Anal At Last Ch. 08

I thought about it for a bit, trying to find a reason to go, because I'd said I would go, and I don't like backing out of promises. Then I remembered the catch in Sam's voice when she asked if Angela was coming over, and that I wanted to know if she'd watched the DVD and seen the photos, and a plan started to formulate...

On Friday, I phoned the groom, told him I was ill and won't be able to make it to the reception due to being on medication and not safe to drive, and said that we should catch up after his honey moon.

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My plan was that my "lift" was going to be delayed, inexplicably. I'd obviously be a bit bored because of the delay, and would chat with Samantha whilst waiting. Then I'd get a text, saying "Car broken down! Won't be able to make it," with the text being sent by one of those online web-to-text reminder services, which meant I didn't even have to ask Angela to send me the rescue text (after all, she didn't know about the possibility of Samantha having seen the DVD yet - I wasn't even sure whether I would tell her when I found out the truth - so I couldn't exactly ask her send me a rescue text as I had to ply Sam for information).

Then, to round off the evening, and the lies, I'd say that my car was in for a service (it was parked in the garage, so I knew Samantha hadn't seen it on the way into the house), and the wedding reception was too far away for a taxi.

All in all: the end result would be that I'd be staying at home for the evening, with the pleasure of her company, as she would probably not be keen on going back home when her dad and "Babs" were there, and by the time all this planning ended, it would probably be too late for her to go out with any friends. And I'd be dressed up the nines, ready for a night out - scrubbed, shaved, looking good in a tight-ish pair of trousers and a figure-hugging jumper, showing off my hard-earned toned body.

Why was I doing this? I'm not sure. I liked the idea of someone getting off on videos of me. I liked the idea of Samantha admiring me, wanting me. I liked the idea of someone watching Angela and me from the shadows. I liked the idea of, well, introducing (some would say 'corrupting') a naive young woman to wild and rampant sex. Hell, if I'm honest, that fantasy that Angela used to bring us off the other night... that would be nice! And if I could give Angela more ideas or opportunities for similar sessions, we would both benefit. But I honestly was convinced that neither Angela nor Samantha would be interested in anything in real life. It was also just plain nice to have a little project to ... OK, I admit it... to corrupt a young woman. A bit of harmless fun, if you like.

Want randy old goat of a man wouldn't want all that?

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Samantha turned up bang on time, as usual. I'd already put Daniel to bed as he was tired after we'd spend the day at one of those jungle-gym places for kids. (Mind you, I was tired as well, so fair play to him). She was wearing her normal sort of clothes - big baggy jumper hiding what I still thought of as a lovely pair of breasts; jeans that didn't hug her figure too much; some non-descript trainers. Her hair was dark, long, and pulled back with a scrunch or whatever they're called.

I told Samantha that I was waiting for my lift to arrive, even though I'd never arranged one, and I poured us some wine. She wasn't sure at first, but I explained that, as I'd said to her on a previous occasion, a glass or two was OK, just as long as she wasn't getting rat-arsed. Plus, personally speaking, I wanted her loosened up a bit more.

And that's where my sneaky plan came into play...

So there we were chatting away before I'd gotten the text to say the "lift" was cancelled. I've got two sofas in the living room, facing each other, and we took one each. She curled her legs up underneath her. I imagined what that position would be like if she wore a short skirt.

"So, Samantha, your dad mentioned you'd met a boy at church." She looked panicked. "I didn't realise you were a church-goer?" Relief flooded her face - I guess when I'd mentioned the boy, she thought I was going to ask about him.

"Oh, yes, but I don't evangelise or otherwise talk about it much. My opinion is that if people are interested, they know where to find us."

"That's a fair approach," I responded. "Have you always been religious? And which religion is it?"

"Just a plain old Anglican. Nothing too outrageous, I'm afraid. I've not always been a believer - just the last year or two. I guess it has a lot to do with mum.... Dad's not too keen on it though."

"No?"

"Well, mum was Catholic, and although he wasn't, he kind of grew into it a bit over the years. He's not religious as such, but does believe that the Anglican church tries to be all things to all people, and ends being good at nothing - or 'Good for nothing' as he says. We've had some interesting... debates... about it."

