Blue Christmas

"Oooh, nice. Let me say thank you properly." she offered, dropping to her knees.

I paniced, and stepped back. Words were in my head spinning, syphilis, pox, dirty, loose, shame.

"No, Sally, please, no."

"What's the matter with me? What's wrong with me Peter? It's because I'm a scrubber isn't it."

"No Sally, it isn't, well...," I hesitated just long enough for the truth to be obvious, but continued, "No it isn't."

"Ok Peter, I'll go."

She went through to the laundry and started to pick up her clothes from the floor. As she came back past me I just stood there and quietly asked her not to go. She was weeping. I followed her to her bedroom, where she started stripping off the clothes I had loaned her, to replace them with her own.

"Please don't go, Sally."

She looked around, blinking through the tears.

"My bed. Where is my bed, my duvet?" she sobbed

"Please don't go, Sally, I threw it away. Take one of mine. No, please don't. Please don't go."

"What do you want? It's me, isn't it. I must go."

She turned her back to me. Her shoulders shook. She rushed into the bathroom and closed the door and sobbed.

I was confused. What did I want? I didn't know, but I knew I wanted her to stay. I went through to my bedroom and pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt. I found a new, wrapped duvet in a cupboard and carried it through to the kitchen while I waited for her.

Eventually I heard her moving about. I tapped on her door.

"Sally. I really don't want you to go. But If you must, let me drive you home. Take this."

I pushed the duvet towards her.

"No, its much too good for me. I could never pay you for it."

"But I have destroyed yours?"

"No." I think the thought of her cold room crossed her mind. "Well OK. Thanks."

"At least have some breakfast, some coffee."

The smell of the coffee was working hard.

"OK. Coffee."

I poured the coffee. I offered milk and sugar. She took both. I stuck a couple of slices of bread into the toaster.

"No, not for me." she said.

But when I put the toast and some butter in front of her she ate it.

We sat in silence, then she stood up.

"Thanks Peter. I wish it could have been different. But thanks."

She moved towards the door, and I followed. We went down to the car park, and I drove slowly out onto the road. The fuel-tank warning light was flashing. I had to fill up, so I detoured towards the 24-hour service station that might still be open on Christmas day. I drove slowly, not wanting to risk running out again.

"What is it Peter?"

Before I had time to think, I answered.

"I'm frightened."

"What of? Of me?"

"No."

"Health?"

"No. Yes. No."

"Peter, please stop the car."

I parked.

"Peter, think about last night. I had to trust you."

"What?"

"I had to trust that you were not the sort of man I meet too often."

"Uh?"

"The men who have beaten me, raped me, exploited me. Them as make me live in that hole. That make me work in that place. Peter, I trusted you."

"Uh. I see."

"You trusted me. You took me to your home. How much could I have stolen?"

"OK. I see."

We sat in silence for a minute.

I touched the gear lever, asking if I should drive on. She nodded.

As I was pulling into the filling station she spoke again.

"Peter. You are one of the nicest, kindest, gentlest men I have ever met. I would like you to trust me."

I used the manoeuvring of the car as an excuse to avoid saying anything,

"Will you, Peter? Please trust me."

"Sally, my friends usually call me Pete."

"And mine call me Sal. Pete, will you trust me?"

"Yes Sal."

"Kiss me Pete."

I undid my seat belt and leaned towards her. We kissed deeply.

"Thanks. I won't let you down."

I filled the tank, and went and paid for it. As I walked back towards the car Sal got out and walked into the sales area. After a few moments she came out again and approached my side of the car. I whirred the window down.

"Pete, this is embarrassing. Could you lend me some money please?"

I dug into my pocket and gave her a £20 note.

"What's it for?"

She grinned, but did not answer. She was soon seated and seat-belted again.

"Where to?"

"My place."

"Oh."

There must have been a hint of disappointment in my voice, because she quickly assured me that she just wanted to pick up some stuff. I sat outside while she went in. She soon came out carrying a small case and a carrier bag. She put them in the back of the car, and went back for a third bag.

"Home?" I asked.

"Your home, yes."

"You mean our home."

She looked at me. I smiled. She grinned.

"Thanks for the offer. Not too fast, though. We'll see. I won't hold you to it."

I drove back, and helped her into the lift with her bags.

"This is your room. Unpack. Make yourself comfortable."

While I hoped she was making herself feel at home in her room I wandered somewhat nervously about the flat. Almost without thinking I put on a CD.

I moved into the kitchen again. I shouted to her,

"More coffee? More toast?"

"Please."

A few minutes later she came to join me. She was wearing jeans, and one of those fleece jackets.

"That's lovely. What is it?"

"What?"

"The music."

"That? I'm not sure." I listened for a moment to identify the piece. "It's 'On hearing the first cuckoo in spring,' by Delius."

"Delius? Where's he from with a name like that?"

"He was English. He was a Yorkshireman, from Bradford."

"What? Cuckoos in Bradford?"

"Well, he travelled a bit. He died in France."

"What's up. Why are you looking like that?"

I did not know whether to tell her what was in my mind. Then I thought that I had to be open and honest.

