Fonding and Permission Finale

She gave a sharp laugh, which broke down into coughs. "Ow," she muttered, her voice slightly shrill in spite of it's huskiness. "Damn ..." She took another gulp of tea.

"So you're in your deckchair now," Felix reminded her.

"Oh, yes ..." Theresa paused. She seemed to need a moment to recapture her voice and resolve. "Yes, I lay back on it and did nothing much for a while."

There was a long-ish silence.

"That," Felix said eventually, "doesn't strike me as a plausible ending."

"No," she agreed conversationally. "No. I stopped doing nothing after a while ... There were these two men lodging opposite me. You might have seen them by the piano in the lounge. I don't suppose you remember them."

"No ... Nothing."

"They told me later that they were touring together, giving concerts. Fernando plays and David sings. Well, we had sort of noticed each other early in the week. It started at the beach. I was dressed for a swim. He later said that's how he'd pictured me all week ..."

"He?"

"Fernando. It was always more about him ... I heard them come onto their balcony. And I remember thinking I should hurry out of their sight but deciding not to. I just lay there, thinking this was new and ... nice."

"Hiding in plain sight?"

"Sort of ... without the hiding ... I didn't really mind."

Felix looked up to find her half-smiling again. He became aware that her story was engaging his body. It startled him. Had he expected this? Was that part of why he had asked for it? He wondered whether she guessed what she was doing to him.

"But could they ... I mean, how much do you think they could see?"

"I'm not quite sure. The negligée isn't designed to hide anything. But it was getting dark, so ..."

"You let night draw the curtains?"

"On everything else, yes." She took a deep breath. "I had this little lamp on my balcony, though."

"Hm." Felix rearranged his legs a little. "This is getting fascinating."

She sounded glad at this and it seemed to free her a little. "So I decided at some point that, you know, the negligée was a pretty thing, but it had served its term ... I could hear their talk echoing over to me and they were with me there. So I ... put it on the floor."

"The negligée."

"Yes ... It seemed right."

Felix was searching for the right question. "Had you ever done that before?"

"Not with boys around ... I'd have been scared stiff."

"That's pretty much how I feel right now."

"I thought you were fascinated ..." She sounded a touch plaintive.

"Well, not scared stiff," he amended, stroking her waist through the duvet and trying to keep his voice steady. "More ... intrigued stiff." He blushed as he said it.

She froze, then burst into a tense laugh. "I-- ," she managed, then collapsed again, and he broke down with her. Eventually, she regained control and gave him the most knowing smile he'd ever seen. "How's your patience?" she asked.

"Oh," he said as serenely as he could. "I've waited a while ... I can wait another few ..."

"Yes?"

"Days ... hours ... it depends how paralysed by flu you are."

"Ach ..." she said with a sigh. "I'm doing my best to recover. And you're helping ... Give me a little longer."

"Okay ..." Felix felt both a little deflated and roused. A crescendo had risen suddenly, only to puff out and leave behind a new beat, quiet but swift and intense, one he knew could be sustained for a long time, growing louder ever so slowly.

"How come you weren't scared?" he asked.

"Oh, I was! Just not enough ... I think everything came together that night to tip the scales the other way for once, make me believe it would work ... I felt beyond all consequence, just free and far from home and duties and parents ... and so hot. And I knew I was hot to him, too ... And felt the same way about him ... It all just eased me into adventure."

Felix felt what would once have been stabs of jealousy, but they were rousing rather than hurting him. He was half afraid that this fascination would give way to shame later. He knew that narrative too well. But, he thought, trying to sustain the mood, there was nothing immoral in her story, was there?

"So," she went on. "I was bare under the light and they were watching from the shadows. And they were talking quietly about me. I could hear the echoes. They were being really sweet, never mean, just really hooked and encouraging ... So I let myself be encouraged."

"How far," he asked gently.

"Oh ... quite a long way."

She laughed and fell silent and he tried to think of the next question. But he didn't need to.

"I ended up fooling around a bit."

He felt her hand settle on his head. Her fingers were trembling and he reached up to hold them. He was lost for words, trying to imagine what it had cost her to tell him this, how embarrassed he would have been in her place, how much she must trust him to let him know. He had imagined doing the same for the female gaze, but there had never been a female to gaze at him. And if there had, would he have dared?

