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Wednesday.
The Hon. Lilly Caterham had asked me out to lunch. Since I was ‘resting’ as we in the acting profession actually never say, it was no problem for me. Since Lilly was massively wealthy it was no problem for her either.
Lilly had thrown a party on the Saturday before we met and I’d ended up in one of her bedrooms with the stunning Indian doctor, Anita Choudhury. Now we were sitting in a rather lovely bistro, drinking a bottle of chablis and waiting for our starters.
Lilly took a pull from her glass. ‘Harry Lomax is a sensation. I have decided to have him cloned!’
‘While you’re about it could you get Anita cloned too?’
‘Never had you down for the easy lay, darling. Always thought you liked a bit of courtship.’
‘Rules were made to be broken.’
She grinned. ‘Judging from the row you made, you didn’t break it, you shattered it.’
‘I’d have thought you were too busy to listen to others and it’s rude to eavesdrop.’
‘True. God, what a stud. My Uncle Bernard had a stallion called Harry. Think there might be a connection? Anyway, tell me about the delicious doctor. Seeing her again?’
‘She said she’d call to invite me out on a date.’
‘She will then. Good sort, is Anita. Daddy was the Ambassador to the Court of St James you know.’
I nodded. ‘She told me.’
‘You had time for talking? Anyway, good luck with that.’
‘How did you get to know her?’
Another pull from her wine glass and a pause while she topped our glasses up. “Remember Horsey Horsefall?’
How could I forget Horsey? She was Lilly’s Deputy Head Girl at school and so named because she had teeth like Uncle Bernard’s Harry and, as Lilly had once said, could eat a carrot through a tennis racket. I nodded.
Her flow was interrupted by the arrival of our starters. Then she continued.
‘Well, Horsey and I have kept in touch. She went up to Oxford and did Politics and Economics then got a job at the Foreign Office. Apparently they like brains more than looks, so Horsey was in luck.’ I laughed. ‘So the FO threw this reception and Horsey asked me along to add a touch of class. You know the sort of thing; meet the Hon this and the Lady that and so on. There was His Excellency, Ambassador Choudhury accompanied by said Anita since dear old Mumsy was laid up with some lurgy or other. She did him proud; schmoozed the locals et cet including me. Told me she was at the BGH and we sort of became chums. I decided I liked her, rather a lot in fact. Great sense of humour and when she told me she was as gay as Henley regatta I thought of you.’
‘So I have Horsey to thank?”
‘Well, both of us really. I decided to have my party and happily you were both available.’ She gave me one of her looks, ‘It seems you were available in more ways than one, Darling.’
My phone was lying on the table and it rang. The caller’s ID was clearly visible: ‘Anita.’
‘Best you answer that.’
I did and received the good news that Anita really did want to invite me on a date and would the following Saturday evening be okay? It would have been okay if I’d had to return from Australia for it but I simply said it would and we agreed a time, 8pm and a place, a wine bar/restaurant near the Roman Baths.
‘You, my little dyke friend, have pulled.’
‘Early days.’
‘Faye, do me a favour.’ I raised an inquisitive eyebrow. ‘Just because the vile Hannah didn’t see you as the long term solution doesn’t mean everyone else is blind too. And, for fuck’s sake, you’re allowed simply to enjoy. Go with the flow. That is the Hon. Lilly’s rather well-informed opinion, anyway. And, since I am fucking high class, you of the lower orders should pay heed.’
Little did Lilly know that that was my precise intention.
‘As it happens,’ she continued, ‘I think I might have some news myself relatively soon.’
I looked at her with my best attempt at a penetrating gaze. ‘News? Of what?’
‘Did you ever meet Horsey’s brother?’
‘Cant say I did.’
‘Well, truth to tell he’s a bit of class. Army, of course, but no dimwit. I’ve been sort of hanging around with him between wars et cet and he’s been back on the market since the little wifey fucked off home to Boooorston (she elongated the first vowel and shoved in the ‘r’ in an apparent attempt at a Bostonian accent). Apparently she didn’t like Perry being away so much. Not sure she’d have given a flying if he’d got his balls blown off but,’ she grinned, ‘I would. They’re gorgeous.’
‘And?’
And what.’
‘The “news” you boil.’
‘Oh, well, I rather think he’s going to ask me to tie the knot. His divorce will be sorted next Wednesday. I know, I know. Bit bloody bourgeois for a Caterham, marriage and all the attendant shit but I’m not getting any younger and he is absolutely bloody gorgeous, so probably my last chance to lash him to my bed.’
‘How come I had no idea you and Perry,’ his name came to me from the distant past, ‘were an item? And what about Harry Lomax?’
‘Well, the tosser’s hardly ever here so you, with your own current state of leg splitting involvement, probably just haven’t see us together. Oh, Harry’s just a diversion while Perry’s off defending the realm.’
‘But, Lilly …….’
‘I like secrets.’ And that, it seemed, was that.
Saturday.
