Reaching the Summit

Author's note: Sorry folks, this has been a very long time coming. Sometimes life gets in the way of writing.

John and Julie are now a week into a relationship of searing sexuality, and it will help you understand where they are if you read the first three chapters. I'm Scots and they are both Scots, so they speak accordingly.

My thanks to my sweet muse and editor, and to all the readers whose support and interest has helped sustain my writing.

*****

Julie wasn't there when he entered the pub. It had started snowing again though, so he reckoned she'd just hung back waiting for it to stop. He joined a couple of acquaintances with his pint, blethered inconsequentially, catching up on things.

Around nine fifteen his mobile sounded. He excused himself and went outside to take the call.

-John, what on earth did you say to Pat? She's been on the phone for the past twenty minutes, calling you every name under the sun. An absolute litany of evil: I coudnie get a word in edgewise.

Julie sounded angry – at him? Ach, what the hell! He outlined his discussion with his ex-wife.

-Oh! Was that all? Christ, I thought you'd raped her or something. No, sorry, I know you'd never do that, but I really did think you'd done something awful. I had wondered for a wee while about suggesting that you used the threat of money to push her along, but I couldn't interfere. I knew what I felt about you, have for some time. It wouldn't have been... right, somehow...

He chuckled:

-Oh did you indeed! Frankly it would never have occurred to me, it was Liz at work who put the idea in my head. Guess I'm just not naturally that sort of shit.

-Oh. Good old Liz! Anyway, it seems to have worked. Pat did say something about making an appointment with her lawyer. But... something else has happened. Our dear Heidie announced today that the school's due an HMI inspection – this fucking Friday! She must've known for weeks, they always give some notice, but she didnie crack a light till the day. So my head's been in paperwork all evening, and it will be till Friday, just making sure everything's in order. Sorry John, but d'you mind if I don't join you tonight? And lie low till the end of the week?

He knew just how everyone quaked at the news of a visit by Her Majesty's Inspectorate of Schools. He was a parent rep on the Board of his sons' school, and they'd all gone mental there the previous year when an HMI visit was announced.

-I understand lass. I'll leave you alone till Friday. But... I want you to know something. It'll be hard not seeing you. I've got things to do, started on a new story last week, so I'll focus on that. But I'll miss you terribly. You've become... awfie important to me, you know that?

-Aye, ah ken. As you have to me, my lovely man. Don't get drunk tonight! Um... I might give in and need to see you before the end of the week. And John...

-Mhm?

-I just can't stop thinking about what you did to me... what happened... this morning. My cunt's been wet all day.

His cock twitched at her words. Jesus, this was so beautiful. She was perfect for him. That was what he and Pat had never shared: part of why he'd philandered with women he'd met online. He'd wondered about that side of Julie. And of course himself: he didn't totally understand it in himself. But in Julie he knew her need, no shadow of a doubt:

-Oh darling – the word came so naturally, was out before he realised it – I'm so glad. So excited. We have a wonderful journey ahead of us. And I think a long one. Very long.

-Um... I hope so. I'm stroking my cunt right now, just talking to you.

-Let me know when you need me love. Now, I'm freezing in this fucking blizzard, and of course I didnie put my coat on to come outside to take your call...

-Get back to your pint then. I... I love you John.

She ended the call before he could respond.

*****

She couldn't get her head back into work straight away. Maybe she should call him back, tell him to come up and fuck the life out of her? No... she really HAD to work. But first, she had to attend to herself. She switched on her computer. Drummed the desk as it warmed up. Wanked herself to a tearing orgasm as she found and watched a BDSM video. Then finally got her head back into work, appalled at herself. What sort of a woman was she? What had John touched in her?

When she finally went to bed after midnight, she fingered the flogger contemplatively. Wondering... She switched the lamp off but couldn't sleep ... so wet. Her hand slid between her legs. Then she knew. Lamp on again. Duvet cast down. Fingered the flogger. Sniffed it. It just smelled of leather. It deserved to smell of something else. She drew her nightie up. Slithered the tendrils through her throbbing flower, tensing and twitching as they stroked her ache. Sniffed again. Cuntleather now. Looked at her phone, too late to call him. But she knew what she needed.

She spread her legs wide. Could she? Did she dare? She knew she had to find out. She fingered the flogger, sniffed it again. Rubbed the tendrils in her cunt, lifted it so they dangled. Saw her own need glisten on the strands of leather. Yes, she had to do this.

