by Brogan, Kim
He had been daydreaming about fucking her all day. When he did his pants would tighten as his bulge grew. More than once he found himself unable to leave his desk because he had half a hard-on and couldn’t stand.
Campbell wanted the cotton top off—now. Kicking off his shoes and socks, he dropped his trousers to reveal a very willing erection pushing against the blue jersey boxers.
Maggie stripped down to her bra and panties, turning to help Campbell take his shirt off. Once he was bare-chested, his toned body on display, his purposeful fingers slipped up, fondling her breast through her bra. In turn, Maggie stroked him through his boxers, the erection growing firmer under her touch.
Campbell’s eyes closed to take in everything, to let the sensations shoot through him. He could smell her new perfume, her sweet body odor, the strawberry smell of her shampoo. Campbell loved how smooth and soft she felt when they touched. Reaching down the back of her panties, he took the cool, smooth cheek of her ass into his hand, pulling her closer into his body. Maggie thrust her hips into his erection as she slowly stroked him, the touch of her hand and willing body more than he could take.
As the passion overwhelmed him, Campbell snapped the latch on the lace bra and tugged her panties down in one swift move, revealing the smooth, white skin of her naked body.
Maggie was just as excited, wet from Campbell’s fevered touches. She loved when he made her feel as if he had to have her at that very instant. Rolling onto his back, her eyes fixed on the mixture of deep brown and gray hair on his chest. Past his belly button was a dark trail of hair leading down to his genitals. It was incredibly sexy, making her tingle with desire. He motioned for her to ride him.
She guided him inside of her as he watched like a voyeur. When Campbell slipped inside, he closed his eyes and pushed up to fill her completely. His hands latched onto the cheeks of her ass, grabbing her flesh to push her up and down while he thrust upwards. Maggie started to meet his thrusts with equal force. Her breasts danced up and down in front of him, enticing him to touch them. Pulling her down, he took her breast in her mouth and began to suck.
The rhythm remained steady, building to a crescendo that caused both of them to reach orgasm together, her vagina contracting, causing the friction of his thrusts to increase the intensity of his orgasm. Maggie’s pleasurable moans quickly turned into a scream of fear.
Campbell looked up and saw the form of a person in the bedroom with them. His body couldn’t stop, he continued with the last of his thrusts and ejaculation, holding Maggie firmly on him as she struggled to get off.
He finished, quickly rolling over releasing Maggie who grabbed the duvet. Campbell looked up and shook his head angrily, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Gemma stood, smirking, disgusted, “Oh, this is rich. You and a bloody American. You really have reached the depth of despair. I never thought you would shag an American, not the way you rant about them.” Gemma turned to Maggie. “You know, he’s just using you to try and make me jealous. He thinks that someday I’ll come whimpering back to him.”
Campbell stood up, not bothering to hide the fact that he was naked. “You can’t just barge into my house. You don’t live here anymore!”
“I want my pearls for the Hunter’s Ball.” Her voice started to strain with emotion, “They were my grandmother’s pearls, Campbell, you know what they mean to me.”
“I don’t have them.” He said firmly.
“You’re lying, I know you have them.”
“Get out! Now!”
“Fine, I’ll get out.” She walked by the vase that Maggie had bought, pointing at it. She pointed at it. Gemma started to laugh. “This is hideous! My God Campbell, when did you become so pedestrian in your tastes? Where did you buy it? Boots?” She picked it up and, whether on purpose or accident, it slipped through her fingers, crashing to the floor. “Oops.”
Seeing her obvious glee, Campbell was livid. “My God, you are a cow.”
“You’re so up yourself. You need to find yourself a real English woman who can give you a proper shag.”
The room suddenly went quiet as they silently glared at each other. Maggie sat still, unwilling to join the fray.
“Get out Gemma. Just get out.” He was calm and adamant. Maggie thought his calmness was scarier than all the ranting and tirades. His demeanor sent chills down her spine. When Gemma was gone, Campbell turned, looked at Maggie with frustration and disappeared into the bathroom.
Maggie got a broom and dustpan and began cleaning up the shattered vase. Surprisingly, she was glad that Gemma had broken it because she wasn’t sure she could stand seeing it in the room after Gemma’s cruel description of it. Campbell came out of the bathroom and started picking up some of the larger pieces. They were both squatting down when they looked up into each other’s eyes.
“Maggie, I’m sorry.”
Maggie said softly, “I didn’t hear the door. She must still have a key. Can’t you get the key back or change the locks?” She searched his face for some sign that he wanted an end to this game of theirs.
“I’ll get the key back from her.”
Judging from the look on his face and the tone of his voice, Maggie didn’t believe him. He wasn’t ready to take that step, to cut Gemma off completely. Maggie felt anxious, as if something more than the vase had just broken.
