When There's an R in the Month

Judith was very quiet after the first time we fucked.

'You OK?' I said.

'Yeah. I'm OK.'

'You seem very quiet. I do hope that's not a sign of disappointment.'

'Disappointment? Gosh no. Anything but. I guess I'm just a bit surprised. A bit surprised that you and I... well... you know. Who would have thought it?'

'Blame the oysters,' I said.

Judith laughed. 'It's just that I had always thought of you and Jillian as the fairy tale couple. But now....'

And then it was my turn to laugh. 'Jillian and me? Yeah. I suppose that we were,' I said. 'For a while.'

'For a while?'

'For a few years. But you know how it is. A bit of a dodgy rehearsal. A great opening night. Several glowing reviews. But then, as the weeks and months go by, as the years go by, the crowds move on. Things settle down. I don't think that the fireworks ever last for ever, do they?'

'Oh? Not until death us do part?'

I laughed. 'I doubt if it was ever thus,' I said. 'One of religion's crueller jokes: leading people to think that the excitement might last until death parts them. But Jillian and I are still friends. We're just not....'

For a while, Judith said nothing. And then she said: 'So we are all doomed to forever roam the plains seeking new adventures?'

'Well, I'm not sure I'd go so far as to say doomed. Encouraged perhaps.'

'Encouraged by whom?'

'Encouraged by the spirit within, I suppose.'

'And when the music stops?'

'When the music stops?'

'When the spirit within no longer spurs you to find fresh flesh against which to press your own flesh? I am told that such things do happen.'

'Well, I suppose one always hopes that that day is a long way off. But, yes. I think the lucky ones are those who reach that stage having found a suitable companion with whom to see out their semi-celibate days.'

'You have it all figured out, don't you?' Judith said.

'I wouldn't quite go that far,' I told her.

I hadn't intended to fuck Judith. Well... I hadn't intended to fuck her that night, anyway. Looking back, perhaps it was inevitable that I would fuck her at some stage. But not that night.

We had attended a presentation at The Institute. The Institute had commissioned a major survey. Our firm had carried out some of the fieldwork, so I had a bit of an idea of what the main findings might be. Still... Simon thought that it would be a good opportunity for us to 'see and be seen' -- as he was wont to say.

The findings were pretty much as I expected they would be. And the presentation itself was deadly dull. Afterwards there were drinks. 'What do you think?' Simon said. 'Have we done our duty? Is it time to neck these and go and find somewhere to have a glass of proper wine?'

'Sounds like a plan,' I told him.

We finished our drinks, said our farewells, and the three of us -- Simon, Judith, and I -- headed up towards Cockspur Street. I thought that I knew all of the drinking holes around Whitehall and Trafalgar Square but, that night, Simon introduced me to yet another one.

'So,' Simon said, 'what do you think: were there enough surprises to get the press's attention?'

'I think that might depend on what other naughtiness is taking place in the world tonight,' I told him.

Judith laughed. 'It does seem to work a bit like that, doesn't it?' she said.

'If it bleeds it leads,' I said. 'And a wayward prince -- no matter how lowly -- trumps a serene queen every time. It was always thus.'

Simon, as 'the senior officer present', ordered a bottle of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc.

'This is certainly a step up,' I said, proposing a silent toast in his direction.

'On the whole, rather disappointing,' Simon said,

'This wine? Oh? I think it's rather good,' I protested.

'No, no. Not the wine. The Institute. The survey. The presentation. The whole thing. A wasted opportunity to demonstrate the industry's relevance,' he said. And, shortly after that, he announced that he might call it a night.

'You don't feel like a snack or something?' I said.

'No. But don't let me stop you two. I'll see you in the morning.'

After we had bade Simon goodnight, I topped up our glasses and asked a passing waiter for the snack menu. 'What's good here?' I asked Judith.

'Not sure,' she said. 'I've only been here once before.'

'With Simon?'

Judith smiled. I knew that she and Simon had had a bit of a thing going on at one stage, but then Simon suddenly married Marilyn. Whether that was the end of Simon and Judith, I wasn't really sure.

The waiter returned with the menu and I took charge, ordering a dozen oysters. Au naturel. On the half shell. 'With some balsamic dressing. And perhaps a few slices of sourdough bread to mop up the juices. Thanks.'

Judith smiled again.

Judith was wearing a red suit that evening. Not bright red. But bright enough to stand out from all the black and dark blue and charcoal suits that had filled the room at The Institute. 'You look very swish this evening,' I told her.

She laughed. 'Swish? No one says swish anymore, do they?'

'I think I just did,' I said.

The oysters were plump and salty. And they went perfectly with the grassy, citrusy Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc.

'Just as well that Simon is not here,' Judith said. 'When he rules the world, the eating of oysters -- especially raw oysters -- will be verboten.'

'Oh? Is he the protector of oysters?'

'No. But he can't understand why anyone would want to eat them.'

'And you?'

'Oh, I love them,' Judith said.

The skirt of Judith's red suit stopped short of her knees. Not a long way short. But just far enough short of her knees to make for an interesting view as I glanced across the low table. Perhaps the oysters were beginning to work even then. Who knows? But I found myself wondering if her black stockings were stockings or tights. I rather hoped that they were stockings. Stay-ups or the suspender-belt variety. I would be happy either way.

I thought that I was being very discreet with my glances. But, in retrospect, perhaps not. Two or three times, Judith rearranged her skirt. And then, at one stage, she allowed her knees to spread slightly. Not a lot. But enough to provide me with the promise of what might be above.

'There's a certain reliability about oysters, isn't there?' she said.

'Is there?'

'I think so,' Judith said. 'Is that not your experience?'

'We shall have to see,' I said.

Judith smiled and nodded.

