Four Funerals

It was early afternoon when she came downstairs again, and this time she was going to give me some tough love.

"Sit up," she said, for all the world like a strict primary school teacher. I sat up, painfully and automatically. I found I was wearing my pants and nothing else. It occurred to me to look for my clothes but it was too much effort so I just wrapped the duvet around me.

Tara looked at me and laughed. I looked dolefully back at her.

"So ok, what happened?" I asked, fearing the worst.

"Nothing much. You started gurgling and I could hardly let you try and get back across London on your own in that state."

"I didn't try anything on, did I?"

"No. You wouldn't," she said with a very strange look, "anyway, you could hardly raise a smile, let alone anything else."

I rubbed my head and looked around, "I'd better get out of your way, I'm sure you've got better things to do than nurse a stinking hangover."

"Well, something's stinking. The shower's at the top of the stairs on the right. You'll feel better for it. Your clothes are in the kitchen where you threw them."

I did as I was told. It was just like taking medicine. I knew it would hurt and I knew it would work. That didn't make it any more pleasant, until I was toweling myself down and I could begin to think of moving without it hurting. I went downstairs to find the smell of cooking, and my stomach gave a lurch; I hadn't eaten all day the day before as I was too keyed up, and then too drunk.

I walked into the kitchen and saw Tara. I mean, really saw her. For the first time in a long time I really looked at her. She was wearing an old summer dress and a pair of trainers, and her hair was tied back. It occurred to me that she'd kept her figure; her body was thirty-six going on twenty-five and I felt a little twitch. I didn't mind, either, or try to mask my expression as she looked up from the pasta she was flopping onto two plates. And I looked straight into those big baby blue eyes and realised that I hadn't seen them since we sat in a cellar bar at London Bridge; what had I done with my life when those eyes were just a phone call away?

I relaxed as much as my pounding head would allow and bless her, she didn't insist on eating at the table. We flopped down on the sofa and I ate like a crazy man, making appreciative comments as I slurped (it must have been a charming sight, but I was beyond caring). She flicked on the TV and we spent the afternoon watching fluff, not really speaking and not needing to. She stretched out her legs across my lap as she played with her phone and I shuffled, making her comfortable. We stayed like that for half an hour then my phone beeped. I had to struggle to get it out of my trousers, and I tried not to disturb her while I did it.

R u a twat?: It was Jo. Then another beep.

No. I kno u r a twat: Jo again.

My reply was succinct:

?

I had to wait a little longer for the next beep.

U r on a sofa with a hot chick who really likes u and u watch the TV.

My reply was a little longer:

?!

This time the reply was much quicker:

Pathetic! Thank me later ;)

I was still puzzled when I heard Tara's phone beep, and a moment later she pulled her feet off my lap and I felt her weight shift on the sofa. I turned to look at her only to find that she was just centimetres from me. I held her gaze for a second, and then she leant in and kissed me ever so softly. I was stunned. Happily stunned, and, of course, stupidly useless. She pulled back a little and looked at me seriously.

"Oh for fuck's sake, just kiss me!" she said in a low voice as she leant in again. This time I did. At first it was only lips but that was only for seconds. Then I flicked my tongue against hers, enjoying her instant response. She shifted again and now she straddled me, sitting on me as she took my face in her hands, our mouths locked. My arms were around her waist and I explored her back with my hands. It felt like the most natural thing in the world and I stopped as the thought struck me, looking into her eyes again, this time with a question on my face.

"For ages, now," Tara answered my unspoken question, "since you were the rock I could lean on. All those emails, and you really didn't get it, did you?"

"But..." was all I could manage.

Tara laughed and sighed all in the same moment, "you really need help. It's not a crime, you know?"

And she bent towards me again, enveloping me in her kiss as the neurons worked at the speed of electricity in my head, handing me the answer in a gift-wrapped package tied up with a bow. Here was Tara, a women I had always found attractive, who had been the best female company I had ever had, who genuinely liked me and who I cared for deeply; wake up and smell the coffee.

I thought it much faster than I can write it, and I acted for once, pulling her tight into me and letting my hands slip down to her butt. I grabbed a cheek in each hand and her breathing got heavier as I pulled at them. She moved against me and I felt my cock growing rapidly. Like a mug I was going to ask her if it was ok, but happily she pinned me back, continuing to kiss me as she rubbed her crotch against my bulge. Even a fool like me knew that this was the green light.

I reached up to the straps of her summer dress and pulled them down, revealing her smallish breasts. As I kissed them she gasped and her fingers were in my hair now, massaging me in her passion. I ran my hands up her bare back, loving the feeling of her silky skin. I moved my hands around from her arse to her hips and started pushing her dress upwards. She breathed even more heavily, duskily, and then we were kissing again. A rogue thought made me wonder if I was her first since Giovanni but I shut that out right away. That kind of thought can be poison.

I moved my hands back around to her cheeks, massaging them now as Tara rode my bulge. Fuck, it felt good! And then my cock almost ripped open my trousers it jerked so hard; my hands discovered she waasn't wearing panties.I'm pretty sure I growled, and I used my surge of adrenalin to lift her off me and put her down on her back on the sofa in one swift movement. I was on my feet and my shirt was off as fast as I could pull the buttons open. I struggled out of my trousers and pants (and was pleased I wasn't wearing socks). All the while I was looking at her, her body, of course, but her eyes as well and they were on fire. Matching me, really.

