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Slippery Slope

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She pulled her into the supply closet and locked the door. For a few breathless seconds, it felt like Kate would kiss her - her head spun as she saw sparks crackle in her grey eyes - but instead, she exhaled and leaned against the piles of colored construction paper.

“So?” she said. She wasn’t one to mince words.

She touched her cheek. There was an unfamiliar mania in her eyes that had never darkened her eyes before Tom. It perplexed her, but worry had eclipsed it months before. 

“Yes,” she said, nodding slowly. “I’ll do it.”

It was then that Kate gave herself permission to relax. Her shoulders dropped, and she listed into her arms.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,”  said, hugging her tight. She remained rigid, taking in the scent of cigarettes and jasmine in her dark blond hair. She felt warmth on her shoulder, and when she met Kate’s gaze, it swam.

“Why the fuck do you even stay with him, after Sasha?” she said. “This shouldn’t even be a-” her mouth snapped shut. It was no use pushing it, or her. She knew too well how deeply complex certain relationships could become. She was an expat herself. An American in Scotland, but for all the wrong reasons.

Kate exhaled. Her limbs trembled the slightest bit, and she couldn’t tell whether it was anxiety, or relief.

“I have to know,” she said, nodding. “Whether it’s gonnae be a thing with him, before we marry.” She looked down at the solitary stone on her important finger.

“You know he will. I know he will. Have you ever seen his eyes when he thinks no one’s looking?”

Kate gave her a bruised look. “Have you … been looking?”

She shrugged. There was something about him. She sensed it the moment they met at the local 4 months  before - he wanted to come off as sweet, but there was an air of bitter to him. Something that anyone wise would spit out, lizard brain buzzing poison.

After her falling out with Sasha, she was completely bemused why Kate would insist on giving him another chance. They were all friends, and she still spoke to Sasha, but whenever she would broach the subject of Tom, the mischievous shine in her eye would go flat. Her mouth would smile and her posture would remain poised, but the eyes … they would dim. The conversations would inevitably go to Kate, and how much she missed her and how sorry she was, but Kate wouldn’t have any of it so she stopped trying to play mediator.

She took her hands, squeezing the fingers together hard enough to feel the flesh and bone move. Her engagement ring was small, but it was painfully fine. Bile filled her mouth. Is that why she stayed? Because he was a doctor? Was she that shallow?

“If we do, will you drop him?”

Kate’s eyes danced to the left, then back to her. “If it goes public, I can’t avoid it, can I? Couldn’t stand the humiliation.”

She stared at Kate. “You know, I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t adore you?” she said. 

“You’re my best mate.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” she said.

“I know,” she said, and laced her fingers through hers. “I know. Give me time.”

“You didn’t need time before Tom.”

They both held their breath. Kate looked away. Tom often made derogatory little comments about Kate’s ‘sexual confusion’, shaming her for her once open bisexuality. He said he didn’t believe in it, and cited his stern country beginnings in a village called Kirkdarroch in the ass end of Scotland. It was disgusting. But Kate would hold him tighter, and laugh it off.

Kate laughed, but she was scared. She didn’t show it - it always came off as irritation - but she had lain cheek by jowl with the emotion long enough to see through to the truth. What she couldn’t figure out is why. Tom was a garden variety asshole, a rube with an inferiority complex trying to make it in the big city. He was always very well put together, but no amount of darning, spit, and polish could hide the fraying collars, or the hole in his dress shoes.

She had dealt with far more formidable men. If she could successfully hide her disgust, it was in the bag. 

“Wear that dress I like,” Kate said, running her fingers through her hair. She was jonesing for a smoke.

“You like all of my dresses,” she said, smiling.

“That’s because you look spectacular in everything. The yellow one, I mean. The one that nips in at the knee to show off your arse.”

She nodded, sighed.

“See you around, luvvie. I’ve got to finish planning,” Kate said, planted a quick kiss on her lips, and left.

She sucked her lower lip, and followed.

After class, Kate burst into her office and threw something on her desk. She looked up from a pile of student evaluations.

“I knew you’d still be here. Workaholic,” she said, and smiled at her. The corners of her eyes were catlike with anxiety. Her eyes drifted to the desk. It was a bullet shaped tube.

“Lipstick?” she said, sticking her pen in her bun.

“Wear it. Tonight, I mean.” She pointed at it, and cocked her head to the side and smiled. It was strange body language, for her.

She picked it up and pulled off the cap. It was a rich, bombshell red. She whistled.

“It’s not really my style,” she said, smelling it. “Too rockabilly reject for me. Also, don’t you think he’ll notice it’s not me? We’ve all spent enough time together. If I give a whiff of tryhard, he might not bite.”

Kate’s face moved through several emotions, and settled on a smile. “Please. You trust me, right?”

“I do,” she said.

“Just … wear it.” She hugged herself and stood in front of her desk for a few seconds, quietly, then walked out. In a few seconds, she came back in. “And I’ll be by for you at 7. Be ready.” She winked and left.

She slowly closed the folder she was working on, and put her head down.

They were sat around Kate’s small round table after dinner, laughing at a story from Kate’s uni days.

“-I ended that night sleeping in Eddie’s car. I nearly froze my baws off,” Kate said, shaking her head. “Took a full two days to warm up again.”

Tom’s face did not reflect the mirth everyone else was demonstrating. His eyes were on Kate’s face, unmoving.

“I didn’t know you got into … that sort of thing,” he said finally. The other couple there, Frankie and Tara, stopped laughing.

“Getting wrecked and losing the keys while my roommate was too busy shaggin’ blind drunk to open up? It happens to the best of us in uni,” Tara said, crossing her legs in defiance.

“Never been much of a drinker, myself,” Tom said, shrugging. “It’s a little … sloppy, to be peshed in public,” he said, pointedly eyeballing the full glass of wine in front of her. “Anyway, I wouldn’t be much of a doctor if I was pickling my brain every weekend, would I?”

