How It All Began Ch. 06

Thank you for all your e-mails and feedback, it is always appreciated. I half wrote this chapter and then ripped it up and started again. I hope you enjoy it.

This one could run and run, I just hope I don't keep you waiting too long for the next instalment.

Enjoy.

The Travelling Man

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With a rushed and deep intake of air, Jack's body slumped on top of her and feeling her heart pounding through his own chest, a soft tender kiss sucked gently on his neck.

"Someone needed that." came a dusky, croaky voice.

"Mmm, I always need that from you." replied Jack.

With his unwound muscles weak from exertion, Jack rolled over and moaned contentedly; Fay propped herself up by her elbows watching Jack's seed leaking from her scarlet, glazed pussy.

Fay rubbed his spunk over her shaved Mons playfully and rolled onto her side admiring the sheen of sweat on Jack's tanned, athletic body; his chest rising and falling as he slowly recovered his composure.

"So, does it feel good to be back?" asked Fay still slightly breathless.

Jack looked across at Fay and smiled, a smile that showed that whilst their life in France was the closest thing to paradise for them, there was no place like home.

"Yeah, feels weird though. Doesn't it?" asked Fay.

Smiling again, Jack's features changed to reflect a mischievousness rather than contentment.

Fay smirked back.

"Well, we had to come back here didn't we?" sniggered Fay.

Jack lifted his arms over his head and clasped the bedrails with his hands.

"Same hotel, same room, same bed. You bet my arse we did." replied Jack to Fay's amusement.

"Mmmm, the memories are certainly, er, inspiring, " added Fay, "and where better to stay?"

As Jack took the time to survey the room, he took a moment to enjoy the opulence of the Ottenshaw Manor's master suite with its adjoining junior suite and it had not changed. Unlike their last visit, the relocation of a tallboy chest blocked access to the connecting doors. It was the constancy of the decor and its taste that brought a reassuring decadence to their short stay, the plain white rococo stucco work provided a subdued statement to the scarlet red and burnt yellow fabrics, the mahogany furniture tasteful in its sympathies with the period but without the excessive frivolity that would disqualify it from being as stylish as it was. Regardless of the cost as it was not inexpensive to stay; but as they had both discussed they had no plans to return for a very long time.

Jack looked to Fay, who was also looking at the ceiling, taking a short moment to recover, on the meeting of their eyes, she leant in to deliver a soft kiss to him.

"Ok, let's be having you," gasped Jack as he flexed his back to stretch out his laboured body and propping himself up by his arms , "so, what do you want to do this evening?"

Fay lifted herself up to sit on the bed and smiled wickedly to Jack as she felt his essence leak from her.

"Well, let me see, " pondered Fay lingering on the last 'e' of the word, "let's have a little fun tonight?"

Jack's curiosity was piqued, he sat up with interest.

"Oh?" asked Jack.

"Seeing as we are revisiting old haunts, let's go to the Marshall tonight." smiled Fay with a lascivious tone to her voice.

"Mmmm, now that sounds good." replied Jack.

"Of course, it won't be quite the same what with Karen moving on but we can make our own fun, right?" asked Fay.

"Quite." returned Jack.

"Let's celebrate!" said Fay gleefully jumping naked on the bed, "Champagne! Champagne!"

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As the summer had turned to early autumn, the time that Jack and Fay had spent in France had confirmed that their lives had moved on and they should cut their ties with England. Having instructed a Solicitor and Estate Agent, their properties had both sold easily enough.

Surprisingly, it had proved a cathartic experience as they both expected to be upset in handing over the keys to their former homes and having their old belongings cleared and taken away. A few mementos that they had kept had been crated up and dispatched to their new home in France.

Now it was final after two months of planning, it was done and in rare moments of melancholy Fay reminded herself she was no longer the office slut with a dubious reputation. As her lips creased to a barely perceptible wry smile, she was still a slut but she was amongst other women and men who appreciated her talents and her man most certainly did. For Fay, Jack was the man she always wanted, in her deepest desires and every day with him. They had experienced much together and just the spark of a pervy thought in a lazy daydream created a yearning for him that she could not resist. From the pit of her stomach, a deep arousal shook her profoundly and in restitution she would do anything for him. At times, to push his boundaries and tempt him, to drive him beyond any rational sense and arouse him to make him to her bidding. Her enjoyment of his body was combined with the knowledge that his will could be shaped, guided and directed to achieve what gratified her. That was the chemistry that kept them together, Jack would do Fay's bidding when she wanted and when she didn't, Jack took her, overwhelmed her and fulfilled her.

