by Jade West
He was in everything I did.
He was my everything.
And I’d have him for two whole weeks.
I just had to clear the path with Mum and Dad.
I picked a good evening, one where I’d passed my A grade English coursework mark around the dinner table, and everyone had fluffed up with pride. I let them commend me, and I let them know how much work I’d put into it, and then I dropped the bomb.
“I’m, um… I’m going to be out a lot over Christmas… I just… things are getting serious… you know…”
Mum smiled, but Dad dropped his fork.
“You planning on being with the Sawbridge lad? That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
“And Lizzie… but, well… I’m eighteen, and I want to stay… stay over…”
Katie laughed. “Helen and Harry sitting in a tree…”
Dad waved her quiet.
Mum looked at Dad, and Dad looked at Mum, and my heart thumped.
“She is eighteen, George. You said the Sawbridges are a good family. I can’t see it’s so unreasonable.”
“Hmm. But her studying.”
“Her studying is going great, George. She’s doing really well.”
I could have hugged her. “My studying is going great, Dad. You can check.” And then I did the unavoidable, but I had no choice. “Harry’s nice. He’s good for me. I really like him, and I want to spend time with him, and I’m an adult now, and I should be allowed to stay over. I want to stay over.”
Mum squeezed Dad’s hand. “Look how happy she is, George. She’s been smiling ever since he came and picked her up for the ball. That can’t be a bad thing.”
He made a couple of noises, but they mainly sounded affirmative. “At least it’s put an end to all that teacher nonsense.”
Mum smiled, and I could have died inside. “We’re going away to stay with Auntie Mary over the holidays, between Christmas and New Year. Wendy and Bill were going, but Bill’s arthritis is playing him up. Maybe Harry could stay with you here, and watch the house?”
Dad visibly stiffened. “I’m not sure about that, Angela.”
She shot him a look. “Helen isn’t going to want to come away with us, George, not now she’s got a boyfriend.”
“We haven’t even met the lad. Not properly.”
“Not yet. I’m sure we will. We know Mick and Peggy.”
“We’ll be away a while.”
“She has a phone.”
“We should be together at Christmas.”
“We will be, Christmas day is all that matters. She’ll be here for Christmas day, won’t you, love?”
I nodded, mute.
“She’d have to take care of the cat.” Dad looked at me. “You’d have to take care of the cat, Helen, no gallivanting off and forgetting.”
I nodded again. “I’m capable of looking after the place, Dad.”
“No parties.”
I grinned. “When have I ever had a party?”
“I’m just saying. No parties.”
“Duly noted.” My heart was beating so fast I felt like I could fly.
Dad scowled a little, but resumed his eating. “I’m not entirely happy about this, but if that’s what you want.”
I clapped my hands, and couldn’t keep still in my seat, and my face was burning with excitement and relief and joy. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
They stared at me until I regained my composure, and then Mum laughed, and Katie laughed, and finally even Dad laughed.
And it was settled.
I had my two weeks, and there was nobody left to stand in my way.
***
I could feel the heat of him, and it was more than I could bear. Five days had taken their toll. Five days of wanting, and dreaming, and masturbating myself silly every night.
I inched my chair just a little bit closer and stared at my panto programme as everyone took their seats in the main hall.
“Miss Monkton got us good seats, at least,” he whispered.
I smiled. “Great seats.”
We were alone, by the lighting booth, behind all the main seating but the view was faultless. A couple of empty seats to our right threatened to spoil the moment, but the main lights dimmed without any additional occupants, and my heart soared.
I leaned into Mr Roberts as the music started up.
“I cleared it with Mum and Dad. I can stay out. I can do whatever I like over the holidays.”
“Whatever you like? Is that so?”
I nodded against his shoulder.
“I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for,” he breathed.
His words brought tingles rushing through me and warmth between my legs. “I’ve been a good girl,” I hissed, pasting on a smile as the first act started up.
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to treat you like one.” His eyes twinkled in the darkness and it stopped my breath.
He shifted in his seat and his thigh touched mine, and it burned me. It burned so hot my throat dried up, and all I could think of was him. His body, his mouth, his skin. I watched him watching the crowd, and then his fingers found mine. Just the slightest touch, but it was everything.
His thumb stroked mine, and my fingers curled around his, but they wouldn’t stop moving, wouldn’t stop touching. In a roomful of people there was only the point where his body touched mine, and I couldn’t fight the way I felt, couldn’t fight the longing. My breath turned shallow, and so did his, and he squeezed my hand so hard, and it said so much. I needed him. I needed his touch more than I knew it was possible to need something.
He let go of my hand and his fingers touched to my bare knee, and then he stroked inside my thigh and I shivered and tingles rushed through my pussy. His voice was just a breath, and it was laced with promise. “I’ve a feeling it’s going to be a very happy Christmas, Helen.”
Miss Monkton grabbed Mark after the panto, and Lizzie grabbed me.
“Urgh,” she said. “Crappy show. Good set though, great painting, Hels Bells.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
She pulled me to the side of the aisle as everyone filed out. “Sorry I haven’t been too chatty, it’s just, things with Scottie, they’ve been so hot. You know how it is.”
