Chris and I fell into such a deep and well overdue sleep that we were both still under the covers together, clearly naked, our clothes discarded in carefree piles around us, when Melanie barged into the room the next morning. I was lying asleep on my back, Chris on his front, one arm draped casually over me. Anyone who saw us in that position would be under no illusion of what had happened the night before. Chris woke sharply at the sound of his sister’s untimely arrival, raising his head, registering her obvious shock and her steely expression. Clearly confused and seemingly also annoyed, she backed out of the room before either of them said anything to each other.
“Well that’s our cover blown,” he says softly, leaning his head on my brow, as I begin to stir.
“What’s that?” I’m still not fully awake, suspended somewhere between slumber and consciousness. I open my eyes, smile and stretch languidly, still drunk on the glorious memories of last night.
“Mellie has just walked in and seen us on the floor together. She’s not daft, she’s worked it out and based on the look on her face, she doesn’t look too pleased either.”
“Oh God, Chris. What have we done?” I sit up sharply covering my naked chest with the duvet, tucking it under my armpits like a Roman toga. “She’s going to hate me. I may just have lost one of my best friends. A very dear friend who I also happen to live and work with. This is bad, Chris, very bad.” I’m rubbing the sides of my face with my hands now, the realisation of the consequences of what the pair of us have done hitting me hard. “And I still need to deal with Jeremy. Shit. What time is it?” I say urgently.
“Ten past nine. Why?”
“Bollocks, he’ll been leaving in a few minutes to drive over here. That’s if he hasn’t left already. Pass me the phone.” I know I have to stall him. After last night, there’s no way I can let him come over now and hang out with us all, pretending to play happy families. The thought of him coming anywhere near me now, even in public, makes my skin crawl. I have absolutely no idea what to say, or how to do this, but I know I have to do it right now, this instant or else he’ll be on the doorstep and I simply can’t bear to see him.
Chris having now pulled on his boxers and yesterday’s t-shirt, passes me the handset from its cradle, kisses me on the top of my head. “I’ll give you some space… you’ll be right.”
He heads out of the room - I assume to placate his sister and test the water with the rest of his family. I notice how he’s shortened the word ‘alright’ to just right which I presume is a Kiwi thing. I’ve heard him say it to me more than once since we’ve known each other. “She’ll be right, he’ll be right, it’ll be right.” I find it, along with all of his other Kiwi colloquialisms, endearing.
I look down and frantically punch in Jeremy’s number before waiting for the line to connect. My stomach lurches as I hear him answer. He’s been nothing but pleasant, nice and courteous since we met and as far as he’s concerned we’re on the same page. So whatever I say next, I know it will come out of the blue for him.
“Hi Jeremy, it’s Victoria.”
“Oh hi, Victoria, darling. I wasn’t expecting that to be you. I’m literally walking out of the door. I’ll be there in about half an hour or so, assuming the traffic is not too bad. Do you need me to pick anything up on the way over?”
I close my eyes, hoping that by doing so it will make this easier. It doesn’t.
“No, that’s not why I’m calling. Here’s the thing Jeremy… and I know what I’m about to say will probably come as a complete shock for you, but this just isn’t working for me. I’m sorry but I don’t feel the same as you and I don’t think this is something I want anymore. I’m really, really sorry, Jeremy. It’s not you, it’s me.” I visibly wince. The cheesiest, worst break-up line ever, and I’ve just used it. An uncomfortable silence falls between us. After what seems like an eternity I ask into the handset, “Jeremy, are you still there? Say something please. I feel awful and I really am very very sorry.”
“I’m still here, Victoria, I’m just having difficulty digesting what I think I’m hearing. Stay there. I’m coming over now. Obviously, we need to talk.”
“No! No, don’t come over.” I sound desperate, my voice elevated. I’m wondering if he would be so keen to dash over here if he could see me now, still stark naked from last night’s antics. “I definitely don’t want you to come over today and there’s nothing to talk about. I really am sorry, but it won’t change anything. My mind is made up.”
Silence again. “What’s happened, Victoria? Are you alright? You’re not making any sense. Something must have happened. Why are you saying these things? Something’s not right.”
