Confessions

by Amber Stephens

  Cian was wearing a pirate hat, for some reason, and carried her power adaptor.

  ‘Didn’t you already give that to me?’ she asked, puzzled.

  ‘I’m going to give it to you now,’ he replied and climbed up on to the bed.

  He reached over and plugged the power adaptor into a wall socket. Then she realised it was plugged into something. A long black something that looked a little like her BlackBerry, but also a lot like a vibrator. Cian turned a switch and the machine buzzed. Shelley tried to close her legs but found she couldn’t.

  ‘Hey look, Cian,’ she said. ‘I like you a lot, but I’m not sure I’m ready for this.’

  ‘Oh you’re ready,’ he said moving the thrumming device down between her legs. ‘You’re so ready I can smell it a mile off. We all can.’

  She lay back and waited for the vibrator to enter her. But nothing happened.

  She looked up, she was alone, apart from the gently snoring Rose in the next bed. Shelley curled up into a foetal position. A dream analyst wouldn’t have too much trouble with me, she thought.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Shelley was grumpy the next day, and worked her aggression out by running around the grounds just inside the perimeter wall. She staggered back and showered as the others were assembling for breakfast, and when she finally walked into the dining room only Will was still there. She had no choice but to go and sit next to him. He was eating a plate full of fruit and looked like he’d rather swap with Shelley, who was having two rounds of toast and a blueberry muffin.

  ‘Watching the weight,’ he said, patting his stomach. Shelley smiled and took a bite of moist muffin.

  ‘You wanted to talk to me the other day?’ she said, munching.

  Will frowned. ‘Yes, I … I’m not happy here, Shelley. I miss my wife.’

  Shelley nodded in sympathy, wishing she had a wife to miss. Or a husband, preferably.

  ‘I don’t get on with the others so well. I’m not sure this sort of thing is for me.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ Shelley said absently, thinking about sitting on the sun-trap terrace of her sweet little flat in London and wishing she could be back in The Crown, sharing a bottle of Pinot Grigio with Briony. Hell, she even missed Freya a bit.

  ‘Do you?’ Will said. Shelley looked up and was surprised to find him staring intently back at her.

  ‘Of course,’ she said. Will looked to be about to say something else when Shelley noticed the clock on the wall. ‘Shit, we’re supposed to be in the Mountain Room.’

  They gulped down their tea and rushed off. Verity frowned at them as they came in and they apologised profusely for being late. Cian didn’t seem bothered. He was playing a painful-looking hand-slapping game with Larry. If he was nervous about having to give his confessional, there was no sign of it.

  ‘Cian? Cian?’ Verity said.

  ‘Eh? Oh right yeah, miles away. Okay, here we go then.’ He stood and stepped into the centre of the circle, turning to look at each member of his rapt audience as he began to speak.

  So, a lot of what I’m going to tell you might sound like bragging and this is part of my problem. Every time I try to talk to someone about my … issues with sex, it seems like I’m just showing off. My mates look at me in disbelief when I tell them I want to stop with the endless knobbing. ‘I wish I had your problems, mate,’ they say. ‘You play to packed houses night after night only to go home afterwards to your flash pad in Primrose Hill with an endless parade of short-skirted teenagers!’ It seems … what’s the word, churlish? It seems churlish to complain when most men would sell their first-born for what I’ve got.

  And I haven’t got any female friends I can talk to, either. I’ve shagged them all and they either won’t talk to me afterwards or else they stalk me and I have to get security on to them. The sort of girls I pick up after my gigs aren’t the talking type if you know what I mean. I tried talking to some of them, you know, afterwards, about wanting to stop shagging so much, but no girl likes to think she’s put you off sex.

  I guess that’s it. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. People expect me to want to fuck them, so I do. I’m no different to anyone else really, I want to be loved, and needed. And sex is what people love me for; it’s what they need me for. Oh, and the music as well, I suppose, but it doesn’t seem to me that that’s what I’m really good at. Just the sex. I know I can give good sex.

  Sorry for this rambling, I’d better go back to the beginning.

