Fifty Days of Sin Page 8

  As he tells me he thought I was beautiful, I feel like my heart will burst. I just look into his eyes; I can’t do anything else. And I feel my eyes brim. A single tear starts to trickle down my cheek. This isn’t like me at all. The usual Justine, confident, in control - where has she gone?

  “Oh, Justine,” he says, reaching out and wiping it away softly with his thumb. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. I’m so sorry.” Then he gets out of his chair and all at once we’re both on our feet, and he’s taken me in his arms. We hold each other close, and I look up at him; and then his mouth is on mine, kissing me hard, and our tongues lock together. My hands go to his hair, meshing into it as I pull him harder towards me, and he’s touching my body, my breasts, moving down towards my hips. He’s like a starving man consuming me with a desperate hunger. We kiss and touch like this until he pulls back and I look deep into his eyes again.

  Wordlessly, I take his hand and lead him up the stairs to my bedroom. Then straight away we’re on the bed and he claims my mouth again, kissing me furiously and caressing my breasts. He tears at my clothes, pushing the cardigan off my shoulders and pulling the camisole up over my head and off, throwing it to one side, and his hands are on my breasts again, my nipples hardening through the lacy fabric of my white bra.

  Desperate to touch him too, I try to undo the buttons of his shirt, in so much haste that it takes me longer to unfasten them than it should. But at last his shirt hangs open, revealing a beautifully toned torso. I run my hand over his chest and down over his defined abs, down towards his belt, and start to undo the buckle.

  He leans back, throws off his shirt and helps my fumbling fingers with his belt. Then he pulls off his jeans and socks and I look at him almost in awe, lying next to me in his boxers which only just hide a very large erection. I can’t help but reach out and touch it and the feel of his hardness under my hand is heaven.

  “Oh, Adam.”

  He smiles at me and pulls open the button and zip on my jeans. Pulling them down and off my legs, I’m on my back on the bed now in a white lacy thong and bra. He starts to kiss me again, his firm lean body nearly on top of me, as I touch his erection through his underwear.

  I cry out softly as I feel him gently brush my clitoris through the lacy fabric of my thong. I part my legs and his hand goes between my thighs, stroking and teasing, until I feel him pull at my underwear and start to inch it down over my hips. He’s pulled the thong down now enough to touch my bare flesh underneath and the expert touch of his fingers start to caress me down there, making me moan as he kisses and strokes me. Then he moves and with both hands he pulls the knickers down and off, and as I lean forwards to touch him again he reaches round to unfasten my bra. Then he pulls off his underwear, freeing that beautiful big erection, and we’re both naked together.

  I reach for him again, but he catches my wrist and pushes my hand away. “Slowly,” he says, smiling. Then he deftly flips me onto my front.

  His hand traces a line all the way from the back of my thighs up over my bottom and up my back, making me tingle all the time. And then I feel him start to kiss my neck, gently licking and nibbling, sending oh-so-lovely shivers up and down my spine and triggering an answering tingling in my clitoris. His mouth moves down to my shoulder, still gently using his teeth on me, as his hand strokes the cheeks of my bottom. Slowly, tantalisingly, he inches down my back, with little shivery licks and nips of his teeth as his fingers circle and tease my flesh further down. I moan and move my legs further apart, wanting him to touch me there, between them.

  His hand travels further down, caressing the tops of my thighs now and circling up over my behind, and his mouth is getting lower and lower, down to the base of my spine. As he starts to gently nip and kiss the cheeks of my bottom, his fingers make smaller and smaller circles, inching inexorably towards the place where I really want him to touch me. I open my legs wider still, lifting my hips off the bed to offer myself up to him, aching for his touch and at last his hand makes contact with my sex. I gasp; he carries on touching me in little circles, and then he moves his hand, his mouth going down further to lick where his finger has just been.

  “Oh,” I cry out, and I feel the wetness of his tongue flick out to lick my clitoris. “Oh, Adam.”

