Car Boot Bargain Changed my Life

"When he tells you his new partner is pregnant?" I ventured.

It shocked her, I could sense it. "He showed me the scan, fucking boasting about it. Do you know how many years I spent in IVF? All that pain and disappointment. I thought it was our problem, but it turns out it was my failure."

I put my arms around her, feeling the rawness of her pain. Despite the emotional upheaval, I felt myself responding to her physical presence. I tried to pull away.

"Don't Tom. Hold me against you. Your body does not lie." She kissed me passionately. Her fevered hands worked at my belt and zip, then I was in her hands and she rubbed me against the heat of her groin through her summer skirt. I knew it was wrong, but I did not want to reject her. We did not make it as far as the bedroom this time. I lay her on the couch and pushed her skirt up and pulled her knickers down. She'd trimmed her pussy hair very short. I could see her lips. "Do you like it, Tom? Do you like it more than he did?" I lost control. My mouth was on her, savouring her heat and wetness of her. The ripeness of her flesh in my mouth and her musky essence. She was like an exotic fruit. She ground her pussy in my face as she came. Foreign oaths came from her mouth. I imagined they were the filthiest words in her father's language. I could not wait for her to recover, I just splayed her legs and thrust into her. I did not last long. She was pleased she made me lose control. Afterwards, we lay in our dishevelled clothes, like two students who took advantage of an empty house for an opportunist fuck. I risked being truthful.

"Did that feel good, Anoushka? Knowing you could have me just like that. Knowing that I'm so weak for you, it does not matter what I feel. Is that what he taught you?"

She pushed away from me. "What are you talking about? You know nothing about my marriage. You know nothing about the real me?" Her skirt was back down now, and she snatched her knickers from my hand.

"I know it was all about pleasing him, and you tried, you really tried, but it was not enough because he didn't reciprocate. And when you got upset, he fucked you. Medicated you with sex, just like you got me to do. But I don't feel good about it because I care for you, Anoushka."

"Shut up, Tom. Get out of my head. You don't know about me." She turned away, staring into the back of the couch.

"It's not your fault to want what you wanted. It's not your fault you could not conceive. It's not your fault he did not want to adopt or foster. You both made an honest mistake. Don't beat yourself up about it for the rest of your life. Forgive yourself, Anoushka. Just as I forgive you for using me just now."

She turned and stared at me. She had to hear she was not a bad person. That the breakdown of her marriage was not all her fault. She was calm. At peace with herself. "How can I feel like this now, after how I felt an hour ago? What have you done to me, Tom? You think you're so smart." I shook my head. "You think you can read me like a book." I shook my head again. I was bamboo blowing in the breeze. "Are you going to say anything?"

"Anoushka, kiss me."

We were cuddling on the couch. My hand was playing between her thighs. "I should not be doing this. I'm not looking for another relationship."

"Off course, it's too soon. Although you probably jumped from one relationship straight into another over the years. Serial monogamy. Maybe with a slight overlap, but we are too polite to dwell on that."

"Shut up, you're just guessing. And I am not ready to date either."

My fingers toyed with her hardening clitoris. "Good, because this is not a date."

She trapped my hand between her thighs. "Well, what is it then, Mr Know-all?"

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, it's a pity fuck. Twice, if I'm not mistaken."

"You bastard! I can't believe you said that."

"No Anoushka, you can't believe I was honest enough to say that. I would like to fuck you properly so you can compare. Compare the difference between me and Simon. Compare the difference between pity and passion. And compare the difference between me and whoever you meet next."

"You cheeky bastard. You could not keep up with me, old man."

"Now that is fighting talk." I got off the couch and took her by the hand. She did not object when I led her to the bedroom.

It was late afternoon, and we were lying in a pool of sweat. I don't know who was more exhausted. Coming seemed to take more out of her. I managed it three more times, she a couple more on top of that, although my last one was more of a mime, as I had nothing left to give. I pulled her head onto my chest. "Shall we call it a draw?"