  I guess it started with the au pair. Lena. She was from Slovenia, or Hungary, or some other place in Eastern Europe where the girls have fantastic tits. My father was, is, rich and we lived in a massive house in Hampstead. Lena had her own loft conversion, with great views out over London, but I didn’t bother looking out the window too much when I was up there.

  I didn’t have too many friends and certainly no girlfriends, my spare time was spent either in the gym in the basement, or rehearsing with the band I was in then – Adverse Camber – Goth sort of thing to start with, but we got over that after a while. My father was the usual. Hardly ever around, never paying much attention to me, except to give me a disapproving look when I told him how the music was coming along. He wanted me to be a doctor I think, or something in the City. His second wife and I never got on too well, though I don’t want to pretend she was some archetypal evil stepmother. She was better than my real mother, who’s an alcoholic and lives in Brighton.

  I’d noticed before how stunning Lena was of course, I was a teenager and sex was pretty much all I thought about, just like now really. One day I came into the kitchen where she was scrubbing the floor, facing away from me. She was wearing a tiny skirt and I could see the little white triangle of her panties, tight against her mound. She swayed back and forth as she scrubbed and I stood and watched for ages, my cock rock-hard in my pants.

  Then suddenly she turned and winked at me. She’d known I’d been standing there watching. She’d been giving me a show. I stammered an excuse and ran up to my room where I masturbated furiously for an hour or so. The image of her swaying arse and panties went straight to number one in the wank bank.

  On my sixteenth birthday she told me at breakfast she had a present for me and she wanted me to come up to her loft after school. I didn’t think anything of it, like I said, we were rich and there didn’t seem much chance she was going to give me something I didn’t already have. How wrong I was.

  My stepmother used to get home around four, and I tended to get in a half-hour earlier than her; for that half hour Lena and I would be the only people in the house. When I got home from school, I wandered up to her room and knocked.

  ‘Come in,’ she said, softly. I walked in and stopped dead. She was standing before the windows, wearing a thin dress. I could see just about everything, certainly enough to know she wasn’t wearing underwear.

  She didn’t mess about. ‘Your uniform is dirty; I will need to clean it tonight.’

  I looked down, it didn’t look too bad, and anyway, I had spares. What was she on about?

  ‘Take it off,’ she whispered.

  I knew what was happening, but it was like looking down from above, like I was hypnotised. I did what she asked.

  ‘And the pants,’ she said, staring at my crotch. Now, again it’ll seem like bragging, but when I took my pants down, her eyes widened. I’m not lacking down there, as any number of ladies have been happy to tell the gossip mags for a few quid. I had a good body even back then; me and the mates were always down the gym.

  She walked over to me and dropped to her knees, still staring at my cock, standing proud and hard as a ship’s cannon and just as likely to go off in her face if she so much as touched it.

  She looked up at me and I stared lustfully at those perfect pale globes down the top of her dress. She had the smoothest skin I’ve ever known and perfect tits with little rose-bud nipples.

  ‘Happy birthday, my big boy,’ she said.

  I nearly fainted as she took m
y cock in her soft, warm mouth, or as much of it as she could manage, anyway. I think the shock of realisation delayed my coming for a little while but even so it was just a few seconds before I shot my load against the back of her throat. She gagged slightly but swallowed the lot and kept on mouthing me gently until the spasms had died away.

  Then she stood up, turned me around, slapped me on the arse and told me to go back to my room and get dressed.

  ‘See you tomorrow,’ she said as I left, stark-bollock naked. A few minutes later, still in shock, smile as wide as a cut throat, I heard the door slam downstairs as my stepmother arrived home. Lena even cleaned the uniform.

  I made up my mind to walk a bit faster on my way home from school the next day. She was ready for me again. This time she was wearing a little red outfit, with a short skirt. And she was on the floor, scrubbing.

  ‘You remembered,’ I said.

  ‘Do what you like with me,’ she said.

  I was nervous, and at first I just watched while I shoved my hand down my pants and rubbed my stiffening cock. Then I got a bit closer and reached out a trembling hand toward her rear end. I brushed against the red fabric of the skirt then slowly slid my hand down. With one finger I pressed against the mound hidden by the white panties. She sighed as I fingered the moist cotton. I didn’t understand this and wondered if she’d peed herself. It didn’t stop me though and I began rubbing her pussy through the material. She stiffened, then moaned gently. I cupped her mound with my hand and explored the soft contours of her crotch.

