by Holly Martin
‘OK, but what about all that kiss stuff? The first kiss matters, people have broken up over the first kiss.’
‘True, but when Kat first met Big Dave she said it was like kissing a lizard but they’ve been together for five years now. If Giselle really likes you and the kiss is crap then she’ll just gently teach you how she likes it.’
‘Tongue or no tongue?’
‘It depends. If it’s a sweet tender first kiss then no, if it’s a passionate kiss then for me yes, but some women don’t really like tongues. Let her lead by example, or if you really want to then maybe just a little bit of tongue and see if she reciprocates.’
‘OK, where do I put my hands?’
‘Just where it feels right to do so. Round the waist is nice, round the face can be good as well. One hand round the back of the neck is very nice too; the back of the neck is a very sensitive spot.’
‘Bum?’
‘Sure, some women might like a little stroke, but don’t squeeze it. Not on the first date, it’s a bit too soon for that. Stuff like that can come later, when you’re comfortable with each other.’
‘OK, good to know and, erm… what about dirty sex, what would that entail?’
‘What?’ she asked, sipping her tea.
‘I need help with that too, Lib.’
She stared at him. Were they really going to practise having sex? But as shocked as she was that he might be suggesting that, the idea was suddenly very appealing.
* * *
Seb was downstairs in the pub, bouncing the white cue ball off the far side of the pool table, catching it and bouncing it again.
The pub wouldn’t be open for hours yet.
He heard a noise behind him and he turned to see Amy in her robe, her hair wet from the shower. He turned away from her, leaning his hands on the pool table.
‘I’m going to stay with Libby for a few days. I can’t do this – I thought it would be fun, but it’s hell.’ He heard her walk closer and then she was by his side, leaning her back against the pool table.
He swallowed. ‘I don’t want you to go.’
‘We both know this isn’t working. I can’t be here and not touch you, not be touched by you, it’s driving me mad.’
‘I agree. I can’t have you here and not touch you.’
‘You think I should go then.’
He turned to face her. He put a hand on her waist and slid her along the edge of the pool table so she was standing in front of him, her eyes were wary.
‘I was actually thinking of touching you.’ He slid a hand underneath her robe, rubbing his thumb over her nipple.
To his surprise, though, she slapped his hand away. ‘Don’t do that, don’t tease me. You can have me, you know that, but don’t tease me with what could be, it’s not fair. You can either have all of me or none of me.’
With blood burning through his veins, he undid her robe. ‘Then I’ll take all of you.’
* * *
‘Sex?’ Libby asked. ‘You want me to help you with that?’
George nodded and she choked on her tea. ‘How do you suppose I help you with that, we go into the bedroom now, roll around for the next few hours and then I’ll mark you out of ten for that too?’
‘No, of course not.’
Libby couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment that suddenly crashed through her.
‘I just need a few pointers,’ George explained. ‘What do women go for these days?’
‘I can’t help you with that, sex is very personal. I have no idea what Giselle would like in bed. Women go for lots of different things. Some like it hard and fast, some like it soft and gentle. Some women like it on top, some like the man to go on top, some like oral sex a lot, some can’t stand it, some like anal sex, sex in the shower, against a wall, on the kitchen table, on the stairs, outdoors, indoors, places where you’re likely to get caught…’
He visibly paled, looking suddenly panic-stricken.
‘…and if you believe some of these magazines, some people go for all sorts of positions, the cobra, the elephant, the palm tree, the crab, the scales, the—’
‘Hang on, hang on, are we still talking about sex here?’
She smiled at his naivety, and nodded. ‘Your Giselle might be into whips, handcuffs and gimp masks for all I know.’
He sighed. ‘What’s wrong with the good old-fashioned missionary position? OK, OK, you look relatively normal, how do you like it?’
She smirked at the ‘relatively normal’ comment. ‘I guess I’m old-fashioned really, sex for me is really intimate. Lots of people close their eyes when they have sex, and I don’t know why they do that. Are they imagining they are with someone else? I always keep my eyes open; I want to look into the eyes of the one I’m with. I’m not really bothered which position, I just want to be held really, I want to be stroked and kissed all over, sex for me should be beautiful and tender and soft,’ she said, wistfully, staring off into space.
‘Sounds perfect,’ he said.
‘I bet sex with you would be good, you can get a feel for how someone would make love by the type of person they are.’
There was a stunned silence from him then he laughed, and she sensed he did so to break the tension.
‘What do you like in bed?’ Libby asked.
He took a deep breath, clearly to prepare himself to answer that question. ‘Well, you know I’ve only ever been with one woman?’
She smiled; she found that so endearing.
‘Yeah, don’t laugh. It’s just the way things turned out. Josie was my childhood sweetheart, we were together since we were sixteen, married when we were twenty and divorced when we were twenty-eight. There hasn’t been anyone since.’
‘So what was sex like with Josie, before she cheated on you? I bet it was beautiful, sex with the woman you loved.’
‘I think sex was ultimately the reason we broke up,’ he sighed. ‘I guess neither of us really knew what we were doing when we started having sex. At first we were just fumbling around, but then later it was beautiful. I used to hold her in my arms, and kiss her and to just feel her under me, her hot skin against mine, was the most amazing feeling. To watch her come, to see her getting pleasure out of something that I was doing was the best feeling ever.’
