Filthy Excerpt Thursday

Almost straight away he grunts loudly and begins to shake all over. His hand is squeezing his cock so hard his knuckles show white. I wrap my fingers around his, spurring him on to keep pumping through his orgasm. As soon as he does, his hot seed ends up all over my cleavage and I fall back on the bed, furiously rubbing my clit for him.

He’s still watching, still high, while I push myself over the edge. My best bet at muffling my cries is to bite my lip so hard I may just draw blood this time.
When I open my eyes he’s still kneeling in the same place, still holding on to himself even if a lot more relaxed.

“That’s the most beautiful thing…” His stares are enough to bring his point across.

I stretch out a little bit and grin up at him. A few moments later, he starts to regain his composure just a little.

“How did you know I’d like to watch?” he asks.

I shrug. “You’re a man. I figured it was a safe enough bet.”

“And I just wanted to plant a strong image in your head which you won’t be able to ignore every time you enter or think of this room.” I chuckle.

He grins back at me while getting off the bed and straightening his legs.

“Congratulations, you’ve succeeded!” he says while handing me the tissues.

I won’t reveal just yet which story this has been taken from. It’s as yet unpublished and unfinished.

Morning After II

This is only part of the story! Read The Job Interview, First Day at Work, At Last They Meet  and Morning After first to find out what happens before this.

I stretch a few times on the way to the kitchen, feeling quite pleased with myself indeed. He’s just there, in the bathroom. I can hear the shower switch on. He likes me! I can’t believe it. This is so much better than I had hoped for.

I know I told him I didn’t want to be with him while he’s on the rebound. But I was lying, mainly to myself. I would’ve happily taken any chance of being with him at all. I’m a slave to my emotions generally, but somehow even more so with him. I was desperate. Maybe because it had been a while since I had been with a man? No, that can’t be it. There was just something special about John. I don’t just have a crush on him. I have fallen in love.

I wonder what he likes for breakfast. I’ve never seen him eat any at the office. But who doesn’t like bacon and eggs. Quickly I clear the dirty dishes off the small breakfast bar; the only thing even resembling a dining table which could fit into this place. I hope he hasn’t noticed the mess. At least I remembered to tidy the bathroom when I went in just before him.

While the bacon is sizzling away, I go into the bedroom, rummaging through drawers that haven’t been opened in ages. I’m sure I’ve still got some of Greg’s old stuff in here somewhere, things he didn’t bother taking with him when he left. I wonder if it would make John uncomfortable to wear my ex’s old clothes? But then he didn’t exactly bring an overnight bag… I find some sweats and a t-shirt. They should fit, hopefully. After all, Greg was quite a big guy as well, but that is where the resemblance to John ends.

“Wow, that smells great,” John says. He looks so tempting, wearing the old and hugely over-sized dark blue bathrobe that I normally use when dyeing my hair. I’m just plating up the food but am severely distracted imagining what’s underneath that robe.

“Oh it’s nothing fancy,” I say as I turn back to face the counter again, “Tea or coffee?”

“Tea please,” John says.

“I’ve found some clothes, see if they fit. I figured you might want to wear something clean after that shower…” I say while busying myself with the tea a bit more than perhaps would be necessary. But the more I look at him in the bathrobe, the more I can feel my nipples poking through my t-shirt and a fuzzy, warm sensation building up in my lower abdomen.

It had taken a lot of effort for me to be decent last night. I had felt his warm breath against my lips, its rhythm building up faster and faster, his tongue feverishly seeking out mine. He had wanted me then. But I had to be sure that he had really wanted me and wasn’t just feeling horny generally. I had promised myself that I wouldn’t make that mistake again, giving myself to a guy too soon and ending up hurt in the process. And plus, even if I had been sure of that already, I would prefer him to remember every second of it.

No sooner that I put the tea on the bar, where the food is already waiting, does John come back in wearing the clothes I had found. If anything, they’re slightly loose on him but not by much. He looks delicious even so. I can’t take my eyes off him, checking him out from head to toe. I hope he doesn’t think I’m a total nympho.

We sit down at opposite ends of the bar, he seems a bit stiff, awkward.

“So whose are these then? They seem a bit, umm, big for you…” he asks.

“Oh, my ex left them behind.” I say, before taking a big bite of toast.

“Ah. Right.”

We eat quietly, every so often sneaking a look at each other. The food seems to be doing him good, he is starting to look more alert with every bite. But his eyes are tensing up more and more also, as though something is bothering him.

“More?” I ask, as soon as he’s emptied his plate.

“No, that’s ok. Thanks.” His eyes wander around the room, over the empty plates and back at me.

“Umm, I guess I should head home,” he says, his tone suggests it’s more a question than a statement.

“If you want to…” Please don’t go… “Do you have any plans this weekend?”

“Not really…” He answers.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to stay if you like. I haven’t got anything on either, I was just going to watch some films that I had recorded earlier. Or whatever you’d like to do…”

“Sure,” he says, sounding relieved. His expression has relaxed again and his eyes meet mine. We just stare, it feels like forever. I wonder if he can feel the same fluttering in his chest that I feel. The same ticklish sensation in his stomach, the magnetism between us, how my hands are just drawn towards him. Of course that’s why I’ve been extra touchy-feelie for weeks. I don’t do casual friendly gestures, little touches while walking by, I don’t even hug my friends. But I’ve been fighting the urge every day to throw myself at him. Why am I still fighting? I remind myself; he’s already here!

I slip off the bar stool, taking a step in his direction. His eyes have widened, and breathing sped up again. He swallows hard. What a sweetheart, so nervous, just like me.

But we can’t both be shy, I tell myself.

“I’ve been wanting to do this again so badly,” I breathe, my lips almost touching his, but I hold back. I need reassurance.

“Oh please,” he whispers back at me.

He smells of my soap mixed with clean laundry and bacon. And still this unmistakable scent holding it all together, him. I can’t hold back any longer and take his hands, putting them on my waist. I slide my hands up over his arms and pull myself towards him around his neck. His lips are as soft as I remember from last night. Just perfect. It feels like an electric shock releases the tension that had built up between us, we’re free now.

Kissing deeply and passionately, his strong arms around me once more. He gets off his stool as well bending down allowing me to reach better. He may have started off shy, but his kisses are determined. I can feel his need for me in his movements, his hands exploring the contours of my back, fingertips gently massaging my shoulder blades through my thin t-shirt, I slip my hands down between his arms so I can get around his waist as well, tugging at him to hold me tighter when he grabs me around the small of my waist, lifting me up and onto the bar stool. At last my face is exactly at his level. I put my arms around his neck again, running my fingers through his damp hair. And my legs open to allow him closer against me.

“You’re amazing,” I gasp at him. One of my hands slips down the back of his t-shirt caressing his smooth, soft skin, the other remains in his hair, playing and tugging softly.

“Liar,” he responds. I pull back and look into his deep amber eyes again. So innocent and naked, I can see that now his walls are down for me. I cover his cheek in kisses, travelling down his neck. His head and shoulders twitch, trapping me, but I keep on licking and sucking on the silky skin on his neck, underneath his ear and where his neck reaches his shoulder.

A groan escapes his lips and his hands freeze on my back, he’s rigid in my arms, clinging to me tightly.

“Stop, I can’t,” he says, gasping for air.

I release my hold on him and look him in the eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I can’t hold back,” he says, trying his best to avoid eye contact. Looks like the wall is back up.

“You don’t need to hold back.” I try, running my left hand through his hair again.

“I can’t do this, not yet,” he whispers.

His statement confuses me, I hadn’t foreseen anything like this.

“You don’t have to. There’s no rush,” I say softly, trying to hide my concern. I smile at him and give him a soft peck on his lips. “You choose, whatever you want to do and when. We can take things slowly.”

Finally he looks back into my eyes, his relief is obvious. But I’m worried now, where did I go wrong? Maybe he is still too hung up on his ex after all.

“Thanks, I’m sorry about this…” His hand reaches up to caress my cheek with the back of his fingers. “I need you to know, it’s not you. I’m just… I want things to be perfect. This is a huge step for me.”

I swallow and blink a few times, studying his face. He seems genuine. I do hope he doesn’t think I’m a slut, making myself too available to him.

“Right. Well how about those films then…” I try to change the topic while slipping off the bar stool. He holds me back by my arm on my way towards the sofa.

“I meant it. It’s not you. I just never thought I’d end up here. I’m still sort of expecting that I’ll wake up alone in my own bed and this will all have been a dream,” he says. “I don’t want to fuck this up. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

Regret, me? I shake my head in disbelief.

