Not So Special Agreement Pt 02

Friday night at the pub was always a busy one. At weekends, we would ring for last orders at twenty to eleven to give us enough time to serve everyone before eleven. Yes, in those days, public houses stopped serving at eleven. Even then, people always doubled up their drinks to get every drop of alcohol they could before we turfed them out. I was still suffering the effects of the alcohol and late bedtime the night before.

"Giz a shandy, love!" Came a voice from the far end of the bar.

"Wait your..." I cut myself off as I realised it was Jay. My heart missed a beat. "What are you doing here?" I asked him.

"Came to say sorry." He didn't seem bothered that the queue of punters waiting to be served could hear him. A few of them uttered an "Ah. Sweet," or some such sentiment.

"Oh, that's sweet. Thanks. Me too," I tried to be pleasant. "Slack night?" I had to go to his end of the bar for a mixer.

"No. It's quite busy, but I thought it was important to call in while I was around," he explained. "So, how about the shandy?"

"Fiancé or not, I've got other customers before you." I still managed to pour a shandy for him while serving other customers.

"Are you going back out?" I asked.

"Nah! Not in the mood, really. Not after what happened."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No. Stop. It was me that shouted first."

"Well, yes, it was."

"Let me finish," he insisted.

"I jumped to conclusions. I thought it'd been there for days."

"No. It came yesterday."

"Hey, gorgeous!" A shout from the other end. It was one of the regulars, "How about a pint of bitter?"

"Alright. Calm down," I responded, "You'll get served."

"Go on," Jay said, "I'll wait."

"Tell him to piss off," flirted the regular, "you're coming home with me."

"In your dreams Pete!"

"Oh, every night, love. My sheets are like cardboard."

"You dirty git! Shut up!" I served him and walked back to Jay.

"I thought I'd wait around and we could go home together."

"It's going to be at least an hour," I advised him.

"It's okay. I'll just sit and relax."

"Why don't you go back to work and..."

"No! I might get an airport job and that'll be more than an hour."

"Alright, Jay, my man!" Big Dave slapped Jay on the back, still unaware of how rough he could be.

Big Dave was called Big Dave because, well, he wasn't Little Dave, who was not one of the biker crowd. I'd dated him before I hooked up with Jay. Jay is the only person ever to threaten Big Dave and get away with it. Mind you, Jay wouldn't have done it if he'd known Big Dave was, well, big! Dave knew this and, out of respect for me, did nothing about it. In fact, he'd become quite friendly.

"Ain't seen you for ages. Bring your drink over."

"Maybe in a few minutes," Jay said, not convincing me.

Dave walked away and Steph walked up as elegant as ever. Dark, almost black, hair cascading over her shoulders. Her long, black, figure-hugging dress emphasised her well rounded breasts. Only the conspicuous outline of a heavily engineered bra spoiled the effect. She never went braless and she would look super stunning if she did. "Is this the famous Jay?" she enquired.

Jays eyes popped at the almost classic beauty in front of him.

"Yes," I said. "Jay, this is Stephanie. She prefers Steph."

"Pleased to meet you," he said as Steph offered her hand. Instead of shaking, he turned it over and kissed the back. My knees buckled in sympathy.

"I'm just taking a break," I called to the other barmaid, and walked around to Jay and Steph.

"Come over and meet Dave," Steph said to Jay, and we walked to where her boyfriend sat. She made the introductions.

Steph's Dave was the Little Dave I mentioned before. He wasn't particularly little, but he was smaller than Big Dave. While Big Dave was a biker, this Dave was one of those who didn't fit in either category of biker or hippie, but he got on well with them all.

"Jay drives a taxi." Steph informed Dave of this fact as if it was something special. She had been drinking all night.

"I'm at a training scheme as well, learning electrics," he informed them.

"Wow!" Dave exclaimed. "I've been into electronics since I was a kid. I'm going to invent something really useful one day!"

And that was it. Jay and Dave got on like a house on fire. I don't think either of them even noticed when I stood up and returned to the bar and my clearing up.

"Right! That's me finished," I said to the trio at almost midnight. "Take me home, Parker."

"Yes, m'Lady." Jay put on his best Parker impression.

The wall-bed was still down and made up from my earlier nap, and it was so inviting. I was tired still from having been drunk the previous night, so I was not really in the mood for being physical. However, Jay had taken the evening off to come and apologise, so I didn't offer that much resistance.

