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Sunday Love Songs 02

By: Alwaysraining



Second and final part. It will make more sense if the first part is read first. Both parts are quite long.

'Steve Wright's Sunday Love Songs' is a real BBC Radio 2 programme: Nine till eleven am GMT every Sunday. I'm not sure if they still do the long lost friends item.

In any case, they never connected Kevin and Nicola with each other, since they are both fictional characters!

All characters in sexual situations are over eighteen.

----- 

We left Kevin searching and worrying about Nicola who seemed depressed and intent on avoiding him. Now, having received a love letter from her with mixed messages, he travels to his childhood home for Christmas, hoping that Nicola will go home for Christmas as well.

Christmas is really the only time my siblings and I, Kevin Connors, find ourselves together in our parents' house. This particular year, Patrick was bringing his steady girlfriend, Marie, before driving away the day after Christmas to her parents' place.

I was somewhat surprised that my parents assigned them to the guest bedroom, leaving Lorraine and I to fight over the remaining bedroom with a double bed. We tossed a coin and I lost. I was not particularly bothered, since the room I was left with, while having only a single bed, was my old room.

The three of us got on well together, though we saw little of each other over the course of the year. Lorraine was working and living in Newcastle and Patrick was in Leeds. 

I had my parents to myself for Friday night. Lorraine arrived on the Saturday morning and Patrick and Marie would join us on Sunday afternoon. 

Lorraine was always fun. She was loud and always happy, always laughing. Once settled in and having assured our parents she would be in all night, she dragged me out shopping.

Of all the women in the world, for me there is only one who makes shopping fun: Lorraine. She prattled on about life, asking my advice on clothes, and on presents for Mike and the parents. After an exhausting two hour marathon, she propelled me into a coffee shop and ordered coffee and sinfully creamy cakes.

"Something's not right in your life Li'l-bro," she said seriously. 

Li'l-bro was her joke. Mike was 'Big-bro', even though now as adults, I was three inches taller than he was. 

"Come on, spill, what's wrong?"

Lorraine was like that. When I started walking Nicola to school, she caught on immediately and teased me that I was in 'lurve' as she put it. When I went to spend the deflowering weekend with Nicola, she knew exactly what I was doing and even covered for me at home. She was always one highly perceptive girl, now a woman and even more so. She also knew when I tried to bullshit her. Only the truth would do.

"You know about a BBC programme on Sunday morning called 'Sunday Love Songs'?" I asked her.

She did, though she did not listen to it. Very wise, I thought. I then told her the whole sorry tale, ending by showing her the letter. Yes, I was still carrying it round with me! Inside pocket, against my heart of all things!

"Always thought you were special," she said abstractedly, then shook herself, "OK!"

"OK?" I puzzled.

"Catalogue of misunderstandings. I could go into that in detail, but it boils down to one thing. She is madly, besottedly in love with you."

I opened my mouth to speak but she had not finished.

"And you are in love with her." 

She sat back with a satisfied smile, as if she had solved all the world's problems. Not mine!

I sat forward, ready to refute her assessment.

"Don't argue," she said with a dismissive gesture, her eyes sparkling, "I'm right." 

Ever the optimist!

I collapsed, waving vaguely at her to continue. I realised I had missed my gorgeous little sister.

"She fell in love with you when you had that weekend with her at school. You must be some lover, Bro! But she had no experience of boys in general, so she went ahead and got it. Oh, yes, even down among us a couple of years behind, it was common knowledge that she was playing the field. God! Did we feel jealous -- she could get any guy she wanted without any effort.

"And that story that she ended up with you after the prom was true?" she asked with a giggle.

"She tricked me."

"Of course she did."

"No," I said petulantly, "it was Cloe wanted Nick's partner. I ended up taking Nicola home."

"God!" she expostulated. "You're still so naïve! It was the other way round! It was Nicola that wanted you! Cloe and she organised it between them."

"You mean?"

"Yes."

"Oh, bugger!" I had suffered another revelation. "I turned her down, I insisted on a condom, and she didn't want to use one, so I walked away."

"I'm impressed!" she laughed. "You see how hard that must have hit her, don't you?"

I explained about my comment about Chlamydia, and her response. She smiled lovingly.

"Kev," she said sweetly, "you showed you cared even when you turned her down. Can't you see how that will have affected her? How many other boys would even have turned her down? But to care enough for her to warn her, well!"

I smiled. What else could I do? Her praise was worth ten times anyone else's.

"I think that when you went your separate ways," she went on, "and she had various relationships, unconsciously she compared them to what she had with you--"

"I can't believe," I interrupted her, "that one weekend of sex--"

"No, no, no!" she interrupted in her turn. "You're thinking like a typical male! It was the whole package she missed and compared others to, all those years of friendship in lower school, your strength in refusing her, and yes, the sex that weekend, all rolled into one."

I shook my head, but she was continuing.

"So now we come to recent events. She's had a number of relationships, no casual stuff any more. None have been totally right for her. Then perhaps she was reminiscing with a friend and she remembers you and what you did for her. She decides to get in touch. So what does she do?"

"That bloody stupid programme on the radio," I answered.

"I don't think she was expecting you to be listening. I think it was a romantic gesture, hinting to the world in general and perhaps you in particular that she loves you. Perhaps one of her flatmates dared her to. I'll bet she was staggered when you replied. I bet there was a delay before she got in touch?"

"Well, yes," I said thoughtfully. Sarah had told me as much and this had been my conclusion when I got Nicola's letter. Where did my sister get all this insight from?

"You both had a wonderful weekend?" It was phrased as a question though it was clear she knew the answer.

"Yes. Now I think about it, it was very intimate and almost restful."

"And you didn't make a pass at her?"

"Well, no. She was a guest and we hadn't seen each other for ten years. I didn't know what she wanted."

"You see?" she said triumphantly. "She knows you have a sex life; that you have sex with more than one woman. Most men she's been out with would want to fuck her and would show it, but not you. You show her respect and friendship as you did in school. She sees you are the same person you were -- and she can't get you out of her system. Your aloofness turns her on; makes her want you more!

"Did you tell your girlfriends what happened?" she asked.

"Yes."

"They told you you were in love with her, didn't they?"

"Well, yes," I admitted.

"See, we women are all agreed! We just know."

"We've only seen each other for one weekend, I don't think so."

"Yes! You only met for one weekend. You haven't seen each other since, yet look at the pair of you! She wrote you a love letter, and you are unhappy."

"No I'm not!"

She gave me the look. Perhaps I was.

"As I said, you're unhappy -- or angry, and you said Sarah said Nicky was depressed after that daft misunderstanding. She tried to to be heroic by saying good-bye, she didn't mean it, Kevin!" 

"Li'l bro," she concluded, "You have to see her."

"Great idea, Lorraine," I retorted scornfully. "I don't know where she is. Remember?"

"Kevin," she reproved me, "she'll be back home for Christmas won't she? Once Christmas Day is over, go to her parents' house and talk to her."

Was it possible? Certainly we all came home for Christmas, but would she? I began to feel excited and a little apprehensive. I nodded to my wise little sister. She smiled smugly.

------ 

I found myself thinking over Lorraine's assessment of my situation as I lay in bed that night. My wandering thoughts began with anticipation of seeing her after Christmas, and sharing our feelings for one another. After all, we were in love with each other weren't we? Everyone kept telling me that.

I sat up abruptly. No! Wait a minute. Think things through. It wasn't as easy as that. I should use my head.

Something about that letter gave me an edgy feeling. Looking back on the past few days and weeks, I'd shown the letter mainly to women. All, including my sister, told me with pity for my stupidity and blindness that she was the love of my life and I was the love of hers. Female intuition based on one letter. Having read the letter they interpreted all the other events in the glow of that loving missive.

On analysis, how loving was it? If she loved me to distraction, and if I was the only real love of her life, that heroic 'setting me free' did not ring true. Not at all. If she wanted me so badly, she knew where I was, why want to 'set me free'?

After the disastrous misunderstanding and my email, she made no further effort to contact me. She could have emailed back daily until I gave in and replied. She knew where I lived, she could have camped on my doorstep until I conceded her point, which was valid enough in its way. 

She did nothing. She was depressed was she? But when Sarah urged her to allow her to contact me, she refused. When she found out I might be coming, she disappeared totally. It made no sense. One thing was clear: she did not want to see me. The love of her life? Ha!

The card and letter professing all her lifelong love, effectively told me to get lost. 

Those thoughts provoked me into contemplating our relationship from start to finish. A childhood friendship. In fact that was probably all it ever was. When she made contact so many years later perhaps it was nostalgia, a longing for an innocent life.

Then that final year. We had sex for a whole weekend. It was good, and yes I was good. Then she fucked half the males in the year and I did half the females. We were never a couple that year. Never. 

Then? A few emails and after that, nothing. Ten years later she comes onto me, tentatively it is true, and we spend another weekend together, this time with no sex. She is seeing someone else at the same time, ostensibly to 'try one last time' out of a sense of obligation to him. She lies about him to me by omission.

In the past eleven years we had been together a total of eight days! So what of the protestation of eternal love? Lorraine had told me it was because I did not try to get into her pants like her other admirers; because I did not try to woo her. Was it that which made me so attractive; being unattainable? Or was it because it was a throwback to our time before we had sex?

On my part, where did my feelings come from? OK, I am male and she was a very highly attractive woman, desirable and very sexy. She turned me on, there was no doubt about that. Anything more? I had to admit that we got on very easily over that weekend, we were very relaxed together once her initial nervousness was laid to rest. I also enjoyed being in charge of the relationship. She had to ask me to go visit her, and I graciously agreed because I had to be in London anyway. 

So, where would I stand in a perfect world? I was attracted, we were emotionally compatible. I thought I could also say she was attracted to me, and she felt at ease with me. So I would be willing to see where a relationship would lead, and I would hope it led to a more intense commitment. If I settled down, I could see it being with her.

But. 

The tortuous puzzle over her behaviour needed to be sorted out to my satisfaction. I needed to be able to trust her words, which so often seemed at variance with her actions. Was she devious, or simply mixed up? Damaged or damaging?

Lorraine and the other women were wrong. What I felt for Nicola was affection and lust. It might grow into love, but after all this trouble it would take time. If she was at home for Christmas she might well be grateful to be taken out and then we could talk. Satisfied I had sorted everything out to my satisfaction, I lay down again. I would try to see her on Boxing Day, the day after Christmas Day. It turned out I was wrong about that.

