Guilt

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

“You could tell me to walk over hot coals, and I would baby, I’d do anything for you,” he growls, cupping my breast in his hand and squeezing, his big cock standing to attention.

  I settle between his spread thighs and gaze beyond his erection and into his eyes. While we maintain eye contact, I kiss his penis gently, worshipping him. I kiss his stomach and his balls, never losing eye contact for longer than a few seconds. I lick the shiny head of his cock and suck a pearl of precum into my mouth, licking my lips and groaning as I taste his salty arousal.

  “Tell me about your pain,” I beg, “tell me everything. Tell me when you knew. Tell me how many nights you’ve lain here stroking yourself to thoughts of me. Tell me how you’ve cried, tell me how you’ve hurt.”

  I continue kissing his cock, never sucking, continually bestowing the most fervent, featherlight kisses against the rigid flesh of his manhood. I stroke my nose up and down, inhaling every inch of him, becoming intimate with his tenderness. I love how he keeps leaking precum and he loves how I keep licking it into my mouth.

  “I think I’ve always known,” he confesses, “but I wasn’t surprised when you got married or any of that. I don’t know why, but I wasn’t. I was surprised however when you kept in touch; when you kept sending me emails; when you still cared about my life. I’m not going to lie and say there haven’t been women. Sometimes I’ve felt lonely, sometimes it’s gotten to the end of a very drunken, lonely old night and there have been female companions to keep me warm, but whenever anyone tries to get close, I pull away because it’s not the same as it is with you. I know that as long as I’ve got you in my life, in whatever way I can get you, I know I’ve got someone to talk to who understands me completely, who gets me, who I have a rapport with. I miss you so much when you’re gone, when you’re busy… and I know I’ve no place to be muscling in on your world.”

  His words take my breath away and not for the first time today, perhaps not even for the fifth time, more like the sixth or seventh or even eighth, a tear drops from my eye and a shiver of utter delicious relief washes over me.

  I crawl onto his body, allowing my hair to run free and stroke his skin as I move. I put my hands in his and lift his arms above his head, pinning him down while I get comfortable on top of him, ready to take him inside me.

  “I don’t want to be your comfort blanket,” I groan. “I want to be your woman. I want filthy, dirty sex and I want to be treated like a lady outside of the bedroom, and a slut inside it. I want you to use my body for your pleasure and fill me as many times as you require. I’ve panted in the night for you, touching myself to thoughts of your lips caressing my body, your hands all over me. I’ve come to thoughts of your shoulders bearing down on me, your hips between my thighs, your cock inside me and your kisses ravishing me. The reality is even better, though. I’ve fancied you since the moment we met and I’ve loved you for years. It’s only with you that I remember myself… that I know myself.”

  “Gorgeous,” he growls.

  Our noses and foreheads touch as he stares at me with animal passion. I don’t berate him this time; I’m beginning to feel more gorgeous, the more time I spend in his arms.

  I lean in and kiss him; he’s pliant and submissive, eager to receive me. I let him catch his breath and kiss his jaw and ear. He kisses my throat and shoulders as I move about, enjoying him.

  His tongue tastes my flesh, the same as I taste his. I wriggle across his lap until his cock pops up into position, enabling me to slide around and ease myself down onto him.

  Our hands held tight together, my chest heaves as he fills me full. He looks joyous and grateful, yet yearning for more, all at the same time.

  “I dreamed of this,” he murmurs, “I dreamed of you… passionate and sexual. I must have always known, deep down, this is who you are.”

  “I love you.” I kiss his lips gently before leaning back and sitting upright on his cock. I reach back for my own heels and arch as I take him into me, again and again. Sam holds my thighs and my waist, his noises almost louder than mine. I love that he’s so vocal. I would hate for him to try and hide how he feels about me, at least not anymore. He grabs my breast in his hand and uses the thumb of his free hand to rub my clit as I work my hips fast over his.

  I’m utterly lost. I don’t care about anything anymore; not about how big my boobs are or about my jiggly bits. Sam seems to love me just as I am.

