Faultless

An adult stories – Faultless by Volunteer_,Volunteer_ Faultless

My sincere thanks to Content_in_the_mind and Puchez for helping me to shape and edit some of this story.

I’ve tried to put a story together that looks at how people are perceived vs the reality, the walls they put up and eventually, how a connection can change all of that. Hopefully I’ve done a good job and you enjoy it. These characters are flawed, especially the main one, so remember that as you read this.

V

***

“Hello?” The voice was suspicious on the other side of the line. “Who’s calling?” He only answered because calls from a strange number were a common part of his job.

I paused a moment, grinning. “Ike.”

He paused too, initially confused and then his brain caught up. “Fuck off, on a UK number? Are you back?”

“Missed you too Dave,” I laughed, enjoying his shock.

Dave was one of my childhood friends and the first person I’d call if I was in trouble. When I was in the same country at least.

“Holy crap, what’s happened?”

“Nothing,” I said, expecting the question and had the statement already prepared. “Just felt ready to come back, you know?”

“So, if nothing’s happened, I’m guessing you’re here for the funeral?” Dave asked.

My blood ran cold. I took a deep, steadying breath, training kicked in. “Funeral?” My confusion was clear.

“Ah shit, you haven’t seen then?” Dave’s reply was awkward, uncomfortable.

“Who?” I asked simply.

Dave took a beat. It’s not easy announcing someone else’s bad news a minute into a call with someone you’d barely spoken to in the last couple of years, and I appreciated that enough to hold my impatience back.

“Lily’s Gran.”

“Catherine?” I said sharply in response.

Age-wise, she was probably a likely candidate, but she had such vitality that she wasn’t in the top tier of suspects. My own gran was more likely, truth be told.

“Yeah,” Dave replied gently. “I saw it on Lily’s Facebook, she was thanking people for their commiserations and posted details of the funeral.”

That would make sense, Catherine was extremely popular. She was welcoming, friendly, kind and everything else that summarised a ‘Good Gran’. Lily had learned from Catherine at a young age – she could speak to anyone at any time and make them feel welcome. In a way, Catherine was the reason Lily and I met. Were it not for her, Lily would never have had the desire to speak to a stranger who was covered in acne and still hadn’t made a proper friend a week into university. But she had and over time we’d connected in a way her other friends couldn’t understand, once I started being invited out with them over the next couple of years. We bonded over a shared love of technology and all things geeky, she loved my dry humour and I loved that I was ‘in’ with a popular group of friends.

Over time, those friends started to become jealous of the way Lily changed when she was with me. They’d question my motives, but I just never saw her like that. We came from different worlds, particularly socially, but when we hung out, it was as though we were well-trained AI (yep, I said it and I’m sticking with it) – finding the same things funny, the same stories interesting and the same news exciting.

“Shit,” I said eventually, pulled back into the present. “Can you send me the details? I don’t have any social media.”

“Course” Dave replied, no doubt grateful he hadn’t made a screw-up.

We spoke about the last couple of years, and I was deliberately evasive about what I’d been up to. Spurred on by this, Dave seemed all too happy to share detail about his own life, as though doing so would fill my gaps. I let him talk through his blossoming career in Law (the main reason he’d be my first call), while I thought of Lily. I walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed a bottle opener, pressing the phone to my ear with my shoulder so I could use my hand to crack open a beer. The whole living space was empty, just me, a few flat-pack boxes and the beer.

“Where are you now?” Dave eventually asked.

“London, the company helped with a place,” I answered, immediately regretting it.

Dave was straight on it. I rarely spoke about work so this was an ‘in’ he wouldn’t miss.

“Yeah?” He said excitedly. “Why’s that?”

I inwardly sighed and went with the truth. “Because I quit, and I got some money as part of the agreement.”

“The agreement? The fuck did you see over there?”

I chuckled. “You know it’s not like that, Dave, damn. I wasn’t a contractor, I did a tour, then I did an Engineering degree online and I stayed out there. I made the oil company a bit of money and wanted out, so they thanked me for it.”

Dave wasn’t the only one that fell into a false belief about my job in the Middle East. My family were the same, as were my scattering of other acquaintances. Being off-grid for a couple of weeks at a time sure sounded fishy but it was just the nature of my job. That I was surrounded by phone signal in Dubai, more often than not, was irrelevant.

In truth, I wanted to be a soldier because I was hoping to contribute more with my life, beyond the stagnancy it had fallen into. But I was out as soon as I could, reality doing away with my naïve aspirations. Being a contractor of any kind and staying in that environment would have been a nightmare. The Tour could have been a lot worse and once or twice, it almost was. So, I got out when I did but didn’t have the desire to go back home at the time, so I didn’t.

I turned the conversation back to Dave eventually, which I’d long learned to be the most appropriate way of conversing with him. He was a good lawyer who knew how to get to the bottom of things but take him out of that headspace and he’d talk at you for days.

One of the things I was very good at, was understanding people. If I had one skill, it was that. I noticed the subtleties of tone; the subtleties of behaviour and it allowed me to better interact with people. It worked better with some people than others – and for some, for those I connected with, I didn’t really need that skill at all.

“So, when are we gonna double date?” Dave asked eventually, pulling me from my stupor.

I rolled my eyes. “Are you both sick of me 3rd wheeling after all this time off?”

I eventually made plans with him & Richard for the following week and dialled off. That was the easy call Mike, I thought to myself. I had to call my family next. Should have bought more beers, idiot.

***

I spent the next few days settling in, seeing my family and sorting out my sparse apartment. Mothers, as they are inclined to do when sons have been away, are impossible to quiet for the first hour or so. First the screams of joy, then the constant questions and then the silence where they’re just happy to see you. My mum was a single parent with only me and my sister for company. The sudden doubling of her dependants brought out that predictable response. I had been keeping in touch but being back was different.

“Have you reconnected with everyone?” My Mum asked over dessert, the first Wednesday I was there.

I took it to mean, have you avoided anyone?

“Almost,” I said, looking over at her. “I’m assuming you heard about Catherine?”

My Mum nodded over to my sister, “Megan saw it on Facebook; it was such sad news. Are you going to go on Friday?”

I nodded back. “Yeah, I haven’t got a black suit, so it’ll be some last-minute shopping tomorrow,” I admitted.

“Oh, I’ll come if you can wait until I finish work?” Megan said at once. I happily agreed, it would be nice to spend time with my baby sister.

I spent the following afternoon at the care home, visiting my own gran, whose Alzheimer’s had progressed significantly. It was a draining and frankly, horrible couple of hours, getting used to it. I’d video called her via Megan or my Mum a fair bit over the last 18 months she’d been there but not recently enough and not with the attention nor thought that I should have. Catherine’s death made me painfully aware of that.

When I left, she was snoozing, and I introduced myself to one of the staff members. She brought me up to speed on medication, answered some tough questions on how long she might have (I was pretty good at pinning people down to answers too) and who had been visiting her.

“She gets a good few visitors, more than some,” Patricia said, with a slight hint of a Caribbean accent. “She has your Mum, your sister, her brother’s been down once or twice these last few months and this girl comes in every so often, pretty thing, all the old boys ‘be talking about her for days after.”

“Lily?” I said at once, immeasurably surprised.

Our grans had been close at one point before I left, and a combination of physical distance and my gran’s declining health kept them from seeing more of each other.

Patricia stared at me blankly. “I’ve got no idea, the reception does all the checking, I just do the care.”

