“It’ll be okay, Paul, and if it’s not, we’ll get through it, okay?”
He doesn’t look at me. “I know, I know.”
He’s lucky – he went for a job interview last week and starts teaching German in a secondary school, right after the Easter holidays. It’s maternity cover but I don’t doubt it’s the start of something. With his PGCE and a lot of substitute teaching under his belt, it was a no brainer for the interviewer. I honestly don’t know why Paul didn’t get a proper job sooner, except that maybe he was trying to avoid real life. It’s also gone pretty much unsaid but is near enough a thing now… that he’s basically moved in, according to the male toiletries in the bathroom and clothes piled up in the corner of my room, not to mention his dirty pants in my wash basket. We’ll discuss the technicalities once he starts earning.
I’m meeting Theo for lunch today but I haven’t told Paul about it. I don’t know why I haven’t mentioned it – I suppose I want to be the one who tells Theo about our new relationship.
“Have a good day,” he says, as I kiss him goodbye.
“Thanks, I’ll see you later.”
Theo’s waiting for me as I arrive at the posh coffee shop not far from the hospital. He’s been waiting for me before ordering, I see.
“Am I late, or are you early?” We kiss hello.
“Early, I think,” he says with a grin.
I get sat down and he passes me a menu. “The rarebit is meant to be amazing and the coffee’s superb, I hear.” For once, he doesn’t sound sarcastic, he even sounds upbeat.
“Thanks, let me see…” I pick out a panini with loads of weird ingredients like ham and grapes and stuff, and also a coffee, because I know it’ll make him happy. Strange man. There’s table service and our drinks swiftly arrive, then we get down to business.
“So, you’re off soon, then?”
“Yep, three days left. Gave up my rented room, had to hire a man with a van to bring all my shit home.”
He rubs a finger under his eye and I notice a tiny purple mark, like maybe he recently had an altercation with someone. I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of Theo, he does martial arts or something and is the tallest man I’ve ever known.
“You seem… what’s the world… released?”
“I think I am,” he agrees, “you just don’t know what it’s like living down there until you do. Maybe it’s just not for me.”
“Maybe.”
He looks good today in a leather jacket, black jeans and t-shirt. He looks… kind of like he couldn’t care less. Perhaps that’s the difference: he just stopped caring suddenly.
“How about you?” he asks, slurping his coffee. “What’s new?”
I feel colour rise from my neck upwards and my nerves get the better of me. I decide to say it before my mouth turns to sand. “Me and Paul have kind of…”
He waits for me to say more, leaning in, lips pursed. “Kind of…?”
He doesn’t look disgusted yet which means he hasn’t anticipated what it is I’m about to say.
“We’re together.”
Elbows on the table, he steeples his hands in front of his face, resting his chin on two outstretched thumbs. “Come again.”
“We bumped into one another… his dad was in the hospital… it just happened. He’s living with me now and starting a new job, next month.”
Theo screws his eyes up and rubs his face, like he’s irritated.
“He didn’t tell me he was back. He hasn’t even told Adam otherwise he’d have told me.”
“It’s been a hectic time; his dad had a liver transplant. Paul had to fly back from Japan suddenly and, there we go, that’s the whole story.”
The food arrives and Theo doesn’t even look down at it. The steam from his rarebit toastie wafts up into his face and he’s still staring into space, not saying anything. This isn’t normal because Theo loves his grub and he should, there’s a lot of him to feed. Equally my panini is going uneaten and I’m starving, too.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
His jaw’s clenched. “I dunno.”
“You have something to say, you’re just too polite to say it.”
My hand begins to tremble and he reaches for it from across the table.
“Maybe I’m just sad that our pact is screwed up now. I know you love Paul and if anyone can help him get his act together, it’s you.”
I swallow hard, my face softening because I can see he means it. “What do you mean, get his act together?”
