Chapter Three

‘Where is she then?’ Susie was sitting in the kitchen at home, drinking tea, and her mum was crying. She’d hardly ever cried during Susie’s lifetime, so Susie knew how seriously wrong the situation was.

Sophie had vanished from home almost three weeks before and not a word had been heard from her since. The note she’d left behind was brief and unhelpful: Mum, it said, I’ve left home. Don’t know how long I’ll be away. It was signed with the large curving S that was Sophie’s signature.

That note, intended to give comfort to her mother, had done nothing of the sort. It didn’t say why, where or who with, but it did give the police a reason to do nothing at all. They said, quite properly, that twenty-year-old girls are allowed to do what they like and a great many of them do just that. ‘There’s nothing anyone can do,’ the sergeant had explained, ‘except wait, and hope she’ll come back.’

But Sophie had vanished and, thanks to the note, she wasn’t even on the missing person’s list.

‘I thought she’d come to you,’ sobbed her mother, but Susie had heard nothing. No phone calls, no letters, no visit. Susie was as surprised as her mother that this was so; though the two girls were not truthfully sisters, Sophie being her father’s daughter and Susie her mother’s, they’d been brought together while Susie was still only three years old and Sophie hardly a year, so there was little or no difference in their minds. The fact that they looked so similar, with that rare combination of powder-blue eyes and Scandinavian blonde hair, only served to cement the instant bond between them. They’d been best friends at once and had remained close all through the trials of childhood and adolescence. They’d shared everything as they grew, maybe closer to each other than real sisters would have been because they weren’t actually related.

As they grew older the two-year age difference meant they were less able to share things, and though Sophie looked up to Susie and Susie looked after her sister, they matured separately.

But they were still close, and had remained so after Susie left home, meeting in clubs and pubs very often while Susie was at college and Sophie still at school, speaking endlessly on the telephone once Susie had moved away, and writing to each other rather less frequently. Susie couldn’t believe Sophie could have been unhappy without telling her, nor that she might have left home so abruptly without saying goodbye, never mind saying why or where. But Sophie’s disappearance was absolute, and there was no apparent reason why she should have gone.

‘She’d been so happy just lately,’ said her mother, ‘with her new boyfriend, Hugh. Seemed a decent sort of chap. Very good parents, I believe,’ she sniffed, stifling Susie’s next and most obvious questions, although Susie was better aware than most that so-called ‘good parents’ didn’t disqualify people from villainy. Quite the reverse, in fact. She made a mental note to find this Hugh and see what she made of him.

In the three weeks since she’d vanished Sophie might have gone anywhere, and should really have called. But Susie had been away, so perhaps Sophie had tried to get in touch and failed. The information comforted her mother only slightly.

‘Tell you what,’ Susie said. ‘I’ll ask around for a day or two, then I’ll head back to London and hope there’s a letter at the flat. Or maybe she’ll call.’

‘Okay,’ her mother snuffled into her tissue, and that was settled.

Susie carried her overnight bag up to her old bedroom, an odd nostalgic journey that brought memories crowding back, all the more poignant and real because she hadn’t been in the room since she started college.

She’d been home before, to see her mum, dropping in to say hello on the way through, always to or from somewhere and never with the time to stop for long. She had never been close to her mother like Sophie was, but that was hardly surprising since her mother had never been very keen on what she called Susie’s ‘wayward behaviour’. Which was her mother’s polite euphemism for what she’d seen Susie doing in front of the dressing table mirror when she’d walked into her bedroom unannounced one evening. It was a miracle it hadn’t happened sooner, really.

Now, in the warm stillness of her old bedroom, Susie felt a tremor of excitement as she remembered how in that room she’d discovered the delights her clever fingers could bring, and those very fingers brushed the front of her jeans, feeling the sudden warmth of arousal within.

In the mirror she watched her fingers deftly pop the buttons one by one, exposing the white knickers beneath, admired her own slim hips while her hands peeled the tight jeans down until they were around her thighs and she could see the gentle swell of her mound.

Her knuckles stretched the filmy white material tight as her hand pushed under the waistband and her fingers searched lower, through the short blonde down until they reached the smoothly-shaved flesh below, already heated with arousal. Then she felt the oily juices seeping from her waiting flesh and she curled her fingers, sliding first one, then another, inside.

Susie stood in front of the mirror and watched her hand, circling and flexing as she worked two fingers in and out of herself, and she saw the gentle thrusting of her pelvis as her climax began and she gasped several times, trying to suppress the sound so as not to alert her mother. Her knees buckled and she grabbed the edge of the dressing table with her left hand, but her right didn’t miss a beat until her orgasm had completely subsided and she began to relax in a comforting glow.