She waited around awkwardly, having answered my questions. I thanked her warmly and left, deep in thought.

The unforeseen downside to waiting until the evening before the funeral to buy a suit was that I was stuck with whatever was in stock in the shops at the time. In my case, between my muscly thighs and bulky biceps, a good size was hard to come by. I spent far more time looking in mirrors across those couple of hours than I had in the last year. My tan would fade but I liked my stubble and generally, how much healthier my face looked without the stark acne scars. In the end, reasoned to decision by Megan, I purchased trousers that were a little too loose and a blazer that was a little too tight and would be unlikely to button well over my chest.

We had dinner together and caught up with life, in particular hers. My baby sister was sure growing up, with a great job in recruitment and a serious relationship. It was sweet to feel how excited she was to be hanging out with her big brother. Her nervousness and over-assurance about telling me of her new boyfriend was good fun and I enjoyed the incessant teasing – you’d never have guessed she was only 3 years younger than me at 26. But that had always been the nature of our relationship, I filled part of a hole she’d lost by not having her dad around. I gave her a hard time about Mr Marriage, as I was now calling Mathew, until she started to become worried that I was sceptical of him and I spent far longer than I should have, assuring her that he seemed great.

I waited until we got to dessert (a coffee and cake for me, a brownie for Megan), until I brought up what had been troubling me.

“Why didn’t you tell me Nanna had got so bad?” I asked gently. Despite my tone, I saw Megan flinch. “It’s okay, you can be honest,” I added.

Megan focused her eyes on what was left of the brownie and hammered it with the edge of the spoon, cutting a chunk away. “You weren’t around,” she said simply.

I was stung but not altogether surprised by the bluntness of her reply. “But I was only a phone call or videocall away Megs, it’s not fair to say I wasn’t around.”

Meg looked at me this time and it was with a fierceness that showed me she had grown up in my absence. I recognised some of myself in her, especially in our shared nose and eyes. She hated her nose, it was the one thing she always complained about. But her eyes were warm, and I hoped mine were still that warm. She’d grown up into a pretty and accomplished woman, which was no surprise given her personality, but this was a side I hadn’t experienced before, even when I had said I was going to leave all those years ago and expected to see it then.

“How were you a phone call away when there were weeks when we couldn’t get ahold of you? I’m not complaining Mike, I’m just telling you as it is. It was hardly the right environment to give you that kind of update but for what it’s worth, Mum & I were getting to that point,” she finished strongly and then it was like a balloon had its air removed and she fell back into more of a neutral, almost guilty expression at the brief rant.

I shared her guilt. “I am sorry Megs, I am. Are you mad at me?”

“No,” she said firmly, and there was that fierceness again in her brown eyes. “I knew life wasn’t heading the way you wanted it to go, I knew how much you hated your life, and I was relieved you wanted to do something about it, even if it was drastic. So, no, I wasn’t mad then and I’m not now, although I’m really glad you’re back.”

I took my glass of white and tapped the red one in her hand, touched that she understood the spiral I was in.

***

I don’t know how I felt, the next morning. It was good to be back and reconnecting with people as well as to be making plans for my own future, even if they were quite loose, but the funeral was a cloud hanging over me. It wasn’t just the funeral itself which would be a difficult affair, it was also because I’d see Lily too and I didn’t know where we were, given what happened in the past. Most of all, it was because I now knew I’d be in her situation soon enough with my own gran and I was scared for what that was going to look like, on that day.

I hadn’t initially intended to keep my appearance at the funeral a surprise from Lily but as the hours went on, I decided it was the best approach. There were many reasons for doing so – some I preferred not to dwell on – but chief among them was my wish that her days leading up to the funeral were not distracted by my presence.

I knew the funeral procession was setting off from Catherine’s house and while it was an area I knew like the back of my hand over the years, I decided against going there, opting instead to go directly to the Church.

It was a grand, majestic structure made of old stone and stained-glass windows, imposing itself on the nearby office blocks and terraced houses that had popped up over the previous decades. Walking in, I picked a row towards the back of the hall, close enough to the aisle but not quite on the edge. The turn-out was huge and almost enough to fill every row. By the time the procession arrived, and people took their seats, I had been sitting alone for a while. Rows filled somewhat behind me, but I sat alone. Those that might have recognised me never saw me as they were seated right at the front.

Then it was time to walk the coffin in. Catherine’s family led the procession – mostly family members I didn’t know, all except Lily, who held the coffin at the rear and happened to catch my eye as I briefly cast my eyes up beyond my bowed head.

Her reaction was one of shock, no doubt enhanced by the emotion of the moment, and I saw some colour fill her tanned cheeks, which were pale only moments ago. Our shared look was brief, lengthened only by a small nod from me that I intended to be encouraging but one she was unable to return despite trying.

My mind glazed over the prayers and the speeches. I wasn’t and never have been the type for that. Perhaps I was biased, but Lily’s speech was beautiful and poignant, as I knew it would be for someone that spoke as eloquently as her. Her voice travelled well to the back of the hall until it was quietened by her own tears and only the occasional snippet travelled far enough. At one point I heard ‘with the angels’, but that was mostly all. I wasn’t religious and to be frank, I found the ceremonial aspects of funerals outdated and unnecessarily mournful. People die, let’s laugh at what they did when they lived, not cry in relief that they’re no longer suffering. As you might imagine, I kept that thought to myself.

I kept my place at the back of the crowd during the burial nearby and skirted the edges while people wept and spoke in groups. A few people I knew saw me, but they didn’t recognise me, and I reflected on how unlikely it was that Lily had. I’d bulked up, added a layer of tan, had sun-bleached brown hair and generally carried myself differently. I attributed much of that to the healing of my acne; the leftover scars hidden by facial hair.

Outside, as people started to move to cars and head to drinks at Catherine’s local pub, I found myself shepherded in the direction of the grieving family as other mourners gave their commiserations. I made my way towards Lily who was shaking hands and thanking people for coming. There was a quiet strength to her even though I knew that inside, she’d have to be feeling broken. Her Mum stood beside her, some inches shorter, not helped by Lily’s, slim frame seemingly towering above her.

I got to Sharon first. The last few years had aged her considerably. The lines on her face were now pronounced and her light brunette hair had strands of grey in it as though she was losing the fight to keep it dyed. She’d pinned her hair up into a bun and was wearing a lot of makeup but nevertheless, her age was clear to see.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said genuinely.

Sharon nodded, thanked me politely and then moved me on, keen to get this impromptu queue of mourners over with.

I moved to Lily and studied her as close family spoke to her and praised the speech she gave. She was naturally tanned, part-Italian from her dad’s side she’d said once, complimented with beautiful features. Her dark hair flowed straight and almost down to her elbows which were crossed to fight off a chill that her jacket and the warm spring air couldn’t dampen. I recognised the signs of her adrenaline crash and made a note to keep our exchange brief.

Her cousins moved on and then she looked around. Her eyelashes were prominent in a way that made her green eyes really pop. The joke had been for years that any man who looked into them would fall in love with her and for that to be true, I guess I must not have truly looked in them until a few months before I left.

I still hated that the switch had flicked all those years ago. Often, I thought about it and cursed my brain chemistry for not waiting just another couple of months when I’d be gone. We might have stayed in touch; I might have had letters with her undeniable humour and geeky anecdotes to enjoy in my dark moments. Instead, I had alcohol and sex, where I could get it. I knew I was still in love for a long time after I left, right until I stopped wishing for the letters and pined for the alcohol instead.

