by Limey Lady
‘Not that old trick!’ She chuckled. ‘I think I might have to keep you tied up for a day or two. That should be long enough to scratch my itch.’
‘You'll kill me.’
‘You'll enjoy it.’ She emitted another throaty chuckle. ‘You're hard again, anyway, so no point in going to the loo. Not like that.’
She was right, of course. He didn't seem to be able to do anything but hard tonight. If he went like this he'd end up pissing on the ceiling. In the unlikely event he could even get started.
‘My turn then,’ he said.
‘Oh no,’ she countered, gripping him, letting her hand slide down his shaft, roughly bumping into his balls, ‘I’m not as easy as that.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Heather, I’m going to do the decent thing with your mate. You don’t have to keep tormenting me.’
‘No McGuire, you’re promising to do the decent thing with Joanna. I need something to hold over you before letting you clamber on board. To make sure you don’t change your mind.’
‘What . . .’
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, opening her bedside cabinet, ‘I’ll use a small one.’
*****
Natalie was relieved to be free of Christine’s sobbing, even if it was understandable. Their brief chat with Roger’s mother had not been a happy one. There was a strong possibility that Roger-Dodger would be spending his Christmas holiday sitting on the naughty stool. And, for some unfathomable reason, it was all Christine’s fault. Her invite to Christmas dinner had been very publically revoked.
Not that Roger would know yet; he was still very publically zonked.
Anyway, Christine hadn’t wanted to go back to the disco. In fact she never wanted to see or speak to anyone ever again. She’d said so at least a thousand times on their way back from Denholme.
‘Do you think she’ll be all right?’ Matthew wondered as they dropped her off at her parents’ doorstep.
‘Of course,’ Natalie replied, watching as the other girl weepily let herself in. ‘Roger will fess up in the morning. He won’t let her take the blame.’
‘Will he fess up about the coke?’
‘Not if he values his life. I bet he just says he had a couple of iffy pints.’
‘And that Christine wasn’t even there?’
‘Yep, that would be the manly thing to do. It’s what you would do, isn’t it?’
‘Hell, yes ma’am,’ Matthew said, doing a surprisingly good John Wayne accent. Then, reverting to his usual Yorkshire teenager: ‘Is that what Jamie would do?’
Natalie glanced at him, seeing how he had his eyes fixed rigidly on the road.
‘Jamie doesn’t do drugs,’ she said. ‘And he never has enough money to get really drunk.’
They were passing the Parish Church, only a few hundred yards away from school. Matthew drove them sedately past a police car lurking at the foot of Cemetery Road. The officers inside had a good look at them but didn’t deign to follow.
‘If he did though,’ Matthew said.
‘Of course he would.’
‘You really like him, don’t you?’
Natalie remembered the gentleness of Matthew’s first kiss. And those fires she had felt building in him when she’d given him her own, far fiercer version.
‘I like him a lot,’ she said, feeling her cheeks flush. ‘That’s why I can’t see anyone else right now.’
‘I know,’ he said. Then, after taking a left into the school grounds and steering towards the car park: ‘Nobody would dare to try to see you, anyway. Not with Jamie to contend with.’
‘Jamie isn’t like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like the violent thug you seem to think he is.’
‘That’s not what I think. I’ve known him for years. He’s a decent bloke. He never actually starts a fight. But . . .’
‘But . . .’
‘But he’s not someone to get on the wrong side of.’
They parked up and got out of the Fiat.
‘Matthew,’ Nat said. ‘You’ve never got on the wrong side of anyone in your life. You wouldn’t know how to. You’re too laid-back.’
‘Thank you. I think.’
She took hold of his hand. ‘Come on. Let’s get inside before it starts snowing.’
‘It’s not that cold.’
‘Why are you shaking then?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because Jamie has already caught us at it, snogging tonight. If he catches us again, holding hands he might get really jealous. And laid-back or not, I know jealousy is something that might make him kick off.’
‘Oh Matthew,’ she said, squeezing his hand tighter, now determined not to let go. ‘What are you like?’
‘Like seventeen . . . cute . . . in need of a loving female . . .’
‘I’ll get you Jayne’s number.’
Matthew shuddered. ‘I need to be loved, not eaten alive.’
‘Okay, what about Julie?’
‘What about me waiting until Jamie’s safely in the Army?’
This time he returned her curious glance.
He was seventeen . . . cute . . . in need of a loving female . . . and obviously very, very nervous.
‘Is that a statement of intent?’ Natalie wondered.
Matthew looked incredibly self-conscious but managed to mumble, ‘I suppose it is.’
