Bedtime Story 20

Bedtime story

I was surprised when the phone rang at 9pm on a Tuesday night. My second surprise was the caller. Lucy was the aunt of my ex-girlfriend, Gemma. Lucy was my age 42, and Gemma was 25 when we met five years earlier. I knew Lucy was Gemma's confidant with whom she shared concerns about our age difference.

"Hello Lucy, I'm surprised to hear from you. It must be nearly two years. It's nice to hear your voice, but late night calls out of the blue are never good news, so what are you calling to tell me?"

There was a pause on the line followed by a sigh of relief. "Hello Mark. I wish other men had your intuition. It would make life so much easier. Gemma asked me to let you know something she could not face telling you herself."

"That's typical Gemma," I said. "You are a good friend to do her dirty work."

The sob in Lucy's voice surprised me. "That girl is an idiot. I told her often enough she needed to grow up. I thought she'd do that with you, Mark. That your maturity would rub off on her." She sounded genuinely distressed. This was not just Auntie Lou doing her niece a favour.

"Don't upset yourself Lucy. She tried to turn me into her father. It messed with my head when I thought about it after we had sex." I'd put a lid on all that after Gemma left me, but obviously it was not tight enough. I apologised. "I'm sorry you heard me thinking aloud Lucy. You'd better tell me your news before I say anything else stupid."

"That's ok Mark. It's no consolation, but I warned her against doing that to you. But her father walking out when she was 11 left a gap you could not avoid filling. Anyway, she's not your problem anymore. I called to tell you she's getting married."

I sensed there was more, so I let the silence run before I answered, but she didn't jump in, so I said, "Tell me the rest of it, Lucy."

She sighed. "I wish my husband had your clairvoyance; I have to spell everything out to Dave. Yes, Mark there is something else, she's pregnant; six months gone. She and Ryan are trying to make a go of it, although he's like her, so I don't rate their chances."

I realised there were many things about Gemma that Lucy did not appreciate and she could say them, now she was not bound by family solidarity. "Thank you for letting me know. Give them my best wishes. And thanks for your consideration, Lucy. It's better hearing it from you than from her friend, that mouthy bitch April. She still works at my company."

"That's what I wanted to avoid Mark. You don't deserve that. I should probably go now."

I picked up her hesitation and jumped in. "Out with it all Lucy. Tell me the thing you promised her you would never tell me."

"Oh god Mark! She used to say you could read her mind sometimes. Now you are doing that to me." I laughed, but not for long. "She fell pregnant when she was with you, twice. Neither went beyond twelve weeks, so you didn't notice. I'm sorry." The words tumbled out of Lucy as if speed would make it hurt less.

That one caught me in the ribs. "Why...why...why didn't she tell me? I wound have..." I realised I was sobbing.

"I'm sorry Mark. It was a year after you finished before she told me. She thought if she got pregnant, she would grow up. Becoming a mother and a wife, would stop her being the needy twenty-something adolescent who was getting on your nerves."

I was dumb struck trying to process it all. After a long silence, Lucy said, "Are you ok Mark? I never meant to reopen old wounds. I should go before I say something else stupid."

"That's ok Lucy. Thank you for being a good friend to both of us. You don't need to rush off, but I suspect Dave is giving you funny looks by now."

Lucy laughed in relief. "He might if her were here Mark. Darts is his new winter passion as it is too dark for golf. At least that's what he tells me."

I sensed she had other things she needed to get off her chest. "Perhaps we should speak again Lucy. I'd hate my biggest memory of you to be as a bringer of bad news."

"We can't have that, Mark. I will phone again. You said biggest memory of me, are there others?" She was being playful now her unpleasant message was out of the way.

I was glad we were moving on from the purpose of her call. I felt ready to put a full stop to everything to do with Gemma, although I'd probably rake through it at least once more with the detachment of an archaeologist.

I thought for a moment. "There are one or two standout memories of you I smile about Lucy. Like the time the four of us went to Cambridge, and I took you out on the Cam."

She made a funny snorting laugh. "I remember you asked if me and Gemma enjoyed being punted. We'd had a bit to drink, so we started laughing. It sounded so rude."

I remembered her husband's sour expression. "Dave wasn't laughing."

"Don't Mark. After you dropped us home, he kept saying, 'Bloody College Boy. You know they are all queers, don't you?' I said you must be the exception from what Gemma told me the pair of you used to get up to. He pulled a sour face because I'd caught him looking at her often enough."