For some unexplainable reason (therapy would link it, I’m sure), after we graduated and around the same time I had come to realise my life was drifting in a meaningless direction, I started to see how beautiful Lily was. It was gradual, often just an admiring glance that I’d immediately curse myself over. But over a matter of weeks, my attraction to her deepened even as I signed the papers and joined the Army. There were many reasons, I contemplated in hindsight. Our friendship was deep and solid, a prerequisite I’d always had when committing to a relationship back then. More than that, she felt like my anchor to what could and should have been a very stable life. I could almost picture the marriage and kids, the stable job. My life was lacking purpose and part of me felt she was the one that could give me that. It was a stupid, immature thought to give anyone that responsibility but myself. I was better off leaving and growing, though that was only something I came to terms with eventually.

Before I left, we went for drinks, just her and I. She still didn’t understand it but had given up on convincing me to stay. She’d dressed up for me, or at least I told myself she had. Her being at work earlier that day didn’t cross my mind. It felt like a date, or at least I told myself it did. I walked her home, and we stopped on the walk so she could show me something on her phone.

When she looked up, I kissed her, just like that. For a couple of glorious seconds, she returned the kiss and then she pulled back, looking up at me sadly.

“Michael, this isn’t what I want, I’m sorry,” she said gently.

“Don’t be sorry,” I said at once, meaning it. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t be sorry,” I said quickly, horror enveloping me. What had I just done?

We walked the short distance back to her family house in silence. When we got there, she smiled and then pulled me into a hug.

“Don’t go getting any ideas and squeezing my bum,” she quipped in a whisper close to my ear.

“Damn,” I said, trying to be playful too but not meaning it. “But I’m so sorry. You’re seeing someone, that was such a stupid thing to do.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said again, a small reassuring smile on her lips. “I won’t tell him cause you’d probably kick his arse anyway.”

“Well, you do pick some jerks,” I offered. Her smile grew and she clubbed my arm, her eyes shining brightly.

_

Looking at those eyes now, I could tell things had changed for me. I was relieved, to tell you the truth. Yes, I still found her attractive in a way I hadn’t until that switch had flicked but that was all it was now. No deep longing, no stupid feelings. Just an appreciation for how good looking my ex-best friend was. That in itself was still pretty bad but not as bad as I was worried it might have been.

Lily stood tall despite her obvious fatigue, her posture straight and perfect. Her long body seemed to be thinner than I remembered. She was always fit and lean, I could tell that was still the case. Her attractive face was enhanced only by the slightest bit of makeup, suitably dark for the occasion. With her natural tan, high cheekbones and dark hair, she was stunningly good looking. Her outgoing and friendly nature, enhanced by learning from Catherine and the way she treated people on a daily basis, only aided her appeal.

Lily turned to me as I moved within reaching distance. We hugged, my arms wrapping around her more bulkily than they once did. It felt awkward, given our last interaction and I always knew it would.

“Thank you for coming,” she said into my shoulder. “How did you know?”

“Dave saw it on Facebook and told me,” I said by way of explanation.

She pulled away at that point and looked at me in suspicion. “So, he gets to call you and the rest of us don’t?”

Just then, Sharon, who had seemingly been paying attention to our conversation, let out a gasp of surprise that stopped my reply.

“Oh my God, Mike?” she said loudly.

I smiled over at her, separating from Lily and leaning across. The older man who had been speaking to Sharon, stepped back slightly. I wasn’t huge by any means – 5’11 and now pretty well-built but I was intimidating enough without meaning to be. Sharon hugged me this time. She moved me on, promising to speak to me later. I had just enough time to agree and then Lily was pulling me aside.

“You’re coming to the Wake, right?”

“Absolutely, I’ll get a taxi over.”

She shook her head. “No way, I’ll get you in a car, just give me a minute.”

“Honestly, it’s fine,” and then I conceded under her look, “okay, fine.” I was stubborn but not stupid – I couldn’t upset her on the day of her grandmother’s funeral.

Lily turned back to the crowd but before she could get away, I took hold of her arm gently, feeling the smooth fabric of her black dress. She spun back obligingly with a small smile.

“I’m so sorry for your loss Lil,” I whispered.

Her smile held but I saw her eyes start to water and she turned away without response. My reappearance had clearly thrown her, adding yet more emotion to the day.

I found myself walking towards a car with one of Sharon’s younger cousins. It was a family of four and I saw that the daughter, a gorgeous blonde who was probably in her early 20’s would be drawing the short straw and sitting in the middle seat. I could think of worse people to share a car with to be fair. In my years working for an oil company, I can assure you, I definitely had shared a car with worse!

“I’m John and this is Jane,” came the portly and cheerful man’s intro. I could see his flat-cap was hiding a balding head. “Yes, our parents knew we’d eventually meet when they named us,” he quipped rather lamely.

I laughed obligingly as Jane reached over to shake my hand, unable to hide a roll of her eyes behind her strawberry blonde hair. It was clear that joke wasn’t a new one.

“This is Chris and Chloe,” Jane added.

I turned towards them, trying to hide my smirk. “Don’t even,” warned Chloe, a playful smile on her lips.

Chris was a couple of years older than Chloe, ragged and skinny, with a suit that hung loose on him. I wasn’t about to call him out on suit sizing given the state of mine. We spoke to each other as we headed into the car and Chloe, sighing deeply, offered to sit in the middle before she was made to by our taller frames.

“Least you can do for me not taking the piss,” I said teasingly, and she laughed.

Chris took great interest in finding out who I was, and the rest of the car listened intently to how I knew Lily before heading off to join the army.

“I’m surprised we’ve never met,” John noted afterwards, as we moved within a few streets from our destination.

“We probably did, at one of Catherine’s birthday parties, or else maybe one of yours, I was at enough of them!”

“I don’t remember ya, if you were,” John replied in a suspicious voice that made me think I had better elaborate.

“I was a lot different back then, you’d probably recognise me from a picture. I was skinnier and scruffier… and spottier,” I added with a small grin.

“So, you’d have been in the middle seat back then?” Chloe quipped, scowling at me.

I held her stare with a mock-threatening expression until she looked down, blushing behind her freckles and then determinedly looked ahead, playing with her slightly curly hair in awkwardness.

“Probably,” I relented, and she slapped the side of my thigh in return.

I decided there and then that I’d better watch myself, especially around her family. It had been a while since I’d been around anyone that pretty and I was still getting used to the fact that pretty women might show an interest in me.

“Admittedly, you would have been what, 15, eight years ago when I graduated?” I asked.

“Spot on and now I’m 23,” Chloe replied, and then she held my eyes tellingly, until I looked away to take the tension out of the conversation.

We got out shortly afterwards and made our way into the main part of the hall. I thanked the family for the lift and made my way to the bar. I half-expected Chloe to follow me and I spent the first part of my beer with my thoughts on her. She was a good 6 years younger than me which was quite jarring, but there was certainly an attraction that didn’t feel one-sided – the first spark I’d felt since my return and arguably, since I started working in the Middle East.

She didn’t come over, thankfully. Her family found a table on the other side of the room, closer to the buffet. I looked for familiar faces and found the same ones I saw in the Church. They were all friends or family that I’d met at various parties or gatherings over the years. I seemed to be the only one of our university friends in attendance. I saw a karaoke bar in the corner and knew that would have been one of Catherine’s wishes – she’d have wanted everyone to have a good time.