“I suppose not,”  Kate said. “But other people who aren’t doctors can have some fun once in a while, right?” she said, rising to pour herself more red. 

“Other people can do whatever they please,” Tom said smoothly. “Other people don’t affect me.”

She smiled wide, but left the glass of wine at the counter, untouched. Frank looked at Tara, and they seemed to pop up together.

“Thank you so much for dinner, Katie,” Tara said, giving her a tight hug. “I’ve got an early day tomorrow, so I can’t stay.”

“But, I have dessert. Lemon mousse cake,” she said, pouting.

“Sounds delicious, but I’m watching what I eat, remember, love. I couldn’t even if I wanted.”

“Not the worst idea,” Tom said, standing and taking his plate to the sink. Everyone looked at him, serious. “It’s a step in the right direction to watch what you eat, especially after you get to a certain age. It physiologically gets harder to keep it off.”

Kate’s smile blinked, then came back on. Frank’s jaw worked. Tara slid her hand in his, calming him. “You’ve got better willpower than I, darling, and it shows,” Kate said, gripping Tara’s waist. “Good night.”

“See you,” she said, kissed her cheek, and leaned in.

“Take care of yourself,” she whispered, and squeezed her hand. “And call me. We don’t see each other much anymore.”

“I will. Love you,” she said, kissing her cheek. They walked out, and Kate turned and smiled.

“Come on, Wendy. We can have a slice of that cake,” she said, and winked at her. Tom leaned against the counter, watching.

“Let me help you with the dishes first,” she said, standing from the table, wine in hand.

“Nonsense. You’re a guest in her home. She can tidy up. Take your wine into the den,” he said, and walked into the other room. She gave Kate a pained look. Kate nodded.

When she went into the den, Tom was already on the sofa, legs crossed. “Please. Sit,” he said, patting the place beside him. She smiled and sat, taking a sip of her wine.

“I’ve always thought that the wise drink white,” he said, nodding at her hand.

“I don’t know about all that - doesn’t red wine have tannins or something that make it healthy? I just avoid it so my teeth don’t turn purple.”

He gave her a lingering look. In the golden light of Kate’s faux Tiffany lamp, his eyes seemed to glow. They were almost animalian … but she couldn’t deny the fact he was hot. What irked her is, he knew it too. He licked his lower lip.

“Wendy the American,” he said. His hand seemed to move independently, caressing the arm of the sofa with evocative grace. Her mouth went dry. She took a burning gulp of wine. “Where do you come from, in America?”

“Nowhere you’ve ever seen in the stereotypical American films,” she said, crossing her legs. The cloth of her skirt rustled, and rode up above her bare knees. He made a point to look.

“Come from the wrong side of the tracks, do you?” he said, blinking slowly.

“I’ve always hated that term,” she said, leaning forward to put down her glass - and giving him an enticing look at her breasts. “Like, what does it even mean, anyway?”

“It means poor,” he said glibly.

“I know what it means,” she said, shaking her head in irritation. He gave her a sympathetic look.

“I certainly didn’t mean to offend,” he said. He touched her arm - just a split second of contact. She sighed and licked her painted lips. The colored wax felt heavy on them, and tasted chemical. She wondered why Kate insisted. Tom dared to lean in.

“I suppose I might come from similar circumstances. Small village, not a lot of opportunities,” he said, staring at her mouth. His lips parted.

“A village in Scotland is not the same as Southeast Baltimore,” she said, her eyes wide. “You can believe that.”

“And how was it, then?” he said. He put his arm in the back of the sofa. “Danger lurking ‘round every corner?”

“Didn’t even have to go out in my case,” she said, and sipped. His eyes changed for a second, then went back to lazy seduction.

“Daddy fancy the drink too much?” he said, emoting sympathy. He was very, very good - it would be undecipherable as anything else to someone who hadn’t grown up with a stonehearted manipulator. She let her shoulders drop a few centimeters, and blinked quickly.

She had learned well.

“No. He was a teetotaler,” she said, shaking the glass. “He believes only sinners and whores drink.” She took a sip.

“And how did you end up falling so far from grace?” he said, giving her a slow look from her exposed legs, to her breasts, to her face.

“It’s a couple of glasses of wine, not adultery,” she said, evincing defensiveness.

“Funny you should mention adultery, and not theft, or murder … or covetousness.” His eyes lingered. Her insides shook. 

He isn’t as bad as her father. Not close. Not nearly. 

She exhaled. “You know the commandments?” she said.

“Like I said, I grew up in the country. Also, my mom had a thing for … unavailable men.”

“The minister?” she said.

“God,” he said smoothly, and took the glass of wine from her hand. “I don’t really have time for fairy tales.”

“You’re a man of science,” she said, daring to meet his gaze. Now her knees trembled. She squeezed them still. “Maybe I should check on Kate?” she said, trying to stand up. He put his hand on her knee. Her first, visceral reaction was to hiss, but she disguised it with a giggle. She let herself fall back to sitting.

“She’s a grown woman. A few dishes won’t hurt her,” he said. 

“Helping out is the polite thing to do,” she said.

“Is that what daddy taught you, in his wisdom?” he said. She smiled and shook her head. “Don’t worry about Kate. She’s not put out. It’s not like she slaved over a hot fob for three hours - it was takeaway.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, biting her lip. She darted forward to grab the glass of wine again, but he put his hand on her wrist. 

“A woman like you doesn’t need intoxicants,” he said. “Also, alcohol makes you wrinkle before your time, as does smoking. You wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty face.” He spread his thighs, conscious of how it looked in his tight jeans. 

She resisted rolling her eyes. The rush of disdain offset the other emotions slowly rising from her subconscious.

“You know, most women wouldn’t much appreciate your tone,” she said. “We can do what we like nowadays.”

“And we wonder why the world’s going to hell,” he said, but the edges of his luminous eyes crinkled with mirth. “Ho ho. A joke.”

