by Monica Belle
I called him up, suggesting a drink, and spent the rest of the day worrying about it, and why relationships always have to get complicated. Sophie was up for coming with me, but I turned her down. It was good to know she was game for more, because that was crucial to my plan and gave me the perfect in once Niall and I were sitting in the back bar of the Lord Ranleagh with our drinks in our hands.
‘Sophie says hi, and thanks for last night.’
He gave a low chuckle and I went on.
‘She’d be up for more, if you are, and so would I.’
‘Am I? I am, and no question.’
‘Maybe Bobbie too, all three of us together, like you first wanted.’
He blew his breath out.
‘All three? Oh yes . . . now when would this be? This weekend, perhaps?’
‘Perhaps, yes.’
I took a sip of whiskey, feigning nervousness, before I spoke again.
‘What would you like best? Perhaps, to watch two of us while –’
‘Jesus, yes, the two them together, while we fuck, now wouldn’t that be something?’
‘Yes it would. Of course, what we really need is another guy.’
‘Another guy? When you have Niall Flynn, lover, you don’t need another guy.’
‘No? Would you like to watch somebody fuck Sophie or Bobbie?’
‘Not on your life! What would I want to see another guy for?’
‘No more than I’d want to see another girl. It’s still sex.’
‘What’s that? You were well off on Bobbie.’
I shrugged, not wanting to deny it, cautious of the edge of distaste in his voice. He took a mouthful of Guinness, and was going to say something, but I got in first, determined to carry on.
‘It would be fairer with more than one guy, and that’s the thing. It’s a lot better with more guys than girls. I mean, it’s easy for a girl to keep two guys happy, but not so easy the other way around. Just think, Bobbie and Sophie and I could have you and five mates, all at once. Nobody need lose out Wouldn’t that be good, Niall, fucking me while I sucked on one of your mates’ cocks? I’d like that.’
I saw him hesitate. He wanted to say something, maybe to point out that nobody else was allowed to touch me, even see me, but he knew my temper, and wasn’t going to spoil his chances of three girls in bed together. When he did answer, it was in an uncomfortable mutter.
‘You’re mine, that’s all. Do you not want it to be that way?’
I back-peddled hastily, then went for the big one.
‘Of course! You get to call the shots, always, but you’ve got to admit, it’s hardly fair if you’re allowed to play with my friends but I’m not allowed to play with yours.’
‘Ah, that’s the same. You girls, you’re well into each other. It’s natural.’
‘Natural? Says who?’
‘Ah, but come on, you see it all the time, girls together. You think nothing of doing stuff together and that.’
‘What stuff?’
‘Stuff. Kissing and that, and you’re always on about how so and so has a pretty face, or nice knockers, or a neat arse. You won’t see me saying your Ryan’s got a nice arse now, will you?’
I had to laugh, and that made him laugh too, breaking the tension.
‘No, I suppose not, but that’s not the point. I’m not saying you should play with other guys, just that if you want to shag my girlfriends, then I should be allowed a free choice too. Isn’t that fair?’
He nodded thoughtfully, took another swallow of Guinness and then spoke.
‘I see how it is, then. You’re not happy with me putting it to your friends, and I respect that. So what say, you go with them, and I’ll get my kicks from watching, but when it comes to cock time, I’m yours, and you’re mine.’
It was not the outcome I’d intended.
‘No, really, I don’t mind you shagging them. I like it. I just think it should work both ways, that’s all.’
He shook his head.
‘I can’t. You know I can’t, Lucy. It’s not that I don’t want to please you, but you have to understand, that’s the way men are. It’s the same with gorillas, and lions and that. I was watching this nature programme, the other night, and . . .’
The word ‘bollocks’ was trembling on my lips as he went on to explain why it was perfectly OK for females to share their men but not the other way around. I could feel my temper rising, because he was being completely and utterly unfair, but for once in my life I held back, biting my lip as he finished.
‘So you see,’ he rounded up. ‘It’s not my choice. It’s nature.’