Lily and the family joined shortly after. She looked unsteady on her feet, and I had a feeling she might have had a bad spell on the journey so I made my way over and thrust a can of lemonade in her hand when she broke from a group of people.

“Thanks,” she whispered without looking, cracking it open and taking a grateful gulp.

“I’ll catch you later,” I said politely, getting out of the way.

Lily looked around at my voice and called out after me, “Oh, thank you Mike!”

It was over an hour later that I did finally manage to catch her. Or more accurately, she found me. I’d been sitting alone when she joined me, the parallels to our first meeting were quite clear. I was on my 3rd pint (which was pacing it with my army-formed tolerance) and was strongly craving a smoke, which I’d decided to have once I’d finished the pint. It was one of those days. As happy as I was for some time with Lily, I was mournful over the temporary delay of nicotine.

“Hey,” I said, when it became clear she was not going to start the conversation and was quite content to sit there with her vodka and lemonade, finally getting some peace. “Still avoiding coke?” I asked, pointing to her glass.

“Stains the teeth,” she said with a false grin intended to show them off. They were great.

“You know,” I started, staring off into the distance. “When I was in a field hospital being checked after an IED went off, I overheard this soldier talking to his doctor. He’d had one of his legs blown off, but it had been long enough ago that he was processing it okay. It hurt, but he was getting there. I didn’t hear exactly what his doctor asked but he said, ‘if one more person asks me if I’m okay, I’m going to fucking scream.’ I’d imagine you feel about the same?” I asked Lily, turning back towards her.

She was looking at me aghast. “I can’t believe how casually you talked about that,” she groaned.

“I just figure: you and he aren’t that different right now. You’ve lost something very dear to you and for some reason, it feels inappropriate to scream.”

Lily smiled weakly. “If I screamed, I’d lose all of the perfect-woman credibility I’ve built up in life.”

I grinned; Lily used to hate being seen that way. Perhaps she’d got used to it.

“Come on,” she added, rising. “Let me introduce you to my work friends and they can babysit you for me.”

“But I wanted a smoke,” I complained.

“You smoke?!” Lily said at once, spinning me around so that we stopped on the edge of the dance floor while Frank Sinatra’s ‘My Way’ played.

“Getting shot at and not getting hit gets boring, you realise smoking gets you faster in the end. But it’s okay Lils, I’m only a social smoker.”

She scowled and almost dragged me towards the table of women I instantly knew were her work friends. Well-dressed, well-groomed, gorgeous. It added up. “Amy, Olivia, Char, this is Michael, who’s been my best friend since University and who you might not have heard me mention before as he’s been away.”

Lily made the introductions but wasn’t as subtle with her pointedly narrow-eyes as she thought she was. Certainly, Olivia did her no favours once Lily walked off having pointed me to one of the chairs closest to Char, a flame-haired, freckled woman approaching her late 30’s.

“So, what was it like in the army?” Olivia had said at once.

Amy clocked the mistake and I grinned. “Pretty sure her eyes were telling you to say she’d never mentioned me before?”

“She only does after a margarita or two,” Olivia assured me quickly.

Amy jokingly took the drink away from Olivia, who clasped her hand over her mouth.

I took a beat because my next question was going to be crucial in determining what was said by Lily, when it was said and how it was said. I felt the tiny stirrings of hope in my stomach, but I pushed it down, reminding myself it was far more likely that Lily recounted me during a discussion about ‘most awkward moments’ than it was about ‘ones that got away’.

I decided, purely based on my own conflicting reaction, that I didn’t want to know what Lily said of me. Instead, I said, “I’m dying for a smoke, would anyone like to join me?”

Olivia looked tempted and I got the impression that she too was a social smoker but her friends on either side of her said no, and I left, promising to return shortly. I wondered if I’d made the right decision, not following up with Olivia and decided I had. Lily didn’t want me to know, and I wanted to respect her boundary, given I hadn’t before.

I found the smoking area, a small garden that seemed to have once been where the bins were stored until it became socially frowned-upon to smoke at a private function. It was just me and one of Catherine’s elderly neighbours outside. I struck up a general conversation in a way smokers do and then she got up with strength that disputed her weak frame and went back inside. I was finally alone with my thoughts.

“Bum me one,” I heard from the doorway. Chloe was grinning and I suspected it was the crass innuendo that had got her laughing. I pulled the pack out and she took one. I flicked the silver lighter open and lit it for her. “That’s a nice lighter, where’d you get it?”

“An Aghan farmer gave it to me as thanks for returning his sheep,” I casually lied. I didn’t get the impression Chloe could handle the actual story. Her nod without follow-up confirmed as much.

“I wasn’t allowed to talk to you in there,” she said, nodding back towards the hall.

I smiled, “I assumed that. Can’t be detracting attention away from the sadness of the day.”

Chloe grinned as she watched me stub out my cigarette and light another, so she knew I was keen for the conversation to carry on.

“They said I could add you on Facebook later, if I was interested.”

I took a long drag from my smoke. “That’s very modern of them,” I noted.

Chloe flicked her ash haphazardly and I noticed from it that she wasn’t much of a smoker. Hell of a way to talk to me. “They think you must be alright if you’re Lily’s friend and served in the army, so they’re okay with it.”

I snorted, “Glad we have their permission. Do I get a say?”

Chloe blushed, here was a girl who assumed her looks would be enough for me to say yes. She realised she didn’t know much about me, and I watched her recalculate. “Well, your say can be made when you get my friend request and decide to accept it or not.”

I sighed, stubbing out the rest of my cigarette. “I don’t have Facebook, not very modern of me.”

“Okay, your number then,” she suggested, frustration starting to come through as she felt the conversation slipping. I was enjoying putting her cockiness back in line, truth be told, as I weighed up the repercussions of giving it to her.

“Why do you want it?” I said at last, sizing her up. I was a few inches taller than her, even in her heels. I was acutely aware that her breasts were dominating her frame, even in her modest dress.

“Because guys my age are boring and I want a real man,” she said at once, as though she’d said it many times before.

I chuckled. “That’s a shit line and this rehearsed flirting isn’t something I’m finding conducive to a future date, to tell you the truth.”

I walked off, disappointed in her and moreso, myself, for seeing her differently. The spark I felt in the car seemed to have dissipated behind what was, no doubt, a very successful set of lines.

“Okay fine,” she announced to my retreating back. “I’m into older men, I find you very attractive and the edge you have to you makes me think you’ll be anything but boring, which is what I need. Happy?”

I turned back to her, looking her dead in the eyes. “Two things: I think this is fairly obvious now but don’t pull lines on me again. I’m sure they work plenty, but they won’t work here. I’ve heard enough of those lines in Dubai.” I paused and Chloe’s eyebrows were raised. “I want to get to know the real you, not the one that says what she needs to say in order to get what she wants.”

“Okay,” Chloe replied, face flushed. “Fair. What’s the other thing?”

“I’m not going to do something casual or one-off with Lily’s cousin, so think that over before you message me.”

I walked over and put my number in her phone. Then I kissed her cheek. “I hope to speak to you soon,” acting cooler than I felt.

I walked back in and yet again, wondered if I’d made the right decision. My hands were shaking from the adrenaline of being that demanding with someone so beautiful. It was new for me, I’d never been ‘that guy’ who could go up to a pretty woman and talk to her. There was something about Chloe that I was drawn to in a way that I wasn’t to Lily. I couldn’t place it but in any case, I had no chance with Lily and I wasn’t going to get my head back into a mess speculating otherwise.

