by Monica Belle
By the time I got to college I was in tears, and rushed up to my room so that nobody would see me and ask what was wrong. I couldn’t bear to admit to the truth, save only to one person, Violet. She was out, leaving me to throw myself down on my bed, crying my eyes out into my pillow deep into the night until I finally fell asleep with the winter dawn already brightening my window.
Waking up was awful, with the memory of why I was lying face down on my bed with all my clothes on gradually penetrating my cloudy head. Only needing to pee got me to move, and I felt numb as I went through my morning routine and did my best to hide the vivid rings around my eyes. It was nearly noon and I should have been at the Chamber, but I didn’t care. Only the recollection that I was supposed to be lunching with an executive from one of the television companies pulled me out of my lethargy.
Violet still wasn’t in her room, and I realised she must have spent the night with James, which filled me with an unaccountable jealousy, adding to my woes as I made my way out of college. The lunch passed in a haze, my answers automatic as he talked me into the contract he wanted. I signed, indifferent to the fact that I didn’t have full authority, and was left feeling dull and depressed in a corner seat of the Bear.
We’d ordered wine, but he’d barely touched his, leaving the nearly full bottle on the table. I drank it, slowly, and as one glass followed another my feelings of misery and self-pity gradually gave way to a boiling anger. How Giles had managed to seduce Stephen I had no idea, but I knew why. It was to get back at me, for turning him down, for spoiling his smutty night of entertainment for the Hawkubites, for pushing him in the Isis. I wasn’t going to take it lying down.
With the bottle empty I got up, none too steady, and started towards Mary’s. I couldn’t face Stephen, but I could face Giles and intended to before common sense got the better of me. My only worry was that Stephen might be there, because if Giles was out I intended to camp on his doorstep until he came back. He was there, alone, sat in the same armchair, eating quail’s eggs and sipping champagne, his eyebrows lifting in surprise as I slammed the door back.
‘Ah, Poppaea, do come in, but I see you already have. Is something the matter?’
‘You know what the matter is, you bastard!’
‘I’m afraid you have the advantage of me.’
‘What you did with Stephen, that’s what’s the matter. I saw you, last night!’
‘I was with Stephen last night, yes, at the Chamber bar, and then in the Turf. He was looking for you, but I managed to persuade him away with the promise of a pint of Old Peculiar.’
‘I know what you persuaded him away for, you bastard. I saw you together, in here, with … with him on his knees to you! You fucking bastard, you …’
He held up his hands and I broke off, so angry I was close to tears again. After a moment of surprise his mouth had spread to a smug amused grin, making me want to smack him with every ounce of my strength. He didn’t try to deny it, but gave a soft chuckle as he answered me. ‘Well then, my dear, that will teach you to peep in at people’s windows, won’t it?’
‘I came to get your signature on some documents, and it doesn’t matter if I looked or not. What matters is what you did, and why. You just wanted to hurt me, didn’t you, you utter …’
Again he raised his hand. ‘My dear, Poppy, please. Believe me, young Stephen was sucking my cock on a regular basis long before you appeared on the scene, he was my fag at Laon, you know, and he will probably be sucking my cock long after he is but a distant memory in your pretty head. Unless, of course, you were planning to marry him?’
What he’d said had shocked me so much it had taken the wind out of my sails, and I gave him a straight answer to his question. ‘I had considered it, yes.’
He gave an airy flutter of his fingers, one of his most annoying habits, and stood up. ‘Let me explain something to you, Poppy, but first, how about a glass of Cognac, or Scotch if you prefer? You look as if you need it, and do close the door and sit down, you are making rather an exhibition of yourself.’
I was going to refuse, but he was already pouring some deep-amber liquid from a decanter into a glass and I did need it. He passed it to me and I sat down, leaving him to close the door himself before returning to his seat.
‘The thing is, my dear, that, while I know it must come as a shock to realise that lover boy enjoys giving a little fellatio, there’s really no need to get those pretty cotton knickers you wear in a twist.’
‘How do you know I wear … never mind that. I have every reason to be upset!’
‘Nevertheless, an ambitious girl like yourself must learn to make certain compromises. Stephen is an excellent catch, quite bright and with enough know-how and capital to ensure that in a few short years he will become very rich indeed. He would be the perfect husband for an up-and-coming politician, in fact, but nothing is ever perfect in this world and you must allow him his little foibles.’
‘Little foibles? How am I supposed to cope with a husband who has sex with other men, and what if he gets arrested for cottaging or something?’
‘Really, my dear, you can be so dreadfully bourgeois. Stephen would never dream of doing anything so sordid, but, when he’s had a drink or two with me, and one or two other old friends, well, he might care to relive a few happy memories of his youth.’
‘Other old friends? You mean you weren’t his only lover.’
‘How little you know about men! I’m not sure how many other boys Stephen may have amused himself with while he was in the sixth form, but there were over fifty in each year, and most of us were at it.’
‘What?’
‘There’s no need to sound so shocked. After all, what would you have done if you were cooped up in some God-forsaken barrack for weeks on end with a lot of other girls? I bet you’d have been in and out of each other’s knickers on a daily basis, if not hourly …’
‘I don’t think so!’