"I'll bet. So has he met this young man of yours?" I said with a grin.

Samantha looked away, shyly, before responding. "No, he hasn't. Like I said the other day, he's just a friend."

And with that, I saw how I could draw the conversation round to Angela and I, and whether she'd seen me come on Angela's face, and seen the photos and DVDs.

"I remember how difficult it was at your age. Trying to get to know someone, but not having privacy at home to get to know someone... Samantha, listen, it's not really any of my business, and I don't want to offend your dad either. But here goes: you know me, I'm fairly liberal, and I try to stand by what I preach. Maybe I'll change my mind by the time Daniel hits his teens, but at the moment I think most teenagers are actually pretty decent, especially you, and I'm sure that you know where the lines are drawn. So... if you want to invite your boyfriend... sorry, your friend... over here when you're babysitting, you're more than welcome." She was shaking her head, no, already. "And that's an open invitation - no need to double check any time you change your mind. Just remember, I could walk in at any time, and I'd prefer not to catch you doing anything explicit..."

"Oh Andy, no, I'd never do that," she blurted out, "I'm saving my-." She stopped, flushing brighter than I've ever seen her, and taking a deep slug of the wine. Dutch courage I assume.

I paused, working out what had been coming next. Then it dawned on me.

"You're saving yourself for marriage, is that what you were going to say?"

"Well, yes. I didn't intend to say it, it just came out."

"Hey, it's OK. I admire your courage and patience - I know I couldn't have waited that long when I was your age. But... not having intercourse before marriage doesn't mean that you keep your hands off each other, does it?" I didn't wait for an answer, knowing I would only embarrass her. "So like I said, don't take it too far, in case I - or Daniel - should catch you in the middle of anything slightly risqué. It's very embarrassing when someone walks in you... er... being... intimate. Trust me, I've been on both sides of that situation."

She looked away again, flushing even more. So she HAD seen Angela and I that evening - I was convinced. There was no other reason for her reaction, as far as I could tell. The question was - should I mention that I'd seen her?

I continued: "I mean, if you were to catch Angela and I being intimate with each other, we'd all be very embarrassed, and I'd hate to put Angela or you through that." She looked even more embarrassed, if that was possible, and I was starting to feel uncomfortable with pushing it any further.

"I ... er... that is.... ummm." Samantha stumbled over what to say next, taking another gulp of wine to give her time to think.

"Samantha, listen carefully. As I said, I'm not your dad, and I'm blatantly not your mum. I'm just a guy trying to make his way in this very confusing world we live in. But I still remember what it's like to be a teenager with nowhere to go apart from your home and your car, and you don't even have a car. If you want to bring this guy back and have a bit of a kiss and a cuddle, and you don't fancy doing that in some seedy nightclub, honestly, it's fine. Just remember that there is a line drawn, and always keep an eye out for Daniel coming downstairs. With me, it's OK - you'll usually see the car or taxi pull up outside and have time to make yourselves decent, but with a light footstep of a young kid coming down carpeted stairs, when you're... er... otherwise distracted... you'll not hear him. So stick something behind the door to stop him coming in without knocking, please!" I grinned, as if making a joke.

She still looked flustered, so I thought I'd play another hand.

"OK.... I think you've got the point. Like I said, I don't agree with your religious views - personally, I think sex is one of the things, when done willingly between two adults, that brings two people closer together, and that's no bad thing in a world that drives us apart with so many pressures on our time and attention.

"And I'll give you some advice even though you've not asked for it: I kind of understand why the whole not-before-marriage thing is important, even if I don't agree with it, but can you imagine what a disaster that might turn out to be? The two of you, saving yourselves, totally inexperienced, neither of you knowing anything other than what you've caught in films or cheap magazines, worried, nervous, embarrassed.

"And trust me, it ain't all like you see in the films. You wouldn't believe the fumbling that occurs even between two experienced people like Angela and I, on the first time or two we're together...." I sighed, as if remembering how good it felt. She sat staring into her wine-glass.

"So you'll have all that nervousness, plus all the high-hopes and expectations that your first night together will be a joyous event. After the most tiring day of your life, getting married. Jesus, that's a recipe for one totally disastrous night, if ever I heard one."