I made my way back to the table I was sitting on and found it abandoned, all three of Lily’s work friends now on the dance floor. A dance floor after a funeral, maybe the times were changing?

“Hi Michael,” sounded a voice to my right a few minutes later and Sharon joined me for the promised catch-up.

I was finding the constant interruptions overwhelming. I needed periods of silence in order to cope with loud noise and people. The social side of me was starting to run on fumes. Regardless, I smiled warmly and then rearranged my features to provide the appropriate words of sorrow. Sharon waved it off, tired too.

“She’ll be glad you’re back,” Sharon started, looking around for Lily and not finding her. “Though it is a surprise.”

“I’m glad to be back,” I replied, meaning it, despite my current mental battery wishing for a nice, lonely desert.

“What will you be doing now you’re here?” Sharon asked, looking towards the bottom of her drink, weighing up whether she could finish it in one or two.

I smiled as I read her thoughts, I’d been there many times. “I’m going to look for an engineering job and hopefully start putting down roots.”

Sharon appeared pleased for me, which I really appreciated, especially in the circumstance. Before we could go any further, she nodded towards the entrance to the hall where Lily was re-emerging. Almost by beacon, she saw us together and made her way over purposefully. Sharon had drained her glass without my noticing and stood up.

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” she smiled at me for a spell which I rather awkwardly returned and then left for the bar, promising to return with drinks for Lily and me.

“What were you talking about?” Lily asked me, before she’d even sat down. I detected a hint of nervousness that had started to come out as the drinks piled up.

“Just me staying here long-term,” I replied truthfully.

“You are then?” There was a very hopeful look on her face, and it told me she was keen to reconnect.

Before I could reply, an older man walked over with our drinks and pointed in Sharon’s direction who raised a hand in greeting. I mouthed a ‘thank you’ and took a large gulp of amber. Whether it was Lily’s presence or the cold beer, I felt less overwhelmed.

“I am,” when I put the glass down and chuckled at Lily’s slightly horrified face as she saw how much of the glass now stood empty. She sucked her vodka and lemonade through a straw but didn’t make comment. I filled the silence. “Why are you so nervous whenever I speak to someone you know?” I asked evenly.

Lily looked stunned at my bluntness and stuttered her way through a response. “I’m.. not, just, you know, don’t… well, want you to be overwhelmed.”

Her face was flushed, and I dropped it. I knew what it was – she was worried they’d bring up our last time together, before she could warn them not to.

I took a breath and brought up something that I knew was going to make me emotional. “Thank you for going to see my gran, you didn’t need to.”

Her cheeks kept the colour on her face. “How did you know?”

“The carer was talking about a beautiful woman visiting her and I put two & two together,” I quipped. Then my brain caught up with my mouth and I realised what I’d said. My cheeks now mirrored Lily’s. Stumbling quickly, I added, “anyway, thank you. I really appreciate it Lils, I don’t know how I can repay you.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied quickly, clearly keen to move on. “You being here is enough.”

God this is awkward. I craved to reach out and squeeze her hand or else pat her back – just in a friendly way – but the awkward exchange was too fresh so instead I asked, “Where’s all our Uni friends?”

Lily shrugged, “I don’t speak to anyone anymore. Everyone kind of fell away.”

“Oh,” I replied, now distracted enough by this new information, to ignore my earlier slip. “Why?”

Another shrug. I took more from the second one than I did the first. Lily had instigated it, in some way, I was nearly sure of it.

“I’m glad you’re here though, Mike,” she added warmly, and I knew she meant it. I smiled in equal warmth.

We fell into a comfortable silence, and I used it to arrange my thoughts and recognise how much energy I’d spent on speculating on things across the day. It wasn’t a good idea and would only feed into anxiety that I normally kept in check. As quick as I came to that conclusion, I knew it was time to leave. I was becoming overwhelmed – with information, with speculation and with alcohol.

I stood up abruptly, making Lily jump. “Are you okay?”

I looked down and smiled again, though this time I felt like I had to fake it. “I am but I need to leave, I’m sorry. I don’t do crowds and noise and new people very well.”

Lily jumped up too and I saw her make some assumptions about my past. She probably thinks it’s PTSD, I thought, though I didn’t correct her.

She walked me to the door and we hugged. It felt familiar but at the same time, the connection felt stunted, as though it wasn’t quite there. I pulled away first and took out my wallet, where I fished out a piece of paper that I’d put in there that morning in the hope she might want to grab a drink at some point.

“My number,” I explained, handing it over.

Lily took it and after touching her sides and realising she had no pockets, slipped it into her bra instead. I chuckled and she shrugged, turning away and back towards the hall. I didn’t look back.

***

Chloe: Hey x

Mike: I’ve thrown you off your game, haven’t I?

Chloe: Yeah lol

Chloe: But I quite like that you have.

Mike: Good! I liked how things felt in the car when it was genuine and honest. Let’s stick to that.

Chloe: Okay so I have to be honest, and I can’t play games?

Mike: Correct.

I waited for a reply for a few minutes and when nothing was forthcoming, got up and off my mattress, grateful I left the night before when I did. A hangover accompanied my drinking more often than not, so it was a welcome change. I looked at my task list for the day before I’d even used the bathroom, such was the way my brain worked – I had to have my day planned before I started it, especially with my current lack of structure and routine. I needed to create some. Then there would be some exercise, a coffee, the news. When I got back to my phone a while later after following my well-practiced routine, I saw two further texts from Chloe.

Chloe: Okay, here goes nothing… in the spirit of being honest and open: I’d like to have sex with you. You already know I want you so I’m not going to pretend to play hard to get and make you take me on 3 dates just to have what I want now lol. I’m also willing to not see anyone else, to show you I’m serious about going on dates too, as you made it a condition of speaking to you and I will follow that.

Chloe: You’re not replying so I hope that wasn’t too forthright. This is why it’s better to have lines to use!!!

Mike: Sorry, I’d got out of bed and started my morning routine. I’d like that a lot.

Chloe: Morning routine?! Are we talking skincare?

I laughed out loud.

Mike: No. Bathroom, wake-up exercises, coffee, finalise daily schedule.

Chloe: Why is that strangely hot?

Mike: Because you’re horny?

Chloe: I am…

Mike: Are you free this evening?

Chloe: I will be if you tell me to be.

Mike: Do you always do as you’re told? I had you down as a tease.

Chloe: Only when the outcome is worth it…

Maybe there was more to it than just a spark, I thought, as I re-read Chloe’s message and sent her my address. I got on with building the bedframe, aware I’d now need it. More than once, as I focused on the mundane task, I thought of Lily. My thoughts were conflicted and ultimately, reckless.

_

Chloe’s knock at the door was light, nervous. As I walked to answer, I shared the same feeling. But when I opened the door, both of us hid it well. We smiled, greeted each other warmly and hugged. She looked fantastic. There was absolutely no doubt that she was dressed to seduce with black skinny jeans and a tight white top that was cut low on her chest and showed off the ample cleavage that had been hidden behind her jacket. I stared unashamedly, because how could I not? She blushed and I could tell she loved the way she had left me immediately speechless. Were I a more confident man, I might have invited her in, pushed her against the wall and kissed her.

Instead, I invited her in and offered her a drink. I’d thought it all out while I was putting the furniture together across the day. Have a couple of drinks, let things flow. I’d laid down my requirements to make this a thing and Chloe agreed with them. There was definitely something unusual about how we’d agreed to go about this. I laughed a little while later as we sat making idle chat.

“What?” Chloe asked with a smile and a blush.