“Nothing’s happened, Jeremy.” I say, clearly lying through my back teeth. “I’ve just realised that I don’t feel the same way about you as you do for me and actually I’ve been feeling like this for quite some time now, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I just woke up this morning and realised I had to tell you now, to stop this going any further as it’s not fair on you. Not fair to keep pretending.” At least the last part was true.
“Well it didn’t feel like you were pretending all those times we’ve been together. All the fun we’ve had. All those times you’ve told me you loved me. What are you saying, Victoria? Were you lying then, or are you lying now?”
I don’t know how to respond to this. I don’t want to get into an argument about a minor technicality, the fact that I never actually told him that I loved him, but clearly all those times I said “me too” he’s obviously misconstrued to mean something deeper. I know that’s not his fault, it’s mine. I’ve completely led him on.
I reply feebly, “I don’t know, Jeremy, I just know that I don’t want to keep faking it. I can’t make myself feel something if it’s not there. And please believe me when I tell you that I am really sorry if you feel I’ve led you on. I have enjoyed your company immensely Jeremy. You really are a lovely guy, and you’ve treated me so well. We have had some great fun and I’ve made some lovely memories that I will cherish forever, but I just don’t see this working for me anymore and it’s not fair for me to keep stringing you along.”
“Please let me come and talk to you. Tell me what I can do to make it right.” He’s sounding desperate now. “You can’t expect me to take in what you’re saying just over the phone. You sound like you’re calling the pizza shop to cancel an order. I thought we had something special. Meeting you and being with you these past few months have been some of the best of my life. Please don’t go throwing all of that away on a snap decision. You owe me the opportunity to make things right. If you’re not happy, tell me what I need to do to make you happy. I don’t want to lose you, Victoria.”
I take a big breath in. “I understand, Jeremy. I really do, but I really am sorry. I’m calling you now not because I just don’t want you to come over today, but because I don’t want you to come over ever. My mind is made up. I’m following my heart and I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
My voice is beginning to crack. I need to finish this quickly before I lose my strength. I know this is something I have to do but I hate myself for putting him in this position. “I’m going to go now. I really am sorry. I know you will make someone else very happy someday, you really are a lovely man and I am pleased we met and I have enjoyed meeting you and your family but my heart wants something I know you can’t give me and I’m calling it a day before we let things get any more serious.”
“Goodbye, Jeremy,” I say, attempting to sound strong and unwavering. I need him to understand that this is not a decision I’m going to go back on. I know I’m not going to change my mind. He has to know there is no hope.
“Well if you’re sure… it sounds like there isn’t anything more I can say or do to change your mind.”
“No, no there isn’t.”
“Well in that case, I suppose this is it then. I can’t quite believe I’m about to say this… but goodbye, Victoria. I really did love you, you know.” His voice cracks as he says his final goodbye before cutting the line. I noticed that he’s already referring to his love for me in the past tense and I feel wretched.
Who does that to someone else? I’m a horrible human being. I thought by breaking it off with Jeremy, knowing it was the right thing to do, it would make me feel better. It would allow me to justify what’s already happened with Chris these past two days, but the fact is I shouldn’t have let things get this far, with either of them. I should have been honest with Jeremy long before muddying the waters with Chris. To have ended things with Jeremy the way I have is despicable and to have done it over the phone and out of the blue. He’s been so charming and nice and harmless really, that until now, there never seemed the urgency to address the situation. But now, due to the physical connection I’ve already shared with Chris, I’ve done exactly what I vowed I wouldn’t. I’ve blindsided him.
It’s not as if we’ve had lots of rows or disagreements and were building up to a break-up. Other than snapping at him yesterday at the cinema, I’ve given him no indication that I was anything but happy. I suppose that’s because I wasn’t that unhappy either, I think I was just numb. Not just with him, but with Steve as well. I’ve been a sleepwalking girlfriend, completely numb to my own emotions, I suspect to protect myself, but in doing so, I’ve also become numb to other people’s emotions too.
In this entire episode I’d forgotten one vital component. This whole time I’d been with Jeremy, I’d only been thinking about myself, and not what he needed, or what the impact of my inaction was making him feel. I’d thought by simply allowing him into my life (and my body), even if I was a passive passenger, that that would have been sufficient. Only now as I’ve had to confront the situation, has it occurred to me what a cruel thing it is I’ve done.
