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A Common Interest


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He cursed as the doorbell rang, glancing moodily at the clock. 10a.m.? None of his friends would call round at such an hour, that was certain. He toyed with the idea of ignoring it, but then .... mentally he tossed up the possibilities before wrenching himself from the bed with a sigh. He pulled on his boxer shorts, followed by his trusty chinos, tightening the belt to its final notch around his slim waist as he descended the stairs two at a time.

She stood on the doorstep. Rarely had she felt so nervous. It was only her second day in this awful job and by some unbelievable stroke of bad luck, she had come down with this damnable cold. It hadn’t been so dreadful yesterday. The sore throat had been miserable but at least it had been invisible. She could tell without having to look in a mirror that there had begun to be a reddish tinge about her nostrils. The idea of trying to sell anyone anything while feeling so much under the weather, let alone a holiday in the sun, was ridiculous. She could hear sounds now from behind the front door, the reverberations of bolts being drawn back. Quickly she gave her nose a last, surreptitious rub and resigned herself to the next few minutes of torture.

The door was stiff to open, dragging across the thick pile carpet of the hallway. It took a moment before he managed to haul it back far enough to reveal .... a very pretty girl standing on the doorstep. His mood lightened a little, only a very little, but enough to reduce his intended bark to a slower, rather supercilious drawl.

“Yers?” The single word struck her, its disdainful tone matching the scornful line of his nostrils as he looked down on her, the length of his already tall frame augmented by the doorstep upon which he stood. She quailed beneath his gaze, and began, rather stumblingly, to falter through the ludicrous spiel that she had learned in training last week. She could imagine him on the slopes of Klosters, or gracing the bow of a private yacht in Juan-les-Pins. As if he was going to have the slightest interest in a Spanish timeshare.

He could read upside down, almost as rapidly as if he were seeing the words from a normal perspective. The photograph of the villa looked shoddy, overstatedly bright to the point of tackiness and his lip began to curl. He contemplated taking the paper from her hands and ripping it in two to demonstrate his disdain but his concentration, which had been wandering far from the girl herself, was suddenly pulled back by something in her voice. He found his attention suddenly riveted on her words, waiting with a sudden and unexpected interest. And there it was again finally ... “Condobmidnium.”

She had thought at the beginning that he was going to order her away. She had seen the annoyance spread over his face as he caught sight of the paperwork she was clutching. And yet the longer she talked, the closer he seemed to be listening, paying her more and more attention as she spoke of condominiums and rental, points programmes and destinations. Perhaps she was going to do the impossible and make a sale in her first week. The words were flowing more easily now, and yet ... somehow the resonation of her voice, the reverberation of those nasal consonants, n and m were beginning to have an unwanted effect upon her already irritated nostrils. She raised her hand and gave her nose a brief rub.

He could see now, when he looked, that her nostrils had a definite reddish tinge and he felt a definite surge of excitement as she lifted her fist and pressed her finger against her nose for a second. He could see it then in her eyes, which had narrowed slightly, in her voice which had paused momentarily ... and then the moment was past and she was talking again. Oh that huskiness that was beginning to become more evident. A sound halfway between purr and growl rose into his throat as the words recirculated, condombinium, rendtal ... and then her eyes were narrowing again and her breathing stopped momentarily and this time she sniffled, a wet, irresistable, sound, a sound that for him seemed filled with promise.


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Yes please, I love your writing! :laugh: Although not fond of colds, I love to read things beautifully written. :)

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Yes please, I love your writing! :wub: Although not fond of colds, I love to read things beautifully written. :)

You could always pretend she had allergies and the man was a disdainful woman! :lol:

Thanks Chanel. :hug:

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for him seemed filled with promise.

This sums up my opinion on this story :) Of course I'd like to read more!

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Ah yes, that wonderful moment when an otherwise tedious encounter gives promise of marvels to come and you suddenly switch from trying to cut it short to desperately wanting to prolong it.

Beautifully described, and you have naughtily cut it off before the establishing sneeze. There's only one way to make amends....

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Goodness, so many comments. Hmm .... and nothing on offer excpet a little more torture....

Oh that teasing tickle. It had arrived early this morning and had been plaguing her ever since. It wouldn’t be so bad, she thought, if she could just sneeze and get it over with. Instead it lingered and threatened, as if there were tiny feathers, stuck high up right at the back of her nostrils, continually on the move and never stopping long enough in one place to give her the relief she was beginning to crave more than anything else. The feeling intensified once more, she could not control her breathing, an intake of breath and another and then ... nothing.

He was becoming utterly mesmerised, his eyes watching the irregular motion of her nostrils as their pinkish skin flared, once .... twice .... and then stopped again. God it was tantalising. He found his own breath measuring itself in time with hers. Her words were coming, their meaning lost ... but oh, that husky nasal tone, the slight flickering of her eyes that were filling with tears, so much so that they were close to overflowing, that breathless pause as her nose readied itself and he held his own breath an instant. And then ... oh ... gone again. Damn but he was enjoying the performance!

