by Carla Blake
Of course she blamed Polly for her lack of successful relationships, although in retrospect, maybe that was being a little unfair. Polly had only been trying to help, tired, Rachel supposed, of watching her mope round the house complaining about her lack of a love life. But she hadn’t expected Polly to actually do anything about it, aside from her usual advice to stop whinging and go out and meet someone, and when she’d plonked the pamphlet down in front of her, announcing, rather smugly, that she had enrolled Rachel on the books of a lesbian dating agency, Rachel hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry.
Eventually, she’d settled for appalled and screwing up her face into indignation, had asked how could she? Polly was supposed to be her friend! Not someone who went behind her back, giving her intimate details to dating agencies! Didn’t she know they were for sad cases? For people who had no social life. She wasn’t like that! She had a social life – usually - and what about the risks? Blind dates were dangerous! She could be paired off with anyone!
Or, Polly quickly reminded her, she could find the love of her life, and as for handing over her personal details, well Rachel could stop right there. The only information she’d handed over so far was Rachel’s name and age. Nothing else. The dating agency wouldn’t do a thing until Rachel had contacted them herself and been over to meet them, which was what she was going to do, wasn’t it?
Rachel hadn’t been convinced though and it was only Polly’s constant nagging and insistence that she wasn’t going to meet anyone watching re-runs of ‘Friends’, that had finally worn her down..
A rather anaemic looking woman called Jan had been her first date. Dressed in a lime green suit and smothered in way too much perfume, she’d introduced herself as someone who ‘liked sex and a laugh’, before going on to order the most expensive bottle of wine the bar had to offer and declaring that the sex she had planned for her and Rachel would be so much better once her ‘hubbie’ joined in.
Rachel had nearly choked on the overpriced vintage and coughing most of it onto her sleeve, had emphatically insisted that ‘no way was anyone’s husband joining in’! Threesomes were most definitely not on her agenda and if Jan thought otherwise then she could think again.
Jan had not been impressed and stabbing a finger on the table wanted to know if Rachel had any idea just how far she had come to have Rachel waste her time? She’d then got up to leave but not before letting Rachel know that she thought she was a prude, that the size of her tits was never going to get her anyone better, and that if she didn’t ‘loosen up a bit’ she would have sex life of a seventy year old in no time at all. Then she’d stormed out. Leaving Rachel to pay the bill.
Date two had been with Emily. A pretty brunette with freckles across her nose and an impish smile, who’d kissed Rachel politely on both cheeks before insisting on paying for the first round of drinks. She’d then led her to a quiet corner before gently touching her glass with Rachel’s and proceeding to chug down her Guinness at a rate of knots whilst bombarding Rachel with a long and detailed list of every woman she’d ever slept with.
Rachel, rather nonplussed by this unexpectedly candid confession, had listened politely. Trying to sympathize in all the right places and at the same time work out why Emily’s relationships had all ended so abruptly? Emily seemed nice enough, she didn’t smell bad, she paid her own way and there didn’t seem to be any husband lurking in the wings, so what was it about her that had put off all these other women?
Then Emily mentioned it. She was into bondage.
Rachel’s heart sank. Ropes and zips didn’t turn her on at all and when Emily went on to say that her fantasy would be to tie Rachel to the bed and then fuck her with a dildo so incredibly long, that had it actually been inserted to its full length, would have undoubtedly emerged from her throat, Rachel made her excuses and got out of there fast.
Before Emily could handcuff her to the furniture.
“Bugger.” Kate huffed, crossing her arms and then pouting comically. “And to think I was so looking forward to tying you up too. Damn the woman! Now what am I going to do with all those sex toys?”
“Yes, I saw those.” Rachel admitted, raising an eyebrow. “When I was looking for a note from you. Exactly how many dildos have you got in that box?”
“A few. Most of them were presents and you never know when you might need a spare. But what were you doing looking for a note under the bed? Why would I put a note under there?”
“I didn’t say you would, I just thought it might have fallen off the table and wafted under. Anyway, disaster number three. You ready for this?”