Feeling at peace with herself she washed, put on freshly laundered underwear, brushed her hair and decided it was time for action. She ran lightly down the stairs, said a comforting goodbye to her mother, and set off.

She’d decided to do the sensible thing and visit the police station first, though she got no more from them than her mother had. Not even when she produced her press card and her business card. That raised the odd eyebrow, of course; they all recognised the name of the paper and were thereafter a little more helpful and a lot more polite, but no one really seemed to care where Sophie might have disappeared to.

‘You know how it is, miss,’ said the desk sergeant, somewhat patronisingly. ‘She’s legally an adult and she can go anywhere and do anything, and we can’t stop her - or spend time looking for her. You could try the Salvation Army,’ he offered with a shrug, but they both knew there was little chance of finding Sophie unless she wanted to be found.

Rather than go home and share the depressing news with her already miserable mother, Susie called on her mobile and said she was going into town in search of Sophie’s friends. That done, she set off, enjoying the early evening stroll towards town, a genuine trip down memory lane that took her past the youth club where she’d deliberately flirted in front of all those spotty youths who’d drooled over her and craved to be the one to take her virginity.

She was still in nostalgic mood as she entered the bar of the Bridge, seemingly unchanged in all the years she’d known it. She sat in the corner with her white wine and soda, watching as the place filled with familiar faces, including Eric, who so nearly was her first, but came and went before he’d entered, so to speak. And he was obviously remembering that night as well, and was clearly still embarrassed by it, as he gave her a grudging nod of recognition and turned away.

And there - was that Gary whatever-his-name-was, the stuttering one? She had to wait for him to order a drink before she was certain, but when he said, ‘P-p-p...’ and John behind the bar said, ‘Pint of bitter, Gaz?’ pouring it as he asked, she knew it was him. And she knew he was sensible and polite and that he’d know Sophie, because she also knew the younger Gary had lusted after her own body, and hung around endlessly in the vain hope she might let him have it. Which was ridiculous. But even so, he’d been around long enough to become friendly with her sister.

‘Hi, Gary,’ she said, light and friendly as she could, leaning beside him at the bar and offering her glass to the barman. ‘Same again please, John.’

‘He-he-here... l-l-let m-m-m-me.’ He waved some notes at John.

‘Oh, Gary, that’s all right,’ she said quickly, remembering just in time how long and painful a process Gary’s stuttering insistence could be. ‘You don’t have to do that - but thanks.’

‘You look well,’ she said as they sat side by side at her corner table, and to be fair, the years had improved him a little. He looked fit and healthy, taller and fuller, though he still had a pointed face with beady eyes.

‘I’m f-f-f-fine. You?’

‘Oh, you know,’ she said and shrugged. ‘I’m a little worried about Sophie. It seems she’s run away from home...’ and she noticed him shift uncomfortably, a hint of guilt shadowing his face.

‘I-I-I’m sorry to hear th-th-that,’ he managed, avoiding her eyes, looking at the table, and she blazed with certainty that Gary knew something he shouldn’t.

Picking up her glass and trying to look casual she pressed her leg against his under the table. ‘Bottoms up,’ she said, and his eyes widened. She let her leg rest against his for a moment longer and then asked, ‘Have you seen her lately? Mum said she had a boyfriend.’ And she leaned towards him, sliding along the seat so her hip touched his as well.

Gary started slightly and then relaxed, settling into the wooden seat with a look that was almost one of pride, obviously thinking she found him attractive. Without further prompting he told her about Sophie and Hugh, and how they seemed happy together. But she knew he was holding something back, and she asked about where they went, and what they did, and were they all in a gang together?

‘How did Sophie get on with the rest of you, if she was one girl in a crowd of blokes?’ she asked, and as a dark shadow flitted across Gary’s expression she knew she was getting closer. ‘Was there any problem?’ she enquired gently, pressing more firmly against him while looking wide-eyed and innocent.

‘N-n-no,’ he stuttered with difficulty.

‘Sophie wasn’t, you know, messing around with one of the others... you, for example?’ She gave him a knowing smile as she rubbed her thigh against his under the table.

‘N-n-no,’ he blushed. ‘Nothing like th-th-that.’

It was a big effort as usual, every word a struggle, but she knew there was more. ‘Only I know she’s a bit lively,’ she said, trying to hint that she was just one of the lads and so was her sister. ‘In fact, she takes after me,’ she goaded, resting her hand deliberately on Gary’s thigh. ‘She likes to live dangerously. And she likes to be fulfilled, if you know what I mean.’

Susie had no idea if any of this was true of her sister in the last few months, but it seemed to encourage Gary.

