by Lily Harlem
‘About two weeks later I was out with Phedra. We’d been to a disco with a group of friends. She’d been glued to my side all night, touching my chest, kissing my neck. Really staking her claim on me in front of all the other girls. I could have taken my pick of them in reality. I had sun-blond hair, a tan, and as I said, I’d shot up that year.
‘The disco was good. Phedra and I danced wildly. I flung her about, she laughed, I pressed her to me and she giggled and told me I was the only one for her. When a slow song came on at the end, I dragged her close, so close her soft, big breasts pressed against my chest and I swear I could feel her nipples poking at my shirt. Naturally, the snake in my trousers went from asleep to wide-awake in the space of a nanosecond, and there was nothing I could do to hide it. Part of me didn’t want to, so I kept her close. Real close. Jesus, I can still remember the look on her face now. Wide eyes, a quick “oh” of surprise and then she tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth and kinda smiled. Damn, that gesture was so innocent yet so bloody erotic.’
I licked my lips and realised, with a flutter in my chest, that I’d been doing the exact same thing as I’d shaved him. Had he thought that was erotic too?
‘I hope you don’t think less of me for this next bit, Sharon, but remember I was a horny teenager, and I was yet to get myself any action, of any description.’
‘Not at all. It’s all part of life.’
‘Yeah, you’re right about that.’ He paused. ‘So I took her home, I always did, and when we got there, me still hard as an iron girder – God knows how I managed to walk – we noticed her parents were out. I asked if I could come in. Get a drink. It was July, hot enough to fry eggs on the road, even at night.
‘Her house was small, frilly, if you know what I mean. Lace doilies, crocheted tablecloths: effigies of Christ all over the place, on the wall, on the fireplace, even on top of the fridge. We guzzled water, but then while I had thoughts of going into her bedroom and persuading her to finally show me her beautiful breasts, she opted for the sofa in the living room. Said she wanted to show me some history book of her father’s or something. So I sat next to her, horny as heck, and not even trying to disguise that fact. I looked at her chest, jiggling slightly under the low-cut, polka-dot dress she wore and eventually, I took the plunge and went for a kiss that was full of passion.
‘She matched my enthusiasm and my hopes soared. This was it. Phedra was as into it as I was. Her chest was mashed against mine, her nipples tight. Her tits were big but she felt so small, with tiny shoulders, delicate arms squeezing me. I felt like a man, you know, and I couldn’t wait to prove that I was one.
‘I lowered her down, onto her back, surprised that she was letting me take such control. She usually stopped our kisses if my breaths got a bit heavy. But not this time. No, this time her breaths were as heavy as mine, her little hands were skimming up and down my body. I spread kisses down her neck – her skin tasted of vanilla and sherbet, kind of summery but also dead sexy.
‘I was growing bolder, exploring the first rise of her breasts with my tongue. She slid her hands into my hair, arched her back, pressing herself into me. Encouraged, I slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulders and exposed her gorgeous chest. She didn’t wear a bra so my access was unhindered and I had none of the agonised fumbling my mates complained of when trying to undo clips and catches, know what I mean?’
I nodded.
‘She was perfect and fitted in my hand just right. I can still remember the weight of the outside slopes as I squashed them together, creating that channel my horny teenage imagination had been dreaming about for so long. She panted my name and I suckled her nipples. The most lovely gasps and sighs came from her. I was flying high. I was onto a winner. Sucking Phedra’s perfect breasts was a top fantasy and fulfilling it was spinning me high. Well, it did for a few minutes, and then the damn anaconda between my legs demanded attention. I sat up. It pained me to move even an inch from her, and I was scared that I might break the spell. But luckily it didn’t. She just stared at my groin, all big eyes and slack mouth as I tugged out my erection. I had to touch it carefully, I was so close to coming. One wrong move, a frantic jerk or an over-zealous squeeze and it would be all over.