“Uhuh,” she said. “Most misogynists try to hide their true colors with humor. It’s not slick.”

“That’s not the leg I limp on. I am not a misogynist.”

“Than what would you call what you just said?”

“Concern. Maybe I know that, deep down, certain women want to be taken care of. Doted on...” he said. He canted his hips forward. She couldn’t help but watch. It was a deliberate act, and beautiful. “...Possessed,” he finished. 

“Possessed?” she said before she could stop herself. He searched her eyes, and seemed satisfied at the reaction to his words.

“Yes,” he said, and looked away. His profile was imperfectly lovely. She wondered whether his lips would be cold.”Does it need defining?” he said, turning back to her and giving her an intense gaze. It jumpstarted her heart.

“No,” she said simply. 

“Good,” he said, cocking his head to the side. His eyes softened to something akin to kindness.”How’d you end up here? It’s a long way from where you’re from.”

“It was honestly a snap decision,” she said. “I was sick of where I was, so I closed my eyes and pointed to somewhere on a map. It was here. I got on a plane 16 hours later and haven’t looked back since.”

He seemed interested at her confession. “And your dad? Your mam? Do you have siblings, or anyone who cares about you in the US?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes you’ve got to do crazy things for your peace of mind,” she said.

He started to stroke the nubbly sofa cushion behind her head - a slow, rhythmic three finger stroke that made her belly flutter. 

“Is moving to a much smaller country where they speak the same language all that crazy, though?” he said, smiling.

“For the first two years of being here, it didn’t sound like it was the same language,” she said, and laughed. “I was fucking perplexed pretty much 24/7. I’d surmise what people were trying to say by their expressions, which wasn’t smart, since it was mostly irritation with me.” 

He curled forward, laughing with his whole body. It was contagious, and soon they were both holding their stomachs. Every time she looked at him, they’d get started again. In the back of her mind, she wondered what Kate was thinking. She felt a hot bolt of shame, then pushed it aside. Why shame?

“You’re alright for an American, Wendy,” he said, dabbing at the corner of his eyes. His skin was flushed with merriment, which only made him look better. His lips were a pink so hot it made her mouth water.

Hot. His kiss wouldn’t be cold. Couldn’t be.

She tried to reach for the wine a third time, and he smoothly grabbed the goblet and stood up. “I’m gonna check in on Kate - I’ll drop this in the sink for you,” he said, and walked to the kitchen. In a few seconds, she heard Kate exploding, and she ran into the kitchen. She held a now empty bottle of white, which he was trying to take away.

“Oh feck off. It’s my party, my house and I can have a bloody drink if I wanna,” she said, throwing the bottle into the trash. “I might even finish the bottle of red,” she said, and hiccuped. Her eyes burned. 

It’s begun.

Kate wobbled a little on her feet, giving Tom a defiant gaze that dissolved into misery as she darted to the sink and retched. Tom sighed and turned to her.

“As ever, she drank too much, too quick,” he said, eyeing the trash with disgust. Kate curled over the sink, and they heard a splash. 

“Oops,” she said, slurring a little. “Haven’ tasted secondhand white in a while,” she said, and giggled. She ran the water and splashed it on her face, then shook herself off like a pup. Her mascara ran in black rivulets down her cheeks.

“How much did you drink before?” Tom said, taking her face in his hands and looking in her eyes.

“I might’ve had a drop or two before the party. You know, for courage,” she said, and let out a whooping laugh.

“Did you drink with her?” Tom asked Wendy with a searing intensity that made her shiver.

“No, not really,” she said, honestly. Katie was acting well. But she was scared. Soon, it would be time for her act. 

“I told you not to drink,” he said, his jaw working with irritation. “You’re absolutely flying.”

“Woosh!” she said, grabbing his waist and trying to kiss him. He turned away, his lips pressed together.

“Put me to bed, Tommy,” she said, tugging at his shirt. She looked like a melted clown. Her heart contracted with love for Kate. 

“But, you’ve got a guest, remember?” he said. Kate squinted at her.

“She can take a bus, can’t she?” she said, then turned to her. “Or a cab. It's fine. She's a grownup.”

“Did you drive her here?” he said.

“I did. She doesn’t have a license,” Kate said. 

Tom looked at her, then back at Kate. “I’m putting you to bed, and taking Wendy home,” he said, gripping her waist and guiding her to the bedroom. Kate bounced in, ripped off her dress and launched herself into bed.

Wendy stood at the door. “I can find my way home, Tom. It’s no bother. It’s not even that late,” she said. 

He brought a towel and handed it to Kate. She wiped her face savagely and fell back to the pillows, sighing.

"No! That’s unacceptable. You shouldn’t have to be standing in the cold rain because Kate couldn’t keep her head for one night,” he said pointedly. Kate reached out to him, and he slapped her hand away and pulled the quilt up above her breasts.

“Are you sure?” she said, backing into the dark hallway.

“Certain,” he said, giving her a quick smile. “Give me five minutes, and we can be on our way. We’ll take my car.”

“That old thing? You sure it’ll make it?” Kate said, and chuffed. The top of Tom’s cheeks reddened, but his expression didn’t change.

“It gets me where I need to go. I don’t have a well-off mam and da to buy me a new car and pay my flat every month,” he said.

“Nope,” Kate said, and turned on her side. “Bye, Wendy. Hold on to your knickers-” she said, her voice rising with mirth. Tom swatted her bottom, and guided them both out of the bedroom.

“Don't mind her. Get your coat and meet me in the foyer. I’ll be out in a tick.”

As she left the apartment and down the two flights of stairs, she couldn’t keep her heart rate under control. She loved Kate, but she knew she wasn’t perfect. When she was trapped, she could be borderline toxic, and downright mean- but it didn’t change the fact that Tom was …

She stared at her reflection on the plate glass door of the apartment building.

He was what? Controlling? Bossy? Taciturn?


