Debs sat on my lap and pulled my dick up between her legs and squeezed it between her soapy thighs. Then she began shifting up and down a little and I could feel her slick pussy lips rubbing against the shaft of my cock. She stroked the tip, which just about poked out of the water. My hands went around her and massaged her slippery globes. Her tits were sagging a little more than the last time I’d seen them, but I didn’t care. There was something nostalgic about the experience.
She stayed in that position for a long time, clearly enjoying the sensation. She craned her neck around so we could kiss over her shoulder and one of my hands slid down the gentle roll of her tummy and found its way down into her dark thatch. I rubbed gently and she grunted in appreciation. Then she lifted herself up, leaned forward and stuck her backside into my face. It took me a bit by surprise, but I got into it after a while. I nuzzled against her cheeks at first, and then slipped my tongue into her soapy crack. She was clean and it didn’t taste of anything, and she loved it, pressing her arse back onto my face. She had one hand on my cock all the time. She reached one hand back around and I felt something wet pour down her back and between her cheeks, it was champagne. The bubbles tickled my nose and I dived in, lapping up the sweet nectar.
Once she was well and truly wet and ready, she sat back down, more slowly this time, guiding me with one hand. She moaned as my cock pressed into her tight anus. She seemed to want more and she forced herself down onto me. I was a bit taken aback, I didn’t expected this, but I wasn’t complaining, it felt tight in there and it hurt a bit, but I expect it hurt her more – she was wet back there but she’d not used any lube.
She worked herself up and down, clenching her muscles in a way that suggested she’d done this before. I found it hard to gain any purchase though, so when she asked me to go a bit harder, I grabbed her round the belly and flipped her over, staying inside her all the time. Then I was on my knees, behind her as the bath water sloshed over the side, and I had more control. I began pounding into her. I could see her heavy breasts swaying as I fucked her in the arse. Just yesterday I’d been counting my lucky stars that Mand had forgiven me and I’d been sure I’d never so much as look at another woman, and here I was twenty-four hours later in a hotel bathroom, fucking an old flame up the jacksy.
What’s most strange though was that I didn’t really feel guilt about it. I didn’t feel anything except animal lust.
I didn’t see Debs again. She didn’t live near; she’d just been in Manchester on business. We kept in touch by e-mail, but neither of us made any attempt to arrange another meeting, she was married too and we both knew the score, always had.
I’d like to tell you Debs was the last affair I had, but I’d be lying if I did. She wasn’t even close to the last. There was my secretary for example, a few months later. I’d employed her specifically because she was the only one of the three I interviewed who I didn’t fancy. So why was it I was caught shagging her in the plane toilet on the way to a meeting in Frankfurt? It was only the flight attendant who caught me, so that didn’t matter. In fact, I’d left the toilet unlocked because I wanted to be caught. It got me horny, the thought we might get seen by someone. Felt sorry for poor old Fiona, the secretary, though. She had her skirt up and her knickers down. I was standing on the toilet with my cock in her mouth when the door opened. I had to jam a fist in my mouth to stop myself laughing at the sight of her face.
And after her there was the hotel receptionist at a conference in London. I hardly said anything to her, just winked and asked her if she was going to turn my sheets down personally. She was waiting for me when I came back into the room that night. What was I to do? A hunter takes every opportunity. You never know when there’s going to be another.
Anyway I won’t list them all. I’ll just mention the last one, because it was her that Amanda found me in bed with. It’ll make you cringe when I tell you; it’s a bit of a cliché. I only went and shagged the au pair, didn’t I? Mand was visiting her mum with Jamie, and I couldn’t go for some reason, can’t remember why now. The au pair came back late, a bit drunk and sat up with me watching telly. Something saucy was on and we had a couple of drinks and, well, I don’t need to spell it out, one thing led to another and Mand found us asleep on the couch together, naked and with two used condoms on her nice new carpet. Luckily Jamie was behind her and didn’t see. She shoved him back outside, closed the door and told us to get cleaned up.
Two days later the au pair was on a flight back to Russia and I was filling out the application for this place.
I know I’m supposed to tell you everything, but please don’t make me describe the look on Mand’s face when we sat down to discuss what had happened. Don’t make me tell you what she said to me, or the snot-nosed begging I did in return. All you need to know is that I love Mand and I desperately want to change. I need to change. I need to find this bit of me that makes me behave like a hunter. I see that other men don’t have it so much as me. I need to find it and cut it out so I can be more like them. I need to stop hunting, because I’ve found the woman I want.
And that’s it. That’s all I’m saying. Sorry.
‘Well done, Will,’ Verity said, breaking the silence. Will sat back down and put his head in his hands. Shelley could understand why he’d been nervous. No one likes a cheat. The rest of them were betraying no one but themselves, but Will’s addiction was tearing a family apart.
‘Good for you, Will,’ Cheryl said.
‘That was very brave,’ Cliff added.
Then Will stood and left the room, head down. Shelley thought she detected a tear running down his cheek. No one said anything. They were lost in their own reflections. Shelley could hear the April wind rushing through the copse of laurel trees out on the lawn.
