It was only just over a week after I broke up with my boyfriend that the university term was over and I headed back home to my parents' house for the Christmas break. My Dad picked me up from the station and asked about anything but my ex. How were my flatmates? How was the course? How much work did I have to complete over the break? Was I ok for money? He spoke more than usual, probably worried that if there was a silence I would fill it with tears over my ex. As soon as we got home he disappeared into the living room and turned on the TV with the volume very high. My mum was the opposite, and wanted to check that I was ok over a cup of tea almost immediately I was in the front door. I told her that he had cheated on me, and left it at that. I didn't need to tell her about the revenge Issy and I had dished out to him.
As more of my friends arrived back from their universities over the weekend, a Sunday evening trip to the pub was planned, and I received a few messages assuring me that my ex was not invited. My two best friends and I arranged to meet earlier to catch up over a bottle of wine. It was a bitterly cold winter day so I wrapped up in a thick winter coat, along with hat, scarf and gloves.
I strolled into the pub and saw that Jess and Emma had arrived already and managed to get our favourite table, in front of the fire with a couple of battered but comfortable sofas and armchairs to settle down into. Emma was just pouring a bottle of red wine into three glasses so I knew they had only just got there themselves. I made my way to the table and before I had even managed to take off my hat or gloves Jess pounced on me asking for more details about my break up. We had shared texts and phone calls, and she and Emma both knew that he had cheated on me, and it was over, but they could tell there was more to it. I removed my winter layers, settled into a sofa, and took a deep sip of wine before relaying the whole story, including going back to his room with Issy and getting at least a little bit of revenge, but leaving out everything involving Issy beyond the kisses.
Jess and Emma were astonished, and agreed that the revenge I had taken was really unlike me, but Emma in particular fixated on my kisses with Issy, and the way I had described them: passionate, but lustful at the same time, and somehow both firm and gentle. She really wanted to know what else Issy and I had done together, and seemed almost disappointed when I told her that had been the extent of it. There was something about her level of intrigue that stopped me giving the full detail.
They were also desperate to know whether I had engaged in any rebound hook ups. They weren't surprised that I hadn't, but they did tell me that it was never too soon to get back in the game. While they understood that my confidence had been knocked they assured me that the best way to build it up again was to branch out and have sex with someone, anyone, else. I promised to keep them up to date when I went back to university, since it was highly unlikely anything would happen in my home town over the Christmas break, when most of my time would be spent with the two of them or my family.
While discussing the events in my life over the past couple of weeks we had drunk the whole bottle of wine. Emma went to get us another one, and while she was gone a few more friends, and friends-of-friends, arrived and joined us at our table. We all spent a couple of hours chatting and drinking, filling all of the space around the table, squeezing close together on the sofas and chairs. I ended up sat next to Mike, one of the guys who I didn't really know. As the evening progressed the wine and beer flowed freely, and despite not knowing him well I settled back close to him feeling comfortable against the warmth of his body.
The table and seats were crowded enough that this could easily have been two friends just squeezing together to make enough space, but I caught Emma and Jess's eyes a couple of times and could tell what the looks they gave me meant. Mike was attractive enough, but not really my type and I had very little in common with him, and I had no idea what would happen, but when Jess looked at me and caught my eye for a third or fourth time I shuffled even further back into him.
For a long time he continued a conversation to the left, and I to the right, and although we were squeezed together we may as well have been parts of different groups. After a few minutes I felt his arm, which was sandwiched between my back and the sofa cushion behind, move inwards and downwards so that his hand was on my lower back. He gently rubbed up and down, just a tiny amount so as to be imperceptible to anyone else. After a short time he paused as if waiting for a reaction so I ever so slightly pressed his hand tighter against the sofa. He took this as a sign to proceed, so slowly moved his hand down to the top of my ass.