"If we have to stop." Anoushka was defiant. I reached between her legs. "No, a draw is fine, a draw is good. I can't believe what I let you do to me. Your tongue, your fingers, your cock, everywhere. I don't think there is a place on my body you have not explored."

"That was the idea, Anoushka. For you to know what it feels like to be loved passionately, without obligation." She looked puzzled. "I've made you no promises, I've asked nothing of you other than you respect the deadline to move out. We owe each other nothing. It's scary, isn't it?"

"You think I'll be scared all on my own in the world. You think I'll coming running back to you all afraid and say, Tom please look after me?"

"No, that's what I don't want. I'm too old to be someone's emotional crutch. Like you, I want to be wanted for myself. To be chosen by someone with free will."

"This is another dare, isn't it Tom?"

"You can call it what you like, Anoushka. But it's the truth."

***

I'd laid my cards on the table. I don't know what I'd expected after that. But to hear nothing for weeks hurt. I blamed myself for being an old fool. I would not contact her again. Anoushka broke the impasse. She had no hot water. I went round to restart the boiler when she got home from work. I was done in five minutes. We sat in the kitchen diner drinking coffee. My eyes lingered on the sofa. Memories of the tangle of our half-clothed bodies flooded back. I wondered if there were newer memories for her; I did not like the thought.

"Stop that, Tom," she said, knowing where my mind had been."I'm supposed to be the mind reader, remember." We studied each other. She'd changed out of her work clothes into an old pair of joggers and a sweatshirt. A hairband pulled her hair from her face, scrubbed clear of make-up. She was making herself as unattractive as possible. It did not change the way I looked at her.

"And stop that too." She pretended to be annoyed but could not suppress a brief smile.

"Are you enjoying the single life again, Anoushka?"

"It's been great to catch up with old friends. And make new friends." She scored a hit, and I swallowed a lump.

"You should get more sleep, Anoushka. You've got the rest of your life to enjoy your freedom. There is no need to hurry." Her hand went to the start of her laughter lines.

"Thanks for the advice Tom," she said sourly.

I could see us getting nasty if the conversation continued. It was not what we wanted to say, but we were to stoked up to find kinder words. "I have to go now; I'm cooking dinner for a friend." It was the truth, I had not meant it as a barb, but it stung anyway. I think she was more surprised she'd never considered my life outside of her.

"You should have said so when I called. I could have waited." We looked at each other and knew that was not true. Neither of us could have waited.

"You needed my help. But now, so does she. Her husband is not well. He will not get better. Sometimes she just needs a break. Goodbye, Anoushka." I kissed her cheek and left her sitting at the table.

On the drive home I recognised what the test was about. She wanted to see how far she could push me away. It was like the child who says they hate their mum. If they weren't certain they were loved, they would never risk saying it.

I was surprised to get a text at 11.30 pm.

"Sorry for calling you out. I hope I did not spoil your dinner."

I was glad she was nosey.

"Everything's fine. BTW congratulations on not sleeping with me."

She was self-depreciating

"Yea for me. I'm all growed up."

I was kind.

"Sarah's gone home. Not that you're interested."

She was honest.

"Thank you, Tom. Goodnight."

Neither of us were very good at pretending not to care.

It came to a head a week before her tenancy was up. Anoushka invited me over for a thank you meal. She had dressed nicely, but not provocatively, in a cream and black sleeveless shift dress. Because it covered so much of her, it made her bare arms more attractive. She pulled on a cardigan to stop my distraction. After a lovely Portuguese chicken dish, 'It's not all piripiri Tom,' we sat on the couch and Anoushka gave her brief speech.

"Tom, you have been so kind to me. I was a complete stranger, but you helped me out of an awful situation and allowed me to get on with the rest of my life. I don't think I can ever repay you. I'll be out of your hair next week. A girl at work is looking for a new flatmate."

I took in the nuance. Our business had been concluded. "I'm glad I was able to help. I hope the pleasure has been mutual." She blushed. "But what is the rest of your life going to be about, Anoushka?"