“Why would you fuck anything up?” I ask, eyebrows raised.

His face falls and he whispers: “I hardly know what I’m doing…”

Oh damn. He’s nervous! That I can understand, I’m not the most confident person either, sometimes just making a simple phone call can cause me to have a mild panic attack.

“Well, you could’ve fooled me.” I smile at him.

I hand him the remote while we sit down on the sofa.

“You pick, I’ve not seen any of them yet.”

I purposefully sit extra close to him, even though there is plenty of space. He presses play and the movie starts, but I’m not even aware which one it is. His warmth right next to me, the memory of our kiss, it all adds up to make me painfully aware of even the slightest movement or sound. His breathing is calmer than before, but he’s still tense, sitting straight with his hand on his thigh.

I fold my legs underneath me, and while I wiggle back into the plush sofa, brushing against his leg, his arm twitches and he starts holding his breath. Then he raises his arm and puts it around me. I don’t hesitate to move closer against him and rest my head on his shoulder. I can hear him sigh. Why is he so very nervous though?

I turn towards him and find his other arm, holding him tight. That was all the encouragement he needed. I’m engulfed in his embrace, pressing myself tightly against his chest. His heartbeat is rapid, in tune with the eerie background music of the film we’re not really watching.

I can feel his breath against my hair, it tickles slightly, making me even more on edge. But I can be patient for him, I tell myself. With my eyes closed I try to focus on my breathing, slowly and deeply. It’s not really working…

“Why?” His voice interrupts my attempts at relaxing myself.

“Why what?” I ask, unwilling to get up from his embrace.

“This. You, me…” he hesitates.

“I don’t understand. Why not?” I respond.

“I just never had anyone interested in me like that before…” he says, his voice trembling slightly.

“I thought… What about your ex?” I lie, worrying that it would be too embarrassing to reveal that I already heard too much of that story from the girls in the office.

“She lied.” He swallows hard. “She never even kissed me once like you have. I should’ve seen it but I just thought it was all I could hope for. When she left, she told me it was all just pretend. Then, I’ve already told you, about her and my brother… When she left I thought I’d lost my only chance to be with someone.”

“That’s why you’ve been upset, even before you found out about them,” I say, holding him tighter.

“Initially. Until you came along and then I couldn’t stop wondering, what if…” His voice is almost a whisper now. His gentle kisses burn through my hair, on top of my head and neck.

“She must be crazy,” I say. I lift my head and am overwhelmed by the sadness in his eyes.

“How could she do that to you.” Holding his face in my hands I kiss him on the lips. My whole being aches to make him see that there is another way.

“And before her?” I ask in between kisses.

“Nothing before her. I wasn’t exactly popular growing up. Girls weren’t interested. In school they only spoke to me to be introduced to my brother, same thing at uni…” The way he says it, suggests he doesn’t think much of his brother at all.

“Oh well, I can understand that. School was pretty similar for me.” He starts kissing me back before I even finish the sentence.

“Umm, last night, you said it was like being 15 all over again. What did you mean?” I ask.

He hesitates before answering.

“Oh, that.” He averts his eyes from mine. “I liked one of the girls in my class then. She seemed nice, had only just joined the school that term. The others used to call me names but she never did. Then a few weeks later one of the others told me that this girl liked me and wanted to be my date for the upcoming school dance but was too shy to say something herself. In the end it was just a set-up, a joke. They were all in on it.”

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” I whisper, pressing my cheek against his and putting my arms around his neck.

“Nevermind, that was a long time ago. But,” he takes a deep breath. “I still don’t understand why you like me.”

“What’s there not to like? You’re kind, caring, honest, have a great sense of humour, you’re really smart -” I start.

“None of that explains why you would want me as anything other than a friend,” he interrupts me.

“You’re strong, and don’t seem to care what people think, loyal, I feel like I could trust you with anything…” I continue.

He shakes his head. “Hold on. Take a good look at me and back at yourself. Why would YOU want to be with a guy like me? You could have anyone, Richard has been-”

“Don’t start about him, he’s uber-creepy! Never in a million years, would I ever consider…” Just thinking about him makes my skin crawl, I shudder instead of finishing that sentence.

John just looks at me with an amused glint in his eyes and a smile playing on his lips.

“Ha, you really hate him, don’t you!”

“Is it that obvious?” I ask, grinning back at him.

“My point still stands though, why would you ever like a guy like me?” he asks.

“I thought I had just made it clear that you do appear to be quite a catch.” I innocently bat my eyelashes.

“You know what I mean… look at you, you’re absolutely stunning and I’m…” He gestures down at himself, it’s obvious where this is going.

“You’re a big guy, so what? I don’t mind,” I respond. Sweetheart you have no idea how much I don’t mind.

“You’re odd.” He sighs and pulls me back into his arms. “But I’m glad for it.”

The movie is still on, preparing for its climactic finish where the main character stabs everyone in a wild frenzy using a huge kitchen knife.

“Which movie was this anyway?” I ask as the credits roll. He just laughs in response.

At last, he sounds happy, at ease. I cuddle up even closer. God knows just being this close to John has me all hot and bothered. But at the same time it’s a revelation how amazing it is to just sit here, enjoying each other’s company and innocent affections. Where did all these feelings come from in such a short time? I’ve never fallen this hard for anyone.

“Oh, shit. That Christmas do, that’s tonight isn’t it?” I remember.

“Umm yeah, a fairly stupid day for it if you ask me. Were you thinking of going?” he responds.

“Well, I thought, with me being the new girl and all, maybe I should show face for a bit…”

“Oh. Yeah I guess,” he says.

“You weren’t going to?” I ask.

He shrugs.

“Well, I was sort of hoping you’d be my date… I mean if you feel like it.” I say.

“What, officially? Like you want to be open about it?” He sounds surprised.

“Unless it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Me? Hell no. You do realise people will talk,” he says.

“Where would Sharon and her gang be without fresh gossip.” I smile at him.

“Richard will be pissed,” he remarks.

“That’s his problem then.”

We sit quietly for another minute or so.

“You are serious, aren’t you?” John asks.


“You really don’t care what they’ll say?” He still sounds unsure.

“I don’t even like any of them. Out of everyone in office, I’ve only ever cared about what you think of me. It wouldn’t cause you any trouble I hope?” I ask.

“No, no trouble. This is just unexpected, that’s all.” He shakes his head a few times. “I still don’t know what I ever did to get you to like me.”

“I have an idea what you can do now to get me to like you even better,” I say with a naughty smile. I move back and lie against the armrest of the empty half of the sofa, motioning him to come closer. He does until he is right on top of me, on all fours.

“Kiss me again!” I whisper. His eyes darken as he rests on his elbows either side of me, our bodies pressed together and his lips on mine. I’m sandwiched between the sofa and his soft bulk, I’m so excited I can barely breathe while kissing him hungrily.

He stops and starts to lift himself off me.

“I’m sorry, I’m crushing you..”

But I don’t let him go and pull him into me once more.

“You’re not,” I gasp, “I love this.”

It doesn’t take much to convince him and our mouths merge, tongues entwined, in the most mind blowing kiss I have ever experienced. For someone who’s supposedly not had a lot of practice, he sure knows how to kiss. My fingertips run up his arms simultaneously, teasing against his bare skin under the sleeves of his t-shirt, up to his shoulders and over his shoulder blades. His skin so smooth and flawless I wish I could taste it.

I can feel him shudder under my every touch, involuntarily grinding up against me. His arousal blatantly obvious, pressing rock hard into my thigh. I was already breathless and now he has reached a similar state, his lips finding my neck, impatiently kissing and sucking in between ragged breaths. I writhe underneath him, rubbing my thigh against his hard cock. He moans into my ear, with such a deep, sexy voice.

“Ohh, I can’t…” he stops mid sentence, while I just hang on to him, feeling every single muscle in his back tense up together underneath my fingertips. I lift myself up as far as I can manage. He starts to twitch and shudder, and I just hold on, biting softly into his neck, enjoying the primal last groan that escapes his lips before he sinks into me, slowly relaxing all over, pinning me into the sofa cushion under his full weight.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he finally manages after catching his breath.
“Shh,” I say, “that was so hot! Best kiss, ever.” My hands are still under his shirt, caressing his back, circling over his shoulders.

He has moved down a little bit, his face pressed into my chest. I take one hand out of his shirt and put my whole arm around him further up over his shoulder, causing him to nuzzle underneath, hiding. He sighs deeply before speaking again.

“This is what I was worried about, that I’d lose it.”