She shook her head like a punch drunk boxer. Pretty, he called her. The thought made her get her bearings back. She hated the term. Only middle school boys and bitches called grown women pretty. She could keep the upper hand. Stay frosty, regardless of what would happen. She was good at goodbyes-

He startled her back into the present. “Lost in thought?” he said.

“I suppose,” she said, looking worried.

“Shall we go?” he said, and opened the door for her. She walked out and waited for him to guide her to his car. As he walked to the curb, she looked behind her. Kate’s bedroom curtain trembled. She smiled. 

Time to shine.

He opened the passenger door of his beat-up SUV and held it for her, gallantly standing in traffic as he closed the door. He ran across and got in. 

“So, where to?” he said as he pulled into the road.

“Not far. It’s a 10 minute drive at this time,” she said. She told him the address.

“Oh yeah. You’ll be safe at home in no time,” he said. 

They rode in silence for a couple of minutes.

“I apologize. About Kate,” he said, and adjusted the rearview mirror.

“I think that’s for her to decide,” she said. Her arms were crossed tight. 

“Decide what?” he said, looking at her.

“Whether she’s sorry for getting drunk at her own party,” she said. “In her own home.”

“It was rude, and thoughtless,” he insisted, turning into her street. “And I’m sorry you had to go through it, at least.”

“She does like to overdo it sometimes,” she said softly. Tom gave her a more lingering look.

“You’ve noticed,” he said as he parked on the curb. “I won’t varnish it - I worry about her.”

“She’s just stressed out. She doesn’t like her job, or this city, or-” she stopped and shrugged. “Different people deal differently.”

“It’s not fun when they hurt other people when ‘not dealing’,” he said, taking off his seatbelt and getting out to open her door. She stepped out, and he smiled at her. “It was lovely to see you again, anyway.” He held out his hand. She smiled and took it, and he pumped her hand comically. “So … goodnight. I suppose it’s back to chez Kate and a cold shower.” He let his words hang in the air.

“Goodnight, then,” she said, biting her lip and giving him a sideways glance. Men like him ate that shit up.

“Let me walk you to the door. This isn’t the best neighborhood,” he said, walking beside her.

She laughed. “It’s way better than were I came up,” she said. “It’s idyllic.”

“Fuck. Are you sure you didn’t grow up in Sarajevo, then?” he said, opening the front door of the apartment building. They walked inside and he kept going, confident.

“There certainly are some areas that look like warzones,” she said, and slid her key into the door.

“Just … look?” he said, looking deep in her eyes. Her fiction about her father. She had him.

She opened her door and stepped inside, she leaned into him as she took off her high heels.

“Thank you … for the ride,” she said, looking up at him.

“It was nothing,” he said. His gaze skidded over her red mouth, and the tops of her breasts. She let him take a good look.

“Yet another night of wine and contemplation,” she said, waving her hand at her dark apartment.

“You don’t need it,” he said, giving her a crooked grin.

“The wine?” she said.

“Neither,” he said. 

“So, no thinking?” she said, walking into her apartment. The door was open. She looked behind her, and smiled.

“Sometimes, it’s nice,” he said, stepping in, and closing the door.

She walked surely into her kitchen.

“Then what do you suggest-” she said airily, but he grabbed her waist and kissed the air out of her lungs.

“Tom-!” she said when she could take a breath. She pushed at him weakly as his lips moved to her neck, kissing hungrily. “Wait-”

“Do you really want me to stop?” he said, and pushed her against the sink. He took her hand and guided it to the growing bulge in his jeans. She whimpered and caressed, looking up at him. His lips were pale magenta with her lip paint, which somehow only added to his loveliness. “That’s what I thought.”

He kissed her again, his hands restless in her hair. His tongue snaked its way into her mouth, and she moaned with surprise. He was sweet. Of all things, sweet. She tried to pull away to catch her breath, but his hand turned to a fist in her hair and he leaned in, crushing her against the counter. She wrapped her arms around his waist and got on tiptoes, sliding her tongue into his mouth. At that, he pulled back.

“Bold,” he said, and smiled.

“How?” Her hand moved back between his legs, where he throbbed. "I can be so much bolder."

He gripped her hair painfully and sucked his teeth. “Not if I don’t say.”

“Oh?” she said, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding her hand inside. She exhaled as she took in his girth. “Oh my god. Doctor...” she said breathlessly.

He gave her a slow grin. His grip loosened in her hair, and he rolled his hips forward.

“If you endure the exam, you just might get a lolly,” he said, sure of himself.

Her smile faded, and she blushed. “I don’t - I can’t do this,” she said, stepping back. “You’re with Kate.”

“I’m with you, now,” he said, touching her cheek. 

She shook her head, but let him grip her waist. “It’s not a good idea.”

He rubbed his lower lip against the tender area right below her ear. “If I were to get on my knees in this kitchen, lift up your skirt and bury my tongue in your pussy-” she shivered and gripped the back of his shirt “-and lick, and lick-” she cried out as his hand went up the inside of her thigh and slid into her panties- “and suck your sweetness until you explode in my mouth-”

She fell into him as his fingers found her clit and caressed, bested. She was soaking wet, and he grunted as he slid two fingers inside her.

“Tight,” he said, and kissed her again. His tongue went deep in her mouth, swirling and finding hers. She surprised herself by responding, and rolling her hips into his slow, rhythmic trolling between her folds. His fingers were delicious, deliberate - his gestures were not false advertising.

Her greed was clouding her mind. He ground into her, pressing his hard cock into her hip as he began to finger her expertly, milking her g-spot while rubbing his thumb on her clit.

“Wait - Tom -” she said, and took a whooping breath into his mouth as pleasure exploded in her lower belly. He knew. How did he know? She would come, burst and betray her trust sweet hot Kate sweet hot fuck -

“Sweet Jesus!” she groaned, and bucked as she came, convulsing on his fingers. He looked at her and licked his lips, his rhythm steady. 

