He swings. The kid opposite – and he isn’t much more than a kid, barely a day over =eighteen if his skinny build is anything to go by – moves back. Then crashes a fist into Tom’s abdomen.
‘Fucking hell.’ The words slip out of me. One of the men stood nearby turns, gives me the once over. Then he turns back to the massive weights he was lifting and hoists them up over his head.
‘This is men only,’ he says, his face purpling. ‘You’ll have to go to the place in town if you’re looking to join a gym.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘I’m not here to join. I’ve come to see Tom.’ There is another thwack, another grunt from the ring. I manage to stop myself from commenting, but only just. I’ve got to be mistaken, but it looks like Tom is letting the kid hit him. Another punch lands, and I know I’m not mistaken.
I rush towards the ring, ignoring the shouts from the bloke by the door. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ I yell at Tom. ‘You’re not supposed to let him hit you!’
The kid turns in surprise, but I ignore him. All I care about is Tom. Who lowers his fists, spits out his gum shield, and gives me a half-smile that makes me panic about brain damage. ‘You said fuck,’ he says. ‘In public.’
‘What do you expect? You fucking well let him hit you!’
‘It’s boxing,’ he says. ‘He’s supposed to hit me.’
‘You’re not supposed to let him. What is wrong with you?’
He shrugs. He’s got a black eye brewing, I can see it from here, which shows what a dangerous mood he’s in. Three years of appointments, and I never saw him with so much as a shaving cut. ‘I felt like doing something outrageous.’
‘Well, pick something else,’ I yell at him. ‘Something that won’t put you in A&E.’ I feel hot and sweaty and flushed, and something else too.
‘This is turning you on, isn’t it,’ he says, and the words almost floor me, like I’m the one who’s just been punched.
I falter. ‘Yes,’ I say, and my voice is oddly quiet, and I don’t know if it’s wrong that I feel that way, and I hate that I don’t know.
‘Because it was all just about sex with you,’ he continues, his gaze fixed on me, and those words cut into me. ‘I was just about sex.’
‘No,’ I tell him. ‘No!’ The place has fallen silent around us, but I don’t care. I don’t care if they’re watching. Tom is more important than what other people might think. ‘You were never just that to me.’
‘Prove it,’ he says. ‘Go on, Ellie. Be honest, for once.’
I don’t know what he wants me to say. I don’t know what he’s expecting. So I do the only thing I can. I tell him the truth. ‘I can’t read.’ I blurt the words out. ‘Well, I can sort of read. But not properly.’ I pinch the bridge of my nose. ‘I have stupid dyslexia and I can’t read. Is that honest enough for you?’
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes his time fitting himself through the ropes, before jumping down to the floor. He lifts his wrist to his mouth, starts pulling at the laces on his glove with his teeth. ‘Finally,’ he says, as he grasps that gloved hand between his arm and his side and pulls the glove off, ‘some real honesty.’ He steps closer to me. ‘I know about your dyslexia, Ellie. I’ve known for years.’
‘But…’ I begin, then words fail me. All I can come up with is ‘You knew?’
‘Of course I knew,’ he says. ‘Why did you think I made you bring your books in so often?’
‘Was it often?’ I feel like a fool, now. It hadn’t even occurred to me that it was often. And in the past few days, I’d had the thought that he’d done it because he fancied me. ‘You must think I’m incredibly stupid.’ I thought I’d kept it hidden. I thought no one but Amber knew.
‘I don’t think that at all,’ he says, as he deals with the other glove and tosses them both into the ring. ‘And it wasn’t that hard to figure out. Anyone who took the time to look would see it.’
Those words slay me. ‘I should never have come here,’ I say tightly. ‘I’m sorry.’ I turn around and walk away from him, back towards the door, out of this place which is just another place where I don’t fit in. I feel like everyone is staring at me, at the girl who can’t read.
‘Ellie, wait!’
His hand meets my shoulder as I reach the door, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop until I’m outside.
