I knew what he wanted now, even if he didn’t really know himself, but now I wanted it as well; Andy was my world now, there was only him, and I wanted him to have everything of me I had to give.
When I judged he was ready, I slid off him, and took hold of his slick, glistening cock, rubbing the wet, glossy tip over my tight hole. His eyes widened as he realised what I was doing as I lowered myself onto him, taking him into my anus, relaxing and seeing stars even as I slowly forced myself down onto him; luckily he’d relaxed me somewhat, but it was a really tight fight even with that…
Andy was gasping as his cock was squeezed so tightly by my bum; taking him this way made his cock feel twice as thick, but the feeling as he slid slowly into my arse was incredible. When I had him all the way inside me, I tried squeezing him, grinning as his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
“Oh Christ Lin, that’s… oh God!” he gasped, and when I began to slide him out again, I nearly screamed at how incredible it felt. Andy pumped slowly, gently, not forcing anything, but I didn’t care; the feeling as my man fucked my arse was so incredible, all I wanted was for it to go on and on. Andy tried his best, but it was having an effect on him too, and when he rolled over so I was now underneath him, with my bum tilted up so he could ram into me, a kind of madness took over, and we humped and hammered at each other, the sensations as his cock slid in and out of that place almost indescribable.
When I came, it was like a giant wind blew through me, sucking all thought and reason from me, leaving only pleasure behind; I screamed like a banshee, my pussy squirting all over his midsection even as my bum tightened, trapping him.
Andy gave a great, coughing roar, his cock swelled up to what felt like an impossible size in the confines of my bum, and jet after jet of hot spunk shot deep into me, filling my insides with his burning heat, blinding and deafening me to any and everything except his lips on mine, and his big, soft hands as they held my buttocks apart and my legs wide open.
I finally let my legs drop back to the bed, and Andy slowly withdrew from me, even that withdrawal triggering smaller, less intense, but still wonderful, orgasms, and we lay side-by-side, his arms around me and his lips playing gently across my face, even as his soft hands squeezed and fondled my bottom. I was lost in a haze of well-being; my man had literally fucked hell out of me, I’d wrung every last drop of spunk out of him, and now it was time to rest, to bask in each other, and to feel our love as we held each other close.
When I woke, it was already late afternoon. As usual, when I woke, Andy snapped awake as well, then paused as, like me, his time-sense reoriented, then he relaxed, pulling me closer to him.
“What do you want to do today, Lin?” he murmured in my ear. I already knew what I wanted to do; while I was sleeping, the decision had been made for me.
“Let’s pack up our stuff, baby,” I said, “this isn’t my home anymore; I want to go home with you, to Edinburgh. I’ve got no reason to stay here any longer, not now… not after this morning.”
I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my neck, then he patted me on my flank and kissed my ear.
“You’re right, baby-girl; let’s go home.”
We showered, and then, while he packed his stuff, I called Nana and Grandfather to tell them of our decision. Nana was curious as to why we’d decided to go back so early; Andy wasn’t due back at university for another three weeks, and so, quite without meaning to, I told her about the events of the morning, and why I felt I had to leave, and my tears came again, as the memory of their indifference tumbled around in my mind once again.
Nana was sad but understanding; after all, she had no illusions about her son and his nature, and she knew exactly what my mother was like; once she’d calmed me, all she asked from me was my assurance that I knew what I was doing, and to be sure I would be happy. I assured her that as long as I had Andy with me, I had everything I needed, which was what she wanted to hear.
Grandfather spoke to me too; he sounded sad, but he also understood how hurt I was, and why I had to leave.
“Just remember, Lamb-Chop; I’m only a phone-call away; anytime you need anything just call me, I’ll sort it out for you. Some of my people will be in touch with you soon; you need to think about your finances. Leave it with me, but expect a call, sweetheart. I love you, Lamb-Chop, always remember that.”
