Untouchable

by Ava Marsh

  ‘Amazing view, isn’t it?’

  He turns and smiles briefly.

  ‘You seem preoccupied,’ I venture.

  James takes a sip of his drink and I clock the wedding band on his finger. ‘I’m sorry. Work rather piling up at the moment.’

  ‘What do you do?’

  A wariness crosses his features. I know immediately I’ve made a false move. Most clients love talking about their job; the more successful they are, the more they like to tell you about it. But James plainly doesn’t want to stray anywhere close to the subject.

  ‘I understand,’ I say quickly, before he’s forced to make something up. ‘You’re here to enjoy yourself, not talk business.’

  ‘Quite.’ He exhales audibly, glancing back at the others. Janine has her face suctioned to Harry’s, while Elisa leans into Alex, her kimono parted just enough to give him a view of the ample swell of her breasts.

  ‘The thing is, I’ve not really done anything like this before.’ James’s eyes won’t meet mine. ‘Been rather roped into this, it being Harry’s fiftieth. Determined to see in his next half-century with a bang.’

  ‘Or two,’ I crack, taking a step towards him and slipping my arm through his. ‘There’s nothing to it. You simply relax and enjoy yourself.’

  He looks at me properly. ‘So you’re Stella.’

  ‘You’ve done your homework.’

  ‘Always,’ he says, his eyes exploring my face. ‘Nice website, by the way. And your reviews – very impressive. Though I have to say your pictures barely do you justice.’

  I make a mental note to update them. ‘I’m not particularly photogenic. My features are too angular.’

  He smiles. ‘Well, nor am I. Can’t stand bloody photographs. Avoid the press like the plague.’

  The press? I pretend to overlook this admission.

  ‘This really is quite something,’ he says, turning back to the view of the Thames below us, meandering its way through the capital. The BT Tower and Centre Point twinkle in the distance, the pale-blue circle of the London Eye glowing like a halo. I take a few steps forward and press my face up to the glass, cupping my hands around my eyes to block out the light from the room. To the right of the Eye I can just make out City Hall and Tower Bridge, and the more distant towers of the City.

  ‘That’s Big Ben,’ James says, pointing to the left. ‘And Westminster, a bit further along.’

  We stare at it for a minute or two. ‘How very far away it all seems,’ he says finally. I smile, slipping my arm around his waist as he steps back from the window. He flinches momentarily, and I wonder if I’ve made another mistake, until he turns and kisses me on the mouth.

  It’s a nice kiss, but I feel uneasy. Behind us I sense Alex watching our every move.

  ‘Come on.’ I nod towards one of the bedrooms.

  James releases me. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like another drink first.’

  ‘Of course.’ I retrieve a bottle from the table and fill his glass. He swallows most of it in one go, then I lead him into the bedroom, resisting the urge to look back.

  It’s quick. James seems both eager and embarrassed, almost in a rush to get it over. I undo his trousers and drop my head to go down on him, but he pushes me on to the bed, removing the lower half of my costume with a decisive tug. I grab a condom and he nudges inside me, burying his face in my hair.

  He emits a kind of whimper when he comes, like he’s in pain. Or in shame. We lie there for several minutes in silence, then I get up and offer him one of the bathrobes. He shakes his head, and pulls up his trousers. I retrieve my silk gown from the en suite, tidying myself up before we both go back into the lounge.

  Things have warmed up in our absence. Anya Marina’s ‘Whatever You Like’ on the sound system, her beautiful husky voice getting everyone in the mood. A silver tube lies discarded on the coffee table, a smear of powder visible against the glass.

  Janine sits astride Harry, who’s gripping her hips and fucking her with an expression of leery concentration. Rob, clearly fascinated, is spread-eagled in the armchair opposite, an erection lifting his towelling dressing gown. I glance across at Alex and Elisa. She’s leaning in to him, talking. His hand fondles her breast as he listens, but he shows no signs of taking it any further. I look away before he notices me watching.

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ James mutters behind me. He grabs one of the bottles and pours himself another drink. Downs it in one, then drops into the armchair and stares, dazed, at his companions.