I lift up my head to reach him, kissing him on his hair.

“This is what I had been hoping for, dreaming of. Letting go is not a bad thing. Every sound, every movement you made showed me that you want me as much as I want you.”

He remains silent, taking slower and deeper breaths. Finally he lifts up one arm and takes my hand, kissing my knuckles and putting it over the side of his head, covering his eyes.

“You are a bit odd indeed,” he sighs again.

I can’t suppress a smile and respond: “Well, odd or not. You’re stuck with me now.”

This story has now been published as Just Another Day at the Office – part one.

Morning After

This is only part of the story! Read The Job Interview, First Day at Work and At Last They Meet first to find out what happens before this.

Ow my head. I wake up in a daze. Blinking a few times before the room gets into focus. This place does not look familiar at all. A TV, Xbox and a stack of DVDs at eye height in a dark teak finish cabinet with a bunch of black candles in a holder on top. This is definitely someone’s living room, but whose and how did I get here. I try to move, my head feels like it weighs a ton. Wherever I have fallen asleep last night, it’s warm, comfortable. And moving?!

I lift myself up and come face to face with the most beautiful thing ever. Cath’s eyes are still closed but she’s stretching. Well no wonder, she must be totally numb after having me fall asleep on her lap for… Well, not sure for how long.

She blinks a few times and smiles at me.

“Morning,” she says.

I’m dumbfounded and just stare at her. This can’t be real, am I even awake?

“Umm, do you remember anything?”

I shake my head, slowly, trying not to upset my sense of balance too much.

“You came by last night, I guess you found my note after having a bit much to drink…”

Flashes of last night are coming back to me, god how embarrassing. I was pretty angry and vaguely recall yelling at her. I rub the side of my head with my finger tips.

“Oh fuck. I actually said all those things? I’m so sorry…” I whisper, with my head in my hands.
I just sit still trying to remember what else happened when I feel her warm hand momentarily burning into my shoulder. My only hope of trying to disguise the fact that even the slightest touch forces my heartbeat into overdrive is to just hold my breath.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right back,” she says while getting up.

I’m so deep in thought again that I only barely hear the door opening and closing behind me, followed by the sound of running water.

After I accused her of messing me about, what did she say? She was crying, I definitely remember that. Shit I made her cry, I’m such an idiot! And then… she came closer and held me, and… I wish I knew whether I’m remembering last night or a dream.

“No it can’t be…”

“What can’t be?” she says.

I hadn’t even noticed her coming back in. She sits down next to me again, legs folded and facing me. The thin fabric of her t-shirt clings around her just enough to show off her perfect, bra-less body. I force myself to look at her face instead, I wonder why she bothers with make up usually, she’s so beautiful even after just waking up.

“Did we…” I start, not daring to finish the question.

She gives me a wicked smile and says; “What are you hoping that we did?”

I feel blood rushing into my face and just stare at her speechless.

“OK, I’m being unfair,” she lets out a giggle, “we kissed. That’s it. I wouldn’t want to be accused of taking advantage of you while you’re out of it.”

Her face turns serious. “But I need you to be honest. If you don’t feel the same way about me after sobering up, and it was all a silly mistake…”

I’m just shocked. She kissed me. All these images in my head, they’re real, no dream. I can hardly catch my breath. What does it mean? Maybe she was just trying to get me to calm down, after all I was really riled up and might have scared her coming here like that.

She continues, “Look, I was being honest last night. I have wanted you all this time. But it seemed like you weren’t interested and I didn’t want to come off all desperate. I wanted a real chance…”

I’ve got so many questions, I don’t know where to begin.


“I didn’t want to be your rebound girl. I want you to like me for me…” She looks gorgeous even with that worried frown on her face, or perhaps even more so because of it.

It makes no sense to me, she is worried I wouldn’t like her. That she’d be a stand in for Julie. It’s laughable. I just don’t know what to say, none of this makes any sense. But the longer I stay quiet, the worse she’ll feel. I should reach out, make her understand that she has never been the problem.

I hold my breath again and force my hand forward, running my fingertips over her cheek, before putting my other hand on her shoulder. The moment I pull her towards me ever so slightly, she falls into my arms as though that’s where she’s wanted to be all along.

How did I do this? She’s the kindest person I’ve ever met, way out of my league in every way. And she’s hiding her face in my chest, when all I’ve ever done was be grumpy and horrible to her. I yelled at her last night, for what? For being nice to me when noone else even bothers to be polite, for trying to flirt with me. What a moron I am.

“I’m sorry,” I say finally, “I’ve been such a moody git all along. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

I hold her tighter, pressing my face into her soft hair. Her scent is intoxicating. She feels so small in my embrace, so fragile. She has let her defenses down in front of me, it’s obvious that this isn’t just an act. And anyway, why would it be when there is no audience. It’s only the both of us.

“Sure, I’ve been upset over Julie, but things changed the moment you walked into the office on your first day. You’ve been all I could think. I could hardly bear sitting next to you, I thought if I ignored you…” I say, “maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much that I couldn’t have you.”

She pulls back and looks at me, her eyelashes sticky with the remnants of tears as she blinks a few times.

“Well you have me now,” she says. A smile appears on her lips. She looks like an angel when she smiles.

“Are you hungry?” And smart as well.

“Yeah, but you don’t need to make a fuss…” I get up, looking for the bathroom. Luckily there aren’t many doors to choose from and the first I try happens to be the correct one.

I take one look at myself in the mirror and the same feeling of shock from before hits me again. I look and smell like I’ve been hit by an off-license delivery truck. Ugh, and I’ve just had my dream girl pressed into my chest, without showing the slightest hint of disgust. In fact it would seem she rather enjoyed it. Maybe she has a cold and her sense of smell is impaired.

I feel surprisingly OK after last night though, not the same terrible hangovers I’ve been having at work lately. The cold water feels so refreshing against my face.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Fresh towels are in the cupboard if you need them… and you’re welcome to use the bathrobe hanging on the hook behind the door.” Alright, so perhaps she doesn’t have a cold after all. Awkward.

Move on to Morning After II.

Not Enough – III

Note: Please read 1 August 2006, Not Enough – I, Not Enough – II first to get the full story.

“History is written by the victors”
Sir Winston Churchill

3 August 2012. I wonder if I can will the situation in my favour by continuing to write about it. Perhaps this way, I can force a happy ending for us. Either way I’m going to try.

Today’s Friday and I’m very glad indeed. Soon we’ll have the weekend to ourselves. We’ve been working on an old motorcycle together, trying to change a few bits and pieces; seat, tail light, indicators… I’ve never done anything like it before, but it’s nice to be actually involved instead of watching others do similar things on the Discovery Channel.

The day passes, nothing much happens. Except the delivery of my brand new tail light. So I come home triumphantly carrying the light, excited to try and see what it will look like on the bike. He’s already home of course, his office is only 10 minutes away. As I come in, he gets up and walks towards me, muting the TV. The look on his face is hard to place, sort of uncertain, insecure.

“We did it today, lunchtime.” He looks worried now, waiting for me to react. It’s obvious what he means.

I don’t know what to say, I try looking at the floor, fighting back the tears. Damn it why do I cry so easily! Today?! I’ve hardly had time to think, to get used to the idea. I thought I had time…

“I’m sorry. You’re upset.” He hugs me, his arms enveloping me completely. I can’t move, so I just stand there, arms hanging down by my sides. “If it upsets you so much, we won’t do it you know.”

“What do you mean ‘we won’t’? You did or you didn’t?” I push him back, looking at him, eyes narrowed. This time it’s him avoiding my gaze, I don’t know what to make of this at all.


“I thought you didn’t want to know details… That maybe it would help if you weren’t sure.” This time he’s looking at the floor.

“Yeah but I didn’t want you telling me in a half-assed manner either! Now you started talking, you don’t get to be vague about it! Either you fucking did or didn’t, which is it?” I feel myself getting annoyed now. Why is he playing around? I try to calm myself down – deeply breathing in and out.

“We did… I can’t keep secrets from you.” His voice sounds small, scared. “Please don’t hate me.”

Well at least that takes care of the uncertainty I was feeling, over whether he’d go through with it. That ship has now sailed. He went through with it. Tears are properly streaming down my face now but I’m hardly making a sound.

“You told me about the 25th. And now you’ve done it already. I thought I had time to get used to the idea.” I pause and press my face against him, waiting for him to put his arms around me again.