‘This is really sudden.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes,’ she said, although not quite truthfully. There had been something between them ever since they had met, way back in September. And it was more than a mere wavelength thing. It was something which so far hadn’t been properly explored, because of Jamie.
‘I’d be flattered if you did wait,’ she resumed carefully. ‘But it will be a long one. Are you sure I can’t fix you up with Julie?’
‘Is that your way of saying I’ve no chance?’
‘Not until Jamie’s out of my life. I’m sorry Matthew, but I couldn’t bring myself to cheat.’
‘And I couldn’t bring myself to get bashed.’ He laughed. ‘Maybe there’ll be a proper war and he’ll get called up early.’
‘Don’t say that. I have nightmares about roadside bombs as it is.’
‘I didn’t mean it.’
‘I know you didn’t. Come here.’
They stopped directly outside the entrance to the Sixth Form Centre and kissed for the third and final time that night. Keeping it gentle on both sides, letting the fires smoulder without fanning them too much.
‘I like you,’ she told him before going inside. ‘I like you a lot. But I mean it about cheating. Don’t waste your life waiting for something that might never happen.’
‘Hey,’ he said, his mouth smiling, eyes clouded. ‘I may be a cowardy custard but I’m patient, me. I can do jigsaws, watch grass grow . . . I once even watched Gone with the Wind all the way through.’
‘Now I really am flattered,’ she said.
*****
Heather was just as insatiable receiving as she was giving. No matter how hard Pat thrust himself into her she thrust back harder and cried out for more. Fucking her really was a challenge, not least because she had done her best to drain him before finally unfastening those scarves.
And she’d physically fucked him too. He could now add full penetration to eggs, beads and vibrators.
Oh well, what was done was done. And at least she had been gentle about it, to begin with, anyway. She’d partly untied him so he could shuffle around the sturdy iron bedhead. Then she had refastened him in an ominous semi-crouch, positioned so he could see himself in the largest mirror of all, at the other end of her room. And then, equipped with a black leather harness and a dildo that was considerately oiled but far from small, she’d laughed.
‘Patrick McGuire . . . I have you at my mercy at last!’
He’d watched her reflection as she circled behind him, managed not to gasp as she pressed slowly, steadily in.’
‘Okay?’ she asked after
a few almost delicate, exploratory strokes.
‘Okay,’ he’d grunted, actually feeling . . . well, confused, a little afraid but mostly all right.
Still inside him, she’d climbed onto the bottom frame of the bedhead, which was about six inches off the floor. In the mirror her reflection suddenly loomed over his hunched body, all swaying tanned tits and flowing black hair.
‘Oh bondage,’ she’d cried, grabbing hold of his shoulders, thrusting harder and from a new angle, ‘up yours! Take that!!’
Watching her was nearly as good as being fucked by her. In porno films Pat always thought that men looked wooden and clumsy when they were on the job. Heather looked simply magnificent, dark poetry in motion as she fluidly and inventively hammered away.
She'd been right in one of her many predictions too; he had enjoyed it, particularly when she reached down for his cock, making him cum over her pillows with a few dozen artful pulls. Then she had laughed wickedly and gone into overdrive, their reflections jolting and jerking in tandem.
‘My turn to cum,’ she’d gasped maybe as long as ten minutes later, stabbing into him harder and faster than ever.
The unexpected flood of warmth totally freaked Pat. Afterwards Heather had explained she’d used her special squirting dildo. At the time he thought she’d somehow grown a length and squirted for real.
‘It’s the best feeling there is,’ she said as she unfastened the scarves. ‘I must admit, it feels best in my fanny, but that was as close as you’re ever going to get. I wanted you to experience it.’
Pat was still trembling and shaking. ‘You could have warned me,’ he mumbled.
‘What, and missed seeing the expression on your face!’
Finally (ultimately, at last!) putting his cock in her had excused everything. That sudden warm, almost scalding hot, sensation; and after all the years of teasing, even if he had been going at her for ages, only now was he faintly detecting the distant trace of yet another cum.
‘I want it in me.’
‘What?’
‘I know what’s coming. And I want it in me.’
‘How do you . . .’
‘Now, McGuire; give it to me now!’
Heather's eyes had a strange shine to them. Her body was juddering under him. This was obviously going to be major, even by her standards.
Suddenly Pat's excitement matched hers. From detecting that faintest trace he was almost instantly firing, making her yell and practically convulse.
Utterly depleted, he flopped.
Heather, in contrast, was invigorated. ‘Nice,’ she said, grinning. ‘I can't believe I waited so long for that. Fancy a drink?’
Pat was still gasping for breath. ‘I don't suppose you've got any Stella?’
