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The Trouble With Kate

By: Cactus Jack



(Note : This is a genuinely true story. Kate is my girlfriend and we have lived together for just over a year. All the situations that follow actually happened as written. Above everything, she is the one who grinds my gears for me. No one else even comes close. I might occasionally write about other women, but she is the one that I desire and curl up to late at night. When reading this story, it helps if you are familiar with my other work. This one is for you baby. I love ya.)

* * * * *

The ringing of the town clock snapped my concentration, and I looked up from the screen. It was just gone Ten, no wonder my eyes were stinging; I had been writing solidly for the last five hours. I grasped the beer bottle and swallowed the remains, grimacing at the lukewarm taste. Probably been sitting there for an hour and I hadn't even noticed.

I stretched and stood, feeling the muscles pop in my back, and wandered out of the small second bedroom that I had converted into my office. Across the hallway I could hear the splashing of water from behind the bathroom door, and I knocked gently before opening it.

Kate was in the bath, and the water was covered with a sea of thick bubbles. Her head rose from them at one end and her toes from the other. Her fine blonde hair was smoothed back away from her face and her eyes were shut. The room was illuminated by candles, which ran symphonies of shadows across the tiles, and the small Compact Disc player was playing The Cocteau Twins at a low volume. She was bobbing her feet to the music, sending small ripples across the water.

'You okay, honey?' I asked softly.

She half opened one eye and looked at me. 'Perfect. This feels like heaven after the day I've had.'

'Get you anything?'

'I could go for a glass of wine.'

I closed the door gently behind me and padded down the hallway into the kitchen. I left the lights off and worked by the light of the fridge door, and fished out another bottle of Michelob for myself and some chilled white for Kate. I popped the top and took a generous mouthful of the beer, feeling a satisfying jolt of cold as the liquid hit my gut. The rain was lashing hard against the window, and I took a minute to look out over Chelsea from the fifth floor window. The lights of the city lay before me like a sprinkle of Diamonds on black satin, and in the distance I could see the Thames, with Tower Bridge and The London Eye glowing on the horizon. Even at this height, and through the heavy glass, I could still hear the sounds of the city below me. London and it's suburbs never rested. It was a cold winter's night and I was glad to be indoors. Just looking outside made me shiver, and I lowered the blinds, happy to shut the world out.

I returned to the bathroom with my beer and an almost full glass for Kate. Inside the air was heavy with steam and the smell of the candles, and the sounds had changed to U2. I sat on the edge of the bath and handed the glass to her. She wiped the moisture away from her face as she sat up slightly to drink, and as she did her small, pink nipples rose up through the bubbles, the surrounding skin of her breasts shining with the combination of water and candlelight.

'Oh, that tastes good,' she murmered. 'Think I might have had this water a little too hot.'

'Feels okay to me,' I answered, letting the water trickle through my fingers as I swept my hand under the surface and along the length of her thigh.

'Still working?' She said.

I nodded. 'Yeah. I'm nearly there, but I just can't seem to get a satisfying conclusion. Need a good way to wrap it up.'

'Why don't you leave it for tonight. You look tired.'

I yawned loudly as a reply. 'I think I will. Look at it first thing in the morning. I'll go and shut everything down.' I stood up, but before I could leave Kate stopped me.

'Give me a kiss before you go.'

I leant over the bath and kissed her lightly on the forehead, and she shot out a hand a grabbed the collar of my shirt, pulled me down close to her face. Her blue eyes were still as wonderous to me as the first day I had ever looked into them.

'Kiss me properly,' she whispered, lifting her face towards mine and her wet hand sliding around the back of my neck. Our lips connected and I felt her tongue push into my mouth to search out my tongue. Her mouth tasted of fresh water and wine, and I kissed her deeply, my arm dipping into the water to run around her back and up her spine. When we parted it was only for a distance of a few millimetres.

'Why don't you go and save your work, and then jump in here with me.'

I smiled and nodded, stood once more and exited the bathroom. The sleeve and neck of my shirt were now sodden, and I threw it into the whicker basket that we kept in the corner of the bedroom. The flat was warm so I remained bare-chested as I returned to my office. After all, with the suggestion that my girl had just made to me I didn't intend to have any clothes on within the next few minutes.

I'd been working on an article about the legendary New York punk group The Ramones, a piece which was due on the desk of the editor of Classic Rock magazine for Friday morning. It was now Wednesday night and I had wanted to email it to him that day, but as I had said to Kate, I was struggling to come up with a good closing paragraph. Still, I could sort that in the morning. I backed up the file and closed down the application then threw my badly scrawled notes into the top draw of my desk.