I dry my face in his T-shirt and pick up the tail light. I need to distract myself from this mess. The motorcycle is parked in the garden; I quickly walk towards it with my new light. Held against the back of the seat, it looks exactly how I had hoped, I connect it up to test if it works. He’s watching me as I press the brake and flip the light switch a few times. It must be showing on my face that I’m pleased with the result because he comes over and holds me again.

“You’re happy with the new light? Good.”

I don’t know happy is the right word to describe my feelings right now, but yes the light is good. I nod.

“We share so much together, please don’t take this personally. You’ll always be the one I love.”

He still has his arm around me as we go back inside.

There’s a sealed envelope on the dining table with his name on it.

“What’s this?” I pick it up to show him.

“Her wedding invitation.” He opens it as we sit down on the sofa. Saturday the 10th of November, 7pm onwards. As I’m reading the card I can’t help but feel sorry for her fiance. He has no clue at all.

“I guess I’ll be going by myself,” he says.

“What?! I’m not invited? She gets to fuck you and I don’t even get free food in return? Unacceptable” My sense of humour is coming back, that’s something.

“Though I could see how it would be awkward to meet her and her hubby-to-be. ‘Hi I’m the wife of the one your wife is fucking’,” I continue.

He pulls me towards him and we both lie down on the sofa, me on top of him in his arms, my head resting on his chest. He starts telling me absentmindedly about something that happened on his drive home, some speed trap nearby, he comments she may have got a ticket.

“You brought her here?” I’m a bit shocked; after all he’d said himself he didn’t want to bring her into our house. Looking around the living room there are bike parts, dust everywhere. “It’s filthy in here!”

He can’t stop himself from laughing. “Silly cow, THAT’S your biggest worry? That the place is dirty?”

I realise it’s quite stupid but I can’t help myself. I promise myself that I’ll clean up properly this weekend.

“You’re going to laugh some more.. I’m writing a book.”

“What book?”

“About this. I thought it might be a good outlet. Since I can’t really talk to anyone about it.”

“You can talk to me!” He seems hurt. Men!

“Yeah I can talk to you, but that’s not how it works! Women tend to talk about emotional stuff to deal with things.”

“So why don’t you talk to your best friend about it?” Honestly? He really doesn’t get it.

“Well I can’t. Not until I’m OK with everything. It’s not an easy topic and I don’t want to get into a conversation about what I should and shouldn’t accept and how you’re a mean bastard who hurt me.”

“Fine ok, that makes sense. Well if you think writing will help.”

I didn’t want to tell him. But I just blurted it out. But I don’t think I’ll let him read it, ever.

“You fucked up my whole storyline. I had 25 days to write about until it would happen. And you went and did it already!”

My remark seems to have amused him. “Sorry…” he says sheepishly.

For a few minutes I’m lying in his arms quietly. Surely, he didn’t do it in the bed like he promised me he wouldn’t… I look around some more, lift my head to look at him.

“The sofa…?”

He nods.

It troubles me a bit, but I lie down again and close my eyes.

“I’m getting used to the idea. But I can’t promise it’s not going to come back to bother me again.” And I can’t promise I won’t bring it up in snide remarks during arguments either. I let out a deep sigh.

He strokes my back and I relax some more. Emotions sure are exhausting. I close my eyes and start drifting away.

Keep calm, all hope is lost. 

Ladies’ Day – a little taster.

Update 2019: This short story has been unpublished some years ago, but it does form the basis of my novella, Beautiful Stranger, so I’m leaving this taster up, because in some form or other, it’s still relevant.

Why not get a little taste of it from the short except below:

“Excuse me, where’s your bathroom?” His call is coming from the back door.

“Oh please come in, it’s just over there…” I point at the door leading off the hallway.

Still the contrast between us is startling to me, he looks like everything I am not in his formals which probably cost more than my car is worth. At the same time I – at 25 – still dress like I did as a teenager, faded jeans and inappropriately tight t-shirts. The only “fancy” clothes I own are worn exclusively to job interviews and then too they’re Primark or at a stretch Next. You could mistake me for a simple idealist, not moved by worldly possessions, when in fact I am just a bit stingy and lazy.

But strangely, he looks at home, walking over the terracotta tiles and towards the door I’ve just shown him. Taking in the decor, glancing at the eclectic mix of paintings and photographs on my walls on his way. Like he is meant to be here, in my house. I try and shake off that thought. He’s just some stranger and I’m an idiot for doing this.

The ping of the oven timer brings me back to reality and I pile all the food, plates and cutlery high onto a tray, and head back out. After I’ve arranged everything on the wooden table and make another trip for the cushions, a water jug and the aforementioned cheap wine, he comes back out as well.

“Oh you didn’t need to…” He says, smiling at me. Looking at him now, more relaxed and at ease, I feel like I’m getting a hint of his usual demeanor. Charismatic is probably the best word for it. Like he should be a politician, but still strangely genuine and trustworthy.

“I sort of did, I’m starving,” I respond, “and Dominos doesn’t deliver here.”

He lets out a laugh while sitting down on the bench beside me. Thankfully it’s large and sturdy, quite over spec for my usual needs as a single woman.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” I point at the food, wine and water, “unless you want coffee or tea, I can do that too.”

“Yeah, I don’t tend to drink much, is it that obvious?” He smiles again. My heart is pounding in my chest; I can’t get over how handsome he is, by body language perhaps even more so than simply looks.

“Well, whatever you need, just ask.” My eyes are drawn towards his, in this light they seem more turquoise than blue. He holds my gaze just a little longer than strictly necessary before picking up the wine and corkscrew.

“I suppose one glass won’t hurt. I promise I don’t feel ill anymore.” He doesn’t look it either, must be the fresh air.

“Don’t be so sure, you haven’t tried it yet. It’s probably nowhere near the quality you’re used to.” I say, still mesmerised by his eyes.

He grins at me. “Everything is only as good as the company it’s enjoyed in.”

I feel the corners of my mouth curl up practically by themselves, this is a game I know how to play.

“Well, and what do you know about current company other than that I was overly keen to get my hands on your car keys?”

“Firstly, you took a huge risk trying to help out a complete stranger,” winking at me, he adds, “car keys or no car keys.”

I take the glass of wine he has poured for me.

“Furthermore, I don’t recall the last time anyone has made an effort putting together a meal for me…” His gaze wanders out over the field again.

“Fine, if you say so,” I say, “but for all you know I could be a psychopath, only pretending to be friendly.”

He looks back at me again, the amused glint in his eyes reappearing. “So could I.”

“Cheers,” I say, raising my glass towards him, “to us, pretending to be friendly.”

We both take a sip, stealing little looks at each other in turn.

At Last They Meet

OK, I admit, I skipped some parts of the story, but writing this passage got me so excited I simply had to share it. Read The Job Interview and First Day at Work first for a little introduction into the characters.

I’m half asleep, nearly swallowed up by the massive sofa and no longer really registering the blue flicker of the TV, when I hear the doorbell. I glance at the clock, 1 am, who’s at the door at fucking 1am?

I get up to check, smoothing down my pjs as best I can but I know I look like I’ve just woken up. Well tough, whoever it is will just have to deal with it if they’re going to come to my place this late.

I open the door slightly with the chain on, and catch a glimpse of John. I immediately close the door again to open the chain and open wide to let him in. He looks upset, the smell of booze hangs around him.

“What the fuck, Cath!” He’s slurring his words. “Why? Why do you toy with me?”

“Umm, not sure what you’re talking about, John” I step back, giving him space to enter.
He staggers into the kitchenette and leans on the counter, his head hanging down. What’s made him so upset?

“What do you mean, toy with you?” I ask.

“You know, acting all nice. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were dropping hints. You think you’re the first to do this? You think I’d fall for it? And then you leave me this..” He shows me the crumpled up piece of paper in his hand. The note I’d left in his bag earlier that day.

“Fall for what?” I ask, while putting my hand on his arm. He flinches as soon as I touch him.

“This, what the fuck is this?” He gestures down at my hand, then looks at me. His expression is wild, angry, yet the anger does not extend to his eyes.  “It might not be a big deal to you, just a gesture, but don’t you understand… this drives me crazy!”

“Oh but it is a big deal to me.” I whisper.

“And I know, that sooner or later, when I can’t take it anymore, and I want more,” he continues to rant, “it’ll be like I’m fucking 15 all over again. If you are actually as nice as you pretend to be, you’ll let me down easy – say you just wanna be friends…”

He is looking down at the floor again, I can see tears in his eyes. I can’t believe it, he actually likes me that way. All this time it had felt like I was talking to a wall, like nothing I did could make him notice me as anything other than a colleague. But he had noticed, and misunderstood me completely.

