‘Big night tonight: it’s the pool tournament!’
‘What?’
‘I said, pool tournament tonight. Big night - the place will be packed.’ Eric stopped smoothing the pool table baize and stared across the room at Susan. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with you these days. You’re always miles away. Is something wrong?’
She flashed him a smile and picked up another glass to polish. ‘No, nothing’s wrong at all love. I’m just tired, you know I don’t sleep well.’
Eric grunted at that and returned his attention to the pool table. She rarely complained about his snoring but there was a word now and then - not exactly nagging, just a word or two. He had suggested she use ear plugs but that had fallen on deaf ears. Eric chuckled to himself as he polished the pool cues, deaf ears - if only! That way she would get a good nights sleep, and he wouldn’t feel guilty every morning.
Susan absentmindedly polished the same glass for the third time. It had been two weeks since that day in the motel. Two weeks, during which pure golden joy had slowly turned to leaden misery. Even before she had got home she had texted him:
thank u so much for today it was.....
She had ached for him, felt a genuine physical ache to be with him, or for him to be inside her to be precise, then more texts as she lay in her bath that night, her own fingers exploring where his should have been - where they had been so recently, where his tongue had been.
in the bath now, wish u could wash my....
She had genuinely forgotten the feeling of a tongue inside her; how it felt to experience the heat of his mouth between her legs, his tongue twisting and searching. She had silently masturbated in the bath, all the time picturing Harry’s eyes boring into her, his need for her so clear, so stimulating, whilst his lips tight around her clitoris.
when can we meet again? i can make the....
Afterwards, as she lay in the tepid water waiting for Harry’s response, she tried to recall the last time Eric had put his head between her legs. At their most sexual it had been a rare event - rare and very brief. He didn’t like doing it, he said it wasn’t what men did, and he made it very clear that he didn’t like the taste or the smell. It was only when Harry had parted her thighs that she realised how dirty Eric had made her feel for wanting oral sex - she’d been left feeling almost ashamed of herself. But that was a long time ago and Eric had so many other virtues. There was so much that bound them together, so many shared interests - just none of them sexual.
Once she was dressed and back downstairs in the bar, Susan checked her phone again. There was still no response from Harry.
are you there......
And so it seemed that passion had appeared out of the blue and, once again, disappeared just as abruptly. Susan put the last of the glasses on the shelf above the bar and sighed to herself. It was just like the last time Harry had showed up. A brief liaison and then, nothing.
She just had to accept the fact that no-one really fancied her. Eric certainly didn’t and now - for the second time - Harry had turned up and then vanished without a word. It was the only explanation she could come up with - she must be boring, sexually.
As she watched her husband fuss around the pool room making sure everything was perfect for the ‘big night’, Susan reflected on her relationship with Harry during their school days. She could still see him now, sitting across from her in the art class, once she had looked into those grey eyes there was no looking away, no forgetting. But the fights had been terrible, mostly caused by the insane jealousy from both of them - a jealousy so trivial yet so intense that it tore them apart and made her physically ill. But then there was the making up that was even more intense and passionate, so that all the hatred and pain was forgotten ... until the next time ... and there was always a next time.
Her mother really had hated him, hated what he did to her daughter, and she had convinced Susan - if she had needed convincing - that they couldn’t exist together. A lifetime later she knew her mother had been right. Who could build a relationship with someone that obviously took nothing seriously - that didn’t take her seriously.
*
The door burst open and the visiting pool team spilled into the bar laughing and joking and Susan realised her time for reflection was over for the evening - except for each time she curled her hand around a pump and her mind flew back to Harry’s long, thick, wonderful cock.
*
Heart pounding fit to burst, Harry closed his eyes as the sweat rolled down his face. His eyes stung but he wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop, he had to do it over and over again till he was exhausted.
The timer pinged and, for the first time in an hour, he slowed down as the exercise bike began it’s warm down cycle. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of himself in the floor-length mirror - not bad for an old fella. In the past he had been compared to Russell Crowe, and when Gladiator had come out there had been quite a few women that wanted to test his strength. Harry smiled ruefully. It had been a great time but it was years ago, and he was now squinting at himself through sweat-blurred eyes.
