What's Up, Pussycat?

by Louise Lyons

  Chapter Twelve

  In the aftermath of orgasm, guilt filled me and I pulled out of Karl’s arms. It was the first time I’d had any kind of sex other than with Andrew, and even after two years, I still felt a sense of betrayal. I avoided Karl’s eyes, awkward and embarrassed. I didn’t want to spoil things, and I covered it up by offering him another drink, but he shook his head.

  “I should get going. I don’t want to outstay my welcome.”

  “You haven’t!” I blurted.

  “You regret it, though.”

  “No.” I shook my head. Only two minutes ago, I’d been thanking him, but I couldn’t help my feelings. “I don’t, I just… it’s the first time with anybody else.”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m gonna go. I really don’t want to mess this up, Fin. Most people think I’m an insensitive, brainless dick, but I know when to take a step back. You’ve got my number.”

  “Sorry.” I shook myself, impatient with what I supposed was only a natural reaction to what had happened. Despite Karl’s quick smile before he went to get his jacket, I didn’t miss the sad look in his eyes. I followed him and waited while he put on his outdoor clothes. “I don’t want to mess this up either. I’ll call you. Soon, I promise.”

  “Okay. Anytime you want.” Karl pressed a quick kiss on my cheek, and slipped out of the house before I could respond. I leaned against the door with a sigh. He was so understanding; so generous. How had he not had a relationship longer than a few months?

  I pushed myself away from the door and went to my room, where immediately I was surrounded by the pictures of Andrew I’d moved from the living room. My face flamed and I turned away from them. What if he didn’t like Karl? What if Carol was wrong, and he was watching me, hating that I was moving on and leaving him behind?

  Frustrated, I gathered the pictures from their resting places and carefully laid them in the chest where I kept my spare bedding and towels. For the first time in nine years, I couldn’t look at Andrew. Sorrow and guilt warred with longing for the new man in my life, and I sat on the edge of the bed, fists clenched on my lap, my mind a muddle. Part of me wanted to tell Karl it had been a mistake, while the other part knew we could have something good together, if only I would let myself.

  That night I tossed and turned, barely sleeping. I couldn’t turn off my thoughts and by the time I dragged myself into the shower, my head ached. I made some strong coffee and stared at my phone, wondering if I should send Karl a message. I’m sorry, I can’t do this.

  The phone rang and I jumped, almost spilling my coffee. It was barely eight-thirty, but Carol was calling me. I hesitated before answering, but then picked up.

  “Hi, Carol.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Are you psychic?” I laughed sadly.

  “No, sweetie, but you sounded fed up when you answered.”

  “I’m okay. I didn’t sleep very well.”

  “Would you like me to come over today?” she offered. “The boys have all gone to a football match.” By “the boys,” she meant Andrew’s dad and brothers.

  “No, I’m fine, really. I don’t think I’d be very good company.” I paused and cleared my throat. “I met somebody.”

  “And?”

  “I really like him. But… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right.”

  “What do you mean? He’s not right for you in some way?”

  “It’s not that.” I sighed. “He was in Cats. That’s how we met. We haven’t seen each other for a long time, but yesterday we spent most of the day together. He’s great. Really understanding and caring. And attractive. But—”

  “You feel guilty.” I could hear the smile in Carol’s voice.

  “How did you know?”

  “I should think it’s natural. Andrew was your only love, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know he’d want you to be happy again.”

  “I know.” I paused, trying to get my thoughts in order. “I know he would. And I’m ready to try being with someone else, but I still feel guilty. Like I’m cheating on him, or his memory.”

  “I understand. You and Andrew loved each other so much. But he’s your past, and you’ll always have wonderful memories. Maybe this new man is your future. Tell me about him?”

  “Are you sure you want to hear this?” I couldn’t help wondering if in some way she would resent me being with someone new.

  “If I didn’t I wouldn’t ask.”

