His heavy-lidded eyes – almost black with desire – widened and he whispered, “Are you a virgin?”
I nodded, afraid to answer with my voice, which I had no control over. It could have come out a squeak or a yell, alerting anyone who might be near.
“Then I’m the luckiest bloke in the world,” he murmured, licking my chin, my neck, my breasts as withdrew and held himself above me again, as if appraising me. His cock was rigid, dripping nectar on my tummy, and I was in heaven.
He gently entered me again, never taking his eyes off mine, and I wondered how human beings who had a partner to have sex with could ever take time out to do anything else. Being screwed by Magnus Winchester was the most fabulous experience of my whole life. But then, after I’d had three orgasms that thundered through me and left me panting for breath, he surprised me by pulling his cock out and putting his fingers into my pussy. He licked them, grinning, and then dipped in again. “Taste how delicious you are,” he whispered, sliding them into my mouth. And my juices – mixed with his – were indeed a fabulous cocktail.
“You’re the most wonderful lover,” he whispered, grinning. “I hope you don’t mind if I prolong both our pleasure.”
I shook my head, again not trusting my voice.
He rocked back and forth inside me a few more times and my miraculous body tightened around his thickness and drew him in even further to where I was white hot, molten. Our bodies convulsed, trembled, convulsed until I came again, crying out with exquisite delight as he brought me to the pinnacle. I was amazed when I happened to glance the sky over his shoulder, and the shimmering trees, that everything seemed brighter and sparkly.
Too soon he said hoarsely, “I’m going to come any second. Do you want me to come in your pussy or your mouth?”
I wanted him everywhere. I wanted to feel the power of him every possible way, but most of all I wanted to taste his cum.
“My mouth,” I managed to say, instantly almost regretting my decision as he pulled out of me.
“I’m coming,” he rasped, pulling out.
In a millisecond he was over my face and my hand met his as he lowered his penis into my mouth. I adored holding its heat in my hand and with the other I tugged his balls, which were rock hard. I licked the ridge of skin behind its head and he gave a deep-throated groan of ecstasy as his cum rocketed to the back of my throat and I swallowed, not tasting it because it had overshot my taste buds.
“Oh. My. God,” he breathed, pulling it out and collapsing on top of me as I clung to him, unable to believe what had just happened.
“You. Are. Brilliant,” he mouthed against my neck, his sweat mixing with mine.
“You’re the brilliant one,” I murmured. “What a body!”
“No, believe me, Virginia,” he panted, regaining his breath after his orgasm. “You’re the best. You might’ve been a virgin until a few minutes ago but you behave like a very naughty and highly skilled high-class lady of the night.”
I chuckled. I was the happiest woman on the planet, with Magnus in my arms, his penis jerking between us as his erection subsided. I cradled his head against my neck and rubbed the small of his back, wondering if other women got off on the wicked sensation of being both mistress and mother to her man.
After a while we both got too hot and we slid into the water again, where he held me against his chest. Gravity ensured I was almost weightless in the water..
Everything seemed more real than ever before. The sky was bluer, the water purer, the waterbirds’ cries more poignant. And my body seemed capable of magic, if Magnus’s responses were anything to go by. Women might be able to fake orgasm, but men can’t. My only disappointment was not tasting his cum. Hopefully I’d make up for that another time, I thought.
“You’re the best, Virginia,” he said again.
And I believed him.
Afterwards, we defied convention and showered together in the women’s bathroom, so engrossed in each other that we weren’t aware if other people came and went. Behind the cubicle door, I luxuriated in the pleasure of soaping his body, exchanging smiles with him as his penis woke again, its purple tip working free of the foreskin. I knelt under the stream of water and took him in my mouth again. I sucked hard, fondling his balls with my fingers, and then licked the powerful shaft from tip to base, up and down in long, lingering laps. This time he came less powerfully, but I held my head back a little so his cum would land on my tongue.
Magnus tasted of the sea. The powerful, magnificent ocean.