I nodded and swallowed the rest of my whiskey. He emptied his own and picked both up, began to stand and then turned to me.
‘You’re not sore at Niall, now, are you? Not my Lucy?’
He kissed me, and as I responded he licked the tip of my nose and darted quickly back out of reach. I kicked out, missing his leg by an inch, but I was laughing, and I couldn’t help myself.
‘You bastard!’
Niall responded with one of his best looks, humorous but masterful too, then he turned and made for the bar. Clearly he was well pleased with himself, convinced he’d got me just where he wanted me. He was right too, in a way, because for all my determination, at an emotional level I didn’t want to lose him. That didn’t mean I had to give up. I was ready for him when he came back.
‘OK, you great pig, you get your way, for now. I’ll see if Bobbie and Sophie are up for Saturday. Just a shame these things can’t last, isn’t?’
‘Can’t last? And why would that be? I can last, and no trouble there.’
‘No, not like that, but you know how people are. Now we’re serious, and not using precautions, we’ll have to make it official. Everyone’ll know, and we’ll have to watch what we do.’
‘Sure. I’m not suggesting an orgy round at your mam’s!’
‘You know what I mean, Niall. There’s no way we could get up to that stuff, not with a family. You’d need a bigger house too, because I want at least three kids, maybe more.’
‘Hold up there a minute, love. Aren’t we getting a bit ahead of ourselves here?’
‘Not really, no. If I’m pregnant, we’ll have to get married before I start to show, say in October or November at the latest, and obviously we’d want to move straight into the new house, as soon as it’s properly decorated anyway. Just think, we can have everything we want . . . a huge bathroom with a power shower, and a Jacuzzi. I’ll design everything, of course, ’cos you’re sure to make a mess. We’ll need a complete new kitchen as well, ’cos my family are sure to be around all the time, and yours too. You know what your Mum’s like.’
As I’d suspected, he hadn’t thought it through and, if I was exaggerating, then not by much.
‘Hold on! Holy Jesus, Lucy, will you take it a step at a time? I’ve a mortgage to pay on my place as it is, and the prices they’re asking you wouldn’t believe.’
‘Oh, come on, Niall! You’ve your own business to borrow against, and interest rates are low. We can afford it. You want to make me happy, don’t you, Niall?’
‘Of course I do, my lover, but we have to go slowly, that’s all.’
I nodded thoughtfully.
‘You’re right. I’m sorry. Best to take it slowly. Once I’m through uni we’ll have a double income and we can do it properly. For now, let’s stay as free spirits, and not make a big deal of it to the families. That means you get to play with my friends, too.’
He grinned and ruffled my hair. I hadn’t actually said it meant I got to play with other men too, but the implication was there, because I’d never back off from the idea that he wasn’t being fair. I’d won, sort of. I certainly hadn’t lost.
I nuzzled up against him, sipping my whiskey and thinking of Saturday night.
I was happy for it to happen, more than happy. There was something deliciously improper about sex with more than one person at the same time, which added a lot to the pleasure. OK,
so in an ideal world it would have been three men and me, or maybe six men, Bobbie, Sophie and me, but only an idiot leaves a fiver on the ground because there’s a tenner in the bank.
Friday morning I was hoping I’d be with Sophie again, and perhaps with Bobbie too. I’d stayed late at Niall’s after a quick knee-trembler in the park on the way home from the pub, with me pushed up against a tree with my skirt up and my knickers pulled aside. He’d come, I hadn’t, and I’d wanted it, so gave him a long, slow striptease and a longer, slower suck back at his house. He had me on his lap, sitting on him, naked with his cock inside me as I played with myself. We’d had an attack of the munchies afterwards and made ourselves bacon sarnies and, by the time he’d walked me home, it had been nearly two.
Mrs Maryam Smith rang at eight to tell me I was back in Tilbury. There wasn’t a hope in hell of making it on time, and the rest of the morning was pure panic, rushing around madly. Once I’d got there, I was desperately trying to catch up with the work that needed to be done. The job in Wandsworth had boring but OK because I’d been with Sophie. Tilbury was far harder, and no fun at all, except for flirting with the warehouse men.