I was literally just a moment away from shutting down my PC and diving into the bath when windows kindly informed me that an email had arrived. My hand hovered over the power switch, and I almost hit it, then remembered that I had been waiting for confirmation of an acceptance for an article that I had done for a national newspaper. The feature would be worth both good money and some valuable kudos on my resume, so I sat down on the edge of my seat and opened the mailbox.

It wasn't from the paper, and I cursed. Nothing more than a few lines from a reader who had stumbled across one of my stories at a website called Literotica. I'd been enjoying some of the erotic fiction that was posted upon the site, and after a couple of months of myself and Kate reading some of the tales that I'd printed off (which had also led to some fantastic sex), I decided to post something of my own. That had happened a couple of weeks ago, and since then I had been recieving some feedback from readers, some good, some bad, all of it interesting. Any writer is always keen to have opinions cast upon their work, and I was no exception. 

The sender of this particular email had enjoyed my story up to a point, but thought that the ending basically fizzled away to nothing. Fair enough. Although I didn't agree with that opinion, I could accept it. What pissed me off though was when the sender pointed out that my story contained several grammatical errors. I closed the mail application down with gritted teeth. How could I have been so stupid as to not proof-read what I had submitted? No wonder that the newspaper wasn't replying; a group of copy-writers were probably sitting around their office in a circle and laughing hysterically at my work, before taking turns to wipe their arse on it.

I snapped the PC off and lifted a file from one of the desk drawers, rummaging around until I had found the story in question. I leafed through the pages and did indeed see the offending errors, so glaringly obvious to me now that someone had pointed them out. Grabbing my marker, I started to make corrective notes in the margins; although this story was never going to be published anywhere but the net, the mistakes bugged me, and I wanted to put them right.

Head bent over my desk and deep in concentration, I completely lost track of time and the fact that Kate was waiting for me in the bath. It was only when I heard her approaching the half-open office door that I remembered. There was a small knock and then she walked in. 

'What happened to you?' she said, rubbing a towel through her hair while another one wrapped itself around her body. 'I thought you were coming in?'

I dropped the pen on the desktop. 'I'm sorry babe, just got a little sidetracked. I'm halfway there.' I indicated to my bare torso.'

She shook her head. 'I've let the water drain, it was going cold.' She moved across the room and stood by the desk, looking over my shoulder. 'Must have been pretty important to keep-', she stopped abruptly when she saw what it was that I had been working on. She flipped quickly through the pages and saw my corrections, then dropped it back on the desk, where it landed with a small sigh. I kept quiet.

'I thought you were writing about The Ramones?'

'I was. I am. Someone sent me an email about this and I-'

'You told me it had to be ready for tommorow?'

'It does. It will be. I just got a little sidetracked.'

Kate pulled the towel from her head and let her hair fall loose. It was tangled and damp, and fell around her face and across her shoulders like a blonde rainstorm. Her eyes were bright and I could see the colour in her cheeks, and although I knew she was angry with me I swear she had never looked more beautiful. I reached out to stroke her thigh, maybe even slip my hand up and under the hem of the towel which concealed and yet revealed so much, but she was too fast for me, and moved quickly away infront of the desk.

'You amaze me,' she said. 'There I was, lying in the tub and thinking how hard you must be working, and all the time you're messing around with this...this crap.'

I sighed, exasperatedly. 'It's not like that.'

'What is it like then?'

'It's just fun, that's all. Post a story and see if people like it, maybe even vote for it.'

She leant forward with both hands outsplayed on the desk. The position she was in gave her some great cleavage under the towel, and although I noticed it, I knew now wasn't a good time to comment. 'You've spent more time on that Paris story than anything else in the last few days.'

I didn't have an answer to that, basically because it was true. About four days ago I'd started writing a celebrity based tale based on the actress Virginie Ledoyen, who starred in The Beach, amongst other things. I hadn't reached the sex-part of the story as yet, but I'd been enjoying the build up to it so much that I had been sneaking back to the story whenever possible. To be honest, I'd spent most of the previous day on it, and that was one of the reasons that The Ramones article was still uncompleted. Truth was, I'd been having a much better time on the snow-filled streets of Paris with a gorgeous woman that I had been on the rain-battered streets of New York with a greasy punk outfit. 

'Okay, maybe I have been devoting too much time to it,' I said, 'but I'm enjoying the responses I've been getting. A lot of people wrote to me after they read this story,' I waved my hand at the manuscript on the desk, 'and it's giving me some good encouragement.'

