tagIllustratedA Week to Remember Ch. 02

A Week to Remember Ch. 02

byChris Cross©

Monday

I didn't have to get up for work the next day. I'd secured a good job through my industrial placement last year, and would start working in Leeds City centre the following Monday. I had the rest of the week to myself and was glad about it; it gave me time to get my head together and to chill out and relax. I had a lie in and it was 10.30 by the time I got up. I stumbled into the bathroom on my floor and showered, the hot water waking me up and making me feel better. This would be the first day of the next chapter in my life, I told myself. Young, free, single and hopefully going places - I managing my first non-bitter smile for many hours. I opened the window a little wider to let out the warm air and clear the mirror, then shaved and rinsed the bristles down the sink.

As I stepped onto landing, wearing my jogging bottoms with toiletry bag in hand and with wet towel slung over my shoulder, I heard a door open as Sheila came out from her room, wearing an off the shoulder t-shirt and shorts. She briefly took in the fact I was only half dressed and then smiled.

"How did your weekend with Sam go? Did you have fun?" To my amazement, I felt myself filling up and was concerned I'd start to bawl! As I felt my throat tighten I swallowed and managed

"Not really, She. Long story." Which it wasn't, but I wanted to get away and compose myself. "If you're in later, I'll tell you all about it." I looked down at myself and back up at her again, managing a smile. "After I've got dressed?" Sheila frowned slightly; looking concerned at the tone of my voice I guess. Then she brightened and lifted her hand to waggle several envelopes at me.

"I'm off to the post office and then to the corner shop. I'll be back in half an hour. I'll give you a knock then. D' you want anything fetching?" I thanked her and said I didn't.

Sheila trotted off downstairs to the front door. I went back into my room and got dressed, making a coffee and pouring a glass of orange juice, wondering what I ought to do next. You see, it was like this. Sheila and I got on well together. Really well. She'd a boyfriend of sorts up until recently. Last week in fact. He was called Stuart and they'd met on the bus Sheila caught to work. They'd got to know each other a little and had started dating. I thought Stuart was alright, but he didn't seem to have too much by way of a personality. Sheila had grumbled to me that he wasn't making any real moves on her and that she wanted him to make the first one. I suggested that if she knew what she wanted Sheila should take the bull by the horns and make the move for him. It was really sexy when a girl made the move for you.

I also thought that if I had Sheila wanting to have sex with me, then I'd be making moves bloody quickly. But then again, perhaps I did have that and wouldn't (couldn't?) do anything about it because I'd been seeing Sam. Agh, see what I mean? The fact Sam had been stringing me along the past few months had meant I'd missed out on any chance of having something with Sheila. We flirted gently and I'd been tempted to make a move many times, but hadn't. I had been dating Sam then and if there's one thing I don't do; I don't cheat on girlfriends.

Anyway, Sheila had seemed to decide to take my advice, as last week Stuart was still in her room when I turned out the lights and hit the sack. He'd usually been gone by about 10.30 on his previous visits and now it was past midnight. My bed was on the opposite side of the same wall as Sheila's, if the wall wasn't there, we could have reached over and touched each other. I could've rearranged the room if I wanted to move my bed elsewhere, but there was something about sleeping that close to Sheila that turned me on. Sheila knew full well about how close together our beds were, having been in my room many times, but never commented on it and hadn't moved her bed away from the wall either. Interesting, perhaps?

Less than ten minutes after I'd gone to bed, I could just hear the faint creak of bedsprings as Sheila got into hers. And then another one as Stu joined her. They were both talking quietly, Sheila more so than Stuart. I felt a low burst of envy and strained my ears to listen to what happened, eager to discover if Sheila moaned loudly or sighed softly during sex. Their whispers died down. It seemed to have gone quiet. I soon heard Stuart saying

"Oh, your hair's so soft. Your hair's so soft." over and over. Sheila seemed silent. There were no gasps or creaking bedsprings. I idly wondered if she was giving him a blowjob, her small mouth wrapped around his meat, head rocking back and forth as his fingers ran through her short dark hair and her blue eyes fixed intently on his.