I chose a dress that I’d bought to impress Hannah and never got round to wearing for her, bitch. Nonetheless I still liked it and hoped it would do the trick. It was pale blue linen (blue suits me) and has a scooped neck, quite tight to the waist and flared to my knees. I decided that a little bit of the finest lingerie in my drawer would suit the summer weather and so, with a scrap of silk that passed for knickers, bare legs and blue sandals with decent heels I sallied forth to meet the exotic doctor.
‘Sorry I’m late. God, I seem to have to say that every time I go out.’
‘Twenty minutes is not a cause for apology.’
I had actually been sitting there nursing a glass of wine from the bottle in the ice bucket beside the table with my heart in my mouth but I wasn’t going to say that. I’d stood as she arrived looking gorgeous in a green dress that must have cost a packet, her hair loose and a cream silk and linen mix jacket. Her shoes had almost no heel but she still towered over me as we kissed hello.
‘Bloody patients. I had to stay a bit later than planned because some old bird decided she was going to provide me with a crucial learning point for my students. That is to say, how to get her back from the jaws of death. Thoughtless, I call it. But never mind all that; how are you? You look good’
We talked. I found it easy to. She was amusing, engaging, interesting and interested. I told her about my family; Dad the CEO of an engineering firm, Mum the housewife and would-be poet.
She lifted an eyebrow. ‘Engineering? That’s almost trade. I’m surprised Lilly mixed with you.’
I laughed at her understanding of the English class system and remarked that Lilly was many things but conventional wasn’t one of them. That made her grin.
‘How did they feel about you being…..’
‘Gay?’
‘I was going to say an actress but both would be interesting.’
‘Dad didn’t care, Mum was indifferent. To be honest she lived life in a bubble of herself. That’s partly why they sent me off to school.’ She smiled. ‘As to the acting bit, well, Dad just said, “Good luck with that,” meaning, I think, that the fact I had been in a few school productions and could remember my lines wasn’t the firmest basis for a career decision.’
‘Tough choice.’
‘Oh no, the choice was easy. Getting any work is the hard part.’
‘Are you any good?’
‘Did you not see my Goose?’ I was referring back to the advert that I had starred in and told her about at the party. ‘Or my tea bag?’
‘They passed me by, I fear. Had I known I would have taken more interest.
‘I was nominated for an award for it.’ The eyebrow lifted again. ‘The cast had a party and I was nominated for “Best Beak” but I was pipped by the girl who played the Mother Goose.’
‘Oh, bad luck. Anything in the pipeline.’
‘Odd you should ask. Felciity Caterham, sister to the rapacious Lilly, is my agent. She has asked me if I’d be interested in doing a period drama for the Beeb. Apparently it’s a smallish part, daughter of some noble or other. It’s planned for a next month start and is to be filmed in and around this lovely, Georgian city.’
Anita’s hand covered mine. ‘That’s marvelous and you’ll be local.’
Why did that make my heart leap? We’d been talking all through dinner. I have absolutely no idea what I ate, all my attention was on Anita.
Over coffee I asked her if she’d like a drink at my place which was only five minutes away.
‘Well, Faye, the thought does, I admit, interest me but I have a rule about no sex on a first date.’
‘But I thought…..’
‘Firm rule, I’m afraid and this is most definitely our first date, wouldn’t you say?’ There was a half smile on her lips.
I thought for a moment. ‘I have been invited to a party last Saturday and wondered if you would come with me.’ She looked perplexed. ‘I thought we could make Saturday our first date retrospectively as it were? Then this would be, officially, our second. Doesn’t mean we have to do anything but it would mean your rule could be applied.’
‘But that would mean I broke it on Saturday.’
‘I’ve thought of that. We had taken drink and rules do tend to go out the window when drink has been taken, don’t you think?’
‘Oh, I’d love to join you at the party. What should I have worn?’
‘Perhaps the most beautiful saree I have ever seen?’
‘A distinct possibility. Right, I’ll have seen you there.’
We held hands all the way to my flat. I opened my front door and led her into my sitting room. I had spent an age getting the place tidy in case she came and the low lights were on. She removed her jacket, took a seat and her dress rode up a little to reveal the glorious long thigh. I poured us a couple of brandies and sat facing her.
‘Thanks for the invitation to dinner.’
‘Least I could since you invited me to the party.’
‘Coffee?’
‘Perhaps later?’
She stood up and placed her brandy, untouched, on a side table and took my hand. I stood too and her arms went around me, pulling me to her. I had to stand on tiptoe to let her kiss me properly and I sighed as her tongue entered my mouth, searching inside me. My neck was arched backwards the better to make the contact and my hands slid up her sides. I felt her hands in my hair and on the back of my neck under it and, well, that sort of does it for me. One hand detached itself from my neck and covered my breast and for some reason I couldn’t explain I felt she was taking her time as it rested, flat, between my tits. The kiss went on and on and I didn’t want it to stop. The other hand was exploring my back then and seemed to find what it was searching for. The zip in the middle of the back of the neckline slid easily down and her hand slipped inside and stroked my back.
She broke the kiss then. Leaning back she looked straight into my eyes and the hand that was resting on my chest moved to cover my breast and palmed my nipple that was showing very clear signs of enjoyment. I couldn’t take my eyes off hers.