“Just laughing at us,” I grinned. “Normally people go on dates before they get here and do the awkward dance. But we’ve already agreed to date so this feels awkward in a different way.”

“So why are you still acting like you haven’t already got me?” Chloe challenged, looking at me expectantly. “Come and get it big man.”

My pulse quickened and I put my bottle down. Best laid plans, huh Mike? I closed the distance between us and kissed her gently. She shared the slow intensity until we began to encourage each other to go faster; to be more urgent with our needs. Soon, she was laying back on the sofa with me on top of her, half focused on not trying to crush her small frame.

Chloe could kiss, she could kiss very well. In that moment, I was all she wanted. She kept opening her eyes and each time she did, she would kiss me with even more passion. My hands kept themselves honest, only roaming along her thighs and her sides until Chloe grabbed my hand in her much smaller one and placed it on her breast. Invite accepted, my honest hands became decidedly less so, gently kneading her substantial breasts over her top and her thin bra.

Chloe moaned throughout my barriered exploration until I could take it no more and my hand snaked its way under her top, over her flat stomach and onto her soft skin. I shifted the flimsy bra out of the way and felt her pebbled nipple. She gasped at my touch.

“This needs to come off,” I demanded, nodding towards her top.

She leaned forward and took it off. “I’m glad you asked instead of ripping it off,” she teased.

“I was getting close.”

I spent some time at her breasts, loving that even in my hands, they still overflowed. Her areolas were large and provided me with an excellent target to suck and lick. Chloe’s moans were music to my ears. This beautiful, voluptuous woman was losing control under my attention, and I’d barely started.

When I finally moved away from her breasts, intending to move further down, I saw that her hand was already in her jeans, her fingers moving in a slow rhythm as a result of my attention. I looked up at her and she was blushing. “That’s so hot,” I breathed. Her cheeks intensified in colour at my comment and then she gasped as I pulled her fingers away brought them to my mouth, tasting her.

“You need to take me to bed,” she warned.

“Or what,” I teased, definitely feeling the shift in power now.

She didn’t reply and I didn’t give her long to think of something witty. I picked her up from her position laying down and lifted her up, keeping her wrapped around me as I stood. She wrapped her legs around me and looked at me with lust. “Fuck, that’s hot,” she breathed.

When I took her to my freshly-built bed and dropped her down gently, she reached out and grabbed my cock over my shorts. “I want this,” she declared without any hesitation. Then she looked up at me and stared at me hotly. “I want it in my mouth, in my tight pussy, in any way you can give it to me. I want my big man to leave me spent.”

I groaned, pulling her jeans away in response. Her socks and underwear followed, as did her bra. I looked her over and had to stop myself diving in, just so I could take her all in. Her pierced belly button shone in the bright light, and I admired her small scattering of tattoos. A star near her mound, a flower running on the underside of her breast and the moon on her left bicep. It was a strange collection that only added to her appeal.

“I’ll leave you spent only after I’ve left you sweet,” I quipped lamely once I’d finished taking her in. She grinned; I knew she’d heard better lines.

I kissed my way down her body slowly, from her breasts to her legs, around her inviting pussy. As I kissed my way around, I could feel the heat radiating from her. Chloe’s impatience got the better of her when I was kissing her thighs and she tried to push my head towards her goal. I resisted and looked up at her sternly. She relented with a deep sigh.

“Fuck, this is torture – uh!”

Before she could finish, I had pressed my lips to her, licking along her soaking pussy, along her delicate lips and up to the small mound at the top. She gasped and bucked her hips up, wanting more. I attacked her clit without delay, pausing only to taste more of her juices from the source. When I knew she was beyond the point of no return, I inserted a finger and delighted over the sound of her lustful cursing. I kept up with my relentless stimulation – my tongue and jaw refused to tire until I forced an orgasm from her. When it happened, there was no doubting it. She was loud, she was tense, and she was exhausted from it. Her legs were shaking as I carried on fingering her through the aftershocks, my mouth treated to her juices. I looked up only when she pushed me away, one of my pillows still in her hand. “No more,” she begged.

I listened to her and made my way up to her face, kissing her breasts again as I did so. She pulled me into a kiss and then pushed me aside, still breathless. I rested beside her as she recovered, admiring her naked body.

“That was seriously intense,” she said at last. “I don’t know if I’m that good at sucking dick,” she joked. I could see her nerves and was surprised at the change. I guess I was better at oral than my under-utilised skills would have had me believe. I leaned over and kissed her lips gently, holding her cheek in my hand.

“How about we skip that one and head to the main course?” I whispered. She nodded and we resumed our kissing, with me slowly moving on top, my knees either side of her. “Are you okay?” I asked, with her looking up at me nervously.

“Yeah, just uh, go slowly, big man,” she replied with a shy grin.

“Of course,” I promised, unwrapping a condom. I sorted myself out and lined myself back up. “Take hold of it and guide me in, I want you to control the pace until you’re comfortable.” I could see how much she liked that.

When she started guiding me in, I moved slowly until she held her hand against me, adjusting to her size. “Wow, you’re thick.” She was so wet that it made the journey inside her a lot easier than it might have been.

“Take it easy baby, go as slow as you need,” I assured her.

“I’m going to be so sore,” she breathed. I picked up on the excitement but wanted to urge caution.

“We’ll go slowly until you’re ready.”

She nodded but her lust at the way I was stretching her won out. “When I’m ready I just want you to fuck me. Just go for it,” she insisted.

When I bottomed out inside her, she took a few steadying breaths and nodded. I pulled out slowly, then pushed in, mirroring the sounds of her calm breathing. I kept going until her hole felt sufficiently stretched and her face mirrored the pleasure I felt. Her pussy felt incredible and I knew, just from the way we looked at each other, the way we felt in bed together, that this wouldn’t be a one-time thing, even if we hadn’t already agreed to that.

I picked up speed, building her up. Her moans were loud almost to the second that I started to properly pump into her. I used her moans as music, guiding me on how she liked it and then focusing in on that rhythm until her moans turned to screams that she had to lean into my chest to silence. I fucked her hard, enjoying the pleasure I was giving her and the pleasure I was gaining from our coupling. It was definitely a fuck, but even then, it already felt like more.

I lasted longer than I thought I would before I felt myself on the journey towards orgasm. It had been many months and Chloe was by far the sexiest woman I had ever been with. Not just in looks, but by the noises she made, the movements she made, as she took me underneath her.

“I’m going to cum, how close are you?” I asked urgently.

“Really close,” she gasped, her fingers moving to her clit immediately. “Just go, it’ll get me there,” she begged, and I knew she meant fucking her hard and fast until I came.

I did as I was asked until I unloaded inside her, releasing my own loud moan as I did. Seconds later, Chloe followed me and pulled me to her, so we kissed as we both came. Somehow the forced silence felt even more intimate and erotic.

When we broke the kiss, we were both breathing deeply, Chloe especially. I pulled out and off her to give her some air and recovered beside her. We held hands as we caught our breaths, staring up at the blank ceiling. With Chloe beside me, I now knew why people put mirrors on their ceiling.

“Damn, that’s a lot of cum,” Chloe broke the silence, looking over at the full condom. “Was your intention to fuck me or drown me?”

***

“I like you,” Chloe admitted while laying on the sofa beside me a week later. Her phone had been buzzing almost constantly for the last couple of hours and it was on the edge of driving me insane. I had come to the same conclusion as she had, seeing her spend Friday evening on my sofa when her social life was clearly quite active.