The thought gave me a boner and I actually pressed my ear to the wall to listen (and don't tell me you've never eavesdropped on someone having sex, c'mon, we've all done. Haven't we?). I heard nothing else though. No sound from Stu that he was being pleasured. Then I could just make out Sheila saying something quietly. And that was it. After another minute of silence I lay back on my pillow, still listening. There didn't seem to be any sounds of passion going on, unless they were both being really quiet about it. I fell asleep wondering how far Stu had got.

I didn't ask anything the next day. Stu was gone by the time I got up and Sheila was out too. When I saw her that evening, she didn't seem to be in the best of moods and I guessed the previous evening hadn't gone down too well (pun intended). Sheila confided in Ruth, who then naturally told Adele, who went on to tell me; that Stu was useless in bed, didn't know what to do and hadn't even fondled Sheila's boobs. All he could do was run his fingers through her hair and repeat himself. Unsatisfied, Sheila had pretty much rolled over to go to sleep, said 'good night' and that was that. She had no intention of seeing him again. I thought it was a little harsh. If she'd really wanted him to do stuff, she could've told him what to do, given him some encouragement. But I don't know, it sounded like Sheila liked a man who took charge in bed and perhaps Stu was just a hopeless case. A small and mean part of me felt glad that they hadn't got it on. Sounds nasty, I know; but in my wildest dreams it left a possibility of my getting closer to her.

So, being faithful to my 'girlfriend' had backfired on me. I'd had several chances to get close to some girl at a club or pub over the past months and hadn't taken them, much to my friend's (especially Adele's) near exasperation. I'd only known Sheila and Adele for three months, but we'd regularly go out together and have a good time. Adele and I took great pleasure in comparing notes on the girls we fancied in whatever venue we were in. It was fun to letch over a girl with another girl and interesting to see what we both liked in a woman. Adele knew I liked Sheila and was sure she liked me too; encouraging me on more than one occasion to 'go for it.' I liked Adele a lot. We had a lot in common in our tastes - music, comedy, books and women! We had a relaxed friendship and Adele had commented more than once that it was nice to be with a bloke who didn't seem intimidated or act awkwardly around her.

By the time I came out of this reverie, I'd finished my coffee and juice. I refilled the kettle, waiting for Sheila to return. There was a knock on my door and I swiftly opened it. Sheila stood there smiling prettily. I noticed she'd changed into her cut-off denim shorts. Now she knew I thought they looked sexy (I'd commented once during a good flirt) but then again, it was a hot day. Soon, the two of us had a steaming mug of coffee each and were sat chatting on my sofa. In broad strokes I told Sheila what had happened yesterday and she pulled a face saying she thought Sam was bonkers and calling her a 'dumb bitch', before turning pink and apologising. I laughed it off and said not to worry. As far as I was concerned, Sam and I were over.

Sheila and I talked some more about her new job and where she was moving to, as I stole furtive looks at her sexy, bare legs. The clock made it to noon and we agreed to go out and get some lunch together. I held the front door open and watched Sheila trot down the stairs, full of life with breasts jiggling wildly under her t-shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra and her nipples strained against the flimsy cotton. I marvelled at how Stu could have failed to respond so badly when invited into her bed. Just watching her coming downstairs started to give me a hard-on. If only I could have such a chance. At the café, Sheila insisted on paying to help 'cheer me up' and I began to wonder more about what might happen tonight.

All five of us living at number 23 were going out round town and then to a club to give Sheila a farewell 'do'. She wasn't leaving until Wednesday, but wanted to allow a full day between going out and moving to make sure she'd recovered enough to finish packing properly and sorting things out. But Sheila leaned in so close at the café when we chatted, her eyes bright and shining. I was so sure she was interested in me but did I want to risk our friendship in what little time was left? Or was that the exact reason I should make a move, before she was gone? I resolved to see how tonight went and if the opportunity presented itself to try and get closer to her.