She blew out air and stood with her hands on her hips, fixed me with her best glare. 'Good encouragement doesn't pay the mortgage.'

'Yes, I know that. But we're doing alright.'

'Only because I've just had that promotion. Otherwise we'd be right in it.'

Now it was my turn to sound angry. 'That's not fair and you know it. I've been getting a lot of work recently, good commisions.' That was true. 2002 was looking like it could be my year. Magazine editors were actually seeking work from me, as opposed to me constantly pestering them with my ideas. In addition, my newly acquired agent had been doing some good work hawking my novel around various publishing houses. Some were even starting to ask the right questions.

Kate's face softened. 'I know you have, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.'

'Then what's the problem?'

I love my girlfriend more than I can tell you. It's a cliche, but there really aren't the words to describe my feelings for her. There's nothing I would change about her. But let me tell you, when she becomes angry, it's like standing on the edge of Mount Etna watching an eruption. Imagine sitting on a beach waiting for a tidal wave to hit. That's what watching Kate in anger is like. I saw it now.

'The problem? What's the problem?' She raged. 'The problem is this, all this Literotica thing. Writing erotic sexual fiction for nothing. Why not write and get paid for it?'

'Because I-'

'Oh yes, I know. Because you like it. It's not right, Richard. Calling yourself Cactus Jack and writing stuff about Natalie Portman and this French slut. I don't care if folks are sending you mails telling you how fucking wonderful you are, I don't like it.'

I knew that she was pissed off and meant it. How? One, she called me by my full name, and two, she swore at me. Kate never swore unless she was really upset. I stood up and started to walk around the desk towards her.

'I mean, Cactus Jack! Where the hell did that come from?'

'You know where. He's a wrestler, my all-time favorite.'

'Oh well, it would be. Goddamn wrestling. Goddamn Natalie fucking Portman!'

I placed one of my hands on her shoulder. The skin was soft, still damp from the bath. 'What's bought all this, honey?' I said, softly.

She looked up into my eyes, and I thought for a second she was going to cry. I was just about to put my arms around her when she shrugged my hand off her shoulder aggressively.

'Nothing,' she muttered. 'Nothing at all.'

She stormed out of the office, slamming the door closed behind her. The noise reverberated around the room, and I winced. It was then that I noticed a square of white towel sticking obscenely out of the gap between the door and the frame, and I smiled. Wherever she had gone, it wasn't without her covering.

I gingerly opened the door, expecting another barrel of abuse to be fired, but all I got was an empty hallway and the sticky towel pooled around my feet. I picked it up and bought it close to my face. Kate's natural smell, fresh and vibrant, permeated the material.

I could see a glow coming from the bedroom, and I crossed the hallway and peered into the room. The room was dimly lit with lamps, and our huge, cast-iron bed stood proudly in the middle of the room. Kate was by the open wardrobe, her back to me, so gloriously naked that it almost took my breath away. Her hair tumbled down her back, and the heat of the water had left her skin glowing in the soft light. She stood on tiptoe to reach the top of the wardrobe, and I let my gaze travel up the accentuated muscles of her calves, over her thighs, and finally the rounded shape of her tight bum. She grabbed her robe from the high shelf and turned to face me. Instantly, I could see the anger had left her face to be replaced by sadness, and I moved into the room, dropping the towel by the doorway.

'Honey, what's the matter?' I asked, as softly and caringly as I could. When she didn't answer, just stayed looking at me, I continued;

'It's not the fact that I can't sell that stuff, is it. So, what then?'

She shook her head. 'You'll think it's dumb if I tell you,' she said in a small voice.

'Try me.'

She sat down on the edge of the bed, her robe tossed over the chair in the corner of the room. She patted the duvet and I sat down facing her, wrapping one leg behind her body and drawing her close to me. I took her hand in mine, and she reached up and stroked her fingers over my neck and onto my chest.

'I'm jealous,' she said.

I shook my head, not really understanding. 'What of?'

'Of them, Natalie and the French girl. I know it's only make-believe, but over the last few days I've felt as if you'd rather spend time with them instead of me. Makes me feel like I'm not enough for you.'

I heard her hitch in breath, and I pulled her towards me. She came easily, and I felt the hot skin on her face press into my neck. I stroked her damp hair gently.

'When you didn't come into the bath with me, and I found you with the story, I felt betrayed a little.' I started to say something but she hushed me, looking up at me once again and placing a finger on my lips.