  I was determined to last longer than before, and I wanted her to have an orgasm if possible. But of course I didn’t really know what I was doing, so I just did what I’d done in my fantasies about her; after all, she’d said I could do what I liked with her.

  I lifted her skirt. She had a nice big bum with rounded, smooth white cheeks exposed by the G-string. I pulled the G-string aside and felt my first pussy. The lips were soft and sticky-wet. I was fascinated and inserted an exploratory finger, she gasped and shifted back slightly so as to get more of it inside her.

  I remember that scene so vividly, you know? The afternoon light was pouring in through the windows; I could hear kids playing in the park across the road, the sound of traffic. And there I was with three fingers jammed up the au pair’s sopping wet vagina, my cock like a tent-pole straining in my pants.

  I couldn’t bear it any more. I took off my trousers and pants and told her to take off her panties; I remember my voice cracking a little as I said it. She giggled and wriggled out of her G-string and got back into position. As I knelt down behind her again, she lifted her arse up and spread her legs, exposing herself to me. Then it got a bit awkward as she had to help guide me inside her. You don’t just slap in a cock as big as mine. But it felt amazing. She was so hot inside and groaned as I filled her up. I watched in delirious fascination as my shaft pumped in and out of her wet pussy. She was breathing more and more heavily as I thrust it in deeper and deeper. Faster and faster.

  I didn’t last too much longer than the first time, small atom bombs went off in my head as I climaxed. Exquisitely sensitive, I could feel my pulsing cock stretch her labia and she grunted as I shot my load inside her. She hadn’t orgasmed, so afterwards she turned over, pulled me down on top of her and kissed me roughly as she took my hand and showed me how to bring her off. I’d heard of a clitoris before, but I had no idea where it was, or what you did with it. I was too rough at first so she showed me how to use a gentle circular motion. Her clit felt soft, slick and vulnerable under my fingers and as she came she wrapped her thighs around my hand and thrust herself upwards. I watched her beautiful face, eyes closed in ecstasy.

  Then it was time to go, and again I got back into my room and into the shower just as my stepmother arrived downstairs.

  From then on it was a different lesson every day. I tell you one thing about these Eastern Europeans; they sure have a hell of a work ethic. I couldn’t wait to get home, couldn’t concentrate on my lessons. All I could think about was her body, her lips. Sliding my cock hard into her as we kissed roughly. She taught me so much. God knows where she’d learnt it.

  My schoolwork suffered and I stopped going out with girls from my school. They all thought I was weird. The only social contact I got was through the band, I think the confidence and the self-regard I gained from Lena helped me on stage. I turned from a shy teenager into a swaggering young adult and I guess it was that, plus the fact that we weren’t half bad, that meant we ended up with hundreds of groupies. These weren’t just girls from school either, these were university babes, Camden chicks, even Sloane Rangers, slumming it in the seedy pubs of North London and private parties we played in Hoxton. They’d throw themselves at us after the gigs, and I hated to say no but I had Lena waiting for me at home.

  Again, it sounds like boasting, but the fact that I wouldn’t take any of these girls home made me into even more of a sex object. There were rumours I was gay, and for a while I played up to being celibate like some latter-day Morrissey, but the other guys in the band knew the truth, and the record label would send on fanmail from girls who wanted to fuck me. I was flattered, and intrigued, especially when I read all the things they wanted to do to me, but I stayed loyal to Lena. I didn’t love her; we hardly ever spoke except to tell each other to turn over, or to do something harder, or faster. But I was grateful to her and, most importantly, I didn’t want to disappoint her. She was the first person who ever really showed me love, of a sort, and I didn’t want to let her down.

  One day I came home and she was completely naked, blindfolded and lying on the bed. Wrapped around each wrist was a silk scarf. I knew what she wanted. I tied her arms to the bedposts, and began kissing her. I moved from place to place, surprising her, teasing her, never letting her know where I was going to tongue her next. She parted her thighs, begging me to kiss her there but first I lifted her shapely legs and pushed them back until her ankles touched her ears. Then I lowered my head and tickled her wet outer lips with my clean-shaven chin waited until she could bear it no longer, then rammed my tongue into her wetness.