“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” he said. “But I can go now …” he brought his fingers to his mouth to taste her. “Or stay and do what I whispered in your ear.” He ghosted his lips against her trembling mouth. “That was nothing,” he said, gripping her pussy, hard. She curled into him, exhaling. “I can make you feel so much more.”

Chapter Text

Her thighs squeezed around his hand. She was still twitching.

“More?” she said softly. Her eyes glowed with lust.

He nodded, pinching her swollen clit between his index and middle finger. “I’ll fuck the contemplation right out of you,” he said. “Savage, beautiful women like you shouldn’t have to think of anything except pleasure.”

Her eyes opened in surprise to meet his gaze. “Now I’m beautiful.”

“You always were,” he said, and kissed her with convincing passion. He still throbbed at her hip.

“And what of pretty and quiet?” she asked, daring to grip his cock through his underwear. He whimpered so sweetly it made her nearly lose strength in her knees.

“I certainly hope you will be neither, tonight,” he said.

“You seem very sure of yourself,” she said. She tried to sound flirtatious, but her voice trembled tellingly.

“Should I not be?” he said, starting to unzip her dress.

“I might be done. I came, didn’t I?” she said.

“On my fingers. For me, a woman isn’t done until she comes” - he pulled down the top of her dress to expose her breasts - “hard, and repeatedly on my cock.” She sighed as his eager, hot mouth clamped on one of her nipples and sucked. Part of her wanted to roll her eyes at his comment. But her body was thrumming. That orgasm was just a taster, because she ached more now than she had before.

He dropped to his knees and turned her around to face the sink as his overheated mouth worked its way up and up-

She cried out when he pulled on her hips and kissed her, open mouthed, licking slow circles up her swollen slit to her clit.

“FUCK!” she said, slapping the counter. How was his tongue so delicious? Heat crawled up her spine as she had a moment of clarity. He was an asshole. A jerk. Kate wanting out. She was helping Kate out-

“Grind your pussy on me,” he said into her flesh, and his tongue muscled its way into her cunt. She curled into herself and she let out a low groan that made him slap her ass and redouble his efforts.

It was good. Really good. Delightful-

He withdrew and moved her so one of her legs were over his shoulder. He was slim, but he easily carried her weight as he pushed her against the counter and buried his whole face in her pussy.

She was floating. Literally. She moved slowly up and down as he sucked her clit, grunting with the effort. A comeslick finger slid into her ass. She whimpered and gripped his hair as he worked both holes with finger and tongue. She was almost ready to come again, and the thought startled her enough to buck.

“Fuck. Gorgeous,” he growled, and started to do a steady, silky lap on her clit that made her want to cry. Her toes curled as she felt herself beginning to unravel-

“Mmmph. Yeah. Don’t stop-” 

He let her down with a graceful move and stood up, already pulling his pants down.

“But-” she started, but it came out pitiably weak. He smiled down at her and pinched both of her nipples painfully. She gasped, but arched toward his touch.

“You’re right on the edge, aren’t you?” he said, and rubbed his pussywet beard on her neck. “You want to come in my mouth this time, hmm?”

She whimpered, and nodded.

“Say it,” he said, and licked the sweat from her neck and placed her hand on his cock. The cotton was slick with precum. She gasped and opened her eyes. He smiled at her, guiding her hand to stroke him, wetting her palm, then back to her lips. “Taste how much I want to fuck you.”

She licked his palm hungrily, and then he slid each finger in her mouth to suck, watching her. She tried to reach into his underwear, but he grabbed her wrist and shook his head.

“Tell me,” he said. He guided her index finger to circle the throbbing tip of his cock, pressed against the waistband. Her finger glided easily on the wet cotton. Her lips trembled. His eyes - they were different, now. They glowed with life. He had her, and gloried in it. She could stop things right now, stomp on his hubris, but … she didn’t want to. He was beautiful, this way. He licked her top lip. “Hmmm?”

She slowly slid to her knees and looked up at him. “This.” She nuzzled his bulge, openmouthed, licking his wetness from the cloth. He tipped up her chin to look at her, and she caressed his downy legs, eyes foggy with desire.

“Say please,” he said, and lowered his waistband. His cock popped out, slick, hard, and fragrant. 

Her thoughts fought her body. Please? She’d never had to say please to any lover, male or female. He put his hand on the top of her head, and rubbed the glossy head of his cock on her lips. When she darted forward to suck, he slapped her mouth.

Slapped. Her lips stung. 

“Jerk,” she said, but he just giggled and slid his thumb in her mouth, confident.

“You’re still on your knees,”  he whispered, and guided his cock to her mouth. She opened, but he just traced her lower lip, searing her with his heat, and went no further. Again, she tried to take him into her mouth. And again, he slapped - this time, harder. 

She groaned. “You’re an asshole.”

“Then get up. Kick me out,” he said, stroking himself for her gaze. Her pussy twitched with greed. He rolled his hips toward her. She caressed up his thighs, to his hips. His muscles moved liquidly underneath his flesh. She wanted to feel his hips pounding against hers. Wanted to feel him stretch and slap and pinch and bite-

He pulled her off, firmly, hissing. She bit the top of his thigh in her passion. She closed her eyes and sighed. 

“Please,” she said softly. He slid his thumb into her mouth, and she sucked. 

“Look at me,” he said, rubbing her spit all over her swollen lips. It made her throb - he was lubing her lips for his cock. She opened her eyes. “Please what?”

“I wanna suck your cock,” she said. Her cheeks burned, but her mouth watered.

“I bet that felt good, didn’t it? To beg,” he said. She nodded, staring up at him.

“No,” he said breezily, and stepped back. Her jaw dropped. 


“No,” he said, shaking his head. Where’s your bedroom?”

She was still sitting on her haunches. Anger bloomed in her temples. How dare he … humiliate, then deny her?

