Champagne Secrets

by Amanda Brunker

  Taking it all in his stride, Slash offered a half-apology. ‘Sorry, buddy, but it’s gotta be noted, your lady has got junk in her trunk.’

  Giddy from the bubbles, and not wanting an argument to break out, I whooped, ‘Yes, I have! But the only man getting his hands on this junk is my man, Rory.’ I kissed him to break the tension. Then I remembered Lisa’s threats, decided to be bold, and suggested to Rory, ‘Let’s forget about getting another drink for the moment. Why don’t we find a broom closet or a storeroom to get naughty in?’

  Surprised, he asked, ‘Really? Absolutely. Any ideas where?’

  Looking back into the ballroom, I signalled towards the stage and said, ‘Wanna try backstage? There have to be some free dressing rooms by now. Everyone is out here in the bar.’

  Not needing to be asked twice, Rory playfully slapped my bum and started to whistle loudly as he led me back into the now emptying venue. Passing the last of the stragglers, Rory chuckled in a giddy manner. ‘You have a very naughty mind. But I like it. I like it a lot!’

  As we arrived over at the edge of the stage it was obvious that we had to take a chance, and try to slip behind the curtain where the celebrities had been coming out. Looking at Rory, I asked, ‘Are you game?’

  After a quick look over his shoulder, he replied, ‘You are my dream woman. Let’s go!’ As we slipped behind the velvet curtain Rory couldn’t help but let out an excited giggle. Like an experienced burglar, I shushed him to stay quiet and gripped his hand even tighter. I told him to stand tall, and, if we were stopped, to offer the excuse that we were collecting some borrowed dresses. So we continued to tip-toe through the cables and around giant kit boxes until we reached a long corridor that had a row of closed doors. We ran down to the first door, but hesitated when we heard a group of people talking inside. The next two were both occupied, too, and it wasn’t until we reached the final one that we heard the sweet sound of silence. Looking like he’d just won the Lottery, Rory cried, ‘BINGO!’ As he opened the door, we were greeted by nothing but darkness.

  Feeling for a light switch, I found one and flicked it on, but Rory quickly switched it off again. ‘What are you doing?’ I asked.

  With a naughty plan clearly in mind, Rory told me, ‘Be quiet. Wait and see.’ I bumped into chairs as I shuffled inside, and Rory shushed again as I let out hearty cackles of laughter. He masterfully manoeuvred me around, positioning me on what felt, in the pitch dark, like a sturdy make-up table. Standing somewhere in front of me, he began slowly to lift up my dress and expose my legs. My laughter gone, all I could hear was his deep, controlled breathing. In the cold room his breath warmed my chest as he leaned over to kiss my small, but now heaving, breasts. He had to grapple with my dress, but managed somehow to ruche it up around my middle. The waist was corseted, and despite his best efforts the rest of my body remained tightly bound by smooth satin. He stuffed the overflowing material into my hands, saying in his husky voice, ‘Hold that up.’ Large, strong fingers pulled at my G-string, slowly edging it out from under me, and slipping it softly down over my thighs and off past my toes.

  Since dirty-talk wasn’t exactly a specialty of mine, I struggled to find the perfect words to enhance the moment. Choosing to keep it simple, I whispered, ‘Come here and let me feel your rock-hard dick,’ and hoped that that would turn him on. Of course it did.

  Letting out a quiet laugh, Rory muttered under his breath, ‘You are one sexy minx. You are so fucking hot.’

  As I thanked him, and applauded his great taste, I tried to adjust my eyes to the gloom, but I could barely see what Rory was doing as he banged about in front of me. It was the sounds which gave him away. From the rustle of belts, zips and buttons it was obvious that he was undressing himself, and I felt exhilarated with excitement at the arrival, at last, of our first time.

  Not wanting to ruin the moment, but not wanting to get caught out either, I gently asked, ‘Rory, by any chance do you have any—’

  ‘Of course,’ he interrupted. ‘I didn’t think we were going to get the opportunity tonight. But I bought a fresh pack of condoms today, just in case.’

  ‘Aren’t you the presumptuous one?’ I teased, as I quickly slipped my sports socks out from under my dress and into my handbag for safe keeping.