‘Can I take you to bed?’
I smiled. ‘Second date. I don’t see why not, do you?’
‘Absolutely no reason at all.’
I led the way, our hands joined and when we got into my softly lit bedroom (which I had left that way in case this should happen) she squeezed my hand.
‘Did you expect this?’ She turned me as she asked.
‘Expect? No. Hope for, yes.’
We kissed again then and with a bit of fumbling we managed to get each other’s dress off without breaking the kiss too often. She was wearing a cream bra which she undid because, I think, she couldn’t wait for me to do it and I gasped a little because I hadn’t really seen them so clearly before and they did a lovely little drop and lift that made me a bit giddy. Her knickers were cream too and contrasted beautifully with her brown skin. I fear I wasn’t in the mood for waiting now and I leant down a little and tenderly kissed each gorgeous nipple as my hands roamed around her back. Hers were once more in my hair and I felt the urge to go lower, bending my knees as I licked down her firm tummy, around her navel and, as my knees touched the floor, so my face nuzzled against the cream knickers.
I thought her tightening grip on my hair might be a restraining order but it wasn’t, so I paid the appropriate attention to her, kissing around the edges of the knickers, licking the whisps of hair curling out and kissing the front of the panties over her lips.
I pulled them down and out of the way and let my tongue and mouth roam freely. She made little noises that encouraged me until she sat on the bed, her legs wide apart and my face buried between them. At one point she tried to pull me up but I wasn’t having any of that yet. I remained firmly in contact and felt her lips open to my tongue and I could taste her moisture which I enjoyed for as long as I could before being unable to resist her pulling me up to kiss me again.
We lay beside each other, kissing and stroking and then she pushed my shoulder so I lay back and her hand went between my legs and covered my cunt. The scrap of silk was no match for her strong, surgeon’s fingers and suddenly she was inside me, two fingers stroking deep and purposefully. Her hair covered her face as she slithered down to kiss my nipples and I could feel myself become increasingly excited. She seemed to sense this because she removed her fingers and slowly, very deliberately pulled the knickers off me, moving around the bed until her hair was cascading beautifully over my thighs and she lowered her face to my cunt. She let out a small pleasure sigh as she encountered my flood and suddenly her knees were either side of my face and her pussy was just above my mouth. That didn’t last as I lifted my head just enough to close the gap, my hands on her arse and thighs.
We sucked, licked, probed and caressed until first she, then I orgasmed. It wasn’t quiet but it was simply gorgeous. I know I must have bucked and squirmed because I felt her sort of pin me down until I’d finished.
She manoeuvred to lie beside me again and the kissing was tender, her fingers tracing my face, mine tracing hers. We lay together, enjoying the deep intimacy that follows a mutual climax. After a while I slipped out of bed and went to the sitting room to recover our brandies and we sat, talking, side by side and drinking the warm spirit.
She picked up my knickers.
‘No respectable woman would wear these on a second date,’ she said, grinning.
‘I know but they were all I could find, sorry.’
‘Liar! God but they are lovely.’ Idly, she used them to stroke my pussy and that got me going again and it was not long before I’d rolled to straddle her thigh and press my own between hers. We kissed and rubbed and held each other until we were panting and thrusting at each other until we both came, not simultaneously but close.
We spent the night sleeping occasionally and waking each other up to indulge more.
By the time Sunday announced itself with the clamour of church bells we were exhausted but in the beautiful way that great sex tires you. My heart almost sang when, as I lay across her breasts, my hair over her and her hands on me, she said, ‘I think we need to spend more time together, don’t you?’ I hoped my nod was enough and so it seemed to be because she patted my hair.
Thursday
Lilly rang. ‘Any chance we might have supper?’
‘When?’
‘Tonight, you dunce.’
Anita wasn’t free that evening so I was and I agreed to have supper with Lilly at a restaurant near the theatre. I’d asked if she had any news but she told me to ‘fucking well wait, darling; nosey cow.’
The restaurant mainly survives on pre and post theatre diners so we, dining at 8, were among a select few.
‘Did we spend a little time prone with the good doctor this weekend?’
‘Mind your own business and for fuck’s sake tell me.’
‘Well now before I break the news I want to ask you a favour, you being my longest serving acolyte. Well, two favours in fact.’
‘Then do.’
‘Right, favour number one. Would you be good enough to be my “Best Woman?’
‘Oh my god, he’s done it and you said yes.’
‘I’ve always said you had a quick brain in you. Like lubricated lightning.’
The table almost collapsed as I struggled out of my chair to give her a big hug and kiss.
‘Unhand me, you filthy pervert. Any opportunity to snog me.’ She was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
So we expressed huge joy and I ordered a bottle of bubbles and we ignored the looks from the other customers.
‘You said two favours.’