‘Listen to me,’ he says, turning me round. The touch is blissful, sending shockwaves of desire rushing through my body. ‘I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re wonderful.’ Then he lifts his head. ‘I started the fire,’ he says.
I blink. It takes me a minute to process this. I glance at his arm. ‘Tom,’ I say. ‘Oh, Tom.’
‘I’ve never told anyone that,’ he says, with a little shake of his head, like he can’t quite believe he’s just said it. ‘My parents suspected, I think, and the insurance company refused to pay out, because they said they weren’t convinced it was an accident.’
‘Why did you do it?’
‘They fought all the time,’ he says. ‘He treated my mother like crap, but she refused to leave, because there was so much money tied up in the house. I thought if I got rid of it, they would sort themselves out. Turned out that what they actually needed was for me to spend three weeks in the burns unit.’
All sorts of things start to fall into place, like his desperate fight to control that bit of him that makes him do outrageous things. ‘What was it like?’ I ask him then.
‘Hot,’ he says. He stares off into the distance. ‘Loud. Terrifying. I lit it in the wrong place, you see. It caught me when I was trying to get out.’ He moves closer then, forcing me to look up at him. ‘It excited me. I know how wrong that sounds.’
I thought my secret was dark and shameful, but it was nothing like this. He’s given me everything, and I have only one more thing left to give him in return. ‘It doesn’t sound wrong at all. I love you,’ I say. ‘Please, Tom. Please forgive me.’
‘Ellie.’
‘Please,’ I say again. I can’t breathe. ‘I love you so much, and I’m sorry that I tried to make you go with Amber. I should have told you the truth then, only I was scared that you didn’t want me back, not like that. I thought it was just sex for you.’
‘Ellie,’ he says again. ‘Understand something. There is nothing you can do that I won’t forgive you for. These past few days have been…incredible. Fucking you. Being with you.’ He leans forward until his forehead is resting against mine. His is damp with sweat, but I don’t care. I set my hands to the hem of his T-shirt, and then slide my fingers underneath it, caressing his rock-hard abs.
‘Suck my cock,’ he says.
‘Here?’ I ask. ‘Now?’ I glance up. The alley is empty, dimly lit. It’s an outrageous place to do this.
‘Here,’ he says. ‘Now.’ He takes my hand and leads me further away from the door, into a space between a couple of parked cars. I want to do this. I want to do it so badly, and not just because he asked me to.
‘I’m not Amber,’ I blurt out. ‘She’s…’ I wave a hand in the space between us. ‘Well, I saw her go down on you. I know how much you enjoyed it.’
‘You think she’s better than you?’ He touches my face, so tenderly. ‘She could never be better than you. I told you from the off. Amber doesn’t make me hard.’
‘You looked pretty hard from where I was standing.’
‘Only because you were watching,’ he says. ‘God, I want you.’ He angles his hips forward, presses his erection against my stomach. ‘Suck me off.’
I sink to my knees in front of him, grab the sides of his shorts and tug them down. Then I grab his underwear and tug that down too. That swooping tattooed bird catches my attention long enough for me to taste it, and then I slide my mouth down, open it wider and take his cock into my mouth. I don’t even care if Amber was better than me.
He moves his hand away, and I suck down the length of him, as far as I can, anyway. Dear god, the man is huge. I mean seriously huge. My thighs tighten and my vag
ina contracts just thinking about it. And I am thinking about it. How could I not? His belly clenches and he makes a strange noise, sort of an ‘ugghhhhhh’, as I lean back a little and look up at him. His face is distorted with the pain of pleasure.
I need to touch myself. I have to touch myself. The ache between my legs is too much. I suck him in, taste the slick droplets of arousal at the head of his penis, dip my tongue into the slit to get more. His hips move forward, like he’s seeking out my tongue. ‘God, that’s good,’ he says. ‘I need to fuck your mouth a bit, is thatOK?’