"Sally, Sal, you know I said I was frightened. Well, the music reminded me. You see, Delius died in France, he was blind and paralysed. He had caught syphilis when he was young. It must have been on my mind when I chose that CD."

"It's OK Pete. We have checkups every month. They cost us a bloody fortune an' all. I had one last week. That's one reason why I am so short of money now."

"And you're OK?"

"I think so."

I wanted to ask her about the uncertainty in her answer, but didn't want to appear untrusting.

" Can't be sure until next week, when I get the results."

"So?"

"So..."

She pulled a box of condoms from her jacket pocket and put them on the table, together with a handful of loose change.

"The petrol station?"

"Yep. Those places don't half know how to charge for stuff, don't they."

I picked up the box, but pushed the change back towards her.

"Ooh Ta." she said playfully, picking up the coins. "But Pete, before we start, please could I have the toast. I want to keep my strength up."

I had forgotten. The toast was ready. I put some more in. I poured coffee, found plates, knives, some butter and marmalade, and arranged it all in front of her.

We sat in silence and spread, sipped and crunched companionably.

"May I?"

"No need to ask."

She grinned. She stood up, and put one slice of bread into the toaster. When it pinged, she hurried it back to the table with it. She then scooped up a large glob of butter and squashed it onto the toast, followed by a similar large glob of marmalade. I watched her, puzzled, as the toast became sodden with the sweet richness.

She unzipped her jacket. She was naked beneath it. She picked up the toast on its plate. Then she let it dribble.

"Oh, dear, I have spilt some. I don't want to waste it. Help me Pete. Help me."

She stood up carefully. She presented me with her breast, and I carefully licked off the sweetness. She arranged the toast so that the other breast needed my attentions. She encouraged me to lick her nipples. I sucked slightly at one. She gasped, and I apologised.

"Sweet man. Please do it again."

She had been stooping slightly to make herself available to me as I was seated. She straightened, and I stretched to retain contact.

"Come on then."

She picked up the box and led me through into her room. She undressed me carefully.

"Now, lets get comfy."

She indicated that I should get into her bed. She made sure that I was watching her as she removed her top and jeans, and then her panties. She climbed in beside me. She pulled the duvet over us. Then she started to pass her hands over my body. She placed one hand on my own, and encouraged it up to her chest. She showed me how to cup her breasts, while gently massaging with finger and thumb.

Once I was fully occupied there, I felt her hands moving downwards. She caressed my pubic hair, combed her fingers through it. Then he stroked my penis. I had been stretching to keep contact with her breasts, but she told me to relax, to lie back. She crawled beneath the duvet, and I felt her warm breath, and then a gentle kiss. She nuzzled over me. Her hands cupped my balls, while I felt her mouth engulf my engorged member. Her lips slid down its length. The warmth of her mouth was amazing. Her lips slid up. She kissed the head. I just gloried in the sensation. I could not help but to arch my back. She lifted herself, knelt astride me, and I felt, for the first time, my penis pushing against the fleshy lips of a vagina. The pressure increased, and I felt the lips part, and the fire of her body surround me. She slid around me. Her body was pressed against me. I was deep inside her. She was gyrating, she was tensing and relaxing her muscles. I was panting, my eyes were closed, she rocked herself upon me, It was amazing. I arched and bucked, I was coming, I was coming, Oh my god, god, god, god, Oh my love, my love, She leaned forwards and lay on me. She straightened her legs. She kissed the end of my nose.

"You like?"

I would have needed to stop panting in order to answer, and that I could not do. I nodded and replied by hugging her. She kissed my nose again. Then she stroked my cheek. I think that the expression on my face must have amused her. Then she saw my expression change to one of concern.

Her hand snaked down between us, and she grasped the base of my now softening penis. She rolled off me, and I felt a slight pull after it had emerged from her. Then something tapped the side of its shaft.

"I told you to trust me."

My hand joined hers. I felt the thin rubber membrane, and the rolled ring. As I fondled myself it slid, and I had the flacid condom in my hand, with its swinging teat containing my carnal offerings.

"Thanks Sal. I trust you."

"Cheers, Pete. Thanks. Glad to be of service. You like?"

I kissed her.

Over the course of the next couple of hours we worked our way through several condoms and positions, with snoozes in between. Further, I had learned a great deal more about the intimate details of female anatomy, and I had been educated in what actions and manipulations of that anatomy gave greatest pleasure to the female. We had also developed a considerable hunger.

I rang round until I found a decent place for a meal. I called a taxi. I didn't usually drink, but I thought that champagne might be in order.

We got back here about an hour ago. We were perhaps too well fed for further exercise, but Sal is now asleep in my bed, and I will be there, with her soon.

I wasn't alone this Christmas, and there were definitely no children involved. In another couple of days then we may be able to have even more to try. I am looking forward to a very special New Year. I am here, in my study, writing this, late on Christmas Day, a very happy Christmas Day, and all I can say is,

"Peace, goodwill, and my best wishes to you all."

Now I am going to go back to the person who I trust, and I think, love."

"Good night."