Talia p. 2

Talia thought it was best that her hired tour guide was rendered speechless.  Listening to him speak was incredible, his thick accent making everything he said sound poetic.  She leaned in, as instructed, and enjoyed the feel of his body as he righted the bike and fired the engine.

She reflexively gripped him tighter as he put the bike in gear and easily wove into traffic.

She was not expecting the roar of the engine to torture her lady parts in this way.  She was a bit afraid when the pulled in front of a neat little coffee shop that she might leave her pussy juices all over the seat of his bike, clear evidence that Dr. Jones had set aside all professionalism for the day.

When they arrived at the shop, Talia was surprised to see that the barista was actually a fifty year old woman with slightly graying hair but with eyes so vividly blue they made her entire body sparkle with life.  Talia had been to London more than once, but this is the first time she allowed herself to simply notice the things around her, and the number of blue eyes in this city was the first thing to impress her.

And Finnegan had obviously impressed this barista.  She came around the register to give him a jovial hug, and he introduced Talia as “Fiona’s best friend, Talia Jo.”  This seemed to impress the barista even further, and she immediately wrapped Talia in a bear hug.

“My dear Fi, I love her so.  She is coming over for dinner tonight.  You should join us!”

This is not what Talia had expected what so ever.  She was on an island thousands of miles from home and was just invited into someone’s home, their sanctuary, to share a home cooked meal.  It sounded amazing, but it was her birthday, and she had many things to do today.

“I’m sorry, but we really have to get going.  We have much planned for today.  Maybe another time?” Talia finished, honestly.  Getting to know the people that loved Fiona sounded fantastic, but she had really wanted to tour the countryside.  She looked at Finnegan, hoping to enlist his help.

“Yes, Mom, we are very busy.  Many things to do today, so can we just grab our coffees to go, please?” he drawled out.

His Mom?!?  He could have mentioned that a bit sooner!  That explained the blue eye relationship!

Talia wasn’t sure the social protocol when Finnegan’s mother wouldn’t take payment for the coffee saying. “A friend of Fi’s is a friend of mine.  No charge.  Have a great day, being busy and all ” she said with a friendly wink.

Well, shit.  She meant to simply give thanks, but ended up sputtering out, ‘Thanks, Mom,” turned on her heel and made way to the door.

Finnegan caught up with her a few steps down the street.  “You move so quickly.  First you spread your legs before I could even introduce you to my parents, and then you call my mother “Mom” before the first cup of coffee.  I’m not sure I can keep up,” he added, jokingly.

“Not many people can.  I tend to leave most in the dust” she sputtered out.  Another true statement.  One she would have normally kept to herself.  She wasn’t sure if she was warning him or warning herself.

~~~

Talia Jo kept him on his toes.  There was no telling which way she was going to go, but he loved being challenged.  She wasn’t groveling, begging, or mindlessly doing as he asked, something he had become accustomed to in the upper circles he now frequented.

It barely took a few of his strides to catch her petite steps.  He caught her elbow and directed her to a nearby outdoor patio.  He pulled the chair for her and they sat to sip their coffee together in silence for a moment.

He studied her.  Her long brunette hair was slightly windblown and splayed across her chest in an incredibly erotic fashion.  Her full painted lips pressed to the coffee cup and then bounced back to life.  Her hazel eyes nearly matched the deep brown of her coffee, yet the amber flecks gave her life.

Her tits were covered, but her breasts begged to be freed from their laced up binds.  Her ample bosom was a sharp contrast to her sharp hourglass figure, tapering down to hips meant to be held.  Her pert behind sat deftly in the chair, and he longed to feel her thighs with his hands.  He wanted to run them up and down her jeans, sneak his thumbs through the holes, and rip his way to her core.

When his eyes returned to hers, he noticed the fire the amber had created.  She had caught his looking but hadn’t interrupted him.

She gave him a coy smile, “Like what you see?”

“Yep.  But I also know I’d like what I don’t see.”

Her lips curved up in a genuinely seductive smile.  “Well, if it’s of any difference, the parts you don’t see definitely like you, too.”

He felt his cock throb.  This was going to be a long eleven hours.

The seductive sheet was pulled and she sat up prim and proper to inquire about things to be seen in the city, since we were here and all.

He began his tour guide duties of describing local attractions and lesser known gems of the city.  Talia had placed her elbows on the table, with her free hand relaxed on her shoulder.  The more he described, the lower her hand fell.  Soon she was circling her tit, but in a way only he could see.  No other passerby’s would have a clue that her mind was clearly not concentrating on the real Big Ben or London Eye.

Soon her hand dipped below the table and only his imagination could conjure up what she was doing.  When he paused speaking, her hand paused.  He was certain she wasn’t hearing a word he had said, so he began reciting the alphabet, slowly.

“…l, m, n…”

Finally her head jerked up and her eyes opened wide, reality setting in.

“Were you just reciting the alphabet?!?” she asked with an accusatory tone.

“Yep.”

That produced a laugh from her, one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard.

“With a voice like that I can only assume that you are a phone sex operator” she said between giggles.  “I know I’d pay!” she said as she stood.

Her joke implied she had no idea who he was, and he kind of liked the anonymity.  She wasn’t crawling into his bed hoping for his pocketbook, she would be crawling into his bed because she had been struck by his pied piper, calling to her with his voice instead of the flute.  The though inflated his ego, but also pulled at some heart string.

He stood to follow her back to his bike.  “I still have no idea where you’d like to go.”

“How about I choose now, and you choose later?”

He acquiesced and once again allowed her to mount his bike.

“An open air market, please,” she announced, and off they went to the Borough Market.

 

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