'I know it's stupid, but that's how it felt. It made me feel like I wasn't enough for you, and that made me feel sad.'

That made me feel like crying myself. I swallowed hard and fought against the tears, and then took her face in my hands.

'Listen to me,' I whispered. 'I swear on my life that I would never upset you. Writing that stuff is just for fun, nothing more, and when I do convey my feelings in those stories I'm only relaying emotions that I've had with you. I'm sorry about the bath, I just got distracted. You know what I'm like.'

She smiled and shook her head, the first real smile I had seen since bringing her the glass of wine. I placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

'Yes, it's nice to get those emails of appreciation, but I'd throw it all away, Christ, I'd give up writing and take a job in a factory if it meant I could look into your eyes for a second longer.'

'Do you mean that?'

'You know I do. Kate, you are my reason for getting up in the morning. Love isn't a big enough word for how I feel about you.'

She moved her mouth to mine, and we kissed as deeply as lovers should. I ran my hands up into her hair and twisted my fingers in it as our tongues twisted around each other. Kate started to nibble on my bottom lip as we kissed, our love developing more passion, and before long we were falling back onto the soft bliss of the duvet beneath us. Our mouths still locked, I rolled over onto my back and pulled her with me, and she scrabbled at the belt on my jeans, unfastening the buttons and pushing the denim down my thighs. I could feel the blood throbbing through my erection as she wrapped her hand around it, and I moaned as she started to ease her palm up and down, wanking me slowly, almost painfully. 

Finally, our kiss broke, and I closed my eyes as she trailed her lips over my neck and onto my chest, her tongue running circles over my nipples. I felt her move lower, kissing at my bellybutton, teasing the tops of my thighs with the smallest of kisses. And then, just as I was about to beg, she lowered her soft mouth over the head of my dick, and flicked her tongue up and down the shaft.

As she started to suck me I grabbed her body and pulled her up close. Kate responded by stradling my face, and I gripped her firm buttocks and pulled her down onto me. I raised my head and licked up the length of her soft thigh, before thrusting my tongue deeply into the wet tunnel of her sticky vagina. Her grip on my dick was gone for a moment as she gasped, before I felt her mouth sink over me once more

I alternated my tongue between her labia and her erect clit, circling the little nub of flesh in the way that I knew would bring her off. As I did, I stroked a finger along the crack of her bum, teasing her tight rectum with gentle pushes, before sliding my finger in to the first knuckle. Kate's moans become more frequent, more urgent, and I licked at her furiously while her head bobbed up and down on my aching cock, her hands massaging my swollen balls.

Her thighs shuddered, and I knew she was close to orgasm. I rammed my tongue deep into her and, at the same time, slid my finger deep into her tight bottom. The effect was electric. Kate threw her head away from my cock and let out a cry as her climax came, and I felt her thighs clamp around my head and her hot, sweet come leak out over my lapping tongue. She still managed to jerk me with her hand through this, and the force of her own climax was enough to bring on my own. I swear I could feel the hot semen rush up my shaft, and then I ejaculted hard, jet after jet of come forcing it's way from my body. Kate lowered her head back down and let me come in her mouth, something she doesn't do that often, and when she sucked hard on my sensitive glans it was my turn to cry out.


The Trouble With Kate



We lay there, unable to move, still in the sixty-nine position. Kate's legs had stopped shaking and I stroked her soft buttocks while I licked gently at her wetness, tenderly moving my tongue into her soaking vagina. My erection was subsiding, but she still kissed around the base of my penis, moving it back and forth slowly and running her tongue around my testicles.

'I love how you taste,' I said.

'You're not so bad yourself.'

'I moved my head and managed to look at her, and as I did the embrace was lost. I shifted my position and propped myself up on one elbow and looked down at face. She was lying back on the bed, hair spread around her and a red sexual flush on her neck and breasts. 

'I thought you hated the taste of my come?' I asked.

She grimaced a little. 'I'm not that keen on it, if I'm honest. But I love you, so I don't mind.'

'You might have a little bit left there,' I said, smiling broadly while I indicted to where a small sliver of semen was an inch or so away from her mouth.

'Lick it off, then.'

'Sorry?'

'Lick it off. See what you taste like.'

I lowered my head and licked along the smear of my own semen. Sour, to be honest. 

'You taste better,' I said.

'Do I?' She whispered, and then proceeded to do one of the horniest, sexiest things I have ever seen my girlfriend do. She dipped her index finger into her vagina, pulled it out slick and shining with her own juices, and proceeded to lick it slowly off. Her eyes never once left mine. I was so turned on that I could hardly breathe...