"Wow," he said, hoping the naked awe in his voice would put paid to her embarrassment. "What was it like?"

"I have pages on it in my diary," she said, and he felt her relief and release. "It's in the top drawer of my desk."

"You want me to read it?" He tried sound as though her suggestion was completely commonplace.

"It'll speed things up a bit," she said decisively.

"I --thanks ...!" He wondered whether he could repay her in kind. Was there anything in his notes she must not read? He got up, walked to her desk, pulled out the drawer cautiously, lifted out a notebook, opened it.

"'Greens may safely grow'," he read out, hearing her begin to snigger. "'Largo toccata for cello and angry sheep.' Tessy, what is this?"

"The wrong book," she managed. "You've got hold of my compositions. Look underneath."

"You mean this?" He picked up a dark blue A4 file folder. It was heavy with paper: so much weight, so much precious history about her. He stroked it reverently.

"Yes," she said, reaching out, her face half straight again. "I can find you the place."

He sat watching her turn uneven pages with suppressed excitement. "Here we are," she said eventually with an attempt at business-like cheer. "Oh, holy fuck ..." She reddened. "Yes, you can tell I wrote this the same night ... Well, too bad. Here you go." She gave it to him with a sardonic grimace.

Felix took it from her, still wondering whether he deserved this privilege. He looked down at it.

"Yes," he said softly. "This is right there."

She watched him, quivering, as he read.

Fernando. Fernando. Fe No, you get the point. It's hard to stop writing your name. Just reading it makes me happy. I want to remember this forever. I need words that will mean the same to me in a hundred years. Right now no word means more than your name and smile and voice.

You watched me undress. You watched me love myself. The best, stupidest, wildest thing I've ever done. I never thought I'd dare. I don't know how you unlocked my courage. Wizard. I loved you at that piano. I hoped we'd find another chance to talk, maybe hug goodbye. This was going to be another sad story, a meek little wave through the bus window and deep blue thoughts on the long road home. I dreamed up excuses for a parting kiss before while watching you play from my far corner. I never thought I'd get a hundred. I never thought I'd strip for you. I never thought I'd ask you to keep watching. What a thing to have missed. I feel like I've never known myself before.

I want to remember everything: your excitement when you watched me; how your whispers kept pulling me back when I wavered; how you came down and played me like that piano; your smile, so ready; how you kissed my feet, worshipped them, my lowest part; how you gave me my first waking kiss and then almost made it a side note. I wish I could wear your ton hands and lips and tongue forever. I'd never wear anything else. It's like the whole world has turned into a benevolent playground, like there's nothing to be afraid of, no matter how deep we dig, like I can open, spread and toss myself to its waves and get nothing but warm licks and kisses in return; like all the horrors I've ever heard of have never happened, like behind and beneath everything is a sea of redemption. My body was safe as our toy. Yes, I'm objectifying it. Bodies are objects. It's just that they've also got us inside them. I don't feel I've ever used mine better. I w

I want to remember how yo your warm push. I wish I'd let you all the way in. I swear I will next time. I hope there is a next time. I want your cock, Fernando. I was scared of it at first. I tried to laugh at the crazy thing, but you let me feel my way round it and I want to feel it glowing inside me now. I want to fu be the flame on your wick.

I'll see you in the morning before we go. We won't have time for much, but I don't care if they see us kiss. But I need to sleep now or I'll be a mess when we meet.

Do I love you? No idea. Who knows what other people mean by the word? If this isn't love, I'm not sure I need any. I feel I can cope with anything, but maybe lack of Fernando doesn't go in that list.

Kiss you tomorrow,

Tu Rosa Inglesa

Felix looked at the page and shook his head in amazement, then thanked her, surprised by his own low voice. He lay back down and put an arm across her duvet again.

The inaccessibility of her past was bittersweet. The vastness of her life beyond his reach felt humbling. Whatever path she chose, with or without him, she would always have this to look back on. And this was only a tiny sliver of her diary. She would always be far more than his Tessy. And didn't he want that? He felt honoured to be part of her story.

She chuckled. "Trust me," she said. "I've written like this about you, too."

"Me too about you," he admitted. "I think you can read whatever I've written now."