Could it be that, even though I don’t ever want to think again about those dark moments from deep in my past, when men have taken advantage of me for their own physical gratification and at a time when I was either too young or unable to defend myself or to understand the confusion of emotions and sensations, was it then that I locked my heart away, never to be touched again? I know I desperately want to find that special someone, but each time I think I have, my body and my emotions remain detached. As if by doing so, I’m protecting myself in some way. I realise I can’t maintain the disconnect between my emotions and my physical body and expect to have a full relationship.
I’m on the verge of yet another relationship, with another man who is pursuing me, passionately and purposefully, but I know that if Chris and I are going to have any chance of being more than a quick fling I’m going to have to give myself fully. Only if I’m prepared to risk everything, to risk him hurting me, do I believe he can remove the leaden veil that surrounds my heart.
I’ve never felt so scared and so unsure in all my life but there is something different about Chris. There’s no doubting our physical connection. He’s all bravado and masculinity on the outside, which I find immensely attractive, but I think I’ve had a very small glimpse into what I believe is a tender heart. You don’t come through life with a facial abnormality without knowing pain on some level. He is the first person who I think has the potential to help me find myself. Is Chris the one that will finally sweep me away? Is he the one to heal me?
Last night when Chris and I were making love and he entered me, it was the first time I’ve been intimate with a man and actually wanted to give myself to him. Somehow, he lit a spark. A lightbulb went on inside me and I’ve never been so turned on in my entire life. Being with him feels authentic and different. So perhaps this could be the beginning of something deeper. I really hope so. However, that still doesn’t excuse what I’ve just done to Jeremy. I owed him a face to face conversation at least, but I just couldn’t do it. I chickened out.
“You OK?” Chris has returned and kneels down next to me, passing me a cup of tea. I turn towards him and wrap my arms around him, burying my head in his shoulder as I burst into tears.
He attempts to soothe me as you would a baby by gently rubbing my back, as he slowly rocks me in his arms. “Shh, shh, it’ll be right. I promise.”
“But how will it?” I ask through my sobs. Unbeknown to him, I’m not referring to the phone call with Jeremy just now, or the fear of losing my friendship with Mel or the other members of his family but the much deeper realisation of how broken I am and my real fear that he will end up being just another mistake. Just another man who will hurt me. Another broken relationship I’ll look back on in a few months or even years and realise that once again I will have allowed myself to be carried along as a passenger in my own love life. Desperately trying to find the path to the ultimate happy ending but without any map or compass on how to get there.
He attempts to reassure me, “I’ve just spoken to Mellie and Michelle in the kitchen and placated them. In fact, everyone here now knows, including Mum, and I’ve explained that this is not a one-time thing and that we’re really into each other and everyone’s really cool about it. In fact, not surprisingly, Mich seems very pleased. She shared with the others that she saw sparks flying at the barbecue that first weekend and is more than happy that we’re finally together. For the record, it turns out no one really liked Jeremy. They all thought he was a bit of a wet dishcloth too,” he sniggers. “I’m not sure Mum really understands what we were all talking about. All she could say was, ‘Vicky is such a lovely girl, isn’t she’ which of course you are,” he says peeling me away from his shoulder and kissing me, his lips brushing mine ever so lightly. I allow him to believe his explanation is the reason for my tears.
“So, come on… time to get up and at ‘em. You need to hit the shower, get some brekkie down ya and then we’ve got a picnic to get to. The sun is out, it’s going to be a gorgeous day, so let’s just relax and enjoy the time we have together today. I’ll come back up to Wootton Bassett with you and Mellie tonight, and then tomorrow, or even the day after that…we can work out what the fuck all this means and what the hell we’re going to do. So, come on. Dry your eyes and take your sexy arse off to the shower. You’ll feel better, I promise.”
“You’re making a lot of promises to me already, Chris. I hope you can follow through with them all.” He has absolutely no idea how vulnerable I feel.
“Absolutely,” he says with certainty, “and I also promise that if you show me your beautiful smile, I may just buy you an ice-cream later.”
Finally, I break into a smile and take the cup of tea from him. He’s made me feel better. We drink our tea together and then I take my ‘sexy arse’ off to get showered, as he gives me a gentle slap on the bum in encouragement.