He wore headphones to exclude the chatter of the gym but he had no idea what music had been playing from his iPod. No matter what he did, no matter how tired or how drunk he got, the only thoughts in his head were about Susan.
Harry had read the texts over and over but he still hadn’t a clue what to do, how to reply - or whether to reply at all. Like a high definition movie, that afternoon together kept replaying in his mind’s eye. It had been a wonderful few hours, all the more so compared with the previous meeting - compared with what he had thought would happen. He had been expecting another brusque encounter: the second and the last.
Towelling the sweat from his face and swung off the bike, stretched his shoulders and headed for the changing room. He had spent three hours on various machines and he desperately needed a shower - almost as desperately as he needed to sort his head out. Dumping his kit in a pile on the changing room floor, he stepped into the shower and turned it on as hot as he could bear.
When he had first tried to find her, the last thing he imagined happening was the re-ignition of that old spark, of the insane passion that he had managed to forget about, managed to bury in the deepest recess of his mind. When they had actually met he had been surprised at his feelings, but that first attempt at sex had dispelled all romantic and erotic notions. Harry had to admit to himself that it had been a disappointment but it had fitted with his expectations of her: happy and content at home; just a quick fuck for old time’s sake. The entire experience, from meeting in the car park to saying goodbye in the motel room, had taken less than an hour, and the mood had been practical - as if it was a bad experience she had to get through as quickly as possible, as clinical as a visit to the doctor’s for a smear test. It had left Harry cold and he had thought long and hard about the second meeting but, as ever, he was a slave to his cock.
But the woman who had turned up the second time was a totally different person, and Harry had been blown away - literally and emotionally. The subsequent text messages had not helped. The memories and feelings had crawled out of the pit and, coupled with the experiences of that day, had filled his mind with a torment he had hoped never to go through again. If he was not very careful he would fall hopelessly in love with this girl, this woman!
Harry stepped out of the shower and quickly grabbed a towel. Yet again just the thought of her had given him a hard on, and the last thing he wanted was to be seen wandering around a men’s changing room with a stiff cock. If only Susan was at home waiting, or in the next changing room. These were the same thoughts that had been whizzing round his head for days, and Harry knew he had to stop them. He had to clear his mind.
As he walked towards his car Harry made a decision. There was no way he could ignore the physical impact she had on him; there was no way he was going to ignore it. But there was no way he was going to allow her to tear his soul apart ... Again. His BlackBerry beeped.
hi sexy, how are u? soon be xmas xx
There was only one way he could play this: he knew he had to treat her like all of the other woman he had screwed - as a good fuck, an adventure, and nothing more. Fuck her brains out as often as possible and just enjoy that for what it was. No real intimacy, no involvement; keep his heart closed and her legs open. That was the only way he would survive.
*
The pool night, as usual, had been a huge success. Susan and Amanda had been run off their feet and both were relieved when Eric eventually called ‘time’. It was the only thing that he had done all evening and Susan had to bite back a sharp comment.
‘Been a good night, Sue, just going to have a couple more games with the lads while you girls tidy up here, ok?’
Susan smiled dutifully. Her husband had no hobbies and this one night a week was his big treat - how could she resent him for that?
Walking away from the bar, with six fresh pints carefully balanced on a tray, Eric turned back to Susan. ‘Oh yes, someone’s thrown up in the gents, can you sort it out?’
*
Susan twisted the mop the dry, and for just one moment she imagined it was Eric’s thick head she was wringing out. The gut-wrenching stench of vomit had finally been obliterated by the fierce smell of bleach, and, ever practical, Susan reminded herself that the toilets would’ve had to be cleaned at the end of the night anyway, so why was she so angry? As she reached to open a window above the urinal, her phone, deep in her jeans pocket, vibrated. The sensation startled her and she dropped the mop.
hey, what you up to?
want to meet? H xx