by Guy Lilburne
My predicament made her laugh, but then she assured me that I was all that she wanted. She kissed me goodnight. She hadn’t asked me into the house, and so nothing else happened between us that night. It seems that now I was her boyfriend a casual blow job was out of the question, and she had already given me loads of presents, so it might have been rude to have asked for one.
Mandy’s contract was up on the house that she was renting, and that weekend I helped her move into another rented accommodation. I’m calling it an accommodation because it was the ground floor flat of a house that had been converted into two. It was a lot smaller than the house that she had been renting, but it was clean, newly refurbished and had a great bathroom with a huge corner bath/Jacuzzi. She still owned a huge house with her husband, but that was being rented out until as and when the divorce would be sorted.
It wasn’t a great effort to help her move because she only had personal belongings, but it still took most of Saturday to sort everything out. I brought some foodstuff and cooked an Italian meal of chicken in a tomato and herb sauce with pasta, and a very sexy looking salad, including red grapes and mandarin orange. We ate it by candlelight. Mariah Carey supplied the background music. Later we relaxed and kissed and cuddled on the settee and drank brandy and champagne. After a while, Mandy got up and said that she was going to run a bath. About 15 minutes later she walked back into the room. She was naked. She had a fantastic body, firm and well-toned. She walked over and picked up our two glasses and started to carry them out to the bathroom.
“Are you coming?” she called over her shoulder.
“I think I’m going to” I whispered.
She had put little candles all around the bathroom and bubble bath in the Jacuzzi. The bubbles had spilled over onto the tiled floor and glistened in the soft candle light. Mandy stepped into the tub and lowered herself into the bubbling water.
“Come on in, the water’s lovely.”
I didn’t bother to get undressed and got into the Jacuzzi fully clothed. Mandy’s initial gasp of shock quickly turned to laughter. We both laughed, and then kissed and laughed again. Mandy helped me pull off my wet clothes. We rolled around in the Jacuzzi, kissing and holding each other. Touching each other under the water. It was warm and very sexy. Her arms and legs wrapped around me. I was erect and throbbing. I pushed inside her and we made love in the sparkling bubbles of the Jacuzzi.
I moved my personal belongings in the next day. (Into her flat I mean!) Every single day that Mandy and I were together we made love. Sometimes it would be two or three times a day, sometimes even more than that, but there wasn’t a single day when we didn’t fuck at least once during the day. Mandy initiated it as much as I did. She liked wearing sexy underwear, and looked fantastic in stockings and suspenders. Sometimes she would come home in her uniform wearing no knickers, and she would just hitch her skirt up so I could see her shaved pussy, and I’d be on her like a dog. Sometimes, in the most unlikely places, at the most unlikely times, she would just get my cock out and give me a blow job or start fucking me. Sometimes she would smear ‘Kaygel’ on my fingers and then bend over in front of me and ask me to fuck her up the ass. It was almost as if we were in competition to out sex each other. Each day was sexy and seductive. Our relationship had become addictive.
I think we both quickly realised that we were falling in love. Once we realised, we just let it happen and it was the beginning of an emotional roller coaster ride that was passionate and intense, strong, scary and sexy.
Mandy’s husband used to ring her once a week to discuss the divorce, money, sale of the house, his pension and that sort of thing. Once he knew that I was on the scene he started ringing every day, sometimes more than once a day. He was jealous. It was quite clearly a role reversal of what he had done to her in the past. I tried to tell her that he didn’t want her back. He just didn’t want anyone else to have her. I thought that he was an arrogant bastard. The phone calls went on and on, and I felt more and more uneasy about it all and what was my part in all this. I didn’t know if he still loved Mandy, but I did know that she was still in love with him.
“Don’t worry babe” she would assure me. “It’s all over between me and him. I wouldn’t have him back now. I have no feelings for him at all now. I love you Graham.”
I accepted her words but didn’t believe them.
A few days later I decided to surprise Mandy. I finished work at 10.00 pm and Mandy was due to arrive back at Birmingham airport at 11.35 pm off a flight from Cyprus. I freshened up at work. I didn’t shave because the dark shadow that had grown since the morning suited me. I looked good. The unshaven look made me look a bit Italian. In years to come that same unshaven look would make me look more like Father Christmas, or Kenny bloody Rogers. I also looked good in my suit and with my tailored long dark overcoat; I could have been a model, an Italian model, cool and sexy. Well that’s how I felt anyway.
I thought that Mandy would be thrilled to see me standing there at arrivals. I thought that she would be delighted to introduce me to her colleagues, and show me off a bit. I bought a bouquet of flowers on the way to the airport.
I stood head and shoulders above the crowd waiting at arrivals. Maybe they were all just short people who might possibly be from some association of little people that were waiting to greet the rest of their club who had been out to Cyprus to represent England in the tiny person games. Or maybe I was just feeling ten foot tall, looking good, feeling cool, and waiting to meet my girlfriend; a beautiful and sexy air stewardess.