***
It’s a boiling hot day in the capital. The temperature is forecast to top 30 degrees so our plan is to pack up a picnic, throw on our swimming togs (as the Kiwis refer to swimsuits) and spend the day hanging out at the open-air pool at Tooting Bec Lido. With no air-conditioning in Michelle’s flat, as the temperature begins to rise, the stifling and sticky air makes it impossible to stay indoors, so we pack our gear quickly and head out for the day.
On the walk to the tube I catch up to Mel, falling in step beside her.
“Hey,” I say lightly, not wanting to launch into some big monologue or deep heart to heart. I just want to check-in and test the water. “Are we cool?” She’s not been overtly hostile towards me or Chris this morning, just detached.
“Hey,” she replies, giving nothing away. “Did you have a good time last night?” I detect a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Yeah, the party was great fun, wasn’t it?”
“Humm, that wasn’t the part of the evening I was referring to,” she says dryly.
“Yes, I kinda guessed that.”
I really need her to be cool with the whole situation. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like at work tomorrow. When our manager, Mark, is not there, there’s only the two of us in the small satellite office and I can’t imagine how we could continue to live and work together if she hates me.
“Look Mel, I don’t really know what to say. I didn’t plan this. It just sort of happened.”
“Well that’s awfully convenient, isn’t it?” She still sounds spiky. “Look, I’m not mad at you, Vicky,” her tone softening slightly. “If anything, I’m disappointed with you both. I just think that this is all horribly complicated. Until a few hours ago, you had another boyfriend. Chris is only here for a few more weeks, someone is going to get hurt and muggins here is going to be the one left picking up the pieces.”
Now I understand. She’s worried about what will happen if things don’t work out. Deep down I share her same fears but I’m trying very hard not to think past today, never mind what will happen in a few weeks’ time when Chris is scheduled to leave.
“Everything you’ve said is true, and I don’t have any defence, Mel other than the fact that the very short time I’ve spent with your brother feels very different to anyone else I’ve ever dated, so I suppose you’re just going to have to trust us to work out all the other complications.”
“I’m just looking out for you. I hope he isn’t playing you. He can be such a flirt.”
An icy cold fear floods my veins in response to her words and I visibly shiver. Could he be playing me? For all his soft loving words, could I just be another notch on his bedpost? Have I just made a terrible mistake? She has no idea how much I too hope Chris’s intentions are pure.
“But he’s told me that he’s sincere, so I have to believe him - and you.” She turns and eyeballs me. “I hope that your intentions are also sincere, Victoria. I consider you family, but he’s my blood. You get that, don’t you?” I sense she’s giving me a warning. If I ever cause him pain, I know whose side she’ll be on. “You both seemed to have jumped in with both feet without thinking.”
I link my arm through hers as we continue to walk in step. “I understand, Mel, honestly I do. And I can’t deny that this hasn’t been some long drawn out courtship before we’ve ended up in bed together. But honestly Mel, I think your brother is fab. He’s swept me off my feet and it feels amazing. I’m so happy… please be happy for me.”
“What other choice do I have?” She pats my hand, reassuring me. “You’re my friend and I love you. He’s my cheeky younger brother and I love him too. Personally, I would never have put you two together, but they say opposites attract, so who am I to judge?” She turns to me and smiles. It’s the closest I’m going to get to an endorsement and I’m content. “Speak of the devil,” she says as Chris comes to link arms with her on her other side.
“Hey, sis. What are you two girls yakking about?”
“Oh, this and that,” she says nonchalantly. “I know your ego would love me to say that we were talking about you, but there are so many more important things to talk about than boys, you know.”
“Yeah, right. That’s all you girls ever talk about,” he laughs cheekily.
“Yeah, when we were ten years old, maybe.”
He’s clearly not buying his sister’s explanation, but also isn’t bothered. His easy demeanour remains unflappable. “Come on let’s catch everyone else up.” He quickens the pace, forcing the three of us to break into a slow jog to catch up with Michelle, David and Lynne who are all laden with picnic gear.
