“I can imagine. Have you told him this?”
“Nah. It’s just jealousy, innit? He can’t help being a charismatic fucker. That’s what hooked me in the first place.”
“Hmmm. He won’t stray though.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he just won’t. It isn’t his style. Trust me. It’s time for us to go, anyway. Come on.” He took her hand, the fingers were very warm.
The crowd had substantially thinned, now 3am was approaching. Ritchie was still propping up the bar, nicely merry but not wasted, with a handful of leftover comedians - Toms, Matts, Susan and Jenny.
He got up and ran towards them when he spotted the pair returning, flinging an arm around each of
“TRUTH OR DARE. ALL COMEDIANS VERSION. THE COMEDY OLYMPICS!” He shouted, and everyone cheered.
“What?”
“No one’s tired - going back to the Tom’s flat for some cocktails and Truth or Dare Olympiad.”
“But it’s late!”
“No it isn’t. This is Edinburgh. Late does not exist. Unless it’s a cue. Then you’re fucked. Come on, we need to find somewhere that’s open and sells Cointreau.”
The Tom’s apartment was suspiciously plush for Edinburgh digs.
“Who did you blow to get this place?” Daniel asked suspiciously, walking into yet another bedroom.
“Same person he blew to get her,” Tom D retorted, nodding in Ritchie’s direction.
“It’s his great Auntie’s” volunteered Tom A, switching on lights and retrieving glasses from the kitchen cupboards. “She used to run it as a knocking shop. A successful one. Girls in every room. There’s a tariff behind the headboard in mine.”
“No there isn’t.” Tom D spat back, disgruntled. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll get some more chairs from the dining room.”
In the end, there were around sixteen of them by the time the room was settled - a handful of extra bodies had been picked up along the way from various late night shows.
Siobhan found herself sandwiched between a Tom and one of the few females who had joined them - Susan, a character act. They were sharing a pint glass of milk topped up with Baileys and Kahlua, sat in between the two large sofas where most of the boys had managed to pile themselves comfortably.
Tom A stood up and addressed the crowd.
“Okay. So, rules is - you must pick truth or dare. All responses will be peer-reviewed. If you are deemed to have given an unsatisfactory answer - double dare. These are the rules. You have been warned.”
Half the assembled crowd groaned.
“Does it have to be truth or dare?” called out more than one voice.
“Yeah, what about something a bit easier? Like I have never!” Shouted Daniel from the top of the pile. The room rumbled in agreement.
Tom A shook his head.
“Fine. Standard rules, I have never. Who’s the youngest?”
Matt Y raised his hand - he was up with his university sketch group. Had somehow become separated from them, and ended up in the bare when they were rounding up victims.
“You go first. Has everyone got a drink? Good. Go!”
“Um... I have never... Um... Straightened my hair.”
Everyone else took a swig of their drink. Daniel was next.
“I have never received oral sex in an alleyway.”
There were some pauses.
“Hang on, what about that bird in Torquay?” called Ritchie.
“Other way round, mate.”
“In that case,” began Steven, a ventriloquist from Sunderland, “I have never given oral sex in an alleyway.”
Daniel dutifully sipped his drink, along with Susan, two of the four Toms present, and Siobhan.
An hour later, Matt Y and Tom S had disappeared; Susan, Steven and those left on one of the sofas were comatose, and the others were still going strong.
“I have never slept with anyone older than my parents.”
Ritchie and Daniel both took a swig from the bottle of Cointreau, the only alcohol left in the house.
“Really?” Siobhan asked sleepily.
They looked at one another and nodded, replying in unison “Same woman.”
“At the same time.” Added Daniel, clearly believing Ritchie would do the same, but he didn’t.
Siobhan stared, but didn’t say anything.
“Have I said something I shouldn’t have?”
“I didn’t know.” She said simply.
“It hadn’t come up yet.” Ritchie said, as if it was no big deal, unsure whether she was upset with him or not. Siobhan stretched out on the floor.
“Tell me about it?”
“It was our second or third Edinburgh. She was a reviewer. Still is, she writes for the local rag, occasional broadsheet stuff. We met her at the Giggling Gander party - she’d given us a pretty good review and we wanted to thank her. One thing lead to another, and she lead us up to her room at Missoni and, well. It happened.”
“Double team or spit roast?”
“More ‘I’ll shag her and she’ll pull you off and then we swap.”
“How romantic.”
“Horny, not Romantic. She was so into it, which helped. Turned out we weren’t the first double act she’d had in her suite, and unlikely to be the last. She probably still does it now, and she must be pushing seventy.”
“She’s only sixty two, don’t talk bollocks.” Ritchie piped up, still watching Siobhan’s face for her reaction. She lay on her stomach in front of them, with her head in her hands.
“So how was it?”
“Weird at first.” Daniel answered, honestly. “Because no matter how turned on you are by the naked woman on the bed in front of you; you’re always aware that your best mate is standing next to you, also naked. With an erection.”