Her name was Sophie and not only was she blonde and petite, she spoke with a soft Irish burr that made Rachel practically melt and want to collapse into bed with her the minute they could get out of the restaurant and find somewhere suitable.
If only Sophie had felt the same way. Instead she’d taken Rachel’s hand and slowly and regretfully shaking her head had explained, that for her, sex shouldn’t be hurried. It should be savoured, she went on, enjoyed. Why didn’t they wait a while? Until they got to know each other a little better? Rachel didn’t mind, did she?
But Rachel did mind. More than she let on and crestfallen, although trying not to show it, she’d found herself agreeing and settling for the brief hug Sophie had acquiesced to give her at the end of the evening, little knowing of the merry, little dance Sophie was about to take her on. But dance she did. Promising much and delivery nothing, until it got to the point when even getting even a kiss from Sophie required a Herculean effort.
She hadn’t cleaned her teeth, she’d sigh, running her tongue across the even rows and driving Rachel almost wild with desire, and she didn’t want to snog her with smelly breath. It was the wrong time of the month. She had a headache. Or a horribly, early start in the morning. But - they’d have sex soon, she promised! And it would be worth the wait. She just didn’t feel like it tonight. Sorry.
So Rachel had waited and waited, whilst Sophie, beautiful and Irish and tempting enough to eat, had kept her dangling. Her kisses, when Rachel was lucky enough to get one, remaining too short to be considered a snog, whilst on the rare occasions Rachel was allowed to fleetingly touch either her breasts or between her legs Sophie carefully controlled the situation by firmly wrapping her own hand around Rachel’s, preventing her from staying too long or touching too much.
Rachel could hardly stand it and more than once she thought about simply cutting her losses and leaving her. But then Sophie would smile at her and whisper soft words into her ear, sweetening her disappointment with the promise that soon they would go to bed together, and she would melt all over again.
Her birthday, however, proved to be the final straw, when ringing her at work, Sophie asked Rachel what she would like for a gift?
Rachel had already had her answer. “You.” She said.
“So you finally got to fuck her then.” Kate said, lighting another cigarette and blowing the smoke out to the side. “Good for you, although how you kept your patience for that long God only knows! I would have thrown her on the bed and taken her whether she liked it or not, the little bitch. You should have had her for bloody cruelty, you know, mucking you about like that.”
“And what’s taking an unsuspecting colleague in the filing room then?” Rachel asked, suppressing a smile. “An act of kindness?”
“No. An act of lust. And don’t tell me you didn’t like it, cos I know you did. You were soaking by the time I got my hand inside your pants.”
“Kate!”
“ Well, you were! So don’t try to deny it. But what happened next? Did you end up screwing her?”
“Not exactly. For one thing it took me ages to reach her house.”
Southern rail had done it again and now, standing on the platform listening to yet another announcement stating that they were very sorry, but due to engineering works the next train would be delayed by
half an hour, Rachel glanced sourly at a fellow commuter struggling to juggle briefcase, paper and polystyrene cup and wondered just how much longer she would be left standing there? They had said half an hour, half an hour ago and at the moment it looked like it could easily be stretched to another hour plus twenty minutes on top of that, and she was really worried that if she stood here any longer, Sophie would cancel the special birthday dinner she was supposed to have planned and use the time instead to think of a reason why she and Rachel could not have sex again tonight, and she really didn’t want that to happen. Not tonight. Not on her birthday. Not when she was having to play with herself for hours on end just to get rid of some of the frustration
Southern rail, however, must have decided to take pity on her, because ten minutes later the delayed train pulled up at the platform, and climbing aboard, Rachel took a seat opposite Mr. Juggling three things at once, and smiling secretly to herself at what she hoped was about to come, namely her, settled down to stare at the passing scenery.
Thankfully, Sophie had also appeared to realise that tonight was not the night to mess Rachel around, and opening the door, dressed in a pale blue cocktail dress that hugged her curves and gently enhanced the colour of her eyes, she offered Rachel a glass of wine, took her coat and then led her into the dining room where she had set a romantic table for two.