I stood naked over her, my cock looking bigger than I ever remembered. And then a fraction of a second of doubt assailed me. Not stupid doubt, but greedy doubt. There were so many things I wanted to do to that gorgeous body that I seriously didn't know where to start. Tara solved the problem by letting her legs fall open a little and before I knew it I was with her, lying entwined with her on sofa. We kissed deeply as we moved against each other, no words now, just gasps and our breathing.

I let my hand trail down between her breasts and across her stomach, then brushed against her pussy, enjoying her deep exhalation of breath. Then I touched her again, circling my finger at her wet entrance. She bit my shoulder. I rubbed my finger along her lips, loving the feel of them parting for me as Tara moaned. She got wetter as I touched her, feeling her flood, her moans insistent now. I didn't want to stop but I wanted to be inside her so much. Once again Tara solved my dilemma, grabbing my hair and part of my ear, staring at me like a mad woman.

"Fuck. Me. Now," not an order but an expression of need, and I wasn't about to deny her. I moved gently on to her, suddenly slower, more careful, The nagging little thought about Giovanni reappeared but this time I used it to my advantage, deciding to be patient for a little, to go at her speed. She gasped loudly as I pushed my head into her, waiting and feeling her around me. She looked me directly in the eyes, then kissed me savagely. I pushed myself deeper into her and her lips broke away from mine as she let out a gutteral moan. I pushed hard, one last time, and I was there, encased, hot breath in my ear as I pulled back and pushed again. Her head fell back and she moaned again. Kissing her neck I began to fuck her properly, building my speed as those glorious feelings radiated down my cock. I was going to come hard in this beautiful woman who was bucking her hips into me, starting to moan very loudly and shake against my body. That was too much for me and I was groaning, spasming, jerking my come into her.

We held each other tightly as we came down, then I rolled to let her lie on my chest. We were silent but our hands moved, caressing and holding, marvelling that we were together, here, in this place.

"Oh shit, condom!" I said, breaking the silence and breaking the mood.

"When was your last time unprotected?"

I looked a little shy.

"Look, I don't you're not the Don Juan of the Czech Republic, ok? I read the emails you send me. How long?"

"Never there. Not since my ex."

"My poor honey. Well, it's two years and two months for me. I guess we'll be fine."

"Yeah, but it's not just that, What if....?"

"I get pregnant? I wouldn't mind too much,"

"Whoah! Let's walk before we're running," I was shocked.

She looked at me and laughed, stroking my chest.

"Tell you what, then, we'll run upstairs and I'll give you a blow job. No need for condoms then"

I think I beat her up the stairs.

Tick...

The next day I took her to my favourite London place if I have a girl with me: Alexandra Palace. The view over the city is unparalled and it took her breath away even though I knew she'd seen it plenty of times before. Maybe she was looking at it anew. We talked about every inconsequential thing we could, laughing, kissing, hugging. But we never talked about the thing that was bursting across the forefront of our minds, until finally Tara had to.

"Are you going to bring over some clothes tomorrow? Those are getting a bit lived in."

"Well, yeah, I need to get back. I have to pack," there it was. A parting of the ways.

"Pack?"

"The house has to be empty by Wednesday morning. That's when we exchange."

"What then?"

"Back to Prague, I guess."

She was suddenly cold, pulling away from me, bewildering me; we'd been wrapped in each others' arms until then. I tried to see what was wrong, but she wouldn't look at me, and after a second she was stomping away, down the hill.

I took a step to run after her and she heard me.

"FUCK OFF!" she screamed in my face, her expression contorted and tears tumbled down her cheeks. She turned and ran, leaving me standing with my jaw hitting the floor.

It got dark as I stayed up there, sitting on a bench with my head in my hands. I'd no idea what I'd done, but I'd blown it, as usual. Finally my phone rang, Jo again.

"What the fuck have you done?" not even a 'hello'.

"No idea," miserable.

"Didn't think you'd know. You realise she thinks she's just a one night stand. You'll jet off and forget her now you've got what you want. It isn't a one night stand, is it?"

"No... no, well, I don't know," I'd learnt to be wary of saying it.

"Do you want it to be more?" Jo asked with well worn exasperation, as if talking to the hard of thinking.

I didn't answer, and Jo sighed.

"Ok. We've all put up with this long enough. As far as she's concerned you're about the finest bloke out there. You really don't have a clue how much you mean to her so I'll have to make it clear; provided you don't fuck up she is absolutely, one hundred percent yours. You don't need to think, you just need to do.She's been talking about you for ages, and she hasn't talked about any man for a long time. Giovanni really hurt her, disappearing like that, and then you come along, all Sir Galahad, and she can believe that a man is worth trusting. Not to mention that she's always fancied you a bit, anyway. She's just spent a day doing everything she can to show you what she feels about you.And then, because you are a hopeless fuck-head, you tell her you're disappearing off just like..."

I hung up because I was running, down the hill to the station where I hoped there'd be a taxi. I might have been crying.

She melted into me when she opened the door and saw me, her anger vanished but tear lines still apparent.

"I didn't mean..." I managed before she kissed me, pulling me into her house. I pulled away for a second.

"Ok, but tomorrow you've got to help me sort my house out," and I slammed her front door shut with my heel.

...tock.

We're taking it slow, fending off Jo's insistent hints about weddings. Both of us are divorced and we still carry the scars, though she's lost far more than me.

We split our time between London and Prague, and I'm hopeful that I'll persuade her to move. But if she decides against it I'll move to London in a shot.

Jo finally told me what she wrote in the text she sent to Tara that afternoon. Three simple words: Go for it! She got a big bunch of flowers for that one.