  Then he’s turning me over again, and I’m on my back looking up at him. I’m liquid with desire. He touches my clitoris gently with his fingers and I shut my eyes, moaning and surrendering to the sensation. Then the feeling changes and I realise that he’s licking me again, probing with his tongue in my most sensitive spot as he pushes his fingers inside me where I’m wet for him, and expertly moving with just the right pressure of his tongue. I’m halfway to heaven, pushing my hips forward as far as I can, straining and panting and never wanting the feeling to stop, until suddenly my climax overwhelms me, the sweet sensation of orgasm filling me with ecstasy and then I shudder and moan and open my eyes again to see Adam moving back up the bed next to me.

  I can’t speak; all I can do is look into his beautiful face as I get my breath back. His eyes are dark with erotic intent. His mouth comes down on mine again, and I taste my juices on his tongue. I’m touching him again, luxuriating in the feel of the firm muscles of his chest, and then my hand trails down, down to the delicious hardness of his erection.

  And then he’s on top of me, forcing my legs far apart with shocking suddenness. I reach out a hand and open the bedside drawer, pulling out the little box of condoms. Fumbling again, I try to get the foil packets out of the container with my shaking hand. Then Adam takes it from me, and with admirable speed extracts a foil packet, tears it and rolls the sheath onto his rock-hard erection.

  He pauses to look deep into my eyes again, and I stare back up at him, wet and waiting and desperate for him to penetrate me.

  And at last he’s inside me. He thrusts hard, and I cry out as I feel his full impressive length fill me completely. I pull his face down and we kiss desperately as he moves in and out of me, and my hands move down his body to grip his behind as if I can pull him inside me even further. He moves his face away to gaze down at me, and I look back up at him, watching the change in his face as his pleasure increases. Seeing him with his defences completely down just arouses me further.

  Pushing my hips up to meet him, spreading my legs wide as he slams himself into me again and again, I feel complete, as if at last I’ve met the man I need with me, in my life, in my bed, inside me, wanting him to possess me completely, to claim every inch of my body for his own, and then he rams himself into me harder still and I feel him pulse inside me as he reaches his climax, pushing inside hard for the last time as he cries out my name and comes.

  We lie together for a long time, drowsy. I nestle my head on his chest and he strokes my hair, my shoulder, my arm, just revelling in the feeling of touching each other, not needing to speak. It’s bliss; and it’s better, somehow, than it’s been with anyone else before. In the short time that I’ve known him, Adam has become very special to me indeed; I’ve never felt this way.

  And then as I trail my hand lazily across his chest, something inside me freezes as, suddenly, I remember what I was supposed to come clean about before any of this happened.

  I haven’t told him about Michael.

  Nine

  Wednesday, 25 April

  “OKAY, THAT’S ENOUGH FOR TODAY,” I tell the students who are assembled in the lecture hall. As ever, there’s a desperate scramble to pack up papers, pens and phones and grab cardigans and jackets from the backs of chairs. They always seem to be in a desperate rush to be out of the hall in the shortest time possible.

  I pack away my things and watch their retreating backs, allowing my mind to return to thoughts of Adam. I pull my phone out of my bag and check my messages. It’s been on silent – I tell the students to switch off their phones, so it wouldn’t look good for me to get a call in the middle of a lecture – and sure enough, there’s one from Adam. My heart thumps and I open it.

  T
hings are going well with Adam. Really, really well. I was worried sick about telling him that I’d been seeing another man, but I knew I had to for the sake of honesty.

  When I did manage to pluck up the courage to broach the subject, Adam was surprisingly unruffled. He seemed to accept the situation and if it bothered him he didn’t let it show.

  Needless to say, I arranged to see Michael the next day afterwards and told him that our relationship was over. I had not been looking forward to the conversation at all. I’d been expecting him to be hurt, but nothing would have prepared me for how devastated I made him. I knew Michael loved the special kind of relationship we had together, but I didn’t fully grasp just how emotionally attached he had become to me.