Patrick and Marie arrived at lunchtime on Sunday, and in the afternoon we decorated the tree and the house. Lorraine had been to visit some girl-friends from school days and arrived mid-afternoon much to my parents' disgust. She joined in the decoration somewhat shamefaced.

After a light salad evening meal we 'children' went to our local pub for the evening. Lorraine had told us that there would be quite a few people we knew there, and we were looking forward to a good evening.

I was first through the door. The pub was very full, all the chairs taken and a number of groups were standing around. Then I saw her, and stopped dead. Nicola.

Lorraine bumped into my back, while Patrick and Marie funnelled round me. Lorraine saw what I saw and I heard, "Oh, shit!" 

There were six of them, three couples, and the third of the couples was Nicola -- and Barry Wilkes. She held her drink in one hand and had the other tucked into his arm. The group were sharing a joke. She was smiling at him. The other two couples had their backs to me, but Nicola was facing us, though as yet she had not seen us.

Barry had somewhat gone to seed; he had a beer gut and looked out of condition. Lorraine had told me that he now owned a small building firm, and it seemed he spent too long at a desk. He had clearly left his sporting life far behind.

Nicola shocked me. While still very beautiful, she had lost weight and her face had taken a rather gaunt quality. Her clothes were marginally too big for her. Considering that when she had the weekend at my place she was immaculate, the contrast was striking. Then something on her ring finger sparkled. An engagement ring.

She saw me. Her smile disappeared. She stiffened and immediately took her arm away from Barry, who absently put his arm round her shoulder. She resisted, shaking him off. He looked at her but didn't understand.

She had paled, and I saw a mixture of tension, discomfort and guilt on her face. 

Without a word I turned and left the pub. The whole event must have taken thirty seconds at most. I bumped into Clive, an old school friend, on the way out. He was leaving as well. He had made good and ran a motor showroom. 

"OK, Kev?"

"Yeah, Clive, you?"

"Yeah, OK."

And the exchange was over as we hit the outer door, as he marched off to his Jaguar.

I vaguely heard Lorraine calling after me, but I was simply intent on getting away.

As I reached the entrance to the car park, I heard a different shout. Her voice. 

"Kevin, please!"

Call me a fool, but I stopped and turned.

She was running after me, but when she saw my face, she stopped.

My anger was intense. Engaged? To him? All the while writing to me that I was her true love? She had to 'let me go'? Settle for second best? The bitch!

"What do you want Nicola?" I forced through gritted teeth.

"I need to talk to you," she said hesitantly.

"What's that on your ring finger?" I growled.

The effect was interesting. She brought both hands to her mouth, which had the effect of displaying the ring to me.

"You are a lying, cruel bitch!" I spat. "The 'love of your life' has finally had enough! To think I've been worrying myself sick over you for months! Have a good life with your 'second best lover'. Good bye!"

I turned away and marched home. I was shaking with rage. My mother opened the door to me, was about to speak, saw my face and stood back. I went straight to my room and went to bed. I did not sleep.

The angry thoughts went round and round. Two hours later there was a knock at the door. I feigned sleep. A second knock. I grunted. 

Lorraine, for it was she who knocked, took that as an invitation and crept into the room, coming to the bed and sitting on the edge. I turned over to face her, switched on the bedside light and then sat up, squinting at her in the sudden light.

"What is it Sis?" I asked, my resignation showing.

She was silent for a moment then spoke quietly.

"I thought you might not manage to get to sleep, and I want to tell you what happened after you left."

I grunted, but I knew I wanted to hear.

"When you left the pub, I followed you, and so did Nicola -- well you know that. I shouted you but I don't think you heard. She ran after you and then you stopped. I heard what you said. It was cruel."

"She had it coming," I said, my anger starting to rise again.

"Calm down, Kevin," she said sharply. "You need to know this."

I subsided.

"Just listen, you do really need to hear this," she ordered. "When you stomped off--"

"I didn't--"

"I was there, remember. You stomped. Now just listen and then you can sleep."

She drew breath then launched. 

"She just stood there in floods of tears. So I took her arm and led her back into the pub and made for the Ladies'. You know it took Barry all that time to make it to the door. He couldn't work out why she was upset. He thought Clive had said something. He wanted to comfort her, but I told him to leave it and I'd see to her.

"The loos there are really plush. There are chairs to sit on while you touch up your make up, so I sat her down. I fussed over her a bit and then sat down with her and held her hand. Then she started talking.

"Kev, you don't realise the effect you've had on her. She's not the confident girl about town you think she is. Her self image has always been bolstered by male attention right from when she was a young teenager, but she realised a while ago that this is just a body image, and she's seeing wrinkles and she's feeling the years going by. She tried to make a go of two relationships with very nice men, but she couldn't get past her belief that it was her looks -- her body they were really attracted to, and that such relationships would not last as she got older and lost her looks.

"That's when she thought about you. You always gave her the impression that it was the real her that you liked, and the weekend with her proved it. Then it all went wrong. She knew you as calm and balanced, and the email threw her totally. She took you at your word. She thought you hated her. That's why she kept away, and why she ran away -- she was depressed and she couldn't face you arriving and despising her.

"You don't realise it, but she's in awe of you. It's almost worship, Kev. When she ran she knew you had her mobile number, but she didn't realise that her phone had failed. She hoped against hope you would ring her, but you didn't. Then she hoped you'd phone her parents."

"I did. I told you that."

"And I told her. That knocked her back and she broke down again. She couldn't believe that her mother could have lied. I told her it showed you really were looking for her, but she came back straightaway that you didn't answer her letter. Why didn't you?"

"No address, no postmark," I answered.

"Oh, shit!" Lorraine looked worried at that. "The silly cow!"

"If she's so much in love with me, why is she engaged to Barry?"

"She didn't say much about that but I got the impression that her mental health went further downhill when she got home, and Barry was round fairly early on. Apparently he's been very good to her but he was always pushing for a permanent relationship. It was only after she got no reply to her letter, that she gave up and said she'd marry him. Now she's upset that you're around and just seeing you has brought it all back. 


Sunday Love Songs 02



"Kevin, Li'l bro, you've got to see her. One way or another you've got to settle her. She's a mess now, and I know she wants you. Please, Kev, see her."

"Lory, she says one thing and does the opposite."

"Look! She was in tears, shaking, despairing. You think she'd be thinking of making things up? Get real, Kevin!" 

My sister was now shouting at me, and very angry.

With that certain now well known sinking feeling, I gave in. It was something I did often to my little sister. 

"OK, OK!" I said. 

She smiled, its smugness almost sickening. "Tomorrow, midday, Dog and Partridge." 

She had already organised it. I turned away from her with a groan, and put out the light. I heard her laughing as she left the room, and almost immediately it was Christmas Eve morning.

------- 

After breakfast we all set to to clean the house ready for the feast day, and after coffee I made to leave. Lorraine joined me.

"I'm coming too," she said. "I'll disappear if you need me to. Moral support." 

We walked; it was not far.

We entered the pub, which was not very crowded even though it was lunchtime. We looked round and found her. She saw us and gave a half wave and a half smile. She looked uncomfortable and uncertain. We went to her table and before either of us could speak Lorraine busied herself asking what we were drinking, and then departed bar-wards.

"Hello, Nicola," I said and I smiled. She looked tired and beaten, but very beautiful.

"Hi, Kevin." 

She patted the bench next to her, but I sat in a chair at right angles to her, and turned to face her.

Silence. I studied her. Once again I was captivated by those blue, blue eyes, lustrous hair piled on the top of her head, showing that slender neck to best advantage. She had shed her coat and had a tight sweater which outlined her perfect breasts, rounded in what I supposed was a tee shirt bra. What she saw in me, I don't know, but she sat still and gazed at me as I did at her.

Then she spoke.

"You didn't answer my letter, Kevin."

"It was a lovely letter. You really opened yourself up to me, and I was very touched by your expression of love. But, you know, if you want an answer, you really need to put your address at the top of the letter -- or indeed anywhere." 

I smiled again; I could do no other after the memory of her words in that missive.

She on the other hand, put a hand to her mouth. There was no ring on her finger. 

"Oh what a fool I am! Lorraine told me about mother's lie to you. If you'd known, we could be..."

"And instead you're engaged to Barry."

"I can't go through with that. Seeing you had made me realise agreeing to marry him was a dreadful mistake. I'm grateful to him, he's been good to me over the months. When you didn't answer my letter, I lost it really and agreed, but it will never work now I know you tried to find me."

Lorraine arrived with the drinks. She saw a friend and left us to talk to her.

"You've lost weight," I said, and let the statement lie.

"Yes, these last months... I suppose you could say I've been sad."

"Because of me?"

"Yes, and my own stupidity."

"Nicky," I said earnestly, "You must stop beating yourself up over this. Look. We are here, in a pub, together. First time we've even seen each other (apart from last night) since you came for that weekend. We can talk about how we feel now -- Lorraine told me all about our misunderstandings last night -- so we can leave all that out."

"I don't know about that," she said, and a frown creased her forehead. "Perhaps later..."

She sighed. 

"Kevin," she said, "I sort of laid my heart on my sleeve to you in my letter; you know how I feel about you. I do want you. I do love you, but I don't know how you feel about me. I thought you had written me off, but all those misunderstandings... Now I don't know where I stand with you."

"Before we get into my feelings for you," I began, "I don't understand how you can love me so much. We were friends in school. Then there was that 'deflowering' weekend and after that I cut you off completely. 

"Ten years pass and you get in touch, we have one weekend and then again we are cut off from each other. How can you say you love me so much, that I'm the only one for you? It can't be one weekend of sex when we were eighteen. It would be nice to have delusions of my sexual prowess, but I know I'm not that good! If all you're looking for is a sexual experience like your first, you're bound to be disappointed."

"You're wrong about some things and right about others," she stated. "I've had plenty of time to think about this. It did start with our walks to school. We were friends first and foremost. Nobody listened to me like you did. The other boys were always looking at my boobs or my bum or my legs, you looked into my eyes..."

"You do know how arresting your eyes are?" I grinned.

She sighed in annoyance, "Yes, yes, If I had ten pounds for every man who told me... "

She collected herself and continued, "You looked into my eyes when we talked. You've no idea how many men look anywhere but at you when they're talking to you! They look out of the window, at the wall, at my tits, never making eye contact. You did, and it showed you really listened. I know I must have rabbited on about all sorts of girly things. I remember when I thought I was failing in maths, you buoyed me up and you were the class maths master. At the time I took you for granted, you were a fixture in my life. I felt secure with you.