Chapter 6
Getting to Know You
Campbell and I became rather domestic those three weeks before class started. We had a blast making love all over the house at the drop of a hat. We cooked together, played whist, watched movies, went cycling, took long walks and slept wrapped up in each other’s arms. It was strange though. He didn’t invite anyone over for drinks, dinner or tea. We had lots of long talks and I found out a lot about the privileged upper class in England. Campbell, Fiona, and Henry had attended private schools their entire lives, ending up at Trinity College here in Cambridge for medical school. They spent their summers in Europe, America, Australia or wherever their whims sent them, but usually they all went together.
I didn’t see Henry or Fiona or Peter anyone in those three weeks. I thought they were on holiday since the British frequently take their vacations during the month of August. I soon found out that I was mistaken.
It was a Sunday and we had just come back from grocery shopping. We were taking the groceries down to the kitchen while debating the cause of the Revolutionary War when Campbell hit the play button on the answering machine.
I recognized Fiona’s voice right away, “Cam, I tried your cell, but you didn’t pick up. It’s Fi; I just got back from the Winthrop’s Kew Gardens Party. I can’t believe you missed it this year. You never miss it! Where were you? Henry says that he invites you to the pub and even invited you to the annual weekend in Southwald, but you turned him down. We’re worried about you—afraid that you’re spiraling down over Gemma again. Please ring me and let me know how you are.”
He looked over at me rather sheepishly, and then listened to several messages from the hospital before erasing all of them. We put the groceries away in silence. I prepared bangers and mash for dinner at Campbell’s request although I find British sausages to be rather tasteless. We sat down at the dinner table and he looked over at me, bracing for what I was going to ask.
“It’s me, isn’t it? You don’t want them to know that you’re going out with an American do you? You’ve cut yourself off just so they don’t know that I’m staying here.”
“Mags, it’s not what you think. I did tell them that you were staying here, but I didn’t tell them we were sleeping together. I’m not ashamed of you; I’m ashamed of them. If we had gone, Henry and Fiona would have been great, they’d understand. But, my other friends would have taken the Mickey out of both of us. They aren’t fond of Americans and you would have been the brunt of their wit all weekend long. You’d be miserable.”
I wasn’t convinced it was me he was concerned about. “Don’t you mean that you’d be miserable?”
He looked at me and then away. “Perhaps. It would be painful for me to see them make you the brunt of their humor. It’s very biting and acerbic.”
“No, I mean, you’d be miserable because you brought someone that would be the brunt of jokes—you’d be embarrassed.”
“Mags, you’re wonderful. But why subject yourself to their vitriolic humor?”
“Because they are your friends and I’m dating you.” I put it out there. I wanted to see how he would respond to the idea that we were a couple. He looked uncomfortable, his eyes darting away, his hands in his pockets, and his mouth pinched tight.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, the British are not that fond of foreigners, especially our American cousins. We find your naiveté about the world annoying, especially since you’re a superpower. We’re overrun by Americans in the summer and they’re loud, pushy, and think that, because they’re American, we should be falling all over ourselves to take care of them. It’s your attitude that you are entitled that makes us balmy.”
“Campbell, you know so little about Americans. What we expect is service that we’re paying for and we won’t take less. I’ve discovered here that the customer is always wrong and you’re lucky if you can get anyone to help you that don’t look like they’re passing gas. And as for naiveté, we may not seem to know that much about world politics, but from what I hear out of your mouth and other Brits, you know very little about Americans. Everything you know is out of a Scorsese movie.”
He paused and shrugged. “If we’re still dating the next time I get invited to a weekend away, I promise to take you.”
I sat back, “If? You don’t sound too optimistic.”
He sat down too and I could tell from his expression that he was about to tell me something important. “When it comes to relationships, I don’t take anything for granted and I certainly never count my chickens.”
The air between us was so thick; I decided to call it a stalemate.
“Fair enough.”
Later he went into the library and made a phone call. I suspected he was talking to Fiona. I wanted to listen to the call, but I had more class than that—barely.
While he was on the phone, I went up and took a shower and when I came out he was lying on the bed reading. He looked up at me and put his arm out, “Come here.” I climbed up on the bed, snuggling in his arm with my head on his chest. He kissed the top of my head and continued to read as I fell asleep.
When I was with Campbell we seemed to have a great time. We were always laughing and teasing each other. Our sex was great and we didn’t fight, at least not much. When we did, we quickly made up and were soon back to joking with each other. But, I kept feeling like I was the summer fling, here to entertain him for the summer and then, when school started, he’d make excuses not to see me. He never said anything that would make me think that; it was just the odd things that made me feel that way.
Campbell didn’t invite his friends over and we didn’t go out with them. He didn’t talk about his family and he didn’t tell his family about me. There was never any discussion about the future as if I was going to be in it. He didn’t share his feelings and, more importantly, he never changed the locks or retrieved the key from Gemma.
On the other hand, he might have been so burned by his relationship with Gemma that he couldn’t bring himself to make any commitments; no matter how small they were, until he was sure. If that were the case, then I just needed to be patient.
It was the Thursday and I was supposed to start school the following Monday. At the beginning of the week, Campbell had invited me for a weekend in Hay on Wye, the little hamlet known for having dozens of used and new book stores. I had said something about wanting to go when we first met and he had remembered.
