Stay Another Day

"So you've had two boyfriends and three lovers before. Was one lover a one-nighter?"

"No," Cat replied. "It's like this... Boyfriend and lover number one was Kyle. I guess you could say we popped each other's cherry. We dated for about a year. It was nothing more than kids having fun, and then we drifted apart.

After Kyle, I dated Christopher, who was boyfriend and lover number two. I really loved him; well, I thought I did at the time. We were at the same college. He seemed an all round great guy for a few months, but then... the lies... the let downs. You understand?"

"Did he hurt you badly?"

"It was bad for a while. He was sweet, sexy and caring, well, for a period he was. I was pretty cut up. You realize?

"Yes I do Cat. I've been there too. So then, I'm in suspense, who was lover number three?"

"Well, um, ok, I'll 'fess up. After I split with Chris, I was distrustful of guys; it was a kind of a 'first cut is the deepest' thing, I guess you could call it. I was also really busy studying for my final papers, and didn't have the time or the wish for any invasive relationship. But," she said, blushing a tiny bit, "I have a very high sex drive. So...."

"So?" I replied, laughing a little.

"Ah, don't laugh at me," she chastised me, but giggled a little herself. "So I got myself a fuck-buddy."

Just to tease her, I pretended I didn't understand what she meant.

"Ok, what that means is a person you just meet and have sex with. No strings, no dependence either way. No holding hands and thinking about a shared tomorrow. You just meet for sex. I hooked up with a guy from the internet, called Josh. He was twenty nine, so a bit older than me. He was a business high-flyer and had no time for a meaningful relationship. The sex was good. Josh was not selfish in bed, if you get me. We used to meet on Wednesday evenings and sometimes on Sunday afternoons for an hour or two of sex. Then after a while, I realised I liked him as a person, so I ended it."

We talked more, and she opened up about herself and her background. Cat described herself as Asian American. Her father's family were all ethnic Japanese. Her mother was mixed race, mostly Asian but some part Mexican and European too. She seemed an exotic blend to me. She was certainly a beauty.

She was raised mostly in California, but had also lived short-term in a number of major cities across America. Her father had a high powered finance job for a big pharmaceutical firm, and followed any career advancement opportunity slavishly. Cat didn't like moving to new schools and having to make and then lose new friends a number of times in her childhood.

"It made me feel rootless Carl."

She had an older brother, following in Dad's footsteps, and a much younger kid sister who made her smile whenever she mentioned her name. She described her Mom as kind and loving, and her Dad as a bit cold and controlling, although very loyal.

"Why did you come to England Cat?" I asked her.

"English literature Carl; I've loved it for years. You could say it's my 'thing.' I love writers such as Austin, the Bronte sisters, some Shakespeare, all of the classic stuff, Hardy and Dickens and others. I have my degree in it, so I thought I may as well come here to the place itself in for further studies. I'll do a Masters in maybe two years, and then I'll probably go home and teach Lit. Well, that's the plan at the moment anyway," she laughed.

"It sounds a pretty good plan to me."

She smiled. "Maybe it is, but I'm still reserving the right to change my mind. Coming here was a big deal for me. It was sort of the first time I have chosen any path. Before, everything I have done has followed what my parents, well, my Dad, wanted. He was not keen on me coming here, he thinks it's pointless, and then there is the cost I guess. He still has to agree to me actually starting full-time in October."

"Will that be a problem?"

"I don't know Carl. I'm going home for three weeks at the beginning of September. I will find out then I guess, but I want to stay here."

"You must find it strange being in a different country and culture. Are you a very patriotic girl Cat? I'm only asking as you don't wear stars and stripes panties."

She lightly punched my shoulder in mock anger. "I am kind of patriotic, but not as much as I used to be."

"Why not Cat?"

A sad and slightly angry look marred her pretty face. "Well, Dad never told me about this, but last year I found out that his parents were amongst many thousands of ethnic Japanese people that were put into internment camps during the Second World War, even though they were loyal American citizens. My grandparents lost a successful business, and when they were eventually freed they were completely broke and had to start again with nothing. Some of their - and by definition my - relatives died in those camps through medical neglect. So Carl, yes I am patriotic, but not blindly so."