“John,” I say, while taking his face in my hands. “You don’t understand.” I can feel tears welling up in my eyes too as I look at his troubled expression, but his gaze evades mine. I stand up on my toes, our faces only inches apart now. “I’ve had a crush on you since I first saw you…”

His eyes widen in disbelief, and our lips meet in a near perfect first kiss. Hesitant and gentle, his lips so soft against mine it makes me ache for more. One tear is started to run down my face as I kiss him, I drink in his scent, although masked by how much he’s had to drink, I can still taste him. My hands have moved on, fingers running through his hair and pulling him down into me. He is starting to react, returning my kisses, until we’re both equally breathless. I coax his lips open more, allowing my tongue to find his, dancing around it. While our tongues meet, it’s as if the floodgates open inside of me, releasing all the desire I had locked up inside. Blood rushes outwards from my core into even the farthest parts of my body until even my fingertips are buzzing. His large, strong hands find their way onto my back. He holds me so tightly against him. I can feel his warm body crushing against me and it drives me wild with pleasure. I’d been dreaming of this moment so many times and it does not disappoint. I take a step back, and he abruptly releases me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he stammers.

I shake my head and smile, and pull him towards the sofa by his hand.

“I’m not sorry,” I say, pushing him down, “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long…”

The disappointment that had appeared in his eyes is replaced by surprise again. I kneel next to him on the sofa, leaning in for another kiss. The excitement inside me is growing with every shallow breath I take and I can tell I’m having a similar effect on him. I keep losing myself in the moment, the only thing reminding me this isn’t just a dream is when I manage to open my eyes every so often and see is face right in front of mine. He’s here with me, finally, I can hardly believe it. His eyes seem to be losing focus, as though the long day as well as the drink is catching up with him.

“You look knackered,” I say, while tracing the tired lines under his eyes. “Here.”

I hand him the nearly full glass of water that has been sitting on the coffee table for the better part of the evening.

While watching him drink, and in spite of the fire he stirred in me I can feel how exhausted I am myself. He’s here now. We have nothing but time, and I’d rather have him sober before we do anything else.

To find out what happens next, take a look at Morning After.

First Day at Work

This is part two in a longer story, please read The Job Interview first.

For these past two weeks it seemed as though time was moving at a crawl. The job promises to be the usual 9-to-5 drudgery but I can hardly contain my excitement. The reason is of course the prospect of working with Jonathan, I wonder if my memory could be deceiving me. I suppose I’ll find out soon enough if he’s really as gorgeous as I recall.

My buzzing phone brings me back to reality. A text message from my best friend, Jase. “Best of luck, girl. Go kick some ass!”

It makes me smile. Of course he remembered, I haven’t been able to shut up about this job ever since the interview. Well, not about the job, but about the guy. Same thing really.

Now, what to wear… After pulling out nearly half the contents of my wardrobe and dumping it on the bed I settle on a slightly too tight plum pencil skirt and a cowl neck black pullover. A tad more conservative than my usual style, but I wouldn’t want to fall foul of any yet to be discovered dress code. Plus there is still that sleazy idiot, Dick Porter to contend with. A pair of back seam tights and heels should do nicely to keep things interesting.

I’m 15 minutes early coming out of the elevator at my new office. Most of the desks are still empty, as is the office in the corner.  I’m guessing Dick doesn’t take punctuality to extremes himself. Good.

I hesitate a bit on the office floor, looking around for any familiar faces. Sharon –  Dick’s assistant – is just now walking into the office as well. She is quite imposing, a bit taller than me and slightly heavier build as well as impeccably dressed. There appears to be an air of self importance surrounding her, but I don’t want to judge too quickly and give her a friendly smile.

“Hello, I’m Cath. We met two weeks ago when I came in for my interview. Today is my first day..”

“Oh yes, Catherine. Richard isn’t in yet, he’ll be here at nine. Why don’t you take a seat over there -“ Her tone sounds authoritative but polite. “- and make yourself comfortable.” She gestures towards the right side of the office where I already expected to be sitting.

“Thanks,” I mutter while looking around anxiously for Jonathan. There is a backpack lying on what I remember to be his desk but he’s not around. So I put my stuff on the desk right next to him and sit down to wait. If there was any way I could be more nervous than I already had been since last night, now would be the time.

“Hi.” His baritone voice behind me makes me jump up instantly.  It sounds pleasantly warm but slightly raspy as though he’s fighting a cold.

“Err, Hi. I’m Cath Davies. I mean my full name is Catherine but nobody actually calls me that. They tell me I’m going to be working with you…” I babble, my nerves already getting the better of me.  I look at his face while offering my hand to greet him formally. Gorgeous as I remembered. But in spite of the rose tinted specs which are currently clouding my vision, I can’t ignore that he looks tired. His formerly flawless face is showing the signs of stress or sadness, I’m not sure which. Grey circles under his eyes are the most obvious indicator, paired with slightly puffy eyelids. Even his skin tone has changed from the healthy subtle tan I remember to ashen and dull. I fight the urge to stare, my fingers itching to reach up and touch his face.

“Yes indeed. I’m John Hall,” he says as we shake hands.  His hand slightly colder than mine but strong, it takes a lot of willpower to let go..

I hold my breath to fight my nerves and look into his eyes momentarily. They’re a warm shade of amber, but at the same time betray more than the rest of his appearance has already done. Tired and empty. Looking into them feels like a stab right through the heart, forcing me to look away again.

I dare not look make eye contact again all morning while he is giving me the introduction on all the systems I’m supposed to be using. There is no hint of small talk, only work and even then he is a man of few words.

Whenever I glance at his face, I notice he’s consistently avoiding the sight of me. If he’s not looking at the computer screen, he’s leafing through the mountain of papers on his desk. Now I’m not expecting every man to act like Dick – pervert – Porter and shamelessly ogle my boobs all day (I can only imagine how he’s looking at me while I’ve got my back turned). But to avoid looking in my direction completely is another unusual extreme. And it’s especially frustrating because I really want him to notice me.

While John busies himself with some papers in the filing cabinet behind his desk, I allow my eyes to wander. Ever since I could remember I’ve liked men with a bit of meat on them. I don’t quite understand it, I don’t have any identifiable reason for this preference. But I’ve long given up trying to analyse myself. All I know is, I want to feel his soft skin under my fingertips. I want his belly brushing against me as he leans down for a kiss. I want…

“So,” says a familiar voice behind me, shattering the devious fantasy I had started to play out in my head, “how are you enjoying your first day?” Dick. His presence makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and not in a good way.

“Great,” I say, “there’s so much to learn.”

“Good, good. Carry on!” I can hardly suppress a sigh of relief as he stalks off towards another cluster of desks.

“What time is lunch?” I turn to ask John.

“10 minutes.”

The lunchroom is spacious and bright. There is a buffet of sandwiches on offer and a suspicious looking “Soup of the day”. I buy myself a ham and cheese sandwich and join a group of women who are already sitting and chatting at one of the two large tables. There is no sign of John.

“Hi, I’m Cath. I’ve just started today,” I introduce myself as the 7 or so women give me the visual once over. The only one I’ve already met is Sharon, who gestures at me to sit down next to her.

“Catherine, join us. I’ll introduce everyone.” She’s smiling at me but her eyes look guarded. Maybe my first impression was correct after all, looks like she is the big gun of office politics. Sharon quickly rattles through the names of everyone at the table.

“This is Linda, Shelley, Jessica, Miranda, Heidi and Jackie.”
I nod at them before taking a seat.

“So, Cath. How do you like Aspect so far?” The woman further along the table asks, I think her name is Miranda but I’m not entirely sure. Her smile seems a tad more genuine than Sharon’s, but perhaps she’s just a better actress.

“Oh, it seems nice. Of course I’m just overwhelmed at all the new things I’m supposed to learn.”

“Right. So you’ve been paired with John,” she says.  I can detect a hint of contempt as she speaks his name.  “How’s that going?”

“Fine… He seems knowledgeable,” I say.

“He should be, he spends more time here than at home. Sometimes I wonder if he has a bed hidden in the office supply room,” one of the others buts in. The group laugh in response.

I smile politely and eat my food. The group moves on to other topics such as TV talent shows and Big Brother. Exactly the type of things I have nothing to say about.


Fucking great. Not only have the past two weeks been hell, now that moron Richard has me train his insufferable new recruit.

I had caught a glimpse of her from behind as she arrived for her interview. Exactly Richard’s type. Long legs leading up to probably the greatest ass ever to have set foot in this building. I’m sure she’ll fit right in with Sharon and her gang, so why couldn’t one of them train her?