Jack reached for her hand as they looked across the busy road leading to the High Street, right now, he felt happy, happy to feel truly alive after being liberated from being just another soulless corporate face amidst a sea of others. What had started as something just for a bit of fun that would never amount to much; it had become a life in another country with a beautiful, vibrant, deeply sexual woman. His new life had soul and whilst Jack did not know what the future held, he would live every day of it as if it was his last.

Dusk gave over to a moonless night and the bright blue neon frontage of the Marshall reflected in the wet puddles on the black tarmac of the High Street, the muffled breakbeats that provided its signature atmosphere could now be heard on their approach just yards down the road.

"Somethings never change." muttered Jack under his breath as Fay squeezed his hand.

"Ok you dirty little pervert, let's see what deviancy we can get up to shall we?" muttered Fay in return.

They found a booth and their Champagne arrived in a mock-pewter bucket complete with gold handles, brimmed with ice clasping the dark glass bottle. Fay looked at the bottle, knowing it to be dark green, the colour under the subdued lighting gave it an air of malevolence. The place was almost brimmed with punters and as the pubs nearby would be winding down from a busy Saturday night as the confluence of late-night partygoers would funnel into the Marshall.

Whilst the town's authoritarians would never approve of its lap dancers, cage dancers, hostesses and clearly sexualised cheesy-sleazy atmosphere, it attracted the bohemians, the wouldn't and couldn't take life seriously crowd; the flirtatious and salacious. Its door policy attracted the attention of the local constabulary on several occasions usually to the detriment of those trying to obtain entry and the egalitarian policy on gender balance in terms of partygoers made it unique in keeping out large groups of men and women only intent on alcoholic oblivion.

The result was a curiously edgy atmosphere, a sexually charged mix of players, the played, affair-seekers, singletons or just the curious wondering what all the fuss was about.

Jack smiled as a change in the playlist from the DJ signalled not just a change in personnel behind the decks but also the party starting proper. Fay looked haughtily at Jack as the lap-dancing girls came through into the bar area and the guys tried to be aloof and look suave and the girls staring trying not to look threatened.

Fay and Jack revelled in the sumptuousness of their attire, the tight bodies scantily dressed, some provocative girls and some more demure. Without doubt, there was something for everyone at the Marshall, slut to secretarial, the girls ruthlessly and effortlessly milked the punters of their cash and as Jack remembered vividly, they milked him of something else.

"I hope are you are not going to get me a dance tonight." Jack mused finishing with a small smutty cackle.

Fay feigned a look of self-righteous probity and to the uninitiated, it would fool them; it didn't fool Jack.

"'Fraid not lover, I need all your strength for myself, "smouldered Fay into his ear, tracing a finger up his thigh, "I'm still wet from this afternoon and you have unfinished business."

Jack smiled knowingly and confidently in the discretion available sat in a booth, the lighting cast deep black shadows and their locale kept them away from the worst of the DJ-inspired wall of sound, best of all, the booths still table service keeping them away from the mass of bodies four deep at the bar.

Whilst the booths were not entirely private, they were the most comfortable place to sit and survey the vista of revellers, cage-dancers and goings on.

As the evening moved to the pace of the louche, sensual funk, Fay and Jack were entertained by the girls glammed up and the guys all too receptive to their charms. Jack loved watching people with Fay as they exchanged knowing looks and whispered snatches of sentences between each other passing comment, either complimentary or not so flattering.

Fay played with Jack's ardour stoking it with hushed provocations, increasing in their overtness as they drained the first bottle, lubricating their desire. Fay squirmed in her burlesque-inspired little black dress, cinched at the waist and shimming as only crushed velvet could, it had tones of bondage as the slightly wired bodice display her décolletage to its best. Fay knew that should she bent over, the bodice would hang down revealing her breasts. She loved to tease in this dress and whilst Jack knew that Fay didn't need to dress sexy to be sexy; he knew that when Fay did, she was an unstoppable force of nature.