We left the E-Type behind; gorgeous as it was, the luggage space was laughable, so Andy plumped for daddy’s custom Land Rover County; he’d never notice, nor care, it was gone; the man had once wrapped a Lamborghini Countach around a tree and left it to be towed away for scrap without a backward glance, so a missing jeep wasn’t going to raise his temperature any. We left without a backward glance; that place meant nothing to me now; my home was where Andy, my half-brother, my lover was.
*
Life with Andy in Edinburgh soon settled into domestic normality; I found a job in one of the many little bookshop /coffee-shops that dotted the city, so my days were filled with quiet interest, and after a few abortive attempts, the regulars discovered that I was serious about my boyfriend, the huge bloke who collected me every evening, so left me alone, instead flirting with me when they could get away with it. I was quite flattered and gratified by it all; I’d never been what you could call the belle of the ball, so it was fun to banter with the students, knowing it was never going anywhere.
And so life ambled along. It was almost idyllic: Andy collecting me after work, me making dinner for us in the enormous flat he’d completely neglected to tell me he’d bought, in a beautifully restored Regency house, and our free weekends together playing with each other, grocery shopping together, watching TV in bed, and falling even deeper in love.
And then one day almost a year after we’d upped-stakes, it all came to a grinding halt. Andy came to the bookstore to collect me, and hustled me out of there, his face pale and drawn, with none of the verbal sparring and banter we indulged in as a matter of course.
His expression was set and tense, and all he would say was “Later, Lin, we need to get home!”
By the time we got in I was feeling more than a little scared; Andy looked terrible, white and strained, almost as if he was on the verge of tears, and as soon as we got in the front door I rounded on him.
“What’s going on, Andy, what’s happened?”
He looked at me, sombrely, and he looked frightful, like he was sick. My heart leaped into my mouth.
“Lin… it’s Jack, Jack Cameron…” and I was shocked to see tears in his eyes. I took his hands, and squeezed them.
“What about Jack, baby, what happened to him?”
He looked at me, tears spilling down his cheeks.
“This afternoon… he was mugged… the bastard shot him, he shot him in the head… he’s in surgery now, but they don’t expect him to live…!”
I sagged, feeling a sick hollow in the pit of my stomach; Jack, my teenage crush, quiet, handsome Jack Cameron, one of the sweetest, most gentle, most caring people I knew…
Even through my shock and distress, I knew what we had to do.
“Andy, we have to go, baby, it’s Jack, he needs us now, he needs you, Andy; he needs everyone, all his friends. Get packed, we have to go!”
Andy snapped out of it, rushing to cram essentials into a large flight bag while I did the same, followed by a quick tour to lock up; then we were haring down the motorway, stopping only to refuel and go potty. Andy drove through the night to get us to the National Hospital for Neurosurgery in central London first thing in the morning; we arrived there just after 5 a. m., so dozed in the car for a couple of hours until the main doors were unlocked.
They let us see him even though it was outside visiting hours, and we weren’t immediate family, which made me tremble in fear for him; it was like they were waiving the rules because they didn’t matter anymore, because they knew they were losing him…
When I saw him, all my worst fears crystallised; he was swaddled in sheets to immobilise him, his head heavily bandaged, respirator tubes in his mouth, more tubes in his nose, drains in his head emptying into catchbottles, drips in his arms and chest, and wires everywhere, his head, his chest, festooning him; he looked so small and vulnerable, his face pale and bloodless, with monitors and flickering readouts surrounding him, none of the ‘beep, beep’ you see in the movies, silent numbers and wavy lines the only outward signs he was still clinging to life.
Harry was already there; he must have been there all night, along with Jack’s mother. His sister, Teruko, had been there all day and night, and Sai Fong had taken her home just before we’d arrived, to get some rest, some food, and a change of clothes while Harry sat with him. When he told us that Jack was in a deep coma, and that he was only just clinging to life, despite all they’d done for him, I had hysterics; Jack’s mum had to take me away and calm me down, poor lady, even though she must have been in nearly the same state as I was. Andy and Harry just sat there, stunned and silent at what had happened to their best friend, Athos to their Porthos and Aramis.