  “Okay. His name is Karl. He was a bit of an idiot when I first met him. He was desperate for attention all the time, and acted loud and over the top. He wound everybody up, but it was all an act. He gets terrible stage fright, just like me, and he seems a bit shy sometimes. All that behavior was to cover it up. It made people not like him. Andrew knew him from before, and Karl said Andrew saw right through him. Maybe Andrew thinks I’m stupid to want to be with him.”

  “He wouldn’t think that. The real Karl sounds like a nice man.”

  “He is. Last night… well, we kissed, and he left at exactly the moment I started to feel like I shouldn’t have done it. He left it for me to get in touch with him, if I still wanted to.”

  “Are you going to?”

  “Yes.” Finally, I smiled again. “I was awake most of the night worrying about it, but I realized I don’t want to miss out on this. I don’t want to lose him.”

  “Then don’t. Call him. And remember you can call me any time you want to talk about things,” Carol said gently.

  “I know. Thanks. So, why did you call this early?”

  “No particular reason. Just for a chat.” Carol stayed on the phone a while longer, and when we said good-bye, my doubts and fears were gone. I had no reason to feel guilty. Andrew would only be happy that I could find happiness again, and it was a blessing his mother was still in my life, and was able to remind me of that.

  I still wasn’t ready to talk to Karl yet, but I sent him a text. Perhaps he’d been awake last night, too, worrying that I might have changed my mind. I tapped out a few words, deleting and retyping several times before I was satisfied with the message: Hey, yesterday was great. Wondering if you want to grab some lunch today, unless you’re busy rehearing? Fin.

  I considered ending the message with a kiss, but decided against it. I didn’t want to sound too gushy in the first message I ever sent him. The reply came within seconds as if he’d been waiting to hear from me.

  Great! No rehearsals for three more days. Fancy meeting at Starbucks first?

  Beaming, I replied to tell him I’d meet him at eleven thirty. His response of Can’t wait! was followed by an emoji blowing a kiss, and I smiled wider. All I felt was excitement as I showered, shaved, and tried on several shirts before I settled on a red polo shirt with a gray sweater over it. Carol’s pep-talk had helped me see that I was allowed to be excited about a date, and potentially a relationship. I hadn’t enjoyed these feelings since my teens, and I’d spent too long thinking my love life was over. It was time to start again.

  I arrived ten minutes early at Starbucks, and as I opened the door, Karl appeared, laughing. “You’re early!”

  “So are you.” I let the door close again, and stepped closer to give him a kiss on the cheek. He slid his arms around me and I turned my head to meet his lips. The peck on the cheek turned into a full blown hot kiss that had my heart racing and my already tight pants tightening more. When I stepped back, Karl’s face was flushed and his eyes sparkling.

  “You are pleased to see me. I thought maybe… I don’t know. I wondered if you’d regret it.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t regret anything.” It was true, I didn’t. And there was no need to tell him I’d felt guilty for a while.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After we’d spent an hour in Starbucks, making our way through two lattes each and a couple of packets of biscotti, the coffee date morphed into another whole day together. We went for a walk, holding hands as we made our way through the ci
ty, eventually reaching Karl’s home. He had a small apartment, converted from the top floor of a three-story house. One of the other members of Forest Theater Company lived on the first floor, and a young couple with a baby in the middle.

  Karl’s single bedroom home was crammed with clutter, and while he apologized for the mess, I looked around in fascination at the vast collection of memorabilia from the shows he’d been a part of, and those he’d attended as a member of the audience before he became an actor himself. He told me how he’d started with the drama group at his school, and moved onto an amateur dramatics company, before finally finding Maurice’s group when he was twenty. He’d been in versions of Phantom of the Opera, Moulin Rouge, Aladdin, and several others before Cats, and still had all his costumes hanging in one side of his closet.

  I felt much more relaxed at his place than my own. We didn’t stop talking all afternoon, finding we had a lot in common with our tastes in music, movies, sports—neither of us liked taking part in sports, but we both enjoyed watching tennis, athletics, and skiing on the TV.