Exchanging soft kisses, hands caressing thighs and fingers caressing arms, shoulders and necks; occasionally they caught others looking towards them and a guy would smile or a girl would return a smile. In the pallid, gloomy damp of England, their vivaciousness after almost a year in France, tanned, healthy and happy attracted their share of attention.

"She wants to fuck you." Fay would state as they both looked to her.

"He wants to fuck you." Jack would reply.

"And I would too, take it right up the shitter," Fay said once, making Jack bring up his half-swallowed champagne back into its glass, "I'd have to mind, it'd be the only way I'd feel it in me."

And with the wiggle of her little finger and the despondent reaction of the wannabe Lothario, Jack lost control with tears streaming down his face in laughter.

The evening provided a panoply of laughs, possibilities and temptations, Fay's mind was certainly set on one thing and for Jack, he knew he was along for the ride as her accomplice. With a hint of cool ambivalence, Jack was happy to play along but without Karen to turbo-charge their lust for each other, he was confident that this time at least Fay hadn't set a delectable trap for him.

A clink of their recharged glasses from their second bottle was broken by a tap on Jack's shoulder.

"Hello Jack."

It was enough to stop Jack stone cold dead and from behind him, above his right ear, came the familiar voice again.

"Jack?"

Fay looked up to smile and as Jack looked upon her, he noticed that Fay's smile carried a strange neutrality that he had only seldom seen.

Jack turned his whole body to look in the direction of the voice and whilst Fay did portray an objective neutrality, he looked upon the face slightly behind him and Jack's admiration for Fay was rarely so more keenly felt.

It was Shelly, his ex. On recollecting this memory in time to come, Jack would swear that the DJ music stopped as Jack fought physically not to recoil in shock, the evening had deflated in an instant of a blinking eye. Fay was never jealous, he was never jealous but Shelly was the reason that gave Jack the resolve to change. If Fay was matter, Shelly was anti-matter and everything Fay was not, wholesome, proper, moral and the kind of girl your mother would be buying a new hat for, she was a keeper and she knew it.

With Jack eyes looking upon her while his brain reeled, in his recollection, she looked thinner than he remembered and prettier too. As he shifted his body around properly and fixed his eyes upon hers, they sparkled at him, smiling with them that only she could. Her loosely tressled brunette hair framed her freckled heart-shaped face, she had painted her lips and a thin diamante encrusted choker glistened from her elegant neck. Her body was tightly constrained by a strapless dress that pushed her pert breasts upwards and crushed them tightly in.

As Jack fought to rate her in the flesh compared with his recollection, he would keep his thoughts to himself that she looked incredibly desirable visually but it was only beauty that was skin deep to Jack.

Lost somewhat in what was a familiar sight that looked now, so unfamiliar, Jack's consciousness was screaming at Jack's sub-conscious to say something.

It was trite but engaging enough.

"My God, Shelly, how are you!"

Fay leant forward and as Jack shot a glancing look toward her, he remarked in an instant that the neutrality had given over to intrigue. Fay was indeed curious how this was going to go, noting that their glasses were both full and knowing Shelly's previously volatile demeanour, they might not be empty for long. Admiring Shelly's figure as the object of attraction she was to Fay, she shot a look to Jack whose surprise had given over to a barely concealed weariness of his past.

"I am so good," replied Shelly with a mix of friendliness and frothy superficiality, "I heard you are living in France now."

"I am. Or rather we are, " responded Jack nodding as he smiled, "Shelly? You know Fay?"

Shelly looked to Fay, Jack knew this was the acid test and whilst it had been almost a year now, this was it.

Fay reclined in her seat, stretching out to show herself to Shelly, it was an outrageous act of confidence, a competitive display that was not lost on Jack even at his most dumbstruck. Jack smiled wryly as Fay made this play straight from Tanya's own textbook.

"Of course, Shelly you look fabulous! I love that dress." reciprocated Fay sitting up straight.

"Thanks Fay, France clearly suits you both, you look so tanned." gushed Shelly.

"Thanks Shelly, " replied Fay with an air of synthetic sincerity that only Jack could detect, "would you like to join us? We were just about to get another bottle."

"Oooh Champagne!" squealed Shelly delightedly, "I'd like that, give us a mo."

And with that Shelly turned to her friends tapping one of them on the shoulder, Jack turned his body back to look at Fay incredulously.

