It was a warm night. Usually she kept her dress on for what she planned to do next, in case her mother burst in unannounced. But it seemed safe to assume Mother would not want anything to do with her tonight, and besides, the way Dylan had admired her — and at long last even touched her a bit — today filled her with such naughty confidence that she almost hoped she would be caught.
And hadn’t Dylan agreed to make another trip to the lake tomorrow, weather permitting! This time, she knew, she would prevail upon him to join her in the water. At least.
Before any doubts could catch up with her, Celestine reached back and unclasped her dress. Recalling Dylan’s adoring looks and his shy hands in the heather, she felt utterly on fire as she pulled the dress off and undid her brassiere. Joyfully nude again, she strolled aimlessly around the room, rubbing her newly-freed breasts but not reaching any further down yet, the better to enjoy her stroking once it did happen. After all, hadn’t Dylan gazed ever so longingly at her bush without touching it?
The memory of that had her delightfully wet when she finally lay down and spread her legs. If only Dylan had taken a chance on caressing her, she marvelled at the thought of how her body would have welcomed him. Now, in her imagination, she did welcome him, in her room, in her arms, in her vagina.
“Ohhh, my darling,” she murmured as her fingers did their practiced magic, and she imagined they were Dylan’s body rubbing in a loving rhythm with hers. She rubbed harder and caught herself by surprise. “Ooh!” she squealed out loud, bringing everything to a screeching halt just for a moment. Then she reasoned Mother was surely still downstairs and Troy must have gone home, and she let herself fall deeper into her tryst with Dylan.
The book at the library had said something about a loss of control as sex progressed. Celestine could only guess what that would feel like, and even the book had said the feeling of an orgasm was “indescribable”. But right then she welcomed the mystery as she imagined her body enveloped in sensation and Dylan’s gentle touches and his whispered words of love. She imagined her hands rubbing his chest as she had wanted so much to do at the lake, teasing him into a tizzy of his own until he lost control and came with a cathartic yelp that also brought her over the edge.
Having concluded that she wouldn’t be overheard, Celestine had no qualms about letting out a loud sigh of joy as she came. It was loud enough for Troy to hear in the next room, where he had to admit it sounded more genuine than what he’d heard from the blonde that afternoon. Maybe, he mused, he could learn to live with her hairy snatch if she came that hard.
Then it struck him: she was thinking of him, of course, not knowing he was available and even had a tacit invitation from her mother! Should he go next door?
Troy was already on his feet and pulling his coat back on when he realized the poor thing would want to know how he knew just what she was up to. He did not want to have to tell her he knew what a woman’s orgasm sounded like! Of course, maybe it was all her way of inviting him in? But then, did he want her thinking he would come running like this every time she wanted a bit of fun?
He felt sorry for her, but Troy took his coat off and decided he’d better just go to bed — to his own bed. It wasn’t as though Celestine would have to wait much longer for him, after all.
There was one establishment in Candover that was lower still than Fliss’ Place. The crude tavern on the far end of town was so low it didn’t even have a name; this made it easier for the constable to pretend it wasn’t there anyway. Colloquially it was known as “the Aldrich Gang place” because Jimmy Aldrich and his crew of street urchins could be found there most nights.
Jimmy Aldrich never missed a chance to remind anyone who would listen that his surname meant “wise old ruler”, and all could see he fancied himself as such among his gang. All could also see he was anything save wise or a leader, or old for that matter, though the results of innumerable fistfights did give him the appearance of being much older than his thirty or so years. Long ago he’d been a terror on the rugby field and a contender to earn an athletic scholarship to university and lift his family out of the slums of Candover. One too many altercations with a referee had cost him any chance of that, but had earned him the undying admiration of his fellow troublemakers.
One of those fellow troublemakers was none other than Ben, whom Troy had met at Fliss’ Place that afternoon. He and Jimmy and a few others had joined the Navy after school, but whereas Ben had learned to play the sailor’s game well enough to thrive there, Jimmy had proven impervious to all efforts to instill any respect for authority. Scarcely a year into his service, a wrong word from a fellow sailor at Portia’s restaurant had triggered a fistfight that in turn led to a dishonourable discharge. With no other prospects remaining, Jimmy and his fellow washouts had taken to spending their days on the docks looking for odd jobs, and their nights at the dive that now unofficially had his name. When a boat or a horse went missing or someone got knocked down in the high street, the Aldrich Gang place was a dependable source for the police to find suspects.
That very evening found Jimmy sitting at the bar, sipping his first beer of the night at just about the time Troy and Celestine were going to their separate beds. Naturally he knew nothing of what was going on in Portia’s house. Though he harboured a seething resentment of her for causing his ouster from the Navy, and he had designs on some sort of revenge, he knew well enough to steer clear of her part of town until he was ready to strike. But that was not on his mind that evening, for he had enjoyed an unusually good day of cleaning and painting boats on the docks and he was looking forward to seeing what sort of girls would turn up tonight.
When the door opened, he hoped to see what would be on tap tonight besides the beer. What he saw instead disappointed him at first — until he realized just who the sailor in the doorway was.
“Ben!” Jimmy jumped up from his stool.
“How’d I know you’d be here!” Ben said, and they met in a handshake that was as close as Jimmy Aldrich would ever allow any other man to him.
“Didn’t even know you were in town,” Jimmy said. “Can I buy you a beer?”
“Sure,” Ben said. “But I think you’ll want to buy me more than that when you hear the news I’ve got.”
“You finally beat that pirate ship we used to talk about, did you?” Jimmy laughed, remembering the boyhood daydreaming of adventures they were so sure awaited.
“Better,” Ben said. “Listen, I know it’s been a while and I hate to bring up ancient history, but have you still got it in for that Portia lady?”
“That bitch?” Jimmy slammed his beer mug down on the filthy bar. “You bet your ass I still want a piece of her. No offense, you’re an old friend of mine, but I mean, every time some goody goody sailor comes through town, all I can think of is, that could’ve been me, you know? Instead here I am washing boats and fixing fishnets for a living. All ’cause that bitch couldn’t mind her own business.”