She tried to interject, but I carried on talking. "Ssshh, let me finish. So, my advice: don't wait. Get some experience, even if you don't go all the way. Learn how to be intimate with a guy even if you save the best till last. That way, on the big night, you've got some time doing things that you've done before, even if wasn't with him, before you get to the main event that you've never done before with anybody and only seen in movies.

"That time in the beginning will help you both to feel more at ease, more comfortable with each other, and give you the space you need to just BE with each other, so that when it gets to the real thing, you'll already feel closer to him than you ever thought possible. And that's the most important, enjoyable, and downright fulfilling aspects of a sexual relationship.

"Just make sure the guy you pick for ..." I tried to find the right word. "Practice, if that's the right way of putting it, is someone you trust, someone who will respect you and your boundaries, who will understand that you'll only go so far and no further, and who won't talk about you and call you a prick-tease to the boys in the gym."

I stopped, running out of steam. Then I waited for her to respond.

"Andy, I... well... I don't know what to say... no-one's ever been as open with me before."

"Well, as keep saying, I'm not your dad. I don't see it as a personal issue if you start fooling around with boys, and I won't try to beat them to a pulp for messing with my little girl. From where I'm standing, you're an intelligent, mature, attractive young woman, even if you do dress like my mum at times." I grinned as I said this, as it was kind of a standing joke between us that she didn't dress like other teenagers. She laughed at that, the ice broken.

We sat for a while, sipping our wine. I could see she was chewing things over, so I left her to it until she was ready to speak.

A few minutes later, she plucked up the courage. "Andy.. can I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"Well, I don't mean to pry, and tell me if it's none of my business, but when you're with Angela... does it feel... I don't know .. special?"

I wasn't sure what she meant, and I wanted to draw her out a little bit more, to see what she knew about us. "How do you mean?"

"Hmmm. Well....you're not married to her, not living together, and she's not Daniel's mum. You're only fairly recently divorced, and you've not been together long enough to know if you're going to be together permanently... sorry, that must sound terrible, but you know what I mean. So ... er... doesn't it feel kind of..." Another gulp of wine. "Maybe ... cheap, when you're ... with her... physically, I mean?"

She paused, and hastily added: "I'm not saying Angela's cheap... or you obviously... but-"

"I know what you mean," I interjected, "and it's OK to ask." I paused, wondering which way to go now. "Angela is special, just maybe not in the way you imagined, and she will, I hope, be around for a long time. Maybe not permanently, but I stopped believing in that the first time a girl broke my heart." I decided to add a little something extra in. "She was a lot like you, actually. Worked hard at school, big plans for university, wanted an early marriage and kids and a white picket fence, was very pretty and sexy - " Sam looked away again, embarrassed. " - but she didn't know it herself when we first met. Once we'd been together for a while, when she'd started university, she kind of grew into herself. She took what I thought was special and threw it down the pan, shagging the captain of the uni rugby team. All those years of sexua- , I mean, of intimacy, flushed down the drain."

Samantha looked a bit taken aback. "You mean you were at college when you started-." Then she stopped suddenly.

I laughed wryly. "Nearly right. At school actually." She looked shocked. "Yes, at school. Late, compared to my classmates, maybe 15 or 16, and then right through college as well. But that makes the heart-breaking even harder when three of four years later she dumps you for the high school jock, so to speak... You look surprised?"

"Well, I know some of my friends have already, well, you know. But you surprised me - you seem a lot more sensible."

"Ah, you mean I seem a lot older. But even I was young once!" I laughed and took another sip of wine. She seemed more relaxed now, maybe glad to have someone to talk about this kind of thing other than her dad or brother. And maybe from the wine as well.

"No, no, it's not that Andy, you seem pretty, well, pretty cool for someone of your age. I mean, look at my dad. I mean he's lovely and everything, but he's gained a bit of weight, dresses like I would expect someone of your age to dress, and acts like a right old woman at times. But you're different, you..." She paused.