This whole thing must be his idea of a joke, parading her in front of me for a few days before swooping in for the kill. She will most definitely go for it too, they always do.

I hadn’t even seen her up close until this morning. She’s his ultimate check list personified; gorgeous figure, curves in just the right places, obvious underneath the slightly clingy outfit she’s wearing. And her face…  I am not the type of guy who tends to objectify women, far from it. But this one- I can’t even look at her without having to fight one physical reaction or other. So I’ve been trying my best to ignore her. I just want to get this training over with, preferably without making a total ass of myself.

I look at my watch, lunchtime is almost over. Back to the grind… Quickly I hide the bottle of vodka behind the stack of unused copier paper.

When I get to my desk she is already sitting at her computer, peering at the screen with intense focus. I sit down and retrieve the sheet with today’s training topics from the mess on my desk. The letters are blurring a little, but I can just about manage. At least I’ve managed to numb myself a bit. Here goes nothing…

“Let’s continue, shall we?” I say, wishing for the day to just end.

I’ve just added a new part to this story – At Last They Meet, admittedly skipping some bits to get there. If you want the full thing, you’ll just have to wait until the book is ready 😉

Not Enough – II

Note: Please read 1 August 2006 and Not Enough – I first to get the full story.

2 August 2012. Another day, a fresh start? I’m not sure I believe in that cliché but I do feel a little better today. At least I’ve had a good night’s sleep. My alarm hasn’t yet gone off but that’s only a matter of 5 minutes. Not too shabby considering I am currently reconsidering my entire life.

Of course he’s still asleep, looking at him makes me smile. Would I want to give this up? Not really. I like waking up next to him. To have someone I can cuddle with when I’ve had a bad dream. Someone who will make fun at me when I am being my stupid clumsy self; making me laugh when I’ve stubbed my toe hard on the coffee table leg. Again. He has an odd way of showing his love for me at the best of times but I know he’s sincere.

But I AM jealous. Why? I wish I was a stronger, more confident person. (I also wish I was 3 dress sizes slimmer, had bigger boobs and didn’t have two left feet, alas I can’t have everything!)

I turn towards him and half asleep he hugs me and I press my face into his bare chest. His scent is intoxicating, as it’s always been.  I hug him back and run my hand over his shoulders and back. Almost immediately he moves closer, pressing his hips against me. I can feel that he’s ready. He usually is in the morning. Nevermind, strike that last part. He usually is, the horny bastard. His eyes open slowly and he looks at me half sleepy half aroused.

“Morning” I kiss him softly and he responds by returning the kiss deeply and passionately. His tongue runs over my teeth, plays with the tip of mine and he pulls me closer into his embrace. A kiss like this can only mean one thing, he wants me. Or does he really? Does he want me or do I just happen to be convenient at this time?

We kiss some more as he runs his hand over my back, down to my ass.  He grabs a handful and squeezes it firmly. I quickly try to shake off my negative thoughts, I can do without the mindfuck right now! Let’s just focus on what’s in front of me. As he presses into me slowly but firmly I can feel he’s fully erect. He feels so good, his body moulded against mine, I want more. I guide his hand up over my hips and side to my breasts. He loves fondling them, playing with my nipples. In fact he can grope like an overeager teenager even now while in his thirties. It tickles like hell when I’m not in the mood. But right now, I’m loving it.

I run my hand in a circular motion over his ass cheek, down over the back of his thigh and around his hip until I’m caressing his cock slowly. His whole body shudders as I touch him there. He moans softly and presses his face into the side of my neck, kissing and softly sucking the skin  in that special spot where it is most sensitive. It gives me goose bumps every single time. I may not feel the same passion for him as in the beginning, but he certainly does not leave me cold either. Already, I am getting moist between my thighs.

“I love you,” he whispers in my ear, “don’t ever leave me…”

Oh he knows how to charm the pants off a woman, the player!

“Take me then, I’m all yours!” I moan.

I wiggle out of my panties as I turn onto my back. He quickly takes off his PJ bottoms, letting his fully erect cock spring forward, pointing right at me. It knows exactly where it wants to go! He gets on top of me, kissing me deeply again. I can feel my breathing changing, and he hasn’t even entered me yet. I grab his cock, it is rock hard in my hand as I squeeze my hand the way he likes it. Irresistible silky soft skin. He comes closer, so I can almost guide him inside me but holds back. He loves to tease. All I can manage is to brush his foreskin against my now dripping wet lips. Round and round a few times, it excites him as much as it does me. I want it in me so badly but he won’t let me have it yet. He loves to watch me squirm.

“Oh please, what are you waiting for?” I plead. He just looks at me and smiles wickedly. Nothing can wake him up as quickly as the prospect of sex.

“Why, what do you want?” Of course, he’s toying with me. That’s what he does. It’s what he enjoys.

“You, in me, now!” I breathe. I can hardly take it, he’s so close to me and yet it feels so far away.  He’s supposed to be all mine, and that bitch he’s been talking to can go to hell for all I care.

Finally he gives in, lowers himself down. He feels so big as he enters me that I can’t help but cry out.

“Ohhh yes!” I grab both his ass cheeks and pull him deep into me.

He complies and I can feel him filling me up completely. Any bigger and it would be painful, any smaller and I doubt I’d be satisfied.  The first few strokes are slow and gentle, but quickly he’s picking up pace. I am still holding on to him and pulling him into me all the way.  I look up at him and he looks gorgeous, his messy shoulder length hair frames his face and his eyes seem like they’re burning into my soul. He can certainly be difficult to read, doesn’t like to express his feelings, except during sex. Then he comes to life.

There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he looks at me. By now he’s moving faster, pounding me, encouraged by my fingers digging into his skin. He leans in for another deep kiss, this time it’s wilder, messier. But he doesn’t stop moving. I grind my hips upwards to meet his, finding my rhythm , getting ever wetter and more slippery. As I tighten myself, stimulating his full length inside me with every movement I can tell he’s getting closer to match my excitement. I moan with anticipation, grinding faster, tightening more.
“Oh baby, fuck me harder!”

I catch a glimpse of him still staring at me, a subtle smile on his face. My eyes close involuntarily and my neck arches backwards. He’s really picked up speed now, he’s fucking my brains out and I love it. I’m so close, it feels amazing. I contract and release my pelvic muscles again and again until I feel the warm tingling sensation of an orgasm envelop me completely.

“Ahhh! I’m yours, take me with all you’ve got!” By now I have very little control over my muscles, I try to keep up with his rhythm grinding my hips, but I miss a few beats as I’m trembling with the aftershocks of my orgasm. He’s slamming into me hard now, again and again and suddenly he freezes as his cock inside of me twitches violently and he releases. He’s fully tensed up and I’m still holding on to his hips, now I’m grinding against him with newfound energy, trying to make this moment last just a little bit longer.

As he catches his breath he’s still got a glimmer in his eyes “Waking me for sex? Hmmm?”

I feign innocence. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, I was sleeping…”

We’ve just got time for a quick shower each before rushing to work.

Sex on a working day morning isn’t all that common, though it does happen every other week or so. In fact I don’t feel our sex life is all that bad considering we’re not newlyweds anymore. We manage a few times a week mostly, but I guess it’s too much of the same old moves for him. I like the idea of being adventurous, but not the reality. And I rarely make the first move. I know he dislikes this about me, but before him I could happily go without sex for months. Or at all. This is a huge change from the old me and he knows it.

But I guess it’s not enough.

The day is not very memorable from then onwards. After work we cuddle up on the sofa and watch some TV. My mind is elsewhere though, mulling over everything that’s happening. I want him to be happy, and if that means letting go a bit and giving him more freedom, perhaps that’s the right thing to do… After all we did talk about this before, the rational part in me agrees with him.

“I’ve got a few rules,” I interrupt the TV, “Not in our bed. I don’t want to come home and have our bed smell of someone else.”

He nods.“Alright… I don’t think I’d want to bring her here anyway.”

“And you don’t make me feel secondary – ever.”

“I would never. ”

“You wear a condom. And you tell me immediately if it’s more than just sex…”

We’re both quiet for a few minutes. “Does she know that I know?”

“No, our relationship is none of her business,” he says.

I quietly start watching TV again. He puts his arm around me and caresses my hair as I lean it against his shoulder.

“Oh, The Fugitive is on, we haven’t seen that for a while..” His seemingly innocent remark makes me chuckle. They’ve been showing that film every day for a week now.