“Fuck you!” she growled, and rose. She picked up her discarded dress. “I’m not playing this game.” She tried to get past him, but he grabbed her arm. She moaned.

“You’re not done yet,” he said, and pulled her against him. “You so weak you fold when someone pushes back?”

She was confused. The question didn’t match the mood, but it sounded sincere. 

“Say it again,” he said. It sounded more like entreaty than an order.

“Fuck you, Tom. Get the fuck out of my house,” she hissed, and surprised herself by spitting in his face. His eyes widened, and he let her go to wipe it off. 

“There’s the uppity American cunt I knew you were,” he said, giving her a defiant glance. She launched herself at him, fists flying, but he grabbed her arms easily and pressed against her, his cock slippery and hot against the crack of her ass. The sensation calmed her quickly. He panted in her ear. His fingers dug into her arms painfully, but it only made her nipples taut again. “That’s good.” He slid his cock between her thighs, right beneath her pussy and started to move. “You’re an entitled bitch, but you want it, hmmm?”

She wanted to cry. He was stretching her emotions thin, but it only served to expose her.

“Let me suck it. Please,” she said, whispering.

“Earn it, then,” he said, and bent her over. 

“Wait-” she said. “A condom-”

“You think I’m gonna come in you?” he said, gripping her neck. His cock pressed against her opening, and she saw black dots in her vision. “Do you want to stop, and get one?” His other hand played with her clit. Her toes curled on the tile.

Her lips parted. “No,” she said.

“Good,” he said, and thrust into her so hard she gasped. He gripped her hips and pounded into her, grunting behind her. She was silent for a few beats, but she arched, grabbing his hips. She was so aroused every inch of him felt delicious, and she knew it wouldn’t be long until she wet him with another-

He slapped her hands off his hips and sucked her neck from the back. Their sex sounded obscene, desperate, wet slapping and grunting. Sweat beaded her bare torso, and her tits jiggled hard with each thrust. She hadn’t been fucked like this in years - fearlessly. Almost, painful with lust … she was gonna come again. She shivered and moved his hand to her clit again.

“Please. Rub,” she said, and he complied, pressing her body against his, rocking her, and tugging her nipple.

“Come,” he said, whispering hotly in her ear. She made a noise between a moan and a growl. He stopped and withdrew so quickly she nearly fell to the floor.

“No!” she said, but it didn’t come out angry. It was desperate.

“You wanted to fuck without a condom,” he said, backing out of the kitchen. “I need a breather. Take me to your bed.”

She stared at him. Her thighs were trembling and wet, and her pussy throbbed so hard she couldn’t think. She should kick him out. Tell Kate he was inside her. That’s what this was about, right? Commonplace infidelity. He took off his shirt slowly. She knew he was fully aware of his grace, but it didn’t stop her from whimpering as he threw it aside and traced a finger down his flat belly, to his wet, hard cock, then gripped it. “Bed. Now.”

She fell into his arms, then pulled him into her bedroom. Her bed was unmade, and there was a pile of clothes on the chair beside it. He wrinkled his nose.

“You need to be taught some basic life skills,” he said, pushing her on the bed. 

“Sorry-” she surprised herself by apologizing, but she didn’t want him to stop. Not until the heat in her belly dissipated.

“Good,” he said, pulled her on all fours, and slid into her again. He made her buck with every thrust, and gripped her hips painfully

“Grab your headboard,” he said, and she did it without a word. He got on his knees behind her and his hands went over hers and he started again. The position made it so he was even deeper, and it was so delicious her eyes were wet with emotion. Maybe, she understood, now. Maybe she-

Again, he pulled out, and threw himself on the bed, panting. 

“Nonono,” she said, straddling him, but he pushed her off his cock firmly. “Suck it.” He pulled her head toward him, and started to pump up into her eager mouth. He was musky and slick, and he throbbed insistently against her lips. She gently massaged his balls as she sucked, and he grunted his approval. He coaxed more of himself into her mouth with each thrust until she was fighting the urge to gag, but still she wanted more. He caressed her clit as she sucked, and she leaned into his touch.

“Want fingers,” she said, and took him into her mouth again.

“So needy you forgot how to speak English?” he said, but he slid three fingers inside her, but didn’t move. 

“Hmmmph,” she said in his flesh, but bounced on them. She licked him from base to tip, rubbing her hot lips on him. He looked big, deliciously big from where she was. He cast a long shadow across her face and down her body. She wanted to feel him everywhere. She leaned up and rubbed her tits against him.

“I didn’t say you could-” he grunted as she squeezed them together and began to titfuck him. He gripped a handful of her hair and thrust into it. “Ah, fuck! that’s lovely,” he said, and let her. She tried to lick the head of his cock as it peeked out from between her tits, but he was too eager.

“I’ll paint your tits with my come if you keep going,” he said, teeth bared.

“Yes,” she said, looking up at him. “Do it.”

“What about your greedy little pussy? You don’t want anymore?” he said, and pushed up until the tip of his cock touched her lips.

“Yes,” she said. “Please don’t stop ... this time.”

He smiled and pulled her up and onto him. She sighed as he slid easily inside her. She got goosebumps it felt so good. He caressed her belly, then grabbed her hips.

“Ride it like you want it,” he growled, and gave her ass a stinging slap. She started to bounce on him immediately, mouth open. He looked up at her with baleful eyes that began to narrow into pleasure as she ground circles into him. 

“Oh fuck-” he said, and pushed her off again. She cursed, but watched his cock twitch slowly several times, and come dripped from the tip. She smiled and leaned forward to lick, but he slapped her away. She growled and slapped him back fully in the face, then tried to roll out of bed but he pulled her into him. Again, she pounded his chest with balled up fists, but now, there were actual tears of frustration in her eyes.

“You selfish twat, rotten fucking tease-” she said, and tried to buck free, but he held her fast.

“You get what I give you,” he said, rubbing his cock against her seam. “I could go into the bathroom right and finish in my hand, alone. You can’t stop me.”

