unknown future— but a certain assignation.
Kim returned with his leftovers in a disposable food container. "Your doggy bag, Sir," and laughed.
Then, there was Coral's smile returning across the room.
Damn, he would need to call on reserve manpower later in the evening to satisfy Coral's expectations.
A guy's reputation as 'the player', the ability to get it up and keep it up two or three times in a long night session of passion, was on the line here.
He knew he had his work cut out after depositing in Kim.
Coral straightened his tie, and they got ready to go.
Simon exited the restaurant thinking — Coral is too like my mother.
Whatever sexual antics flourished around Coral's pussy tonight, it wasn't going to be doggy, Simon knew that much.
He was already thinking of sculpting Kim's pucker hole.
Coral left Il Piacere thinking she was shaping Simon's life into hers.
Kimberley was left with a content pussy that had been entirely shaped and the equally pleasurable thought; it would be again very soon.
She was confident Simon wanted more, and he struck her as a guy who always returned for a second helping.
While assisting in the kitchen, Ruby had seen too much of the evening antics — two go in the loo — and was looking forward to sharing some unwelcome gossip with Coral — very soon.