  ‘Well, surely you can’t blame a guy for dreaming about this gorgeous body, now, can you?’

  I was just about to answer him back when I felt him lifting my breasts above the top of my dress, so that my nipples were exposed. They hardened immediately in the cool air, and stiffened further as he softly cupped his mouth around my left breast. I felt an immense release of energy as I pushed my chest automatically in the direction of his touch. Circling his tongue tantalizingly around my nipple, he moved up to kiss my neck, before dropping down to kiss my inside leg, and then moving further and more insistently up inside me. In the dark I couldn’t see a thing, and, feeling like I was blindfolded, I groaned with the sheer pleasure and fantasy of it all. With my other senses heightened, every touch, every kiss, every time he put his fingers inside me and every time he circled my clitoris, seemed to take on a greater intensity than I could ever remember having felt before. It sometimes took me ages to orgasm, but tonight I was screaming with pleasure and laughing with joy in what seemed like minutes. Furious with myself for coming too quickly, I apologized and pushed him from me. He refused at first to lift his head away when I pleaded, ‘Get off me for a minute.’ When I changed tack and asked, ‘Can I please touch your dick?’ he happily retreated.

  He licked his lips and told me, ‘Fuck, you taste damn good.’ Turned on again, I reached forward and grabbed hold of his balls first, and then worked my way up to his erect dick. This was my first time to touch it and … Oh-my-God, it felt huge! I let out a tiny whimper of delight, and Rory’s body shuddered as I stroked him. ‘Eas-y there.’ He choked. ‘I’m sorry … I’m not sure how long I can hold on for.’ I wanted to taste him, but Rory had other ideas: ‘Please, let me put myself out of my misery.’ He groaned. ‘I’ve needed to fuck you for so long now!’

  Wanting to feel him inside me, I was more than happy to let him in. ‘Come on then,’ I goaded. ‘Fuck me. Fuck me hard.’ Hearing the telltale rustle of a condom wrapper, I positioned myself close to the edge of the table and, unable to wait any longer, begged him, ‘Come on. Fuck me. Fuck me now,’ as I hustled the loose swathes of my dress safely behind my back. I had only just prepared myself when I felt Rory lift up my bum and pull me forward on to his waiting cock. I was still wet and highly sensitive, and the feeling of him entering me was powerful and almost overwhelming. ‘Oh-my-God!’ I cried again, remembering how much better it felt to have sex with someone you really cared about.

  ‘Come on, baby,’ whispered Rory. ‘Come with me. Come with me again.’ We soon found our rhythm, and bumped and ground together, going from steady, to fast, to finished in a matter of minutes. It wasn’t the most amazing sex I had ever had, certainly on record the shortest, but I was happy since I had been pleasured first. And he was happy with a weight lifted off his mind. Buckling slightly on to me as he finished, he apologized for his poor performance, but blamed me entirely for being, ‘Such a crazy, cool, sexy bitch.’

  Teasing him, I joked, ‘You’re right, I am,’ before fumbling to find his lips and give him a big celebratory kiss.

  Needing to fix himself up, Rory asked, ‘Do you mind if I turn on the light?’ He allowed me just enough time to hide my modesty. When I said I was ready, Rory flicked the switch, almost blinding me in the process. Instead of anything subtle, full fluorescents beamed on, along with a full complement of old-fashioned bulbs around the mirror I was leaning against. As Rory grappled with his trousers, I rooted in my clutch for my compact, to check out the full extent of the damage to my make-up. Trying not to stare at Rory as he pushed himself back into his suit, I was distracted by the tragedy that was now my face. With red lipstick smeared across my skin and bleeding up over my top lip, bare rosy cheeks, and formerly smok
y eyes now just bloodshot and panda-like, it was hard to know where to start. Begging him to turn the lights back off, I winced as Rory shuffled back over to me and kissed me on the nose. ‘Don’t be stressing, sweet cheeks. You’re the best-looking girlfriend a guy like me could ever dream of having.’

  I liked how that sounded. ‘You said your girlfriend. Am I your girlfriend?’

  Not missing a beat, Rory put his hands on both my shoulders, pulled me close to face him and whispered, ‘I hope so.’

  Hardly believing my ears, I continued, ‘You never said anything, so I didn’t want to assume.’