This was deep stuff. 'There's a lot more to you than your beauty and quick wits,' I thought. Cat looked distracted, lost in reflection.

"How is this course suiting you?" I asked, for the want of something better to say.

Another thoughtful look: "Well, let's put it this way, I now know the differences in essay writing and bullshit academic practises between the US and British systems, so it's now no use. In fact, it's good you asked me that, as it has helped me decide to quit it."

"Really?"

"Yup, I'll quit on Monday and try to get some of the fees back."

"Good luck with that," I said, "You will need it."

Well, she did quit, and also failed to get any money refunded.

After that first night, Cat pretty much moved in with me. I never asked her to, and she never asked if she could. It just happened organically. The usual pattern to things was that she would come around to my apartment some time after I had finished work. We tended to fuck, go out for a meal and then a drink, or go out for a meal and a drink, then fuck... happy times.

She would always stay the night. When I left for work in the mornings, Cat tended to hang out with her friend Ashley, when Ashley had free time, surf the internet, or read. Her mind was voracious; she seemed to tear through books in an extraordinarily short time. She and Ashley also liked exploring new places, although their financial situations meant they couldn't roam very far.

Bit by bit, Cat moved all of her admittedly few belongings and clothes into my place. She also began to move things around in my apartment, and was full of suggestions on how to improve it. Her tastes were surprisingly minimalistic. I was never much of a homemaker, so I was happy enough to let her get on with it.

One evening when we were in bed after just having just made love, Cat propped herself up on an elbow and gave me a meaningful look. "I like you because you are brave enough to be honest, and you are never deliberately cruel to people, although you tease me too much sometimes. Also, I adore that you have sad grey eyes and when you go to kiss me I close my eyes and feel my tummy tighten. Oh, yeah, and to stroke your male ego, I like your big cock."

I replied. "Well, this is the best I can do Cat. I like you because you are smart and funny. Your mind is always searching, and you are beautiful and great to talk with. You also fuck like a train. Is that enough?"

She laughed and then hit me on the head with a pillow. "Try a bit harder than that with the compliments next time Mr B."

The following morning, Cat was browsing through 'The Lonely Planet Guide to Britain' and 'Fodor's England' while I was leaving for work. "There are so many interesting places I'd like to see over here, I wish I could get around more and check some out," she said.

'Screw it,' I thought. 'Why not play fairy Godfather for once?' "Well, if I leave this crappy job maybe I can show you some of England from the back of a motorbike."

"Don't be insane. You can't do that."

"It's summer Cat. You are young and I am not. I'm going to chuck this job in today and have some free time. I will be on good money from December anyway. Why not enjoy ourselves?"

My mortgage and regular bills were nearly manageable for a few months with what I already had in the bank, so I just needed some cash to enjoy spending time with Cat.

I've never been a great one for collecting material possessions, the exception being that I owned two classic British Triumph motorbikes, a 1966 TT Special, and a 1973 T100R Daytona. I had bought them both cheaply when they were in conditions of total neglect, and I spent loving time and money restoring them as well as I could. Well, my friend Jeff actually did most of the restoring, but still.

"I can only ride one at a time," I told Cat when she told me I was "crazy" to think of selling one.

I sold the Daytona to a specialist dealer for a nice few thousand. I could have gotten more selling it privately but didn't want the hassle or the wait. I slipped Jeff a thousand, which I thought might help keep him in beer for a while.

The bosses were none too pleased at me quitting with no notice given, muttering about being let down and not providing me a future reference, and that I violated my employment contract or some such crap. So what, they didn't treat their customers or employees with respect, so why should I have any in dealing with them? 'Fuck 'em,' I thought.

I bought Cat a leather jacket that looked ultra hot on her and a helmet. I was going to give her the things my last live-in girlfriend had left behind, but somehow figured that may not go down too well.

During the day, we rode the bike out all over the South of England. We walked through London streets in the summer rain, saw the dreaming spires of Oxford, the rolling Cotswold Hills and the Jurassic coastal cliffs and beaches of Dorset. We went to museums, historic villages and towns. She picked out tasteful little silver or brass ornaments for my apartment, which we bought cheaply from charity shops. We always ate out, at cafés, pizza joints, burger bars, pubs or restaurants.