‘There’s a time and a place for jokes and fun,’ Verity said, eventually. ‘But we must remember why we’re here. Sex addiction isn’t some tabloid fantasy. It is real, and it destroys lives. Now we must support Will, and not judge him. I’ll see you all back here in half an hour for our next session.’
Chapter Eleven
Shelley wasn’t sure how to feel about Will after his confessional. On one hand she was appalled by his misogyny and his arrogance. He evidently believed that biological processes were to blame for his behaviour, that he was genetically predisposed to be unfaithful, and the implication was that men who didn’t behave in this manner were emasculated. It wasn’t just in the bedroom that Will felt he had Alpha male status, but in the boardroom too. The obvious relish and attention to steamy detail in his account suggested he felt proud of his conquests. He wasn’t just being honest, he was boasting.
On the other hand, Will was a more complex character than Shelley had originally given him credit for. Everyone had their good points, but Shelley was surprised to find them in such abundance in Will: it was like popping into an Aldi, hoping to pick up some cheap kitchen towels, only to find they also had an excellent selection of goats’ cheese.
He was unreconstructed, sure, but he obviously loved his wife and child deeply, and genuinely wanted to change in order to keep his family together. The story of how Will and Amanda had come to be together in the first place was tragic, yet beautiful. There was tenderness and compassion in the man.
Will was asking for help and had taken a brave step coming here in the first place. As they left the room and headed towards the canteen for lunch, Shelley reflected on the fact that however awful someone’s actions seem to the casual observer, there’s always a back story, always some reason why they do the things they do. Will justified his actions to himself, but at the same time recognised they were unacceptable not just to his wife, but to society at large, hence the efforts to hide his affairs even from his colleagues.
Most people left the room and wandered out to use the loos or grab a coffee, Shelley went off by herself to the dining room. She wanted to sit by herself to get her head around what she’d just heard. She wanted to be true and fair to Will when she wrote it
out later that night, but as she sat down with her muffin and tea, someone came up to her. She looked up to see it was Will.
‘Hi,’ he said. He looked different. Nervous and a little worried.
Shelley smiled, guessing he was concerned about how he had come across, and whether they’d all laughed at his tears. A man with an ego the size of Will’s cared very much how he appeared to others. ‘You were fine, Will,’ she said. ‘You were honest and very … graphic.’
He smiled. ‘Great!’ he said and sat down. Shelley frowned, it hadn’t been an invitation. She wasn’t quite sure she was ready to be friends with the serial adulterer yet. He was about to speak when Verity appeared from nowhere and plonked herself down next to him. Verity frowned on people sitting in pairs and usually managed to insinuate herself into such situations before they descended into rampant sex.
Will’s attempts at small talk suggested to Shelley he was anxious to speak with her, but not with Verity there. As it happened, she began to wish Verity wasn’t there as well. There were a few details of Will’s story she wanted clarification on for her article, particularly the parts involving Debs and the bathtub, but she couldn’t very well ask him about that with the stern-faced counsellor present.
Shelley sipped her tea, let her mind drift and found herself wondering what Aidan would do if she tried to jam a toe up his hairless bum. Maybe she’d get her P45. Maybe he’d shoot his load over her ankle.
The thought took her back to her first proper date with Tom. He’d taken her in to Bristol to see a ‘thinking film’ as he put it. It turned out to be Casino, with Robert de Niro and Joe Pesci. Shelley enjoyed the film, but wasn’t sure it struck quite the right note for a romantic evening with a new person in your life. Still, it kept Tom transfixed, and apart from the awkward moment when he put his arm round her just as Joe Pesci’s character forces Sharon Stone to give him a blow job, it felt okay. In fact, it felt comfortable and easy, with just that little hint of ‘what-will-happen-after-the-film’ anticipation to liven things up.
Tom rode with her on the bus back home, even though he lived in a different direction, and when they got to her house he got off even though he would have done better to stay on and change at Redland Station. They stood out on the footpath, the night warm and heavy with expectation.
‘I really liked it tonight,’ Shelley said.
‘Yeah, me too,’ Tom replied, looking at his feet.
Shelley felt odd. There was a warm, tingly feeling in her lower abdomen. She wasn’t due a period. Maybe this was the feeling her parents had told her about when they’d given her the birds and the bees lesson. They’d left it far too late of course, she knew the salient points already and she’d been old enough to want to run screaming out of the room in embarrassment. But they’d told her, and she remembered. You were supposed to feel something like this when you liked a special person.
‘Don’t suppose I can come in?’ he mumbled. So that was why he was looking so nervous.
‘No,’ she said shaking her head sadly. He looked up, a flash of annoyance in his eyes, and she grew scared, was he going to turn out like all the others? But he nodded, ‘No, of course, I understand. Anyway, see you.’
He turned and walked off.
‘Hey,’ Shelley called. He stopped and spun around.
‘Where’s my goodnight kiss?’
He grinned and jogged back. They kissed properly, as if they were both ready and could see each other, for the first time. It was nice, Shelley thought afterwards, but at the time she was just thinking about whether she was doing it right. She broke off first and hugged him.