SLAP! She jerked hard, suppressed a scream when leather bit into her engorged labia. Jesus fuck. She was aflame, cunt stinging and screaming at her. Her fingers went to her clit, fondled gently till the knot of nerves keeked from its hood. SLAP! SLAP! Her being convulsed, clit throbbing in pleasurepain as the stinging tendrils agonised her. Close...

FUCKING JESUS... The final crack of the leather threads did it. Her cunt gushed as she squirmed in the intensity of orgasm, shrieking her release. Eventually she subsided, finally at peace with herself and her throbbing sex. Sniffed the leather again before she finally laid it back on the cabinet. Pulled her nightie down, and the duvet up. Fell into sleep.

*****

Two days had passed and he hadn't seen Julie, though they'd spoken on the phone every morning and evening. Then, Thursday, just before lunchtime, his phone rang at work.

-Mr. McLeod? John McLeod?

-Aye, speaking. Who's this?

He didn't immediately recognise the woman's voice.

-Ms Turner, Sarah Turner, your solicitor.

-Oh, sorry, didn't recognise you. How are you Ms Turner?

-Fine thanks. – her voice was clipped, professional – Look, I thought you'd like to know. Your wife's solicitor's been in touch. John, she's ready to sign. She just has a couple of quibbles. She wants us all to meet tomorrow afternoon if you can make it, four pm at her lawyer's office. Can you manage that?

His heart lifted, raced. Christ, she was ready to sign! But the quibbles...

-Aye, I can do four tomorrow. But... what are her issues Ms Turner?

He heard her laughter spluttering over the line.

-John, err, Mr. McLeod. I think she's just trying to save face, they're very minor, really.

-Ach, come ON woman, tell me please?

-You specified that you want the boys with you two nights a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays, and alternating Saturdays and Sundays every weekend?

-Yess...

-She wants her Saturday nights and Sundays to herself. Wants you to collect them every Saturday teatime, and return them after dinner on the Sunday. If you can compromise on that, you have a deal.

-I'll need to think. Give me a sec.

It would mean he missed out on his occasional early Sunday morning cycle rides with his mates, their traditional Three Lochs. Eighty miles of hard pumping. But what the fuck? A tiny price to pay for being a father to his sons.

-Aye, I think I could settle on that. Should you and I meet before we see her majesty tomorrow?

-Nope, I really don't see any other complications. Their office is on the corner of Byres Road and Highburgh Road, I think you know where it is?

-Yes. Four tomorrow then?

He called Liz on the office internal:

-Hey lassie! I owe you a lunch. Have you time for me now?

-John, you sound excited. What's happened?

-YOU'VE happened! You just changed my world!

He explained the call from his lawyer.

-John, I'm so glad. Does that mean that we can all expect you to be back to your normal self soon? And yes, lunch sounds great. Front office in... hmm... twenty minutes?

-Done lass. See you then.

He was fair bursting out of himself in a joy he hadn't known for years, and exploding with gratitude to his old friend and colleague. He called the nice veggie place ten minutes walk away. Then rang Julie on the school phone, waited till the assistant fetched her:

-Hi sweetie, sorry to phone you at school, I know it's not the best way to get you. But I just had to tell you.

She listened to her lover's voice:

-How lovely to hear from you John. Know you're excited...

-Can you join Liz and me for lunch in half-an-hour?

He told her what had happened, voice trembling with excitement.

-No, sorry love. We've a staff lunch to prepare for the inspection tomorrow, and I must be there. But do give Liz a big hug for me! What wonderful news! I'm overjoyed, know how much this means to you. And John, I know you're seeing the boys tonight. Can you come round after please? I... I really want to see you.

-Back o nine then? Yes Julie, I'll be there. But...

-Yes, I know. I need you too. Aching for you. See you then. Love you.

He couldn't remember feeling better in his life.

*****

Shhree-uchhh

The herring-gull settled on the lamp-post above him as he walked through the snow to her flat entry. He loved birds, but didn't like that the gull's shit had missed him by inches as it settled on the streetlight. They were bastards, herring-gulls. What were they doing thirty miles from open sea anyway? He let himself into the building and climbed the stairs to her door, smiling.