“And she had a really specific way of doing things. Daniel put his hand on one of her tits and she nearly bit his hand off. It was good, but sort of weird.”
“And would you do it again?”
It was just the three of them; they hadn’t noticed the remaining members of the party slinking away, or crawling behind the furniture to sleep.
“With the right person. At the right time. I could.”
“Ok. So what about now?”
“What about what, now?”
“Let’s do it. Now.”
“We can’t.” Said Daniel, standing.
“Why not?”
“We’re all drunk.”
“I’m not drunk.” She pointed out, which was true. “Not as drunk as you two.”
“No, Daniel’s right. Deffo bedtime. Come on.”
And with that, they both curled up on either side of her, their arms crossing over her body, and all three fell asleep.
An hour or two later - around 5am, when daylight would touch the streets, but couldn’t permeate the heavy velvet curtains in the sitting room - Siobhan awoke surrounded by warmth. In her sleepy, boozy state, she wriggled herself more tightly into the grasp of the body behind her - who certainly felt very pleased with her grinding. The body in front groaned in his sleep and wrapped his leg around hers. His chest was half bare against her cheek. Everything felt right, dreamlike.
A voice whispered in her ear.
“Go on then.”
“What?”
He reached around her and began to unbutton her shirt.
“What do you think? Here. Now.”
“But what about-” She felt the body in front moving. His hands were at her waist, unzipping her skirt.
“We both want to, don’t you?”
“I thought you were drunk.”
“We changed our minds.”
She felt lips on her neck, smooth ag
ainst her skin. That must be Daniel. Ritchie’s hands were under the skirt, rubbing against where she was wettest. Now she was awake, she saw them working together, Daniel removing her bra as if by magic as Ritchie kissed the flesh as it was exposed.
“Have you been planning this all along?”
“Only an hour or so. You were out cold. So we talked.”
“You talked?” Now she could feel Daniel between her thighs, and felt her knees go weak, even though she was lying down.
“Men do talk, darling, stupid girl.” Ritchie said between kisses. “Is this still what you want, is it? Is it?” She felt Daniel swipe his finger along the length of her spine, and couldn’t answer. She gasped as Ritchie’s head slunk lower down her body for a repeat performance of Tuesday night and as Daniel held her closely and eased himself inside of her, she woke up.
The next afternoon, when everyone had woken up and dispersed, and they were back in their own flat, groggily watching daytime TV and drinking mugs of coffee, and had put off the proposed hike up Arthur’s Seat for the fifth consecutive time, Siobhan took leave of the silent boys to have a bath and a long think about the night before.
“Do I want to fuck my boyfriend’s comedy partner? Who is essentially the third wheel in this relationship anyway. Is this a good idea?” She soaped from her thigh to her ankle and wrote ‘good/bad?’ down the length with her finger.
“It would be an interesting experience. One to tell the grand kids. Maybe not.” She dunked her head under the water and thought about it some more.
“Am I the sort of girl who gets a gang bang done on her? Is this technically a gang bang?”
She thought about Daniel’s fuchsia mouth outside the toilets. About him watching her come as Ritchie worked his tongue over her clit with two fingers jammed inside her and no idea that they had an audience. She thought about how strong he was, in spite of being so skinny. She dunked her head again.
“Is everything alright in there, Bonnie?”
“Yes!” She called out, reaching for the shampoo.
“Only, you were talking to yourself.”
“Yeah...”
“Can I come in?”
“If you must.”
She flicked the lock and slinked down under the suds.
Ritchie peered in through a crack in the door.
“Are you decent?”
“I’m in the bath.”
He came and sat on the edge nearest the taps.
“Recovering?”
“Nicely, thanks.”
“What were you saying, before?”
“Just rambling to myself.”
“You were talking about getting gangbanged.”
“Just how close were you to the door before you came in?”
“I... wanted to make sure you weren’t drowning?”
She gave him a long look. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough to be confused. Have- have you been writing on your leg?” He squinted into the water. “Did we really agree to a threeway last night?”
“I wouldn’t say agree, as such.” Siobhan squirted shampoo into her hair and began to lather, thoughtfully.
“I mean, we have done it before, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“It doesn’t matter, really. You raised your eyebrows that I’ve received oral sex in an alleyway.”
“Well, yes.”
“And it was a girl, as well. What I mean is - we’re still in the relatively new stages of our relationship. Things will get missed out, either on purpose or by pure accident. It doesn’t really matter, unless it was something major like a sex crime or a murder or a lifelong obsession with Status Quo. You live and learn, don’t you?”
“... It was a girl?”
“Yes. It was a girl. I knew you’d ignore the relevant information in that speech.”
“No, it’s just - wow.”
“Not wow, Grandad. Hey-hey! Snap out of it!”
She pushed a soggy hand into his shoulder and he shook his head.
“Hangover brain. Sorry.”
“I bet.”