I smiled, imagining the scene. "Then I must thank Gemma for putting in a good word in for me. I'll stick it in a note with their wedding present. "Ten minutes earlier I was bereft at the thought of her wedding, now I was laughing about it. What had happened?

"She didn't need to put a good word in for you Mark, I knew it myself." I heard the tightness in Lucy's throat.

I remembered the occasion she was referring to. We never discussed it then. I felt my pulse quicken at the prospect of opening that package now. "You mean that drunken Christmas game of pass the balloon? I put my hands on your hips to steady you and you held my shoulders. Then we had to pass the balloon from neck to neck. We weren't very good, it took us ages."

"You weren't really trying, were you Mark?" She sounded breathless.

"And you didn't care Lucy." I heard her whimper. "You were wearing Channel Number 5 and little diamond earrings. That wrap over paisley dress clung in all the right places."

"Stop it, Mark. I have to go." She sounded excited and panicked at the same time.

"No, you don't Lucy. And you don't really want to, do you?"

Now she was just panicked. "I ought to hang up right now. I called to deliver bad news and I'm ending up having phone sex with you!"

I laughed. "We aren't yet. Unless you are further along than I am."

"Don't say that!! You are a terrible man Mark. I should never have called." She pretended to be shocked.

"But you are glad you did. Because you feel alive Lucy and so do I, and that's scary, isn't it?"

There was a long pause before she said softly, "Yes, it is Mark, it is." A noise in the background broke the flow of our conversation. "That's Dave's car on the drive. I have to go."

"He's saved you this time Lucy. Maybe you won't be so lucky when you phone me again tomorrow."

"I won't phone you again tomorrow." She sounded like a petulant schoolgirl refusing to do her homework, and she recognised it.

"Don't phone me at 9pm, Lucy."

"I won't, Mark. I'm going, his key is in the door."

I pictured the scene and wondered if Dave would notice anything amiss. Women are much more adept at hiding signs of arousal. I was sitting here with my joggers tenting like a big top.

#

She didn't phone me the next evening, but I got an invitation to

What's App

and we chit chatted for the next couple of days. We both knew it was only Dave's arrival that stopped us from saying more on the phone. Lucy felt more guilty about it than I did, so I was happy to go along with our text courtship until we spoke again. It lasted four days. If we'd been teenagers, we'd have exchanged an album full of dick and pussy pictures by then, but being the other side of forty we recognised a sense of decorum was required. Although I would not have held the odd fanny snap against her if she'd insisted on sending me one.

My thoughts betrayed me when we spoke next. "I've been looking forward to your call Lucy. You've been on my mind quite a lot."

"Stop that, Mark. I need to talk to you first. I want to talk about your ex-wife April, before you met Gemma."

That was not my preferred opening. "And there she goes with the bucket of ice water in my groin. Congratulations Lucy, you've killed it stone dead."

She laughed. "I'm sure he's not beyond revival. But I need to ask you something." She wanted a conversation about infidelity, in particular my ex-wife's. In retrospect, had I recognised any signs?

That caught me on the hop for a moment, then I put it all together. "Lucy, don't lie and say you are asking for a friend. Do you suspect Dave is having an affair?"

The flood gates opened, and all her suspicions and intuition came out. We spent an uncomfortable hour comparing the lies and evasions of our spouses before she came to her conclusion.

"I think I always knew Mark. I just wouldn't allow myself to believe it. It's quite a slap in the face. It dents your confidence." She sniffed.

"What gave you the confidence to face the issue now?" I hoped I knew the answer.

"Knowing there is a man who wants me. You do want me, don't you, Mark?" She had a moment's doubt.

"Off course I do, Lucy. You have no idea how much. I found the picture of you at that Christmas party after we spoke. I think I could give my teenage self a run for my money at the moment. I'm sitting here with my right hand in a bucket of ice water."

She broke into a fit of laughter. "Poor you. Girls don't do that sort of thing of course, but I could not look Sister Agatha from school in the eye right now."

"So, where is this going, Lucy?"

"Slowly Mark. I want us to get to know each other first."

"Great, I'll come up to meet you. I'll find somewhere discrete."

"No Mark. You'll end up jumping my bones in a Travelodge and I won't be able to think straight afterwards."

"Why do you make that sound like a bad thing? I thought you were a romantic?"

"That's got nothing to do with romance, and you know it. You'll have to keep the ice water treatment a while longer. Have you bought a dog or is that you whimpering? She laughed.