Once on Tooting Common, we pick a spot, spread out our picnic rugs, strip down to our togs, lie back and enjoy the sunshine. Clearly Michelle and David are deeply in love. He’s a very quiet guy who doesn’t say a lot. Highly intelligent, he’s more comfortable talking to Michelle than openly with the whole group, so as they chatter away together, the rest of us talk easily amongst ourselves.
Being openly affectionate with Chris feels completely different than when Jeremy wanted to hold my hand or kiss me in public. I would do anything to avoid a PDA with Jeremy, whereas the more affection Chris shows me, the more comfortable and relaxed I feel. He makes sure I’m never more than an arm’s length away and we lie snuggled together on one of the rugs, both on our backs, faces looking up to the sun, my head lying on his chest as we play with each other’s fingers whilst chatting away to his Mum and Mel.
As the temperature continues to rise, Chris and I head over to the pool to cool off, leaving the others to finish off the food. It’s no surprise to discover he’s a strong swimmer and he knocks out a few confident lengths of front crawl as I attempt a graceful swan-like breaststroke behind him. We meet again in the shallow end, holding hands under the water as he turns towards me and beams.
“I’m so happy, Vicky. Are you? Although I can’t quite believe how much has changed in the past 48 hours.”
“Yes, I am,” I gently touch his face with the back of my fingers, exactly how I wanted to the very first night when I watched him sleeping peacefully on our sofa. “Although, like you, my brain is still adjusting. A lot of shit has gone down this weekend. Three days ago you were still in Greece. I was with Jeremy, and you were just Michelle and Mel’s little brother visiting to ‘do Europe’ over the summer. Now look at us. I suppose on one level you’ve succeeded in doing Europe,” I snigger.
I don’t want to break the spell, but my mind wants to ask all the unanswered questions. How is this going to work when we get back to Wootton Bassett? Does Mel and I’s little cosy twosome automatically become some weird cohabiting threesome? How difficult would that be for her? One day her brother is sleeping on the sofa, the next he’s sharing her house-mate’s bed. Does he want to carry on travelling in the time he has left before returning to his homeland, which I assume he will and how do I feel about that? Surely if my time with him is limited I want him to spend as much of it with me or does he want to charge ahead full steam into a full-on relationship and effectively set up home together? Which seems like a heck of a commitment after only one weekend of shared passion. I’ve also got a full-time job to consider, so how can I expect him to sit around all day like a good little househusband waiting for me to come in from work. I sense that would drive him crazy, like a caged animal who would eventually go mad.
“I am worried though, Chris. You have to admit that both the speed at which we’ve got together and the circumstances that surround us are anything but perfect. What chance do we have of making this work? Perhaps we would be better to nip things in the bud before we get in any deeper?”
“But, that’s where you’re wrong, Vicky, when has anything worthwhile ever been easy?” He floats around in the water so that he’s in front of me now. My back against the side of the pool as he straddles the space in front of my body, arms locked onto the lip of the pool on either side of me caging me in. “I’m a man who goes after what he wants, and I don’t care about how complicated or difficult this is going to be, I know what I want and it’s you… even if I wanted to I’m already in too deep to ever consider backing out now,” and as if to prove his point, he leans forward and kisses me passionately.
The multitude of questions in my head are still unanswered, but I consciously block them out as I lose myself in the moment. I’ve never felt so desired in all my life and just as I did last night and the night before I surrender to his touch, to his desire, to his masculine power and vow to stay present in the moment, worrying about how all the other stuff will work itself out later. We only stop when a lifeguard blows his whistle and reminds us of their low tolerance to public displays of affection, making us remember where we are.
***
We’re standing naked, facing each other as the moonlight streams through the window highlighting Chris’s chiselled cheekbones and strong powerful shoulders. It’s a couple of days since we hung out at the lido. As he suggested, that evening he came back with us, and Mel and I returned to work the next day while he hung out at home and we haven’t talked about plans much further ahead than this coming weekend. We’re definitely still living in the moment, and so far, the three of us have casually hung out each evening which has been much easier than I’d expected. I think Melanie is enjoying having her brother around, even if I’m the main reason he’s staying in Wootton Bassett. So far, she appears to be cool with it.