“I wasn’t sure you were telling the truth. Not many Americans come over and dream of going to a town full of book stores. But it is one of my favorite places so I thought I could take Friday off and we go for a weekend to Hay on Wye.”
I squealed, “Oh wow, that would be great! I’m so excited!” I hesitated, “Damn, I have to ask for the day off.”
I managed to get Friday off. We were going to leave early Friday morning so that we could get to Hay on Wye, shop a little and then have lunch.
Thursday night, on my way back to Campbell’s, I decided to stop and get some champagne. I brought a cold bottle home and walked in just as Campbell was getting home too. We started kissing on the door step and after getting his medical bag, jacket and bike through the door, we went upstairs.
“I’ve been looking forward to this weekend all day.” He said as he undid his tie and untied his shoes. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten away.”
I was taking my skirt off, smiling like a four year old going to Disneyland. “Me too. I’m so excited. Books, books and more books!’
“I thought we’d stop off at Stratford-Upon-Avon on the way home.”
I clapped with delight and he laughed at me. We fell on the bed naked and began to fondle each other, both of us familiar with what turned the other on. After we were both huffing and puffing, he stood up, pulled my legs to the edge of the bed, and entered me standing up. It was so erotic, looking up at him with his beautiful face and nicely defined arms. I stared at the trail of hair leading from his belly button down to where we were joined. He was holding my hips up and I had my legs wrapped around his waist. When he came his face screwed up as if he was in pain.
“Ahh, ahhhh, ahhhh. God, oh, oh. Yes, yes.” He let out his breath when it was over and fell, sweaty and hot over to my side. Without hesitation, Campbell’s fingers began to pleasure me, bringing me to climax quickly. We crashed back onto the fluffy pillows, exhausted.
After dinner we were in the parlor watching an old episode of Dr. Who on television when I felt his hand going up my thigh. “Dr. Adair, are you back in the saddle?”
He grinned.
“That was a quick recovery.” I tilted my head and gave him my best little girl look, “But we’ve already christened this couch.” I thought for a second. “I know, I’ll be the doctor and you can be my patient. I’ll examine you...”
“Well doctor, should I get undressed?” He asked playfully.
“Yes, Professor, you should strip down to your boxers.”
He took off his sweat pants and t-shirt. I jumped up and ran out to the hall. “Just a minute, I’m going to need a stethoscope.”
I heard panic in his voice, “Maggie, no, not my bag!”
But it was too late. I had opened his bag and was digging for the stethoscope when I saw them. They were beautiful. I turned them over in my fingers. The gorgeous long strand of pearls, a ruby pendant dangling from them, with a security clasp on the end were so lustrous they reflected the light from the hall up into my eyes. My world felt like it was crashing in on me. I walked back into the living room holding the pearls in my hand, the shock clearly written on my pale face. My voice was hoarse, my throat constricted with emotion, “She was right. As long as you had these, you were connected. You knew she’d keep coming back.”
He wasn’t even looking at me; he couldn’t. Leaning forward he rested his arms on his legs and dropped his head into his hands. He finally gazed up and with resignation said, “Right, yes, yes. I knew that as long as I had the pearls she would come back to look for them. I am sorry Mags. I’ve tried. I wish I could say I’ve gotten her out of my head and my heart. I really do.”
I smiled weakly at him. “I understand.” I walked over and put the pearls on the table in front of him. I’m not sure how I managed to stay on my legs they felt so wobbly. I walked up the stairs and into the bedroom. About ten minutes later he came up and found me packing.
He winced, a look of pain so deep I almost felt sorry for him. Shaking his head he pleaded, “Maggie, don’t go. Go with me to Hay on Wye.”
“Why? So you have someone to fuck?” I almost started to cry, but vowed I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he h
ad hurt me.
“Jesus Christ. Look we have one weekend left together...” He said it and then realized how it sounded. “I mean, we have one weekend before you go back to school. Let’s not fight.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “No, you were right the first time. As far as you were concerned, we had one weekend left together. I was just the summer entertainment. Come Monday you could get your life back to normal.” I realized I had raised my voice so I took a deep breath and composed myself as I continued to pack.
“Maggie, please let’s not part like this. We’ve had such a good summer, let’s go have a good time in Hay on Wye. We can talk about all of this as we drive.”
I was calm; I was cool, “There is no ‘this.’ There never was. I was fooling myself when I thought we might actually have a relationship.” Scanning the room for stragglers, I put the last of my clothes in the bag and then went to collect my toiletries. Looking into the bathroom mirror at my trembling lower lip, I was so close to breaking down that I physically pinched myself until I was black and blue. Stealing my nerves, I walked past him, went down to the laundry room and grabbed my dirty clothes. On the way up I went through the house to gather the remainder of my things. I wasn’t sure I had retrieved everything, but I figured I had what was important. I took my things up to his room.
He was still sitting on the edge of the bed where I had left him. I threw the stuff in the bag and zipped it with a force of finality. Hoisting my overstuffed backpack on my back, I picked stood my suitcase up, ready to go downstairs. I sat it down so that I could face him.