  When he sits up and wraps his arms tight around me, I shift my legs so that I can wrap them around his back and we begin rocking together instead. While he’s sucking and kissing my breasts, his cock hardens even more and I cling to his hair tight, moving my hips as fast as I can.

  I cry out loudly at the same time as him and it’s truly euphoric as we come together for the first time, our bodies perfectly in sync, the sensation of his hardness between my trembling walls so thoroughly and utterly satisfying as I shake and pant and allow my facial contortions to run out of control.

  He falls back onto the bed and I fall with him, curling up on top of his body, my weight resting entirely on top of his. He drags a sheet over the top of us and wraps his arms around me, kissing the top of my head as we recover.

  “It should have always been like this,” I cry, because I’ve yearned for it, I’ve dreamed… I’ve begged for life to bring this sort of happiness my way – and now I discover it’s been right here all along, waiting. Being contented is so simple in theory, and yet, I’ve been unable to conjure this same feeling with Gage. It just isn’t possible. I tried. I failed. There’s something missing between us. It’s a sad reality.

  “Hush, sweet baby. I’ll wait,” he whispers, “and I’ll be here. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Even if we can only be friends, then we’ll be friends forever.”

  I love him so much, it hurts. I take his hand and kiss his palm, then hold it to my cheek.

  “Forever,” I agree, because I cannot imagine a life without my Sam in it.

  Chapter Five

  IT’S TEN O’CLOCK AT NIGHT when we finally sit down to eat dinner. It’s a fairly simple meal of steak, peppercorn sauce, new potatoes, onion rings and green beans, washed down with what remains of the bottle of plonk we opened earlier.

  “I hate to say it, but I don’t think we can work together.”

  I look up at him, shocked by his words. “After all that earlier? Showing me your office and bigging it up.” I can’t help laughing derisively.

  “That was before this,” he says, gesturing with his index finger between us, indicating how very recent developments have suddenly changed everything.

  “I agree. Your boss would pick up on it, and neither of us needs that. Besides, I do have things happening.”

  “Yeah, what things?” he asks.

  All the blinds are shut, which is good, because he’s eating dinner in his pants while I’m wearing just his t-shirt. He lit a few candles for the table but besides those, there’s just the oven hood lighting the room. It’s a romantic meal, dare I say. It’s even more romantic that he just cooked all this for me because no man has ever cooked for me before.

  “Well, I have a feeling… a hope… that eventually, she’s going to branch out. Or something. For so long I’ve had it in my head that when her business does finally take off, I won’t be needed anymore, but after you showed me all that today… it’s actually given me loads of ideas for how I can help her grow the business.”

  “Yeah? That’s amazing.” He chews through his steak energetically, as though he’s eager to get me back in bed.

  “Yeah, I mean, she’s just so creative you see, but she doesn’t have a clue when it comes to the other stuff. She’s a bit bloody useless actually. She wouldn’t have even started up the business if Jules and I hadn’t kicked her up the arse.”

  “Jules?” he questions, searching his memory banks for where he’s heard that name before and in what context.

  “I may have mentioned her… my old English teacher?”

  “Yeah, I think you
did, but I seem to remember meeting a Jules recently. I was at a careers event at the school she works at, I think. That Catholic school near the Avenues…?”

  “Yep… that’s my old school,” I admit, sheepish.

  “Her husband was there, too. He and I got into a massive long conversation about why the Lord of the Rings was ever three instalments when the eagles could’ve flown Frodo and Sam into Mordor and saved the audience hours of time.”

  He makes me laugh out loud. “That is so weird! And scary. I meet up with Jules for coffee occasionally and Hetty is going out with Warrick’s son, Joe.”

  Sam frowns. “You’re joking? Shit.”

  “Yeah, you’ve basically already met my entire tribe. Joe’s practically a clone of Warrick.”

  “I really got on with Warrick, though I think he struck up conversation with me because he didn’t want Jules getting ideas about a younger, more virile man.”