  So, breaking up was painful: difficult for Michael to accept, and hard for me to stand firm and resist his entreaties to change my mind. But I knew I had to be strong and tell him straight that we couldn’t see each other any more. In truth, since consummating my relationship with Adam, I really haven’t looked at anyone else, so there was no temptation to give in to Michael’s pleading. Wanting to be monogamous is a new experience for me, and I have to admit that I like it.

  I read Adam’s message: he wants me to come over to his place tonight. I smile and feel a warm glow inside, then hit ‘reply’. I’ve already arranged to meet Kathy, Matt and Simon tonight for a drink, so I agree to go to Adam’s but ask if he wants to come along for a couple of pints first and meet some of my friends. My tummy does a little flip; it will be the first time he’s met any of them.

  Adam’s reply pings back almost immediately. He’s looking forward to it.

  ******

  I’VE AGREED TO MEET ADAM AT the Royal Oak pub, and I turn up a little early, getting there before him, to see Simon waiting for me. He’s only just arrived too, so he buys me a drink – he insists on paying - as he gets his beer. I choose a small glass of red wine, as they serve quite a nice Merlot by the glass here.

  We hardly have time to discuss the typical late April weather – in like a lion, out like a lamb, the old saying goes, and today fits in with that perfectly: mild with a soft breeze and a reddening sky that promises a fair day tomorrow. Then I see Simon looking fixedly over my shoulder and I turn around to see Adam striding through the room towards us. The sight of him lifts my heart. He really is entirely beautiful: his face, his body, his whole being, I could just look at him all day long and be happy.

  Now I’m conjecturing what sort of first impression Simon is getting, and as I glance back at my friend’s face I am surprised to see a strange look pass over his face, before he composes his features and schools himself to greet Adam politely. I don’t know what to read into that look. Could it have been envy?

  “Hi, Justine,” he says, putting an arm round me.

  “Hi. This is Simon. Simon, this is Adam.”

  Adam greets him and shakes his outstretched hand. Simon apologises that we’ve already bought some drinks. Adam waves away his offer to buy him a pint and says he’ll get some in when my other friends arrive. We find a table big enough for all of us.

  Adam is just starting to answer Simon’s question on what he does for a living when Kathy and Matt arrive, along with Matt’s girlfriend Kelly. “Adam!” exclaims Matt. “Had no idea you were Justine’s new bloke. Small world!”

  Adam looks pointedly at his watch. “Six thirty? I hope that discretionary trust documentation is waiting on my desk...”

  “Bugger, I didn’t realise I’d see you here,” he says with an exaggerated look of comical guilt. “Don’t tell me you need it first thing tomorrow? I don’t fancy going in at half past five in the morning.”

  “Six will do,” replies Adam genially. “You were just asking about my job, weren’t you, Simon? Well, Matt can tell you.”

  “Yeah, basically he’s the office slave-driver,” jokes Matt. “Unfortunately he’s my boss, so I have to put up with him eight hours a day, five days a week. Or, in fact, twelve hours a day six days a week, if Adam has his way.”

  “Ah, but you can get Justine to persuade him to go easy on you now,” suggests Simon. “Anyway, hi, Kathy, hi, Kelly, nice to see you.”

  “Nice to meet you,” says Adam. “I’ve heard lots about you from Justine, Kathy. But not much about you from Matt, Kelly. I discourage my subordinates from having personal conversations at work. It ruins their concentration.”

  “Oh, right,” says Kelly, unsure whether he’s joking or not. Then he winks at her, and she realises it’s okay to laugh.

  “So what the fuck is it that you do anyway?” asks Simon. “Adam was about to tell me, but then you turned up and apparently I’m supposed to already know all about your job, Matt. Don’t you do some kind of office thing?”