“Fucker!” she said. 

He nudged her clit with the head of his cock, and chuckled. “You wish. Greedy whore.”

She bucked hard, and got free. Her eyes were on fire, and she wanted to rip his face off. 

He stood fast, unafraid. “You’re fucking your best mate’s boyfriend. What else could you be-” She threw herself on him, slapping him.

“You don’t know me, Tom. You have no idea what-”

He cut her off. “You wanted me from the moment you lay eyes on me. More than Kate. And you know why,” he said. His grip on her wrists was viselike.


“Yes, you do,” he said, rolling on top of her, holding her wrists above her head. Again, his cock pressed against her opening. She whimpered, losing strength. ”Admit you’re a faithless slut, and I will make you come.”

She stared up at him, head spinning. Did he know? How did he know? Her lower lip quivered. The head of his cock stretched her, and she was so needy she twitched around him like an eager mouth.

“I hate you,” she said, and exhaled. His forehead pressed against hers. His eyes took up her whole vision. Her soul shattered. “Fine. Yes.”

“Good to know,” he said, and tried to roll off her, but she gripped him with her legs and flipped him on his back. 

“No more games,” she said, sinking onto him, holding his wrists at his sides. 

“But I thought that’s all this was,” he said, eyes flashing, teeth bared. They stared at each other for a few breathless seconds, then she started to fuck him, hard, digging her fingertips into his chest. She didn’t care about anything but his cock. Not about propriety, or sincerity. She wanted to get off on him.

She wanted him. He panted and moaned underneath her, and watched her blossom. She was a bloodflower among daisies. Like Kate. Like Sasha. Her special brand of pain was something he knew he needed to harvest slowly because it was precious. She thought she could best him, because she’d been hurt. But she had no idea about pain. 


He grabbed her, pulled her to him and started to fuck up into her. Her grunts just made it harder to endure, but he closed his eyes and focused. She would come. He would make her come, not only then, but many times. 

And both Kate, and her, would endure it.

The thought excited him nearly as much as her twitching, soaked cunt, and he bit down on her shoulder to center himself. She cried out and bucked quicker into him. She was ready. He rolled onto her, gripped her thighs and pounded into her, and she curled into herself and soaked his cock with her orgasm. Watching her buck and whine was better than morphine, and he kept going, deep and fast, and she came again, this time arching and gripping her sheets, face flushed with pleasure.

“You wanted it. Now take it-” he fell on top of her and rocked her whole body with his passion, and all she could do is put her hands on his hips and mewl into his ear. She was in the good place, he knew. Beyond orgasm, and her soul was his.

The accomplishment made him grunt with pleasure, and he pulled out and painted both their bellies with his come, spurt after spurt, and she caressed his back and cooed, thankful.

She lay on her back, staring at him as he dressed to go. He had showered for 10 minutes, and she had barely moved. Her inner thighs were still red with friction, and her pussy was glossy swollen with their sex.

“Tom,” she said, reaching out to him. 

He pulled off the towel around his hips and dried his hair. Her pupils dilated at the sight of him. 


She stared at him, and rolled on her side. What she felt she couldn’t put in words. The whiff of danger made her heart race, but it was also comforting. Old hat.

He gave her an appreciative look. She was gentled up with pleasure. He chuckled to himself as he dressed. Women were such weak, sensual creatures.  A good dicking or five, and they’d hand you their savings account number and passcode. He twitched in the v of his fly. She saw, and responded.

“Stay,” she said. His eyes lingered on her body. Lovely. Bruised. And now his. 

“No,” he said. “I have to go back to Kate.”

She sighed. He sat on the bed and caressed the tangled hair from her cheek.

“You got what you wanted, right?” he said.

She looked up at him. There was a halo to him, a new beauty that danced around him like motes of dusk in a beam of light.

“No,” she said honestly. 

He leaned into her, taking in the scent of her sex and sweat. “Good.” He rose and took a final look at himself in the full length mirror by her bed. She sat up, looking at him as he looked at himself. Tall. Slim. Lovely.

“I will call you. Don’t make me wait again,” he said, buckling his belt, and leaving.

They met in a bustling coffeeshop. The happy noise seemed almost inappropriate.

Kate sat down, purse pressed to her belly. “He told me what happened,” she said. 

“It’s what you wanted, right?” Wendy said, trying to take her hand.

“For you to go crazy, and nearly sexually assault him? No, it wasn’t,” she said, shaking her head emphatically.

“Sexually assault - what are you going on about? What did he say?”

“He didn’t have to say anything. I saw the … marks on him. You bit him.” Her lips were tense with anger.

She sat back, perplexed. Did it matter, as long as she had her out?

“Maybe,” she said, shrugging. “So? Are you out?” She realized she sounded a bit too eager. She held her breath.

Kate looked into the middle distance. She saw a small love bite on her base of her neck, near her clavicle. Something burned unpleasantly in her esophagus.

“Tell me,” Wendy said.

When Kate looked back at her, her eyes had changed. Instead of anger, there was naked hurt. It ripped the lid off her confused emotions, and she burst into tears.

“You know now, don’t you?” Kate said. She didn’t try to make her stop crying, or touch her. She couldn’t look at her. She shook her head. “It was a bad idea.”

“I did it for you - for us,” Wendy said, sniffling. Kate rolled her eyes.

“You seduced him for me. You fucked him for you,” she hissed.

“What else did you think would happen?” Wendy said, desperate. “Did you expect him to say no?

“I didn’t expect anything,” she said. “He got what he wanted,” she said, biting her lip.

Realization exploded like a bomb in her brain.

What?” her voice shook with indignation.

“He got what he wanted,” Kate said slowly, looking at her. Her face was serene, but her hands trembled. 

“But, wasn’t it for - didn’t you want me to-” she couldn’t grasp the thread of her thoughts.

Tom wanted her. Kate wanted her, or did she? Was it all for him, the desperation and agony?