‘Yes,’ I say, in a moment of heady joy. I explore his cock, every thick inch of satin hardness, the soft skin near the head, the coarse hair around the base, using my hand to hold him steady. Then his hand covers mine. His grip is much tighter than I expected, and his hand is so warm. All of him is so warm. Together we caress his dick, slowly, carefully. He doesn’t seem to be in any rush. This is him, I think to myself, as I touch the tip of my tongue to the tip of his cock and taste the drop of pre-come waiting there. He’s not weird and uptight. He’s patient and sensual and somehow, he understands all this far more than I have ever been able to, and as he holds himself steady with his hand over mine, he fucks deep into my mouth.
I press my knees tightly together and suck harder. He locks a hand around the back of my head, holds me on his cock as he stares down at me. ‘I wish I had known sooner,’ he says. ‘I wish I had known it was you three years ago. But you were always so distant. So…closed off. I didn’t know how to communicate with you. I didn’t know if I should.’
He gentles his grip then, and I work him some more, loving the way he feels in my mouth, the sharp taste of him, his shameless enjoyment of it. I don’t know why I was afraid of this for so long. I don’t know why I was so afraid of everything. The cobbles are cold and hard beneath my knees, but I’m too focused on Tom to care. We’re outside and what we’re doing is probably illegal and if we got caught, we’d probably get arrested and then both our careers would be down the pan, but he is too delicious and I cannot stop.
He slips a hand under his cock and grabs his balls. I pull back, keeping my fingers circled round his cock, and watch how he touches himself.
‘Pervert,’ he says, when he notices me watching. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too,’ I say. ‘Pervert.’
I suck him back into my mouth, slide my tongue under his foreskin, and then take him deep, as deep as I can.
‘Ellie,’ he says. I hear that rough catch in his voice. I know that sound so well, now.
I suck right to the end of his cock, bring my lips together to kiss the tip, and then I lower my hands to his thighs. I look up at him. ‘Come on my face, baby.’
He looks shocked for about half a second, and then he grins. He wraps one big hand around his erection and thrusts into his fist, using all the power in that gorgeous, hard body. I hold steady and watch this beautiful man pleasure himself. I don’t have a camera to hide behind. I don’t need one, not with him.
He groans, jerks, and then goes still. I lick my lips, my pussy tight with anticipation. Then he strokes himself one slow, final time, thighs hard under my hands, and does exactly what I asked him to do. His orgasm hits my face in hot, thick splashes, and I lick my lips.
‘Pretty,’ he says.
I lick my lips again. I can taste him. ‘Thank you,’ I say.
‘I think that’s my line,’ he says, as he tucks himself back into his shorts, and I remember where we are. He takes my hand, pulls me to my feet, and then slides an arm around my waist and pulls me tight against him. He drops the gentlest of kisses against my mouth, then lifts the hem of his T-shirt and carefully wipes my face. ‘Am I still pretty?’ I ask him.
‘Yes,’ he whispers, and then his mouth touches mine again. ‘I love you,’ he says. ‘Based on my calculations, I think it’s the forever kind. I hope that’s not a problem.’
I shake my head.
Then he lowers his mouth and whispers against my ear. ‘Are you wet?’
For a moment, the world seems to stop. Then I remember how to breathe, and it starts again. ‘Yes,’ I whisper. There’s no denying it.
‘Good,’ he says. ‘Because I really need to fuck you right now.’
We go back to his house, then. We make it inside the front door before Tom moves in between my thighs, yanks up my skirt and pulls my knickers out of the way. Then he shoves his cock inside me, all the way inside me, and fucks me long and hard. He fucks me until I forget who I am, until I explode with joy and pleasure, until there is only us in the world. He fucks me until I am myself. He does it again and again, until every day becomes that sort of day.
I still take naughty pictures. I even put a sign in the window that says Erotic Photography in scrolling white italics. Tom helped me with the spelling. Amber was my first customer. Amber and Paul. And Victoria.
And I definitely got the shot.