He raised a single eyebrow. I thought of Violet and shut up. He gave another smug little chuckle, as if he’d read my mind, and carried on. ‘And you must concede that Stephen is frightfully good looking. Who could resist him?’
‘You couldn’t, obviously.’
‘I freely confess that resisting the charms of my fellow creatures is not my strong point, your own, for example … but I digress. The thing is that there’s nothing to worry about. I’m not going to take Stephen away from you, that I promise. You haven’t told him you peeped, have you?’
‘No.’
‘Then take my advice and don’t. Sometimes it’s best to turn a blind eye to these things, and think of all the filthy lucre you’ll be able to enjoy, and all the backing you’ll enjoy as you climb the greasy pole of the political hierarchy. Unless, of course, you’d care to join in? To have the two of you working on me, side by side and both as naked as the day you were born, now that would be perfection.’
He finished with a long sigh, no doubt imagining the scene. I made to answer, but stopped, knowing that nothing I could say would prick his monstrous conceit.
10
I LEFT GILES’ room so angry that I was prepared to throw everything away and start again, but as I walked I slowly began to realise that there was a horrible logic to what he’d said. From the first I had known that my chosen career path would mean making sacrifices, and perhaps accepting Stephen as gay was something I ought to do? Looked at rationally it made sense, but in my heart I felt betrayed and used. Also, it would be such a cold thing to do. I could imagine myself, at thirty or maybe forty, sat at my desk working at some constituency matter and knowing that Stephen was out at dinner with Giles, and what would happen between them afterwards. If I accepted that, a little part of me would die.
The thought of visiting Stephen was more than I could bear. My head was full of images of him on his knees sucking cock for Giles Lancaster, and I didn’t know if I could let him touch me. I needed to think and I needed to cry, that or drink myself into oblivion. On my way back to my r
oom I picked up a bottle of wine from the JCR shop, and opened it the moment I was through my door.
At the pop of the cork Violet’s head appeared. ‘Hello, Poppy … are you all right?’
I burst into tears. She came quickly across the room, to take me in her arms, not asking what was wrong but giving her support anyway. I melted into her, desperate for comfort. She didn’t say a word, but began to stroke my hair and pat my back, at which I gave myself over to my emotions completely, clinging tight as I sobbed my feelings out on her shoulder, and twice kissing her before I realised what an utterly inappropriate thing it was to do. I pulled back, grinning sheepishly, wondering why I’d done it and what she thought of me, but there was only sympathy in her eyes and she kissed me in return before letting go.
‘Do you want to talk?’
Still choked with tears, my response was a nod. She went to close the door, not mine, but our oak, then sat down on my bed, patting the coverlet beside her. I’d found some tissues and was dabbing at my eyes as I sat down beside her. She filled the glass I’d put out and gave it to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as I took a welcome swallow.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Stephen.’
‘Have you broken up?’
I shook my head, wondering how I could possibly tell her, but a moment later it had all begun to spill out. ‘He … he’s having sex with Giles Lancaster, for ages … before we met, sucking him off, maybe more. I caught them at it, in Giles’ room!’
She didn’t answer, but the pressure of her arm increased slightly as I went on.
‘I thought he was my man, the man, maybe, and he’s gay! It’s all been a horrible lie, right from the start! I don’t know what to do, Violet. Giles more or less told me I should get over it, but how can I?’
‘Have you spoken to him?’
‘No. I couldn’t face it, but I went to have a go at Giles, because I thought he’d seduced Stephen to get at me, and … and they’ve been at it for years, all the time we’ve been together! Giles said I could still make Stephen a good wife, while they get pissed together and suck each other off! Bastards!’
‘But Stephen likes you, doesn’t he, in bed?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Then maybe he’s not gay at all, maybe …’
‘He was sucking Giles’ cock!’
‘Hush, sweetie, let me explain. They were at public school together, weren’t they? A lot of men experiment with homosexuality when they’re in their teens, especially if there are no girls around, so maybe it’s just something he needs to get over? Anyway, he can’t be completely gay, can he, not if he likes you? Nobody’s going to say you’re like a boy!’
She gave me a squeeze and I’d begun to smile despite myself, only for another grievance to push up to the surface of my mind.
‘He still went behind my back, and he might have said something!’
‘Oh, come on, Poppy, what’s he going to say to his gorgeous new girlfriend? “Oh, by the way, I like to give my old friends bjs from time to time.”’
‘No, I suppose not, but … but he just shouldn’t have done it!’
She didn’t have an answer for that, but gave me another squeeze and refilled my glass. I swallowed most of the contents in one and took a deep breath. She was trying to be nice and I could see the sense in her explanation, but it wasn’t really working. I felt awful, still full of tears, wishing it would all go away, and wishing I could get back at him, and at Giles, more so at Giles.
Violet listened as I began to talk, more or less at random, her arm still around me except when she filled my glass or gave me a new tissue. I knew I was drunk, and vulnerable, my body loose and my emotions a mess but with an urgent need for comfort overriding everything else. When she kissed me it felt so tender I began to cry again, and the words came unbidden to my throat. ‘I need a cuddle.’