‘I repositioned with my legs either side of her chest. It was a bit awkward on the sofa, but I managed. She just lay there and eyed my engorged manhood like it might bite her. I said a few words of encouragement as I angled the head between her tits, and this seemed to spur her on. She squeezed the flesh together, creating that perfect tunnel between them, just what I’d fantasied about. I remember sucking in a breath, holding it deep, and then sliding through her sweat-damp cleavage. If felt amazing. Not least because she groaned like she actually enjoyed it. That hadn’t been something I’d counted on. By the time I’d repeated the action my balls were tight into my body. I was so close.
‘She was watching the tip of me pop out of her cleavage on each ride. I thought about sliding into her gasping mouth but decided to save that for another time. I was too close to shooting my load. I wouldn’t get there.
‘And then, I had my first spurting session with a real, live girl. Jizz flew from my slit, slapping onto her throat, her chin. I shunted into her breasts, fascinated by the sight of my semen landing around her mouth, her cheeks. Damn, I was proud of the serious quantities my balls could produce. She looked shocked to be honest, shocked and stunned.
‘Well, I had about three seconds of being on top of the world, and thinking this was it, from now on we’d forget about discos or lounging at the beach. We had found a new pastime for whenever we hung out. Damn, she even looked like the photograph I’d jizzed over. And then the overhead light went on, brilliant and white, and her parents looked in from the living room doorway.’
‘Bloody hell,’ I said. ‘You really didn’t get much privacy as a teenager did you.’
‘Tell me about it,’ he groaned. ‘Again I just froze and stared down at Phedra, who was sticky and gooey, and looking like someone who’d just woken up and found themselves dropped into a porn movie.
‘The mother squealed and begged the Lord to save them from my hideous urges then fled to the kitchen. Her father, in Greek, told me to get my pants up. Naturally, I did, pretty sharpish, didn’t want him messing with Mr Cobra down there. Phedra grabbed a red-and-white lacy shawl from the arm of the sofa, wiped her face, kind of – she missed a blob of cum just to the left of her mouth – then quickly dragged up the straps of her dress.
‘It’s then it becomes really shameful, if you can imagine it being more so. I told the biggest lie of my life. Her father, although a small man, managed to look like a damn ninja in that moment, and he asked me what my intentions were with his daughter. I looked to Phedra for support, but her face had drained of colour, her hands were shaking, she looked too shocked to even cry. I glanced around the room and my attention fell on a grainy photograph of Phedra’s parents in a silver frame. That’s when the lie came to me. I took Phedra’s hand, squeezed it tight and told him that my intention was to marry his daughter.
‘He still didn’t look too happy, though he did unclench his fists. So I kissed Phedra’s knuckles, dropped to my knee and looked into her eyes with as much sincerity as I could muster given the circumstances. I proposed then, and it felt kind of right. She let out a little sob, that blob of cum on her face wobbled, and then she nodded.
‘And that was how I became engaged, the first time, at least. Her mother came running into the room and hugged me, the father shook my hand, and Phedra finally stopped shaking and I managed to discreetly wipe the last of my excitement from her face.’
‘The first time?’ I asked, freshening up the water and spotting a tube of aqueous cream on the shelf. ‘Tell me about the second.’ I set about massaging the cream into his freshly washed feet. His toes were long, the arches deep, there were a few pale hairs on his two biggest toes. He didn’t react to my extra measures at preventing bedsores so I guessed he wasn’t ticklish.
‘The thing was though, her look-but-don’t-touch plan backfired. I’d barely been in Manchester a week and I was in bed with Stella, a red-haired student on my marketing course. She was as in to it as much as me, and wonderfully experienced. She used to do this rotating thing with her hips and then squeeze her internal muscles. Damn, it drove me to the edge every time. God knows how we managed to get any studying done that first term, we were insatiable.