"Kevin, I've thought about that weekend in High School a lot -- the one where you made me a woman and I finished us as a couple. What made the experience different that first time wasn't the sex, or the novelty, it was our relationship as friends. I think we could agree that you loved me as a friend. No, you loved me full stop; you didn't use me. I missed you so much afterwards, and I knew it was my own fault.

"It came home to me at your place last May. We hadn't seen each other for ten years and yet I felt completely relaxed with you, as if we'd aways been close instead of cut off. I felt safe, secure, and I think I knew then I could live with you for ever. Perhaps I've said too much but there it is."

She put her hands on mine on the table with a satisfied look on her face. 

"Your turn," she said with a loving smile.

It was at that moment that 'my turn' evaporated. There was an exclamation behind me. 

"What the fuck?" then Barry was by my side. "Take your fucking hands off my fiancée!" 

His voice was menacing, but Nicola was smiling.

"You're not very observant, Barry," she said. "I've got my hands on his, not the other way round. I see you've brought our friends. Please everyone, sit down."

'Everyone' was Lee and Julie, and Craig and Viccy. It seemed that Lee the Neanderthal had become Homo Sapiens in the intervening years!

"What's going on, Nick?" Barry asked, quite aggressively, as pushed past me and sat next to her, between her and me. "Your mother said you were meeting someone in a pub, but she didn't know who. I've been bothered and we've been looking all over. I thought you were seeing Clive, but why him?" he said this nodding at me.

"Hello Barry," I said. He ignored me. Nicola's face clouded at the insult but she said nothing.

"Well," continued Barry. "Why are you sitting in a pub with this loser?"

She said nothing, her anger showing. Barry looked confused, then he turned to me.

"OK, wimp," he snarled. "I don't like other men coming onto my fiancée. Get that? So why don't you leave?"

"If he leaves," Nicola said quietly, "I leave with him."

"The hell you will, you belong to me now girl."

"How are you going to stop me, Barry? Force? I don't think so. If you must know, I invited him here to talk with him. We're only half way though our talk, so if he leaves, I leave."

"But," asked a puzzled Barry, "what d'you want to talk with him for? He's a nothing, a pen pushing geek!" He smiled at the group in his superiority.

He leaned back on the bench seat. "Hey Connors, how's things in accountancy? Still a pen pusher?"

"Barry," I smiled back, "we office types stopped pushing pens a long time ago. We have clever machines called 'computers' now you know, and we have a habit of doing rather well in the big world. Now I believe you are a builder. How's business?"

He scowled at that.

"Oh, not too good, eh?" I said seriously. "The banks aren't lending are they? Puts you in a bit of a bind? Cash flow? If you need a bit of financial assistance, I may be able to help; keep the wolves from your door. But I'm off the point, I rather think Nicola would like to finish our discussion in private."

Nicola made to speak, but Barry was in full flow.

"Well, sorry about that, squire, but if you've got anything to say, she's here and we're along for the ride. Got to keep an eye on my fiancée, you know." Another grin and a wink at his friends.

"Barry," Nicola said, getting a word in edgeways at last. "I wanted to see Kevin about a private matter, by myself. I came here by myself and you've barged in. The person I want to talk with is Kevin, alone."

"Go ahead!" he said. "but we'll listen."

Nicola looked at me with despair in her eyes. She shrugged. "What d'you think Kevin?"

"Well," I said with a naughty smile, "it could be very embarrassing for Barry, especially with his friends here."

"Nothing you could say will embarrass me," laughed Barry, but the friends looked uncomfortable, the girls especially. While at school I had bedded both of them (separately).

Things were moving rather too fast for much reflective thought, but something in me relished the idea of bringing Barry down. He'd trodden on me all through school, now I was physically fitter, taller and financially in a stronger position. Nicola had all but committed herself to me, and looking at her and her discomfort, I wanted her. Perhaps it was ignoble, but I wanted to take her away from Barry publicly. A plan formed.

"OK Nicola," I said, "where were we?"

She smiled as if she knew my intention, but it seemed she wanted to give Barry one more chance; after all, as she had told me, he had been good to her.

"Barry," she said, "I don't think you want to hear this. I'm urging you to leave and see me later, and I think Kevin agrees."

I nodded, "I'd much prefer that."

Barry made a mistake. He thought we didn't want him to hear what we said, whereas we didn't want to humiliate him, at least Nicola didn't.

Lee had got a round in, and I appreciated that he bought me another pint as well and thanked him. He smiled at me, as did Julie.

"I think I'd finished my side of the conversation," Nicola said to me. "I think I said it was your turn when Barry arrived."

"OK," I said.

Now I was on the spot, with an audience, and I didn't really have a plan. Perhaps, looking back on it, it was for the best that I didn't.

"Nicola," I began, "I don't really know what to say. First, you're wrong about me being different from the other lads, at least as far as lust was concerned. I lusted after you like all the rest. I lusted after your body and your achingly pretty face and those eyes just like everyone else!"

She looked amazed. "Really?"

I nodded, Barry snorted scornfully. The others smiled. I continued.

"Why did I listen so carefully? I was a nerd, a geek, and you were out of my class, so I grabbed at the chance to be with you. If I couldn't date you, I'd be content with walking you to school. My attention to you was selfish really."

"You're right about her being out of your class," Barry said with relish.

"Barry!" Nicola snapped. "Shut up. You interrupt again and I'm out of here. Get that?"

He looked surprised; I think he thought she would react to my statement as he did.

"I think you do yourself down, you weren't selfish at all. You listened and listened. You could have dated me, you know." she said to me, shaking her head.

"No I couldn't," I retorted. "You're forgetting the pecking order, the tribal system in school. And there was a class difference. You might remember I came to your house a couple of times. Your parents made it clear I was way below you and not welcome, and you showed no interest in me visiting you there. I was firmly restricted to walking to school. Hell, Nicky! You had nothing to do with me in school. You would have been a laughing stock hanging with the nerds. Right?"

She thought for a moment, grimaced and nodded her head. 

"You're right," she said. "I never thought about it, but that's the way it was."

"In spite of that, I was loving you when I took your cherry," I said. "I wanted--"

"Wait a minute," Barry interrupted again, "you took her cherry? Don't make me laugh! You never got near her!"

He glanced at Nicola, "I took your cherry. I remember."

Nicola made to get up, but I shook my head and she sat down again.

"No, Barry," she said patiently, "you only thought you did. You assumed it, but Kevin was my first."

He gaped. "Him? But you were tight, He isn't that big! Pencil dick, that's our Kevin! I've seen his little willy." 

He giggled and looked at his friends. The girls had been grinning; he misunderstood.

Julie snorted with laughter at that. 

"Grow up, Barry," she said, "It's an old saying but it's true, it's not the size, it's what you do with it; and believe me, Kevin knew exactly what to do with it."

Lee looked surprised.

"And he's actually bigger than you," murmured Viccy, almost to herself. It was Craig's turn to be surprised. 

"You mean?" Craig asked.

"You jocks weren't all that that observant," Julie piped up. "Too full of yourselves and too obsessed with football. After word got about among the girls that Kevin was good, and -- substantial -- most of the girls in our group had a fling with him. We had to keep it quiet because he wasn't in our set, but believe me, he certainly was good. He knew more about how to please a girl than any of your lot, Barry. Thankfully most of you have learned a bit since then."

Silence fell and I felt smug, or was it conceited? Barry shook his head.

"After that weekend," I continued, "you went to Barry and apart from the prom, we were apart. Then we left school and ten years passed. I did think about you from time to time, but it was more like wondering what you'd been doing -- a passing thought."

"But our weekend in May?" she asked.

"Good," I said. "Very relaxed. It was as if we'd never been apart."

"Hang on," interrupted Barry again. "You two were fucking last May?"

"No!" we both said together, and laughed. Barry's confusion seemed to be deepening. Not our problem.

"You want to know how I feel about you," I plodded on, rather embarrassed as it happened; I didn't want this audience. 

"How do I feel about you? Well, all the women I know tell me I'm in love with you. They cite the strength of my feelings when you did the unexpected. I've thought about that and they're right about the feelings. I was angry and jealous in school when you went from me to Barry--"

Barry let out a chuckle, and Nicola pounced.

"You lasted one time, Barry," she snorted. "You didn't match up to what Kevin gave me. Not even close!"

He subsided with a frown. His face reddened.

I went on. "I was very angry when I thought you were still with Terry, and had lied to me, but you know that; my e-mail didn't leave a lot to the imagination. When you ran home, I was angry, disappointed and then worried sick about you. When the letter arrived I was angry again that you were pleading your love for me and letting me go. You were a puzzle and it was frustrating not knowing where you were.

"That's why they're telling me I'm in love with you, so perhaps I am, but it doesn't feel like being in love. Mind you, I don't think I would know anyway! I do know that there's hardly a day gone by since that May weekend when I haven't thought about you and wondered and worried how you were, what you were doing and where you were."

She smiled, but Barry cut in again. 

"Very touching," he said, "but you don't need to worry any more, 'cos she's with me now." He looked smug, but it did not last long.

I ignored him, for I was now concentrating on Nicola. I knew for certain she wanted me, and now I really wanted her. I knew we needed more time together, to see where our relationship might go. I knew it would have to be with me in my home, since she was living with her parents and had nowhere else to go. However there was a lurking worry that once again what she would agree to do in practice, would be at variance with what she had told me.

Time to test her.

"Nicola," I said, "I would like to invite you to come and live with me at my place for as long as it takes to see if we have a future together."

Her face lit up in a wide smile, and a tear began to form in her eyes, but before she could answer, Barry jumped to his feet and since I was sitting, he towered over me, his face suffused with anger and his paunch in my face.

"You fucking little bastard," he was shouting and attracting attention from the other patrons. "What part of 'Nicola is engaged to me' don't you understand? She's with me! So why don't you just fuck off and crawl back up your own arsehole!"

I didn't react. I waited, looking at Nicola. She looked into my eyes and I could see her sadness. 

Fuck! I thought. She's going to go with Barry. Here we go again. Say one thing, do another. 

I think she saw my thought outlined on my face. She shook her head and gave me a half smile. With a heavy heart I waited for the blow to fall.

"Barry," she said. 

He turned to her, "What?"

"Sit down, Barry."

He looked puzzled, hesitated and then sat back down.