‘Oh, sh-sh-sh-she liked to be f-f-f-f-filled,’ he said, and looked guiltily at Susie, as if trying to gauge her reaction. She knew he’d meant to use a different word there. But she also sensed his nervousness and realised this was not the right moment to press him too hard for information. One more question and he might shut up forever. Instead, she opted for encouragement.

‘Don’t we all,’ she purred, sliding her fingertips higher towards his groin and deeper between his legs until she was almost touching him - there.

‘Y-y-yes,’ he gulped. ‘I s-s-suppose we do.’

‘Come on then, Gary,’ she purred. ‘Why don’t you walk me home?’

He fairly leaped out of his seat at the suggestion and when she tucked her arm in his he visibly swelled with pride. Outside in the street she snuggled against him as they walked, and when she steered him so they turned left at the end of the road, away from her home and towards the bus shelter, his stuttering reached fever pitch.

‘Did you ever walk Sophie home this way?’ she asked sweetly.

‘N-n-no. She w-w-was - ’

‘Hugh’s girlfriend,’ Susie interrupted, the temptation to finish sentences for him overwhelming, though she knew she shouldn’t. ‘Yes, I know she was.’ As they reached the darkened entrance she steered him gently inside the bus shelter, luckily empty, and lifted her face to kiss him gently.

‘Did you ever kiss Sophie like that?’ she asked quietly when their lips parted.

‘N-n-n-no,’ he said.

‘I think you’re kidding me,’ she said, and laid the flat of her hand along his thigh, stroking upwards, tantalisingly close.

He shook his head. ‘N-n-n-no...’ His voice rose sharply as her hand came to rest on the front of his trousers, finding the upright shaft, thick and rigid against her palm.

‘I bet you know the sort of things Sophie likes,’ she said deliberately, feeling very calm as her other hand took his wrist from her waist and guided it downwards, brushing across the front of her own jeans, resting his palm against her mound. ‘I bet she likes this,’ she whispered, shuffling her feet apart and pressing her fingers over his, curling them down between her legs to rest against the moist heat radiating through the denim.

‘I-I-I...’ He fell silent as Susie relaxed her grip and began to unbutton her jeans. He still didn’t speak as she took his wrist again, lifted it, and pushed his hand down, slipping the fingers across the silky material of her knickers, pressing them deeper until they were suddenly searching in the humidity of her groin, pushing the wet fabric up into her body, starting a fresh flow of juices and making her legs move an involuntary inch further apart as she pressed herself gently. ‘I w-w-wouldn’t know,’ he finished.

‘Oh, Gary,’ she whispered, the words forced out unbidden as his fingers finally developed a life of their own and scrabbled past the elastic and inside her knickers, spreading her softness and probing deeper. ‘I think you would.’ She used her free hand to wriggle her jeans lower on her hips and make enough room inside them for him to bend his wrist and get his fingers right into her body.

‘N-n-nev...’ he started, attempting to deny the accusation, and as he stuttered his whole body seemed to jerk, making his fingers jump inside her in a highly arousing fashion. And it had the effect of making his erection lurch against her palm, reminding her of its size and strength and causing her warm flow to coat his fingers.

‘Oooh,’ he exhaled, as her fingers were busy below his waist, unzipping him in one swift movement. They wriggled through the opening, finding him hard and thick inside his boxers, which clung wetly to the rounded tip, already seeping fluid.

Gary froze, and the stuttering stopped. Susie had his undivided attention as she squeezed her fingers gently around his shaft, searching until she found the opening in his pants and plucked him out, the sticky end slithering in her palm as she began to massage him gently. As her hips described needful little circles Gary’s hand responded to the prompting and he started to slide his fingers back and forth inside her, his movements keeping time with hers.

She leaned forward and they kissed, and then, not wanting to break the spell, she carefully and seductively breathed, ‘So if you’ve never done anything like this together, how do you know Sophie likes being filled so much?’

His stuttering reply was immediate and he tried to break away from her. But she held him fast with his hand trapped between her legs, and kept her grip on his erection as he bent away from her at the waist. Slowly she pulled him back towards her and as he relaxed so did she, starting to pump him very slowly once again.

Within a few moments he returned the favour as the sensations overcame him and he couldn’t do anything but respond, pushing in and out of her, fingers slipping around in the wetness, spreading her wider, making her gasp. Waves of pleasure began spreading upwards from her groin, warm ripples of delight that made her want more, craving the absolute release of orgasm. She pressed her body against his, mouths together, one fist sliding up and down the length of his shaft as the other scrabbled frantically at the loosened waistband of her jeans, pushing them down her thighs to her knees, where she could kick them lower.