"I don't need to." He wondered what it meant. But she reached out to stroke him hand and he yielded, lay back down by her side and let her hand comb through his hair. He felt her fingertips caress his forehead.

"How old is Fernando?" he asked eventually.

"A few years ahead of us," she said loosely. "Late twenties."

"The older man thing?"

"Probably a bit," she admitted. "But I didn't even know his age. I think I guessed he was older ... But it was mostly just that he was sensitive and knew how to play me. He asked me what I like, and listened and then he just did it. And he showed me more."

Felix looked at her. How precious and fragile she was. He shivered as he pictured her lying there, defenceless by her own choice, spread out to the other man. How outrageous hat she had allowed him to do that. And how spellbinding.

"He was really into her," she went on. "I had to give her a few breaks ... I didn't last long before the first. I was already so close when he came in ... So we had some time to talk, too."

"When you say her, do you mean your --"

"Pussy, yes."

"Is that the word you like?"

"Yes." She sounded as though she had thought about it. "In this setting ... Not at the doctor's."

He laughed. "I like it too," he confessed.

"How come?"

"It sounds ... like something firm bursting open to release juice ... like when you bite a piece of mandarin. I think it's the plosive with the sibilant."

She burst into a snort.

"Cunt sounds too hard and dirty, I always think," he added.

"Oh, I don't know ... she can feel hard and dirty."

"In a good or bad way?"

"Both." She gave him a meaningful look. "What about yours?"

"I think I'll go with cock," he said pensively. "It's conventional, but none of the others sound ... cocky enough."

"Fair enough."

"Does she have a name?"

"What, like Bubi and Basti? ... No. She's even less of a bounded thing; more like another angle to look at myself from. It sometimes feels like she extends far beyond the obvious area. No hard borders. Like ... like an orbital or something."

"So ... when you let someone hug you, they're also sort of touching your ... pussy ... a little bit?"

"It depends. If I feel into a man, I like to think of it that way ... He might touch my waist without knowing how much it means." She grinned. "Unless he can tell or I tell him."

"That's foxy ... Has it happened?"

"I have danced with a man looking over my shoulder." She gave him a diplomatic smile, blushing deeply, as though to say: 'I could tell you more, but need you ask?'

"Okay," Felix said, a little thrown. He didn't want to badger her for more detail, though he couldn't suppress the impression that she was enjoying her storytelling.

She seemed to realise. "Should I tell you more about this summer?"

"Yes, please ... What was it like for you?"

"It ... like I said, I was almost embarrassed by Fernando's attention at first. I'd never thought of my vagina as attractive before. I'd never called her pussy before. I couldn't see a man liking her."

"You never realised what a treat she can be?"

"Apparently not," she said, her voice quivering slightly. "So I was scared to let him see her ... I could believe he would like my breasts, so I was readier to let him explore them. But opening my legs ... that was the big step. I was bracing myself for his disappointment, for trying somehow not to care about his opinion after all. But he just loved her far too much. He took my ... my dirty little hole and treated it like a queen ... And it felt like I was above all queens ... and at the same time like a meal in a hungry boy's mouth ... plus the benevolent playground thing."

"What else did you do?" he asked.

"That night?"

"Yes."

"Well ... at some point I felt exhausted and we just lay on my bed and cuddled for an hour, before starting again. Then he let me watch. And touch. I was surprised how much I ended up liking that ... And we talked ... And eventually we kissed goodbye ... That took a while, too."

Felix was picturing the scene, imagining her lust and trust for the other man, half jealous and more than half aroused. "But there's more, isn't there?"

She nodded. "Lots more," she said. "Though I might have to speed up, if we want to get to Fonding and Permission tonight."

"I've got time," Felix said, defying his eagerness.

"Okay." She paused, thinking. "Well, we arranged to meet again in July. I took a coach to Spain and we rented a cabin in a tiny seaside resort. We lived there for a few weeks."

"So you were a couple?"

"People probably thought we were. But we were just free lovers ... And he has a girlfriend."

"Oh!" He felt the jolt that must have hit her at the time. "How does that work?"