  That evening, we ordered Chinese food and discovered we both hated sweet and sour, but loved beef in black bean sauce, and chicken with cashew nuts. We fought over the last of the prawn crackers, and laughed over too many beers. By the time we’d watched a DVD of Moulin Rouge starring Nicole Kidman, it was late and I realized I would have to get a taxi home. It wasn’t a long walk, but the amount of beer I’d drunk made me wonder if I’d make it back without getting lost.

  “Why don’t you stay?” Karl raised his eyebrows, then shook his head and babbled. “Maybe it’s too soon. I mean, if you did, we don’t have to do anything. It’s up to you. It’s just a suggestion. Or I can call a cab for you. I’ve got a card somewhere. Hold on.” He opened his wallet and rifled through a bunch of business cards.

  “I’ll stay,” I said decisively, laughing at his bluster. “But I’ll have to leave before nine tomorrow. I really need to get some work done.”

  “I can set my alarm. And I make a mean breakfast.” Karl grinned. “There’s bacon, sausage, and eggs in the fridge, and hash browns in the freezer. I’m crap at cooking anything else, but breakfast I can do.”

  “Sounds great.” I stifled a yawn and grimaced. “Sorry. Beer’s catching up with me.”

  “There’s a spare toothbrush in the cupboard in the bathroom,” Karl offered. “You go first. I’ll clear up.” He began gathering up the food cartons and empty beer bottles, while I made use of the bathroom. He was in the small kitchen when I emerged, and I went into the bedroom alone.

  Karl’s king size bed was made up with red satin sheets, which was exactly the kind of bedding I pictured him sleeping in. I ran my hand over the cover. I’d never slept in satin and could only imagine the feel of the smooth fabric against my skin. I stripped down to my underwear and slid into the bed. Karl went into the bathroom and I waited, pulse quickening as I heard the toilet flush, then his vigorous brushing of his teeth. I’d drunk enough to be relaxed, but not so much I couldn’t get aroused. My dick filled as I lay there, and tiredness vanished. I still wasn’t sure how far I wanted to go, but the thought of Karl jerking me off made my groin ache.

  He appeared in the doorway, still wearing a T-shirt with his briefs. The shirt wasn’t quite long enough to hide the fact that he was hard. I grinned and patted the bed beside me. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Not used to having anyone in my bed.” He turned off the light and hurried to join me. “Can’t even remember the last time, and they didn’t sleep over. Sorry.”

  I laughed and turned to face him as he slid under the sheet beside me. “Suddenly I’m not very tired.”

  “Me neither.” He shuffled closer and touched my face. “I never thought this would happen, you know? I kept thinking about you, after Cats ended.”

  “Me too. I almost called Maurice to ask for your phone number, but I kept talking myself out of it,” I confessed. “I didn’t want to tell him why, and then time passed and I thought you’d probably found somebody else.”

  “I almost did the same thing.” Karl chuckled in the darkness. “Asked Maurice for your number, I mean. But after what happened in London, I doubted you’d want to hear from me.”

  “Shut up,” I whispered. “Too much talking.” Karl fell silent, and I leaned closer to press my lips to his. “Better.”

  He hummed his approval and slid his arm around me, pulling me against his body until our erections pressed together, still trapped in our underwear. I gyrated my hips, awkwardly as I lay on my side. A little too much beer, and excitement made me bold. I slid my hand down to Karl’s ass and caressed him through his briefs. He groaned and pressed his face into my neck. “Take these off.” I plucked at the waistband of the garment.

  Karl pulled away from me and quickly wriggled out of his underwear and T-shirt. I shed my boxers too, and when we moved close again, we moaned as our dicks rubbed together. I slid my hand between us and grasped both, stroking his long shaft against mine with precome from us both easing the way.

  “Shit, wait.” Karl grabbed my hand and pulled it away. “Too close.” He grimaced.