‘Did I? Oh yes. Now, well, this one might be the tricky one.’ She did that look she does when she wants a real favour. Lilly had once rescued me from Penzance when I had broken an ankle. It was true that she arrived in a bloody Land Rover, probably the least comfortable way to travel four hundred miles with a leg in plaster but since, as she explained, ‘I feel a complete tit driving the Rolls,’ I could hardly complain. Consequently, I had no option but to agree, pretty much no matter what she wanted.
‘As my “Best Woman” you will, naturally be required to make a speech.’
‘Christ, Lilly, couldn’t I just carry you to the register office on my shoulders on a unicycle?’
‘Now, it’s odd you should mention that.’ I assumed she was joking but she continued. ‘When the Hon Peregrine Horsefall, for such is Perry’s real name, poor blister, was up at Oxford and before he joined up he and I had a bit of a fling. He was a complete arse of course but yummy. Anyway, for a dare he rode a unicycle along the precinct wall of his college.’
‘Boys will be boys, I understand.’
‘Yes, well this particular little escapade ended in tears when he forgot there was broken glass on the top of one section of the wall which punctured his tyre and his ego and he fell off the wall and landed atop the Vice Chancellor’s Jaguar. Both he and the Jag suffered significant damage which meant he was nearly rusticated as well as hospitalised. His dear Pop, Bertie, sorted out the rustication probably by paying a substantial lump of cash to the VC. I visited Perry in hospital to caress the fevered brow. Also gave him a blow job when the nurse wasn’t looking which, as I recall, went down rather well. No pun intended. After that he’s been known to all his mates as Perry O’coursefall.’
You had to hear Lilly’s delivery to gain the full impression of this, I was almost creased with laughter.
‘Stop, stop. Yes I’ll give a speech but for goodness’s sake stop or I’ll piss myself.’
‘Knew I’d convince you.’
September the same year
Anita and I were, by this time, an established couple. Lilly called us ‘the long and the short of it’ and this rather caught on amongst our friends.
Horsey had organised a hen weekend for Lilly in Dartmouth, a pretty little coastal town in Devon with a beautiful river flowing through it. We all, twenty-six of us, arrived on the Friday evening in time for a meal which she organised to be delivered to the twelve bedroom villa her family owned there.
The following day we had a clay pigeon shooting morning, followed by a tour of a winery.
‘My view, Horsey,’ said Lilly, ‘the shooting would have been a sight more interesting if we’d done it after the wine tour.’
Horsey Horsefall had grown into an attractive woman. Her teeth were somehow tidier, her nose smaller and her face generally softer.
Lilly again. ‘I reckon about £40 thousand, that little lot. Worth it though, she looks almost human.’
In the evening we went to a performance of The Flying Dutchman which was performed on the back of a truck in a huge garden beside the river. Sounds naff perhaps but it was brilliant. We all glammed up in evening dresses and, need I say, got roundly blotto on yet more chanmpagne.
Anita and I were sharing a room with wonderful views across the estuary and I have to say dressing for the event took a while. This was for two reasons.
The first reason was that as we were sliding, post ablutions, into the lingerie Anita suddenly got a bit amorous. This meant lingerie coming off rather quickly and a frenzied bout of sex. In the weeks leading up to this, Anita and I had spent quite a bit of time getting to know each other rather well in and out of the sack. In the sack, and I put this discovery down to her medical training, Anita had found something about me I had never known. She was a natural experimenter and when, one delicious afternoon, she had the middle finger of her right hand inside me and her thumb rubbing my clit so her two digits sort of made the universal sign for money but with my sensitive parts in between, I had, well, exploded. I mean by that that I had orgasmed rather spectacularly and quickly but, additionally, I had, as she described it, ‘cried her a river.’
This did not mean I had ‘squirted’ but that I’d just produced an inordinate amount of girl-juice.
Anyway, she also found that whilst there was no guarantee of it working every time she reckoned it was worth a try now and again and this time was one of those when it did work.
‘You’re such a messy cow. You’ll have to have another shower.’ She wasn’t wrong but, as I told her, it was her bloody fault.
‘I’m wearing flats,’ she said as I finally got into my heels. ‘Walking round a garden in those will probably mean you end up stuck like a croquet hoop in the lawn. So I left the heels behind and spent the evening holding my dress up off the grass.
‘Christ,’ said Lilly, ‘you look like something out of Gone With The bloody Wind.’
The second reason for our delay was that as we were leaving, Anita did something that she has repeated a number of times since but which, this first time, took me totally by surprise. I literally had my hand on the door handle to leave when she asked me to come back to her. I did of course and she gently bent me face forward over the back of a chair.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Shhhh – I’m enjoying myself.’
The next thing I knew I had my knickers down and my dress up and she was shoving a well lubricated pug up my arse. Then, knickers back in situ and dress restored to its proper place we left the room and joined the others to wait for the bus to take us out.
Anita whispered in my ear. ‘That is just so sexy. Thank you for letting me.’
I looked at her then whispered in her ear, ‘You can do anything you want to me.’
‘Didn’t they teach you at that sink of a school that it is rude to whisper?’ This was, of course, Lilly. I poked my tongue out at her. ‘Class, darling, such class,’ she grinned.
If only she knew!