We visited a few of my old friends, where I enjoyed the envious looks in their eyes and their incredulity at my fortune. "You lucky bastard," was a phrase I heard more than once when out of Cat's earshot.

She was a smart young woman, and her mind was ever inquiring. Cat sought out new experiences, and fed from others' knowledge. Her mind seemed to work a little bit like a snowball gathering more material as it gently rolled down a hill.

In the back of my mind, I sometimes thought our relationship would not last very long. There was the age gap for one thing, and the fact she was so gorgeous to look at. In a way, it was hard to go to a place with her and watch heads turn. Or to go to the bar to order a drink and find some guy trying to hit on her when you return to the table. 'One day she will find something, or someone, better than you Carl,' I thought. My defence mechanism told me I just had to enjoy this while it lasted, and to think of her as a joyous fleeting treasure, not a permanent one.

After returning home late when the sun had died, sometimes we would curl up on the sofa and watch DVDs, or she would pretend to enjoy listening to my musical collection. Mostly, we went to local bars and pubs where I drank Guinness or whisky and she diet coke, with a very occasional shot of Jack Daniel's in it. Or we went to the movies or lost money in a casino. After returning home, we fucked each other's brains out for hours.

The day most embedded in my memory was when we rode lazily deep into the country lanes of a beautiful Hampshire area called the New Forest. We had a meal and a drink in a pub garden full of flowers, then walked through a deserted hidden rural idyll. We made love just before the evening stole the daylight, as wild scents drifted in on the breeze.

We had ridden for hours earlier that day and decided to stride out the stiffness from our legs. We walked for maybe half an hour, coming across no other people, through some woods, alongside a meandering stream, until we found a small lake shimmering under the late afternoon sun, and rested. The air was hot and I felt warm and sticky, as well as horny yet again.

"That water looks inviting," I said. "I feel like skinny dipping and getting cool."

Cat nodded and smiled at me. "Good idea, let's do it together."

"Sure," I agreed. Very rapidly I pulled my shirt over my head, flicked off my shoes, and pulled my socks, jeans and boxer shorts down, finishing while Cat was still in her bra and panties. I saw her look at my semi-hard cock before I turned and ran into the water. It was not deep, but it felt shockingly cold when I dipped my head under the surface.

I turned to see her ripe naked body following me in. All too soon, she leant down, so that her sweet smooth mound and swaying hips were below the water level, and then she bent her knees further so that her full breasts were underwater as well.

"Ahhh, it's freezing Carl!"

"Yes it is."

I moved to her, put my hands around her waist and pulled her upright, so the water was only thigh high.

"I know a way to warm you up though Cat."

"Oh really, you do surprise me," she laughed.

I moved my lips gently down onto hers, melting them together in a long kiss as I ran my hands up and down the glossy skin of her back. Then she moaned softly as I cupped her breasts and rolled the nipples between my fingers.

My cock pressed against one of her hips. Cat ran one hand through my hair and with the other, reached down and stroked along my cock's length, then cupped my cold tightened ball sac, squeezing and pulling tenderly and loosening and warming me up there. I lowered my mouth onto a hard plump nipple and sucked it hungrily.

Then I lifted Cat up. She wrapped her legs around my waist and her hands around the back of my neck. Her smooth pussy mound was lined up with my cock. She nibbled my ear gently as my cock entered her opening. The water matched her own wetness as I sunk my iron hard pole fully inside her. The cold of the lake water and the heat of Cat's body formed an abundance of sensation that teased my body.

As much as we could, with me holding her aloft, we rocked our hips back and forth, but I sensed both of us wanted more friction, an increased power, in this lovemaking. Still holding this position, I walked us out of the lake while she squeezed my cock with her strong pelvic muscles. I moved towards a grassy embankment.

I lay her down gently on the slope, in a position where her head was a foot or so above her feet. She drew her knees up slightly and widened them as I rode her deep and fast, really hammering into her. Cat moaned softly. The sun gave her skin a golden sheen as her breasts shuddered up and down. I leaned forward and sucked on her big erect nipples one at a time.

Her pussy was so tight and wet. Cat's nails dug harshly into my shoulders. I felt her body tighten briefly like a bowstring and her cunt flooded juice. I rammed a brutal last thrust, burying myself deep inside her and let a torrent of cum loose from my balls to soak her further.

