Quick, I need to say something.
‘Glad you liked it,’ I added.
‘I most certainly did!’ he gushed. ‘That was tremendous! Did you enjoy it?’ he asked keenly.
Shit. How am I meant to answer that?
‘It’s so good to be with a man again,’ I replied a bit too quickly. That didn’t come out right. What do you mean, Sophia? As opposed to being with a woman? Let me clarify: ‘I mean, sex is a natural, basic human need and it’s been such a long time, so it’s good to be back, to be on the path to feeling like a woman again.’ I saw him frown briefly, but I think I got away with it. Just.
‘Gosh, all that action has made me really thirsty,’ I said, thinking on my feet. ‘Maybe I’ll go downstairs and grab a drink?’
‘I won’t hear of it,’ he said, jumping off the bed, clearly not shy about his bits flopping about as he did. ‘You stay there.’ He stepped into his white boxer shorts. ‘I’ll get it for you. Water okay, or something stronger?’ he asked.
I was tempted to go for wine, so that I’d feel a bit more relaxed if he wanted to do it again, but I had work in the morning and needed a clear head. Oh yes. Work!
‘Water will be fine. I’ve got work in the morning so can’t be hungover,’ I said. ‘In fact, what’s the time? I’ll probably need to get a cab home soon.’
‘Oh no, really?’ he said, face falling. ‘It’s only 10.30 p.m. Why don’t you stay the night?’
‘I wish I could,’ I said, sitting upright in the bed and starting to wrap the sheet around me so I could get up without exposing myself. ‘But I’ve got a meeting first thing, and I don’t have any clothes here…’
‘That’s not a problem,’ he jumped in. ‘I can arrange for whatever you want to be delivered here overnight, all ready for the morning. Just tell me your size and what you want to wear and I’ll get everything sorted.’
Oh, to be so rich and powerful. What would he do? Send some minions to open up Selfridges in the middle of the night just for me?
‘It’s not just that,’ I added, ‘it’s my make-up, my shoes and—’
‘I can arrange that all too,’ he interjected. ‘I’ll get a make-up artist—whatever you need.’
If I needed to, I could organise a glam squad myself, but I appreciated the gesture.
‘Charlie, you are so kind, but I’ve got my work notes at home, which I need to go through, and I need a good night’s sleep. I had my best friends over last night and we were up until all hours, and now I’ve just had this unexpected workout and I’m tired. And I know if I stay here, I’ll be up all night with you too…’
‘Yes, you’ve got a point,’ he said, grinning wildly. ‘I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off you!’
And with that, he came over to where I was standing and launched at me again, kissing me on the lips, on my neck, across my shoulders, and then slipping his hands through a gap in the sheet that was wrapped around me and starting to skim my breasts.
‘Oooh, stop it, Charlie! Right,’ I said, stepping back quickly. ‘I’d better go. I think I left my phone downstairs. I’m going to order a taxi.’
I picked my now-crumpled dress up off the floor, pulled it over my head, then swiftly put my knickers back on. Couldn’t be bothered to fiddle about with my bra. I rolled it up into a ball ready to stuff into my handbag.
‘Okay, okay, sorry,’ he said, also taking a step back. ‘When you haven’t had sex for months, you forget how wonderful it can feel, so that enabled me to be strong and stop myself from being more forward with you. But now you’ve awoken my sleeping sausage, I can’t help it. I want you. Can we do it again? Please?’ he pleaded like an eager eighteen-year old who’d just lost his virginity. ‘Just quickly, before you leave?’
Did he just call his dick a sleeping sausage?
‘Patience is a virtue,’ I said, stroking his face, secretly wishing he had a beard. ‘If I go now, with the anticipation, it’ll be even better next time,’ I said, trying to convince myself.
‘Okay. When will the next time be?’ he asked eagerly.
‘Well, I’ve got a busy week at work, but don’t worry, soon,’ I said, not answering his question fully.
I made my way downstairs. This was so hard. I didn’t want to lie. And I felt awful. Like one of those men that gets his wicked way and then skulks off home faster than you can say Speedy Gonzales.