  He just laughed quietly and continued stuffing his shirt into his trousers and fixing himself in the mirror behind me. ‘Alice, are you crazy?’ he asked. ‘I think you’re incredible. I was so proud to have you on my arm tonight. If you want me to ask you I will. OK, then, so will you be my girlfriend?’

  After the stress of thinking I was going to be attacked by Tanya and Issey, followed by the euphoria of our backstage fumble, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. Along with these mixed emotions, a wave of guilt flooded over me. What was I doing with this guy? It was obvious that our relationship was flourishing – we’d now even had sex, albeit briefly – but things had started to get serious. Rory was not a one-night stand, and he deserved to be treated with more respect. Maybe it was the drink talking, or just the post-sex calm, but I suddenly felt the urge to come clean. ‘Rory, I need to talk to you about something.’

  ‘OK, girlfriend, hit me. What do you want to tell me?’

  ‘Mmmm, I need to know what you think about lying.’

  Trying to look sober, Rory pulled a serious face and said, ‘I can’t abide it,’ in a faux-regal voice. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Come on, I want you to focus for five minutes, please. We’ve had loads of fun tonight. But I need to know what you think about fibbing.’

  Doing his best to show interest, Rory said, ‘I sorta think it’s the same as lying, really. Don’t you?’

  ‘Umm, not really.’

  Not giving up the joking, Rory put on his royal voice again and asked, ‘What is it you are trying to tell me, girlfriend? Spit it out, young wench. I’m in need of another drink.’

  Bottling out, I made a weak joke to distract him, and made a promise to myself to tell him about the real me tomorrow. Or at least as soon as both our hangovers were gone. ‘OK.’ I smiled cheerfully. ‘It’s the moment of truth. I’m not sure how well I hid this from you, but I’m not a natural blonde.’

  ‘Ha! Ha! Now what do you really want to tell me?’ Rory was straightening himself up and looking concerned instead of flippant. ‘Come on, what’s bugging you?’

  Although I truly wanted to set the record straight, I reckoned that the truth was not a good idea after several bottles of France’s finest vintage bubbles. So I threw him a bone and faked it again. ‘I think I told you I was thirty. I’m not, I’m thirty-three and my thirty-fourth birthday is next month. Do you think I’m a hideous old maid, now?’

  Taking a moment to assess my statement, he replied. ‘Nooo. I don’t remember you saying how old you were, but of course not. I’m thirty-five, so I believe that makes us perfectly matched.’

  Once again out of the woods, I breathed a sigh of relief, but also felt a nauseous wave of shame that at this point in our burgeoning relationship I was still able to keep champagne secrets.

  As we headed back to the bar for final orders we must have looked like love’s young dream to any passers-by. Despite everything, things were working out perfectly. All I needed to do was expose myself as the lying, cheatin’ bitch that I had become, and everything would just be dandy. Well, that was the plan, anyway …

  12

  ‘OK, Lisa, give me some advice. I need to be cool, calm, sexy – in control.’

  ‘Sounds like you need some Xanax.’

  ‘Eh, no, thank you. I’d also like to have a personality as well. Come on, this is a big deal for me here. This is the first time I’m going to see where Rory lives. What if it’s a dump? What if he has creepy hoarding issues?’

  ‘What, like collects locks of hair from celebrities, or saves his urine and shit?’

  ‘Eh, not quite. What weirdos have you been palling around with lately? I was thinking more along the lines of knives and weapons, or maybe phallic-looking kitchen utensils. But now that you mention it, I’ll be extra careful while looking through his fridge for apple juice.’ I giggled. It was so great having a silly conversation with Lisa. It took my mind off the ever-present terror about Sir Charlie’s.

  ‘Yeah, never really got into collecting, myself,’ mused Lisa.

  Teasing, I joked, ‘Except for blokes?’

  ‘Ah, they don’t count.’ She laughed. ‘Though I did once date a guy who collected murderabilia.’

  ‘What the hell is that?’

  ‘Works of art produced by serial killers, I discovered.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No, honestly, it’s true. They were all paintings and stuff. As far as I can remember he had pieces by Charles Manson and John Wayne Gacy.’

  ‘Was he not a cowboy?’

  ‘Ha! No. A different John Wayne.’