Libby smiled.
‘But slowly she seemed to lose her appetite for it. She was never really a sexual person, it would always be me that instigated sex, but over the years she just didn’t want to do it any more. I was OK about it, at first – I just wanted her to be happy. We were so good together, in many other ways, maybe sex wasn’t the be all and the end all. It turns out she was getting sex elsewhere, with Chase Kent, the sexiest-looking bloke I’ve ever seen. I’m not gay, as you know, but even I could appreciate how bloody good-looking he was. When we finally broke up she said that sex was amazing with Chase, that he was so adventurous. All the things you spoke about before, sex in the shower, in the garden, on the beach, they’d done all of that. But she never said anything to me that she thought our sex was boring. In fact, we’d watched this porn film together once; this couple were having sex everywhere. I suggested that we could try some of those positions. She laughed and said sex wasn’t like that, that most of the positions looked really uncomfortable and she was more than happy doing it in bed like a normal person. If she’d said something I would have done something different, I would have gladly done all those things, we could have experienced them for the first time together. I just thought she wasn’t interested in sex, and I didn’t push it. I just wanted her to be happy. I was gutted, when I found out. Not just because she had cheated on me, but that it was sex with me that was so bad that I had driven her away.’
‘Oh George, you can’t think like that, you can only grow sexually if the person you are with wants to grow with you. With you just wanting to make her happy and her not saying anything to you, you would never have changed, why would you?’
‘Lib, it’s nice of you to say but if you cook me car
rot soup and I tell you I love it, you’re not going to cook me carrot soup every time I come round, are you? You might try tomato soup one day, onion soup the next. Josie got carrot soup almost every day for the first few years. No wonder she went elsewhere for sex. She was bored stupid by it.’
‘She should have said something, men aren’t mind readers. In fact, my experience of men shows they don’t pick up on subtleties at all.’
‘Well,’ he sighed, ‘I’ve kind of been put off sex a bit since then. What if the next woman I’m with finds me boring as well? What if I really am crap in bed?’
‘You won’t be. You’re lovely and sweet and kind, I bet you make love like that as well. Any woman would appreciate that. The fun stuff can come later.’
‘But what if Giselle is into all that weird stuff? What if, during the throes of passion, she shouts, “Hey, big boy, do the cobra on me.” What do I do then?’
Libby smiled to herself at the ‘big boy’ reference. ‘Well then you just have to be honest and say something like “Sounds lovely, but you’re going to have to point me in the right direction, I’m not sure I know that one.”’
‘Won’t she mind, that I’m completely clueless?’
‘Nah, she’ll like to educate you, to teach you in the ways of Giselle.’
George looked doubtful.
‘Look.’ She stood up. ‘If you’re worried, why don’t you have a look through these?’ Libby went to the bottom shelf of her bookcase and picked up a pile of magazines. ‘This one does position of the week, it gives you step-by-step instructions on how to achieve it. This one has tips for how to please your woman in bed and this one has tips on how to please your man in bed – she should be doing stuff for you too, it shouldn’t just be about making her happy. This one has tips for giving good oral sex, a lot of women like oral sex, receiving it, especially. Ooh, this one references the Kama Sutra. There are some mad ones in there; one involves some pulley-type system where the maids lower the woman onto the man’s penis.’
He looked stunned as she handed him the pile.
‘And if that’s not enough, read a few of these erotic fiction books. There’s Belinda and the Bulge, Sex on the Beach – that one’s particularly good, there’s a cracking sex scene in there involving a hammock.’ Her hand hovered over her own books. She hadn’t wanted him to see them before because George knew the real her and she didn’t want him to read who she had pretended to be for the last fourteen years. But while her books weren’t erotica they did have sex scenes in them and George might find them more of a gentle introduction to sex in fiction. ‘Try these: The Night of the Storm, Après Ski and Cocktails on Ice.’
George handled the books carefully, like they were bombs about to explode. ‘You read this stuff?’
She smiled. ‘I write it.’
His eyes bulged. ‘You write porn?’
‘No, mine aren’t erotic fiction, they’re just romance with sex, there’s a big difference. The top three are mine. I am Libby Joseph by day, Eve Loveheart by night.’
‘You write porn?’ he managed again. ‘You’ve just been telling me that you like to be held, kissed softly, gently and all the while you’re writing this kind of stuff.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s not real though, that’s not what sex is really like, it’s fake.’
‘But women read this stuff and then expect it from us poor men. This is just false advertising.’
‘Women know this stuff isn’t real. Besides, most women don’t actually want stuff like that.’
He was quiet for a moment as he stared at the books she had given him, then he stood up. ‘Well I should go, let you get on with your work. Thanks for… this.’ He gestured with his collection of porn. ‘I’ll see you later.’
She nodded and watched him go, wistfully. Sex with him would be amazing.