‘Did I miss Phedra? No, not a jot. I wouldn’t have admitted that even to myself back then, though, I liked to pretend I wasn’t that much of a scumbag. I even tried to justify it in my head that I was refining my technique ready for our wedding night. But really, I don’t know who I was trying to kid. I loved being with Stella. She was hot, naughty, and just like a bloke the way she wanted to get naked anywhere, anytime, anyhow.’
‘Sounds fun.’
‘It was, and after Stella it was Nancy, then Emily, and then a bunch of girls whose names all kind of merge into one in my memory. I was on a frenzy for the whole three years I studied. It helped being compared to Brad Pitt who was just making a name for himself as an on-screen god back then. Personally, I thought the resemblance was tenuous, but I wasn’t going to deny girls their fantasy and did my best to make them squeal in delight until the early hours of the morning.
‘I never saw Phedra again. And I’m ashamed to admit that. Not to break off the engagement nor to explain myself. I just didn’t go home in the holidays. My parents were shocked by my long absence from Greece and even came to see me after eighteen months with reports of Phedra’s distress and her family’s growing concerns for my commitment to her. I told them nothing had changed and I just wanted to be standing on my own two feet financially before taking on the responsibility of a wife.
‘They left after three days, not entirely convinced and seemingly suspicious of all the pretty girls who called “hello” to me around the campus. I never saw them again, my parents. And that last meeting, that was full of deception, pains me even all these years later. They were killed the next spring, in a plane crash. They were on one of these light aircrafts and it crashed into the sea in a storm. My parents and three of my father’s work colleagues and their wives were all reported missing. They’d been to Cephalonia on some work-jolly, wine-tasting weekend. It seemed the pilot had also indulged, so the inquest said.
‘The bodies were never found, so no funeral as such. They had a service, of course, but I didn’t go. My sister never forgave me for that, and I’ve never forgiven myself for it either. But the thought of seeing Phedra and her parents was just too terrifying. Why, I don’t know. I should have manned up and told her the situation, but while the authorities were searching for the plane for two months I fell into a place where only alcohol and shagging seemed to make the pain bearable.
‘My university course came to an end. I had a degree, plenty of inherited cash and had taken to fluttering on the horses, which just added to my list of vices – women, booze and gambling. I had a big win, on a horse at Cheltenham, and decided to use the cash to do some travelling. I hopped on a plane to Vegas, the city of lights and dreams. It turned out to be a one-way ticket for several years.
‘On my very first night there I met Cleo. She was tall, blonde, bubbly and from Texas. Her Southern drawl made my groin ache right from the first time she said “Howdy, cowboy, how ya doin’?” I bought her a drink and she sat with me at a roulette table in Caesars Palace. When she kissed my cheek and wished me luck right before a thousand-buck win came in, I was smitten.
‘Cleo became my world. I gambled a small fortune but won a larger one. My luck just kept on growing and for six months I didn’t need to work at all. Then a friend I’d made said he was opening his own casino, just off the strip. Not quite as salubrious as Vegas’ other signature hotels, but classy enough for me to want to invest. With inheritance and big wins I threw up fifty per cent of the cash he needed and signed the deal on the same night I proposed for the second time in my life.
‘Cleo, in her true spirit, yeha’d and leapt on me. I adored her enthusiasm for life, her ditzy nature and the fact that in her eyes I could do no wrong, despite my failings. None of which I’d ever tried to hide; she knew it all. I’d cocked up with my family, drank and gambled, but she still loved me. It made me love her all the more.
‘We married, but we didn’t settle in Texas, we bought a pad in Vegas. Cleo didn’t need to work. She had her nails done, went to the gym, wished me luck when I threw dice. She was there for me, I was there for her, and the casino I’d invested in was making me a good living with minimal effort required. We were on a permanent holiday and for several blissful years I was happier than I thought it possible to be.
‘Then Cleo began to withdraw and eventually confessed she hadn’t been taking her pill and couldn’t understand why she wasn’t pregnant. Technically she should have been – we were at it every opportunity we got. We were like a couple of rabbits on speed. And why not, she had a body made for fantasies and was up for anything, if you know what I mean.’