He grinned down at me as I licked my lips. If I’d been a cat, my purring would’ve shaken the building.
He turned off the shower and I dried him tenderly, toweling him between the legs, fluffing his pubic hair. Back in Matty I cooked for him, conjuring an omelette so fluffy and perfect, so fragrant with herbs, cheese and mushrooms that if was a work of art, even if I said so myself. We ate in silence and I luxuriated in the fact that he never took his eyes off me.
Later in the day, however, my happiness turned sour. We were walking, as we often did, to the bakery, saying hello to some of the locals with whom we were becoming familiar. We rarely drove anywhere in the little town, preferring to stroll along and chat to people. Magnus was a hero in their eyes. Everyone had heard about his felling the bikies and rescuing the boy. Although on this day, some of the townsfolk seemed to be giving us quizzical looks.
A Daily Herald poster outside the newsagent’s shop seared into my eyes. “DEATH DOCTOR ACQUITTED” it blared in huge red capitals. Then, in smaller letters, printed across the forehead of a photo of Magnus, “Winchester Walks Away”.
Magnus’ step faltered and, as I turned to give him my hand, his face blanched.
“It had to happen,” he said quietly.
“Let’s go back to Matilda,” I said, desperate to steer him away from the horrified gazes of the passers-by, eager to be as far away as possible from the cruel headline.
“We need bread, Virginia.”
“I can get it later.”
“I have to face up to what I’ve done. I might as well start now.”
“Magnus, I don’t know anything about this, but the poster says you were acquitted. You’re innocent. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I killed a child,” he rasped. “Because of me, a family has lost a loved one. My marriage has shattered. I’ve blown any chance I might have had of getting a job anywhere in the world. And, until I met you, my confidence had hit rock-bottom.”
“You’re innocent,” I said again. I had to make myself believe it. Why was he a “death doctor”? What dreadful thing had happened?
“Come on, let’s go,” I insisted, taking his arm.
Somehow we braved the stares, walked back to the caravan park, climbed into the van and closed the door behind us.
Magnus flung himself down on his mattress, lying on his back with his arms cradling his head as if protecting it from blows. I lay beside him, feeling his tension, his ragged breathing.
“You don’t have to stay with me,” he bit out, shrugging away from me. “You have about eight weeks left. Go and enjoy it. I’m not good company. Go and see Josie. She needs you.”
“I want to stay,” I said, beginning to cry. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I love you.”
“I’m not worth loving. You only have to read the newspaper to find that out. Anyway, I’m not joking about Josie. She has cancer. They found it when she was admitted for her leg, so it was just as well she had that accident. I read her notes when we visited her in hospital. She and Jake will be very glad to have you back.”
“Do you think she’ll die?” I whispered.
“It’s bowel cancer. Sometimes if it’s discovered early enough, it can be successfully treated. I think you should go and see her. I was going to suggest it tonight anyway. The poster had just precipitated things.”
“Why don’t you come too? They like you, Magnus.”
“They won’t like me after reading about me.”
“Virginia, please, I need to be alone. Please go.”
Resignedly I got to my feet and began throwing my things into my suitcase.
“Perhaps I’ll see you later, Magnus,” I said, stepping down from Matilda for the last time. “Please know that I’ll always be glad to see you, if you ever want to come and have a drink with me, or watch a movie.”
He didn’t say goodbye, or even lift his head as I walked away.
Dashing tears from my eyes, I walked back to the main street, marched into the newsagent, bought the newspaper with its hideous headline, folded it, tucked it under my arm and walked to the railway station to wait for the train to take me back to the city.
I sat on one of the benches, having deposited my case on the platform, and with shaking hands unfolded The Daily Herald.
“Dr Magnus Winchester, forty-five, was today acquitted by the Supreme Court, bringing to a close a legal battle which has lasted several months,” proclaimed the first paragraph.
“The doctor, who had been charged with the manslaughter of five year-old Kristy Smith, did not appear before the judge. He was represented by his sister, lawyer Daisy Winchester, who argued eloquently for her brother’s freedom.”