* * *
Amy clung to Seb, her screams still echoing around the pool room, her body shaking as he held her to him. The man was certainly good with his hands. He had kissed her first, done nothing but kiss her, but then his hands had explored, caressed, finding the exact areas that made her weak. He had sat her on the edge of the pool table and as he kissed her deeply he had stroked the one spot that had sent desire and need crashing through her. She had wanted their first time together to be a mutual gratification, both simultaneously taking what was needed, but he was still fully clothed when she clung to him, screams of pleasure ripping from her throat.
‘Lie down,’ he ordered her, somewhere in the distance.
‘I don’t think I can move,’ she muttered, into the side of his neck.
He carefully disentangled himself from her arms and started to undress in front of her.
Suddenly feeling nervous, she looked away, but then she looked back. She had waited too long to deny herself this pleasure now. His body was beautiful, toned, muscular and long.
He moved closer, gently pushing her legs open so he was standing between them.
‘I think you’ll be more comfortable lying down, but I’ll take you here if need be,’ he said, his eyes watching hers as he moved his hands to her hips.
She smiled and lay down and he climbed up onto the pool table too, lying down on top of her, kissing her deeply. His mouth moved to her throat, then her breasts, his tongue hot against her flesh. His mouth was back on hers as he thrust into her, fast and hard. She flung her arm out, knocking a glass off the side of the table, where it smashed on the floor. He moved against her again, lifting his mouth from hers for just a second.
‘I’m taking that from your pay,’ he growled.
‘I don’t care,’ she laughed, and he smirked as he kissed her again.
* * *
Amy watched Judith knocking on the door of the pub from behind the upstairs curtain. Despite Seb’s best efforts, word that she was staying there had obviously spread fast and Judith clearly didn’t like it and had come to tell him just that. Really, Amy thought, she should just go down completely naked and open the door. Any misconceptions that Judith was harbouring or hoping for would be dispelled there and then. Anyone looking at her now would know she’d just had sex, amazing, fantastic sex, on his pool table of all places. She had that glow about her.
She smiled now as she thought of him. Yes, not even Judith banging angrily on the door below could snap her out of this good mood.
* * *
Judith was walking back through White Cliff Bay when she spotted Seb carrying a bag of shopping and a bouquet of flowers. It wasn’t hard to guess who the flowers were for, especially when he looked so guilty when he saw her.
‘Seb, I just came to see you, do you have time for a cup of tea and some cake?’
‘Of course, is everything OK?’ He ushered her into Linda’s bakery. Straight away the smell of mince pies and gingerbread assaulted her senses. Everyone was celebrating Christmas, but Judith still didn’t feel the season held anything to celebrate. He ordered them both a mug of tea and they sat down at a table.
‘It’s about Amy … I…’
Seb sighed. ‘Why do you hate her so much?’
‘I…’ The directness of his question threw her, not least because his tone was protective. There was so much she wanted to say to him. He had to know that her reasons for not wanting him to be with Amy had nothing to do with Marie or dishonouring her memory, but because she wanted the best for him, and Amy wouldn’t give him that.
‘Do you love her?’
Judith had his full attention now, his eyes were ablaze, but she couldn’t identify the emotions playing across his face.
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Are you sleeping with her?’
‘No.’
She strongly suspected he was lying to her and that hurt her too.
‘I don’t think you should see her.’
He reached out for her hand. ‘I know it must have been difficult for you to see me kissing her the other night, I understand that the prospect of me moving on must be hard. I never want to do anything to hurt
you, but who I go out with is my business.’
‘Amy’s not good for you, you must see that.’
‘Why is she not good for me?’
‘Well amongst many, many reasons, one of the worst is that she’s a prostitute.’
He stared at her in shock for a second then burst out laughing. ‘Judith, that’s ridiculous. I know you hate her but you can’t start spreading rumours about her, and to be honest I expected more of you than—’
‘I’m not lying,’ she said, affronted. ‘I don’t like the girl, I admit that. After what she let her nephew do to my gnomes last year, and then the way she embarrassed me in front of my friends by running round her garden naked and dressed as a penis, and after what she did to Philippe, I think the girl is vile, but I would never make something like that up.’
Seb stopped laughing, suddenly taking her seriously. ‘What makes you think she’s a prostitute?’
‘Every Tuesday morning Jackson Cartwright turns up at her house. She opens the door, only in her dressing gown, they go upstairs, she closes the bedroom curtains, and then he leaves after an hour, and pays her on the doorstep. Sometimes she doesn’t bother to close her curtains, and I’ve seen her wandering around naked in her room and he’s been in there as well. I mean, I’ve not actually seen them having sex, but I think it’s pretty obvious what they’re getting up to.’
Seb’s face was very readable now, he was hurt and angry. Judith hadn’t wanted that but he had a right to know.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly.
‘I’ve got to get back. The pub opens in an hour and there’s lots to do.’
She watched him go, his whole body tense, and she couldn’t help the relief that flooded through her.
* * *
Seb drove back to the pub, his mind elsewhere. Amy had a past, he knew that, knew there’d been other men before him, but for her to prostitute herself… She had a lot of jobs though to pay the bills – had she resorted to prostitution as well? He’d always assumed she wasn’t short of money, that she could have more shifts in any of her jobs. Hell, he’d have given her more shifts if she was short of cash.