Theo finally takes a bite out of his sandwich, then once swallowed, he says, “His dad’s an alchy, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Theo shrugs and looks at me, as if I’m meant to know exactly what he’s referring to.
“Paul’s hardly drunk anything lately, if that’s what you mean.”
Theo looks down at his food, mumbling, “Maybe leopards do change their spots, then.”
“I would know if he had an issue, Theo. I’m a fucking psychologist.”
He holds his hands up. “You’re a big girl, Lily. I know you’ll be okay no matter what. It’s him I worry about. Me and Adam both tried. Trust me, you don’t know what you’re taking on.”
I want to believe so much that Paul can change and not screw me around anymore, but only he knows his own heart and I have to believe he’s turning a corner.
“His dad’s out today so we’re visiting him tonight.”
Theo turns pale and eventually murmurs, “You’ll see for yourself, then.”
The rest of lunch passes quietly, with only the odd brief moment of us catching each other’s eye. Outside as we prepare to bid adieu, Theo grabs me in a fierce hug and doesn’t let go.
“Till we meet again, fair Lily. Till we meet again.”
He slowly releases me, then walks away.
Why does it feel like he’s condemned me without knowing all the info?
In the living room of his mum and dad’s house, we’re sat around waiting for his father to emerge. He’s been in the downstairs toilet now for ages, almost like he’s avoiding me and Paul.
Eventually he shows up, staggering towards his makeshift day bed on the pull-out sofa. He gets himself comfortable and doesn’t recognise we’re here, or is choosing to ignore us completely for some reason.
Paul couldn’t be more tense beside me. I can feel it in the way he’s gripping the sofa arm.
His mother yells at Paul’s dad, Brendan, “Aren’t you going to say hello to your eldest?”
“Hello,” the grouchy old fart says, looking at nobody, doing nothing but stare into space.
“And his girlfriend, Lily?” Paul’s mum demands.
Brendan grimaces, saying nothing except, “Won’t last, never does.”
Paul’s off his chair and out of the room, then out of the house, like a shot.
Lydia looks at me apologetically, saying nothing. The younger brothers are sitting at the other end of the room in the dining area, quiet and absorbed by their phones. I guess that’s their way of ignoring the git in the room.
My blood runs cold as I watch Brendan, stuck with his own thoughts, the TV off because there are visitors. I reach into my bag and hand Lydia a card as I make my way towards the door.
“Your GP can refer you, this guy’s really good.” I give her a card for a specialist who treats alcoholics exclusively. “Tell them it’s life or death, they’ll listen then.”
She walks me to the hallway, hands me the card back with tears in her eyes and says, “He doesn’t want help, but thank you, angel. Now, go look after my son.”
“Okay.”
She hands me two bags containing Paul’s things that’ve been stacked against the hallway wall – the last of his stuff, meaning he’s officially moving out.
“See you, Lydia. Call me if you need anything. Anything. I mean it.”
“Will do.” She hustles me out of the door and I’m left with a horrific feeling of failure and doom. Lydia has accepted that he’s bee
n given another chance, but like Paul, she also doesn’t believe Brendan is going to do anything good with it.
I stuff Paul’s bags into the boot of my car and look around me on the street, finding him nowhere to be seen. I drop into the driver’s seat and give him a call, but he rejects it.
Great, just great.
My mind turns back to my conversation earlier with Theo and I feel sick.
I start driving around the neighbourhood, looking for him on the street.
Eventually I find him, stood just around the corner from the local pub, wondering if he should go inside. I pull up and fling the passenger door open.
“No time for that, Paul. Got a new life to live.”
It takes a few minutes but he eventually gets in the car.
As we approach my neighbourhood, he squeezes my thigh and I turn to see his upset face. I’m so angry I can’t do anything to change that vile man.
“Your mum is a warrior, Paul, that’s all I can say.”
His chin wobbles and he looks away.
What a terrible situation.