I stopped reading, remembering the day I’d seen Magnus and the attractive blonde together at the art gallery. I scanned the page. There was a picture of Magnus with Daisy. She was the woman whose benign presence had caused me to run and lock myself away in my house. I sighed with a kind of relief and resumed reading.
“Ms Winchester, armed with a bewildering array of medical records and statistics, blinded the judge with science when she presented her family’s side of the story. The little girl, who had been admitted into Dr Winchester’s care, died during a routine tonsillectomy. Ms Winchester supplied evidence to prove that the child suffered a fatal allergy to the anaesthetic, an allergy of which her brother was unaware.
“She argued that her brother had worked an 18-hour shift and that Kristy Smith’s operation was the last of a long list. She did not mention the fact that the child’s family had been initially opposed to the idea of the operation but had been persuaded by Dr Winchester that she should undergo it.”
I didn’t read the rest. I glanced at more of the photos. There were several of the child’s distraught parents, one of the child, alive, happy and healthy at a birthday party, another of Magnus. He was wearing his surgeon’s gown, boots, cap and mask and somehow, the photographer had managed to catch him looking aloof, arrogant. Magnus had probably been tired when the picture was taken, maybe stifling a yawn. I knew he’d never be aloof or arrogant.
I longed to run back to Matilda, to tell him he was still my hero, but suddenly the train rounded the corner and I remembered Josie.
With a heavy heart, I climbed aboard.
The most wonderful experience of my life had come and gone within a day. I’d found love, but my dream-come-true had turned out to be nothing but fairy-floss. I longed to be able to comfort Magnus with words, with food, with love, but he’d rejected me.
The train pulled into Perth station in the evening and I took a taxi to Jake and Josie’s flat at the back of their shop.
I knocked on the door and waited for Jake to shuffle down the corridor to let me in.
“Oh my girl,” he said, opening his arms to me. “It’s grand to see you. Josie’ll be that pleased you’re here. She’s home now, you know.”
“How is she?” I asked urgently.
“Not bad, considering.” He sounded worried nevertheless. I decided not to mention the cancer. He straightened his shoulders and asked, “How are you? I read all about Magnus in the paper today. Poor bugger, eh? Who’d be in that job? I make a mistake, and give someone ten cents change instead of twenty. He slips up and a kid’s dead. How’s he taking the publicity?”
“Not well. We were enjoying York so much we’ve been there all this time. Now he wants to be alone. So our travels are over and I’m home.”
Jake clicked his tongue. “What a shame, eh? Such a nice chap and all. You couldn’t go back, after he’s calmed down a bit?”
“I don’t know if he really wants me there. We get on really well. In fact, I think I love him. But I get the feeling he’s nice to me because he feels sorry for me.”
“Feels sorry for you!” Jake thundered. “Why, for goodness sake? You’re great, Ginny.”
“Great as in big, yes,” I said with a bitter laugh.
“Great as in kind, clever, brilliant company. And beautiful, although I mustn’t let Josie hear me say that. Just between you, me and this door jamb that’s holding me up, I reckon you’re a stunner. Especially since you’ve taken to wearing pretty colours. And since Magnus has come into your life you seem to glow. I bet he could hardly keep his eyes off you.”
“You’re sweet for saying it Jake,” I said, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. “Now, where’s Josie?”
“Here I am, here I am,” the old woman said, coming towards me on crutches. “I heard you two jabbering away and thought I’d come and join in. Where’s that wonderful doctor pal of yours, dear? What a lot of nonsense that newspaper printed about him today!”
“I’ll tell you about him later, Josie. You’re the priority. How are you? You look heaps better.”
“I am, thank God. But come on, let’s go and sit down and be comfortable and you can tell us all about your adventures. Where are you off to next?”
Chapter Six
I was drawn into the comforting cocoon of their tiny living room. One of its doors opened into the area behind the shop counter so we could sit chatting until Jake had to get up if the shop doorbell rang.