“You do know you’re the only one for me, right? Who else would put up with me watching the same shitty movies over and over… Who else do I talk to? Thanks for letting me be myself.” He whispers. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. Maybe it’ll work out this way.

While we get ready for bed, his phone buzzes a few more times.

“I said good night already, pesky woman!” He mutters under his breath.

Is the appeal waning already? 23 days to go…

Continue to Not Enough – III

Not Enough – I

Note: This really needs to be read after my previous blog entry 1 August 2006 which serves as a prologue to this true story.

It’s the 1st of August 2012, 25 days left until my husband is going to fuck another woman.

He’s asleep next to me but I am awake, confused. I can’t help but stare into the darkness, my eyes welling up again and again. It feels like I’ve been lying here like this for hours, my head is throbbing as I keep trying to swallow the urge to cry. And the stupid thing is I’m not sure why I’m so upset. I’ve always considered myself to be rational and open minded. I’ve never fully understood the limitations our society imposes on relationships, why one should be monogamous. Why not live for the day, enjoy life and follow your desires?

We’ve had this discussion a number of times, even before we became a couple we spoke about how couples with open relationships or open marriages have it all figured out. Only the lucky few manage to find a partner who is totally compatible in every way even sexually.  And whether or not the relationship survives this incompatibility depends on your priorities I suppose.

Until very recently I would’ve said we’re happily married. Of course we argue – viciously even. With the kind of rage that can only be ignited in people who have felt real passion for one another.  But I wouldn’t have thought this was odd in any way, after all we’ve been married nearly five years. And we’re both extremely stubborn people. Until recently I would’ve said we were content, used to each other’s strange habits, finding common ground often in our varied likes and dislikes. But he’s not content. We’re just not compatible in the bedroom.

The topic has come up so often I’ve lost count. He knew very well what he was getting himself into because I’d told him beforehand about my relationship with my ex. It resembled more of a platonic friendship towards the end. We hardly had sex, we had hardly experimented with anything, I was pretty inexperienced.

Then along comes this passionate man, who knows what he likes and takes it, often. He could probably go for days without food if he was given enough “distraction”. In the beginning of our relationship sparks would fly whenever we spent time together. Our hormones went absolutely wild and we could not keep our hands off each other. Over time this passion ebbed away, but only from my side. I have no doubt that he could still keep up the same level of lust. He wants things in the bedroom that I cannot provide. I can’t be ready and willing all the time. It’s not that I reject him every time he’s in the mood, but I guess he notices that I’m not as much into it as he is.

So when he told me two days ago, that he’s been texting with one of his colleagues – flirting – it wasn’t all that surprising. Apparently she has similar tastes, and she’s in a relationship of her own with a man who’s not all that into sex. Little things like that don’t tend to wind me up. I don’t care if he looks at other women, watches porn or chats to his ex online even. In fact the latter I find highly amusing, how could a former couple be any more different.

I trust him completely; he’s never given me a reason not to. But then he said “You know how you keep telling me I should find someone else to fill the gap in our sex lives… She’s home alone on the 25th…”. I kept quiet but my feelings were written on my face.

Now this early morning on the 1st of August, I feel lost and sad. I don’t quite understand what’s happening.

He’s right; I did tell him! I told him numerous times. Sometimes in anger when he’d get frustrated that I wasn’t receptive to his advances. Sometimes in despair when we’d calmly talk about his needs not being met. I didn’t think you’d actually DO it! I also said I wouldn’t want to know about it!

I should have known. He’s painfully honest; can’t keep a secret. He’s told me over and over that he wouldn’t lie to me or hide anything from me. He’s not like me at all, in comparison I feel like I’m full of secrets. I’m going to need time to digest this information.

It didn’t quite strike me until 3:30 am, when I woke up – eyes wide open . Shit, he’s actually going to go ahead with this!  I wipe my tears away with a corner of the duvet for the umpteenth time. Damn, I’m sure my eyelids will have ballooned up after all these tears. I try and soothe my eyes with the back of my hands, listening to his deep and regular breathing next to me. I settle back into my pillow and try to relax to make the thumping pain in my head go away. I’m exhausted and slowly drift away.

*Beep beep beep beep..*

My eyes open again, the alarm! Already! I look over and he’s still asleep, he has no idea I just spent hours crying over something that was basically my idea. I drag myself out of bed to get ready before it’s his turn. Today is going to be long and tiring, my headache is still here, and as I glance in the mirror – yes indeed. My eyelids are huge, reddish and my eyes are watery. I look quite pathetic indeed.

“Wake up sleepyhead!” He groans and turns away, eyes closed. “Come on wake up!”

I shake him a bit until he wakes. I quickly get off the bed again and walk off to continue getting ready.

“You’ve made my eyes puffy, I look hideous and it’s all your fault!” I shout while brushing my hair. I can hear him getting up and stretching; he walks over and looks at me.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been crying?”  I swallow hard and look at the floor. “You’re jealous!”

I can’t bear to look up, or the waterworks are bound to start again.

“I don’t know” I whisper. He hugs me tightly – unusual considering he can be the grumpiest person on earth in the morning. Not just that, he generally doesn’t tend to be overly affectionate at all.

“You know I only love you! It’s only sex… You were the one who told me!” His voice sounds soft, again unusual.

“I know I did, I’m not quite sure why I’m upset.”

“You are jealous, aren’t you! Look, I love only you. Before you, I didn’t believe in marriage, I never wanted to spend my life with anyone. You’ve changed me and I’m happier for it.”

“I know…” I can feel the tears coming back. He hates it when I cry but I really can’t help it.  “I just… I’m confused. There is just this conflict going on inside of me. I’ve been trying to think all morning. And I can’t quite put my finger on it yet.”

It’s true, I really still don’t quite understand. I truly believed I could be more mature about this. I love him and I want him to be happy. He likes sex, a lot. Why can’t I think of it as a hobby? But a lifetime of cultural brainwashing apparently can’t be undone because at the same time another voice in my head says: You deserve better! This is the beginning of the end.

“Nothing will change between us, I need you to know that! I will always want you.” He’s holding me again and I bury my face in his chest. Oh but it has already changed hasn’t it. I didn’t feel this sad before!

My drive to work that morning isn’t any better. In the car I’m more preoccupied with this inner struggle than paying attention to the traffic. Just another day at the office lies ahead. Luckily a lot of people are on holiday so there are not many around to scrutinise why my face is patchy and bloated today. I just get on with it and ignore my colleagues for the most part.

But I just can’t shake the heavy feeling in my chest, the lump in my throat that just tries to travel upwards with every breath; the burning sensation in my eyes which are about to flood again. I realise that I have felt this before. It reminds me of 6 years ago, when I decided to leave my ex. Even though I didn’t have feelings for him anymore, in fact I was extremely unhappy for the last year or so, I did feel an immense sadness, a sense of loss I guess. The crying had gone on for days and I was petrified of being alone. But I couldn’t be with him anymore either. After dragging out my decision for months, our breakup was final. We didn’t stay in touch.

Is this where we’re headed? Do I need to cry my eyes out now for days, weeks? Will this calm down the battle within me until the only voice left inside my head is the one telling me to walk away? It certainly would be easier to try and cut myself off from all emotions and shut the door on this part of my life. Five years is a good run. A lot of people don’t make it this far. But I’m not ready to be a soon-to-be 27 year old divorcee. I’m not ready to give up.

It’s 5 o’clock and I wonder whether I should go shopping in order to avoid home for as long as I can. In the end I decide against it, I’m exhausted and shopping wouldn’t cheer me up anyway.  As I reach home I try to avoid eye contact.

“Hi, how was your day?” I ask.

“Oh, same old. Some customer giving me grief.”

“Yeah me too.” I quickly walk to the kitchen to cook. At least I can hide in here for a while. I try to listen to the TV to distract me from my thoughts. I just don’t want to cry anymore.

Thank god for the TV. Until I sort out the mess in my head I have nothing to say anyway. His phone is buzzing on the table; he responds to the text. I try and ignore it as I quietly eat my dinner.

We go to bed at about 11, I’m exhausted from all the emotional turmoil inside me and as I drift away I think, 24 days to go…

Continue to Not Enough – II for more.

1 August 2006 (Prologue)

There are four of us in the bed. The room is dark and stuffy. I can hear my boyfriend snoring to my right. He’ll be my ex boyfriend soon, but he doesn’t know it yet. I lie completely still, on my back, willing myself to get comfortable and sleep but there isn’t much space. Honestly it sounds better than it is, four of us, two girls in the centre of the bed, two guys on the outer edges.

