The Birthday That Changed Everything

by Debbie Johnson

  As I calmed, I blinked my eyes clear and looked up. He was kneeling in front of me, a lazy smile on his face and a huge erection in his pants.

  I reached up and laid my hand on his groin, felt him twitch in response.

  ‘Stand up,’ I said. He did, and I kneeled in front of him, pulled out his cock, and licked it from shaft to tip before closing my lips around it. I felt him tangle his hands in the back of my hair, and heard him moaning. He was big, and more than ready, and it was over in seconds.

  We both collapsed back on to the blanket, and James rolled me into his arms so my head was scooped on to his chest.

  ‘Jesus,’ he said, laughter in his voice. ‘That didn’t take long. I suppose we’d been storing it up for over a year.’

  ‘I know,’ I said letting my hands roam across his muscles, all embarrassment gone – however temporarily. ‘In the words of Miss McTavish, I think I just found my inner goddess. And she’s a bit of a slut.’

  Chapter 29

  ‘Told you we weren’t having sex,’ he said, as we arrived back on dry land. It was late afternoon, and James needed to get Jake from kids’ club. I needed a shower and a screaming phone call to Diane.

  After our initial and rather fabulous fumble, we’d entertained ourselves eating, drinking, and messing around with each other’s body parts. True enough, no sex – or ‘intercourse’, as Lucy had put it. But lots of other lovely stuff; stuff I’d never even known could feel that good.

  ‘Didn’t any of that count, then?’ I asked.

  ‘No – that was just foreplay. You’re in for a lot of trouble over the next couple of weeks. I hope you packed your vitamins.’

  A random thought raced across my mind: what happens after that couple of weeks? When the holiday’s over, and reality bites? Will it be back to Saturday-night smut and long-distance lust? Or will that be it for us – a fortnight of fun then we go bye-bye?

  Either I’ve got the most transparent face in the world, or James can read my mind. He’d done it a few times already. He put his arm round me as we walked, hefting the hamper along with the other.

  ‘We’re here, and we’re together, Sal. It’s taken us a year to get this far…let’s not worry about what happens next just yet.’

  I nodded. He was right. And he was touching me again, so that was okay.

  As we neared the turn-off to the hotel, I spotted Marcia striding along the shore, dressed in a diaphanous multicoloured wrap that swirled around her awesomely long legs. I was about to shout hello to her when I noticed she was meeting someone – Hakan, the new waiter. He cracked open one of those special grins, and reached out to embrace her. He was at least thirty years younger and half a foot shorter, but that didn’t seem to be bothering either of them. They hadn’t even noticed us.

  ‘Holey-moley,’ I said, quickly averting my eyes, ‘I wonder what’s going on there?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ James replied, frowning. ‘Rick and Marcia are a mystery to us all – I love them to bits, and I’d have Marcia on my side in a fight any day, but I couldn’t even begin to guess the rules of their relationship. So I’m going to do the mature thing and pretend I didn’t see it. Right, I’m off for Jake…shall I text you? Turn up at your door at midnight naked with a rose in my teeth?’

  An enticing thought, but probably not a good idea. Ollie and Lucy might be okay with it – but that doesn’t mean they’d want to listen to it.

  ‘No. I’ll come round to you, about three tomorrow. Stick to the naked thing, though. That works for me.’

  I thought my face might break in two I was smiling so wide. What a day.

  Chapter 30

  ‘One day, when you’re older and have kids of your own, you’ll need me again you know – for babysitting.’

  I waved a fork at Ollie triumphantly – I don’t know why; all I’d done was establish that, for the next twenty years, he probably wouldn’t need me at all. It was lunchtime, and we were eating together in the open-air restaurant. He’d just told me he’d be AWOL for the night as he was off with the Ginger Twins, who’d also returned to the Blue Bay.

  ‘Don’t be daft, Mum,’ he said. ‘By the time I have kids, I’ll be able to download a babysitter from my phone, or buy one from the Apple store. Sorry, but you’re completely obsolete.’

  I stared at him. Maybe he was right. One day, he’ll even be capable of washing his own socks. Ollie laughed out loud, and said ‘Gotcha!’, pointing a finger at me.