We made love into the night and on through to the early hours of the morning. In between bouts of our passion we laughed and kissed, chased each other aound the apartment like giggling idiots. I grabbed the remains of the wine from the refrigerator and pinned Kate down on the twisted sheets of the bed, then heard her squeal with shock as I poured the cold liquid over her hot skin. Her nipples were hard bullets as I sucked the wine from them, and it wasn't long before I had rolled her over on her front and entered into her from behind. We fucked hard, Kate's screams muffled into the silk pillows as my erection grazed time and again against her sensitive G-Spot. We moved to the scruffy chair that lived in the corner of the bedroom, and she rode me slowly, grinding her hips into mine and grabbing my hair as I gently bit her breasts and kissed her throat. Our bodies were so hot that we opened the window, letting the cold February wind and rain into the room. We moved near the window, not caring if anyone saw us together, and let the rain beat against us, the water almost sizzling on our skins.

Much later on, after I had spread a dry sheet on the bed and rearranged the duvet, we lay warm and snuggled against each other under the covers. The room was dark and peaceful. I was on my back, and Kate lay against me, her head on my chest and a leg wrapped around mine. Her arm circled my waist, stroking my rib-cage softly. I kissed her hair.

'Honey, you awake?'

There was no reply, and I noticed that the sweet breath against my skin had slowed, and the hand on my side had ceased to move.

'Katie?'

Again no reply, and I knew my girl was deep into sleep. I lay still, savoring the feel of her against me, and I blinked up at the ceiling, letting my night vision adjust until I could just make out the dark shadows in the room. Far away in the distance, I heard a police siren, barely audible against the noise of the winter night. I wondered whose evening had taken an unexpected turn.

I turned my head and looked at Kate. Her face was nothing more than dark patches in the gloom, and although her eyes were closed I knew that she was content. So was I. I was twenty-nine years old, and I'd done a fair bit of living in my past, even thought I'd been in love before, but those feelings were nothing compared to how I felt now. At this moment, tired and pleasantly aching from our love-making, I could see where I was going for possibly the first time in my life...

Next morning we rose late and sat at the kitchen table working our way through scrambled eggs and coffee. Kate called the office and said she'd be a little late, and I smiled when I heard her say to her boss that something had come up during the night. That was an understatement.

'I'm sorry for being such an idiot,' I said, sliding my hands around her waist as she cleaned the dishes at the sink.

She slid around in my hands to face me, and dotted my nose with soapsuds. 'What for?'

'For upsetting you with the writing.'

'No, I should apologise.'

'No you shouldn't, you had every right. But you do believe me when I tell you that it's just you and me, don't you?'

She smiled and nodded, and my heart did the same little dance it always did. Just like the first time I had seen her walking near Regents Park nearly three years ago.

'You're my girl, Kate. You'll always be my girl, and I love you.'

We kissed, and before I could start a repeat of last night's performance she pushed me gently away, laughing and saying that she had to get on, that some of us couldn't hang around the place all day drinking tea and tapping away on the keyboard. She skipped into the bedroom to get changed and I wandered into the office and powered up the PC, loaded up the disc with my article and notes concerning The Ramones. A final paragraph had come to me this morning while I was in the shower, and I had every intention of getting the piece squared away and off to the editor within the hour.

She came into the room just as I'd got into the flow, cute, sexy and smart in a short grey skirt and matching jacket, the kind of business image she always wore to the office and always managed to pull off so well. I looked down at my threadbare shorts and Mambo T-shirt. The difference was poles apart.

'What's a gorgeous and intelligent woman doing with a scruffball like me? I said.

She bent down and hugged me hard, stroked a hand through the stubble on my cheek. 'Just lucky, I guess. How's life with the punks?'

'Good. Soon have this one out of here.'

'What then. Back to the novel?'

I shrugged. 'Possibly. Thought I might write about you and me for a little while.'

'Do it. We've got the love story of the year going on here, baby. I'll see you tonight.' She blew me a quick kiss and was gone, and I listened to her make her way down the hall and through the front door. The apartment was quiet, and I always felt a small moment of loneliness after Kate had left in the morning. It was if the life had gone from the place. In a way I suppose it had.

I made myself a fresh mug of tea, loaded some AC/DC onto the stereo and sat back at the desk. I'd finish the Ramones piece, and then I'd write about the love of my life and the night we had just spent with each other. I'd work through the day until I finished it.

And now, I just have.

End