He heard the shower running as he opened the door, called to her. A muffled cry back:

-You're early John. Couldn't keep away from me then?

He was tempted to go and join her in the shower. Christ, he wanted her. But something held him back. He fetched a beer from the kitchen, settled with the paper. He wasn't sure he should stay tonight: she'd be in a state about the school inspection tomorrow. Not matching his exhilaration at the prospect of settling with Pat finally. It might not be appropriate to stay, not tonight.

Her face was drawn when she entered the room in her goonie, towelling her hair. He rose and drew her to him gently:

-Oh sweet, I can see the inspection's taking its toll on you.

Her arms wrapped round him and she snuffled:

-I think we're all as prepared as we can be, but it's been a hard couple of days. Everyone's frantic at school, specially the Heidie of course. I'm fucking drained John, forgive me, but I ... I just had to see you. Can you cope with me when I'm in a state like this?

-Mmm. Think I'll have to get used to you, whatever state you're in. As you've coped and supported me through hard times. I'm your pal as well as your lover Julie. I owe you lots of support. Just hope I can be good for you love. I do want to be.

He drew her to the settee, fetched her a G&T as she slumped, drained:

-May I help with your hair Julie?

Her face wreathed in smiles:

-God, would you? Nobody's ever done that before, my hair's very personal. But yes, I'd love that John. Um ... the drier and my brushes are in the bedroom, on the dresser.

-Well, I'd best go fetch them.

He kissed her nose, returned a minute later. Damp strands of hair fell about her face, tangles of brown on her shoulders.

-Tell me what to do? I want to pamper you Julie.

-Brush it all out first, look, like this.

Her hand took the brush and began long sweeping motions through the tangles. He took the brush from her:

- Like this? Lean forward lass, or would it be best if you stood till I get the hang of it?

-John, I'm too knackered to stand. Just as you're doing it, mmm, that's lovely...

He eased and teased with the bristles, pulling her hair down her back as she bent forward on her knees, the long brown strands silkier to his touch as the air dried them:

-My sweet Julie, I feel so privileged that you want me to do this. I've ... never done such a thing in my life before. Such lovely intimacy.

He leaned back, watched the shining mass sweep down her back, all brushed out

- Should I use the drier now?

He took her nod as assent and plugged in the drier, adjusted it, aimed it first at her crown. Then lifted long damp lengths, moving the drier in sweeping motions. She bent forward on her knees, relishing his attentiveness, wallowing in the care he bestowed on her:

-God John, it's so sensual. Much more than when occasionally the hairdresser does it. Adore your touch. Feel the love in your fingers...

He switched off the drier, gave the long tresses a final brush, watched as the static raised long hairs to the brush. Lifted her head. Kissed her brow and looked in her eyes. Her face was less drawn than it had been when she entered the room. He kissed her nose, returned his eyes to hers:

-Yes Julie. Love's the right word.

*****

He didn't stay with her that night and she didn't ask him to. They were attuned, didn't need the sex. Some needs can be stronger than sex, and they were adjusting carefully, both knowing there was something too important here to be overridden by lust. Not for tonight.

They arranged to meet for dinner the following evening, after she'd had a few post-inspection drinks with her workmates. And after he and Pat had been with their solicitors.

*****

She was flushed when she entered the restaurant. After a couple of drinks with her colleagues, he knew. God she was beautiful, a cool lavender tweed suit over a lacy white blouse, the skirt kilted, just below her knees. Black tweed cape over her arm. Blue stockings. Black laced Edwardian ankleboots. It was as though she knew his tastes precisely, and dressed to match them, though he knew that wasn't the case. He rose from his barstool and took her in his arms:

-Well, glad that's over? Oh sweet, you're so beautiful. I know that's superficial, but you are truly the most beautiful woman I've ever met. How was your day love?

-Oh John, you have no idea!

-I have an idea you had more than just a couple of drinks with your colleagues?

-Too fucking true!

She collapsed in giggles on his shoulder. He drew her to him possessively, guided her to their table. They'd agreed on Italian, and in this understated ristorante on Great Western Road the manager had given them a secluded table in a wee cul-de-sac, away from other patrons. A breathed bottle of fine Italian red awaited them as the waiter bustled with menus, raised the bottle. John cocked his head at Julie and the waiter poured a dribble in her glass. She sniffed, tasted, nodded. Glasses were filled and the waiter withdrew.