  It was just then that I heard the door open and a shriek filled the room.

  ‘Cian! What the hell are you doing?’

  It was my stepmother. I looked up, Lena’s juices dripping from my chin, then turned back to the bound au pair, anguish on her face. She knew it was over.

  And that was the end of my first affair. Lena was sent packing back to Rumania or whatever, where I’ve heard the men make less sensitive lovers. I actually cried periodically for a few days, and then one night I flicked open the fanmail, made a list of phone numbers and sent a few texts.

  We had a gig soon after. And most of the girls I’d selected showed up. Afterwards they came crowding up to the stage. I had a few beers with the boys first, then when I came out the back door there was a mob. Girls were fighting. Over me! I picked two pretty much at random, and we escaped in a cab.

  I took them to a hotel, my stepmother kept a pretty tight rein on me at home. I tapped out some coke and we got a few bottles of fizz from room service. At first we just whooped and cheered and rushed around the room; MTV on full blast through the room’s entertainment system. Eventually though we found ourselves lying entangled on the bed and I kissed each of them in turn.

  You read stories in the tabloids about three-in-a-bed romps, but I wasn’t totally sure how to do this. The girls were keen but young; they were looking to me to lead the show. As usual I didn’t want to disappoint. I told one of them, Kayleigh her name was, to sit on the armchair and watch while I did her friend Bianca. Kayleigh was thin, with a hungry look in her eye. I remember she had the tiniest skirt, hardly thicker than a belt, but was expert at crossing her legs just so to stop you getting an eyeful. It drove me crazy.

  Bianca was beautiful, slim waist but curvy everywhere else. I massaged her soft breasts through the thin material of her top and kissed her gently at first, then rougher. I was desperate to get
inside her, but I needed to go slowly, I had determined to give each of them an orgasm before I came. Girls like a bit of the rough stuff now and again, but they also like to be warmed up first, especially the young ones.

  Gradually the clothes came off. Both girls sighed when they saw my cock for the first time. Bianca reached out slowly and took hold of the throbbing monster. She looked a little nervous. I had lube with me though and reached over to my bag to get it. Bianca lubed up my cock slowly. I looked over at Kayleigh; she was touching herself, watching us.

  Then Bianca lay back and spread her legs, I knelt down and kissed her inner thighs, she quivered under my moist tongue. I began kissing closer to her pussy. She had a Brazilian, leaving just the thinnest patch of wispy blonde hair running down the lips. I used my fingers to open her up slightly and kissed her clitoris. She gasped and wriggled. Then I began lapping at her pussy. She started breathing more and more heavily.

  At this point I felt a hand push between my thighs and grab hold of my engorged cock. The naked Kayleigh had decided she couldn’t wait. Soon enough her hand was replaced by her mouth. The sensation was fantastic. I’d had a few drinks, so was able to control myself, and tried to concentrate on tonguing Bianca’s clitoris.

  ‘Fuck me,’ Bianca moaned. Always ready to please, I shifted position, kissed her on the mouth, so she could taste herself and flipped over so she could ride me. Kayleigh helped direct my slick cock into her friend’s wet pussy as Bianca lowered herself onto me. Even with the lube it was a tight fit. She began fucking me, slowly at first but gradually building speed as her pussy stretched to accommodate my girth.

  Kayleigh moved around and without waiting to be asked, lifted a leg over my head and positioned her pussy over my mouth. She was facing Bianca so she could watch me fuck her friend as I licked her.

  Kayleigh came first, as it happened, she was a real sex kitten that one, as I discovered later in the night. It was the time when I first discovered rubbing a bit of coke into the end of your penis keeps it hard for hours. I wouldn’t recommend it though. I stayed semi-hard for days and was red-raw for a week after that. But that night my old friend served me well. I finally came after each of the girls had had a couple of orgasms. I stood up on the bed as the girls knelt before me, wet mouths working on my shaft, fighting over it. Kayleigh slipped a finger up my arse and Bianca stroked my balls as I fired what seemed like gallons of come over their faces.