  ‘Stella.’ Harry withdraws from Janine and beckons me over. ‘I hear you’ve got something of a party trick.’ As I approach, he clutches my dressing gown and pulls it clean away, spinning me round in the process. Grasping my hips, he pushes me on to all fours, his cock nudging my thigh.

  ‘Wait.’ Janine reaches for a fresh condom and he rolls it on. I take a deep breath.

  It’s show time.

  A moment later Harry inserts himself inside me. I steady my breathing, willing myself to relax – tensing up is what makes anal sex painful. But as he starts to thrust I find myself wincing. I should have insisted on more lube – there’s some on the condom, but far from enough to prevent this hurting.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Rob get up and whisper something in Elisa’s ear. Glimpse Alex studying our little tableau with interest.

  ‘Why not?’ Elisa shrugs. ‘Stella’s nothing if not accommodating.’

  Rob walks over. ‘Mind sharing?’ he asks Harry.

  Harry pauses, and grins as he grasps Rob’s meaning. ‘A pleasure, old boy.’ He withdraws, pulling me upright so Rob can slide himself underneath. Rob opens his robe and I lower myself on to him.

  Rob’s large. Very large. I’m not at all sure this is going to work.

  ‘As you were, Harry.’ Rob gives Harry a salacious wink. I feel Harry ease himself back inside me.

  There’s a groan from Rob as they both begin to move, falling into a necessary rhythm with one another. I close my eyes, but I sense the others watching. Even in our world, DP – double penetration – is not something you see every day.

  ‘God almighty,’ James says from somewhere across the room. I can’t tell if he’s excited or appalled.

  Rob groans again. His thrusts become more urgent and I know this won’t be a long performance. I close my eyes and keep my breathing slow and steady, riding out the sensation of fullness inside me.

  Go with it, Grace, I tell myself. Just go with it.

  A bleep from somewhere in the room. I look up to see Elisa sitting on a leather pouf a few feet away, her mobile phone in her hand.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she murmurs, catching my frown, and pops it back in her bag.

  I’m hit by a rush of irritation. What the hell is she up to? Using the fact that everyone’s distracted to do some sly texting? Christ.

  Rob makes a whimpering sound as he comes. Harry follows right behind, his climax marked by nothing more than an indistinct grunt. Both pull out of me in unison, leaving me feeling curiously empty. Harry’s sweat cooling on my back, making me desperate for a shower.

  Elisa walks over, running her hand through my hair as she bends to whisper in my ear.

  ‘Nice job, darling.’

  James leaves shortly after my party piece, muttering something about pressure of work. He goes up to Alex and says something out of earshot of the rest of us.

  The atmosphere in the room seems to collapse with his departure. Harry sits back and lights a cigarette, smiling benignly. Rob, exhausted, wilts into the nearest armchair. Only Alex appears alert, chewing on a canapé and regarding everyone coolly with that calculating stare.

  Janine and I tidy up, letting the men recover for a while. I go for a wee in one of the bathrooms. Check out my reflection in the mirror covering the whole of one wall. The woman gazing back at me appears remote, unfamiliar. I wipe away the smudge of mascara under my left eye and look away.

  Back in the living room Elisa gives us the nod. Time to pick things up again
.

  ‘Come here, birthday boy,’ she croons at Harry, sinking to the floor in front of him and wrapping her lips round his cock.

  Across the room Janine, stripped to stockings and suspenders, towers over Rob in her six-inch heels. ‘Wakey-wakey,’ she says, lifting her right foot and using the toe of her stilettos to push him flat on the sofa. He grins, beckons her forward. She straddles him, lowering herself on to his face.

  ‘Oh God,’ Harry groans as he starts to get hard again, lacing his hands through Elisa’s hair. I can see him pulling it by the roots. That has to hurt, but Elisa doesn’t so much as flinch.

  ‘You fucking beautiful bitch,’ he mumbles as she slides her mouth up and down his shaft, one hand cradling and caressing his balls as the other holds him steady.

  I glance over at Alex, who’s observing Elisa and Harry with his ironic semi-smile. He’s barely touched any of us this evening, I realize; indeed, he’s the only one in the room still fully dressed. I should go over to him, pick up where we left off back in Mayfair, but something in his manner deters me.