“Magnus is really upset about the publicity,” I told them when we were ensconced in cosy armchairs. “It’d be a nightmare to have your name emblazoned all over the front page. And I suppose he does need time on his own to digest it, to cry or scream if he needs to. But I don’t expect I’ll see him again.”
“Peta and Bree have rung several times,” Jake said. “They wanted to find out how Josie’s been, but also to check on whether we’d heard from you and your traveler. I think Peta’s secretly a bit envious because I told her what a handsome chap you’d landed.”
“I didn’t land him. I’ve been banished from his company.”
“Oh lass, don’t take it so personal. I’m sure banished is too strong a word. Like you said, he needs a little space right now. That’s all. Even Josie and I, who love each other as much now as we did from day one, need time out every so often.”
“That’s why I hurt my leg,” Josie said with a chuckle, “I needed some R and R.”
“You get plenty of that here,” I reminded her.
“Maybe. But there’s nothing like a doctor with a terrific bedside manner, is there?” she laughed. “I felt like a teenager again, I can tell you, having all those gorgeous men in white jackets visiting me.”
“Magnus certainly made me feel like a teenager,” I admitted. “Now it’s time to grow up. I’ve still got plenty of leave owing so let me help you around here until you’re on your feet again.”
“No way,” Jake said. “You’re not going to coop yourself up in here, lass. I’ve been doing a big of investigating latterly, just to keep abreast of what’s going on around town. There’s a summer school on at the University. Why don’t you book yourself in for a course and expand your mind?”
“So that it matches my body, d’you mean?” I asked bleakly.
“You know I don’t mean that. I just want you to be happy, that’s all. I’ve even got the brochure here somewhere. It was distributed in all the letter boxes, along with that suburban rag you’re so keen on, and a few of the things on offer took my fancy. Here, I’ve got it somewhere in my pile of reading matter.”
He rifled through the stack of papers, magazines and books on his side table, eventually unearthing a glossy newsletter which he handed to me.
“Now, you have a natter, you ladies,” he said, stan
ding up creakily. “I’m going to put the kettle on and bring us a nice cup of tea.”
Josie wanted to know all about the Kombi van, how I managed to produced meals on a camp stove and barbeque, how I coped with the washing and all the other minutiae only a woman who’d lived in domestic bliss all her life would have been interested in. I gladly told her, happy to see the roses back in her cheeks, keen to make up for my absence when the old couple needed me most.
Finally I turned the key in my own front door. I was relieved to see Barney looking glossy and well, but he studiously ignored me for several hours to make sure he wouldn’t forgive me lightly for leaving him. The chooks were safely locked up for the night but I went out with the torch and counted their fluffy shapes on their perches. Even with my beloved cat for company, I was overwhelmed with loneliness. The house was so quiet and unnaturally tidy. It couldn’t have been more different from cramped, fusty old Matilda with Magnus close by, a kettle or a pot bubbling away and the constant noise of the waterbirds squabbling.
Having tasted him, I wondered how I’d survive without him. I’d had no idea that love could be such an amazing thing and longed to ask Peta if she thought it was often like that, or if my time with Magnus had been a rare glimpse of paradise. I was sure it was the latter. Nobody would turn up at work, would both to do anything at all, if love was always so fabulous. My body still felt blessed, sacred, a thing of beauty, after Magnus had touched me.
I shrugged, knowing I’d weep if I dwelt on the incredible thing we’d done together. I knew that, while for me it was a momentous occasion, for him it’d probably merely been a surprisingly good little fling, already forgotten.
I re-focussed my mind. I’d miss the little things too, such as sharing the rickety card-table with him. He’d grown adept at propping up whichever of its flimsy legs decided to sink into the sandy riverbank. Most of all, I’d miss falling asleep every night to the sound of his even breathing and my own hunger for him. I’d miss the sunrises and sunsets we’d enjoyed together and our regular walks into town for supplies.
Love: Classified Page 11