Being nude is not something I’ve ever really been comfortable with. Not that I think there is anything particularly wrong with my body, but it’s just not something I’ve ever been happy with, even now as a young woman. From as early as I can remember, I’ve never wandered round, even in the privacy of my own bedroom, butt naked. As soon as I would have dried off from the shower or bath I would put my knickers on, followed immediately by my bra, or as a child, a vest. It just never felt right to be without underwear. I suppose unconsciously it was another way of attempting to protect myself.
So standing here in front of him in the luminescent moonlight, totally exposed, feels embarrassing and uncomfortably vulnerable. My urge is to grab the towel once again to cover my body, or at least cover myself as best I can with my hands, but somehow his gaze and the soft movement of his fingers stroking the outsides of my arms, holds me still and I allow myself to trust him in this moment.
I’ve just stepped out of the shower and rather than dive under the covers as I would do normally, Chris already naked, walked purposefully towards me until he was stood directly in front of me. Very slowly and in revered silence he peeled the towel from my body, allowing it to drop to the floor behind me. He grips my shoulders holding me at arm’s length as he looks directly into my eyes saying softly, “God, Vicky, you are so beautiful.”
“Really?” I reply, shrugging his comment away and dropping my eyes to the floor. “I don’t think I am.”
Tall and lanky as a teenager, I never developed a decent ‘rack’ which didn’t help my already low body confidence. In addition to my inept social development around boys as a teenager, this only added to my continued falling self-confidence. My lack of a bust is something that has bothered me all my life. No amount of ‘but you’re fine as you are’ or ‘trust me big boobs are just a hassle’ from friends or family actually did anything to change the feelings of inadequacy that I have about my own body.
I was a classic late developer, emotionally as well as physically. When all the other girls in class were wearing bras, getting their period and talking about boyfriends, I was still wearing vests. I was well into my late teens before I had my first menstruation or had developed enough up top to warrant the support of even a training bra. I did however develop curves in the lower part of my body, so now I’m the shape of a classic English Pear. Small rounded breasts, a small waist that flairs out to a full bottom and heavy thighs. I feel anything but beautiful.
His body however is gorgeous. He’s obviously grown up living an active and outdoor lifestyle. A few inches taller than I, strong muscular shoulders lead down to a smooth and tanned chest. He doesn’t have a harsh overly developed six-pack like someone who spends half their life in the gym chained to a machine, rather a toned ironing-board flat stomach with just the right amount of definition, which is clearly reflective of the outdoor sports he’s obviously participated in all his life. A slim line of soft dark hair leads tantalisingly down from his navel over his flat stomach to slim hips, strong muscular legs and a fabulously squeezable pert behind. I try not to look at his magnificent cock which gives away his obvious desire.
From his deep tan, topped up by his recent trip to Greece, it’s clear Chris has spent most of his life living in shorts. He has a deeply tanned chest, arms, shoulders, legs and a contrasting lilywhite bottom. This is the first time I’ve properly seen his body in all its glory even though I’ve felt parts of it under the covers over the past few days and in shorts and t-shirt at the lido, but this is the first time I’ve studied him fully naked and I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a handsome specimen of a man. My initial thoughts of liking him to a Greek God at our first meeting are justifiably confirmed. I’m in awe of his strong and beautiful masculine body, which only heightens the feelings of deficiency for my own female form as I stand in front of him fully naked and completely exposed.
Very slowly he turns me around to face away from him. Moving my still damp hair away from my neck with his right hand, he kisses me lightly on my left shoulder. Using the tip of his tongue he gently traces the curve of my shoulder up into the nape of my neck. I breathe in the contrasting sensations, the hotness of his breath and the wetness of his tongue on my skin as he kisses me again just below my left ear.
“Oh, yes you are,” he whispers.
I feel myself begin to soften ever so slightly, the tension I was unconsciously holding in my shoulders draining away as they drop slightly. Gradually and calmly I sense Chris kneel quietly on the floor behind me, his hands moving slowly down the front of my body, lightly tracing my curves with his fingers, softly cupping my breasts and momentarily stroking my nipples, causing me to inhale sharply, filling my lungs with air. His touch sends a fire bolt of desire down my body to between my legs. His fingers continue to float down over my flat belly before coming to rest on the outsides of my curvaceous thighs.