  ‘You think you’re a funny fuck, don’t you, Ollie? Well, you’re not.’

  ‘I’m not?’

  ‘No, you’re not funny at all.’

  ‘Oh. So I’m just a fuck then, is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘Yep, that’s about the size of it…what are you up to with them, anyway? Something exciting?’

  He pulled a bit of a face and explained probably not, ’cause Christian had gone all girl-mad and was intent on pulling Rosie, this new ‘chick’ who’d arrived the day before.

  ‘What’s she like?’ I asked.

  ‘She’s all right, if you like that kind of thing – blonde, pretty, you know. Not my type, though.’

  ‘Oh? What is your type? Carin? Christian?’

  Ollie sighed, and put his knife and fork down. ‘Mum, I’m not gay…don’t interrupt! Yes, I know it would be perfectly all right if I was. I know you wouldn’t mind. I know you’d be great about it – you’ve been letting me know that since I was a kid, and you probably even think you’ve been subtle. But stop – you don’t need to make me feel comfortable with it, ’cause I’m not gay. If I fancied boys, I’d tell you, okay? I don’t. I fancy girls.’

  Oh. Well. That straightened that up, so to speak. He was right – I did always tag on a slightly probing reference at the end of sentences. What a very silly mummy I was.

  ‘Okay…well, that’s fine. It’s just that…I never see you take any interest in girls…’

  ‘Or boys, I hope,’ he said. ‘Mum, I’m really not that bothered yet. I know I’m sixteen next month and maybe I’ve got a bad case of arrested development, but at the moment girls are friends. Some of them are nice to look at. That’s it. I’m not like Dad – I don’t think with my dick. Is that enough for you? Or do you want to know who I masturbate about at night?’

  ‘No! God no! That’s more than enough, thanks…sorry, Ollie,’ I said, reaching out to give his arm a sneaky pat. My lovely boy.

  ‘Right,’ he said, standing up and stretching – he was up to six foot now and still growing. I sometimes wondered how his skinny body didn’t collapse in on itself.

  ‘I’m off then – going to chill with my girlfriends and boyfriends. If I find myself sexually attracted to any of them, I’ll let you know. I’ve been reading those Mills & Boons of yours, I know the signs. Anyway, Jake’s in kids’ club – I thought you’d have better things to be up to yourself,’ he said with a knowing smirk. Sometimes it was hard to figure out who was the teenager in our relationship.

  He was right, actually – I did have better things to be doing. I had a hot date with the hottest man in Hotsville. I’d been sunbathing all morning and had a nice warm glow going on. My tan was halfway to chocolate, my dark hair was shining, and my mind was already rolling around in a mud bath of filth.

  I had plenty of time to go back to the room, shower, rub in lotions and potions and lie in front of the mirror naked, trying to see what gravity did to my body in different sexual positions.

  I was pondering this rare burst of luxury when Jenny appeared by the side of the table, plonking herself down and sloshing coffee all over the place. Her normally glowing skin was verging on the gray, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She had her T-shirt on inside out and her short dark hair was plastered to one side of her head.

  ‘God,’ she said, gulping down the caffeine, ‘I feel like poo. Allie was really going for it last night. I literally can’t believe how much that woman can put away.’

  ‘Ah,’ I replied, sympathetically. ‘You m
ade the mistake of trying to keep up, did you?’

  ‘I did. Schoolgirl error. Allie’s on a mission this year. I’ve only just got up, Ian’s still in bed, and I missed my Pilates class.’

  She was right. Allie was on a mission this year – a mission, it seemed, to give every guest at the hotel their worst hangovers ever. I screwed my eyes up a little, feeling a twitch of anxiety about it.

  ‘Do you think she’s okay?’ I asked. ‘Allie?’

  Jenny paused mid-slurp, and thought about it. It looked like it hurt.

  ‘I don’t know. She’s definitely more party animal than she’s been before. Maybe we should just keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t go water ski-ing when she’s tanked up or anything?’

  I nodded. That sounded like a plan.