"Throw me a bone Lucy. There must be some compromise."

She thought for a while. "I suppose you could read to me. Like you did to Gemma when she was on that course."

I'm still amazed at the things women tell each other.

"Those bedtime stories were to keep Gemma on the straight and narrow during that week long residential course. I did residential courses when I studied for my MBA with the Open University. I know what happens. When you let people off the leash for a week, they act like it's Sodom and Gomorrah."

"Well, they worked with her. She could not wait to brag to me about them. Does Dave read to you? Do you want to know what Mark tells me in his stories? Cheeky cow knew they were making me—"

"Moist?" I interjected.

"We ladies say aroused," she said sniffly.

"Well, if that's your best offer Lucy, I suppose I could find something appropriate to read to you. I didn't tell Gemma everything." She made an involuntary ha. I never realised they were so competitive. "When would I—"

"Dave is at darts on Tuesday night. He does not come home before midnight. Even though the pub closes at eleven."

I pondered her implication. "In that case I'll call at 9 pm and I'll expect you to be in bed in your pyjamas. It's Friday now, so no cheating over the weekend. If I'm on rations, then so are you. Sister Agatha would expect it.

Lucy laughed. "It's a date Mark."

"I guess it is Lucy. Goodnight."

#

I searched my collection of

Bedtime Stories

for something I had not told Gemma, and would fit Lucy's circumstances. Anything to get beyond the hands-off stage would do. I found the perfect story. A tale of a deceived wife divorcing her husband and finding happiness with a man she would never have considered before.

1

I gave her the elevator pitch when I spoke to her on Tuesday evening.

"Oh my god, Mark. Did you write this for me over the weekend? My chest is so tight I can't breathe."

"Relax Lucy. Take deep breaths and let me imagine your chest going up and down. I wrote it a few years ago, but perhaps I was prescient? It's spicy and a tear jerker, so you will need two hankies."

"Eww Mark. But there is a happy ending, isn't there?" Lucy sounded anxious.

"Yes, there's a happy ending in the story. In real life, it's up to you."

"You are such a smooth talker. Gemma never warned me about that. I'll have to keep my wits about me."

It won't do you any good Lucy. I'm a practicing hypnotist. I'm swinging a pocket watch on a chain in front to the phone as we speak."

She laughed. "I could never have a conversation like this with Dave. Go ahead, do your worst Mark. You'll find me a harder nut to crack than Gemma."

"Challenge accepted Lucy. I'll get started."

Lucy made plenty of ah's at the meet cute between the main couple and a few laughs-out-loud at the jokes. `Gemma didn't tell me they were funny stories, too.' I wondered how she'd react to the couple doing it for the first time. I continued the tale.

"Thank you, Tom. This is so sweet of you. I am very happy to accept your offer." There were tears in her eyes. I put my hands over her shoulders and wiped them away. A weight seemed to lift from her with the decision to move on. She leaned into me and I felt the heat of her body. She felt my hardness against her bum. We said nothing, but her cheeks flushed. I pulled her hair up and kissed her neck. She sighed. "That's nice, Tom. I haven't felt nice for a while." I caressed her breasts through the tee shirt as she moaned. "Take it off, Tom." Her lacy white bra contrasted with her caramel skin. She turned around in my arms and pulled my head down. Her mouth was so warm. Our tongues clashed and our senses went into overdrive. The feel of her made my hands tingle, and I fumbled with the catch on her bra before just slipping the straps off her shoulders. Her dark nipples demanded attention and my lips moved from one to another as I tried to get a whole tit in my mouth.

Anoushka had to pull my hair to get my attention. "Fuck me, Tom. Put me on that bed and fuck me!" She pulled my top off and threw it on the mattress. "I don't want any stains on my new bed." We were naked moments later. Her body was lovely. A thin fuzz of black curls made a triangle above her pouty cunt lips. My fingers dipped into her wetness and circled her prominent clit. Anoushka moaned. "Fuck me, please Tom." Her desperation was a turn on, I threw her down and struggled out of my jeans. My cock was so hard it hurt. Anoushka pulled her legs back and opened like a flower.

"Oh God. You are so beautiful." I dipped my head to taste her, and she objected.