  “Yeah, some kind of office thing, how eloquently you’ve put it. In fact that’s the precise wording on my employment contract.”

  “They work at Grantham and James,” Kathy tells Simon. “You know, the big accountancy firm. In the legal department. Honestly, Simon, you have a memory like a sieve.”

  “Not really. When you put things through a sieve you keep the things you want to and lose the things you don’t. My brain isn’t quite like that. I can tell you what Piers Gaveston wore at Edward the Second’s coronation. But I can’t tell you what I had for dinner three days ago.”

  “But do you really need to remember what you had for dinner three days ago?” I ask him.

  “No, I suppose not,” he grins. “But it would be useful to remember other things that I keep forgetting too. Like people’s names, and what they do for a living.”

  “Isn’t it useful to remember what Piers Whats-his-name wore at whatever coronation it was you were talking about?” asks Kelly.

  “No, not really. Except possibly when I’m watching University Challenge. I don’t use my historical knowledge any more now in my job.”

  “What do you do, Simon?” asks Adam.

  “God knows. Can’t remember what people do for a living, can I?”

  Even Kelly realises she should laugh at this. Then he tells Adam he’s a freelance journalist. Simon enjoys his job, but the remuneration isn’t ideal: he’s fairly low paid, and his income is unreliable, which is why he’s eking out a half pint of Heineken lager until someone else buys a drink.

  Adam gets up to buy a round for everyone and Simon asks for a pint and a packet of crisps. While Adam is at the bar, Matt leans over conspiratorially to me and whispers loudly, “Bloody hell, Justine, you’ve fallen on your feet, haven’t you?”

  I am a bit surprised, but I reply quietly with a smile, “Yes, he’s lovely, isn’t he?”

  “I don’t mean that,” he goes on. “Loaded. Absolutely loaded.”

  “Really?” My eyebrows shoot up. This is the first I’ve heard about it.

  “Don’t you know?” asks Matt as all the others around the table listen interestedly.

  “Matt, do you really think you should be telling me this?” I ask, looking around at Adam. He’s at the bar and looks like he’s out of earshot, but I don’t want to be talking about him behind his back, or hearing things that are a bit personal.

  “It’s not a secret that all the directors at Grantham and James are on six-figure packages,” he replies. “Or that Adam’s on track to for partner within six months – he’ll be the youngest partner they’ve ever made.”

  I’m taken aback. I hadn’t thought about Adam’s income at all. I suppose I assumed he was comfortable. But his bank balance really doesn’t matter to me.

  “I had no idea, Matt, and I don’t think it’s really any of my business unless he wants to tell me.”

  “Just thought you’d already know,” he says, holding his hands up. “I thought he’d have a flash car and live in a massive house. With a butler,” he adds as a joke.

  “I haven’t even seen his house yet.” Of course, he’s right about the car, but I keep quiet about that. “Anyway, can we change the subject? Kathy, how is your mum now? It’s a couple of months since she
had that surgical procedure, isn’t it?”

  Adam returns with his sparkling water and the others’ drinks as we talk about the pre-cancerous mole that Kathy’s mum had removed. I breathe a sigh of relief that he didn’t hear us talking about him. I don’t suppose he’d have been particularly offended, but I don’t want to be rude discussing his private affairs behind his back. That said, I’m wondering now what his home will be like, after Matt has built up my expectations. I stifle a small smile to myself as the comical mental picture of Adam being waited on by a butler flashes into my imagination.

  “That looks like a secret smile,” Adam whispers into my ear as the others carry on their conversation. “Now I’m curious about what’s going on in your head.”

  I turn to look into his eyes. It’s obvious that he thinks I’m having dirty thoughts about him, and this triggers a completely different memory. In my mind’s eye, I see Adam looking down at me as he enters me, his full length thrusting hard inside me as I grip his behind with my hands and pull him in harder, faster, loving the feeling and wanting more.