The food that followed was superb, the wine even more so and afterwards they’d sipped brandy in the lounge, where for the first time Sophie had offered her mouth freely for Rachel to kiss. Then she’d touched her. Tentatively at first, her hands barely making contact before pulling away to safer territory, until Rachel, quietly going nuts with want, gently guided Sophie’s hands to her breasts and then allowed herself to tumble into spasms of pleasure, as Sophie, emboldened by wine, played with her nipples and then breathlessly whispered into her ear that now was the time. They were going to bed.
“ And I bet she came like a fuckin’ train!” Kate interjected when Rachel briefly paused for breath. “The quiet ones always do.”
“Do they?” Rachel replied dryly. “I wouldn’t know. I can tell you that Sophie certainly didn’t, and neither did I. She just left me there, Kate. Undressed, turned on as hell and just when I thought things were finally going to get going, announcing that she was going to ‘freshen up’ because cooking had left her all messy. Leaving me to lay there like a complete and utter pillock for ten whole minutes before it finally sank in that she wasn’t coming back. And when I went to look for her, you know what? She wasn’t even in the fucking house! Instead she’d left the front door wide open and a note on the kitchen table saying she was really sorry, but she couldn’t sleep with me because she wasn’t sure if she was gay or not.”
“What? You’re kiddin’ me! What did you do?”
“What could I do? I got dressed and went home. After I’d poured red wine all over her bloody bed. But what a fuckin’ waste of time! I mean, why didn’t she say something if she was so unsure? Why keep me dangling like that? I could’ve killed her!”
“You and me both babe. But what did she say when you asked her? I mean, you have seen her since, haven’t you?”
“ No, I haven’t and I don’t intend to, which is probably just as well. I’d probably rip her lungs out and feeding them to dogs.”
“Blimey! Remind me never to upset you! But it would serve her right if you did, bloody cow. But I can see why you went with men for a while. After that even I might have been tempted.”
“Oh, but it wasn’t Sophie that ruined it for me.” Rachel said, returning Kate’s hug and then encouraging her to sit back down again. “That privilege went to Joanne.”
“The bird at the pub.” Kate reminded herself. “I’d almost forgotten about her. Christ, what did she do? Don’t tell me she gave you the run around too.”
“Oh, no, we got into bed alright. Several times.”
And every time it was wonderful. Joanne was loving and giving and after the fiasco with Sophie a total relief. She also made sure Rachel came at least twice before kissing her goodnight and usual picked up again where they’d left off in the morning.
But that night Joanne had been different and instead of being her usual chatty and cheerful self, she’d been moody and grumpy from the moment Rachel had arrived and instead of inviting her to join her in a glass of wine as was their customary greeting, had stormed around the house slamming doors and picking fights for no obvious reason, before slumping down in front of the TV and saying absolutely nothing.
Rachel hadn’t really known what to do and in an effort to salvage what was left of the evening, had suggested that maybe a cuddle might help? Joanne’s response to that was to grab her hand, drag her off to the bedroom and before Rachel could protest, chuck her down on the duvet where she kissed her with a roughness she had never shown before.
Perplexed Rachel had ignored it, figuring that once they’d both got turned on, Joanne would forget about being aggressive and make love in her usual, gentle manner, and at first it seemed to work. Her kisses became softer and more passionate and her hands wandered. Undressing Rachel with consummate ease before pulling off her own clothes and gently taking Rachel’s nipple in her mouth to roll beneath her tongue.
Relieved, Rachel had groaned and spreading her legs, gave Joanne the perfect excuse to delve between her thighs and start licking her pussy, and it was then, just as Joanne was lapping at her clit and Rachel was starting to feel the beginnings of a serious orgasm starting to build, that she’d happened to glance up at the open bedroom door and see, floating half way up the narrow strip of darkness, a small red light, winking on and off.