I rang Sophie at lunchtime, to tell her what had happened and suggest going out on the Saturday, drinking in the West End, then back to her place or Bobbie’s, if it felt right. She agreed, giggling happily at the prospect of another session with Niall, and promised to tell Bobbie too. I ended the call feeling excited, but just a little put out. It was going to be good, but it could have been so much better if only Niall had been less stuffy about other men.
After lunch, work continued as before, only made easier by the warm glow of a double Bushmills inside me. A lorry had come in during my break, and half the cargo was already stacked, meaning that once I’d done my labels I had to scale a huge ladder on wheels to get at the crates. I knew full well that when I was on top the lads could see up my skirt, but they seemed to appreciate the view and there wasn’t a lot I could do about it anyway, except keep my knees together. What I didn’t expect was for all six of them to gather round at the bottom of the ladder with mugs of tea, adding the chance of a peep at my knickers to the perquisites of their three o’clock break. I picked up one of the smaller packages, heavy, though, with ‘Fragile – China’ printed on every side, and poised it above their heads.
‘Oi, you boys, bugger off or I’ll drop it,’ I threatened.
Three moved back, the others held their ground. The foreman, Dave, answered, half serious, half mocking.
‘Careful, love, they’ll take that off your wages.’
I stuck my tongue out, but put it back. They knew full well I wouldn’t have dropped it. All six of them were now looking up, a half circle of grinning idiots. One of them spoke up, Paul, a hefty ginger-haired guy with tats on both arms.
‘Come on, love, give us a peep. You’re skirt’s too tight to see properly.’
‘Just as well, you cheeky bastard! Fuck off, the lot of you!’
‘Go on, just a peep,’ he persisted.
‘What you got on, one of them thongs?’
‘I like thongs, right up the bum, eh?’
‘Nah, those big white ones, like what schoolgirls wear.’
‘You’re a pervert, John.’
‘You’re all perverts,’ I protested. ‘Now fuck off, the lot of you!’
They just laughed. Paul spoke again.
‘Give us a flash, then we’ll go.’
I responded with the finger, but eventually I was going to have to climb onto the shelf and they’d get a flash anyway. With a deliberate sigh I turned around and quickly twitched up the back of my skirt, flashing the seat of my knickers for just a second. There was an immediate chorus of approval.
‘Nice!’
‘Red, I like red.’
‘Nice arse, love.’
‘Yeah, cheeky.’
‘Show us some more, yeah?’
‘No, you said you’d go!’
Paul just laughed, but Dave responded, turning to the others.
‘Fair’s fair, lads, we did say. Time to get back to work anyway.’
They nodded, reluctant, but began to disperse, with only the youngest, George, pausing to throw up a final comment.
‘They’re going to love that in security, Luce.’
I instantly realised what he meant. Every one of the long isles between the shelving had a security camera pointed down it, and I’d just given ours a prime view of my knickers, which would have been transmitted directly to the bank of screens in the security booth. For some weird reason it was far more embarrassing than showing off to the warehouse men, and I found myself blushing, which drew a laugh from Paul as George shared the joke.
As I climbed onto the shelving I was feeling very odd, embarrassed but turned on, and powerful too, with six men, eight including security, with their tongues lolling out of their heads just for a glimpse of my underwear. It was amusing, and quite horny, while I could tell myself that my reaction to the camera was just silly, especially as I couldn’t see the two hulking oafs employed as security guards reporting me for flashing.
I got on with my work, quickly bored by the routine of searching out each case according to its reference number and fixing the appropriate label to the side. It wasn’t the first time I’d had to work on the upper shelves, but it was the first time I’d had to actually climb in among the crates, which felt weird. I was completely isolated, working in gaps between the crates, invisible to everybody and inaccessible except by ladder. The top level was the loneliest of all, with the roof just a few feet above my head.