  ‘Good,’ I replied. ‘Now I need to leave you alone with your misery, and head up back to my room. Take paracetamol and stay out of the sun.’

  She laid her head flat on the table, groaned, and waved goodbye as I left. I was off for a pampering session.

  The plan was a teensy bit spoiled by the fact that Lucy was there. I’d expected her to be out with Max at this time of day, but she was lounging around, writing in her journal and eating grapes. What a life.

  ‘Hi!’ I shouted through the interconnecting door.

  ‘Dear Diary,’ she said, in a loud stage voice, ‘today my mother was even more irritating than usual, ruining my perfect moment of solitude and blocking all natural light with her big fat arse…’

  I slammed the door shut. Cow. One day, she’d put on an ounce of weight, and when she did, I’d…probably console her and tell her she’s gorgeous. Because I am a much nicer person than she is. So was Stalin, and Genghis Khan and Vlad the Impaler.

  I got into the shower, and tried to put her out of my mind. I replaced her with James, who was a much more appropriate shower companion.

  By the time I got out, I was smiling and happy again. Sadly, she was still there.

  ‘Mum,’ she said, ‘you know Max is starting at Oxford in October? Can he come and stay with us for a few days again beforehand?’

  ‘Yes of course he can. So…still going strong then?’

  She shrugged, faking nonchalance. ‘S’pose so, yeah. But hopefully next year I’ll be off to uni in Liverpool, so we’ll see what happens. Okay. There’s my soul all exposed. Your turn – and I have a question to ask. What happens after this holiday? Are you going to carry on seeing James? Because I’m not moving to fucking Dublin just so you can keep getting your menopausal end away, you know.’

  Charming as ever. I don’t remember girl-talks being like this when I was younger. When I was a teenager I spoke to my mother about nothing more overtly sexual than the fact that we both liked Ronan Keating’s hair.

  ‘Nobody’s moving anywhere, Luce. And I’m not menopausal.’

  I’d been rubbing cream into my legs, but I put the pot down and sat next to her. Lucy might display all the tenderness of a pickaxe to the skull, but she also had a habit of getting straight to the point.

  ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen after this holiday. After what happened with Dad, I’m not that confident. I really like James and, to be honest, I’m a bit scared of it all. So there. Go on then – do your worst with that.’

  I was expecting a tirade of abuse or hysterical laughter, but for a fraction of a second her face softened. She looked almost…human. It must have been a trick of the light.

  ‘Dad behaved like a prick, Mum. I know I blamed you at the time, but the last year, in the house with just us, it’s been fine. It’s been better. Let’s face it, there’s only room for one prima donna in our lives, and that’s me – he was always way too much competition, with his cologne collection and tie rack and never-ending stories about his surgical brilliance…wanker. But the thing with James? You should talk to him about it. That’s what you always tell me to do when I’m worried about something with Max. When are you seeing him next?’

  ‘In about an hour. But I don’t plan on doing much talking—’

  ‘Shut up! Shut up right now! I don’t need to know the details. When are you next going out alone, then; somewhere your hideous geriatric sex drives won’t get the better of you?’

  ‘Night after tomorrow. Jake’s at the video club. We’re going for dinner.’

  ‘Well what you need is a plan. If you could ask him anything, what would it be?’

  ‘I don’t know – how he feels about me? What he wants to happen next? Whether we’ll see each other again? That type of stuff.’

  ‘Yeah. Predictably lame,’ she said, back to normal. ‘You always tell me to be honest and discuss my feelings. In fact I get sick of hearing that particular gem. So why not be a big girl for once and follow your own advice?’

  Chapter 31

  ‘Fancy a shag?’ I said, as he opened the door. Well, why mess with a classic?

  ‘Come in, Sally. Nice to see you too,’ he said.

  He’d obviously just had a shower himself. His hair was tousled and damp, and he smelled of that gorgeous spicy stuff that always makes me want to sniff him. He was wearing nothing but a clean white towel, hanging low on his hips and loosely knotted. I could have that off with my teeth in two seconds flat.