Sheila spent some time that afternoon packing whilst I had a wander around town and treated myself to a new shirt ready for going out that night. The afternoon gave way to early evening and at half past seven, Adele, Neil, Ruth and Sheila all met up in my room. Sheila was wearing a tight fitting and backless L.B.D with black tights (or stockings?) and high heels. Her breasts were pushed together into an impressive cleavage and with her naked upper back and arms I thought she looked mouth watering. I looked at the zipper on her dress and marvelled how she'd only be wearing her heels, knickers and nylons if I undid the zip and slid the dress down from her shoulders. We all trooped out, with me fantasising about undressing Sheila and running my hands all over her nubile, naked body.

The night went well. We got on fine as a group, even Ruth and I could be pleasant to each other when there were more than just the two of us about. She looked good tonight with her dirty blonde hair fixed up and wearing a tight red dress. We were in Yates's; a popular place to visit just before moving on to the clubs. It was packed in there. Neil was chatting animatedly with Adele who was looking great in tight black trousers, boots and a low-cut sparkly top that showed off her big boobs. Ruth was with her boyfriend (who'd joined us about an hour ago) and Sheila with several of her friends who'd come out with us. We were all several drinks worse for wear and ready to move on for a good dance. The prices in the club were so high that it was wise to have most of the alcohol you wanted to drink before you got there, or you could end up paying almost double the usual going rate.

I was at the bar talking with one of Sheila's friends, Belinda. I'd only met her once or twice before, but I'd sure as hell remembered her! Belle was almost as tall as me, standing six foot easily, with dark, dark skin and long, tightly braided hair. Belle had a fantastic figure with large breasts, a shapely bum and long, well toned legs and arms. Just think Destiny's Child and you'll have the right picture, because looks wise, she would fit right in with Beyonce and co. Belle was wearing a black satin jacket, terracotta-coloured mini skirt and vest top, with fishnet tights and boots. She seemed to be just a little fed up that night and I tried to cheer her up by cracking jokes and making a bit of an arse of myself. More than one guy gave me dirty looks, thinking that the two of us were a couple and I managed to make her laugh and smile before we rejoined the others. Sheila gave me a warm smile as I handed her a drink and I decided then (the Dutch courage no doubt helping) that I would make a move at the club. Really, what did I have to lose? And to be honest, after the amount we were drinking that night, all our inhibitions would be lowered.

We all stayed in Yates's for another twenty minutes or so, downing a last round of oddly flavoured vodka (I had a gorgeous shot of pear drop flavour, Adele had mint choc, Sheila Dime Bar flavour and Neil black pepper!!) and then met outside to walk as a group to the club. The air was quite cool and most of the girls pulled their coats tight to them. I was happy with my new shirt, but was beginning to wish I'd brought my leather jacket with me. Still, at least I wouldn't have to pay to stash it in the cloakroom at the club. All told there were about a dozen of us by then and Sheila had had a text to say another of her friends was going to meet us at the club. I was glad she was having a good last night out on the town.

We got to the club and joined the queue. It looked like we'd be in before eleven and so not have to pay full entrance fee. A group of lads passing by looked over at Sheila, Belle and their girlfriends and wolf whistled; with a bit of playful catcalling. I didn't quite catch what they said due to chatting with Neil. Then we were at the front of the queue and paying to go in. We agreed to all meet up by the bar on the upper dance floor and separated to go to the cloakroom, toilet and bar. Ruth and Sheila chatted happily on their way to the toilets, Belle was slow to make a move towards anywhere and I thought she looked a little down again. However ten minutes later we were all piled up at the bat chatting and waiting to be served. Sheila was a bit giggly already and I pondered when to try and make a move on her, deciding the dancefloor would be my best bet.

For just over an hour or so, everyone was having a good time. It had gone midnight and I was thinking I'd try and get closer to Sheila around one o'clock. I'd been to the toilet downstairs and as I came out, I saw Belle stood just outside the 'Ladies'. She had that vague look of unhappiness again. Curious to see if she was alright and eager to practise my flirting on her at the same time; I went over. As she saw me Belle gave a weak smile and said 'Hi.' I said I thought she looked a bit glum, and asked was everything alright? Belle sucked in a breath; (my eyes flicked down to her cleavage as her bust swelled so much I thought her top might give under the strain) blew it out through her mouth and said.