The plane landed and the crowd thinned out as they met their friends and family off the flight. I was one of the few left when the cabin crew and pilots walked out together in a gaggle. Mandy saw me and then looked away and pretended that she hadn’t. She started a conversation with the pretty little blonde stewardess walking next to her, so that she didn’t have to have eye contact with me again as she walked past.
In fact, I got a lot more attention from all the other cabin crew, who all had a good look, checked me out, looked me up and down and smiled. I was stunned by Mandy’s behaviour. What was going on?
I turned and walked out, dropping the flowers into the first bin I passed, and drove home. An hour later Mandy got home and she was very apologetic. She told me that she hadn’t told anybody at work that she was no longer with her husband. Even after a year apart they all thought that they had a perfect marriage and were happy together. She told me that on every flight she had to make up lies about what she and her husband are doing these days, or what they got up to on their days off. I wasn’t very impressed and I couldn’t pretend to be happy about it. More and more I felt as if I was just filling in for her husband, and at any moment I was going to be taken off and substituted. Her husband would come off the bench and take my place. I would be going for an early bath, alone!
A week later it got worse. Mandy asked me to move my things out, just for the weekend; so that her husband could come and stay with her while they sorted out the financial side of the divorce. We argued about it. I thought it was ridiculous. Why couldn’t the bastard stay in a hotel? Did he have to come at all? Why did she think solicitors had been invented? They didn’t have to see each other at all if she didn’t want to. The trouble was that she did want to, and I couldn’t talk her out of it. I knew what would happen, he didn’t want her back. He just wanted to fuck her to show me that he still could. I was wasting my breath with Mandy. She wanted him to stay. I knew that she still loved him. I moved out and he moved in for the weekend. Mandy promised that they would be sleeping in separate rooms and that they wouldn’t be making love. I didn’t believe her. She swore afterwards that nothing had happened between them. I didn’t believe her then either. She told me that everything had been sorted out about the divorce and asked me to move back in with her. My head told me not to, but my heart couldn’t resist her. So I moved back in and we settled down to
a relatively normal domestic life, but with a lot more sex. Her husband still phoned every day, along with a few other footballers who had heard that she and her husband were no longer together and wanted to know if she wanted to ‘go for a drink sometime?’.
An Irish bloke rang her a lot too. He was also an ex-footballer who was now manager of some Irish side. Mandy told me that they were just friends and that he had helped her through a very bad time when her husband first left her, but that they had never been lovers. I didn’t believe her about that either.
My life with Mandy became routine. We still made love every day that we were together, but I seemed to spend a lot of time alone in Mandy’s house. She would be away for five or six days at a time doing long haul flights. I would work all day and then sit at home alone waiting for her. She always rang me every day when she was away. Somehow it seemed to make it worse. She was always on a beach or by the pool, or out partying, or in, having a room party. She was having a great time and I wasn’t. At 4.00 am one morning she rang me and there was a lot of background noise and laughter. They were having a room party. Mandy suddenly said.
“Will you stop that a minute I’m on the phone!”
“Who are you talking to?” I asked.
“Roger the fucking octopus. He’s the pilot. He’s been throwing peanuts down my top all night and now he’s trying to take my bra off!”
If I said that I was delighted to hear Mandy and Roger having fun on the phone, I would be lying to you. I was too tired to have an argument with her. I said goodnight and put the phone down.
We did talk about it when she got back, but Mandy dismissed it as high spirits. It was normal behaviour for cabin crew to de-stress. After a long hectic flight and after four days of de-stressing parties, they would fly back. They should try working on deliveries, sales, stocks and staff if they want to know what stress is. I thought it was all bollocks, but I had to let it go. Mandy told me all the time that she was in love with me. I didn’t really believe that either, but it was nice of her to say it.
Mandy had now told all her colleagues at the airline that she and her husband had split up and were divorcing. And she told them about me. I got to meet quite a few of her friends and I felt as if my relationship with Mandy was getting stronger. Once that everyone knew about us, Mandy liked me taking her to the airport, or collecting her when she arrived back. There were lots of times when she had to fly in or out of different airports all over the UK and I would still be there at all sorts of hours to meet her, day and night.
I enjoyed driving up and down the country in her BMW, meeting Mandy, having a few drinks with the rest of the crew and then staying in a hotel for a few hours to make love and grab a few hours’ sleep before driving Mandy home and then going to work.
Sometimes it felt like hard work, but it always felt glamorous and exciting. The sex was always incredible and very addictive. There was a hedonistic atmosphere about cabin crew, and I was becoming part of it.
In October, Mandy took me with her on a flight to America. It only cost me £50 for the return flight and I stayed with Mandy in a Marriot Hotel in Orlando for four days. Although I had a seat I spent the entire flight, there and back, in the cockpit with the Captain and the First Officer. I have always enjoyed flying, but to see it all from the front of the aircraft was simply incredible.