Great—there’s an Uber five minutes away.
He reached the bottom of the stairs, headed towards me and leant over for another kiss. I reciprocated. I did enjoy the action of his kisses. But I just didn’t feel any butterflies, or that spark.
‘Right, I better head downstairs as the cab is only a few minutes away and it will probably take about half an hour to get the lift down from this penthouse to the ground floor!’ I joked.
‘Of course,’ he said, still sulking a bit about the fact that I wouldn’t stay. ‘Would you like me to accompany you downstairs?’
So formal! He really is a gent.
‘It’s fine, Charlie, but I appreciate the offer,’ I replied.
‘Do you need some money for the taxi?’ he asked, being a gentleman again.
‘It’s all paid for on my account. Thank you so much for offering, though.’
‘Well, thank you again, Sophia. I feel so, so amazing,’ he said, stretching his arms up towards the ceiling like he’d just finished a productive workout at the gym. ‘I feel incredibly relaxed and less stressed. Do please say we’ll do this again soon?’
‘Sure,’ I said quickly without making a firm commitment as I stepped into the lift. He flashed a bright smile at me and the door closed.
So there we have it. I had just got what I’d been hoping for. I thought I’d feel fantastic. But instead, once again, I felt empty.
In contrast, I could tell Charlie already had his head in the clouds. He was smitten. And as I’d instigated it, I couldn’t very well start backtracking could I?
What on earth was I going to do now?
Chapter Thirty-Four
I sat out on the terrace in the fluffy white robe Charlie had bought for me (which in true, posh style had my initials embroidered on). For the beginning of December, it was surprisingly mild. Charlie had been travelling a lot over the past few months to the US, Europe and the Far East on business (he’d invited me to join him, but I’d explained that I needed to be at work), so we hadn’t been seeing much of each other over the autumn. But this was now the third weekend in a row I’d been here, and I was a little disappointed with myself. I was worried that because of Charlie’s kind, sweet, nature, I was getting swept away with it all and was losing focus.
After we’d first spent the night together, Charlie had sent me two boxes of my favourite Lola’s cupcakes and a giant bouquet of flowers with a note saying how much he’d enjoyed our evening and couldn’t wait to see me again.
Even back then, whilst part of me said: ‘Awww, how sweet. What a lovely message,’ the other part was niggling away, screaming, ‘Shit! I’m not even sure if I want to continue with this.’ I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut that it didn’t feel right. But then Reasanna had piped up:
FFS, Sophia, the man has just sent you your favourite cakes and had them chauffeur-driven to you at work, and you’re still not sure? What do you want, woman? Diamonds?
And furthermore, this passion thing you keep harping on about isn’t real life. Look where that got you with Lorenzo. A first-class ticket to Nowhereland. That’s where.
Have you forgotten that you’re fast approaching forty? You don’t have the same options as you did when you were twenty-five. You must see by now how hard being single can be. I’m not saying to go out with any man who sends you flowers—anyone can do that—but don’t rule someone out before you’ve given them a proper chance. You’d be crazy to end this without seeing where it could go. It was the first time you two had proper sex in ages, so it’s natural that you both may be a bit rusty. Try again, and I’m sure it’ll get bett
er. And maybe the passion will grow. Look at people who have arranged marriages. They find a way to make it work.
So I listened to Reasanna and decided to persevere. After all, according to point number seven in my MAP plan, I was supposed to be embracing all opportunities. And before I’d met Charlie, if the universe had said to me: ‘I can send you a guy that is probably going to fall madly in love with you, will be handsome, kind, successful, eager to please you, not a weirdo, financially secure (understatement of the century) and will want to have sex with you,’ I would have said ‘sign me up!’ But now that I had that, strangely, it wasn’t so appealing. Rich had a lot of those qualities too, and sometimes it just wasn’t enough…
That’s the thing. Getting into another routine relationship had never been my intention. That had been the problem with my life before with Rich, and I felt like I was falling into the same patterns again.