  I burst out laughing. “Oh, that sounds about right! He’s terribly insecure, what with being older and everything.”

  “And because she’s fit as fuck?”

  “A lady would never use that terminology… but, yes!”

  He chuckles and leans across the table to give me a kiss. “She’s got nothing on you, sweet girl. Nothing. God literally smacked you around the chops with that femininity stick, let me tell you.”

  His affection, confidence and charm do strange things to me. I’m just not used to getting compliments all the bloody time.

  I laugh off his words and continue, “So, you were at a careers event to… big up marketing?”

  “Yeah…” He continues carving through his steak. “My boss sent me. I went for the free buffet, believe me. Institutions give me the creeps. I’m still in therapy having been to boarding school,” he jokes.

  “Once upon a time, teaching was all I wanted to do. I’m just not sure now. Going back to do my teacher training… all that… I don’t know if I’m past it, to be honest.”

  “You can do anything you put your mind to. I believe in you. Whatever you decide to do, you’ll be great at.”

  “It’s easy to say…”

  He finishes his dinner and picks up his glass of wine, sniffing its various notes as if he’s a connoisseur, when we both know he’s only interested in its ABV.

  “You’re just waiting for the right time, Liza. I know it. When the right time comes, you will know what to do and how to do it, because you’re you. I can’t wait to see what happens.”

  I try to let his words sink in and hold them close to my heart. If I could just believe them, maybe I could do exactly what he believes me capable of.

  “I say things like that to Hetty all the time,” I admit, smacking myself in the face. “Her designs are beautiful. She doesn’t wear any of them, because she’s always in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with some brash logo, but her stuff is so… what’s the world… pretty! So pretty. Inside, she has a heart of absolute gold. I feel as if we could be one of those partnerships, you know? I bet while she’s been sat there feeding the baby all the time, her mind has been running riot with ideas for dresses. I think I may have to be ready.”

  “It is a beautiful thing when a plan comes together,” he remarks, waiting patiently while I finish my dinner between chewing his ear off.

  When I finally finish my steak, I drink two huge mouthfuls of wine and sit back, content.

  Then my phone pings.

  I walk over to my bag and discover it’s just Mum:

  They’re asleep. Rupert had a bit of teething trouble, but he’s fine. He tired himself out.

  Thanks, Mum. I’m out with an old school friend, catching up.

  That sounds lovely. Have a great time. You deserve it.

  There’s also a text from Joe which makes me smile: Tits are of equal size now. She forced me to check. Thanks Liza X

  “Just my mum,” I relay, sitting back at the table. “And another letting me know Het’s okay.”

  “Nothing from Gage?” Sam asks.

  “No,” I chuckle, “no. He never texts.”

  “That bad, eh?”

  “He’s always been one-dimensional, but yeah… In his mind, I’m stuck home with two kids, watching some soppy film with a box of chocolates and a best friend who keeps calling. He would never imagine I need to hear from him.”

  “It’s his loss if he can’t see what it is to love a woman like you.”

  Again, his words leave me breathless and adrift, unable to find anything in my vocabulary to match his sentiment. The dam’s finally broken and he’s pouring with love, constantly.

  “I just need to cuddle and watch telly,” I tell him – anything to take my mind off things and give us something else to focus on.

  Sam clears our plates and grabs another bottle of wine, handing it to me. “Look good?”

  “It’ll do,” I grin.

  I pour a couple of glasses for us while he loads the dishwasher.

  “Would you like dessert? I have Gu puddings and cream.”

  “I think I could go for that, yes.”

  I get comfy on the sofa in his t-shirt, which drowns me, but still I need something else to keep me warm, so I raid the drawer in his coffee table and discover – to my delight – a fluffy, warm blanket.

  “Ooh, yeah,” I groan, and when he brings over pudding, he sees how comfy I’ve made myself and grins.

  He returns wearing a robe, carrying his own pudding, having heated his up in the microwave after mine. On the TV, he puts on some late-night film.

  “What’s this?” I ask, as I linger over my pudding, which is volcanic in the middle.