‘Thanks for being lovely,’ she said. He shrugged. She kind of guessed he wouldn’t be so lovely given half the chance, but boys are pragmatic. Keep plugging away and eventually you might get there, they think.
Then she did something impulsive. She whispered into his ear. ‘My parents are going shopping with my sister on Saturday, they’ll be out of the house all day, wanna come over?’
He nodded like a toy dog on a parcel shelf.
‘See you then,’ Shelley said and walked off, swinging her hips, realisation suddenly dawning that she was a woman now. She could do things like this.
The afternoon session was called ‘Sex? No Thanks. What Else Have You Got?’
Shelley had to fight the urge to walk to the whiteboard and change the last part to ‘What Else do You Have?’, but that would be taking the grammatical guerrilla war to an entirely new level.
On the way to the room, Verity had fallen into step beside Shelley. ‘You seem to have attracted an admirer in Mr Trewin.’
Shelley blushed a little. She wasn’t sure she entirely agreed with Verity but kept her own counsel. Will obviously felt some kind of connection with her, but Shelley wasn’t accustomed to getting much male attention, and she wondered if maybe Will just wanted to talk to her, as a friend. Surely part of the recovery process was learning to have friends of the opposite sex without trying to sleep with them? She had to button her lip. Too many questions and Verity might get suspicious. The counsellor turned around to make sure they weren’t being overheard.
‘Please try and stay away from him, let’s keep temptation as far away as we can.’
Shelley nodded, feeling a little uncomfortable. What was all the talk about helping each other out? She didn’t think it right two members of the group should be told not to talk to each other.
In the Mountain Room, Verity began taking them through a list of distraction techniques to avoid temptation. ‘Why not try riding a bike?’ she suggested, ‘or heading down to the gym?’
Shelley doubted these activities would help much. Her gym was always filled with attractive, well-toned young men fighting over the weights. If she were a genuine sex addict, the gym would be the last place she’d want to be. She’d be better off staying at home and watching the Shopping Channel. Riding a bike though? Cyclists were very clubby; Shelley felt a little intimidated by them, but maybe once you were in there would be plenty of opportunities to meet new friends, male friends specifically. She found herself thinking about cyclists’ bodies, those powerful piston legs pumping tirelessly …
‘Shelley?’ Verity was saying. She snapped out of her fantasy. ‘What other methods could you think of for avoiding sex?’
Manga conventions, Shelley nearly said. But instead she offered, ‘Er … gardening?’
‘Yes,’ Verity replied, beaming. ‘Do you have a garden, Shelley?’
‘I certainly do,’ Shelley replied, thinking of the tangled shrubbery in her pants. ‘And there’s nothing I like more than to get the old hedge trimmers out of an evening and hack away at the undergrowth.’
‘Excellent!’ Verity said, and moved on the next person.
Shelley smiled to herself. Well, you had to make your own fun around here.
During the session, the group members were popping off, one by one, to see Dr Galloway. Rose arrived back, a little pink-cheeked, and plumped down next to Shelley. Verity had cornered poor old Larry and was trying to get him to name five pursuits he could do to spend a Friday night other than surfing the internet for hard-core bondage porn. He wriggled uncomfortably.
‘Amputee porn?’ he suggested, after some consideration.
‘You’ll like the sesh with the Doc,’ Rose whispered to Shelley, winking. ‘He asked me to send you in next.’
Shelley excused herself and walked down to Dr Galloway’s office wondering what Rose meant.
She knocked and Dr Galloway’s rich Irish baritone called her in. She stopped short after entering though. Dr Galloway was perched on the edge of his desk, obviously having chosen the pose as more welcoming and informal. What it did though was expose a large bulge in his tight trousers. Shelley felt like she had to say hello twice.
Galloway motioned her into a seat immediately in front of him and she sat down, now eye-level with the lump in the doctor’s chinos. How on earth were you supposed to distract yourself from sexual thoughts when dishy docto
rs were shoving their over-stuffed tackle boxes into your face?
‘Thanks for popping in, Ms Carter,’ Galloway began.
‘Call me Shelley,’ she said immediately. She always said this in formal situations as she’d been trained to do at university. The idea was that by making the situation more chummy the other person would open up more readily. Shelley hoped to get something usable for her piece out of the doctor today.
‘Okay, and please call me Mick,’ he said, twinkling a little and shifting position slightly. Shelley tried to keep her eyes up and away from his crotch.
‘Now, I need to ask you a few questions about your medical history,’ Mick went on. ‘Just to make sure there are no physical causes for your addiction, you understand?’ Shelley nodded, a little nervous. As a nurse, she was going to be expected to know terms and names for things that the other group members wouldn’t.
‘Now, you’ve recently returned from Australia,’ Dr Galloway said, peering at a sheet of paper in his hand.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Shelley replied. ‘I worked for a number of small, community hospitals. Paediatrics mostly, that’s my area of specialisation. I did work for a large hospital in Cairns, the Royal Adelaide.’
‘That’s great, that’s terrific,’ Dr Galloway said without looking up from his paper, in that infuriating way doctors have that makes you suspect they haven’t listened to you at all and are therefore just about to give you the wrong medicine.
Confessions Page 11