Next episode - The Wedding
The Hon. Lilly Caterham had asked me out to lunch. Since I was ‘resting’ as we in the acting profession actually never say, it was no problem for me. Since Lilly was massively wealthy it was no problem for her either.
Lilly had thrown a party on the Saturday before we met and I’d ended up in one of her bedrooms with the stunning Indian doctor, Anita Choudhury. Now we were sitting in a rather lovely bistro, drinking a bottle of chablis and waiting for our starters.
Lilly took a pull from her glass. ‘Harry Lomax is a sensation. I have decided to have him cloned!’
‘While you’re about it could you get Anita cloned too?’
‘Never had you down for the easy lay, darling. Always thought you liked a bit of courtship.’
‘Rules were made to be broken.’
She grinned. ‘Judging from the row you made, you didn’t break it, you shattered it.’
‘I’d have thought you were too busy to listen to others and it’s rude to eavesdrop.’
‘True. God, what a stud. My Uncle Bernard had a stallion called Harry. Think there might be a connection? Anyway, tell me about the delicious doctor. Seeing her again?’
‘She said she’d call to invite me out on a date.’
‘She will then. Good sort, is Anita. Daddy was the Ambassador to the Court of St James you know.’
I nodded. ‘She told me.’
‘You had time for talking? Anyway, good luck with that.’
‘How did you get to know her?’
Another pull from her wine glass and a pause while she topped our glasses up. “Remember Horsey Horsefall?’
How could I forget Horsey? She was Lilly’s Deputy Head Girl at school and so named because she had teeth like Uncle Bernard’s Harry and, as Lilly had once said, could eat a carrot through a tennis racket. I nodded.
Her flow was interrupted by the arrival of our starters. Then she continued.
‘Well, Horsey and I have kept in touch. She went up to Oxford and did Politics and Economics then got a job at the Foreign Office. Apparently they like brains more than looks, so Horsey was in luck.’ I laughed. ‘So the FO threw this reception and Horsey asked me along to add a touch of class. You know the sort of thing; meet the Hon this and the Lady that and so on. There was His Excellency, Ambassador Choudhury accompanied by said Anita since dear old Mumsy was laid up with some lurgy or other. She did him proud; schmoozed the locals et cet including me. Told me she was at the BGH and we sort of became chums. I decided I liked her, rather a lot in fact. Great sense of humour and when she told me she was as gay as Henley regatta I thought of you.’
‘So I have Horsey to thank?”
‘Well, both of us really. I decided to have my party and happily you were both available.’ She gave me one of her looks, ‘It seems you were available in more ways than one, Darling.’
My phone was lying on the table and it rang. The caller’s ID was clearly visible: ‘Anita.’
‘Best you answer that.’
I did and received the good news that Anita really did want to invite me on a date and would the following Saturday evening be okay? It would have been okay if I’d had to return from Australia for it but I simply said it would and we agreed a time, 8pm and a place, a wine bar/restaurant near the Roman Baths.
‘You, my little dyke friend, have pulled.’
‘Early days.’
‘Faye, do me a favour.’ I raised an inquisitive eyebrow. ‘Just because the vile Hannah didn’t see you as the long term solution doesn’t mean everyone else is blind too. And, for fuck’s sake, you’re allowed simply to enjoy. Go with the flow. That is the Hon. Lilly’s rather well-informed opinion, anyway. And, since I am fucking high class, you of the lower orders should pay heed.’
Little did Lilly know that that was my precise intention.
‘As it happens,’ she continued, ‘I think I might have some news myself relatively soon.’
I looked at her with my best attempt at a penetrating gaze. ‘News? Of what?’
‘Did you ever meet Horsey’s brother?’
‘Cant say I did.’
‘Well, truth to tell he’s a bit of class. Army, of course, but no dimwit. I’ve been sort of hanging around with him between wars et cet and he’s been back on the market since the little wifey fucked off home to Boooorston (she elongated the first vowel and shoved in the ‘r’ in an apparent attempt at a Bostonian accent). Apparently she didn’t like Perry being away so much. Not sure she’d have given a flying if he’d got his balls blown off but,’ she grinned, ‘I would. They’re gorgeous.’
‘And?’
And what.’
‘The “news” you boil.’
‘Oh, well, I rather think he’s going to ask me to tie the knot. His divorce will be sorted next Wednesday. I know, I know. Bit bloody bourgeois for a Caterham, marriage and all the attendant shit but I’m not getting any younger and he is absolutely bloody gorgeous, so probably my last chance to lash him to my bed.’
‘How come I had no idea you and Perry,’ his name came to me from the distant past, ‘were an item? And what about Harry Lomax?’
‘Well, the tosser’s hardly ever here so you, with your own current state of leg splitting involvement, probably just haven’t see us together. Oh, Harry’s just a diversion while Perry’s off defending the realm.’
‘But, Lilly …….’
‘I like secrets.’ And that, it seemed, was that.
Saturday.