She took his hand. "You remember what I said when I accepted your proposal of marriage?"

"Yeah," he said, "something about a true love?"

"I said there was one man I loved totally and I would give myself to him if only he let me, that he hadn't shown any interest in me, but if he did-- "

"Yes, yes, you said you'd have to go with him," said Barry, "but he hasn't appeared, has he?"

"I'm afraid he has. I'm sorry."

"Not him!" Barry said, looking at me as if I was a repulsive specimen of pond life. "But you said he didn't show any interest in you. He doesn't love you, Nicola. Where's he been all these months you've been with me?"

"You really don't listen, do you, Barry? You never have. I got in touch with him last May, he welcomed me. He treated me as his friend, as he did in school. Then I let him down badly, and he rejected me -- rightly. I knew I'd lost him and was very depressed. My flatmate Sarah told him and he immediately came running to see me, but I was too ashamed to face him and ran back home. 

"I thought he was ignoring me because he didn't come after me, but he did try. My mother lied to him; she told him I wasn't here. Then I wrote him a letter and forgot to put my address on it. 

"It wasn't that he wasn't interested, he just didn't know where I was. It was all my fault. In spite of all I've put him through he still wants to give me a chance. I can't explain about my feelings for him, because you wouldn't understand. For him I'm a person first and a body second. Like most men you don't understand that having good looks can be a real curse. 

"So, Barry," she said sadly, "I have to give you this ring back. I'm going with Kevin."

I don't know which of Barry or me was the more surprised, but I do know our feelings were opposite. I almost felt sorry for the man. It was a very public rebuttal.

"You could have told me in private," he said sullenly, defeated.

"I did try to make you leave us. You insisted on staying," she said with a good deal of compassion. "You are a good man, Barry, but I don't love you like I love this man. I'm sorry."




Sunday Love Songs 02



He turned to me, and there was an element of surprise in his look.

"So you win it seems," he said grudgingly. "You're what she wants. Don't let her down."

"I won't," I said, and we actually shook hands.

"Barry," I said, though too quietly for others to hear, "I meant what I said about helping you out with the business if you need tiding over. I can help, you know."

I took out my business card and gave it to him.

He looked at me incredulously. I simply nodded, drank down my pint in one, and looked at Nicola. She nodded, smiled almost apologetically at me before kissing Barry on the lips very lovingly and gently, and then joining me. We smiled at the others, and without another word spoken we left the pub together.

Suddenly Lorraine was there behind us outside the door. We stopped and turned to her. 

"At last!" she said, and hugged us both.

------ 

We walked to Nicola's car, arms round each other. She kept hugging me to her. 

"Come to ours," I said as I opened her door for her, "Tomorrow, Christmas afternoon?"

She nodded. 

"What are your plans?" she asked.

"Staying till Saturday and then driving back. You want to come back then as well?"

"Yes please," and she smiled that smile, reached up and kissed me. I kissed her back. It was gentle and affectionate. "Will you have some room in your car for my stuff? It won't all fit in mine."

"No problem," I said and we kissed again. 

"See?" she said. "Again, it's as if we've never been apart all this time."

"It's good," I said. "See you tomorrow."

I did see her. I picked her up from her house. She was looking out for me and was by the car before I could get out. 

It was the first time she had been in our house, and she was welcomed royally. The other two males in the family could not take their eyes off her. 

Later, we walked out to my car where Lorraine, who was the designated driver at her own insistence, was already sitting ready to drive her home.

Nicola smiled and sighed with satisfaction, "Kevin, I had a great time. I really felt at home; everyone was so good to me. I can see now why you are the way you are."

I cannot remember how I replied, but it made me think. After the prolonged and passionate kiss broken only by Lorraine's hoot on the horn, she was gone.

I realised, perhaps for the first time, how much I owed to my Father and Mother. It was their characters, their comfortable love for each other, and their gentle control of us as we grew that contributed in no small measure to what we are today. Each of the three of us is different and has been allowed to grow into what we are. Once Lorraine returned I said as much to them, which embarrassed the hell out of them.

Lorraine and Patrick agreed. Dad said nothing, but Mum spoke for both, saying she thought that was the best Christmas present she had ever received, and wondered what brought it on. My father nodded.

I told them it was something Nicola said, whereupon my father said, "You want to hold on to that one, she's perfect for you and she obviously brings out the best in you!"

"And she's bloody stunning!" added Michael, and Marie nodded her agreement.

More to think about.

Next day, Boxing Day, it was a custom to go as a group to a film. Nicola came along, as did an ex-boyfriend of Lorraine whom she resurrected for the occasion. Mother came but father stayed at home as he always did. He was never one for the movies.

"I suppose you're wondering why I've not invited you home," Nicola said as I drove her home after a cold supper at our house after the film.

"After your mother's cool reply and lie to me I assumed I would not be welcome." 

"I don't think Dad cares much who I go out with, it's Mum who's the snob."

"Have you told them about our plans?"

"Not yet," she said. "The later the better. I'll tell them tomorrow. Then you'll meet them on Saturday unless they go out to avoid you." She laughed at the very idea.

They went out to avoid me. But I anticipate.

On Thursday Nicola and I drove into the Cheviots and had lunch in a pub near Hadrian's Wall. Then she spent the evening with us. She stayed at her home all day on Friday, but arrived at our place that evening, livid with anger. She ranted. None of us could get a word in.

The gist of it was that she had finished with her parents, or that they had finished with her if she went back with me. She mimicked her mother. 

"'You're engaged to Barry. Now there's a nice boy; we know his parents, they're our sort of people.' Then came the threats. You were only some sort of filing clerk, you were after my money. If I went with you they would cut me off. They would change their wills and cut me out. I was exchanging a life I knew for poverty and some squalid little house or flat in a squalid part of Manchester."

"You didn't tell them?"

She laughed, "You mean about your squalid little house? Not likely. They're narrow minded bigots. Snobs! Anyone would think that having money made them better than anyone else. I told them poverty with you was better than wealth with them, and I mentioned mother's lie to you. You know she wasn't embarrassed or guilty? She did it for me, she said!"

Nicola continued in like vein. While she was by turns angry, upset and scornful, I thought it showed she really loved them, and having to decide between me and them hurt her a great deal. I kept my counsel for the time being. We would talk about it in good time.

Mother said nothing, though I knew she was itching to. She would want Nicola to make another attempt to keep in contact with her parents. Practical as always she offered a bed for the night, which Nicola accepted. She slept with Lorraine in Lorraine's double bed.

At breakfast which was quite lavish, since my mother would not allow me to travel on anything less than a full stomach, Nicola was still belligerent.

"When we pick up my stuff, I want you to meet my parents. I want them to see us leaving together."

"OK," I said, though I was not looking froward to the experience. Of course it did not happen.

We filled both cars to the gunwales and moved off in convoy from her empty house.

------- 

I was relieved as we unloaded the cars to see that she seemed completely relaxed, as if she'd always lived there with me. Only now and again did a little uncertainty show, as when I offered her the same guest bedroom she had before. She looked puzzled, then immediately laughed out loud.

"Kevin, your bed is the only one for me. Now I've got my foot in your door (figuratively speaking) I'm not letting you get away. I'm here for good!" 

That's when she stopped, looked worried that she'd overstepped the mark.

"I'm so glad you said that," I said, "I've wanted you in my bed since that first time, and I'm delighted you're here for good."

The relief on her face!

We left all the baggage in the second bedroom, for, back to the mundane, we had to shop for food or starve. It was good to do something so ordinary, learning how each of us went about the task in a supermarket.

That first night, after the long drive, getting her stuff unloaded and doing a significantly large grocery shop, we climbed the stairs to bed.

She seemed uncertain as to what do do, until I shrugged off my clothes and stood nakedly before her, my prick hanging down. She looked surprised at my brazen display, then a smile spread over her face and she began to strip out of her clothes without any affectation. Her plain white bra was unclasped, and fell forward showing her breasts were as firm as ever, though fuller and without any sag, and then her plain white knickers came down, and she in turn stood naked before me. She grinned as her disrobing activated my cock, but she looked so tired.

"You're tired," I said. "Let's sleep tonight, eh?"

She looked relieved, and she shot me a look of gratitude. 

"Thank you," she whispered. "Good idea."

She had taken the right hand side of the bed, so I took the left, and we fell into bed together, stroked over each other's bodies, going all around and between and below, before kissing deeply and snuggling down, and we soon fell asleep. I thought her exhaustion was partly due to her problems with her parents. 

The following morning we sat in bed together and drank the tea I had made, listening to the radio. 

I had woken her quite late, after ten, with a gentle kiss, and she had pulled me back into bed and wrapped herself round me, turning her face up for another kiss. It was comfortable and peaceful. Then we sat up for our tea. She wanted 'Love Songs' on the radio, and we managed to get the last half hour or so.

Once the tea and the programme had finished, we sank back into the bed and resumed our entwined cuddle. My hand strayed over her stomach and down her thighs and up again. Hers traced my chest and stomach but avoided my cock which was limp so far. Then I felt her crease, bald until her landing strip. Her hand ran over my perineum, and over my balls to stroke my cock with an open hand. I started to rise to the occasion and pushed a finger into her slit to find her clitoris. 

Then I had a thought and stopped.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"I hate to bring this up again after ten years," I said apologetically, "but we need to talk about safety."

She froze. We were back to the night of the prom. She sat up and glowered at me.

"Are you accusing--"

"Stop right there," I said sharply. "No one's accusing anyone. We just need to have 'the talk'. That's all. I'll start. I have had sex with Beth and Julie, and with Sarah in London after you ran. We all used condoms every time. You need to know that from me after your brush with an STD."

Silence. She looked surprised at my mention of Sarah, and then annoyed. I could not tell whether it was that I had had it away with Sarah, or that I was talking condoms again. Then her features relaxed and she sighed.

"Yes, you're right," she said reluctantly. "Don't get upset. I've had sex with Barry. No one else since Derek. I insisted on condoms every time with Barry, and in fact we only had full penetrative sex about three times as Christmas got nearer. I'm sorry Kevin, but I thought I'd lost you, and as you'd expect we celebrated our engagement in bed."

She searched my face with a worried frown looking for a reaction, but I just smiled. It simply wasn't an issue for me. She had slept with Barry years ago, so what if she'd done it again? I'd not exactly been idle, had I? 

She looked relieved.

The moment had gone for making love though, so we got out of bed and went down to make breakfast. Neither of us felt hungry, so we contented ourselves with a couple of English muffins each, toasted with butter or cream cheese. Halfway through the meal Nicola looked up at me.