It was dusty, and strangely quiet, both things adding to my sense of isolation. By the time I was halfway through the labelling I was even wondering if it might not be fun to have a sneaky wank, which would be deliciously naughty, and rebellious too. Mrs Henshaw had been giving me a hard time all day, and the thought of her outrage alone was almost enough to make me do it. I nearly did, but a noise from somewhere below made me chicken out.
I finished the labelling, which I was beginning to get down to a fine art, and made my way back through the huge wooden crates I’d been working on, to find the ladder gone. There was an immediate sense of vertigo, which left me clinging onto a stanchion with my stomach fluttering. It had to be nearly thirty feet to the ground, and no way was I climbing down.
My first thought was that somebody else had needed the ladder and had rolled it away not realising that I was among the crates, before I saw it, at the end of the row. I also saw Paul and George standing by it, grinning. I shook my head.
‘Very funny. Now could your bring the ladder back, please?’
They exchanged a look and shook their heads, still grinning.
‘Come on, guys, stop clowning around!’
George sniggered. Paul spoke.
‘First you’ve got to show us your tits.’
‘Yeah, right, with the security guys ogling me? I don’t think so.’
George responded.
‘You’re up for it, then?’
‘No, I am not!’
‘You said, if the security guys weren’t watching . . .’
‘No, I . . .’
‘Come on, love, just a peek.’
‘Just put the ladder back, you bastards! I’ll . . .’
I was going to say I’d tell Mrs Henshaw, but I didn’t want to. The miserable old cow was sure to have a go at me as well as them, and it would leave me seriously unpopular. I tried another tactic.
‘Come on, guys, be fair. I’m getting dizzy up here.’
George was going to push the ladder forward. Not Paul.
‘Quick flash then you get the ladder, not much to ask, eh?’
‘Oh, for goodness sake. You’re a pervert, Paul, you know that, don’t you?’
As I’d spoken I’d been tugging the front of my blouse out of my skirt, after stepping back between the crates to make sure I was clear of the camera. Their eyes went wide with satisfaction as they realised I was going to do
it, and George’s tongue flicked out to moisten his lips as I tugged my blouse up. Taking hold of my bra I cocked my head to one side, doing my best to sound disapproving as I spoke.
‘OK, you little perverts, here you are.’
I flipped my bra up and held it, letting them drink in the sight of my bare breasts. They were staring, Paul open mouthed, George biting his lip, to bring back my sense of power. They might have the ladder, but I had the tits. I was laughing at them when I finally covered up, after making sure they’d both had a good stare. George turned a lewd grin to Paul.
‘Nice, huh?’
‘Nice. I knew she’d do it.’
‘Yes, she did it. Now could you push the ladder back, please?’
It was my best school ma’m imitation, patient yet firm. I might as well have tried to give orders to a pair of bricks. Paul sucked his breath in. George smirked.
‘One more time.’
‘Oh, for goodness sake!’
I flipped my bra up again, putting on an expression of patient suffering somewhat given the lie by my erect nipples. They noticed, inevitably.
‘Perky, ain’t she?’
‘And some. Getting horny, are we love?’
‘No I am not! Now come on, I’ve kept my side of the bargain, so bring me the ladder.’
Again George was going to push the ladder forward, but stopped as Paul tugged on his shirt. Paul whispered something, too quiet for me to catch. George returned a doubtful look, then shrugged. Paul grinned. Both glanced up at me. I quickly put my breasts away. George gave a muted snigger as Paul whispered something else. Paul looked up at me.
‘How about a blow-job then?’
For a moment I couldn’t speak for sheer indignation. Then I threw a shoe at him.
‘Put that ladder back now, you bastard! What, you think I’m going to suck you off, on camera!’
‘You’d do it if we weren’t on camera then, yeah?’
‘No I wouldn’t, you dirty sod!’
Unfortunately I couldn’t keep the giggles out of my voice. He held his ground, grinning as he spoke again.
‘Come on, love, in among the crates where nobody can see. You’ve got me so horny you wouldn’t believe.’
‘Oh, so just because you get horny over me I have to satisfy you?’