‘Mmm,’ I said, thinking what a lucky girl this Cleo was to be rolling not just a dice but also between the sheets with Ted.
‘I paid for us to go and see the best doctor in town. A ton of tests later, we got our answer. I was shooting blanks, no swimmers at all. Not one little bugger to even have a go at wriggling into an ovum. All that time I’d been so proud of my huge quantities of jizz, presuming it to be laden with tadpoles, and it was just empty juice – vodka and lemonade without the damn vodka.’
‘That’s bad luck,’ I said. ‘I’m really sorry.’
‘Yeah, we were too, devastated in fact, and I began to drink heavily again, something I’d stopped doing. My luck took a downward turn at the tables, not that it mattered. I only gambled with my spare change really. The casino was my steady wage and paid the bills. I guess I was depressed again but didn’t recognise it at the time.
‘It was a few months before I noticed there was something different about Cleo. She was putting on weight, eating weird stuff and sleeping all the time. She couldn’t hide her pregnancy from me for another day.
‘Her confirmation of my suspicion really turned my world upside down. That feeling, dreams coming true, existed for an entire three seconds, then she blurted out that the baby was Stan’s. Stan was my best friend, the guy I’d set up the casino with. It seemed during my depression Stan had been cheering Cleo up, not with a box of chocolates and a bunch of flowers, but with his big, fat, cheating dick.
‘If I thought I’d been depressed before, then now I was rock bottom. Cleo announced that she was in love with Stan and wanted to divorce me and marry him so he could raise his child. Talk about getting kicked in the guts when you’re already down. I’m pretty sure I would have made a go of it, with her and the baby, if she’d just given me some time to get used to the idea. I loved her with all my heart and could have loved her child. But Cleo always was an instant gratification kind of girl. If she wanted something she wanted it now, and right then, she wanted Stan.
‘So there was nothing left for me to do but sell the house and move away. I didn’t fancy Greece and a sister who still wouldn’t speak to me and a fiancée who I hoped had moved on with her life but would probably still garrote me given the chance.’
‘So that’s how you came back to the UK?’ I asked, finishing up with his feet and putting the cream back on the shelf.
‘Yes, I went to Manchester. It was where I knew and I took a job in marketing. I hated it, despite climbing the ranks pretty quickly. Everyone there was such a shark, ready to take chunks out of one another to look good or claim an
idea or strategy. I might not be a model citizen, but I knew right from wrong, and the things that went on at this place, well it was just plain immoral.
‘So five years ago, divorced, alone, and in a job I hated, I upped sticks to the Dales and joined the fire service. It wasn’t as well paid as marketing. But for the first time I felt like I was doing something worthwhile. The guys I worked with were salt-of-the-earth types and the people I helped genuinely in need. I finally found a sense of peace within myself.’
He sighed, and I helped him drink a little more of his beer. He gulped quickly, taking over half the drink in one go.
‘Until three weeks ago,’ he said licking his lips. ‘That damn beam came down and this happened.’ He held up his bandaged hands. ‘I guess it could have been worse though.’
‘Yep, you could not be here at all, same goes for the person you saved,’ I said, squeezing out the flannel.
He gave a small shudder. ‘I know, I’m used to risking myself but the thought of a bad judgment or a twist of fate having implications for someone else makes my blood run cold if I think about it too much.’
‘I know what you mean.’
‘Yeah, I’m sure, doing the job you do.’
Our eyes connected briefly.
‘So have you been going through all of this alone?’ I asked.
‘I’ve got good friends, the best. The guys from the station have been in and out visiting.’ He sighed. ‘But an accident like this, it kind of reminds them all of their own mortality and the risks they take on a daily basis. It’s not easy viewing.’
‘What about your sister? Has she been to see you?’
‘No. I sent her a letter two weeks ago. I know it arrived in Greece, I sent it recorded delivery. She signed for it but she hasn’t answered. Not yet anyway.’