"Yes and no. Aw, it doesn't matter; you'll think I'm daft." Before I'd thought about what I was going to say in reply I'd said

"Well, maybe, but I also think you look gorgeous tonight, so if there's something bothering you, why don't you give me a try. Problem shared, problem halved and all that." With another weak smile, Belle said

"I'm just a bit weary about getting wolf whistles and smart-arse comments about how I look all the time. Some guys tonight just seem to be real jerks." I remembered the catcalling outside the club earlier and replied

"Yes, but if you can, see it as a compliment. You're good looking and ..." I glanced up and down, to take in her height and figure, and then returned my eyes to look at hers

"Well, you're a big girl. You're going to be noticed." Oh no. what had I said wrong? Belle's eyelids brimmed slightly.

"That's the problem!" she blurted. I was a little confused and worried about what I'd said to upset her.

"Hey, hey I'm sorry." I moved right up to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"C'mon over here." We moved away from the female traffic by the toilets and to the other side of an archway away from the lower dancefloor and opposite the main entrance. A couple were snogging in the opposite corner, but the area was otherwise empty. Belle dabbed at her eyes with a tissue from her handbag, saying she was sorry. I told her not to be and asked her what was wrong.

"I'm big." She blurted out. I frowned back at her.

"Belle, you're tall. You've got a big chest, a curvy figure. You're nicely toned. You look great. You're not big as in overweight. I don't think there's an ounce of fat on you!" Belle managed another smile.

"I know, but I'm going to go to fat. It's a worry for black girls. I mean, my mum's fat, my older sister's piled on weight over the last five years and I'm much taller than either of them, so what's going to happen to me as I get older? I wish I were more petite, I wouldn't get so much attention from idiots and could stop worrying about my weight." she paused for a moment, looked intently at me, then blurted

"I worry about it so much I've thought about stopping eating for a while or even making myself sick." she stopped at what must have been the look of dismay on my face.

"No, no, don't worry. I haven't. I know that'd mean an eating disorder and that I had real problems, but I just worry so much. Aw, God, why am I troubling you with all this now?" her eyes started to brim with tears.

My mind raced. Talk about bitter irony. Sheila and Adele had separately said to me that they wished they were both taller than they were, Sheila specifically mentioned Belle more than once, saying she wished she had her figure and stature. And here was Belle worrying so much and wishing for a body more like Sheila's. But that's been the way with a lot of girls I've known. If they've got long, straight hair; they wish it had more volume and body. Girls with long hair full of body wish it was straighter. The 'grass is always greener...' I guess. I decided to try and cheer Belle up enough to get back with the others. And besides, I thought what I'd decided to say was the truth.

"Belle, really; you're worrying too much. Look, I know girls who wish they had a body like yours. And even if you were more petite, I reckon you'd still be getting a lot of attention. It's not just your height, or the size of your boobs. You're pretty. You've got nice hair. Big brown eyes. Lovely smile. You've a nice personality, you're easy to talk to - you'd still be attracting attention. But yeah, you are tall. You can't change that. You've got a fabulous body and as long as you eat sensibly and get your exercise in, there's no good reason why you can't keep it. I mean, all this is in the future. You're in the here and now, with friends on a night out. And. You. Look. Great. It's a sad fact of life that as many idiots as decent guys are gonna find you attractive, but, to worry so much when you're looking so good..." I trailed off, smiling at her and shaking my head slightly.

Belle was looking at me slightly oddly. I hoped I hadn't said anything else that'd upset her and was aware I'd been away from Sheila for about fifteen minutes now. What if someone else was making a move on her? She did look great and was well up to party tonight. I was surprised as Belle suddenly leaned forwards and planted a kiss on my cheek.

"Sorry." she mumbled, blowing her nose on the tissue." That was really sweet and yes, I guess you're right." I smiled back at her.

"Hey, don't be sorry." Sheila was suddenly just a little less in my thoughts than a few seconds ago, but I still wanted to get back to her. I pointed upstairs. "C'mon then, we should go and join the others. I'll buy you a drink. Let's dance your worries away, huh?" Belle gave another smile and nodded.

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byChris Cross© 25 comments/ 1124292 views/ 9 favorites

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