We both exhaled noisily in completion, and as my head found its resting place between her welcoming breasts, she ran her fingers through my hair.

"I love you Carl." This was the first time she said it.

"And I love you Cat." It made me happy, deep inside, to hear and say those words.

Riding back home, the nasty, but sometimes wise, inner voice that hides inside my head spat out cynical thoughts. 'She's a gold digger, only saying she loves you because you're spoiling her with attention. She's just an immature kid, and says that to every guy she dates. It's meaningless, so don't trust her. She'll be gone in a week.'

Perhaps Mr. Cynical was right, but I chose to ignore him.

I woke Cat up early one morning, with the sound of my hacking cough. What I had thought was just an annoying, mild virus, was lingering and worsening. My chest was beginning to hurt quite badly sometimes, not during, but after, exertion. I seemed to be losing some weight, and it showed, as I was slim to begin with.

"Carl, you need to see a doctor. That cough is terrible," Cat said, with concern written in her eyes.

"It's nothing that I haven't had worse before.

It will pass in a few days," I replied. I had made it a life goal to try and avoid doctors like the plague, wherever possible.

"It's getting worse. Don't be stupid, do something about it! Also, you should cut down on the cigarettes. You smoke far too many every day."

"I'm going to quit after my birthday in December. I'll get nicotine patches, and summon up willpower from somewhere."

Although this was actually true, Cat gave me a dismissive, sideways glance. 'At least it's not having a negative effect on our sex session,' I thought.

And like the fool I was, I did nothing about the lung annihilating cough.

Time sped by all too quickly, and soon it was only six days before she had to travel home for three weeks.

Returning home from a store in the evening, with coffee and milk – Cat would never even try tea – I caught the end of an obviously troubling phone call. Cat was in tears and shaking slightly as she replaced the receiver.

She ran to me and hugged me tightly. I wrapped my arms round her and held her close.

"What's wrong Cat?" I asked, gazing at her tearstained face.

"I phoned home to speak with my Mom and kid sister, but Dad answered. He found out I left the pre-university course and he was angry with me. He is saying he will not pay for my studies here because he doesn't approve of my attitude. I am in bits. I tried to explain things to him but he would not listen. Then I told him about you, and it made everything worse. He was shouting at me, telling me the sooner I got back home, the better."

I stroked her hair and kissed her.

"Ok, this won't mean much now, but things usually don't end up as badly as you think. When you get home and have time to talk with him when you are both calm, it may end up being ok."

"Thanks for trying to help Carl, and for always being so sweet with me."

I tried, but failed, to stop her tears. I remember thinking I may well soon see the last of her.

To try to take some of the sting out of her crappy phone call, I said, "I'll tell you what Cat, as you are only here a few days more, we could we take in a short European trip; perhaps France, or Amsterdam? Somewhere close enough to be able to travel to on the bike. If you like that idea, then it's your choice where. Ok?"

Her beautiful, but sad, face lit up. Cat's eyes cleared their mistiness in a few seconds. A big, warm smile turned the position of the sides of her mouth from down to up. She looked thrilled, and then deep in thought.

"That sounds great Carl, but where?"

I laughed, then said slowly, in a mock chastising voice, "It... is... your... choice."

"Hmmm. Bruges, Paris or maybe Edinburgh? Shit, this is difficult."

To help Cat out of her dilemma, I got a map of northwest Europe out, and gave her a pin. I covered her eyes with my hands and she stuck it in randomly.

She picked Ireland, so we started off early the next morning. I attached some panniers to the bike and filled them with luggage, more of her stuff then mine.

We had a clear run on the roads, and caught the ferry from Wales to Rosslare Port in Ireland. We found a tourist office and booked a small cottage in County Wexford, near a beach close to the Hook Peninsula. The cottage was tiny and cramped, but cosy. It was a beautiful part of the world, full of both rugged coasts and flat sandy beaches.

The days passed quickly. We explored the scenic, rolling landscapes of the rural areas, and small towns on the bike, or swam in the sea. In the evenings, we found a couple of pubs where local musicians would jam, and the Guinness flowed long into the wee small hours. The locals were friendly too.