If you enjoyed the first in Jane O’Reilly’s Indecent… trilogy – look out for Indecent Proposal, coming March 11th from Carina UK.
Read on for a sneak preview…
Indecent Proposal
Jane O’Reilly
Chapter One
I knew that coming to the wedding was a mistake, but I did it anyway. I knew the bottle of pink champagne wouldn’t help, but I made friends with it anyway. I knew when I watched those slender platinum bands slide onto trembling fingers that they only belonged to each other, now. I knew when I saw him kiss her that something had been made that I could not be part of. So I clutched my bridesmaid’s bouquet and I fixed on a smile, and I pretended to laugh at the speeches, and then I asked the man stood behind me in the buffet queue if he had a big cock.
‘I doOK,’ he replied, once the shock had worn off. ‘I’ve never had any complaints. My name is Lucas, by the way.’
‘Amber,’ I replied. ‘Are you sure it’s big? Most women are too polite to complain. Or they just haven’t seen enough cocks and don’t know what a big one really looks like.’
‘Can I assume that you aren’t most women?’
I tipped my head to one side, and gave him a thorough perusal. ‘You can.’ I could already feel the tingle of excitement starting, the curiosity and anticipation that come with the flirting, when you both know what’s going to happen. We could have carried on like that all night and maybe nothing would have happened. Maybe we both would have put it down to too much alcohol and pretended we couldn’t remember the next day. Maybe we still would.
But then I sat through the speeches, everyone raised their glasses to toast the happy couple and I looked at him, with his glass in his hand, with his chocolate eyes and scruffy suit and height, and I thought why the hell not? ‘I think you should show it to me,’ I said. ‘Then the next time you’re asked about size, you’ll be able to give an honest answer.’
I set down my bouquet and excused myself from the table, then I exited the ballroom with a flutter in my stomach and a swing in my hips. The bridesmaid’s dress that Victoria had so carefully picked out for me pulled in my waist and pushed up my tits, putting it all on offer. I knew she’d picked it as much for herself as for Paul. I knew that because she’d buried her face in my cunt in the changing room of the bridal boutique.
It had started out as Paul and I. But then Paul had fallen in love with Victoria, and rather than accept it and let him go, when she proposed that I climb into bed with the pair of them, I thought why the hell not?
Only the vows they’d made today changed everything, and I knew why the hell not. I was nothing more than a sex toy for the two of them. When they got bored of me, they’d toss me aside. I had to end it before that happened.
Screwing some random bloke at the wedding seemed a good place to start, as much to prove to myself that I could as anything else. I pushed open the door that led out into the corridor, taking a moment to get my bearings. The hotel was vast, luxurious and surely littered with hideaways designed for those in need of a quick, hard fuck.
I left the lights off. Something about the darkness excited me. I didn’t want to see. I wanted the oblivion of the blackness, which swirled around the champagne in my system, shutting down some senses, heightening others.
His hands found my waist. Good hands. Strong, firm, unafraid. But I wasn’t there for his hands. I was there for his cock and I found it, my fingers searching out the hard edges of his belt buckle and the small pull of the zip below. I dealt with both without hesitation. ‘Not bad,’ I said, as I slid my palm down his length until I found the heavy weight of his balls. I cupped them, and the air left his body in a rush. ‘Not bad at all. Length is acceptable. Width is…’ Plentiful, for want of a better word.
He laughed. ‘As I said, I’ve had no complaints.’
And wasn’t going to get any from me. Not when his hands were pulling at my skirt like that, then his fingers were inside the feather-light thong that I’d slipped on under my ankle-length dress. Then it was my turn to exhale. ‘I want a fuck, not a grope,’ I told him. ‘Pleasant though this is.’
‘A woman who knows what she wants,’ he said, as he pulled back from me. ‘Who am I to argue?’ I heard the rustle of fabric, the thump of a wallet being tossed to the floor, the snap and tug of a condom, and it was clear that I’d chosen well. Hung and smart. Is there a better combination in a man?
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