Cold air drifted around her almost-naked bottom and she revelled in the sudden freedom, the extra movement the freedom allowed his busy hand, the extra depth his fingers reached inside her, filling her more than before, but still not enough. ‘Fill me, Gary,’ she urged into his ear, remembering her task, and pulling him closer until she could feel the bulbous round end pressed against her. ‘Fill me now.’

She leaned back against the wall of the shelter, feeling the cold rough concrete through her T-shirt and scraping her bottom, but it didn’t matter because she could now tilt her hips for him. She pulled him to her.

‘Fill me now,’ she panted as he slid his fingers free and pressed his bursting helmet between her sex lips. ‘Fill me like you filled Sophie.’

‘I-I never,’ he spluttered. ‘She f-f-filled herself.’ He leaned his weight against her, pushing up into her opening until her hand, gripping his shaft like a collar, brought him to a halt, a throbbing inch inside her, spreading but not penetrating, frustrating both of them to the same degree. Both wanted more, but Susie needed an answer first.

‘Tell me,’ she demanded, and relaxed her grip a second so he could feel himself begin to slide into the heavenly wetness. Then she clamped tight again, holding him there, still desperate to be embedded in her.

‘I s-s-saw her. In a f-f-f-film.’ And the way his body slumped she knew he’d crossed an unspoken boundary and passed the psychological point of no return. Which was just as well because she was almost past a different point herself, and she slowly released her grip, letting him glide inch by glorious inch into her until she was full up with him, as deep as she wanted.

‘Fuck me, Gary,’ she said, and this time it was for her, not for Sophie, but he groaned with confused delight and despair as his prick instantly jerked and hot fluids erupted into her.

Quickly all over he slumped heavily against her and buried his face on her shoulder, and she sensed his shame and embarrassment on two counts. Suppressing the frustrated grinding of her hips she reached down between them, holding his wet and softening shaft in her hand and squeezing it gently.

‘Mmmm,’ she cooed in his ear, ‘what a big boy you are.’ It was no word of a lie. Even semi-erect he was still a handful. Gary only sniffed. She squeezed and massaged, feeling him slithering against her inner thighs. ‘Tell me about the film,’ she encouraged gently. ‘Tell me,’ she said, guiding the tip of his prick between her swollen lips, masturbating him, feeling him respond, growing and thickening. ‘I won’t tell anyone, I swear.’ She stirred him in a circular motion that pleased and aroused her as much as him, giving herself tantalising glimpses of the orgasm that was still just a little too far out of reach.

‘It was Hugh,’ he said as she cupped one of his buttocks and urged him deeper, letting the clutching sensation of her soft flesh cocoon him. ‘He m-m-made a film of S-S-S-Sophie...’

‘Like this?’ she asked, gently grinding on his now fully erect cock.

‘N-n-no.’ He grunted as he stabbed firmly into her. ‘B-b-b-by herself.’

‘By herself?’ Both Susie’s hands were now clutching his buttocks, fingers digging in as she pulled him deeper.

‘You kn-kn-know what I mean,’ he grunted through clenched teeth, his voice muffled by her hair, each stutter matching a thrust as he began to shunt steadily in and out, sandwiching her against the uncomfortable shelter.

‘Touch... touching herself?’ she managed to ask, the pleasure of the risky coupling making it difficult to concentrate on her mission. ‘Masturbating, you mean?’

‘Yes,’ he grunted, pounding against her with ever increasing vigour.

‘How... how do you know...?’ Her words were punctuated as he shunted against her without compromise.

‘He showed me.’ Like singing or reciting poetry, the rhythm of his thrusting took away the self-consciousness of speaking, so his words were suddenly clear and precise.

‘You? He showed you?’

‘He showed all of us.’

‘Tell me,’ she said grimly, hanging onto him as the climax rose into her tummy.

‘Friday night round at his house.’

‘Who - who was there?’

‘Me, Dave, Gavin, Alan, Peter and Simon.’

‘Six - ahhh - of you...’ she gasped, her breathing ragged as she neared her climax, her breasts straining against his chest.

‘And Hugh,’ he said, panting with the effort as his thrusts lifted her feet almost clear of the ground.

‘And Sophie.’ Her words were almost a wail as she felt her climax coming.

‘No,’ he slowed as he felt the trembling in her body begin, ‘she didn’t - wasn’t meant to know.’

‘But she found out?’

‘Liz told her.’

Mention of the town’s most notorious lesbian and the knowledge that she’d seen this video of her sister and no doubt attempted to sample in real life the delights she’d seen on screen made Susie’s heart sink. But her orgasm was upon her and before she could think further on the discovery she had to sink her mouth against his shoulder to smother the scream of ecstasy that would have risked bringing any late-night walkers scurrying to investigate the source.