“He wouldn’t leave me be. He wanted you. Wouldn’t stop talking about it. I just wanted my peace of mind.”

“He wanted me?” she said, in disbelief.

“To fuck you. Once. Seduce you. That’s why we became closer. Why I let you in,” she said. She was stark white, but her cheeks were red.

“Tell me that’s a lie, Kate,” she said in horror.

“Truth,” she said. “The friendship. It was all part of the-” she swallowed the last word, along with a sob. Fantasy. It was true. It was all a fantasy. The taste of something else. Something new. Freedom. But Tom was clever. He had rotted out her self-esteem with pleasure and promises, and she couldn’t leave. She had tried before, two times, after Sasha, and both felt like slow death. She needed him more than she needed freedom. Even now, after Wendy.

Now she knew. Like Sasha. He planted himself inside their bellies and now they burned for him. Sometimes she smelled Sasha’s perfume on him when he came to see her - loud and brassy as she was, and so unlike her white flowers. Oddly, when he fell on her, hard with power, she would welcome it, if only for the secondhand love. She missed her, desperately, but Tom refused to let her see Sasha. So, she relented.

Now, he took Wendy. Sweet, fragile, clever Wendy, who smelled of osmathus. It broke her, but she too blinded by love to see the danger she was in. Now, it was too late.

“You know,” she said softly, and stood up. “We’re leaving, so I’ve put in my resignation at the school. We’re going to marry in four months, and then moving to the country, for his practice. I’ve blocked your number.” She tried to walk away, but Wendy pulled her back and kissed her full on the mouth.

“Please. I’m sorry. I don’t care. Don’t go,” she said, hugging her. “Tell me it’s for him, and not true, in your heart. Please.” She pressed her forehead to hers. Kate met her gaze, and the tears fell freely. “Please.” Wendy’s voice trembled. Kate squeezed her, once, and gave her a barely imperceptible nod.

“Goodbye,” she said, and ran out of the shop, and into Tom’s waiting car.

“Did you tell her?” he said as he pulled out into traffic, his lovely face apathetic. "How did she react?"

Kate burst into howling sobs.

2 years later


Kate was crying harder than the baby. She paced back and forth in the den, gently bouncing the little girl, but she wouldn’t stop crying.

“Please, honey. Stop! You’re not hurting are you? Are you hurting somewhere?” she said with an edge of desperation in her voice. “Tell mummy. Show me.”

“She can’t speak, Kate,” he said, taking his firstborn in his arms. Maddeningly, she stopped crying. She cooed into his shoulder.

“How do you do that?” she said. “Bloody how?”

“Shhh,” he said, bouncing her. “Don’t swear around her.”

“She doesn’t fucking know what I’m saying, does she?” she said, and sank to the sofa. She was mottled with misery, and her grey eyes were rimmed red with lack of sleep.

“I think it’s time to admit you need help. I will have Dr. Ellis check you for PPD,” he said.

“Fuck that. I’m not depressed, I’m exhausted and in pain,” she said, and tears dripped off her chin.

“Still in pain?” he said, cradling the 3 month old baby in his arms.

“My breasts hurt. My back hurts. My fanny hurts. My soul hurts,” she said, rocking back and forth and looking out the picture window at the forest. Tom moved them to a village far from the city that she knew so he could raise his children the same way his parents raised him. But she missed the noise and the smells and the excitement. She missed her old job. She missed her friends.

“I’ll give you something for that, if you like,” he said, nuzzling the top of the baby’s head. She stared up at him. He was so different, with the baby. Gentle in a way that he had never deigned to be with her. It made her feel even more miserable. He kissed the now sleeping child and put her in her crib. “Wait - maybe not. You’re breastfeeding.”

“Maybe I can pump enough to feed her, then take it?” she said, putting her hand on his chest. He shook her touch off.

“Nah. It’s not a good idea,” he said, and walked around her and out of the room. She sat on the rocking chair, her head in her hands. She didn’t even want children. She told him that, a thousand times, and every time he said okay until he decided he wanted to play country doctor in the bloody arse end of the world where she didn’t know anyone but his mam, who followed him around like a beat puppy too. Not even his mam was immune.

She didn’t even know how she got pregnant. They could set a clock by her cycle, and her birth control had not failed her before-

“Alright, I’m gone,” he said, whispering so as not to wake the baby. “I’m off to the farm house.”

“Baby, why can’t you ask her to come here, sometimes? I could use the help,” she said, wiping her face. Her misery at his distant behavior was eclipsed by relief. Without him there, she could exist without feeling like a constant failure. Not a good girlfriend. Not a good wife. A terrible housekeeper. And now, an inept mother.

“I’ll, uh, talk to her about it,” he said, hefting his overnight bag. “Remember, the landline’s down, so the phone doesn’t work. And there’s no mobile service.” He was in a hurry to go before the sun set. He turned to her and gave her a long, scrutinizing look. “She’s asleep now. Take a bath.”

“Okay,” she said, too tired to fight.

“And tidy up the den before I get in tomorrow.” He blew her a kiss and walked out. She watched him jog to the car and get in. And, for the first time in a week, she smiled.

He waited until he was a few miles away before he called.

“Tommy,” a breathy voice said. He smiled. His cock was already throbbing for her. It had been a week, and he could barely stand it in the cottage - Kate was not acclimating well to motherhood. He would have to be firm with her.

Firm. He squeezed his cock over his jeans.

“You know only you get away with calling me that,” he said merrily. “Not even my mam ever calls me that.”

“Then it’s ours alone,” she said. “You on your way?”

“I’ll be there in just over an hour,” he said. “Kate was being challenging.” There were a few beats of silence, and a deep breath. “Wendy?”

She cleared her throat. “Yes. Okay. Everything will be ready when you get here.”

“Screw dinner. Be nude and wet for me when I arrive,” he said, and hung up.

“Okay,” she said. He didn’t hear. He rarely did.