"Kevin I trust you. We don't need condoms do we?"

"I trust you too, sweetheart, no we don't. We don't want anything to come between us from now on."

She smiled, relief all over her face.

"It's a lovely sunny day, shall we go for a walk?" she asked. I nodded.

"When I came to see you last May, we went to Alderley Edge, I think it was," she said. "I'd like to go there again; see it in winter."

So we did. We wrapped up warmly and walked briskly. The woods looked completely different shorn of their leaves and the woodland was brighter for their nakedness, though very damp. 

Then we drove to my favourite pub and had lunch. It was good for us; we chatted, touched and held hands. By the time we were turning into my drive, it was growing dark, I was feeling totally at ease, and it seemed she was too, as if we had been together for months. I know I was feeling turned on by her proximity though she made no move on me. She was however breathing hard. Two days together and no sex!

As we entered the house, Nicola made for the stairs.

"I think I'll have a shower," she said, looking over her shoulder at me. That bottom of hers encased in jeans was enticing, though the garment wasn't quite as tight as I remembered. 

"Coming?" she asked over her shoulder with a little wiggle and an inviting smile.

I did not need a second invitation. By the time I reached the bedroom, Nicola was shimmying out of her high-leg briefs and unclasping her bra, throwing both on the dressing table chair.

"Come on!' she urged. "What's keeping you?"

I shed my clothes in one fluid movement, having loosened jeans and tee shirt on the way up the stairs. She ran before me into the large bathroom and made for the toilet, sitting and letting her piss run loud and free. I stood before her, my cock rising at the sight and sounds.

"You?" she asked, wiping herself and standing in one movement.

"Too hard," I said, my cock now at full mast, "never get the piss in the bowl."

"Pee in the shower!" she giggled, preceding me into the wet area, and turning on water. She turned as I followed her in and stood in front of me. 

"Go on," she said. "Pee!"

"You'll get wet."

She was under the water spray. "I am already. Go ahead."

"On you?" 

"Yeah. So?"

My cock was pointing up at a forty five degree angle, and when I let rip, a stream of urine bounced on the underside of her tits and ran down her front. She gasped and giggled, playing with the stream as it hit her.

"It's as warm as the shower!" she laughed.

I wondered where she got the idea of water sports, but she forestalled me.

"I've never done this before you know," she said still bathing in the stream twisting from side to side to get a good coating, "it just seems a loving thing to do. It says I love everything about you, even your piss."

I had an unworthy thought about shit, but banished it immediately. We would never go down that road!

When I finished bathing her in my emission, we lathered each other's hair and then washed each other in turn. I revelled in soaping and fondling her perfect breasts, her flat stomach and her arms and back. I couldn't help noticing that her ribs were quite visible: she was too thin. I had noticed her face was thinner and her clothes looked a little big on her, but now I saw her naked and realised how much she had been depressed. I felt guilty.

"Nicola, darling," I said, "we're going to put some weight back on you; I hope you'll get your appetite back."

"I know, I felt so depressed," she said. "You don't like the anorexic model look then?" 

I could see she was holding back tears.

"Don't cry," I said, stroking her back as I pulled her to me under the water's flow. "There'll be no more time apart. We're together for good. No more depression."

The tears were now flowing. 

"I never feel down when you're with me," she assured me, sniffing a little. "You've made me very happy."

Happy. Yes it was true. I had been surprised by the speed with which she had settled with me, and was so confident and playful, clearly delighted with her new life. I was shortly to find out how playful.

We never finished washing each other. We turned off the water and walked out. I carefully towelled Nicola down, rubbing gently all over her, making sure all her creases were dry, and eliciting a moan of pleasure. I handed her another towel for her hair and shooed her out into the bedroom.

I then towelled myself off, listening to the sound of the hair drier in the bedroom. 

I used the door to the landing and went downstairs, returning with a tray of nibbles, a magnum of vintage champagne and two flute glasses. I walked into the bedroom naked. She was sitting up in bed, her tidy breasts on view.

I put the tray on the bedside table and uncorked the champagne.

"A little celebration," I said smiling. "Welcome home!"

She clapped her hands. "Brilliant!" she cried.

We drank most of the wine, a significant quantity, and ate the nibbles, and when everything was finished, we were rather the worse for drink. I was still sitting on her side of the bed. She reached out and grasped my cock.

"I need thish!" she said, slightly slurred.

"Wha' d'you wan' it for?" I slurred in reply.

"F-f-fun!" she giggled.

"Oh!" I said. "Oh look, it's growing!"

She wanked it up and down, saying in a wheedling voice "C'mon l'le Kev'n, there's a good boy!"

Fortunately the drink had not yet impeded little Kevin's ability to grow to his full potential.

"Now," she said with a note of triumph, "I hear you're very, very good in bed."

"I'm very naughty in bed!" I chortled, "anyway, who gave you that idea?"

"My gorgeous first boyfriend." 

She sounded drunkenly resentful, "He took 'vantage of me, a poor ickle maiden!"

"The cad!" I shouted dramatically. "Hope you sent him packing!"

"Oh, yeah!" she sniggered, "B't I've wanted hish naughty cock back ever since. Can you fill my need, sir?"

"OK! Where's this need of yours? Point me to it."

"Down here," she gurgled, pushing the duvet back and pointing to her vulva, sticking her finger in it. Then she grabbed my cock and pulled me by it.

"I read it in a manual," she added. "It said 'Put stiff rod A into shlot B. You go'n to put A into B?" 

She giggled uncontrollably.

"Right away," I said, climbing clumsily over her. 

She spread her legs wide and led me by my cock to her sex, putting it to her entrance. 

"In here," she said with a sensuous sigh followed by a drunken giggle and a snort down her nose.

"You sure? Seems a v'ry small hole!" We both giggled stupidly.

"Jsht try," she suggested. "S'been there before. Go on, pushhh!"

"OK," I said. I could feel she was wet, so I gave an exaggerated pull back. 

"R-r-ready?" I said.

"You r-r-rolled your Rs!" she hooted.

"You r-r-rolled your arse up the stairs!" I replied, pleased in my drunken state with the stupid rejoinder.

She began to giggle again, and then she was laughing uncontrollably. 

"Oh Kevin," she gasped between paroxysms of giggling, "for God's shake shove it in! 

"Fill... " here she broke down in helpless laughter, "me need -- fill me need!"

By this time I was laughing helplessly myself. 

"Here it comes then, into the tunnel goes the train!" She was even wetter. I wondered briefly if she'd wet herself, but by then I didn't care at all.

I put my cock to her and thrust inside in one easy deep action. "Ughh!" (That was me).

She squealed, and exhaled loudly seemingly sobered with the feeling. 

"Oh fuck! That's deep!" she groaned, and then started laughing again. "Your cock I mean, not your metaphor" and she was off again, helpless with laughter.

"You mean the tunnel?" I asked, confused. "I'm definitely in the tunnel -- it's dark!"

"Yes, yes, no!" and we just laughed and laughed in that way that set each other off over and over. 

"Push, pull, pushh!" I said, matching the action to the words, and the laughter died away, as did my words, to be replaced by her rhythmic grunts as I bottomed out each time, giving her long strokes, and grunting in my turn. I might have been inebriated, but I could feel every undulation, every crevice and ridge in her slick vagina. It was heaven, exquisite heaven.

"Oh, yes!" she gasped, pushing herself against me each time I thrust in. "Oh, I'd forgotten, so fucking good!" It seemed she had a similar experience.

Now her face took on a concentrated expression, her brow furrowed, then half smiles passed over her face, and a pleasured grin now and again. The alcohol seemed to be accelerating her journey to climax, while delaying mine: ideal! So I continued my assault on her cunt, and she encouraged me by pushing my backside into her as she rose to meet my cock's repeated intrusions, her cries rising in pitch and sounding as if she were in pain.

Her closed eyes popped open, and widened. She yelled "Ohh! Here it comes! Arh! Ugh!" the grunts and moans and squeals accompanying the twitching and bucking that signalled her climax.

I had some way to go and continued to fuck her hard as her orgasm went on and on, until I felt the gathering and the rising and the ejaculation, as I yelled and grunted my own resolution, spewing my semen into her welcoming haven, twitching and throbbing in my turn.




Sunday Love Songs 02



She pulled me down onto her and we kissed voraciously. 

"Yes!" she said. Then we just smiled at each other, as I stayed inside her, leaning on my elbows, being slow to lose stiffness, twitching my cock and getting a clasp from her kegel muscles in return. 

I made to roll off, but she tightened her grasp. 

"Don't go yet. I love you inside. Stay!" she begged. So I stayed. We said nothing. Eventually my friend shrank and slipped from her, and only then did she let me go, coming into my arms as I lay back on the bed.

We slept the inebriated sleep of the champagned, and each of us at sometime in the night used the bathroom, before returning to bed and sleeping through to Monday morning, New Year's Eve.

I was woken by the phone. It was early -- about eight. I stumbled out of bed to get the phone which was on Nicola's side. My cock was at full mast. Little Kevin was always a greedy sod.

"Hi Kevin!" It was Beth. "Just checking you're back in time for the party."

I groaned. "You're very loud, Beth, but yes, I am back, and yes, I will be at the party."

"Too much malt last night? Did you find your true love? Was she home for Christmas?"

"All will be revealed tonight." 

"Spoilsport!".

"Beth, it's too early to talk. See you tonight, ok?"

I heard her sigh.

"OK," she said blithely, and terminated the call.

"I'm hungry," came a husky voice behind me, and I turned to see a very pretty but sleepy woman with wild hair, rubbing her eyes. She eyed my erection pointing in her direction. I twitched it.

"Noo," she said with a sleepy grin, "Much as I look forward to sucking on your lollipop, I mean really hungry -- for food."

"Fry up?" I asked mischievously, watching her grimace of horror. She paled slightly.

"No fry up then," I said with some relief, as my own stomach felt a little queasy at the thought.

"How about some toast with marmalade," I ventured, "and a cup of tea. Then some croissants or bagels with coffee later when we're up?"

She smiled indolently, and snuggled down in the bed. 

"Fine," she said. "Wake me when it arrives."

"Your wish is my -- etc., etc." I said and went to make a naked breakfast, passing through the bathroom to relieve my bladder on the way in order to dampen my priapic enthusiasm. 

While putting together the simple breakfast I heard Nicola using the bathroom, then going back to the bedroom.