Her lips met my cheek again, kissing away a tear, and another, before she spoke. ‘I’m going to put you to bed.’
All I could manage in response was a weak nod. My body felt limp and unresponsive, and all I could think of as she began to undress me was that my friend was taking care of me. I didn’t mind that she continued to kiss me, or the way her fingers touched the nape of my neck and traced the contours of my breasts as she unfastened my blouse. Even when her mouth found mine I couldn’t make myself resist, her kiss too sweet and too full of comfort to be denied. I knew she was going to have me, and a tiny part of myself was telling me she was taking advantage, but that was nothing beside the need to be held, and touched, and loved.
With my mouth open under hers there was no denying my surrender. Her touches grew bolder, less tentative. My blouse was open and she had quickly undone my bra, lifting it over my breasts as our tongues entwined, my kisses no less passionate than hers. Her hands found my breasts, as eager to feel their size and weight as any man, then her mouth, taking my nipples between her lips and teeth, suckling me and nibbling gently. At that a moan escaped my throat and we had tumbled together onto the bed, kissing once more as her fingers fumbled for the button of my skirt.
I lifted my bottom, making it easier for her to get my skirt down. She stripped me quickly, pulling down my skirt and knickers and tights as one, down my legs and off. I wriggled out of my blouse and tugged off my bra as she did it, leaving myself stark naked on the bed with her beside me. Seeing I was not merely willing, but eager, she took my hands, guiding them to her bottom as we once more cuddled close. It felt strange, her flesh soft and rounded instead of hard muscle.
She gave an encouraging wiggle and I had given in completely, no longer passive as I began to explore the shape of her cheeks through her dress, wondering if I dared smack her the way I was sure she’d like, because she seemed very much in charge. I thought she’d do it to me, and I’d have let her, but she only seemed to want to kiss and stroke and rub her face against my flesh as she drank in my scent and the texture of my skin.
When she spoke again there was no pretence at all in her words. ‘Get in bed. I’m coming in too.’
I pulled the bed covers back and crawled in as she got up, to kick away her shoes and peel her dress off over her head leaving her in stockings, a vest and knickers. She laughed and I realised that I’d been staring, making me blush for the first time, and her beautiful eyes were still full of laughter as she began to tease, lifting her vest slowly to expose her breasts before turning her back and easing her knickers down over her bottom.
Naked, she looked more slender and elegant than ever, her tiny breasts high and pointed, her hips a poem in grace, her sex neat and pink between the V of her thighs, shaved bare. I found myself pushing out my tongue to moisten my lips and again she laughed, then spoke as she put a knee on the bed. ‘I’ve wanted you so long.’
My answer was to open my arms to her and we came together, now naked, touching each other without inhibition. I let her slip a finger inside me, and by the time she’d begun to kiss her way slowly down my body I was so far gone that I simply let my thighs come wide in open invitation. She took her time, nuzzling my breasts and flicking her tongue over my erect nipples before gradually working her way lower, to kiss the swell of my belly and my navel, lingering on the mound of my sex and the insides of my thighs before finally burying her face between them.
Just the thought that she was licking me was almost too much, and she was amazingly good, using her tongue with a skill and imagination that quickly had me arching my back and clutching at my breasts and her hair, my mouth already wide in ecstasy. Her hands slipped beneath me and I’d started to come, calling out her name and begging her not to stop as wave after wave of pleasure ran through me, until I’d forgotten all about Stephen, and Giles, and everything but what was being done to me, and who by.
Violet had seduced me, just as Giles had seduced Stephen, but I couldn’t find it in myself to be angry, or even resentful. I did try to justify my behaviour, telling myself I’d only done it because I was drunk and vulnerable, but, whi
le it was true that I’d never have given into my feelings otherwise, there was no denying that I had wanted it and, equally, that I’d enjoyed myself.
That was an understatement; Violet had not only shown a skill far beyond that of any man I’d known, but she had also been more attentive, so much so that among my muddled feelings and impressions there was a touch of guilt for having returned so much less than she’d given. Three times she’d brought me to climax before we’d finally fallen asleep in each other’s arms, and a fourth at some point in the dead of the night.
I didn’t feel resentful, and I didn’t even feel guilty, or at least far less than I would have expected. What I did feel was concern, because passionate lesbian sex very definitely did not fit in with my efforts to keep a clean image, but I found it hard to care. Instead I felt so happy I wanted to sing, and a great deal stronger about the situation with Stephen. As Violet and I sat drinking coffee the next morning, having adjusted ourselves just enough not to arouse the suspicions of the scout if she came in early, I was telling myself that I’d have to face him sooner or later, and that the only reason for delay was that I had absolutely no idea what to say.
Violet seemed to read my thoughts. ‘Are you going to see Stephen?’
‘Yes, but I’m not sure what to say, if anything. Giles advised against it.’
‘By the sound of things Giles was arguing for his own best interests.’
‘I’m sure he was. That’s Giles.’
‘Then I suggest you think very carefully about what you want to do before you say anything. If you really can’t cope …’
‘I’m not so sure, after last night.’