It was gentle and laid back love making, with no sense of urgency, and slow and functional foreplay. As he lay between my thighs, covers over both of us for warmth, I wrapped my legs around his and pulled him close with my arms, kissing him as we coupled.

Jay's relaxed sliding back and forth in my vagina was a contrast to his usual thrusting energy, but the warmth and euphoria of love more than made up for that. It was a slow build that took much longer than usual. As I felt the tension of pleasure building within my loins, I hugged my lover tight.

"I love you so much, James Parkinson."

"And I love you more an anything, Sandra Terry."

And with that, the warm surf of a climax flowed through me, flushing my skin from sternum to cranium. Feeling my pleasure, Jay released himself into me.

We continued to hug as reality drifted away from me and sleep drifted towards me. Dreams were warm and fluffy with Jay and I lying in a field. Yes, we were making love, Jay on top, thrusting away. I awoke and looked into Jay's eyes. He was on top and thrusting away, and I was now awake.

"Jay!"

"What?"

I pushed him off.

"It was lovely going to sleep with you still inside me, but I do need some sleep."

"Sorry, I thought I'd drifted off in the middle and you hadn't..."

"I was well and truly satisfied." I rolled over and kissed him. "Now go back to sleep."

He began to snore almost immediately.

***

Being Saturday, there was not a rude awakening from the alarm the next morning. Instead, Jay woke me with a cup of tea around ten, which was a hell of a sleep in for me.

"Good morning, girlfriend of mine," Jay said as cracked open my eyes to the sight of this beautiful, naked male standing at the side of the bed. I felt much better than I had the morning before.

"Fiancé," I reminded him, waving my ring finger in his direction but staring at his elegant manhood. Jay's was not the biggest penis I'd ever seen, though he didn't know this, but it was smooth and elegant, like a well-designed aircraft. His foreskin was abundant and extended beyond his glans, coming to a point, giving the overall effect, when flaccid, of a smooth, pink candle.

Jay noticed me staring and his cock twitched.

"Not right now, gorgeous," I grinned. "I think I'm still soggy from last night."

Careful not to spill my tea, I leaned across and kissed the elegant point of prepuce, which was now filling up and becoming quite round.

"Are you sure about that?" Jay asked, a hint of bare glans peeping out at me.

"Absolutely." I said, getting out of bed and kissing him on the cheek. As arousing as it was watching Jay's erection metamorphosing from limp flesh, I really wanted a shower. I donned my dressing gown, gathered my toiletries and headed to the bathroom; Mrs Malory may have been an old bat, but she did provide some advanced facilities for the time.

When I returned, Jay was on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, cup of coffee in one hand, a copy of Aunty Jean's Forum in the other.

"This is interesting," he stated. "Where did these come from?"

"Jean lent them to me, so don't get any coffee on them!" I noticed the bed. "Ah, come on, Jay! You could have put the bed away, at least." I took the towel from my wet hair.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," was his less-than-satisfactory reply. I threw the wet towel at him.

"It's okay, love, I'll do it. Wouldn't want you to strain anything."

Our bed was a contraption known as a wall-bed, AKA Murphy Bed. Once the made up, straps would be pulled over to keep the bedding in place and it would then be folded into its own cabinet, which was screwed to the wall. Once you lifted it, springs would help pull it back into place.

I straightened out the bedding and strapped it over. As the bed snapped back up, something dropped on my foot. Moving the foot, I revealed a multi-coloured earring made of tiny beads that gave it a very Native American styling. I bent down to retrieve it and held it up as Jay looked over.

"Didn't know you had earrings like that," he said.

"I don't!" I sounded quite stern. "So, whose is it?"

"Buggered if I know."

"Well, it's not mine, it's not yours, and it hasn't been there that long?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Because it would have dropped out before, idiot!" I had no idea why I was irritated by this; there could have been several explanations apart from the obvious. "So, who's been on this bed that wears earrings like this?"

Jay pulled a face and shrugged. I knew I shouldn't be angry; I shouldn't be jealous. We had an agreement, but he was lying to me and this was our bed.

"James Parkinson, you're fucking lying to me!" Jay knew I was serious when I used his full address. "Shall we see if she's left anything else, eh?"

"San, don't..."

"Don't what? Don't state the fucking obvious? Don't look for more evidence?" I started looking around where the earring had fallen from. "Don't get pissed off because you're a deceptive little shit?"