He gently kisses, first my ample right bum cheek, then my left, before slowly turning me around so once again we are facing each other. He reaches his hands up behind me, tracing the outline of my shoulder blades, down my spine before they rest once again on my hips. It’s as if he’s making a map of my body wanting to feel every curve, every indentation. Our eyes lock and we stay there, seemingly frozen in time looking at each other. The purity of the moment wrapping around us like a truthful cloak. As he kneels in front of me and we hold each other’s gaze, my mind flashes back to the image of the female heroine atop the red table during the ballet at Hampton Court, being revered by her male ensemble.
I’ve never experienced anything like this before. Chris’s gentle touch and slow hand is showing me a new appreciation for my own body, for my own sexuality. His obvious appreciation for my womanliness, not as a tool for his own sexual gratification or simply as an object for men to lust after, as I’ve always previously believed it to be, is making me feel both desired and respected, almost worshipped, all at the same time. It’s as if he wants to show me that my body is something to be cherished, to be celebrated, to be touched and to be enjoyed. Is this the feeling I’ve been waiting for? Is Chris about to find the key to unlock that deepest part of me? I’m terrified of letting him lead me in this way, and at the same time nervously excited.
He leans forward. His hands firmly grasping my bum as he slides the tip of his tongue between my legs, exploring my most sensual place. His tongue licking and teasing me, I inhale sharply, the breath catching in my throat as I feel my legs give way from underneath me. In one swift movement he stands up and catches me securely as I lose my balance. Falling backwards he holds me in his arms before lifting me up and carrying me over to the bed. He lays me gently down on top of the covers, before coming to lie next to me.
“Oh, yes you are, Vicky,” he says again.
Lying beside me on the bed, he gently traces the side of my face with his fingers, round the curve of my shoulders, the curve of my breast, down the side of my body, over my hip and down my leg, before retracing his route back up my leg to the special place between my thighs. As his fingers slide easily inside me, my back arches involuntarily as my arms fall above my head in an act of complete submission, my desire increasing as his fingers continue to penetrate and stimulate the deepest part of me.
“Oh God, I want you in me,” I say, my voice barely a whisper, aching for him to fill the void deep within.
“All in good time, Vicky, all in good time,” he replies leaning in to kiss me passionately, his fingers still exploring every part of me. I feel my guard lowering. Once again, I’ve opened myself physically and I know I’m putting my trust into a man. Despite Chris’s touch, his slow hand and gentle movements, he does not appear to want to use me for his own physical gratification. This feels different. I sense his only intention is to give me pleasure, to do what I need and because of that, I continue to trust him, to allow him to lead me.
For hours he explores my body, until there is not one crevice he has not touched, caressed or turned on. I have completely surrendered to his touch, suspended in time, fully present in the moment. My skin feels electric, every nerve tingling as the wanton longing deep within me is almost unbearable, but Chris holds back still, taking me higher and higher, to places I’ve never been. When he eventually slides into me, it’s impossible to feel where I end and he begins. Our energies seemingly truly intertwined, blurred around the edges and merged as one.
As we continue to move in unison, I feel a rising swirl building up through my torso, the white heat between my legs, climbing higher and higher, before it explodes into a massive orgasm. Waves tumbling down, my body rising and falling as the pleasure rolls on and on. At the same time Chris’s body tenses as he too reaches his climax.
Lying now in each other’s arms, it takes a few long moments for me to catch my breath and for my legs to stop quivering. I turn to look at Chris’s face, his head resting on his hand as he lies on his side looking at me, a smile beaming from ear to ear. He reaches forward to kiss my forehead as he waits for me to speak.
“Oh-my-God… thank you,” is all I can say. “I have never experienced anything like that Christ-o-pher,” annunciating his name in full. “Where on earth did you learn to make love like that?”
“It has nothing to do with learning anything, Vicky. It’s all you. It’s what you do to me. You truly are beautiful. Inside and out.” He strokes my cheek tenderly before continuing, “You just don’t see what I see. You have absolutely no idea, do you?”
The scepticism that is still deeply ingrained from my past experiences is still clouding my judgement. I can’t work out if he’s being truly sincere, or if this is just an amazing line he’s throwing me. Mel’s comment about him ‘playing me’ and ‘being such a flirt’ quietly ringing in my ears. Surely, he can’t be this good, or this can’t be this good. I don’t deserve this, I know I’m not good enough.