  I let my eyes roam up and down his body, drinking it all in. I couldn’t believe my luck – he was perfect; all taut golden muscle and hard edges. I also couldn’t believe he wanted me as much as I wanted him. Against the odds, that seemed to be the case, and it was turning me into a shameless floozie. I reached out to trace the contours of his chest, whispering the palms of my hands over his nipples.

  ‘You really are a fine physical specimen, Mr Carver,’ I said, pushing him back so he was leaning against the wall.

  ‘Are we playing doctors and nurses?’ he asked.

  ‘Just doctors. And it’s time for an examination. Let’s have a look at you then…Yes, magnificent deltoids,’ I said, reaching up to caress the broad expanse of his shoulders, then his drool-inspiring arms. ‘Mmm. Nicely bulging biceps. And then we come back to pectoralis major, one of my personal favourites.’ I leaned forward to kiss his chest, then let both my hands roam downwards to the solid wall of his stomach. The towel was starting to twitch, like a magic trick in an X-rated stage show.

  I leaned in close, put my arms around him, and massaged the ridge of muscle at the top of his back. ‘All very satisfying in the trapezius area…solid lats…Now let’s do the rest of you…’

  I ran one of my hands down his side, then slipped it under the bottom edge of the towel. He spread his legs obligingly and I stroked his inner thigh, downy with hair. He was quivering under my touch. I knelt down in front of him, and the magic towel almost poked me in the eye. I untied it and let it drop to the floor. Oh yes. A fine physical specimen indeed. My hands got busy to his rear, enjoying the firm curves of those world-beating glutes, and my mouth got busy on the equally impressive front view.

  He slouched back against the wall, groaning slightly as I licked and sucked, encouraging him on with my hands on his backside. When I could feel the pressure building along the ridge of his penis, and knew he was near to coming, I ran my tongue around him once more then pulled away. I looked up at him, and saw the mist clear from his eyes.

  ‘Fuck,’ he said, pulling me up so I was facing him, ‘were you trained in a bordello or what?’

  He threw me back on to the bed, and pulled my top off over my head. The skirt quickly followed, and I kicked off the sandals myself. I’d taken the sensible precaution of wearing no underwear at all, and had lived in fear of a sharp breeze on the walk over.

  He smiled as he saw me naked, then climbed on top of me and kissed me, letting his hands roam down over my sides, my hips, and slowly back up to my neck. My breasts were crushed up against his chest, and he felt deliciously heavy along the line of my body. I was clinging on to his back, and spread my legs wide, more than ready for nature to take its course by that stage.

  He paused for a seco
nd and looked at me, blue eyes luminous in the dim, curtained light.

  ‘Are you okay with this?’ he asked.

  I responded by thrusting my hips up to meet his, and squirming around until the angle was just right. I nodded. The time for talking was gone, and he pushed himself inside me, hard.

  At first it was a shock – he was big, and I am a born-again virgin after all – but that passed in the blink of an eye. He put his hands under my bottom, raising me slightly so he could go even deeper. So deep I thought he might come out the other side. It felt wonderful.

  I reached up to twine my fingers into his hair and pull his mouth down for a kiss. It was hard and hungry and turned me on even more. He grabbed my wrists, held my arms back over my head, moving so fast and with such a rhythm I could feel tingles pulsing between my legs as our sweat and flesh mingled together. A second before it happened, I realised I was about to come. It came as quite a shock, and I held on to his hands so hard I left crescent-moon marks with my fingernails. I felt my muscles squeezing hard around him as I climaxed, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

  Afterwards he fell on top of me in a damp, lifeless heap. His head rested on my chest and his breath was coming in hot gasps. I stroked his hair and wrapped my legs over his derrière to keep him inside me for a few moments more.

  ‘That’s never happened to me before,’ I said.

  ‘What do you mean? That happened to you on the island. A few times at least,’ he replied, his voice muffled against my boobs.

  ‘No. I mean that’s never happened to me during sex-sex before. Sometimes in the bit before sex, sometimes after, but never actually during…I didn’t think it was possible.’

  He looked up from his nest of breasts, hair spiked up all over the place and eyes shining.