As lovely as Charlie was, now that he’d stopped travelling so much for work and we were seeing more of each other, it had become a little predictable.
Typically, on the Saturday, he’d send a car to collect me from home around 5.30 p.m., which would then take me to a fancy restaurant in Mayfair or Knightsbridge. We’d have an early dinner until about 9.30 p.m., then go back to his penthouse, where, after some polite conversation, he would give me a look, take my hand, lead me up the stairs to his bedroom and we’d have sex.
It was marginally better, and sometimes, if I could get my mind in the right place and concentrated hard enough, I enjoyed it a little bit, but not as much as him.
I knew exactly how my weekends with Charlie would be and what he’d do in bed. It was like he’d followed some kind of ‘how to have sex with a woman’ manual:
Step 1: kiss subject on lips for one minute
Step 2: then move to her neck and give sloppy wet kisses for precisely thirty seconds
Step 3: peck from her neck downwards until you reach her breasts
Step 4: kiss said breasts in a clockwise fashion for fifteen seconds, before sucking on nipples gently for ten counts
Step 5: repeat action twice before taking hand and slowly moving downwards until you reach her vagina
Step 6: rub vagina gently and check for moistness
Step 7: if sufficient moisture is evident, you may now proceed with entry. If not, repeat steps 1-6 until desired effect is achieved, this time adding a generous sprinkle of platitudes such as ‘you’re beautiful’, ‘I’m so turned on right now’ and ‘I want you so much’…
Aaaaarrggghhhh!
Where was the passion? Where was the spontaneity? Why was it always the missionary position? Why did it always have to be in the bedroom? This was a 4,000-square-foot apartment, FFS. Why couldn’t we do it on the terrace in the moonlight, on the marble kitchen worktop or even on the bloody sofa? Whenever I suggested this, he said he felt more comfortable in the bedroom, and every time I tried to go on top, he’d roll me back.
On a Sunday morning, he’d pop out get pastries from the little French bakery and then some dishes from M&S, or he’d go to a restaurant and ask them to make me a special meal with fresh prawns or lobster and bring it back home for us to reheat.
Despite his kindness, the more I thought about it, the more I realised that I needed to seriously consider taking time out or ending things completely. But was that the right thing to do? Was I expecting too much? Maybe, like Reasanna said, with time things would improve. Or perhaps if I explained my concerns, he’d be okay with something a little less serious and full-on. Hmmm. My thoughts were all muddled. This was one for the frienmittee. I needed my committee of close friends, i.e., Roxy’s and Bella’s wisdom.
I launched WhatsApp. Great—they’re both online.
Me
Hey, ladies, how’s it going?
Roxy
Hey, Sophia. All cool. Just chilling in bed with coffee number two.
Bella
A major miracle has happened. I have some time to myself. Mike has taken Paul for a walk!
Roxy
Ha-ha! Amazing, Bella. It’s 11 a.m. on Sunday, so let me guess, Soph, you’re on the massive terrace, waiting for King Cromwell to return with brunch?
Me
Correct…
Roxy
Cut to the chase, how’s the sex? Any better?
Me
Nope. I’m still not feeling much. There’s no passion. It’s all a bit colour-by-numbers. I know it’s bad, but sometimes I’m tempted to bring my Rabbit with me to use so I could remind myself what it’s like to really come…
Roxy
Oh shit, that bad?
Me
It’s not bad per se. He’s a decent size, he does the right things in general. But whilst he’s panting about how great it feels and how much he’s enjoying himself, I’m thinking about what I need to order from Ocado. That can’t be right.
Roxy
Hell no! If he’s pushing the right buttons, you shouldn’t even be able to think clearly. You should be overcome—pardon the pun—with desire and everything should feel fuzzy and just WOW!
Me
Exactly. But for some reason it’s just not happening…
Roxy
Clearly you just don’t have a sexual connection. What about kissing? Anything there?