  Leave it, Grace, I tell myself. Maybe he just likes to watch. After all, half the point of these parties is to cater to men’s inner voyeur – a rare opportunity to see people fucking in the flesh.

  So I help out Elisa instead, kneeling behind her and running my tongue down her spine. Harry stares at me over the top of her head, groaning even louder as I bring my hand round to cup her breast. Elisa wriggles appreciatively, but I know it’s all for show. Just as I know exactly how far I can go.

  No girls. That’s Elisa’s cardinal rule. Not because she doesn’t like women, but because she does. ‘Men only’ is her way of staying loyal to her girlfriend.

  ‘Stop,’ commands Harry and Elisa obediently removes her mouth. He gets up from the chair and motions her to sit in his place. With one foot on the floor and the other kneeling beside her, he takes his cock in his hand and starts to rub up and down. At the last moment he lifts himself higher and spurts over her face. A glob of semen lands on her cheek, another close to her left eye.

  It’s all I can do not to glare at him. The stupid bastard. Thinks he’s the star in his own personal porno.

  I hand Elisa a couple of tissues as he turns away. She dabs at her eye and I see her wince in pain. ‘Jodhpurs,’ she mouths at me as she looks up.

  ‘Come on,’ I grab her hand and lead her to a bathroom, closing the door behind us. Elisa leans over the sink, splashing water over her face.

  I feel for her. Nothing stings like semen in your eye.

  She raises her head and reaches for some more tissues. ‘That fucking pig.’ She pats her skin dry, then looks at me, her expression more serious than I’ve ever seen it. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he pays for that.’

  I can’t imagine how, but I applaud the sentiment. God only knows how Janine can put up with him.

  Elisa peers in the mirror. Her eyeball looks sore and red and her make-up is ruined.

  ‘Where’s your bag?’ I ask, then remember where she stashed it in the living room. I go and look behind the sofa. As I grasp the handle, her phone falls out on to the floor – I’m about to pick it up when Elisa’s hand appears and grabs it.

  ‘It’s OK. I’ve got it.’

  She retreats into the bathroom, emerging five minutes later with her face fully restored. ‘Thank you,’ she says in a whisper, kissing me lightly on the cheek before glancing around at the remains of the party. ‘Once more unto the breech, dear friend.’

  9

  Tuesday, 10 February

  The evening slides into the early hours. The Viagra has obviously worn off because Harry and Rob have collapsed on the sofa with Janine sprawling naked between them, all absorbed in the adult DVDs she brought with her. Good stuff, thank God. The delectable James Deen screwing a girl over a kitchen table, his eyes locked on hers as he whispers filth into her ear.

  Harry fondles his penis as he stares at the screen, but it’s limp and lifeless now, a portent of years to come. Rob looks glassy-eyed, close to sleep.

  Deen flips the girl on to her stomach and I risk a look at Alex’s face as he watches. Definitely not handsome, no, but there’s a kind of remorseless energy about him, a cool calculating intelligence that attracts and repels in equal measure.

  As Deen lines himself up for the cum-shot, Alex looks across at me in a way that tells me he’s perfectly aware of my inspection. I turn away, retrieving the last of the empty champagne bottles and taking them to the kitchen. The clock above the sleek range cooker says 3.15 a.m.; with any luck we can wrap things up by six.

  A second later Elisa appears, holding a plate of half-eaten canapés. I take them from her and tip them into a Tupperware box. No need for them to go to waste.

  ‘Did you find out who he was?’ she asks.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The one that left. James.’

  I shrug. ‘No idea. Why?’

  ‘Harry says he’s in government.’

  ‘An MP?’

  ‘Harry won’t say.’

  I turn to face her. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Elisa laughs. ‘I’m being nosy, that’s all.’

  ‘Look, is everything all right?’ I keep my eyes fixed on her, alert for tells. Non-verbal leakage, as I was trained to call it.

  She stares back at me, her expression a question mark.

  ‘I noticed you messaging or something earlier. On your phone.’

  There. A slight flush in her cheeks before she looks away. ‘A bit of a family crisis. Sorry.’

  ‘But you’re OK?’

  She purses her lips a little, then smiles. ‘I’m fine. Really.’

