Is It for Real

And doing them beyond superbly.

'When,' I wheezed back at her.

'On ten,' she grunted. 'Ten, nine . . .'

I'd played that game before and, although I was suddenly very, very nearing the end, I joined in.

'Eight,' we said together. 'Seven . . .'

On one, shrieking like banshees, we shared the biggest and best double O in recorded history. Trust me, I've had squillions and that one was mega. It wasn't just a seventh, it was a seven to the power of seven, at least.

Maybe seven to the power of seven times seven.

Yes, it was as satisfying as that.

*****

Relaxing together in post-coital bliss I suggested that it was my turn. Rebecca found that funny and told me to look out of the window. I'd left the lights on, as per always, so looking out surprised me. I expected full darkness, but the sun was already shining, promising to crack paving flags later on.

Still on top of me, my lover somehow hooked up her discarded gown and produced a mobile out of a seemingly invisible pocket. 'It's five past six,' she announced like a BBC newsreader.

Then, sounding like the woman of the world she was in real life, 'Your turn will have to wait my dear, I'm otherwise booked. Breakfast's at seven thirty. And we need to shower.'

Deciding I'd been too compliant for too long I nodded then, very noticeably, slid my left hand down her body, onto her sex. She didn't complain so, following her example, her clit got lots of immediate and intimate attention.

'I reckon we have half an hour if we shower together,' said I. 'And I'm the girl in charge now, right?'

'If you say so. But aren't you selling me short?'

'No way José. Tonight's all on me. Tonight, I'm going to show you how sex really should be done.'

'Was I as lacking as that?'

'No, you excelled in all departments. I was just bigging myself up. To meet the challenge, so to speak. I have a lot to match.'

'Even without handcuffs?'

'Yes,' I sighed, ''even without handcuffs.'

'You say the sweetest things.' Rebecca chuckled. 'What's that poking out under your shoulder?'

It was my outsized dildo of course, sheathed with my first condom.

(Well, my first condom in Hathersage, anyway. I'll reserve judgment on the rest of my life.)

'You know very well what it is,' I replied. 'I was about to use it when you knocked. And am I glad you did knock.'

My hand was still busy on her, keeping events external, saving internal for our shower.

And still she showed no sign of protest at all.

'What's it with you and Lottie?' I wondered.

'What do you mean?'

'You know how she sounds when she cums. You knew it was Helen, not her. So, spill 'em.'

'Heather . . .'

'No, come on, spill 'em.'

'Oh, alright then. Remember that customer in Croydon?'

As if I was going to forget the biggest contract WYB had ever had. I indicated that I remembered.

'Lots and me were part of the team. We had to go there once a week for months, overnighting as often as not. One night we had too many drinks in the hotel bar and . . .'

'Happens to me all the time,' I sympathised. 'Were you both virgins?'

'Not in that respect. I was in a same-sex relationship at uni. Lots was too, but she likes to swap and change. That doesn't mean she's not great in bed. We're not a couple, but we bounce groins quite regularly. I'd highly recommend her.'

'She's "Lots" and you're "Bex", right?'

'Correct.'

'Am I qualified to call you Bex now?'

'Too true you are,' she said, moins the Aussie accent, worst luck.

'In that case I'm Hev and tonight's your night.' I patted the dildo. 'Play your cards right and you may get a dose of this little beauty.'

'Little beauty?' Bex chuckled. 'Call that little? Come on Hev, let's go shower. I have an urgent need for you to scrub my back.'