  ‘Jesus. That’s a bit grim though, no? Were you not worried about the psychological state of a guy who collected art made by serial killers?’

  ‘Not really. He said they were just investment pieces, I believed him. Though, looking back, he was big into asphyxiation.’

  ‘Fair enough. What’s he doing with himself now? Do you still see him?’

  ‘No. He lived with his mother, as far as I can remember, which I thought was a bit creepy, especially considering he was in his forties. But he moved away, something to do with a sewage problem under his house. I think it stank badly. I never heard from him again.’

  ‘Wow, the one who got away, eh?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing, you fool. Enough about your lunatic conquests. We could be here all day discussing them. I’m nervous. I need a pep talk, so hit me! Come on, what should I be thinking? What should I be saying? What should I be wearing?’

  Typically, the last was the question to grab her attention. ‘As little as possible really. Maybe just a fun fur coat and no knickers? That’s sure to get any party going.’

  ‘OK, strike the last one, please. We’re not filming a cheap porno. I need to know the etiquette for first-time house-visit banter. Do I bring a plant? A pot of stew? Should I ask for a guided tour? What? I’m freaking out here.’

  Sensing that Lisa had moved the receiver away from her ear, I knew my behaviour must have sounded psychotic.

  ‘Hello? Lisa? Can you hear me?’

  I waited a few moments before I heard a rustling at the other end of the phone and then, ‘Have you come back down to earth yet?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Lisa, it’s just that I’m really starting to fall for this guy, and, many obstacles aside, I think I might be able to make a go of this one.’

  But Lisa had been down this road one too many occasions before with me. ‘That’s great, love. But try not to marry this one. Not before the summer, anyway.’

  Trying not to be offended, I bit my lip. ‘I’ll do my best,’ I said, and then did a good job of answering my own questions. ‘Bottle of wine? Be myself and generally go with the flow?’

  ‘Sounds about right,’ agreed Lisa, before pulling her old trick of saying, ‘Hello? Hello? The reception … is really … bad. If you can hear me … I’ll call you later!’ And with that, she was gone.

  In the taxi over to Rory’s apartment images of what I might be greeted with flashed through my head. Was he going to open the door to me in nothing but a novelty pair of elephant pants? Or maybe he’d fancy himself as a bit of a Hugh Hefner and don a smoking jacket and cravat? Thankfully, all such sordid thoughts were quashed once I got there. He was dressed casually in jeans and a simple grey tee, and had trimmed his beard and hair in an obvious attempt to look groomed. In a way I preferred him scr
uffier, but it was still sweet that he had gone to the effort for me. Not sure whether to go flash and buy champagne, or play it low key with beers, I had bought both at the off-licence, and stepped through the door looking like an alcoholic who needed to get pissed before she could have sex. Mind you, in a way that was partly true. Even though we had been intimate, booze had been a big factor in our last encounter, and walking cold into his apartment was extremely daunting, even for a diva like myself.

  As he proudly ushered me into his living room, I soon began to feel more at ease. Although it had a definite bachelor feel to it, with several large photographs of him in combats with a bullet-proof vest, posing with his TV camera, it was inviting and comfortable; and from the general air of cleanliness and display of brand-new candles dotted around the room, it was clear he had gone to some effort to create a setting in which to woo me. Playing the perfect host, he took my coat, plus my heavy bag of booze, and asked me to sit down and make myself comfortable while he went off with them. On his return he handed me a drink. ‘One of my specialities. This is a Baxter own-recipe Mojito. Now, excuse me, if you will, while I finish off some final preparations in the kitchen.’ I offered to help but was quickly put right. ‘No way,’ he demurred. ‘In approximately five minutes, I will be all yours for the night.’

  ‘I love a man in control,’ I whispered, flirting back, and received a kiss on the lips for my efforts before he disappeared off once more. Feeling like one of the contestants off Come Dine With Me, I quickly stepped up my snooping and began sniffing around his bookcases. Lonely Planet guides rested beside life stories of comedians like Peter Kay, as well as more serious biographies and luscious photography books. I had just taken out The Great LIFE Photographers and Photojournalism and started flicking through its glossy pages when Rory raced back into the room holding an extremely large clay pot and dumped it on the dining table in the corner, which was already fully set for two.