  “It’s called Nocturnal Animals.”

  “Oh, no. I can’t watch stuff like this. Put something fluffy on. I can’t do murder and stuff and violence.”

  “Oh, why not?”

  “I can’t. I need fluff. It happens when you become a parent, you can’t cope with all that shit out there in the world anymore. You have to block it all out to become a nucleus of light and fluff for your kids.”

  “Okay, let me see what I can find…”

  He puts something else on and lets me read the synopsis. It’s The Warriors which I have never seen before.

  “Cult film,” he tells me, “trust me. Just trust me.”

  “Okay.”

  I’M GROGGY AS I lift my head. We must have fallen asleep on the sofa. The TV is still playing but now it’s some ancient horror movie I’ve never heard of, so we must have missed most of The Warriors which I was actually quite enjoying, but fatigue had other ideas. Sam’s still out of it next to me. We’ve been curled up tight, together. I last remember watching those teenagers board a train… then Sam and I buried ourselves beneath the blanket… and now here we are.

  I shake his shoulder gently. “Sam… sweetie… let’s head to bed. We fell asleep on the sofa…” He stirs, rubbing his fingers incessantly around his nose. “Darling, let’s crawl into bed and go to sleep.”

  “I’m coming,” he groans.

  I use the bathroom and drink a glass of water. He carries out the same tasks in succession.

  I crawl into bed naked and he follows suit. His bed’s lovely and comfortable and stinks of his cologne. He spoons me, his naked body so close to mine.

  “You feel incredible. Don’t leave early tomorrow… Stay, let me make you breakfast. Let us… let us…”

  I have no idea what he’s holding back, but I know there’s something.

  “Let us what?”

  “…pretend you’re not going back to him.”

  His candour takes me aback, as it always has, and always will. I’m not like him. I’d lie to save face… always. It’s my upbringing… it’s me.

  “We could pretend it’s just me you love, but we’d be lying to ourselves,” he continues. “However, I understand completely, and I still love you more than anything, and I will still love you once you set sail on that journey we talked about today. Whatever happens, I just want to remember today and tomorrow mornin
g as having been perfect.”

  I literally can’t breathe. His words are crushing me. I roll over onto his chest and finally, my stomach gives and I suck in air. Once I’ve caught a breath, I begin wailing into his chest, ruining the perfect moment.

  He doesn’t hush me or try to curtail me; in fact, he lies with me, holding me as tight as he can while I sob in his arms.

  “I wish, more than anything else in the whole world, that I’d met you first. I really wish that, Sam. I really, really do.”

  He strokes my hair, gazing into my eyes with all his love as he whispers, “But then you wouldn’t have had those babies, and you wouldn’t be who you are right now, and it’s the you right now that I find mesmerising. It’s having watched you grow up over the years that has made me fall wildly in love with you.”

  Fully awake, we stare at one another before he kisses me and roughly grabs me in his arms, his intent unmistakable.

  He wants me to know how much I’m wanted, and I’m so grateful, because it feels like I’ve just been born – that I may have finally arrived.

  Chapter Six

  IT’S BRIGHT WHEN I OPEN my eyes. I’m lying across his chest, feeling warm and rested and in love. It’s a little bit like nausea and euphoria, all wrapped up in one weirdly beautiful blanket you never want to take off. When he strokes my hair, I wonder if he’s been awake for a while, waiting for me to rise. I stay where I am, though. I can’t stand to break the spell. I don’t want to return to the life I had before we entered his flat yesterday evening.

  When he kisses the top of my head, I realise he must recognise I’m awake. Perhaps I’ve stopped snoring or my breathing has changed and he knows I’m lying here, willing him not to speak because I just want to continue living this dream – where I wake up and have the man I love taking care of me, protecting me – making me feel so wanted and vital, not a bit part in his life.

  “When can I see you again?” he asks, sounding a little broken.

  The emotion in his words makes me lift my head to look into his eyes. I tremble in response to the desperation he’s clearly feeling.