Chapter Eighteen
When we arrive home, I’m not sure what mood he’s going to be in this evening, but as soon as the door shuts, I see something in his eyes I’m familiar with. He wants me in the bedroom; he needs to let it all out on me and I’m happy for him to do that. If this is what it takes to get his mind off having a drink, so be it.
I leave my coat and shoes in the hallway and walk to the bedroom, waiting by the bed. He follows me, moves up behind me and says nothing. He covers my breasts with his hands and squeezes. I moan, throwing my head back, ready for him whenever, wherever.
He licks my throat and teases my nipples over my top, tugging them into tight buds.
I want him to be an animal but should I say that? Should I? Or will he think I’m a slut?
It’s all taken out of my hands when he throws me onto the bed face first. I land, sprawled and in shock, catching my breath. I’m wearing leggings paired with a long, floaty top and he tugs the leggings down to reveal my lace thong.
Biting into my bum, I groan, egging him on to do more – much more. This is the man I’ve fantasised about for so long and I want him so bad. When he slaps my bum hard, I scream, “Yes!” because I want more… always more. I want everything with him.
He yanks my thong to the side and spreads my bum cheeks open with his hands, exposing my delicate inner folds to the cool air of my bedroom. His beard brushes against my bottom and then a hot, wet appendage finds its way into my tight hole, sending me into a spasm of almost-orgasm, but not quite. He gets his whole mouth around me down there and sucks, making me yell for him to keep going, don’t stop.
He sucks my clit rhythmically, my thighs shaking, my tits aching to be released. It’s so vicious it’s almost too much to make me come and he knows just what he’s doing when he slows everything down and uses the tip of his tongue, swirling around my clit, then flicking, then swirling. In no time I’m contracting against nothing and wishing for the hundredth time he was inside me.
He stands up and flips me over, dragging my leggings and panties off while I’m splayed naked from the waist down, lying on my back on the bed.
“Sit up and keep your legs open so I can see,” he commands.
He unzips his jeans and kicks them away, not wearing any underwear today. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have any clean ones.
I’m presented with a thick, hard ridge of flesh – pure, stone-hard evidence of his arousal – and I lick my lips as he comes towards me, giving me his cock to suck on.
I look up as I lick around the head of his penis but he’s not got his eyes open. He moans as I tongue the eye of his penis and he grabs my hair to steady himself when I take him back into my throat. As his precum leaks into my mouth, I sip it down my throat with glee.
I’m shocked when he starts thrusting and makes me want to gag, but I’m equally as shocked that my pussy is dripping even more because of his macho lunges into my mouth.
He grabs my hair so hard I think I’m going to cry, but then I realise… he’s going to come. His eyes are tight shut and his balls are firm in my palm… the spine of his cock is beginning to contract.
He pushes against the very back of my throat and splashes down my oesophagus, gifting me his seed. I’m still wondering where the hell that came from when he opens his eyes and looks at me darkly.
“Naked,” he commands, with so much grit in his voice, my nipples become painfully hard.
I stand and remove my top, then shimmy out of my bra.
I’m brave and reach out, helping him to remove his t-shirt.
“Lube,” he commands, and I briefly look down at his cock, wondering how he can go again. “I said lube.”
There’s more than anger in his tone, there’s torment and rugged heartache, there’s everything he’s been holding back. I walk around the bed and reach into my bedside drawer, grabbing my bottle of lube, which so far he hasn’t asked to use.
“Set it down on the bed,” he says, and I put it in the middle, hoping that’s where he meant.
He instructs me to come to him with the come-hither motion and I walk to where he’s standing, his cock semi-hard.
“If you want to be spanked, get on the bed on all fours and I’ll spank you.”
My heart fires up and a little demon dances inside my belly, thrilled by the proposition. I do exactly as he says and get on all fours.
The slap he gave me before was tame in comparison as he rains down a sharp, loud thwack on my bottom, blood rising to the surface instantly.