There was little said when I brought the tray of food and drink to the bed. She made appropriate noises of gratitude as she laid into the toast and drank down the tea. I went and refilled the mugs, and we settled into the bed once the tray was placed on the floor.

We wrapped ourselves round each other. At length she spoke, almost as if to herself.

"I've been in men's beds," she said, "or in their arms--"

"Boasting again!" I reposted, and got a hug for my trouble.

"Let me finish," she said seriously. "I was going to say, that the only times I ever felt really at home, was that first weekend together when I was so stupid, and now here with you. I feel I've come home, that I somehow have always belonged here in your arms." she kissed me, and I kissed her back.

It led to more kissing, and to our hands roving once again over each other, and from there to her climbing over me and taking me within her once more, as she sat above me with my cock fully impaled in her warm velvet sheath. She did not rise and fall, but rubbed her mound and therefore her clitoris against me, falling forward and rubbing her tits against my chest, then rising vertically again and rotating her hips. It was fun, relaxed and loving.

She gazed at me as if not believing how things had turned out, and smiled an intensely loving smile. I hope I did the same. Then she seemed to relax and lay down on me.

Neither of us had come; she was content and so was I. We stayed like that for a while, and then I moved a little and she immediately rolled off me, sensing that there were things to do. 

We reorganised the dressing room off the bedroom so that Nicola's clothing could have its place, along with her many shoes! Then we unpacked, and the dressing table with its mirror, bare before, was now filled with her beauty products.

"I don't know why you need so many beauty treatments, your beauty is flawless without them," I said cheezily.

She gave me the appropriate despairing sideways glance, but coloured a little at the compliment. 

"You don't see the wrinkles the way we women do."

"Oh, by the way, there's a party tonight," I told her. "That's what Bernie was ringing about this morning. It's at the group's usual club in town. Want to go? Give you a chance to meet my friends."

She did, and immediately set about planning her wardrobe for the evening.

The New Year's Eve party at the Grey Cat Club was an annual event for our group. We booked the quiet room, which was not so quiet that night. 

Usually there were about twelve of us meeting during the year, but for the New Year the friends and family of each person, and even friends of friends swelled the number to about forty. It was ticket only event, and I had two tickets. In addition to our party, the 'room' would be full to capacity, about 150 people.

While she was getting ready, which took some time, I booked a room in the Regency to save us having to find a taxi home. We could drive there and park in their underground car park.

She sat in her sexiest pale green semi-transparent bra and thong putting on her makeup, while I used the shower and put on my usual shirt and trousers, packing a tie in case they enforced the dress code, which they did on occasion. I told her to pack an overnight bag, since we would stay in the hotel. She looked surprised then pleased. 

I waited downstairs and eventually she descended into sight. Of course she looked fabulous.

Her 'little black dress' was certainly little if not black, giving air to a good deal of cleavage up top, a scooped back and a hem half way up or down her thighs. It was not tightly figure hugging, but shaped enough to show off her body, and with a pleated skirt. Thin tapering straps. There were dark sheer stockings and high heels. Her hair was up with a few ringlets hanging down, showing off and drawing attention to her wonderful neck, and to top it off, her favourite silver necklace and earrings. Oh, yes, the black dress was dark rich green! I learned it was her favourite colour.

------ 

We drove to town, and on the way I explained about the 'regular' group which met often, and the wider range of friends and siblings that would be there that evening.

"All the close group are totally reliable and good friends, and it's our usual practice to dance with everyone else. I'm not totally sure of the others."

"I'll keep my eyes open," she said. "I've had some experience with rats, you know."

We checked in and took our bags to our room on the tenth floor, one floor below the penthouse suites at the top of the building. There was a very roomy balcony and the view was just as good as the floor above at half the price. Nicola did a quick check on her makeup then we took the lift to the basement without more ado.

We arrived after nine to find the place quite full. I spied our group in one of the larger bays, as we stood hand in hand.

As I expected the women were at one end of the bay and the men at the other, and I could see conversation was animated and flowing in both groups.

Then Beth saw us. Her eyes widened, and her mouth famed the 'word' OMG. She nudged Julie who also gaped. Both girls broke into wide smiles, and told the rest. Conversation stopped as all eyes fell on Nicola.

The change alerted the men and they too looked, and looked again. There was surprise here also, but also admiration and lust. The smiles were anticipating dancing with her, I could tell, and this caused me a passing feeling of worry, but as she had said, she was well used to dealing with the male of the species.

Beth came over as we approached. 

"You did it!" she crowed. "You're Nicola, aren't you? Welcome to our little party." 

Beth hugged and the two kissed cheeks.

"Come over and meet the rest of the girls," Beth invited, pulling her away from me and leaving me standing.

I walked over the the men's end and found an empty place on the bench seat. A pint miraculously appeared before me, and Mike grinned broadly.

"Fucking Nora!" he exclaimed, "I can see why you were trying to find her! She's a fox."

This was echoed by the rest, who were still looking over eagerly as she sat down and her dress exposed a good deal of thigh. She smiled across at me before Beth began introducing her to the other women.

"Come on, lads," chided Brendan, "show's over, at least for now. Where were we?"

"Something about sexy women?" said Don with a laugh. "Blood and sand, Kev, you know how to pick 'em."

I smiled smugly, what else could I do? My smugness did not last the night.

Once the DJ began his stint, the single sex groups began to break up as men went to women to ask for a dance, and in this age of equality the women came asking for men to do the same.

I saw Mike had immediately asked Nicola out onto the floor, while Beth came for me.

"You've got a good 'un there," Beth said as we gyrated to the music. "I explained that we all dance with everyone else, but we get our own partners for the count down and New Year."

"She all right with that?" I asked.

Beth hesitated, "Well, yes, but I think she wanted you as a dance partner for most of the night. That ain't goin' to happen, is it?" She grinned at me. I shrugged.

She laughed. "You want to dance with her all night as well, how sweet," she said making fun of me.

"Hey!" I said, "We've only been together alone since Saturday, you know."

"Ah, diddums," she mocked. "Here, let's drift over to Mike, then you can get her as soon as this one's finished."

Which we did, and as soon as the dance ended, I cut in on Mike, and Nicola came into my arms for the slow piece which followed. 

"OK?" I asked. 

"Oh, yes," she said. "Mike was really nice, very respectful. Looks as if I'll be busy."

"I think all the men want a turn," I grinned. We kissed, her arms found my neck.

It was a little later. Nicola was dancing with Stuart, who was Julie's squeeze for the night, and there was a small group sitting out, of whom I was one. 

"Don never told me Carlton was coming," said Freya, Don's partner.

"He that really dishy one, dancing with Beth?" asked Zena.

"Him?" grumbled Mike. "Thinks he's God's gift to women!"

"God, he floats my boat," sighed Zena.

"He's an actor," said Freya. "He's been in a few dramas on TV. Getting quite famous. Bit of a ladies' man. You've got to admit, Mike, he's very pretty!" and she giggled.

"Ebdon was saying he always gets any woman he fancies; they can't resist him," said Billington, one of Mike's mates.

"He can have me," said Zena, her voice quite husky, "but I know whom he's got his eye on."

"Some hopes!" Freya laughed.

Everyone laughed, and I wondered whom they were talking about. I really should have known, especially since Freya cast a glance at me.

Later on, nearer eleven, I was dancing with Catherine, Brendan's lady. I knew her at university. She introduced me to Brendan when I came to Manchester and we three became good friends.

"Kev," she said seriously, as we moved to a slow tune, "You need to watch Nicola with that Carlton. He's after her and he's devious."

I looked round, and sure enough, Nicola was dancing very close to Carlton. In fact they were pressed together. I was annoyed: she was certainly not putting distance between them, rather the opposite.

"You've seen how they're dancing, I felt you stiffen," she said. "I saw him pull her in like that. She did resist then just gave in."

We watched them. He was holding her waist, whispering in her ear, and she was shaking her head. He kissed her hair then her ear. She did not react beyond a smile. His hand drifted to her bottom, the other played with her hair at her neck, another smile. Her hands on his shoulders. Then the crowd came between us and we lost sight of them.

The song ended, and Catherine and I went back to the bay where I waited for Nicola and Carlton to return. They did not and I could not see them, but most of the dancers had stayed on the floor waiting for the next tune, so they could have been out of sight. 

I searched, and as I was peering through the crowd, I heard that mate of Carlton talking to his girlfriend.

"Carlton's got her," he was saying. "We won't see them again tonight!" and they laughed.

Beth came to me. 

"What's the matter Kev?" she asked me.

"Nicola's disappeared, and from what I just heard, she's with that Carlton bloke."

"Let's walk round the floor and see if we can see them." she suggested, and I agreed with her.

The next piece had begun, another slow dance, and we paced round the edge, peering into the throng. She was not there.

"I don't believe this!" I moaned. "She's done it again! Gone off with someone else."

"Don't lose heart," Beth said. "Come on, I'll check the ladies'."

She wasn't in there. 

My spirits sank. How could she do this to me yet again? Say one thing, how much she loved me, was 'home' now she was with me, and as soon as we go to a party she goes off with this supposed babe magnet.

Beth saw my face. 

"Wait here." she ordered. "Promise you'll wait here for me."

I nodded.

Five minutes later she was back, and she was fuming.

"I asked where Nicola was. Everyone was immediately worried. Then I asked where Carlton was, then that toe-rag Ebdon started laughing. Carlton got the girl again, he said. I was livid and then Don weighed in. Ebdon's on the end of a lot of hostility. 

"Kev, did you tell them you'd booked a room here?"

"Yeah, people were talking about how difficult it was getting home after the party, I just said I'd got a room. Carlton said so had he -- the penthouse suite."

"Well, she went to the loo, and when she came out, Carlton was waiting for her. According to Ebdon they've gone up to his suite."

"So? What's new?" I said despondently. "I should have known it was too good to be true. Par for the course."

"Kevin, I saw the way she was with you tonight. There's got to be an explanation."

"Well, I'm looking forward to hearing it."

"So we go after them," asserted Beth. "Come on -- to the lifts. We'll ask them, he's in room 1104."

We took the lift and emerged on the top floor. 1104 was in the same position relative to the lift as my room one floor below -- 1004. 

Beth knocked firmly on the door. No answer. She put her ear to the door.

"Can't hear anything," she said. "I don't think they're here." Then she had a brainwave. "Perhaps they're in your room!"

Down we went to the next floor. This time I had a key. I opened the door and we stepped inside.