My tummy niggled at the distance between us. “Sure. I know how it is.”
She grinned. “But I’m cool now, for the holidays. I’ve got so many plans for us. I thought we could maybe go hang out in Hereford, go shopping. We haven’t done that in ages. Maybe catch a couple of films, too, head out for a pizza.” She squeezed my hand. “Got Christmas money through early from Nan, so it’ll be my treat.”
My heart dropped. “Sounds great, but I, um… I’ve got some plans already… with, um…”
Her eyes flicked away at my words, over towards Mark. I followed her gaze and he was still caught up in Miss Monkton’s monologue. He ran a hand through his hair and his curls bounced against his collar. Gorgeous. He had a Christmas tie on, in reds and greens, and his shirt didn’t even have any paint on it.
Lizzie broke my trance. “You, um, planning on seeing him much, then?”
I took a breath. “As much as I can…”
“So, that’s like a lot, right?”
“I just… I don’t have long, before we go… not really.”
She shrugged. “I guess our BFF bonding time just got a little screwed, then, right?”
“No… I don’t mean…”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Hels. I get it. You want him, and it’s Christmas, and you’re not gonna be around.”
“I will be around…”
She groaned. “You won’t. You totally won’t.”
And I felt so bad. “I’ll make time…”
“I don’t want you to make time, Hels. If you want to be there then be there.”
“But you…”
“I’ll survive. I’ve got Scottie, right? Things are really hotting up, too. It’s the real deal.”
I smiled. “It is?”
She nodded. “Totally. He’s crazy about me, have to keep telling him to cool it off, I mean, who wouldn’t be, right?” She grinned.
“Of course he is, you’re amazing.”
“Just hang out with me a bit, yeah? If you want to. I’d like that.”
My heart hurt, with guilt. Lizzie practically lived at ours over Christmas these past few years. Like a piece of the furniture. I took a breath, for myself. She had Scottie.
“Of course I will.”
***
I packed an overnight bag. A proper overnight bag, with a few days’ worth of clothes, and hair products, and my phone charger and everything.
And then I got Dad to drop me at the train station and pretended I was nipping up the line to Oakwall, where Harry Sawbridge lived.
I felt so guilty as I waved Dad away and joined the straggly little crowd on the platform, but that soon disappeared when Mark’s car pulled into the car park. I threw my bag in the back and slipped into my seat and I was beaming.
“Ready?” he said.
“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my entire life.”
I gabbled on and on throughout the journey up to his, my mouth running with everything and nothing. He listened and laughed, and smiled, and my stomach rolled over with nerves as he pulled onto the lane up to his. I watched the twinkly lights approach in the distance, and gave a big sigh as he pulled up outside.
“Home sweet home,” he said, then reached in the back for a shopping bag. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“You have?”
“Don’t get too excited, it’s not your Christmas present.”
Christmas present.
My heart was on fire.
He took my bag from the backseat and I followed him inside, and it was magical. The fire was already burning in the grate, and he’d filled the place with tinsel and fairy lights. And candles. So many candles. He dropped my bag on the sofa, and the shopping in the kitchen, then started lighting them up.
“I haven’t had decorations since Anna. Seemed little point. But now…”
“It’s beautiful.” And it was. It was so beautiful.
Holly and mistletoe hung from the ceiling beams, and there was a real tree in the corner of the dining room, decked out in reds and golds and flashes of white.
And then I noticed the table. It was clear of canvases and laid for two.
“You’re cooking?” I smiled. “For me?”
He beckoned me into the kitchen and rustled in the shopping bag. I laughed as he pulled out the box of potato waffles.
“What the lady wants…”
“I love you, Mr Roberts.”
God, how I loved him.
He fired up the oven, and put the dinner on, chicken breasts and waffles and baked beans on a low heat in the pan, only stopping when my fingers slid around his waist. I pressed myself into his back, breathing in the scent of his shirt, and he twisted, and pulled me under his arm and tipped my face up to his.
“I thought you’d be hungry. It’s been a long day.”
“I am…” I said, and my voice didn’t sound like mine. I took his hand, and guided his fingers to my lips. He swallowed as I sucked his thumb into my mouth.
“Christ, Helen. It drives me crazy when you do that.”
I smiled as I nipped him, and I felt his breath quicken.
“I’m so hungry, Mr Roberts…”
I dropped to my knees and my heart was racing. I wanted to hide my nerves, wanted to appear confident, but my fingers were dithery, and they fumbled at his belt.
“It’s ok,” he said. “Take your time.”
He was already so hard, and his cock looked so big as it stood before my eyes. I pressed my lips to the shaft, pinning it against his belly and he groaned. I wished I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t want to be a stupid kid anymore, didn’t want to keep being useless at everything. I remembered what he’d shown me as I guided him to my mouth, sucking him in, just a bit, my lips tight and tongue soft. It worked. He took a step backwards until he was pressed back against the worktop and he took my hair in his hands.