That's when I felt them, in the crack. "Don't tell me. A fucking cliché." I pulled out a red, lacy pair of briefs. I dangled them. "You've shagged someone else in our bed and you're lying about it!"

Jay stared at me, lost for words.

"Have you got nothing to say?"

"Sorry?" He posed it as a question.

"Jay, just fuck off out to work and come back when you've got an explanation."

He knew from experience that the best way to treat me when I was in that sort of mood was to say nothing and leave me to sort out my feelings. He said nothing and left me to sort out my feelings.

***

Saturday was normally our day for visiting parents. What usually transpired was that Jay would go out to work for a few hours, come home and collect me, drop me off at my parents and then call at his parents. A couple of hours later, Jay would collect me again and we'd go back home for tea and then he'd go back out for the Saturday Night rush. He would often arrive home at three on Sunday morning.

I guessed Jay wouldn't be back to take me to my parents' today.

"Jay's been unfaithful to me," I blurted out on the phone to my Aunty Jean. I'd walked down to the phone box near the station rather than use the one in the hallway. I didn't really want the rest of the house to know my business.

"What do you mean, he's been unfaithful?"

"He's shagged someone else."

"How do you know?"

I explained to her all about the earring and the knickers.

"So? I thought you had an understanding. A special arrangement."

"Yes, we do but," I hesitated.

"But what?"

"He didn't tell me."

"Did you tell him about Zeb?"

"Well, no, but..."

"And the truck driver?"

"No. But that was different."

"You'll have to explain the differences to me, because I can't figure that one out."

"And it was in our bed. The night I stayed at yours."

"Ah! So, it's not about him shagging someone else! It's about it being in your bed and it's violated your territory."

"Well, put like that..."

"And that he might have spent the night with her?"

"I suppose," I offered.

"Sounds to me like you didn't discuss the ground rules of your little arrangement. That's what's wrong. He doesn't know where you would draw the line and you don't know where his boundaries are."

"Where did you get your wisdom from?"

"Life, young Lobsang, life."

We said our goodbyes, and I had a good think over what we'd just discussed on my way to my parents.

"What's with the face?" My dad greeted me as I walked in.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Looks like you've lost a fiver and found a penny! What's up? You and pram snatcher had a row?"

I really wished he would call Jay by his actual name. He was only four years older than me, which may have seemed weird four years before, when I first fell in love with him, but when I was almost twenty.

The rest of the afternoon was pleasant enough. I spent time with my parents, with my sisters Janine, who was almost four years younger than me, and Annie, who was four years younger than her. Janine was far too interested in Jay's and my sex life.

I was almost ready to leave when a knock sounded on the front door.

"It's for you!" Janine threw at me as she flounced through the living room en route to the kitchen. Apparently, she had hoped it was her school pal calling for her.

Jay had taken up a defensive position, with a garden gate between us, by the time I got to the door.

"Two rows in two days," Jay observed. "We're falling apart, San."

"No, we're not." I tried to reassure him. "We're just having some teething problems. And we need to talk about the ground rules. We also must learn to explain our feelings better."

"Ground rules?" Janine's voice echoed from the hallway.

Piss off and close the door, you little snoop! She did, and I walked closer to the gate.

"Not sure I like the ground rules part." Jay looked nervous.

"It's nothing. We'll talk later. Are you here to give me a lift?"

"Well I'm not painting an elephant!"

I've no idea where he got his expressions from.

"Okay, first thing," I began when we were under way, "Why wouldn't you admit that you'd slept with someone else?"

"I..." Jay hesitated. "I'm so not used to it. Honesty like that."

" '... as long as we are completely open and honest with each other,' our agreement says."

"I know. But I didn't know how you'd take it."

"A lot better than I took your deceit." There was an edge to my voice that was difficult to curtail.

"And have you been completely open and honest with me?"

I was shaken by the question. Given that I was challenging Jay's less than honest reaction, I couldn't be dishonest again. I hesitated.

"I think that's my answer," Jay said. "Isn't it?"

"Okay, no I haven't."

"Why would that be?"

"Okay! You've got me," I eventually conceded, "Because I didn't know how you'd take the truth."

"So, what is the truth?"

"I'm not telling you right now,"

"Why?"

"Because we can have that conversation another time. What we need now is some ground rules."

"Okay, like what?"

"The honesty bit. If asked a direct question, we have to give a direct and honest reply."

"Haven't we already got that in the 'open and honest' part of the agreement?"