She found a bright smile. "You know, going out, having fun, meeting new people, seeing new places. I've got lots of things to do." She was having as much trouble convincing herself as she was me. That annoyed her. "I'm having a great time. You don't know about my recent life, Tom. Its—"

"No, I don't Anoushka. But you don't know about mine either. I wondered why you never asked and now I know why, it's because you never wanted to consider the possibility that something might take me away from you."

"Don't flatter yourself, Tom."

"When Sally died, I was adrift, an emotional wreck. I had a lot of sympathy from friends, especially Sally's friends. They'd look in on me now and again. There was one woman, Lucy. There'd always been a flirtation between us. I didn't realise how unhappy her marriage was. We started fucking. Medicating each other with sex to dull the pain. See, I know what that is too, Anoushka. But it was not right, and we stopped before we hurt other people."

"Okay Tom, I get it."

She didn't want to hear any more, but I was not finished. "Then there was the dating. So easy these days, and so meaningless. Swipe this way, swipe that. And what do you remember? Just another pair of tits, another pussy. Another fleeting relationship seen through the lens of a porn film."

That struck home. "How many were there, Tom?"

"I don't know, it's not important." Her stare demanded an answer. "Maybe a dozen?"

Her eyes opened wide. "You fucked a dozen other women?"

"Is that what you're taking from this Anoushka? We're not keeping score. Anyway, I had a head start on you." Her embarrassed look confirmed my suspicions about her new friends. "It's all meaningless, isn't it? You have freedom to do things that don't give you the pleasure they should. You break old friendships; you struggle to make new ones."

The silence hung heavy for a long time. She swallowed her wine in one gulp and launched into her confession. "He was a colleague at work. A shoulder to cry on over the last few years. He's got a wife and two kids. I think it was always a fantasy for both of us. We had the opportunity when I split from Simon. We would come here at lunchtimes. It was great for a couple of weeks. I thought, yes, I can do this. Another woman did it to me. But then his wife came in one day to have their daughter fitted for glasses. I looked at his child and I knew we could not do it anymore. We both felt it was wrong. He's transferred to another branch now, and I've lost a good friend."

"Not so different then, Anoushka?"

She poured more wine. "And dating. Fucking Tinder. It like crack for sex addicts. How can anyone meet a genuine person that way?" She saw the question in my look. "I'm not telling you Tom, but it was not bloody twelve, okay?"

"But enough to know. Enough to know the difference. The difference between what is out there and what we could be. You may still need to look, but I'm ready Anoushka. I love you, and you've tried to test that to destruction because of what happened between you and Simon. I get that. But how long do you want to keep doing this for, before you've had enough? And will I still be here when you think you are ready?"

She knew what I was suggesting and it frightened her. "I'm not sure, Tom. I'm scared."

"Do you think I'm not?" I pulled her towards me and kissed her. She threw her arms around my neck. "I've missed this more than I thought I'd ever admit to you, Anoushka." I didn't want to spar anymore.

She put her head on my chest and continued her confession. "Afterwards, with those men. After the rush of lust and release, there was nothing. There was none of this. I hated you for what you said. For making me expect this. Intimacy."

"Yes, I'm a bad man for wanting to save you from a lot of disappointment."

"Liar, you wanted to save me for yourself. A dozen women, Christ! I only hope they were one at a time?" She searched my face.

"Yes. They were one at a time."

"Well, don't look so disappointed about it."

"Come on, I want to show you somewhere." I stood up and took her hand.

She knew I was driving home. My old Labrador, Masie greeted us at the front door. She sniffed Anoushka and rubbed against her leg. "That's a good omen. She might let you stay. I'm going to put the kettle on. You are going to search for ghosts."

"I couldn't go snooping around your home, Tom."

"I insist. How else are you going to get a feel for it, Anoushka?"