I chose a dress that I’d bought to impress Hannah and never got round to wearing for her, bitch. Nonetheless I still liked it and hoped it would do the trick. It was pale blue linen (blue suits me) and has a scooped neck, quite tight to the waist and flared to my knees. I decided that a little bit of the finest lingerie in my drawer would suit the summer weather and so, with a scrap of silk that passed for knickers, bare legs and blue sandals with decent heels I sallied forth to meet the exotic doctor.
‘Sorry I’m late. God, I seem to have to say that every time I go out.’
‘Twenty minutes is not a cause for apology.’
I had actually been sitting there nursing a glass of wine from the bottle in the ice bucket beside the table with my heart in my mouth but I wasn’t going to say that. I’d stood as she arrived looking gorgeous in a green dress that must have cost a packet, her hair loose and a cream silk and linen mix jacket. Her shoes had almost no heel but she still towered over me as we kissed hello.
‘Bloody patients. I had to stay a bit later than planned because some old bird decided she was going to provide me with a crucial learning point for my students. That is to say, how to get her back from the jaws of death. Thoughtless, I call it. But never mind all that; how are you? You look good’
We talked. I found it easy to. She was amusing, engaging, interesting and interested. I told her about my family; Dad the CEO of an engineering firm, Mum the housewife and would-be poet.
She lifted an eyebrow. ‘Engineering? That’s almost trade. I’m surprised Lilly mixed with you.’
I laughed at her understanding of the English class system and remarked that Lilly was many things but conventional wasn’t one of them. That made her grin.
‘How did they feel about you being…..’
‘Gay?’
‘I was going to say an actress but both would be interesting.’
‘Dad didn’t care, Mum was indifferent. To be honest she lived life in a bubble of herself. That’s partly why they sent me off to school.’ She smiled. ‘As to the acting bit, well, Dad just said, “Good luck with that,” meaning, I think, that the fact I had been in a few school productions and could remember my lines wasn’t the firmest basis for a career decision.’
‘Tough choice.’
‘Oh no, the choice was easy. Getting any work is the hard part.’
‘Are you any good?’
‘Did you not see my Goose?’ I was referring back to the advert that I had starred in and told her about at the party. ‘Or my tea bag?’
‘They passed me by, I fear. Had I known I would have taken more interest.
‘I was nominated for an award for it.’ The eyebrow lifted again. ‘The cast had a party and I was nominated for “Best Beak” but I was pipped by the girl who played the Mother Goose.’
‘Oh, bad luck. Anything in the pipeline.’
‘Odd you should ask. Felciity Caterham, sister to the rapacious Lilly, is my agent. She has asked me if I’d be interested in doing a period drama for the Beeb. Apparently it’s a smallish part, daughter of some noble or other. It’s planned for a next month start and is to be filmed in and around this lovely, Georgian city.’
Anita’s hand covered mine. ‘That’s marvelous and you’ll be local.’
Why did that make my heart leap? We’d been talking all through dinner. I have absolutely no idea what I ate, all my attention was on Anita.
Over coffee I asked her if she’d like a drink at my place which was only five minutes away.
‘Well, Faye, the thought does, I admit, interest me but I have a rule about no sex on a first date.’
‘But I thought…..’
‘Firm rule, I’m afraid and this is most definitely our first date, wouldn’t you say?’ There was a half smile on her lips.
I thought for a moment. ‘I have been invited to a party last Saturday and wondered if you would come with me.’ She looked perplexed. ‘I thought we could make Saturday our first date retrospectively as it were? Then this would be, officially, our second. Doesn’t mean we have to do anything but it would mean your rule could be applied.’
‘But that would mean I broke it on Saturday.’
‘I’ve thought of that. We had taken drink and rules do tend to go out the window when drink has been taken, don’t you think?’
‘Oh, I’d love to join you at the party. What should I have worn?’
‘Perhaps the most beautiful saree I have ever seen?’
‘A distinct possibility. Right, I’ll have seen you there.’
We held hands all the way to my flat. I opened my front door and led her into my sitting room. I had spent an age getting the place tidy in case she came and the low lights were on. She removed her jacket, took a seat and her dress rode up a little to reveal the glorious long thigh. I poured us a couple of brandies and sat facing her.
‘Thanks for the invitation to dinner.’
‘Least I could since you invited me to the party.’
‘Coffee?’
‘Perhaps later?’
She stood up and placed her brandy, untouched, on a side table and took my hand. I stood too and her arms went around me, pulling me to her. I had to stand on tiptoe to let her kiss me properly and I sighed as her tongue entered my mouth, searching inside me. My neck was arched backwards the better to make the contact and my hands slid up her sides. I felt her hands in my hair and on the back of my neck under it and, well, that sort of does it for me. One hand detached itself from my neck and covered my breast and for some reason I couldn’t explain I felt she was taking her time as it rested, flat, between my tits. The kiss went on and on and I didn’t want it to stop. The other hand was exploring my back then and seemed to find what it was searching for. The zip in the middle of the back of the neckline slid easily down and her hand slipped inside and stroked my back.
She broke the kiss then. Leaning back she looked straight into my eyes and the hand that was resting on my chest moved to cover my breast and palmed my nipple that was showing very clear signs of enjoyment. I couldn’t take my eyes off hers.