Despite my annoyance, I smiled over at her in thanks at her kind words, partly because she was looking at me pointedly, expecting a reply. “This honesty policy is really changing you, isn’t it?”

Chloe blushed and shrugged. “I’m liking it, it’s a little different but I like it.”

“You like being honest?” I asked with a chuckle, gaining yet more insight into what Chloe was like.

Chloe only picked up on my humour, not my disbelief. She smirked and chucked a cushion at me. “You know what I mean. Knowing I have to speak my mind and you won’t let me put on a show for you.”

‘Putting on a show’ is what I’d called Chloe’s flirtatious, fake side. Chloe took the term and ran with it, to the point where I felt she’d lost its meaning. I was perhaps being too harsh, the more I thought about it, because I recognised how much she was trying. What her intentions were, were less clear, perhaps even to her. I was certain the effort she was investing in our dating stage was for one of three reasons: to prove that she could; for her own self-growth or because she saw something in me that differentiated me from others. I suspected it was a combination of all three, which I was fine with, depending on the amount of each.

I paused the movie we were watching before I lost track of the plot. Years spent away meant I missed most of the Marvel films and Chloe was enjoying bringing me up to speed. We’d watched 3 of them in the week since we met. We’d actually seen each other almost every day.

I saw her glance at her phone again and look away guiltily. I read the situation easily enough. “You’re getting shit for not being out again, aren’t you?”

She nodded, still with a look of guilt. “They’re not used to me dropping out of plans like this,” she admitted. I admired her honesty there – more than her earlier ‘I like you’ which was clearly prompted from the same sense of guilt.

Chloe’s friends were out the previous weekend, when Chloe cancelled on them; the following evening when she’d come back with an overnight bag and then twice more during the week. Now they were out again on the Friday, making her feel bad for missing out. I felt bad too – I didn’t want to be seen as one of those guys that her friends thought was stealing her away or worse, stopping her from going out.

“Why’d you like me, Chloe?” I asked her in response.

She looked slightly startled by my question, probably not helped by her current feeling of guilt. She paused, brushing her blonde hair back behind her ear. Her face was well-done with make-up, which she always wore all day, even though I knew from her facial structure and complexion, that’d she’ be extremely attractive without it. She had a weird habit of not letting me see her apply her make up in the mornings, as though it was a secret. But everyone had their weird habits, me especially.

Eventually she replied after giving it due consideration, “Because you’re serious and mature. You’re different and you’re not boring, even when we do boring things,” she said, pointing at the tv and making us both laugh – she was quick witted when she wasn’t actively trying to be, “and you keep me on my toes. I can’t take advantage of you, and I find that sexy.”

My eyebrows were approaching my hairline at the end of her answer, I was truly surprised by it. Her ability to be forthright with her views, to own them, was impressive. Yes, I wanted honesty from her, but I hadn’t banked on her level of openness.

“Happy with that?” Chloe added after a pause when my thinking had dragged out my silence for too long.

“I’m happy with whatever answer you were gonna give me,” I replied, arms up as though in apology. “Look, I’m not happy with how frequently you’re turning down your friends to be with me, as much as I appreciate it.”

Chloe looked ready to argue so I raised a hand and she fell silent, letting me finish.

“What I mean is, you’re turning down your friends a lot and that may backfire on you. I know this,” I drew my finger between us, “is exciting you, you weirdo, but you do need to make time for your friends. You should go out this evening.”

There was a quiet silence between us as Chloe absorbed my suggestion. “Right, so I tell you I like you and you tell me to fuck off?”

She stood up quite suddenly and looked close to tears as she sped towards the bedroom. They were angry tears. I stood up too and followed, immediately seeking to reassure her.

“No no, that’s not what I meant,” I said firmly. Perhaps a touch more firmly than I intended as she stopped her packing and looked over at me. I spoke more softly this time and added, “I meant I want you to go out and not alienate yourself from your friends.”

“Fine,” she replied, softening, “why don’t you join me?”

“Huh?” I was thrown not just by her offer but the way the storm had dissipated so quickly.

“Join me?” she asked softly, a touch flirtatiously. A touch showy.

I didn’t want to, unsurprisingly. Spending my Friday night with a bunch of women in their early 20’s wasn’t my idea of fun. Maybe that made me weird. But I knew I needed to make some concessions, given how many Chloe was making. Besides, having sight of what she was like on a night out would be a helpful observation, I reasoned.

“Okay,” I conceded, ignoring the way she’d asked me, lest it start another argument. “But message your friends and ask if it’s okay.”

An hour later we were in the bar, ordering cocktails with a loud group of women. That there were only four of them, plus the pair of us, was hard to believe, given the noise they generated in laughs and shrieks. They were a friendly bunch, that was undeniable. Sharp too, with the gags about me being an old man, when I ordered an Old Fashioned.

I had seen the message from Chloe, letting the group know I’d insisted she go out for drinks, and she wanted me to come in exchange. It seemed to earn me some brownie points from the group and certainly, they welcomed me in more warmly than I was expecting. I was acutely aware that this was the exact kind of group that wouldn’t have given me the time of day in the past, when I was covered in acne. Now they flirted with me, at points bordering on outrageously so, as Chloe goofily grinned. They eyed up guys hungrily and spoke of men they’d like to fuck at work or at the gym. I could tell Chloe was very mindful of my presence and her responses might otherwise have been very different. Her glances did start to linger on men the more she had to drink, and she was becoming increasingly flirty and suggestive to me. I could see signs of what she’d be like without me there and there were alarm bells going off quietly in my head.

Eventually, as it neared midnight, I let out a sigh, “I’m sorry ladies, I’m really starting to tire. Loud noise, you know?” I said, pointing to the speaker system as a way to reassure them that their screeching had nothing to do with it. Chloe looked over at them meaningfully. Army man, loud noises, come on girls, get the hint.

“Oh of course!”

“Thanks for staying out with us!”

I could see them looking over at Chloe, almost encouraging her to go home with the soldier. I could see she loved it, like she was being tasked with something important.

We went to bed together, where Chloe’s orgasms might have given me the headache I had just faked. I was still adjusting to being able to do that to a smoking-hot blonde, who clearly had her fair share of men.

We slept soundly until I woke at 7am, on the dot, and began my morning ritual. Chloe slept on, now used to it. I woke her up at 9am, as I did exactly a week before, with a coffee.

“Did you have a good evening?” Chloe asked, when the coffee hit her. The girl had put the drinks away something serious but yet, her hangover was minor, at best.

“I did,” I admitted, despite myself, “did you?”

Chloe smiled, blowing on her liquid. “Yeah, I was glad you said we should leave when we did, I was starting to get too drunk and I’m not ready for you to see that side of me yet.”

“What’s that side look like?” I was immediately intrigued that she’d referenced it. Maybe she knew I’d seen signs of it.

Chloe shrugged it off. “Do you remember their names? I feel like you never asked after the first time.”

“Michelle, Kerry, Tesha & Hannah,” I reeled off in turn. “Why did you assume I hadn’t?” It was more curiosity than annoyance.

“I dunno, some of my exes haven’t bothered to remember them,” she blushed, realising as she spoke just how that sounded.

“Well, you’re not introducing them to the right men,” I countered with a reassuring smile.

I made us breakfast as Chloe did her makeup and then joined me, barefoot and in one of the new shirts I’d bought alongside a couple of new suits, that she’d hijacked the second I was done trying it on.

“What are you up to today?” She asked, tip-toping up to kiss my cheek.