"Shit Fay!" hissed Jack under his breath, his cool evaporating, "What are you doing?"

Fay slid her hand up Jack's thigh startling him.

"Relax Jack, I'm cool with it. Besides, just think of the revenge." whispered Fay smiling at him.

As the hostess lingered over the defrosted ice bucket, Jack asked for another bottle.

"Budge up Jack!" exclaimed a clearly excited Shelly.

Jack slid himself around the crescent shaped leather cushions banging his leg on the glass topped table support. With an intake of breath, Jack felt his composure tested and it was Fay's wandering hand on his thigh again targeting his crotch that distracted him enough to forget any malice.

Now it was three charged glasses poured out.

"Salut!" said Shelly giggling at her own wit.

With a clink of glasses, Jack took a larger gulp than Fay and Shelly. Fay sipped hers demurely as did Shelly too. Fay looked at Shelly and from the slight glazing of her eyes, it was clear she was several drinks to the good already.

"Cheers Shelly." replied Fay.

"Aw, Cheers Fay." replied Shelly.

There was a slight pause but nothing too uncomfortable and it was clear to Jack and Fay that Shelly was going to speak first.

"So, what have you guys been doing in France?" inquired Shelly.

Jack's mind was tempted to tell her about sun tanning themselves on naturist beaches and they had no white bits. Jack wanted to tell her how he had fucked Fay's aunt more times that he could remember and had a foursome with a bisexual stripper, her bisexual girlfriend and his bisexual girlfriend and also about the time he'd had full-on group sex with seven horny friends. He just might not mention any of it but just mention that Fay never wore panties on her shaved tight cunt and that she was always wet to the touch. Feeling the exasperation welling up inside him, Jack wanted to tell Shelly that whilst she spitefully admitted to her bisexual side - after they split up - Fay had brought women home after a night out for them both to fuck, even the occasional guy.

Fay's words about revenge circled around his mind like a predatory shark would its prey. Jack looked to Fay and smiled.

"Oh, we've been working hard to settle in," replied Fay, "We're celebrating that we have completed that step, aren't we Jack?"

"Really?" asked Shelly.

"Yes, we've come back to sort out the last of it, " replied Fay smiling, "handed the keys over, thrown stuff out, had some boxed up. All done."

"Wow, you guys," added Shelly, "that's so cool."

And with that Shelly drained her glass....

"So Shelly, what have we been missing?" asked Fay feigning interest that only Jack could detect.

Jack could not brood for long and Fay carried the burden of making conversation to the point that as Jack drained his fifth glass, he just couldn't give a shit anymore and bygones were bygones for a few hours and then she'd be gone. Jack engaged his charming, if mischievous self, adding his own pithy observations and none of them could be described as genteel, all of it barbed and playing up to the respective bitchiness of the women.

Jack's peevishness towards Shelly gave way to something else, it was tinged with pity but a revelation came to him just how much he had grown up in that year. Shelly hadn't changed at all, she was still the same frothy, slightly air-headed ditzy provincial girl and despite her come-to-bed beauty, she hadn't lost her rather one-dimensional superficiality.

Looking over to Fay and as they had spent almost every day together over several months, he only had to look at her for a few moments to detect her air of amused annoyance. Jack's mind conjured images of how a cat would entertain a mouse before the inevitable end or how a spider might ignore a fly until its demise; it amused him.

Fay was certainly reciprocating Shelly's frothy banter and commenting on make-up, nails and hair when that threatened to dry up. As Jack searched for the right word to describe Fay's attitude towards her, Fay was engaging enough to draw out more of Shelly's character and in the times when Shelly was caught off guard, Fay could pick up on her flirting with her.

To lubricate the conversation and to anesthetise Fay's undercurrent of irritation, Jack ordered another bottle of Champagne as they caught up on almost a year's worth of office gossip, news about old acquaintances and friends, for both Fay and Jack enjoying the stupefying warmth from the champagne it felt almost like old times.

Only better than that - because they had found something better than this.

As Shelly recanted another piece of gossip, already six months old which was about someone that Jack might have gone out drinking with once, Shelly was trying hard not to repeat herself or forget anyone's name. It was clear to Jack and Fay that Shelly was beyond tipsy and Fay's sport was to rub Jack's thigh, occasionally placing her hand over his crotch and slowly groping his cock.