  “Already?” I laughed softly. “I barely touched you.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve been thinking about it all day.” He propped himself up on one elbow and gave me a long, heated kiss. I parted my lips and our tongues met, exploring and teasing. When Karl drew away, I tried to pull him back, but he slipped out of reach and pushed the bed covers off. He lowered his head to trace a line of kisses down the middle of my chest, and I gasped when his chin bumped the wet tip of my cock. It twitched in anticipation, straining to reach his mouth as he made his way lower. He circled my navel with his tongue, making me shiver as I slid my hands into his hair.

  “Please,” I murmured.

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “Your mouth.”

  He inched lower and my erection slid along his cheek. Whimpering, I lifted my hips to get some friction. Any thoughts other than the here and now—the anticipation and the arousal—had left my head and I simply enjoyed. When Karl finally wrapped his long fingers around my dick and guided it into his mouth, I rolled my head back on the pillow and cried out, too loudly, but I didn’t care. My heart thundered in my chest, my hands trembled as I clutched handfuls of Karl’s hair, and my thighs quivered as I spread them wider and pulled my knees up either side of him.

  He sucked slowly, teasingly, making his way up and down my length with lips and tongue and the gentle scrape of teeth, one hand following, and the other stroking and squeezing my balls. Fearing I might pull out chunks of his hair, I let go of him and gripped the head of the bed behind me instead. Karl ducked his head lower, taking me all the way in until my tip slid into his throat, and his nose was buried in my newly trimmed pubic hair. He took his hands off and slid them under my ass, squeezing and encouraging me to buck my hips.

  “God, Karl. Fuck!” I clenched my fists harder on the wood frame behind me. My balls drew up and my orgasm built rapidly, seconds from erupting. “Gonna come,” I panted, just in case he wanted to pull off. He didn’t, and I writhed under him as I shot into his throat. He carried on sucking, more gently, as he gradually drew off and licked me clean. Shuddering, I released my death-grip on the head of the bed and lowered my hands to his face as he looked up at me. “Shit,” I said eloquently.

  Karl grinned, and I noticed his flushed face and blown pupils. He crawled up the bed to my side and grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the bedside cabinet. “Here.” Passing them to me, he grabbed more to wipe himself. Clearly, he didn’t need my help to get off, and I felt a touch of guilt that I hadn’t given him the enjoyment he’d given me.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  “For what? That was amazing.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Believe me, sucking your dick gave me as much pleasure as it did you.”

  “I doubt that.” I chuckled and tossed aside the tissues. “Next time, it’
s my turn.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Next time” didn’t happen for almost a week. Karl’s mother got sick and he spent a couple of days running around helping her out with shopping and jobs around the house. Then he was back at rehearsals before the start of the new season of shows, and I was snowed under with writing. We called and texted at every opportunity, but we couldn’t seem to find the time to get together. The stupid insecure part of me wondered if Karl needed an excuse to avoid a repeat of that night, and I berated myself over and over for thinking that. All I had to do was read his texts, long and detailed, about how he couldn’t wait to see me, and how he’d loved what we did.

  Finally, we saw each other during the daytime when Karl wasn’t needed by the theater company. Working from home meant I was flexible and could schedule things to fit around when he could be free. We went out for lunch followed by the movies. Unable to decide on what to watch, because we each fancied something different from what was showing, we saw two movies back to back—a comedy for Karl, and a spy thriller for me. We held hands and snuggled in the back row, sharing popcorn and a huge carton of diet Coke with two straws. When the second movie ended, we headed back to Karl’s place, and took up where we left off the last time.

  I took the lead, no longer nervous about sex with him. Occasionally, I had niggling feelings of guilt when I was alone, but when we were together, I was able to leave the past behind and accept that Andrew would have been happy for me.

  I sucked Karl’s dick, and at his encouragement, fucked him with my finger, for the first time discussing tentatively what we might do when we got to anal sex. “You bottom?” I queried, and sucked him into my mouth while I waited for an answer.