She was reaching the end of her speil. In a moment she was going to have to stop, to ask if he was interested. He still seemed to be listening closely. Normally in her (admittedly limited) experience, the door had been closed in her face by now. She finished up and began to ask him whether he would consider the offer but her nose was itching again. She gripped the clipboard in her left hand and lifted her right up, giving her nose a slight rub with her fingers. Her nose was undeniably damp and she sniffled again. The irritation built once more and her words faltered. “Do you thindk you mbight .... ah ...” the pauses were becoming ridiculous. He must have noticed. Should she say something? Apologise?

Oh she looked glorious standing there. The sniffles were becoming damper and more frequent, he could see a slight shining trail seeping from her left nostril and she raised her hand to rub it away. He could feel the excitement growing with every hitch of her breath, with every twitch of that delightfully freckled nose. But she was starting to look embarrassed. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable ... well OK, so he’d love her nose to be irritated, but unwell or embarrassed ... no.

She was going to have to say something. She could feel a trickling sensation, knew that her nose was going to overflow. She sniffed again, wetter than ever. “Ugh .... excuse be” she muttered, turning her face away and pulled her handbag open, groping inside with increasing urgency for the hankie she knew she had put there. Where on earth had the stupid thing gone. She had carefullly put it near the top. She dug with increasing desperation. It wasn’t there. She put the back of her hand up to her nose.

“Here!” The struggle was beautiful as well, the frantic search and scrabble. Oh that urgency. But he could see from the reddening of her face that she was becoming distressed. He dug a clean handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers and held it out reassuringly. She took it gratefully and buried her nose in its softness. He could see the green silk darkening with wetness as she wiped away the moisture. She didn’t blow her nose, just wiped and dabbed before commencing sniffing once more. How perfect she seemed.

She wondered what to do with the hankie. It was hardly polite to hand it back, soaked as it already was. Anyway, even as she felt the relief from the trickling, the irritation began afresh. She would have to say something. She looked upwards and searched his face, finding his blue eyes fixed intently on her face. “I’mb so sorry” she managed congestedly. “My ndose has been drivig me mbad all mornig.”

Her breath hitched once more and she raised the hankie again to her nose, rubbing hard. He could tell that she had reached the end of her sales pitch .... knew that he wasn’t going to buy anything. But damnit, he couldn’t let her just walk away. “Can I get you anything?” he found himself saying. “A cup of tea maybe?” A grateful look spread over her face and her eyes filled with moisture, even more than before. As she accepted and walked in through the hall it was his turn to feel uneasy as he found himself hoping against hope that he actually had everything he needed to actually make the tea he had so rashly offered.

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Thanks very much everyone. Tantalising snippets eh??? There is indeed more soon....

She followed him through the hall and into the kitchen and stood there, feeling slightly awkward. Should she just wait? Should she continue trying to talk about the timeshare? She looked down at the sheets on her clipboard and the motion immediately set her nose trickling and itching again. Thank goodness she was still clutching his handkerchief! She raised it gratefully to her nose and held it there, gently sniffling behind it. Here it came again though. Her eyes shut halfway and she breathed slowly in and out, even glancing at the window towards the sunlight, trying to coax the annoying tickle into fruition. It strengthened and spread and she felt her breath hitch, once, twice .... she sighed deeply as once more the sensation abated. A single tear escaped from her left eye and slid down her cheek and she rubbed it away irritably. Damn this frustration. With her breathing temporarily back under control, she turned to watch the young man as he stalked from kettle to fridge, selecting items, placing them with precision and minimalistic movements.

“Sit down!” he nodded curtly towards a leather chair in the corner of the room, a curved and soft interloper in a room of hard edges and metal. She did as he said, laying the clipboard down on the floor. She slid right back in the chair, leaning her head against its softness and closing her eyes. He found his own drawn to her face, to the slightly upturned nose with its pink edges, the slightly open mouth giving her a rather helpless look, at the same time desiring and desirable. He found himself longing to press his own lips to hers, he wanted to kiss those pale cheeks and run his finger down the length of that softly red nose and watch it flare and twitch into explosive action.

She opened her eyes and found his gaze upon her, an almost lustful look on his face. Odd she thought, so odd. He had no interest in timeshare, of that she was nearly certain, and yet ... she felt a blush creeping over her cheeks. But she was being silly, she thought as she began once more to succumb to a wave of sniffliness. If he didn’t want the timeshare, then he was probably only being kind to a girl who had arrived on his doorstep looking unwell. A wave of gratitude swelled inside her. How kind he was.

Oh Goddammit. He watched as her eyes opened and her cheeks flushed prettily as she found her eyes on him and then she was fighting once more with her nasal passages, the increasing wetness becoming apparent as a trail of moisure slid onto her delightfully curved upper lip. She sniffled prettily, raising the hankie once more to dab away the trickle which had escaped. He walked towards her, offering her the steaming cup of tea which she took and held up to her face, greedily breathing in the steam as he pulled up one of the hard kitchen chairs and sat beside her, looking down at her with a definite proprietorial air.

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You're killing me... Seriously, I'm dying over here waiting to see how this... climaxes, shall we say? :P This is torture I tell you. Torture! I'm in agony! Delightful delightful agony!