I made friends with the cabin crew as well. They were all female, except for one and he obviously wanted to be. I hate stereotyping, but he really was as camp as Christmas. He couldn’t have been any more gay. He was great fun and flirted outrageously with the female crew, the pilot, the first officer and me. The pilot was quite an old fart and was married with grown up kids. But both he and the first officer seemed to have female cabin crew draped around them whenever they weren’t actually flying the plane. All the staff worked hard on the flight, but when they got to the hotel, it was four days of party time. I noticed that Jason, the gay air steward, seemed to have licence to grab the girl’s boobs, put his hand up their skirts, and kiss them whenever he felt the need. I also noticed that he got his balls squeezed quite a lot by the girls. I was starting to wonder whether or not he was really gay at all. Was it all an act? Maybe women just don’t mind being groped by gay men because they don’t feel threatened. Whatever the reason, Jason was having a great time, and I have to say that he was the life and soul of the trip. He was as funny as fuck.
When we all got to the hotel we ended up in one of the girls rooms and the bottles came. Everyone was getting drunk and having a good time. Jason was cuddled up with Jo, a very pretty dark-haired girl. They were giggling and whispering like a couple of little girls. After an hour of that they went into the bathroom together and locked the door. There were shrieks of laughter from the bathroom and the rest of the girls were laughing and banging on the bathroom door. The general consensus of opinion was that Jason must swing both ways, and was now up to his nuts in Jo.
When they came out they were all smiles, and there was a lot of drunken laughter. When somebody said, “What have you two been up to?” Jo pulled up her skirt to reveal her shaved fanny,
“Jason has just done my hair for me.”
Everyone fell about. I didn’t think it was all that funny, but I was happy to look at her shaved minge.
“I don’t think Jason is a proper hair stylist” I shouted above the laughter. “I think I would have done more with your centre parting!”
Everyone fell about even more.
I thought that Mandy was very well behaved on the trip, but I also realised that it was because I was there. Cabin crew must be one of the best jobs in the world. They have a wild time and travel all over the world, but if they are married or in a relationship, then it’s a lonely life for their partners. I think that some of the best parties I have ever been to were the room parties I had with the air stewardess girls.
I don’t think that the relationship between Mandy and I was perfect, but we had fallen in love with each other despite the setbacks. In the November, Mandy became agitated and I could tell that something was deeply concerning her. It went on for a couple of weeks before she just said “Graham, I think I might be pregnant.” I was instantly delighted, I even surprised myself, but I was genuinely happy. It was probably the best thing that could happen to our relationship. Mandy said that she had thought she was pregnant for the last two weeks and she had bought a home pregnancy testing kit. We went into the bathroom and she did the test. We kissed and held each other.
The test was positive. Mandy was pregnant, we both cried. I cried tears of joy, but I could tell that Mandy’s were tears of sadness.
“Do you want this?” she asked.
“Yes, of course, sweetheart, I’m delighted. This is fantastic. How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know Graham, if it was a year down the line then I would be very happy, but I think that this might be a year too soon.”
My heart sank. This was an unwanted baby, at least by one of us. I started to think about what I could say to encourage Mandy to make her feel more positive about it.
Something amazing was happening to us.
“Graham….I’m going to have an abortion.”
“What!”
I had heard her but found it hard to contemplate what she had just said. I’m not anti-abortion or anything like that, but everybody’s circumstances are different, and I wouldn’t have ever considered an abortion. The thought of it just wouldn’t have crossed my mind. Mandy had already decided. I was deeply shocked as the enormity of what she was saying sank in. My baby, our baby, seemed to be doomed already, and what could I do or say!
Looking back, I probably did the wrong thing. I tried to talk her into keeping it. She agreed to think about it and not do anything rash. We talked about the pros and cons every day. Sometimes Mandy seemed accepting about it, even happy. Other times she was sad and depr
essed. I felt under enormous pressure and I know that Mandy did too. The one thing we each knew beyond doubt was that I wanted this baby and Mandy didn’t.
November became December, Christmas came and went. Everything was quiet and a sadness haunted us. On Boxing Day Mandy said “I really don’t want to have a baby now. I’ve never felt so miserable. I need to have an abortion, but I need you to tell me that it’s OK to do that.”
“Mandy, I already know that you don’t want it, but I can’t tell you that it’s OK to abort it. I love you, but I love our baby too. I don’t want you to be sad. I know what you want to do, but as much as you want to abort it, I want to keep it. I just don’t know what else to say to you sweetheart.”
Mandy booked into a private clinic in Birmingham. In the first week in January I drove her there. We didn’t speak much on the journey. We parked up and went inside. I waited in the waiting room with some other sad people while I waited for Mandy as she had her abortion. I wondered if everyone could see the shame and the guilt that overwhelmed me. This didn’t feel right at all to me. A little over an hour later I was taken to a small recovery ward. Three of the six beds were occupied by crying women, one of them was Mandy, and I kissed her.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
“Yes,” she smiled.
I couldn’t tell her that I wasn’t OK.