The tea was ready by the time she got back. She was carrying photos frames from the lounge. "He looks just like you. Heaven help the ladies." It was my son's photo with the university coxless four at Henley. They'd won the final.

"Yes. I think Luke is getting my share."

"Oi. You've not done so bad, mister twelve."

"Actually, it's a baker's dozen, thirteen." She thought for a moment and went to punch me. I hugged her, trapping her arms. "But I would trade all the others for the last one." I kissed her and we could both feel that heartbeat starting in the pit of our stomachs.

Anoushka squirmed free, brandishing another frame. "Your wife looks nothing like me?" Sally was tall and blond.

"You must be relieved I'm not looking for a direct replacement."

"Well, you know you're nothing like Simon."

"Exciting, isn't it? Come and see upstairs." She looked in all the bedrooms. "Found any ghosts then?"

"No, only friendly spirits." She kissed me and pulled me into the guest bedroom. She looked across the corridor at the bed I had shared with my wife. "Not yet, Tom." I didn't complain. I unzipped her dress, and it slipped off her shoulders. I stepped back to admire her sexy black underwear. "It was a compromise. I thought I was saying goodbye to you."

I lay her on the bed and kissed her neck and shoulders. Anoushka squirmed. I turned her on her stomach and kissed her shoulder blades. "You've missed a spot." She knew what I was doing. I was reclaiming her. I was wiping away all traces of the men she'd been with since the last time we were together. I ran my tongue the length of her spine and she shivered. Anoushka twisted and turned, offering her body to my lips and tongue and fingers. I brought her to the brink of orgasm several times and she was happy to be tormented. I put her toes in her mouth and sucked. They were connected to her pussy. She lifted her hips, offering herself to me. "Play with your pussy Anoushka, I want to watch you come." I batted away her grasping arm, and she did it for herself. One hand splayed her lips and circled her clit while the fingers of the other squelched nosily between her lips. It was such an erotic sight. She shut her knees as she came, trapping her hand between her thighs. She took a while to surface.

"That was fantastic Anoushka, what a sexy woman you are." My stiff cock in my hand provided conclusive evidence.

She was miffed. "Yes, well, if you want to see more of that, buy a film. Now come here and fuck me with that thing."

She took the next day off work sick and we stayed in bed all morning. Then we took the dog for a walk. As I cooked a late lunch, she pottered in the garden, pruning flowers and bushes like she'd been doing it all her life. She apologised for not asking first. I realised I'd not yet asked her to move in. "It needs a woman's touch. I'd like that woman to be you, Anoushka. Do you need some time to think about it?" She nodded. After lunch she lay with her head on my lap as we watched meerkats performing on a nature programme. She looked up at me and rubbed my stubbly chin.

"It should not be this natural, Tom. Not so soon. It's not supposed to be this easy?"

I stroked her hair. "Why Anoushka? Anyway, for loads of people it isn't. Don't see a blessing as a problem." We ended up in bed again before I had to take her back to the flat. We shared apprehensive glances on the journey. She opened the door and walked through all the rooms while I waited in the kitchen. She came in carrying a small bag and kissed me.

"I wanted to see it one last time. The place that changed my life. Please take me home now Tom."

Two years have passed quickly. We've been very happy in our world. Our only problems start outside the front door. Her friends; 'He's too old for you. What about families? What happens in twenty years?' Anoushka replied, 'Most of you will be lucky if you're still married in twenty years.' A bit barbed, but accurate. I got the same thing from my friends. The men would shake my hand and ask me how I did it. But first they'd look around to make sure their wives were not in earshot. The women, fearing I'd put ideas in their husbands' heads, would find a quiet moment to wish me happiness, but warn the age difference rarely worked. I said of course it did, otherwise Hollywood stars and business tycoons would not keep doing it. They did not appreciate the joke.

We talk about the future and we're looking at fostering. It's not right Anoushka should miss the joys of parenthood. I was surprised the agency had no problem with my age. The woman reassured us that there was no discrimination. She said, 'A loving family is all that matters.' And that is what we are.

***

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