“Ah, god,” I groan.
“More?”
“Yes, more.”
He slaps the other side and I’m nearly shunted forward, realising I need to shift my body weight more onto my arms to steady myself, which only opens my pussy to him more.
He thwacks me once more and I’m sweating, panting, the sting zinging all over my skin, my core leaking profusely and even throbbing, like my hole is constantly opening and closing.
I don’t look behind me, I wait to see what happens. When his hands stroke my raw skin, I cry out, and when he slides two fingers into me, I groan and sigh, thankful for having something inside me finally.
He fucks me with his fingers, stabbing at me until I come, my muscles squeezing his fingers and slaking my pussy even more than it already is. He takes time to rub my clitoris and murmurs, “It’s so swollen.”
Paul mounts the bed behind me and out of the corner of my eye, I see him reach for the lube. I only hear the bottle being squeezed and have no idea what to expect.
Cool liquid combined with his warm fingers meets my anus and I breathe a sigh of relief while also wondering… what has he got planned? I’m hoping…
I cry out and sigh as he fills me with his fingers, urging me, “Relax, let it happen.”
I know he’s probably done this before which does give me confidence, while also making me sad his first time doing anal wasn’t with me.
It feels unreal as he gradually stretches me and I’m shocked to hear the bottle being squeezed again, not sure where it’s going this time.
“Relax,” he urges me, still playing with me, stretching and opening, manipulating me to relax.
I move my head slightly and catch sight of him stroking his cock, shiny with the lube, his head rolling around on his shoulders as he enjoys rubbing himself and fucking my arse with his fingers. I don’t think he sees me watching, his gaze focused between his hard, slick cock and my tight pucker.
The bottle is squeezed again but this time he uses it between my crack, lubing me up until he’s able to stab my tight hole in the same way he just did my pussy.
My back aches as he fucks my arse with his hand and before I even know it, a new part of me is leaking and on fire… then I ejaculate from a new place… all over him.
He moves in quickly, releasing his fingers at the same time as squeezing the bottle again and sneaking his cock into where he was just screwin
g me.
“Oh my god,” I yell, grasping the bedcovers beneath me, gently urging him on by moving back onto him. “Do you think I’m wet enough?”
“Could be wetter,” he growls, easing in deeper and deeper.
When it feels like I’m full up to my chest, he pulls back slowly and the bottle’s there again, slaking the length of him as he pulls out, ready to go back in.
“Yes,” I scream, when he slams into me, and again he repeats the motion of before – more lube and then another slam.
When the lube is tossed away and Paul seems content at having created a bath for his cock in another of my holes, he starts pounding into me and I realise… why. He wanted to be able to fuck my arse like this.
I grip the sheets and try to brace myself, breathe, hold on. It’s so tight… so big… I can feel every single inch of him like this. Not that I don’t love him in my pussy, but this is incredible.
He grunts as he fucks my arse, his hands holding on tight to my hips as he slams me.
I feel something come over me, a brewing storm, from another new place inside me, and as he gets even deeper, I can no longer breathe and I feel his heat pour into me, then a wave of euphoria ripples through me, from my bowels to the tips of my toes, and back up again to my scalp – a new orgasm that almost takes me right out of myself.
Paul scoops me up, carries me to the pillows and pulls the blankets over us. I feel like I need three showers and that everything between my legs is about to dry, resulting in my pussy being caked shut.
“We’ll have a bath in a bit, I just want to hold you for a while,” he murmurs into my hair.
I rub my cheek against his hairy forearm, whispering, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He kisses my ear and holds me tight, our bodies flush, pressed tight together.
His breathing settles and he eventually sounds calmer, feels calmer, all the tension in his muscles earlier completely gone.
I don’t know if it’s because of my profession, but I have so much to say. So much to discuss, and yet I know, he’s not ready for that – moreover, I don’t know if he ever will be.
Bad Friends Page 11