It was only a little after eight-thirty when we reached the bottom of the bottle. But, by then, the tiny bar was packed to the rafters. And we were having to shout to be heard. 'Shall we...?' And I made a little walking gesture with my fingers.

Judith nodded.

I paid the bill. We got our coats. And we headed in the general direction of The National Gallery. I'm not sure why. Judith slipped her arm through mine and half snuggled against me as we walked. And then we found ourselves beside a doorway which the homeless had apparently not yet claimed for the night. I manoeuvred Judith into the small space and kissed her.

'Well... that took you long enough,' she said when she came up for air.

'I was giving the oysters a chance to do their thing,' I said.

Judith laughed softly and then she reached up and kissed me.

Judith's long coat was unbuttoned, and so I reached inside it and pulled her towards me. There was something about the way in which she pressed her toned body against mine that suggested that the oysters had not been duds.

'There's a little place just up in St Martin's Lane,' I said.

'Oh? And you know this because?'

'I have a cousin who was an MP. He often needed somewhere in town when The House was sitting late. I met him there for a drink or two once or twice.'

Judith laughed again. 'You're in charge,' she said.

From the street, Bowman House didn't really look like a hotel. It looked more like a private club -- which was how my cousin Jack and some of his partymen tended to use the place. 'Would you like a drink first?' I asked Judith, as we stepped into the almost overly-discrete lobby. 'Or shall I just ask them to send up some brandy?'

Again, Judith just laughed her soft laugh.

The room was small but perfectly adequate. A bed. A pair of period elbow chairs. Reproductions, but good reproductions. A small table-cum-desk. I closed the door behind us and gently pushed Judith back against the wall. She was trapped. But she wasn't complaining. And she certainly wasn't making any attempt to escape.

I reached down for the hem of her skirt. Judith knew what was coming next. She helped me to raise her skirt slightly, and then shuffled her feet just a little so that she could part her knees. I ran a hand, softly, up the inside of her warm thigh. Stockings. As I had hoped. Tights just complicate things.

'Stockings,' I said. 'Nice. It's all so much easier with stockings.'

Judith smiled. 'Oh... but I'm wearing a bodysuit. Would you like me to...?'

'Umm.... Yes. Thank you,' I said.

Judith reached between the tops of her warm, smooth, shapely thighs and popped the poppers securing the crotch of her bodysuit.

And then my exploring hand had a second pleasant surprise: Judith was hairy. Not bristly hairy. Softly hairy. And damp.

'Winter,' she said. 'I hope you don't mind. I usually shave in the summer. But in the winter....'

'Perfect,' I told her. Perfect, too, that the oysters appeared to have done their thing: her cuntal valley was as wet as a shag on a rock. 'Yes, perfect,' I told her again.

And then there was a tap on the door. Judith hastily straightened her skirt and tried to compose her expression while I answered the door.

'Good evening, sir,' the room service steward said. 'Ma'am.' And without another word he crossed the room and placed the tray with the two large brandy balloons on it onto the table-cum-desk.

'Thank you,' I said, as I slipped him a fiver.

'Oh. Thank you, sir. Ma'am. Have a nice evening.' And he left us to it.

'Now... where were we?' I said.

'I think we were just about to test out the efficacy of the oysters,' Judith said.

I nodded. 'Oh, yes. Quality control,' I said. 'Very important when there is an R in the month. Well... very important at any time, really. But especially when there is an R in the month.'

I helped Judith out of her coat and then, between us, we removed her suit. She kept her bodysuit on. The snatch flap was already open. After that, it was simply a matter of me kicking off my shoes and removing my trousers.

With my cock already swelling and rising towards the horizontal, I reached for my wallet.

'Oh? Are you going to pay me even before we begin?' Judith asked. 'My husband used to wait until afterwards.'

I laughed. 'Rubber goods,' I said.

'Ah. So you had this all planned. Or are you just a good Boy Scout?'

'I think I'd prefer not to answer that,' I told her. 'On the grounds that I may incriminate myself.'

'Fair enough,' she said.

With my cock now packaged for delivery, I suggested that she turn around and place her hands on the bed.

'Like this?' she said.

'Like it?' I said. 'I love it.'

She laughed again. 'That wasn't quite what I meant,' she said, looking back at me over her shoulder, 'but....'

I turned my right hand over so that it was palm up, curled my forefinger and my index finger in a come-hither gesture, and entered her furry honeypot from astern. And, yes, she was definitely as wet as a shag on rock. 'Are you always this slippery?' I asked.

'Only when Lady Brunt is expecting company,' she said.

'In that case, we had better not keep her waiting,' I said. And I lined up the head of my condom-clad cock and applied the required pressure.

'Oh! Fuck! Yes!' Judith said.

And 'oh fuck yes' it certainly was. Then, after we had both done justice to the oysters -- two or three times in Judith's case -- we collapsed on the bed and just lay there, looking up at the ceiling. My ex had often been quite contemplative after we had done the deed, but Judith was really quiet. That's when I wondered if it had all been a bit less than she had been hoping that it would be. But, happily, no.

I got up off the bed, crossed the room, and got the brandy balloons from the side table-cum-desk. 'Here's to oysters,' I said.

Judith smiled. 'To oysters,' she echoed. And then, having taken a sip of her brandy, she frowned. 'How will you know?' she asked.

'How will I know what?'

'How will you know that you have found a suitable companion with whom to see out your semi-celibate days. And, anyway, how will you know that it is time to be semi-celibate?'

I laughed. 'I have absolutely no idea,' I told her. 'But, hopefully, that is all still a long way off.' And then I asked her: 'Do you have any plans for Friday night?'

'Friday?'

'Yes. There's a new seafood restaurant that has opened just off the High Street. I thought that I might see if I can get a table for two. While there's still an R in the month.'

Judith smiled.