‘Can I take you to bed?’
I smiled. ‘Second date. I don’t see why not, do you?’
‘Absolutely no reason at all.’
I led the way, our hands joined and when we got into my softly lit bedroom (which I had left that way in case this should happen) she squeezed my hand.
‘Did you expect this?’ She turned me as she asked.
‘Expect? No. Hope for, yes.’
We kissed again then and with a bit of fumbling we managed to get each other’s dress off without breaking the kiss too often. She was wearing a cream bra which she undid because, I think, she couldn’t wait for me to do it and I gasped a little because I hadn’t really seen them so clearly before and they did a lovely little drop and lift that made me a bit giddy. Her knickers were cream too and contrasted beautifully with her brown skin. I fear I wasn’t in the mood for waiting now and I leant down a little and tenderly kissed each gorgeous nipple as my hands roamed around her back. Hers were once more in my hair and I felt the urge to go lower, bending my knees as I licked down her firm tummy, around her navel and, as my knees touched the floor, so my face nuzzled against the cream knickers.
I thought her tightening grip on my hair might be a restraining order but it wasn’t, so I paid the appropriate attention to her, kissing around the edges of the knickers, licking the whisps of hair curling out and kissing the front of the panties over her lips.
I pulled them down and out of the way and let my tongue and mouth roam freely. She made little noises that encouraged me until she sat on the bed, her legs wide apart and my face buried between them. At one point she tried to pull me up but I wasn’t having any of that yet. I remained firmly in contact and felt her lips open to my tongue and I could taste her moisture which I enjoyed for as long as I could before being unable to resist her pulling me up to kiss me again.
We lay beside each other, kissing and stroking and then she pushed my shoulder so I lay back and her hand went between my legs and covered my cunt. The scrap of silk was no match for her strong, surgeon’s fingers and suddenly she was inside me, two fingers stroking deep and purposefully. Her hair covered her face as she slithered down to kiss my nipples and I could feel myself become increasingly excited. She seemed to sense this because she removed her fingers and slowly, very deliberately pulled the knickers off me, moving around the bed until her hair was cascading beautifully over my thighs and she lowered her face to my cunt. She let out a small pleasure sigh as she encountered my flood and suddenly her knees were either side of my face and her pussy was just above my mouth. That didn’t last as I lifted my head just enough to close the gap, my hands on her arse and thighs.
We sucked, licked, probed and caressed until first she, then I orgasmed. It wasn’t quiet but it was simply gorgeous. I know I must have bucked and squirmed because I felt her sort of pin me down until I’d finished.
She manoeuvred to lie beside me again and the kissing was tender, her fingers tracing my face, mine tracing hers. We lay together, enjoying the deep intimacy that follows a mutual climax. After a while I slipped out of bed and went to the sitting room to recover our brandies and we sat, talking, side by side and drinking the warm spirit.
She picked up my knickers.
‘No respectable woman would wear these on a second date,’ she said, grinning.
‘I know but they were all I could find, sorry.’
‘Liar! God but they are lovely.’ Idly, she used them to stroke my pussy and that got me going again and it was not long before I’d rolled to straddle her thigh and press my own between hers. We kissed and rubbed and held each other until we were panting and thrusting at each other until we both came, not simultaneously but close.
We spent the night sleeping occasionally and waking each other up to indulge more.
By the time Sunday announced itself with the clamour of church bells we were exhausted but in the beautiful way that great sex tires you. My heart almost sang when, as I lay across her breasts, my hair over her and her hands on me, she said, ‘I think we need to spend more time together, don’t you?’ I hoped my nod was enough and so it seemed to be because she patted my hair.
Thursday
Lilly rang. ‘Any chance we might have supper?’
‘When?’
‘Tonight, you dunce.’
Anita wasn’t free that evening so I was and I agreed to have supper with Lilly at a restaurant near the theatre. I’d asked if she had any news but she told me to ‘fucking well wait, darling; nosey cow.’
The restaurant mainly survives on pre and post theatre diners so we, dining at 8, were among a select few.
‘Did we spend a little time prone with the good doctor this weekend?’
‘Mind your own business and for fuck’s sake tell me.’
‘Well now before I break the news I want to ask you a favour, you being my longest serving acolyte. Well, two favours in fact.’
‘Then do.’
‘Right, favour number one. Would you be good enough to be my “Best Woman?’
‘Oh my god, he’s done it and you said yes.’
‘I’ve always said you had a quick brain in you. Like lubricated lightning.’
The table almost collapsed as I struggled out of my chair to give her a big hug and kiss.
‘Unhand me, you filthy pervert. Any opportunity to snog me.’ She was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
So we expressed huge joy and I ordered a bottle of bubbles and we ignored the looks from the other customers.
‘You said two favours.’