“You missed a bit.” He pointed out, gently moving her hands and taking over. His touch was light, but thorough.
“How come you’re so good at shampooing?”
“I had long hair once, remember. Although it was probably before your time. Rinse?”
She nodded and he leaned over her to the unhook the shower nozzle.
“So we didn’t agree to have a threeway, then?” He repeated, directing the spray into her hair.
“You both said you were drunk.”
“Did you really want one?”
“I don’t know.”
Ritchie set the nozzle down into the bathtub.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Do you fancy Daniel?”
“Do you?” She retorted. “What a stupid question. Did you ask the reviewer if she fancied him before you decided who got which end?”
“She wasn’t my girlfriend. I’d understand if you did. Everyone does.”
“I don’t. I like him - he’s nice. But you know what I like even better?”
“What?” She grabbed his collar and pulled him close so their eyebrows were touching.
“The idea of being pounded by two guys at the same time.”
“Really?” Ritchie replied, eyes stretched wider than ever before.
“Yeah. Although I’m a greater fan of the spit roast than double penetration, if you must know. But being fucked solidly whilst I get to deep throat and practice my oral gymnastics at the same time and.... Oh, it’s hard to explain. I like both of those feelings equally and being able to have both of them at the same time, and with two of...”
She stopped and thought for a moment.
“Better with someone you love, and someone you respect, than some randoms in a club, coked off their skulls and limp.”
“How has this never come up before?”
“It never seemed relevant to chip in with ‘by the way - totally open to a threesome; just so you know.’ But I like you even better than the idea of doing that, obvs.”
Then she stuck her tongue down his throat. When she let go, there was something of a stunned silence as she stood to get out of the bath.
She wrapped the towel around herself and leant over to pull out the plug.
“Glad to hear it. Do you need me to dry you off?”
“Depends how you’re intending to ‘help’.”
It was almost eight by the time they were finished; no real time to sleep before the gig, so they downed Pro-Plus and Irn Bru chasers and hoped for the best. Daniel was silent on the walk to the venue. Silent in the green room, putting on his suit. Not needed for the first twenty minutes, Siobhan curled up on a chair and watched them working around one another. It was almost art; instinctively moving away and weaving in and out of their personal spaces with ease. They made a better couple that she did with Ritchie; certainly more in tune.
“Have you got it?”
Daniel tapped his shirt pocket. “Yep. And a spare. The markers are on stage in the right place this time. Aren’t they?”
“Yeah, I just checked with Tiny, everything’s good to go.
“Let’s have at it then.”
She was hugged and kissed and told to get a wiggle on and put her fucking tracksuit on and then they were gone. Before long she could hear the laughter reverberating back along the corridors and began to change into her costume.
That night was the best yet - it would turn out to be the best of the entire run. They ran off stage after an encore and impromptu audience Q&A still buzzing with reciprocal
love and satisfaction. It was all Siobhan could do to stop herself ripping Ritchie’s clothes off and having him in the middle of the dirty, splinter-ridden floor.
Instead, she pulled off her nurse’s uniform (revealing only a modest Hello Kitty onesie) and clambered onto a vacant chair to announce “Let’s climb Arthur’s Seat.”
Ritchie was halfway out of a pair of chinos. “You what? It’s gone midnight.”
“Exactly. Less traffic. And the adrenalin. It’ll be reet. Let’s go.”
“But it’s dark outside.” Whined Daniel, flinging props and left over junk food into his bag.
“Where’s your sense of adventure? I’ve got this;” she proffered the Darth Vader flashlight dangling from her house keys. Daniel scoffed.
“That piddling little thing?”
She rolled her eyes and pressed the switch down, illuminating the darkest corner of the room in a split second.
“Never underestimate the power of the Dark Side.” she intoned, flicking the keys back into her bag.
“Did he tell you to say that?”
“Might have done. Look, if you fall in sheep shit or dog shit or goose shit or whatever on the way up, we will come back down and speak no more of it. We’ve got a flask of Irish coffees leftover and no early starts tomorrow. Come on.”
“Can’t argue with that logic.” said Ritchie, grabbing his coat and following her out, with Daniel bringing up the rear begrudgingly.
It took them over an hour, in total. The boys had seen it all before, but Siobhan kept turning back to view the city as they climbed, getting smaller but somehow sharper and brighter the further they distanced themselves from it. At their chosen point of the summit, she laid out her coat and sat on it - the day had been consistently warm and even past 1am the air was just balmy enough for minimal clothing layers. Lying on her back she could see a faint spattering of stars fading in and out of view. Daniel came and lied down next to her, half on the grass as Ritchie took off to find a rock to relieve himself behind.
“Beautiful country.” He said, after a while. She nodded, still staring up at the un-black sky, taken aback by how small and insignificant it made her feel.
“How’re you feeling, as your first time comes to an end?”
“I... I don’t know. I don’t feel anything, right now.”
Always Leave Them Wanting More Page 5