.".. I don't match any of that," I added on her behalf. She nodded. "I'm flattered! Well, some of that might be the whole divorce thing. When something like that happens, it's almost a personal insult, so it was important for me to get back on my feet, partly for my own sake, and Daniel's, and partly to show Sharon that I was getting on with my life. But with your mum and dad, there's nothing he could have done about what happened, so he was probably less inclined to respond the way I have. I've been keen for a while to find someone special; I've just been too busy. And it was easy for me to blame Sharon for the some of our problems, which made it easier to get over her. Whereas every time your dad looked at another woman with any amount of interest, I'll bet he's painfully reminded of your mum."

She didn't respond. Probably she was also being reminded of her mum's death and absence.

Beep-beep - my text arrived. I looked at the phone, but didn't answer it, waving my hand as if to say "I'll get it in a minute."

"Can I ask one more question?" she asked. I nodded, signaling her to go ahead. "When you split up with your first girlfriend, and started seeing someone else... didn't you feel that your time with the first one was wasted and that it cheapened the time you spent with the next one?"

I knew the answer straight away, but waited a few moments as if considering her question. "Not really. Like I was saying earlier, about the first night you will have with your husband, and how having had some experience in this area will make it a whole-load more relaxed, and fulfilling, and enjoyable, when you do finally lose your virgini----." I coughed, acting embarrassed. "Well, say it like it is, Andy," I muttered partly to myself, and then continued. .".. when you do finally lose your virginity. In the same way, having been with my first girlfriend took the pressure off the start of that next relationship, and it lasted a long time; it was Sharon. OK, so you know how that ended, but it lasted a long time before it ended."

She thought again. "Do you think you and Sharon would have lasted if she'd been your first? If you'd not had... relations... with your first girlfriend?"

Gotcha, I thought. "Absolutely not. There's no way we'd have gotten over those first few times - she was too demanding, and wouldn't have had the patience. Probably a harbinger of things to come, now that I look back on it. Still, Daniel wouldn't be here without her, so I wouldn't change things even if I could. Which is why I'm saying: take the time to be involved with a boyfriend, before you get married - that way, your marriage will get off to an easier start, and it's at the start that you need a break, as you have so many other pressures on you... moving in together and getting used to that, financial pressures from the wedding and building a home together, new routines, et cetera. Adding an embarrassing and uncomfortable sex life is just asking for a real bad start to the relationship."

As much as I hated to break the flow, I thought it time to read my text. "Could you give me a moment?" I picked up the phone, read it, and exclaimed my distress at the cancellation of my lift. I pretended to be thinking through my options out loud, so that she could follow my master plan - I couldn't drive because the car is in for a service. Didn't want to go by taxi - too expensive for a party I wasn't too keen on to begin with.

Then I summarised. "Ah, I guess I'm staying in for the night. Damn! I hope you're not disappointed?"

She stood up. "No, it's OK, I'll just get my things together."

"Well, you could go, or you could just stay here for the evening. You said that your dad was cooking dinner for Barbara tonight. If you want to stay here till after she's gone, you're more than welcome."

She thought about it for a moment. "No Andy, I'll just be in your way."

"Don't talk tosh. I like having you around - you keep me young!" I said, my cheekiest smile on my face. "Besides, any man of my age would love to have a lovely young woman like you around all night without any distractions and to talk about sex." I waggled my eyebrows and wiggled my hand by my eyebrow, as if waggling a pair of glasses up and down. It was my best Eric Morecambe impression, but I think she was too young to recognise it. By about 20 years, I thought in dismay. But she appreciated the light-hearted joke.

"Now, what do you want to eat - the choice is only limited by what we can order by phone."

"I haven't said I'm staying yet!" she exclaimed, laughing.

"Sorry, you're too young and frumpily-dressed - your opinion doesn't count," I argued.

We ordered chinese, paying by credit card as I had no cash on me, and I added some spare ribs to start - purely to fuel my sordid fantasies of seeing her lick her fingers, of course. Then I topped up her wine.

"Can I ask you a question, Samantha?" She nodded her approval. "This is a bit of a deeper and more personal conversation than I would normally expect to be having with someone your age... is there something on your mind? I mean, I'd like to think that maybe you could talk to your dad, or brother, or a friend about things, but I kind of get the impression that you've been thinking around something for a while, and they're not the right people to talk to. And if you can't talk to someone else, you might as well talk to someone outside your immediate circle of friends and family, for an outsider's opinion.."