-Slainthe my sweet. Now – after the glasses had kissed lightly – tell me about the inspection?

-I ... I really don't know... I, we all, think it went well. But that was after downing a few in the Chip when we'd left school, right enough! The Heidie said the HMIs looked OK when they left, and she's entertained a few inspections in her time. So even though she can be a right pain sometimes, I respect her judgement. Anyway – she raised her glass to his again, crystal singing – its OVER! Praise the wee man, it's over. But John, – she flushed in embarrassment – I was forgetting. Much more importantly, how was your meeting?

-Well, Pat put a brave face on it all the way through. And at the end we signed the deed with good grace. She and I went for a drink after and had a civil chat, if a bit strained on her part. Maybe if I'm honest, on my part too. So – he was grinning, delight suffusing him – it starts tomorrow, the new arrangement! God, what a relief! All the stress of the past agonising year lifting. Course it's cost me, but what the hell, I've got what I needed, a real life with my sons again, and now I can go flat-hunting for our new home!

She was puzzled. He hadn't discussed the detail of the agreement with her, provision for access to his sons apart. Her voice was soft, concerned:

-What d'ye mean, it's cost you, John?

-Well, umm... – He flushed - Ach, you need to know, Julie. Pat's a good woman, and I know her like the back of my hand. But. I knew the only way to have access to my sons, with her complete compliance, was to... um, to purchase it. Sorry, but that was my judgement. So she's buying me out of the flat for well under the current valuation.

He emptied his wineglass in one:

-I did my sums of course. I need to have enough equity from the deal to buy a decent place for the boys and I, and one that's as handy as possible for Pat's place, and their school. And the secondary school, when they get there. But I think I've achieved that. It's just cost me maybe fifteen grand to do so. I can live with that. Shit, it's only money! As long as I have a nice home for them I don't care. I just won't be able to buy a car for a while, that's all, but who needs a car?

She rose, moved round the table, crouched beside him, hugged him.

-Ach John, I'm so happy for you, my lovely man. – She glanced in his eyes – I can call you my man, can't I?

He pulled her mouth to his, kissed her softly:

-Yes Julie. I'm your man. But now – laughing – shouldn't we have a look at the menu?

-In a sec John. But first – she glanced over her shoulder – please touch my cunt?

He hadn't seen that coming. His hand slid up her muscled thigh, under the soft tweed of her skirt... over the top of the hold-ups... sweet thigh-flesh... and into her naked cunt. She gasped as his fingers stroked her wetness.

-Oh Julie my sweet, how delicious. Later we need to explore each other so deeply...

His eyes were shimmering when she looked into them. It was less than a week since the beautiful day they'd shared on the frozen mountains, and she'd never doubted that they had found something wonderful between them, she and this strange man. But now it was certain. Ten days that shook the world? Seven, actually! His finger was on her clit and she shivered as she kissed his mouth, long, deep, aching need. She knew this man would complete her.

His finger withdrew slowly, traced her moisture down her thigh before it slid into his mouth.

-Oh Julie...

-Didn't you say something about the menu John? I do want to eat some food. Before I gorge myself on you.

She giggled, intrigued, as she sensed the power-shifts between them, the natural give-and-take she had felt with no other man. No awkwardness, no contrivance. No acting on her part, no performing to accommodate him, as she had with every other man – or woman – she'd ever been involved with. She'd always bent to accommodate her partners' needs. In the past. Mental if not physical submission. It was gone, or at least was going, with John. She knew she could fly free with him, be herself at last. And she knew he was as natural and open with her. Knew it in her soul.

-Aye weel, the menu then? Maybe you'd best get back in your seat so you can look at it Julie? Or – he pushed her face down on his cock, throbbing under the trousers of his best Magee suit – do you want to stay there and I'll read it to you?

She stood and lifted his bearded chin so his eyes were in hers. Slapped his face lightly. But a slap nonetheless. She smiled:

-I can read fine myself John. Thanks for the offer though.

*****

Well-fed, they eventually stepped into the cold night. The moon shimmering over them was more than a crescent now. They shrugged into their winter coverings, pulled hats on. Gloved fingers entwined.

-John, I want to walk home. That ok with you?

He kissed his assent, and they wandered winding residential streets till she pulled him left, down the lane under the Belmont Street bridge and its red sandstone crown-steepled kirk.