‘Do I look like Shopper of the Year?’ Heather pushed him off and bounced up from the bed. ‘It's Pinot or the rest of that Shiraz.’
He watched her sexily slink out of the bedroom and decided it was time for a pee. As he plodded his weary way back from the en suite Heather returned with glasses the size of goldfish bowls, one brimming with red, the other white.
‘You’re in need of refreshment,’ she said cheerily.
Pat slumped on the bed while she put the glasses on a nearby set of drawers and joined him, sitting cross-legged. He couldn’t help noticing the circle spreading beneath her.
‘The sheet's already stained to heck and back,’ she said. ‘And don't frown, it's yours anyway. At least, some of it is.’
‘I'm amazed I've any left.’
‘You'd better be making some more. Sean's party goes on all weekend. So you're staying here . . . unless you've better things to do.’
More, he thought, trying not to panic. All weekend!
‘Isn’t there a new financial meltdown?’
‘There is. But I've done my bit for now. The world can melt on its own until Monday.’
‘Looks like I'm staying then.’
‘When's DeeDee back?’
Oh shit, DeeDee!
‘Sunday afternoon,’ he admitted.
‘You look uneasy, McGuire. What's up, isn't it your birthday after all?’
‘It is . . . if it's still Friday.’
‘Friday, Saturday . . . who cares? Never mind that, I'm starting to think I've misjudged you.’
‘Why?’
Heather ginned her usual, self-confident grin. ‘Everything seemed good. You stuck to your promises. You withstood severe provocation. Let me tie and torment you. You still have a simply enormous willy . . . a strong body . . . you cum like a perfect gentleman . . . and profusely at that. Then suddenly you're off on a guilt trip.’
‘No I'm not.’
‘Come on, McGuire. You led me to believe everything was hunky-dory. Please tell me you didn’t make it all up. Did DeeDee really give you a ticket of leave?’
‘Of course she did. She just meant for it to be with dancing girls, not the likes of you.’
Heather snorted and thrust out her tits. ‘What's wrong with the likes of me?’
‘You're young and incredibly beautiful. Dee'll be jealous.’
‘Listen McGuire, we're shagging the weekend away, not eloping. It's another one-off. There’s no need for any jealousy.’
‘I know that.’ He scowled. ‘Dee might see it differently.’
‘What if we'd shagged at Sean's party?’
‘She wouldn't have found out.’
‘What, with the way Andy and Marco gossip? She'd have found out before you got it all the way inside me . . . speaking of which . . . a trick.’
Heather held his gaze a few moments before very deliberately looking down at his groin. Pat watched her reach out, her index finger extended, pausing with it a fraction on an inch above his resting cock.
‘Up boy,’ she said, slowly lifting her hand.
To Pat's amazement he leapt to attention.
Nought to sixty in no seconds flat!
‘Works every time,’ she said, swinging a leg over.
Chapter Thirty-Four
(Friday 12th December 2008)
Jamie spotted Nat and Matty as soon as they walked into the common room. The dance floor had got far busier while they’d been gone, the music louder than ever. Excusing himself, he left Craig and Barry and moved to intercept.
‘You took your time.’
‘We haven’t been that long,’ Nat said defensively, ‘just half an hour.’
‘More like three-quarters.’
‘Sorry,’ Matty put in. ‘We had to drop Christine off on the way back. She was a bit upset.’
‘Roger’s mum excommunicated her,’ Nat added, ‘after ripping into all three of us. God help him in the morning. He’s going to get both barrels.’
‘You were right about the tea and biccies, then.’
‘To quote Captain Wentworth, I couldn’t have been righter.’
‘He said that in the book?’
‘Of course he did. Haven’t you been doing your homework?’
Matty had been shuffling his feet through all this. Muttering something about “flipping English Lit”, he made good his escape.
Jamie hardly noticed him go. ‘Listen Nat,’ he said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘Why?’ she said, looking surprised. ‘We haven’t had a boogie yet.’
‘I fancy a beer. We could go to the Horse.’
‘We’re supposed to be going there after the party.’
‘Well we could go early. Have an extra hour before everyone else arrives.’
She looked at him suspiciously. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Of course I am. I just fancy a drink.’
‘Okay,’ she said, ‘as long as you’re not expecting me to buy all the rounds.’
‘Don’t worry about that. I’ve got a few quid left in the bank.’
Jamie crossed his fingers behind his back as he said that. His earnings from the summer job were long gone; he was already well into an advance on his “Christmas money”. Now wasn’t the time to worry
about trifles, though.
Taking Nat by the arm he made for the exit. Then, just as he was starting to believe in miracles, Jayne appeared out of nowhere, not a hair out of place.