There they were. Or rather there he was. He was finishing unbuttoning his shirt, but stopped on seeing us.

"What the--" he began, then Nicola emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing a different dress.

"Carlton, zip me up plea..." Then she saw me. I stared at her, disbelief all over my face.

Everything was suddenly very quiet, and nobody moved for what seemed to be ages.

"Kevin?" Nicola broke the silence. "What are you doing here? Beth?"

Carlton started to laugh. "Coming up for a bit of the other with Beth, eh? Naughty boy."

"Kevin!" Nicola shouted at me. "Explain! What're you doing sneaking up here with her?"

I was dumbfounded. Here was Nicola in my room with Carlton, both of them déshabillé and she was shouting at me?

I sized up the situation, quite wrongly as it happened, and let rip myself. 

"Nice try, Nicola, but Beth and I aren't half-dressed, so don't try to divert attention from what you two were doing."

"I don't care what you think, you were coming up here to fuck your old fuck buddy. Don't deny it!"

"I assume since you came up here to do the same with Carlton here -- and have done from the look of things -- that would be the first thing in your head. All those protestations of love! I should have known you were too good to be true, after all you have got form in this department haven't you?

Lover boy chose that moment to make his contribution. "You're tight there, Kevin, she's too good for you, it looks like you're left with Beth tonight. Come on Nicky, we can go back to my place."

"At least Beth doesn't say one thing, profess undying love and then go off shagging the first pretty boy she meets," I snarled.

"Now just a minute!" Nicola shouted indignantly. "How dare you--"

"Save it, Nicola," I snapped. "If you want him, collect your stuff and go and enjoy his nice penthouse suite, you can collect your stuff from the house tomorrow."

"Shut up the lot of you!" yelled Beth. "Don't make this worse than it is by saying things you'll all regret. Sit. Down! You," she pointed to Carlton, "sit in that chair. Kevin and Nicola sit on the bed! And no one says a word!"

Everyone obeyed! Nicola sat as far from me as possible. There was a moment's silence.

"Now," Beth said. "We are all going to explain, quietly and calmly, what's been going on. I'll go first."

"This should be good," muttered Nicola.

"Oh, it will be," retorted Beth, "and what's more I have witnesses downstairs who'll bear me out, so button it Nicola. It's you who's in the shit, not me, or him," she said, casting a thumb in my direction.

"I doubt that," Nicola shot back, "of course your friends will back your story."

Beth sighed, then began, "About half an hour ago I saw you Nicola and Carlton pressed up against one another on the dance floor. Then a little later I found Kevin looking puzzled as he searched for you Nicola on the floor. You weren't there.

"We both circled the dance floor and it was true, neither of you were there. I checked the loo; you weren't there either. I went back to the group and Ebdon (who's no friend of mine Nicola, I happen to think he's a toe-rag) laughed and told me that Carlton had 'got you' and you had both gone to his suite. Apparently Carlton here always gets the woman he wants. Seems he's right from what we've just seen. We went to the Suite and you weren't there, so we tried this room and low and behold, both of you half dressed.

She paused. "Kevin?"

I had little to add. "That's what happened, except that earlier I heard Ebdon saying that you two had gone to his room and we wouldn't be seeing either of you till the morning. So finding you like this -- sort of reinforces what he said, don't you think?"

Carlton's shirt was still open and Nicola had to hold her dress against her chest.

I relaxed, and sagged. And waited.

Beth looked at Nicola.

Nicola was quieter, but shot me a baleful look.

"Well, at least this shows you don't trust me, jumping to the worst conclusion instead of asking first."

Beth intervened. "Enough of that, Nicola. The first thing you did when we arrived was to accuse Kevin of being unfaithful, so you didn't exactly shine in the trust department either, did you? So how about explaining what we saw? Just the facts."

Nicola bridled at this, then stiffened.

"OK," she said, "I hope you feel small when you hear this. While we were dancing, I broke my heel," here she picked up the offending shoe and brandished it in my direction. "So Carlton helped me from the floor and said he would come with me. I was hobbling and he supported me."

I snorted. "Carpets everywhere and you didn't think to take the other shoe off?"

She looked surprised.

"Er, no I didn't. We came here and I was changing my shoes and I realised the new ones didn't match the dress, so I changed dresses."

"Your green dress is on the bed," I pointed out, significantly.

"OK," she said petulantly, "so I took it off in here."




Sunday Love Songs 02



Carlton laughed. "Very nice too!"

I gave him a hostile look but he was unrepentant.

She sighed. "The other dress was hanging in the bathroom to get the creases out, so I went in there and put it on. I was coming out when you burst in."

"So why was Carlton taking his shirt off?" I asked.

"My mistake," said Carlton, who was taking it all very lightly. "She didn't say she had another dress in there. I thought she was using the loo and then coming back for a bit of 'how's your father' on the bed."

"What?" cried a shocked Nicola, "Surely you didn't think--"

"Yes," he answered proudly. "Most of the women I meet want a little fling. And they come back for more. Look at the difference between me and him, Nick: I'm in films and he's a bean counter. I'm a millionaire, and him? I've satisfied a lot of women, I bet he's not had more than half a dozen in his whole life." He was preening himself. "It's still not too late, Nick."

She took a long look at him, then at me, then at him again.

"Sorry, Carlton," she said, "first of all, he took my virginity when we were in upper sixth form, then he had half the girls in my year. He's had quite a few since then. Before that he was my best friend for six years as we grew up. He's very, very good in bed. He's not a bean counter, as you put it, he's a retired (get that Carlton, retired) market trader from the City. He made a mint before he retired and he's still making money even in this recession. Personally I think he has it in looks over you as well, but that's only my opinion. Never mind, there's still time for you to pick up some stupid bimbo before midnight. This one's not available."

Carlton actually looked puzzled: he was not coping with the ideas put to him. Eventually he shrugged and started fastening his shirt. 

"OK," he said, standing up. "Your loss," and with that he left the room.

Nicola now turned her attention to me as she sat on the bed and glowered at me, and I'm pretty sure I did the same at her, her appreciation of me notwithstanding. Nothing said.

Beth stood over us and laughed. 

"Stop it, you two," she said, trying to be stern, "you really are like two little children. Kev had every reason from what he heard to think what he did, and he came running after you because he was worried he'd lose you. You Nicola had every reason to think we had come up here for a totally different reason because you didn't know what was said downstairs. You both had good reason to come to the wrong conclusion, but you have to agree that in both cases it was the wrong one. True?"

Silence.

"Nicola, true?"

"Yes." Grumpily, with the hint of a reluctant smile.

Kevin, true?"

"Yes, yes." Resignedly with an exaggerated sigh, and answering her half smile with one of my own. 

"So why don't you apologise to each other?"

"Sorry, Nicky."

"Sorry, Kevin."

"Now kiss and make up." She sounded like a teacher with two warring pupils.

I slid over to her and she turned, and we kissed. We kissed for quite a while, and began to smile at the silliness of the situation.

Beth laughed heartily. "OK, don't go overboard, it's nearly midnight. You don't want to turn into a pair of pumpkins."

We broke, and smiled at each other with a new appreciation, and we all left the room.

"Your first tiff?" asked Beth as we descended in the lift.

"Since school," Nicola said, tucking her arm in mine and squeezing. "That time I was naked and he was fully dressed.

"You're both out of practice," chortled Beth, who was obviously proud of her mediating abilities.

"Thanks Beth," I said.

"Yeah, thanks Beth," echoed Nicola.

Beth had time to smile with satisfaction, as we left the lift and joined the crowd for the countdown, just in time.

Then it was 'Happy New Year' shouted by the whole crowd and then the kissing. Nicola fell into my arms and we kissed. The kiss went on for some time, and then we became aware of a number of men waiting their turn with Nicola and the women waiting for me. I was lost in Beth, Julie, Shona (Mike's other half), Freya (Don's girl) and, something of a surprise Mia, who asked where Carlton was. He had not reappeared, I looked around and noted that Zena had also disappeared, and suspected that Carlton was now occupied in private.

When I emerged from all that feminine attention I saw that Nicola was nearing the end of her queue, the last of which was Ebdon. She eyed him suspiciously and I was ready to intervene, but he was the soul of decorum and apologised to her for giving the wrong impression to the rest of the group about her intentions towards Carlton.

The dancing began again and Nicola came into my arms and we danced the rest of the night away, with breaks to catch our breath. Stuart asked her to dance, and this prompted her to make an announcement that she would be dancing only with me for the rest of the night, to make up for our earlier separation. 

I told her that was a little excessive, but she was adamant, she'd had enough of being groped by all and sundry, she said. She gave a devilish grin.

"I want you to grope me all night!" and thrust her mound against me blatantly, following this with a playful rubbing of her breasts against my chest. 

I acquiesced. Of course.

At two o'clock we called it a day and retired to our room. 

It was when she shrugged off her black dress and I saw her underwear, the pale green set I saw when she was getting ready, that I remembered how she said she shed her green dress in front of Carlton. My doubts about her story resurfaced. The bra was gauzy and lacy, half cup thin straps. It was not there for support but to seduce. The knickers were semi transparent of the same material and being a thong allowed a view of all her assets admittedly partially veiled, but also drew attention to her bottom cheeks on full view. She had displayed all this when alone, to Carlton.

She went to the bathroom as I undressed and my mind went into overdrive, not helped by the amount of alcohol I had imbibed. 

Why? If her other dress was in the bathroom losing its creases, why shed the green dress in full view of his lustful gaze rather than in the bathroom? He certainly took it as an invitation, and was getting undressed ready for her return. Odds were she was going to give it up to him, after all he was very handsome and the other women drooled over him, so he was very beddable in their eyes. He seemed to have a magnetic attraction they could not resist. Perhaps she thought she could get away with a quickie.

Then I remembered the two of them on the dance floor before they disappeared. They were pressed together and he was feeling all her charms and no doubt she got a feel of his cock, which in that sort of huddle could not fail to be firmly erect. First the dancing then the escape to the room. No it was obvious: she would have fucked the bastard. Asking him to do up her dress indeed -- more an invitation to take it off again. 

She came out of the bathroom and I went in. As I completed the round of washing and tooth cleaning I thought some more.

My trouble is that I tend to see both sides, so my second thoughts ran thus: she did break a heel, no doubt about that, and while she had no need of his company since she could have removed the other shoe, in her inebriated state she might possible not have thought to do it.