  ‘Right.’

  She removes a couple of bottles of sparkling water from the fridge and takes them into the lounge. I follow with some clean glasses. Put them on the coffee table then check the three bedrooms to make sure everything’s still respectable. All look pristine – after all, most of the evening’s action has taken place in the living room – but in the largest I spot a condom wrapper just underneath the bed.

  I bend down to pick it up. As I straighten I catch sight of Alex in the doorway, observing me with the same kind of dispassionate curiosity he wore for the porn.

  I stare back at him. He walks in, closing the door behind him.

  ‘So, Alex,’ I say. ‘How was Paris?’

  He sizes me up for a moment, then laughs. ‘Why? Did you miss me?’

  When I don’t respond, he takes another step forward. This man makes me very nervous, and it’s not only that gun. There’s something about him that feels calculated, almost rehearsed.

  ‘So, the appointment the other week. What was that all about?’

  Alex doesn’t reply. Just holds my gaze.

  ‘Checking me out, were you? Why? This party was booked a month ago.’

  Alex shrugs. ‘Simply curious. Thought it might be interesting to get to know you a bit beforehand.’ He moves closer, until he’s only a few inches away. I can smell his aftershave, something subtle and musky. He looks right into my eyes, but doesn’t attempt to touch me.

  ‘I’m still interested,’ he says. ‘In hearing about you.’

  ‘Like I said, there’s nothing to tell.’ I resist the temptation to step back, to put more distance between us.

  ‘Stella …’ His tongue dallies on my name as his hand darts out and grabs my wrist. I flinch and try to twist away, but his grip is firm as he pulls me to him. ‘Quite the little enigma.’

  He holds the back of my head firmly as his mouth presses itself against mine, his kiss rough and insistent. Then he pushes me on the bed, parting my gown, his lips moving to my breast. I stop resisting. My body responds to his touch like parched earth to rain, my skin prickling, my mind turning blank as deep water as he runs his hand down my belly and slips it between my legs.

  ‘Wet already, Stella?’ he says, his voice teasing. He hovers for an instant before pushing two fingers inside me. I feel myself contract aroun
d him as he leans over and kisses me hard on the mouth.

  ‘Don’t you get tired of all this?’ he murmurs as he slides his fingers in and out, his thumb hovering over my clitoris.

  ‘I—’

  ‘Shhhhh …’ He increases his pace. ‘Don’t say a word. Put everything out of your mind.’

  His thumb presses harder, starts to circle, and my hips curve up to meet him. Another kiss, then he pulls his head back and locks eyes with mine, his look almost challenging, as he steps up the rhythm on my clit.

  A warmth spreads through my abdomen, a hitch in my breathing.

  ‘You,’ he says, with a small crook of his mouth, ‘are a very provocative woman.’

  I turn away from the intensity of his gaze, but he uses his free hand to pull my face back to his.

  ‘Come on, Stella. Let it go.’ His voice is low, insistent, speaking to that unthinking part of me that has taken over, hungry, oblivious to anything but the exquisite sensation in my groin.

  ‘I can’t …’ I gasp, but sense myself getting near.

  ‘I think you can,’ he whispers, so close to my ear I can feel the moistness of his breath on my skin, and then I come with a cross between a yelp and a moan, Alex suspended above me, watching me subside. That perpetual half-smile. A taunt. An invitation.

  I lean forward and grasp his neck, pulling him towards me, parting my legs as my hand goes down to unzip his trousers.

  But he pulls away. ‘No, Stella. Not here.’

  I look at him. ‘Why not?’

  He just shakes his head. ‘Get up.’

  The night is wearing into early morning, though it’s still dark outside. Harry and Rob have tired of porn and now CNN runs soundlessly from the screen on the wall. Janine is picking at a tag on her nail, mentally on sabbatical now that no one is paying her any attention.

  ‘Shit.’

  Harry grabs the remote and turns up the volume. We all stare at the TV. A reporter in a grey trench coat stands in front of the Houses of Parliament, speaking fast into a handheld microphone, reeling off details of some defence contract. Before I can catch what it’s all about, Alex gets up and seizes the remote, blanking the screen.