"He'd told me in Calella," she said quickly. "She likes to hear his adventures. And I told him I love my freedom, just like I told you ... it was hard, because I was so in thrall of it all ... But I had time to think between school and July. And I know this about myself. I need my space." She hugged him, as though to make up for it.

"I'd love to know more about July," Felix confessed.

She laughed again. "It was wild," she said. "He called me 'Resa Inglesa' and I called him 'Playa de la playa'." Felix laughed out loud. "That sort of sums it up," she went on. "We did everything we'd dreamed of. We cooked and ate together and read each other stories and made music and went to a concert of his on the second day. He organised a cello and I joined him on stage for an encore. I wasn't even scared. We ended up improvising a duet. It was awesome." She paused for a moment. "I let him inside me the next day. We never got dressed properly that day and after supper things just went infinitely soft --is this still okay for you?"

"Yes," he said without thinking.

"We did it again most of the days after that. In the cabin, under the trees ... on the beach."

"You didn't rent a beach, though, I'm thinking?"

"No," she said calmly. "We just picked a spot a bit away from the masses ..."

"Hidden?"

"Not hidden ... I mean, we were out of everyone's way, but there was nothing actually in between."

"How did you feel about that?"

"I was timid again. At first, anyway. Fernando wasn't. It was infectious. I would never have believed I'd do that ... but I just kept surprising myself that summer."

"This summer, right?"

"I know, but it already feels like that summer ... He said I'd love it the same way I loved the balcony, if I let myself sink into it. And he was right again ... I felt so sure that I didn't care who saw me, as long as it was just strangers I'd never meet again."

Felix was trembling. He thought she could feel it through the duvet. She had derailed his imagination at full speed and it was hurtling through one brazen possibility after another. Part of him wanted to get back on the rails, but part of him wanted to roll in the undergrowth. He tried to keep his voice calm as he asked his next questions.

"So, do you know if anyone saw?"

"Yes, I was on top," she said. "I saw a few go by."

"Did they make eye contact?"

"I caught a glance or two. There was one boy who smiled and winked at me."

"When you say boy ..."

"Well, man. Our age."

"Did you like that?"

She laughed. "I did ... Fernando couldn't see him, but he knew someone was passing."

"How?"

"He could see me smiling back at the boy ... I sort of posed for a second and then laughed."

"Did you want him to stay?"

"Not really," she said slowly. "It would have been too much. I liked the encounter as a backdrop, but I didn't want it to get in the way of Fernando ... But for a moment I wanted to call out to him, yes."

"So you weren't embarrassed?"

"Well ... yes and no. I'm not sure I've ever blushed harder, but Fernando kept saying I had nothing to be ashamed of ... I found I like strangers taking an interest as long as I'm charge ... I hate humiliation but embarrassment can be nice."

"You're amazing ... I don't think I'd have borne it."

"You live and learn ... I used to feel those cam models and gonewild-girls were sluts -- I mean, had no self-respect. I still think some of them have lost it, but ... I'm with their passion in general ... I feel like 'slut' doesn't have to be an insult."

Felix noted what she hadn't quite said and how close she had come to saying it. "Yes, I've wondered about sluts," he said, well aware what he was admitting. "I always hope they're enjoying the smut, so I needn't be ashamed if I watch ... That's why I liked Fonding and Permission so much. It felt like a blessing."

"Do you still like it?" He heard her effort to keep anxiety out of her voice.

"Yes," he said. "I never thought you had this side, so I was sort of shocked at first. But once I'd accepted it, I did."

"I'm glad," she said simply.

So much relief. Felix lay where he was, more at home than he had ever been outside his parents' house. And he knew she could tell.

"I wish I had stories like yours," he said. "My adventures were always solo."

"Mine too, until lately," she said kindly. "What choice did we have?" She paused. Her tone was far more cautious when she continued. "Would you tell me some?" She sounded both curious and shy, as thought afraid her request might shame both of them. "I promise I'll keep your secret."

"I would," he said slowly, but he felt his heart leap at the prospect of coming clean to someone.

"I want to know ..." She paused, like a child considering an array of sweets. "I want to know if you've ever felt slutty. You said something like it in the Bear's Cave."

"I think ..." He was struggling. It was an unaccustomed thought. "A bit ... I mean, yes ... But I always wanted to feel seen without actually being seen."