I promised her I would, and slipped in a little snippet about Charlotte Pryce’s ‘ferret-in-a hedge’ brother who’d filled out nicely thanks to a stint in the Royal Marines, trained regularly at the local gym, was quite cute in a rugged, ‘me-Tarzan-you-Jane’ sort of way, and currently single. Shelagh’s eyes lit up, and in a very short while, over a couple of large Sangria’s, Jamie was almost forgotten as her new man-snaring scheme unfolded.
I left her watching TV, it had been a long day, and I needed to recuperate; also, Shelagh had started me thinking. Perhaps a new man was what I needed, a new start, with someone new, someone I could get to know, and who’d get to know me, move a little slower than I had with Mark.
The next day, I got a call from Nia again, she and Jamie wanted to spend the evening with me, they were telling their dad, and needed to be out of the house while their mum went to bat for them. It was an… interesting evening; Nia managed to get the whole Mark story out of me, in fact, I spilled my guts like a prison stoolie, which wasn’t what I wanted, as it only brought my loss back into sharp focus
++++
The months went by, Nia started Law School at the London School of Economics, coincidentally opposite my office on Southampton Row, so most afternoons, if she was free or had a short day, she’d wander over to see me, and we’d get a sandwich or a Chinese together. Jamie was busily building his own business, contracting himself out to exploration companies, building-up his list of contacts and saving every penny he earned to start his own consultancy. I used to stay with Nia when he was away, her dad had given them the top floor of their house as their own space, a sort of apartment, which he referred to as ‘The Sin Palace’ and stayed away from, unless he heard Nia playing some of his old Stax, Philadelphia and Atlantic soul records, then the two of them would sit up there, eyes closed, leaning against each other, grooving and worshipping at the feet of Otis Redding and Al Greene while Jamie and his mum ate ice cream and watched cop shows, or listened to Jamie’s Sam Cooke and Van Morrison CD’s.
I met and dated a variety of guys, all of whom were nice, some were very nice indeed, but there was always something missing, something that failed to flick my ‘he’s the one’ switch. Sometimes, one of the more romantic ones would leave a bunch of flowers with a card addressed to me on the step outside, always purple hyacinths, maidenhair ferns and orange blossom, with a single primrose in the middle, and I was always intrigued to know which of the guys I’d dated was sending me flowers, but I never found out. Then boutique chocolates on my birthday, again left outside in a package addressed to me, and again no clue as to the sender.
For two years, as Nia worked her way through university, I became increasingly a fixture in her house. Jamie was away a lot, his name was getting around, and he was becoming in-demand, so I spent a lot of time with Nia and her lovely, steely little mum, the only person I know who’s shorter than I am…
In many ways, Mrs Morrison became a mother to me. She was someone I could have a mother-daughter conversation with about life, love, boyfriends, all the stuff I should have been doing with my own mother, and she gave me the advice that a mother gives her daughter — also, she reviewed the various short-term boyfriends I managed to acquire, generally asking the questions about them that a mother would.
And then I met David.
The first time I saw him I thought he was bloody gorgeous; tall, dark blonde hair, bright blue china-doll eyes, sporty and fit, a smile that could melt through concrete, single, four years older than me, with a steady job and a clear career path with the Civil Service. I was in a haze when he asked me out, all I could focus on was that smile, those eyes, my God!
We went on several dates, David taking me to the West end to see ‘Jersey Boys’, romantic dinners, chocolates, flowers, the whole thing. I thought he may be the one, the one person who could wipe away the memory of Mark. Eventually, I gave in; I needed him, or rather, I needed a man, and as Shelagh pointed out, even if a guy’s not Mr Right, why not at least let him be Mr Right-Now, and give myself a chance.
So I set up this whole seduction routine, decoying him into the bedroom so I could work him out a little, maybe scrub away the last little bits of Mark that still lurked in odd corners of me.
I started innocuously enough.
“So, David, what are you doing tomorrow?” I asked him as we sat in my place, having a post-pub sandwich.
He grinned at me. “Nothing much, for the first time in a long time, my Saturday is free; no Rugby practice, the cricket nets aren’t open yet, and I don’t want to go circuit-training, so I was going to lie-in, watch TV, and slob-out, and ask you if you would like to go to a wine bar in the evening.
I took a deep breath.
“You could do that here, you know, you don’t have to go home tonight, after all, we’ve been going out now for…!”
He cut me off with a smile. “I accept, Julie, thank you, I was wondering when my manly charms would wear you down!”
He pulled me close and sat me on his lap, kissing me while his hands ran up and down my back. I moved and sat astride him, pulling myself closer so I could kiss him better, his hands dropping down to my backside and squeezing lightly, letting me know he was enjoying himself, enjoying me.
I broke our kiss and stood up, tugging his hand, and leading him to my bedroom, a place no man had been since I moved here over two years ago; I thought it was about time it saw some action.
David turned me as we entered the room, dipping down to kiss me as his hands slid over me, tugging at my top, pulling it out of my jeans as he began to undress me.
I fumbled with his sweater, pulling it up to unhook the waistband of his slacks, and David pulled his sweater off, then pulled my blouse over my head and popped the button on my jeans, sliding them down in one move. I grinned at him.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” and his answering smile literally lit the room up. He was such a beautiful man!
David peeled his clothes off down to his briefs, and I was intrigued (and excited!) to note the sizeable lump furled-up in the front there. I unhooked my bra and shrugged it off, David immediately catching me up and kissing me as his hands roamed over me and down into my panties, sliding them off as he cupped and squeezed my bum cheeks, walking me backwards to the bed and urging me onto it, not that I actually needed any encouragement!
I hooked my fingers in the waistband of his briefs and tugged them down, feeling a delicious tingle as his thick and handsome 7-inch cock sprang free, my pussy twitching in anticipation of what the night was going to bring.
David pulled me in close for another long, hot, powerfully arousing kiss, somehow manoeuvring me onto the bed, lying down next to me as his hands roamed over me, touching, caressing, fondling and squeezing.
I took hold of his impressive cock, wanting to feel the heat and pulse of it, my need for him almost overwhelming after so long. I kissed his muscular chest, licking and gently biting his nipples, making him tense his stomach, his abdominal muscles standing out in high relief as he gasped and bucked, before I moved down, kissing him lightly and fleetingly. I pumped his cock gently, feeling him flex as I kissed on down his abdomen towards his groin, eventually kissing and licking up the length of his cock from root to crown, making him gasp and smile, and licking once across the shiny purple head, tasting his maleness, his scent and taste strong and clean. His fingers gently massaged my pussy, sliding along my wet labia, feeling my readiness even as I slipped my lips over his velvety crown, hearing him gasp as I sucked him.