My mind is racing, unable to process or analyse what he’s saying, or how I’m feeling, my thoughts attempting to catch up with reality. It seems impossible for me to comprehend that I could be so desirable, or that someone can be this sincere.
He drapes his arm lightly over my waist as he kisses me again. “Now, Miss Victoria, I think you need to get some sleep. One of us has to get up early for work tomorrow, and that…” alluding to the passion we’ve just shared as his fingers continue to trace the outline of my face and cheekbones, “…is just the beginning. There’s lots more where that came from.”
Completely spent from all our lovemaking, we climb under the covers and I turn onto my side as Chris spoons into me, his soft warm breath on my neck, his arm draped loosely over my body as he nuzzles his face into my hair. For once, I don’t reach for my PJs; instead I feel comfortable in my nakedness, falling asleep next to him, skin to skin.
We wake at sunrise as the first shafts of the sun’s rays throw early morning light up against the far bedroom wall. I stir first, turning to gaze at Chris as he lies peacefully, still asleep. I run my hand through his hair and down his smooth chest feeling the definition in his pecs and the hard tone of his flat stomach.
I’ve never felt an attraction like this. I’m feeling a complex mix of emotions which both scares and excites me equally. I can’t name these feelings, but whatever they’re called, they feel bigger than me, like something uncontrollable has taken over my body and my mind. I can’t decide whether he has woken that something that was lying dormant within me, found the way to unlock my heart, or whether opening up to Chris has allowed something else to take over. An external force, an uncontrollable beast that has entered my body and taken possession of my mind. Whatever it is, it feels dangerous, uncontrollable, but at the same time I’ve also never felt so alive. Suddenly the world seems brighter, louder and more vibrant.
Chris’s eyes flutter as he begins to bridge the void between sleep and consciousness. His eyes open slowly, focusing on my face and he smiles instinctively. Without saying a word, he leans forward, kisses me fully on the lips and then pulls me up onto his stomach as he rolls onto his back. Running his hands gently up and down my spine, through my hair, stroking my skin with his fingertips, he asks,
“Good morning, Vic-to-ria. Now, has anyone ever shown you how to really give pleasure to a man?”
“No,” I reply hesitantly, almost embarrassed by my obvious inexperience, “but I want you to teach me,” I say looking directly into his eyes as I think back again to Sylvie Guillem and how she commanded the men in the ensemble of the Boléro. Can Chris show me not only how to tap into my own deepest sexual desires, but how to find those same powers that lie buried beneath the surface in him?
And with that I become his student once again, learning this time how to explore a man’s body, his body. He teaches me how to find his pleasure spots, how hard or fast, soft or slow I need to move my body in order to increase his intensity. How to use my hands, my fingers, my mouth, my tongue, even my long hair to tease, stroke and caress him and his manhood, until he can hold back no more. I feel an intense sense of gratification as eventually his body stiffens and shakes as his orgasm takes hold, saying my name passionately as he comes.
“Oh God, Vicky,” he shouts loudly as he achieves his final release.
Afterwards, we settle in for an early morning cuddle. He brushes my hair in long soothing strokes, as I continue to outline the shape of his smooth chest with my fingers.
“Now THAT is the best way to start any day,” he says in his broad New Zealand accent, so that the ‘a’ in ‘that’ sounds more that ‘thit’, making me smile. I lean forward and give him a peck on the lips.
“My pleasure… anytime,” the confidence of my words nowhere near matching how I actually feel.
This is new territory for me. Never would I have said anything like that before last night, but then again never have I allowed anyone to get this close to me before, or for me to have been that forward with a man before.
Everything with Chris feels like uncharted new territory and I also know I’m feeling emotions for Chris that I’ve never felt with anyone else. I only hope his intentions are sincere, that the truth I saw in his eyes that first night is genuine and the fear that whipped through me when Mel shared her opinion with me only a few days ago is not true, otherwise she will be left picking up the pieces in a couple of months’ time.
Even in this short period of time, I too know I’ve fallen so deep that I can’t back out now, even if it was or is the right thing to do.