"Please don't. I haven't had a shower this morning." Her muskiness drifted up, inflaming me. I batted her hands away and put my nose in her pussy. "No Tom, don't smell me. Oh, God!" My tongue on her clitoris quelled further objections. I nipped her engorged lips between my teeth. "Jesus, you're trying to eat me." Anoushka shook with her impending orgasm and pulled the back of my neck, feeding her cunt into my mouth. She arched off the mattress as she came, anointing my face with her wetness, before slumping down panting and frightened by the strength of her passion.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" She nodded. I leaned forward to kiss her, and surprised her by inserting two fingers, searching for the root of her clitoris. My other hand flashed across her splayed lips.

"No Tom, it's too soon. I need to—" Anoushka's second orgasm was more violent than the first. External and internal stimulation short circuited her senses. Her legs snapped shut on my arm, like a wrestler about to spin an opponent. Her grip was powerful, and I had to promise no more tricks before she would let me go.

We spooned in silence afterwards, making sense of what had happened. I put my arm around her and she shrugged it off. On second thoughts she pulled it back and gave me a breast to hold. I gave her the lightest of kisses on the shoulder.

"You can stop that; my pussy is broken."

I complied, but twisted my hips to nestle my aching erection against her wet lips and pulsed gently.

"And you can stop doing Morse Code with your cock."

"But it's an emergency, love." I moved my hips backwards and forwards. After a minute, her resolve crumbled, and she backed against me.

"I'm sore, but you're making me want it again. You've turned me into a whore."

"A whore would not have your passion Anoushka." I turned her to face me and got between her legs. She was so wet my cock found her entrance unaided. Despite my earlier attention, she was tight, and I thought the heat of her would make me cum before I was in properly.

"You're stretching me, Tom. It hurts."

I took it as a statement of fact not a plea to stop, which I could not have done. We kissed for ages and she relaxed enough for me to slide in to the hilt. Our pubes meshed, and I began easy strokes. I would not last long. I need not have worried.

"Fuck me hard, Tom. Fuck me and fill me." Anoushka dug her heels into my arse to bring me to the gallop. I pounded her slight frame and came in several spurts. "I can feel your cum, Tom. It's everywhere. There's too much." She grasped for my sweatshirt to catch the spillage. I collapsed on her and we lay silently in a cocktail of our juices. Cum, sweat, tears, saliva; a forensic fiesta.

Eventually we stirred. "I need the loo, Tom." I eased out and Anoushka did that comical cross-legged walk only women can do.

I paused, listening to Lucy's heavy breathing and the rustling of bedclothes. Then a breathy, `Oh my god' and a deep sigh.

I was pleased my words had their desired effect. "Are you alright, Lucy? Were you playing with yourself? Did you cum?"

"Yes...er no. I'm not telling you that. Honestly, Mark!"

"Don't be embarrassed Lucy, I can see you. Quilt thrown open. Bare legs akimbo. Pyjamas around one ankle. Pussy wet and swollen."

The bedclothes rustled again. "No, no, you can't. You're guessing. It's just, it's just your wishful thinking." She stammered her denial.

"Well, if it's not having that effect, I'll just stop and wish you a good night."

"Don't you bloody dare, Mark. I have to know how it ends."

I told her the rest of the story and she was choked up.

"It's a lovely story Mark. Happy and sad and filthy at the same time. I'm—"

"Overcome?" I suggested.

"I'm overcome in every sense of the word, as you well know you dirty sod."

So, I'll book that Travelodge? Just give me a date Lucy."

Not yet Mark. I need my sensible head on to deal with you."

I sighed loudly. Lucy would not be a quick win.

"Could we be like that couple in the story, Mark? All of it?"

I sensed her moving on from complaining about what she did not want, towards taking what she did. "Wow Lucy, that's more than just spiting a cheating husband."

"I know. We need to talk properly Mark."

"So, no more stories, then?"

"I didn't say that. Not at all."

"So, you want your cake and eat it?"

"I didn't say it was fair Mark. I'm going to sleep now with a smile on my face. What are you going to do?"

"What do you think Lucy? You know I'm going to make you pay for this in the end?"

She laughed. "I do hope so Mark. Goodnight."

#

It carried on like this for another couple of weeks. Sensible chit chat during the day and the occasional monologue from her in the evenings as she took stock of her marriage and discovered more things she did not like about her husband. She always knew them and was only now admitting it to herself. I just made non-committal responses. She did not need my help to convict him. I sensed this phase could go on for a while unless I broke the gripe fest and moved us forward. I had a brainwave and sent her a small gift from Amazon. She phoned me when it arrived.