If anyone had told me a year ago that I’d ever come back to this town I’d have laughed in their face. I would have laughed hard and would still have been laughing when the dust kicked up by the screeching of my motorbike tyres billowed into their mouths to choke them.
You know what would have been even funnier than that? If someone had said the reason I’d come back would be Courtney. Continue reading “Taking My Own Advice”
If I was less drunk I might have been self-conscious about the headboard smacking off the wall. I might have made an effort to cover Adam’s mouth. And I would definitely have opted to wear a condom.
But, as being drunk goes, I’m probably the worst I’ve ever been, and I’m giving my date such a hard, bareback anal fucking the headboard has been knocking holes into plaster for going on half an hour. Adam’s been hollering ‘Oh God, fuck yes!’ so loudly I wouldn’t have been surprised if the Almighty descended from heaven in corporeal form, just to tell him to shut the fuck up. Continue reading “Awakening the Wet Dream”
I love giving you surprises. People are always saying, Sharon is so sweet, she’s always spoiling Tim. To a certain extent that’s true. I do love to spoil you. I love the look on your face when I hand you something you weren’t expecting, and I love how grateful you always are.
To be honest, I kind of feel bad about it when they say stuff like that. They make me out to be a gem of a woman when what I really am is selfish and cruel. See, I don’t give gifts to you for you. I give you gifts for me because, sometimes, I get whatever I want in return. Like I’m about to right now.
I’m sitting here open thighed at the top of your bed, watching a startled laugh make Gala apples out of your cheeks. You’re drinking me in. Your dazed eyes flick from crotchless knickers, to harness straps, to quarter cup bra and back again. I laugh when the ribbon-tied box you’re carrying misses the dresser and lands with a dull thud on the carpet, but you don’t even notice. Continue reading “Battle of Wills”
I’ve always considered myself to be a reasonable person. I never expect too much of people, never take advantage, and I pride myself on never showing jealousy. All my past partners have considered that a positive, but not you.
No, my rationality is one of the things you love to hate about me. It drives you crazy that I can watch you flirt with other women, that I can watch you dance with other men with nary an eyebrow raised in suspicion. You’ve even taken it as a personal challenge to do something to stir my green-eyed monster, a thing you’re convinced lives within all of us.
And each and every time you’ve failed…until now. Continue reading “The Scent of a Woman”
Every now and again, I don’t hear your alarm. It goes off at 4:45 whenever you work days and I usually grumble quietly, nudging you to try to get you to turn it off quicker. But sometimes I’m so deeply asleep I don’t even stir. You get up, stretch, knock over your roll-on deodorant in the dark and mutter for fuck’s sake while you retrieve it from under the bed.
After your trip to the bathroom you get dressed, jangle your keys and money into your pockets before snuffling out a soft laugh because I’m either lying with my bum in the air, or my arm draped across your bedside table, or with one brave foot jutting out from my cocoon if it’s a chilly morning.
And on those mornings when sleep chooses not to let go of me, I’m oblivious to it all. Continue reading “Almost Cold”
It wouldn’t be right of me to call you my ex, would it? Not because there’s still something between us. Not because there isn’t and I’m in denial. I can’t call you that because we were never together. Yet, for some reason, whenever I take a stroll down the ‘men in my past’ stretch of memory lane, there you are.
Truth be told, it happened so long ago I couldn’t even name the year with any real certainty. But I can see it in my mind like it happened only yesterday. An agreement between two men which required that one deliver an object to the other. I made an offer to help out. To be a go-between. Such an innocent offer on the surface, but one which resulted in something I shouldn’t have (but desperately) wanted; a sanctioned visit directly into what one of the three of us would eventually come to know as enemy territory. Continue reading “A Sanctioned Visit”
I was starting to think that insisting on going for a walk on my own so late at night was a bad idea. Snow had started to fall just as I’d stepped outside. It had come down in short, light sprinklings then, building on the drifts that had fallen over the past week, but now that I was too far from home it was quickly turning into a blizzard.
I could barely see beyond the end of my nose. The flakes were so big I could see their intricate patterns, each one as unique as the last. Beautiful, but given how thin my clothing was, deadly. Continue reading “Most Highly Favoured Lady”
It’s amazing what a person will do for love, isn’t it? Some will up sticks and move to another country. Others will get tattoos that declare ownership in one way or another. But me? Well, last year I took part in a reindeer race – where I was one of the reindeer – for my boyfriend, Kris, and this year?
This year I’m standing in the middle of a round clippy mat in the front room of Nick’s flat wearing nothing but a pair of black stockings and the big sparkly diamond ring that had been glamming up my left hand since last New Year’s Eve. Continue reading “O Come All Ye Faithful”
*Please be aware that this is a sad story, so if you’re feeling fragile maybe come back and read it later*
Of all the houses we looked at when we first decided to live together, this one had been the least like what we thought we wanted. I’d wanted an old doer upper, you’d wanted something newly built, but as soon as we cast our sceptical eyes on this place we knew it was the right one. It isn’t old, nor is it new. Kind of like our love.
I love this room. It’s warm in here. You were right when you said the log burning stove would still heat the place long after it burned out. And I was right when I said a wide, tall Christmas tree would look special in the bay window. Continue reading “Christmas Memories”
*If you haven’t already, you can read part one of this story here*
Sitting at one of the outdoor tables at The Hand That Feeds – the bistro across the road to my office block which is owned by my father-in-law – I listen to my husband’s excited chatter. The family is opening up another three places within the next week, and Simon’s token ‘area manager’ job title is suddenly about to mean something. He’s delighted, and I’m delighted for him.
I really do adore this man. I love listening to him when he his exuberant nature takes over. He talks with his hands, throws his arms wide, his clear blue eyes sparkle like sunlight on water. He raises his voice and bangs the table, his contagious laugh spreading not just to whoever he’s talking to, but to anyone within earshot. Continue reading “Carved in a Heart”