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Well darling, it's so lovely to have you back ... I hope this is sufficiently climatic!

She held the tea between her hands, as if to warm them, and breathed in the steam greedily. It felt wonderful and she felt her nose suddenly becoming clearer. She inhaled gratefully, feeling the steam prickling, bringing her close to the edge of that wonderful release, three sudden sniffling intakes of air announcing once more her nearness to that cliff edge of inevitability ... a deep breath ... and then .... she sighed heavily as the prospect of release slipped away once more.

He saw the small movement, heard the intake of breath and the rather sad sigh that followed it. He wondered what she would do if he were to kiss her. She had taken a sip of her tea and had placed the mug down on the side table. Her slightly parted lips were moist and tantalising and without thought he reached forwards, closing his eyes in ecstasy as he felt her warm nose touching his own, feeling a thrill of delight as he kissed more deeply, exploring lightly with his tongue.

He took her by surprise ... and yet there was something that felt so right about the way he leaned towards her so decisively. She found herself pressing her face to his, yielding gently as he lifted her and sat down on the chair himself, pulling her onto his knee. She could sense his excitement as he kissed her again, but the pressure of his wonderfully straight nose against hers was stirring up an irresistable urge all of its own. She pulled away slightly, her mouth agape, her breathing ragged, her nostrils wide ... and then the feeling left her once more and she groaned aloud. “Oh,” she moaned her frustration taking over “I deed to sdeeze so badly but I just cand’t!”

She looked at him, wretchedly, fearing that this moment, this wonderful beautiful moment was somehow going to be spoiled by her admission, but he only grinned fiendishly, and buried his left hand in her hair as if to steady her. She watched mesmerised as he raised his right hand and touched his little finger to her nose, running gently down its length, skirting the edge of her rose-tinted nostril and gently reaching into the moist interior. She felt his fingernail as it touched the membrane, tickling lightly and yet persistently as her breathing became ragged, alternating warm and cold on his cheek as she began to pant. She was losing control, her nostrils were flaring wildly and then she sneezed, her spray drenching his cheek, unable to pull away as she sneezed again and again. Finally it was over, and she allowed her head to fall and rest against his chest, sighing deeply, feeling the beaded jewels that had escaped onto her upper lip soaking into his shirt.

Oh it had been worth waiting for, that moment of bliss. He looked down at her and gently stroked her head as she sighed deeply. “Better?” he asked, his own voice sounding husky.

“Oh, so much better,” she replied, her voice sounding snuffly and deliciously fulfilled.


“So I take it you arend’t really indterested in buying a timbeshare?” She turned towards him in the bed and looked up provocatively , her warm chin resting on his bare chest, her body curled wickedly around his own. He gazed down at her, wondering whether he should kiss her again or postpone that pleasure for later.

“I fear not!! He replied, smiling back. Damn, she was so infectious! “So have you ever even been to Spain?” He thought once more of the tacky photograph and of the abandoned clipboard, lying forgotten on the floor downstairs.

“I did go there ondce ... but it was a bit of a ndightmare. I think I’mb allergic to those flowers they have there. I couldnd’t stop sdeezing. ... What are they called agaid?” she trailed off and paused for a moment, as if trying to remember, and then clarity emerged. “Bougaidvillia!” she announced and nodded happily.

“You know where we could go then?” he said, with a slightly wicked smile. “I have a friend who has a villa in Switzerland he tells me I can borrow. Switzerland should be safe enough surely!”

“Switzerladd?” she exclaimed. “ I’d love to go there!” She felt suddenly free. She could find another job somewhere. Some chances in life were just too good to miss.

He pulled himself out of bed and padded over to the computer in the corner of the room. “We should book it straight away.“ He switched on the computer, searching the internet for for flights as he thought with a wicked pleasure of the beautiful white painted villa in Locarno, of the mild Mediterranean climate of the town, and of the intensely rich bouganvillia that grew there in such profusion.

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Phew! At last.... she can get some satisfaction. Yummy nasal fun, and detail. And I can see room for a sequelula.

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Oh my... That, my dear, was more than worth the torturous wait! I am so glad you wrote this story! I've enjoyed reading it so much.

Mmmm, a sequelua Count? I think that would be an excellent idea if you ever feel the desire Vet! Perhaps some turn about would be in order? After all that perfectly straight nose of his must also have so perfectly lovely sneezes of it's own! :winkkiss:

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Hmmm... such a delightful story. Thank you so much for sharing this, Vetinari. :yuck: A truly mouthwatering tortuous build-up. ^^

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That is a piece of wonderfully tantalising and tortuous writing, Vet. :D I loved and hung on every word and in a way I'm kind of glad I didn't notice it until you'd posted it all. I'm not sure I would have been able to cope with the anticipation otherwise! :D :D

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That is a piece of wonderfully tantalising and tortuous writing, Vet. :) I loved and hung on every word and in a way I'm kind of glad I didn't notice it until you'd posted it all. I'm not sure I would have been able to cope with the anticipation otherwise! :lol: :lol:

A thousand times, this!! :)

I love you, Vet. :blushing:

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