Alarm bells had immediately gone off. There was no way that little, red light could represent anything other than what it did and furious - how could Joanne do this to her – she’d shoved Joanne away from her sodden pussy and leapt from the bed, dashing stark naked out onto the landing where she’d grabbed hold of a very guilty looking bloke who was standing meekly in the shadows with a camcorder still running in his hand.
He’d turned out to be Joanne’s boyfriend. Cashing in on his girlfriend’s penchant for the same sex, by filming her sexual encounters on his camcorder and then posting them on the internet.
Rachel had been furious! Joanne, petulant. Her boyfriend merely dismissive and surprisingly unresponsive, as Rachel, grabbing the camcorder this time, had thrown it down the stairs. Smashing it into several very satisfying pieces from which Rachel had grabbed the incriminating evidence, gathered up her clothes and then thundered out of the house, shouting over her shoulder that the pair of them should expect a visit from the police any day soon!
“And did you?” Kate asked excitedly. “Call the police? And what about the tape? Have you still got it?’
“No, I haven’t!” Rachel frowned. “Why? Did you want to watch it?”
“Hell yes! Watching your girlfriend being licked out by another woman. How erotic is that?!”
“Not very if you ask me.” Rachel huffed. “God Kate, don’t you get it? They were filming me for public display! How bloody humiliating would that have been? What if someone I knew had seen it? What if my mum..! Anyway, I chucked it out ages ago, so you couldn’t watch it even if you wanted to.”
“Bugger.” Kate mumbled before looking sorry. “But you’re right. I shouldn’t get turned on by something like that. It’s just the thought of you, naked. Being licked! Makes me… oh, shit, let’s change the subject. What happened next? Did you go to the police?”
“No. I thought about it, then I thought about how embarrassing it would be having to explain my own part in the whole sorry mess, and I ended up sending them an anonymous e-mail letting them know what Joanne and what’s- his- face were up to.”
Kate nodded sagely. “I probably would have done the same thing.” She said. “And sorry about wanting to watch the tape. But is that why you decided to give up on women for a while, or
am I wrong about that too? This is where Simon comes in, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes.” Rachel said, running a hand across her eyes. “This is where Simon comes in.”
Seven
“How do I describe Simon? Let’s see. How about a cruel, vicious bastard, who thinks he’s God’s gift to women. That about sums him up, although he wasn’t like that when I first met him. Then he was just charming.. and successful, that went some way to swinging it, and very, very attentive, or at least he was until I finally agreed to go out with him and then he changed like the bloody wind, but by then, of course, it was too late.”
“Why?” Kate asked, lighting her third cigarette of the day. “I mean if he was such a pig why didn’t you just dump him as soon as you found out? Oh, shit! He didn’t get you pregnant did he?”
“No!” Rachel said firmly. “Nothing like that, and believe me if there’d been any chance of having a little Simon on the way, I would have been round the clinic in a flash! No, what he did was ten times worse than that. He tortured me. Not physically mind you. Mentally. He played mind games with me, Kate. Sick, twisted little mind games that if I failed to understand or react quickly enough to, he would use as a reason to punish me.”
They had moved into the lounge, opting for the comfort of the sofa over the hard backed chairs of the kitchen. A safer bet, Rachel considered, than Kate’s suggestion that they go back to bed whilst Rachel told the rest of her story.
Not that Rachel didn’t want to. The thought of snuggling under the duvet whilst she related her experiences with Simon was almost too tempting to turn down, but she also knew that if they hopped back into bed now all her good intentions would go out the window and they’d end up making love, and everything she wanted to say to Kate would be forgotten in the rush of passion and she might never get up the courage to tell her again. And she really did need to tell her what Simon had done to her, and maybe, if she was totally honest, use it as another way to get Kate to stay with her, which was a shitty way to think, emotional blackmail and all that, but still didn’t stop her considering it. Because the fear had not gone away. It was still there. Mocking her. Tormenting her with the promise that Kate would leave her the minute someone better came along. And she hated it. Really hated it, and it didn’t matter how often she told herself that it was never going to happen, Kate just wasn’t like that, it was still there. The awful legacy of having been with Simon.