“Good girl… fuck, Helen… that’s so nice…”
I found a rhythm, and I kept to it, and this time I didn’t try and force him into my throat. I just enjoyed the taste of him, enjoyed the hardness of him in my mouth, and the way he tensed and pulsed and rocked into my movements.
“Helen, look at me.”
I didn’t even realise I had my eyes closed. His eyes were dark with excitement and they set me alight.
“You are so beautiful, Helen.”
It made my heart soar.
His balls felt heavy in my hand, and the hair tickled my fingers, and I liked it. I liked the way they moved as he rocked his hips, I liked the way he smelled as he held me tight to his belly and asked me to open wide for him.
I liked the way he angled my head and pushed his way into my mouth.
I loved the way it made me feel when he got too excited to be gentle. I loved the way he groaned at the gurgles my mouth was making.
“Good girl… Fuck, Helen, you’re such a good girl…”
I loved being his good girl.
I wrapped my arms around his thighs and gave my all to him, and he took me that way until his breath was ragged and his legs were tense and I could feel him tighten in my mouth.
“We can stop…” he breathed. “Wait until after…”
I pulled away, and it left a string of saliva between my lips and his cock and it transfixed me. I shook my head.
“I want it now… I want you to come in my mouth… please…”
“You’re sure?”
I didn’t need to answer, just opened wide and stared up at him.
“Then let’s see if we can do this properly this time, shall we?”
He stroked my hair and stroked his cock, and I stayed statue still, watching him play, watching the bulging veins as his cock strained, waiting and wanting, with the nerves fizzing around my belly.
“Get ready, Helen…”
I was ready. More than ready. I gripped his thighs and stretched my mouth as wide as it would go.
He gave a couple of little grunts, and his thighs tightened, and his fingers twisted in my hair and held me still. He pressed his cock to my bottom lip, and it jerked and quivered, and a flood of thick salty cum filled my mouth. It didn’t taste nice in the way that things usually taste nice, but I loved it, loved the feel of it on my tongue. I smiled when he spurted again, and he lost control, pushing his cock between my lips and coming some more.
“Show me,” he said and I opened wide for him and his cum dribbled over the corner of my mouth and the smile on his face made me love him even more.
“Swallow,” he said, and I did, straight down without hesitation and his cock twitched again before my eyes.
“Clean me, Helen.”
I sucked him. I sucked all the cum from him, and I licked him clean.
He thumbed the dribble from my chin into my mouth, and I sucked that, too.
“You’re amazing,” he said, and pulled me to my feet.
I startled as his lips found mine, and he kissed me deep. Kissed me with the taste of his cum still in my mouth, and it felt like love, true love.
“That was wonderful,” he breathed, and the world was full of that wonderful man, and his wonderful touch.
And then the baked beans boiled over.
Mark
The girl was a wonder. A spirited, vivacious little parcel of devilment. It was in her eyes, shining deep, this need awakened within. Her sweet little soul was dancing with mine, her toes poking mine under the dining table as I spooned baked beans onto her plate.
I uncorked a bottle of red and she tilted her head from side to side.
“Me and Lizzie usually have it fizzy.”
I choked back a laugh. “This is a fine vintage. I think you’ll like it.” I poured her a glass and she swirled it around and gave it a sn
iff as though she knew what she was doing.
“Fruity. Smells nice.”
“A great accompaniment for potato waffles, it comes highly recommended.”
Her eyes sparkled. “You’re mocking me.”
“I’m loving you, Helen, I’d never mock you.”
Her cheeks blushed red and her lips parted. Magical.
“I’ve never had candlelight waffles before.” She smiled and held up her glass. “Thank you.”
“What are we toasting? Candlelight waffles?” I held up my glass.
“To a beautiful Christmas, Helen and Mark,” she said, and suddenly the girl in her was gone again, and a young woman stared at me through pretty dark eyes.
“I’ll toast to that.”
I’d be a liar if I said the meal was the finest I’d ever tasted. It was bland and processed, and entirely unimaginative, but it was worth it to see the enjoyment on Helen’s face.
“What’s your very favourite food?” she asked.
I had to think. “I’m partial to a really decent calamari. When we go to the seaside, I’ll show you.”
“When we go to the seaside?”
“I imagine you do want to go, yes?”
She dazzled me with a smile. “Which beach?”
“Anywhere you want.” I paused. “And Aberystwyth, of course.”
She took a breath. “You’ll come and visit?”
“If you want me there.”
“You’ll really come?” Her eyes were glistening, and it amazed me. Something so simple yet it seemed to mean so much.
“I’ll really come.”
She reached a hand across the table, and I ran my thumb across her knuckles. And then she whispered, so quietly I could barely hear her. “Come with me... for good.”
I nearly choked on my baked beans. “Sorry?”
She regretted it as soon as the words were out of her mouth, I could tell, she shook her head and pulled a face and went back to her dinner. “That was stupid, forget it.”
“We have a deal remember?”
She nodded. “I know. I remember what I promised. I just… I got carried away.”
I squeezed her hand. “I couldn’t leave here. I’ve grown into this place and it’s grown into me.”
“And Anna…”