We’re in Ladakh, India, on a motorcycle tour with our local club. We got this room together to save money, standard procedure would be that two sleep on the floor in sleeping bags and two take the bed.  But it’s been a long day and we are tired and stubborn. Nobody wanted to back down and take the floor.

My boyfriend and I have been arguing almost continuously for the past few months – not in a normal amusing old couple sort of way. My school friend who is just visiting me in India has been enduring our vicious bickering for two weeks now while she stayed with us in preparation for this trip.

The other guy in the bed is a close friend; member of the same motorcycle club. One of the few people I can openly talk to even though we’ve only known each other a matter of months. They’re having a little holiday fling. No strings attached she says; Use ‘n’ throw as another club member eloquently put it. It annoys me, but I don’t know why. Maybe I’m just jealous that they’re having a bit of fun whereas I’m deeply unhappy in my own relationship? I feel a sting deep inside when she has her hands all over him and yet he’s all too willing…

They’re stirring next to me, she’s pressed up against my left due to the lack of space so even the most subtle movements are obvious to me. How dare they! Making out with others in the same room, the same bed even! I’m still lying on my back, eyes closed, trying to ignore them, but it really pisses me off.

For what seems like an eternity, they’re preoccupied with each other. It’s as if they don’t realise I’m here too, her ass pressed against my hip. I’m so angry it takes all my energy to keep quiet and not put an end to their fun. But at the same time a heat I’ve not felt before is rushes through my body and starts making me slightly sweaty. With it comes a tingly feeling rising up from between my thighs into the lower part of my stomach. It’s alien to me, I squeeze my eyes shut while trying to make sense of this inner conflict.

Suddenly I feel a soft caress on my left hand which is just resting on my pillow. Butterflies swarm inside of me; my heart skips a few beats and I try not to gasp for air. I run my fingers over the hand that has come creeping closer across the pillow. Our fingers entangled, playing, teasing. This excitement, it’s novel and unexpected. My head swims as the anger I had felt only moments earlier washes off me. It’s hard not to draw attention to myself; restless, flushed and struggling for composure. I only hope my soon-to-be-ex doesn’t wake up…

She moves next to me roughly at arm level, but it’s too dark to know for sure. Almost immediately the invading hand freezes. The pieces fall into place.  If both her hands are on him, then this spare hand must belong to…

I stroke his hand with my index finger, still overcome, yet eager for more. A smile playing on my lips as he’s encouraged to continue our little game. He reaches closer, his fingers now tracing my features one by one. I suppress a moan as he travels further down. His fingertips softly running along my chin and neck, down over my shoulder. He hesitates a little but continues down and I don’t stop him as he tenderly traces the outline of my breasts through the blanket at first before making his way under cover.

Through the deafening rush of lust coursing through my head I can just barely make out my boyfriend’s regular snore. Even my girlfriend seems to have relaxed and settled into sleep. For a fleeting moment we’re alone in the room. His hand moves up again to my face, I softly steal a kiss on his knuckles and drift off into a blissful sleep.


“What was that…?” His eyebrows bunched together in an inquisitive frown; last night feels like a bizarre dream. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

I can’t look at him, so I keep staring at my plate of food. I knew this conversation would happen sooner or later, but we hadn’t had a moment alone so far. Honestly, I don’t know what to say, I have no clue what came over me last night! It’s awkward. We’ve always been honest and I’ve told him things I haven’t even told my boyfriend. But now… I try to shake the lingering emotions of last night and finally look up at him.

“I don’t know, you both were enjoying yourselves, I was awake and it was really pissing me off, and your hand … “ I look down again and take a deep breath. God I hope the others don’t come back to overhear this conversation. “… I felt angry but also turned on, and your hand. It felt nice. So I played with it.” Finally, I’ve said it. I’ve admitted my confusion; we’re back to being honest. I’ve never before noticed the depth in his dark brown eyes. I could drown in your eyes. The thought unsettles me more and I force myself to look away again.

He remains silent, I guess he’s as confused as I am. I recall a conversation we had two days ago, when I was riding pillion on his motorcycle for a few hours and my boyfriend was carrying my school friend on his for a while. I had told him my decision, how unhappy I was with my boyfriend. And that I might as well move back to Europe after breaking up with him. He seemed shocked but I couldn’t put my finger on why.  I tried to change the topic by asking him about his holiday fling with my school friend. “Oh you know, it’s ok.” He had shrugged. “But I’m not that attracted to her. We have nothing to say to each other. I don’t care that much for looks, but attraction can only exist where there is an emotional connection, you know. This… it’s just sex.” – Surely not? We talk for hours, laugh at the same jokes, pour our hearts out to each other. Was he trying to say he’s attracted to me that day on the bike?

My thoughts are interrupted by the return of my (soon-to-be-ex) boyfriend and a few more club members who also settle down at the table for lunch. More food is ordered and soon everyone is engaged in all sorts of conversations. Some of the guys at my table can’t help but stare as another group of tourists comes into the restaurant and sits down at the other end of the room. There’s a girl with them; pretty, flawless olive skin, big eyes, prefect figure, wavy dark brown hair framing her perfect features.

“Wow” I my friend’s voice next to me “She’s hot. That has got to be the second most pretty face I’ve ever seen!”  Second? It’s as if he can feel my quizzing look in the back of his head, he turns to me. Nobody is paying attention, they’re all looking at the girl across the room.

“You’re the first.” He whispers at me. The strange feeling from last night makes a comeback as I nearly drop the forkful of food I’m holding and stare at him in shock. Shit! He’s got to be kidding!


“What are you thinking about?” His soft, kind voice brings me back to reality, away from my daydream.

“Oh I was thinking about you and your grabby hands. And the girl at the restaurant.” I smile at him, drinking in the longing and slightly worried look in his eyes. How had I overlooked this? How had I not melted away every time I saw his handsome face until a few days ago? He is perfect, masculine and strong but with a certain sadness and insecurity in him which I now find impossible to resist.

“Promise me something..” His voice sounds small.


“Don’t ever leave me. Since my ex I haven’t let anyone close to me. These few days have been amazing and it would kill me if I lost this. If I lost you.”

There is so much pain in his eyes I can hardly take it.

“Never” I whisper as I kiss him. “I’ve been telling myself not to say this to you yet, that it might scare you away because it’s too soon. But… “ I kiss him again, bursting with the overwhelming urge to take all his worries away. “I love you.”

He stops kissing me and for a moment I panic. Oh no, I’ve said it too soon! This sort of stuff freaks men out!

But instead of running he pushes me onto my back and gets on top of me, pressing hungrily against me. “I love you too.” His kiss is deep and full of passion and despair at the same time. It brings tears to my eyes as I’m overwhelmed by his need for me. I run my hands over his side and he starts to tremble at my touch. He shudders as I gently brush over his growing erection.

“Ohh” his groan is suppressed but I worry that we’ll be overheard. My (ex) boyfriend  and school friend are in the other room watching TV. We had retreated claiming to be tired. I don’t think they have any idea…

“Love me!” I gasp in his ear. “Please I want to feel you everywhere!”

“Not yet, not here. Our first time will be back home.” It feels like he’s torturing me, but he’s right. What we’re doing is so wrong although it doesn’t feel it. At the very least we should wait a little before making love. And although the fate of our breakup had been sealed for a few days now, I have yet to actually tell my (ex) boyfriend…

While I pleasure him with my hand, he is quivering above me, running his left hand deliciously over my body, discovering places he hasn’t ventured before. He stiffens, muffling his voice in the pillow as he comes, hard, in my hand. I love the effect I seem to have on him. I feel satiated myself, lying back in the bed, waiting for him to clean up and return to me.

He lies down in my arms, his head on my chest and I hold him tight while softly playing with his hair. There is nowhere I’d rather be right now.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice is even more tense and uncertain.


“I mean, not now or anything, but I need to know.”

I’m intrigued and nervous.

“Would you marry me… You know, eventually?”

“Yes,” I reply in an instant. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. He is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. “Tomorrow if you want to.”

A sigh of relief escapes his mouth as he puts his arm around me as if to pull himself deeper into my embrace.

“I always have trouble sleeping but in your arms I can relax. I’m so glad we found each other.” Indeed, we’re just two desperate people who were lucky to find each other.

His eyes close and within minutes he drifts off. Carefully I get my arm out from underneath him so we’re not discovered like this. I curl up in the sleeping bag on the floor and fall asleep as well, listening to the reassuring sound of his deep, regular breathing coming from the bed. I can hardly believe he’s mine.

This was the introduction to a bigger story I’m working on. Please continue to Not Enough – I