Me
He only does it in the bedroom for a few seconds as part of his rote foreplay and I still don’t feel anything…
Roxy
Well, kissing is important. I remember reading an article in Stylist magazine that said kissing allows us to see how compatible we are with a guy and that when we get close to them, their lips give off pheromones or a special smell. Basically, you can find someone attractive like you do with Charlie, but then when you go to kiss them, you don’t feel a thing because their pheromones just don’t float your boat.
Me
That would make sense…
Roxy
It’s something to do with genes—apparently we’re most attracted to men with genes or a smell that’s different to ours. It also said women see kissing as a way to weed out boyfriends, so most would dump them if the first kiss felt wrong.
Me
Well, yeah, the first kiss wasn’t mind-blowing, but I thought it would get better…
Roxy
Hmm. Well, it’s difficult for a relationship to survive without frequent, proper down-and-dirty snogging.
Bella
Ladies, I feel like I need to chip in here. You’re not being realistic. As someone who has been in a relationship for nine years, I can tell you that it’s not all about swinging from the chandeliers 24/7. That’s just not real life.
Me
I know, Bella. I was in a relationship for fifteen years. But surely if it’s not good at the beginning, it can only go downhill…
Bella
True.
Me
I’ve been thinking that I’m going to have to consider ending it. Or at least taking time out. He’s a lovely guy, but I don’t feel ready for something serious and I reckon he is. I don’t want to hurt him, but I need to let him know how I feel.
Bella
You’re right, Soph. The thing is, most men will assume that women of our age are looking for marriage and kids. So if that’s not the case, you need to make it clear.
Roxy
Agreed. I know it will mean being single again, but it’s better to be single than to be in an unhappy marriage, and that’s where this is heading. A big, fat public Hello! magazine, bells-and-whistles wedding. And fast. Stay with him any longer, he’ll be getting down on one knee. And not to give you oral, that’s for sure!
Me
Roxy! You’re right, though. He’s been talking about meeting his parents in a couple of weeks, so I have to tell him how I’m feeling before then, as I wouldn’t want him to announce me as his girlfriend and then suddenly I disappear. No. I can’t do that to him. I need to do it soon. Definitely this week. At the very latest. Thanks, ladies.
Bella
Roxy
He-he. Do people still even use cheques, Bella?!
I heard the lift doors open.
Me
Guys, I think Charlie’s back. I better go. Bella, enjoy your time to yourself, and Roxy, let’s catch up tomorrow. I want to hear all about that big meeting.
Bella
Will do. xxx
Roxy
Sure thing, lady. xxx
‘Sophia, I’m back,’ said Charlie, shouting from the kitchen. ‘I’ve got us a lovely lobster risotto for lunch, and fresh pastries from the yummy French bakery. Bucks Fizz coming up in a jiffy. But first,’ he said, striding over towards me excitedly, ‘all that walking in the crisp winter air has made me feel rather energised. I think we should retire to the bedroom and work up an appetite before we indulge in brunch.’
I’d admit, I was horny, but, given the decision I had just made about cooling things, we should probably have a talk…
‘Um, Charlie,’ I said as he started trying to kiss my lips, ‘I was thinking we could have a chat first…?’
‘Mmmm…’ he said as he started moving down to kiss my neck. ‘Plenty of time to talk later. Let’s go upstairs…’
His kisses weren’t as wet as normal, and as his hands started to wander south, I could feel myself getting mildly turned on…shit. I suppose we could talk afterwards? After all, I hadn’t thought about how to broach the subject and I needed to do it delicately. Maybe I should carry on as normal today, go home tonight, plan what I was going to say and then call him tomorrow to arrange a time to meet up on Tuesday to tell him how I felt? Or I could do it tomorrow? Fuck. I just didn’t know what to do…
Before I knew it, we were upstairs kissing on the bed and he was running through his foreplay routine. He climbed on top, stared at me longingly, then hurriedly reached into his side drawer, pulled out a condom, peeled off my dressing gown and went straight for it.
The Middle-Aged Virgin: A Chick Lit, Romantic Comedy Novel: Newly Single And Seeking Spine-Tingles... Page 28