I already knew my plan for the day, and she knew that too, which I liked. “I’m sending off a few applications and then meeting my little sister and her boyfriend for dinner. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” I offered, not keen for her to rush off, now I’d seen she was naked under my shirt.

We ate and then Chloe lounged around for the morning while I worked on job applications. I had enough money to go another few months without a job but that would leave me very little wriggle-room when I wanted to settle down in the future. I couldn’t leave that level of planning down to impulse.

Eventually she grew bored, I could tell. I ignored her, beyond shooting her a few sympathetic smiles, feeling quite rightly, that she was under no obligation to stay and that my finding a job was more of a priority than her short-term boredom.

“I’m bored,” she announced, rather obviously.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous,” I replied, rather obviously too, cutting the sympathy short in response.

Chloe huffed and then made her way over. I was immediately feeling a level of dread that I shouldn’t have been feeling, given I was anticipating what she planned to do. She kissed along my jaw, along my neck and then towards my ear. “Distract me,” she whispered.

I ignored her which just seemed to make her more determined. She worked her way down my body and pulled down my shorts, fishing my cock out, which became hard in her hands. I groaned.

“I was trying to concentrate,” I groaned again, as she moved to her knees and took my growing cock in her mouth.

“Let me cure my boredom Daddy,” she whispered flirtatiously, proceeding to lick along my shaft with her eyes on me.

I moaned, at her actions and what she’d just said. I was partly offended (I mean, I was 29!) but more than a little aroused regardless. As expected, arousal won out, especially as her oral stimulation continued.

Chloe was, unsurprisingly, very good at oral despite what she thought that first time. Her added dirty talk and her new name for me, turned me on more until I felt like I had to do something about it. I pulled her off my cock, picked her up off the floor like she was weightless and carried her to the bedroom. She groaned at my easy manhandling of her and wrapped her arms around me.

“I want you inside me Daddy,” she whispered hotly, losing some of the shyness now I hadn’t reacted negatively to it the first time.

I pushed myself inside her, slowly, tenderly. The nature of our mood, spurred on by her behaviour and what she was calling me, changed our coupling. It was, for the first time, slower, perhaps more intense and it felt more meaningful.

I held her face as I slowly but firmly thrusted inside her. “You’re so tight,” I gasped, realising just how much that was true now I was taking my time and not hammering away at her roughly, the way we both normally liked it.

“You’re so big Daddy,” she gasped, getting into it.

I could see why. My cock was thick, and it seemed to be twice the size of what her hole would accept. My body doubled hers. Her legs wrapped around my muscled frame but left little to spare. Were it not for her breasts, which defied the proportion of her body, I might have looked double her size. Our intimacy grew, as my cock widened her hole. Our eyes remained locked and what had been instigated by a bored partner, had morphed into perhaps the most powerful sex of my life. I kept up a steady rhythm and started to groan from the intensity of the coupling. Chloe was moaning, desperate for more.

We gripped each other tightly and I stayed on top. There was no shifting of positions, no closing of eyes. We were locked into it, deeply engrossed in the pleasure. Her orgasm built as she started to whimper from my slow, deliberate thrusts. Then it hit her, and she gasped, thrusting her body upwards, trapped in my arms. I loved the feel of her under me, the intimacy of our coupling. When she came, it was the tightening of her hole around my cock that acted as the final point from which my orgasm couldn’t return, and I showered her insides with my cum, as we both moaned our way through it.

When her breath returned, some time after mine, Chloe smiled up at me. “I’m so glad I chose you to be my first without a condom Daddy.”

I rolled off, a little put-out by her continued use of the word now our sex was over. Chloe followed me back over.

“Are you okay with me calling you that?”

Her tone was confident, as though she was giving me a great gift and of course I’d be happy with that. My thoughts were much more mixed. I was thrown by what the word alluded to in terms of the difference in our maturity but at the same time, the dynamic it created, had spoke to me in a way that years of meaningless sex had never come close. Did I find it powerful because she had said it in that moment, or because of the nature of what it meant?

“I may start dying my hair,” I said, and she snorted while I continued on, “but yeah, I think so. I’ve not done anything like that before,” I admitted.

Chloe rolled off and reached for the towel we used to clean up after sex, which she promptly put towards her leaking pussy. “Me neither but I’ve fantasised about it a lot and yeah, I’ve been feeling like that was right with you.”

She looked over at me shyly and succeeded in being cute enough to earn a kiss. “That’s a compliment, isn’t it?” I asked rhetorically, as I pulled away from her soft lips.

She answered anyway. “Very much so. I feel very safe with you, and I feel looked after.”

It was, whether Chloe knew it or not, the most profound thing she’d say to me and something that would change how I viewed the value I could bring to a relationship, long after our own relationship had run its course.

***

Megan had gratefully accepted my request that I bring a plus one to our dinner that evening, putting less pressure on her own relationship. After what Chloe and I had just shared, I felt very close to her – and it was clear she felt the same. Her focus on getting herself ready and making a good impression with my sister, hadn’t gone unnoticed. Neither had the fact that she always packed an outfit for every type of occasion.

She stepped into my living room with her freshly dried hair in a ponytail, a respectably long velvet skirt and a patterned blouse to match. Her focus on displaying her maturity was clear, with both of us recognising my younger sister was still older than her.

While she’d got herself ready, I’d finalised plans with Lily to meet that Tuesday evening. I held what I considered to be a justifiable frustration in taking 10 days for us to meet up but said nothing beyond enthusiastic agreement.

Lily: I really can’t wait to catch up with you. Just so you know, you have to dress up for the bar, I hope that’s okay?

I reflected, again, that Lily seemed now to be embracing the kind of life she seemed destined for but had always rebelled against during university – classy, high-end and dare I say, elitist. I recalled frustrated conversations where I’d tease her about the men that would wear a suit jacket on their first date with her, such was the way she carried herself and the way she looked. She always responded scornfully: I can’t help how I look, and I hate how I always feel like a trophy.

We met Megan and Mathew at a simple Japanese restaurant in town. I took to Mathew straight away, despite my natural brotherly reservations. He adored Megan, I could see it in him; he absolutely loved her. Moreso, she felt the same back. Throughout dinner, I smiled at their little bits of banter, the way she ruffled his hair or tried the bits of sushi he was unsure about, knowing if he’d like it or not. He paid and she let him, without fight, as though it was normal that he’d pay. He was interested in my background and passed not even the slightest judgement on my abandoning the care of my grandma to Megan and our Mum over the last few years, despite the likelihood she would have, at least at some point, complained to him about it.

I wished Megan had taken to Chloe as well as I had Mathew. It was clear from the start that Megan wouldn’t, to my great frustration. In a way, I couldn’t blame Chloe for over-compensating. Chloe went out of her way to show how hard she worked at her job in a science lab, referenced our shared Chemistry background and used her job as a way to explain her ‘work hard, play hard’ mentality. It didn’t land with Megan, whose interest became rather forced, even under my threatening stare. To add cringe to awkwardness, Chloe started to mirror the behaviour of my sister and Mathew – ruffling my hair or sharing her food with me – neither of which I enjoyed at the best of times and Megan knew it.

When we parted, it was clear to at least 3 of us, that one of the relationships was doomed to fail. Stubborn as I was though, I refused to accept it and wrapped my arm around Chloe as both couples went their separate ways.

An hour or so later, Megan as expected, messaged me.

Megan: Thanks for coming bro and being so good with Mathew