After feeling him against her when dancing, having him accompany her could have been an attractive proposition for her with no ulterior motive beyond his company. 

Once in the room perhaps she rather fancied him and flashed her knickers at him (actually flashing a hell of a lot more since it was a thong), simply to get his admiration and approval. A moment of weakness with that most alpha of alpha males? Was that it?

She certainly went on the attack against me fast enough. Then I thought again. Was it Carlton's comment that Beth and I were looking for privacy of our own that gave her the idea? Hmm. Either way she took up the idea with alacrity.

But then there was her horror when she found that Carlton had interpreted her action as expecting to have sex with him, and her demolition of Carlton as a rival for my position as her man. Those reactions were not put on, they were genuine and spontaneous. Weren't they?

I emerged from the bathroom with my mind in a mess, and of course it showed. I was preoccupied, probably distant. I climbed into bed to join a naked Nicola, who of course sensed I was not at ease. I lay back.

"What's up?" she asked solicitously, "and don't say 'nothing', 'cos it's something."

What to say? The last thing I wanted at that moment was another argument or even a discussion about what happened. I wasn't even sure I wanted a romp with her at gone two in the morning.

"This evening, this party," I said at length. "It wasn't as good as I thought it would be."

"It's that thing with Carlton, isn't it?" she said, leaning on one elbow.

That's Nicola, straight as an arrow to the nub of the matter.

"That as well," I admitted. I knew we were not going to make it as a couple if we held things back, but that was not the time. "Can we leave it till tomorrow? I'm in no condition to talk rationally. I'm tired and 'in drink' as the Irish say. D'you mind?"

She said nothing immediately but her hand snaked down at feel my cock, which obligingly grew apace. That was one part of me that did not seem at all tired.

"As long as you talk to me with this thing you've got," she said, giving it a tweak. "A quick chat -- with this," she added, giving it another tug. By now it was upright and ready for action. She lay back and spread her legs.

"Fuck me!" she said in most sultry voice. "Stuff me!"

I felt between, pushing a finger into her vagina to find it wet and ready. I pulled my finger out and stroked her clit, eliciting a moan of pleasure and a number more pulls on my rigid member. 

"Now, Kevin. Get it up me!"

I rolled over her and found myself between her widespread thighs. She raised her legs and rested them on my back, which lined me up perfectly. I could feel those lips caressing my cock and I pushed a little and slipped the tip into her warm slick tunnel. I pulled out to the edge and then pushed the tip in a little more and out again.

She exhaled loudly in exasperation, and her eyes flashed angrily as they gazed into mine. I got the message and jammed my cock up her twat. Well, she did ask. She yelped, and gave a glazed smile. She twitched her hips and a lascivious grin flashed across her face and was gone, her tongue flicked round her lips, and her mouth opened so sensuously, followed by a frown of concentration and a more insistent thrust upwards.

I can take a hint. My cock began its vigorous assault on her sheath, my hips gyrating as well as thrusting. I was crashing against her pussy-end, my root hitting her clit and rubbing its hairiness against the button. It was mindless but in another sense it was retaliation for her dalliance with Carlton, dispatching him from us. In and out, in and out, one hand grasping and tweaking her breast, then pulling her hair hard, until she gave a guttural groan, her eyes clenched shut and she went rigid, her cunt gripping my cock and stopping all movement as she gave her whole self up to her climax.

As soon as her vaginal spasm relaxed I pounded my way to my own resolution until I froze in my turn, all the better to feel the semen erupt from my cock as I held my breath and felt the exquisite pulse before thrusting more gently as I milked myself of the sperm and the further pulses of my orgasm. 

I was still holding myself off her, when she pulled me down onto her needle tipped breasts, and kissed me with an open mouth, raping me with her tongue. Then as my cock fell free of her, she quickly scooted down my body and engulfed my wilting but appreciative prick in her mouth. At first I thought, I'll never get it up again!. 

Then it dawned that she was cleaning it, sucking the remains of the semen and her own juices into her mouth, her tongue licking me clean. Mind you Little Kev did start to twitch a little and grow a modicum.

She drew away. "No more, darling, please. I'm all fucked out!"

I laughed. "Don't worry, he's got ambitions beyond his capabilities."

Laughter, cuddles, kisses, strokes and sleep.

------ 

We overslept. Fortunately the hotel had envisaged this eventuality and breakfast was served until eleven. One thing about Nicola, now she was with me, she was assiduously working on putting on weight. Any thoughts I might have had of a quickie to start the day were banished as she leapt out of bed and got dressed. She had bought designer jeans and a form fitting teeshirt over a teeshirt bra to fit her reduced dimensions. No quickie and a body revealed like that. Frustration!

"Come on!" she urged. "It's ten thirty. Breakfast!"

So in my shirt and pants from the night before, unshaved and unkempt, I accompanied her, wondering if they would let me in the dining room. They did, and we ate to our hearts' content.

Could that girl eat! Fruit juice (twice), grapefruit, cereal, full english breakfast (bacon, sausage, black pudding, egg, fried bread, baked beans, grilled tomatoes, mushrooms), toast and marmalade -- oh, and one of the two croissants I was managing to get down. 

Since it was already eleven, we were drinking coffee. I could not have stomached coffee with a Full English: for me that needs tea and plenty of it, but I did think I was having a couple of croissants, and they do go with coffee. To be fair, she did go and get me another croissant (and yet another for herself)!

Check out was delayed like breakfast, but we had to be out by one, so we finished in the bathroom when we returned to the room. She showered and her nudity encouraged the idea we might just...

No time. We had to check out, and I had to shower and shave. More frustration, especially when she was in those sprayed on jeans. At least she put on a bra for the journey home.

She chattered about this, that and everything on the way home, as she always did when we travelled, but when we turned into the drive, she floored me.

"Kevin, I haven't forgotten. I hesitate to say it, but I know we have to talk."

You had to love her. She never ducked unpleasant chores. 

I turned the engine off. 

"Let's unpack and get some coffee, then we can chat over coffee and biscuits." 

More coffee, what was I doing? Actually I knew she loved coffee in the morning, and it was only two hours past midday.

We sat on the sofa in the living room with our coffee and some biscuits (cookies). We ate a little, drank a little.

"So," I said, not knowing really what to say.

"So," she replied, which would have been humorous had she smiled. She didn't.

Silence. Then she sighed.

"Kevin I'm not blind and I'm not stupid, so let me tell you what I think is your problem with last night."

"I never thought you were stupid, Nicky," I said hastily.

"No, I don't think you ever did," she replied, "we did both go to university, didn't we? But perceptive? Common sense?" She laughed and her eyes twinkled.

"OK, go on," I prompted her, "the floor is yours."

I could see she was biting back a humorous rejoinder, and I'll swear we both were thinking that the floor, like the rest of the house, was mine. She took a breath.

"It's Carlton, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"The dancing and him being in our room?"

"Yes."

"Kevin, if we're to make a success of this, we have to be free to say what's in our minds. 'Yes' doesn't cut it. Spell it out to me, then I can understand."

I sighed. New Year's Day and after a lousy party, we were having a post-mortem. 

"The way you were dancing with him. Pressed up against him, feeling him and more to the point letting him feel you up. It was almost sex on the dance floor. I just don't think that's the way you go on when you are in a relationship with someone else. People were passing comments, you know."

"Oh."

"Then you'd gone. Now don't get mad, but there is a history here of you dumping me for the jock of the class, and then more recently of you saying one thing and then everything crashing round my ears. So I hope you can imagine how I felt. It ruined my night. 

"Then there's the business of stripping for him. Your underwear was seduction material, the knickers didn't exactly cover up your bum, and I assumed that was intended for my benefit. Nicky, it hid nothing. He was getting his shirt off: he knew what it meant. He shouldn't have been there at all. You didn't need him to 'support' you to your room.

"And then there's the instant accusation that Beth and I were up there to fuck ourselves silly. It looked like attack was the best form of defence -- that you felt guilty and wanted to deflect attention from what you were doing. 

"I'm confused, you seem to be giving me mixed messages. I'm not sure of you anymore."

I drank some more coffee and she sat looking worried and upset. Was she trying to think of a believable story to cover herself? At length she sat up and turned to face me, her face creased with concern.

"Yes," she said quietly, "I can see that. You're right of course. None of it should have happened. It was stupid of me. I'll try to explain.

"I told you about my modelling jobs, but didn't go into details beyond the fact it was mainly for websites, mail order and advertisements. If you've ever looked at the women's wear pictures in catalogues or on line, you'll see that they use the same model for a number of different garments. They do her hair differently or use different makeup or a wig sometimes, but it's the same girl. Cheaper that way.

"The actual shoot is hard work, very fast, and if you think that the model goes discretely behind a screen or to a cubicle to change, you're wrong. Some places do, but not all by any means. You just go over to a clothes rack and strip off, in front of the photographer, sometimes his assistant, and if it's really posh, a dresser -- often male.

"You think nothing of it. You do get the odd slime-ball who tries to get off with you, but they don't push it -- they'd lose trade if that sort of thing got around. Girls would refuse to model for them. Some of the photographers are fit guys, and I'm sure some girls fuck them. Not me. Not even when I was not in a relationship.

"That's not all. The same thing happens with some of the underwear shoots. You strip naked to put of another set in front of the men there. On occasion the buyer is there as well. What I'm saying is that I never thought anything of it after a while, so taking off the dress in front of Carlton wasn't a big deal. It never entered my head that he'd take it the wrong way, I simply never thought twice about it."

"And the dancing?"

"As a model very occasionally you get invited, if that's the right word, to evening receptions, at an advertising launch. There'd be a meal and dancing. You chat during the meal and dance a little with the clients. Not in any sleazy way," she hastened to add, "just part of the evening.

"Most clients are well behaved, and hold you properly during slow dances, but more often than any of us like, you get characters who think models are prostitutes in all but name. They press up against you, you can see it in their eyes -- 'Can you feel my big dick?'. They want to feel your tits against their chests. 

"Well, they're clients, and it's not so bad. If they start to take liberties, then you politely put them off."

"What sort of liberties?" I asked. I had seen what Carlton got away with. She understood.

"If they stroke your hair, stroke your back, OK. If they fondle your bum cheeks, well OK. Tits, no. Hand down your front, no. Hand on a thigh pushing up skirt, no. 

"You might let them get a quick feel, but then you stop them nicely. I've only had one guy in the whole of my time who wouldn't take no for an answer, and I left him on the dance floor and complained to the advertising company.