"Yes, but it didn't work; for either of us. Did it?"

"I suppose not." He admitted.

"Your turn."

"Turn for what?"

"What ground rule would you like to include?"

"Don't make love to me straight after shagging someone else."

Oops!

"That'll give the game away a bit, won't it?"

"Well, that won't matter if we agree to be open and honest all the time."

"Okay. Point made. So, likewise. Don't screw me after you've fucked someone else."

"Okay."

"No screwing anyone else in our bed."

"Okay. Agreed," he said. "Don't over react when we are open and honest."

"That was because you were lying, not because you'd fucked someone." I wondered how much faith I had in that statement.

"I wasn't lying."

"You were lying just as much as if you'd denied everything. So, next rule, don't spend the night with someone else."

"Is that why you got so angry?"

"A bit."

"I see. Any more?"

"Isn't that enough for now?"

"So, who haven't you been honest with me about?"

"You won't let this go, will you?"

"No."

"If I agree to tell you after work tonight or tomorrow, will you leave it for tonight?" I asked.

"Okay. We're both off work tomorrow night. How about then?"

"Not going to come home early tonight, then?"

"Lost too much last night, signing off early."

I agreed to spill all the next day. Whether I would remained to be seen.

***

Big Dave invited me to a party after work that night. I cautiously accepted, making it clear that I was not on offer and that I would not be drinking. He accepted the conditions, and he arranged for Pete, the mechanic, to give me a lift there.

"Shall I bring some ale?" I asked Big Dave.

"If you want," he replied. "I'm taking some, but there'll be lots there, anyway. And you said you won't be drinking."

"I'll see what I can grab."

I bought a bottle of Pernod and a bottle of white lemonade and asked Pete if he had any room for them.

"Sure, Doll. They can go in my pack." Apparently, he had a leather bag attached to his tank. "You'll have to lend a skid lid off someone."

"Borrow - from,"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." I wasn't about to give him a grammar lesson after dealing with the Saturday night drinkers.

Luckily, many of the bikers took spare helmets with them to the pub. I had not dressed for riding pillion. My black and white wrap over skirt flapped in the wind, exposing my thighs to the cold, although I managed to jam the tail of my fake Afghan coat between them to protect the tops.

"Thanks, Pete." I said, clumsily dismounting after the scary ride.

"Any time, Doll." Pete passed me my bottles.

As I entered the mansion in Blundellsands, close to our bedsit, I realised I was no more dressed for a party than riding a motorbike. I asked someone where the coats could go and was directed to a bedroom. I found a bathroom first and removed my tights and black jumper, thinking that had I known I was coming to a party, I'd have worn my insurance knickers. However, the white cotton ones I wore wouldn't exactly inflame any passions. Rolling the jumper and tights together, I shoved them down the sleeve of my coat, then tied my white shirt into a knot below my boobs, in my regular fashion; I left the bra on. That was better, I thought, as I looked in the full-length mirror, more party-girl than barmaid now.

Coat over arm and carrying my contribution, I walked into the bedroom that had been pointed out as a cloakroom. The bright light from the landing spot lit a couple on the floor, whom I didn't recognise; it was only the bare legs wrapped around a waist above a hairy arse that was bobbing up and down that I noticed.

"Oops! Erm... Sorry." I could think of no appropriate words. What does one say to half naked couple shagging in the cloakroom? I was, obviously, more embarrassed than they were as they both glanced at me and then carried on with their rutting. I threw my coat on the bed. Should I have asked them where to put the drinks.

I found the kitchen where the stash of drink was to be found and added my bottles. I helped myself to a small vodka with orange juice.

It seemed like a fun party with many rooms to visit, each with its own style of music playing. There was even a room with a projector that was displaying grainy Swedish porn on a small screen. I thought it odd that there were more women visiting that room than men on the few occasions I visited during the evening. Even the person who seemed in charge of winding back the film was one of the girls.

On my first visit to the room, I stared in awe at the screen as three girls were kissing on a couch. Images were yellow and blobs kept appearing and disappearing. The girl on the left slid to the floor and moved in front of the middle one. She pulled apart the knees of the middle one and licked her vulva; at least, I assumed that was what she was doing, as I couldn't understand how anyone could find anything under all that pubic hair, let alone lick. Poor girl's mouth must have been thick with coarse strands. I'd never even seen two women kissing before. My mind drifted back to my conversation with Auntie Jean.