‘Did I? Oh yes. Now, well, this one might be the tricky one.’ She did that look she does when she wants a real favour. Lilly had once rescued me from Penzance when I had broken an ankle. It was true that she arrived in a bloody Land Rover, probably the least comfortable way to travel four hundred miles with a leg in plaster but since, as she explained, ‘I feel a complete tit driving the Rolls,’ I could hardly complain. Consequently, I had no option but to agree, pretty much no matter what she wanted.
‘As my “Best Woman” you will, naturally be required to make a speech.’
‘Christ, Lilly, couldn’t I just carry you to the register office on my shoulders on a unicycle?’
‘Now, it’s odd you should mention that.’ I assumed she was joking but she continued. ‘When the Hon Peregrine Horsefall, for such is Perry’s real name, poor blister, was up at Oxford and before he joined up he and I had a bit of a fling. He was a complete arse of course but yummy. Anyway, for a dare he rode a unicycle along the precinct wall of his college.’
‘Boys will be boys, I understand.’
‘Yes, well this particular little escapade ended in tears when he forgot there was broken glass on the top of one section of the wall which punctured his tyre and his ego and he fell off the wall and landed atop the Vice Chancellor’s Jaguar. Both he and the Jag suffered significant damage which meant he was nearly rusticated as well as hospitalised. His dear Pop, Bertie, sorted out the rustication probably by paying a substantial lump of cash to the VC. I visited Perry in hospital to caress the fevered brow. Also gave him a blow job when the nurse wasn’t looking which, as I recall, went down rather well. No pun intended. After that he’s been known to all his mates as Perry O’coursefall.’
You had to hear Lilly’s delivery to gain the full impression of this, I was almost creased with laughter.
‘Stop, stop. Yes I’ll give a speech but for goodness’s sake stop or I’ll piss myself.’
‘Knew I’d convince you.’
September the same year
Anita and I were, by this time, an established couple. Lilly called us ‘the long and the short of it’ and this rather caught on amongst our friends.
Horsey had organised a hen weekend for Lilly in Dartmouth, a pretty little coastal town in Devon with a beautiful river flowing through it. We all, twenty-six of us, arrived on the Friday evening in time for a meal which she organised to be delivered to the twelve bedroom villa her family owned there.
The following day we had a clay pigeon shooting morning, followed by a tour of a winery.
‘My view, Horsey,’ said Lilly, ‘the shooting would have been a sight more interesting if we’d done it after the wine tour.’
Horsey Horsefall had grown into an attractive woman. Her teeth were somehow tidier, her nose smaller and her face generally softer.
Lilly again. ‘I reckon about £40 thousand, that little lot. Worth it though, she looks almost human.’
In the evening we went to a performance of The Flying Dutchman which was performed on the back of a truck in a huge garden beside the river. Sounds naff perhaps but it was brilliant. We all glammed up in evening dresses and, need I say, got roundly blotto on yet more chanmpagne.
Anita and I were sharing a room with wonderful views across the estuary and I have to say dressing for the event took a while. This was for two reasons.
The first reason was that as we were sliding, post ablutions, into the lingerie Anita suddenly got a bit amorous. This meant lingerie coming off rather quickly and a frenzied bout of sex. In the weeks leading up to this, Anita and I had spent quite a bit of time getting to know each other rather well in and out of the sack. In the sack, and I put this discovery down to her medical training, Anita had found something about me I had never known. She was a natural experimenter and when, one delicious afternoon, she had the middle finger of her right hand inside me and her thumb rubbing my clit so her two digits sort of made the universal sign for money but with my sensitive parts in between, I had, well, exploded. I mean by that that I had orgasmed rather spectacularly and quickly but, additionally, I had, as she described it, ‘cried her a river.’
This did not mean I had ‘squirted’ but that I’d just produced an inordinate amount of girl-juice.
Anyway, she also found that whilst there was no guarantee of it working every time she reckoned it was worth a try now and again and this time was one of those when it did work.
‘You’re such a messy cow. You’ll have to have another shower.’ She wasn’t wrong but, as I told her, it was her bloody fault.
‘I’m wearing flats,’ she said as I finally got into my heels. ‘Walking round a garden in those will probably mean you end up stuck like a croquet hoop in the lawn. So I left the heels behind and spent the evening holding my dress up off the grass.
‘Christ,’ said Lilly, ‘you look like something out of Gone With The bloody Wind.’
The second reason for our delay was that as we were leaving, Anita did something that she has repeated a number of times since but which, this first time, took me totally by surprise. I literally had my hand on the door handle to leave when she asked me to come back to her. I did of course and she gently bent me face forward over the back of a chair.
‘What’s going on?’
‘Shhhh – I’m enjoying myself.’
The next thing I knew I had my knickers down and my dress up and she was shoving a well lubricated pug up my arse. Then, knickers back in situ and dress restored to its proper place we left the room and joined the others to wait for the bus to take us out.
Anita whispered in my ear. ‘That is just so sexy. Thank you for letting me.’
I looked at her then whispered in her ear, ‘You can do anything you want to me.’
‘Didn’t they teach you at that sink of a school that it is rude to whisper?’ This was, of course, Lilly. I poked my tongue out at her. ‘Class, darling, such class,’ she grinned.
If only she knew!
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