Partial Insertion Pt. 01

"You obviously haven't heard."

"Heard...? No. I'm not on the phone. Well they've got one but they won't give me the number. What is it?"

"Her father's had a stroke and she's gone home."

"A stroke? Is that bad?"

"I think you should come in. I've got the number indoors. I'm not waiting on you out here forever."

She was dressed for work and her body language conveyed an impatient mood.

"Alright." Gerry started to climb the stairs.

Beverly closed the front door as he rose, and pulled down the zip at the front of her housecoat several inches so that her brassiere and its contents looked as if they might flop out. "'Is it bad?'" she echoed, climbing behind him. "Might as well say 'how long's a piece of string?' Her mother's a bit shocked. So she's going to stay there for a bit, help her with a few things, keep her company until she calms down."

"Is there anything I can do?" said Gerry as she reached the flat.

He flushed slightly when he realised how much of her large bra cups he could see, with their leaf pattern lace and soft, swelling cargo. There was no one else in the flat. Surely it wasn't right for her to be wandering around showing her tits off like that when there were just the two of them there? He decided to get the phone number and make a swift exit.

"Anything you can do? Well. Don't make unreasonable demands when she comes back."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's go and sort out this phone number," she said, sweeping him into the kitchen, the nerve centre of her operation.

She pulled down a sheaf of papers from a shelf, tore one into some pieces and started writing on one.

"You know what I mean. Don't make unreasonable demands about sex."

"That's none of your business." He had gone bright red now, something that was embarrassing in itself. He shouldn't have allowed her to get him into the kitchen.

"Well, she made it my business by being upset and needing a shoulder to cry on, wouldn't you say? She wanted me to talk to you, because you need to get your act together before you go bothering her. Especially now."

"What do you mean?"

"You need to find a little help... what I'm saying is, if you were a bit more sure of yourself..."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Well are you a good kisser?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" She laughed and put her hand on his arm. "What do you know, boy? What do the women say?"

There was a long silence.

"Oh wait," she resumed. "You've only ever kissed Rachel. Am I right?"

His eyes were cast down in submission and looking away to his right, still in silence.

"I am right. Damn. I'm always right."

He felt that she was in complete control of things unless he made a scene and stormed off.

"She's not happy, but I can help," she said.

"Look I don't think—"

"You don't think what? You don't think some other guy isn't sniffing around waiting for a chance to get into her knickers? Dave for a start..."

"Who," he said as pompously as he could, "is Dave?"

"Lecturer—beard—booming voice—thinks he's god's gift to women. He isn't. He's a creep who thinks he can win any argument with you if you'll give him one. I'd rather drink drain cleaner. Called round a few times for 'academic reasons', lent her some books. That kind of thing. Do you have lecturers coming round to yours? No? Thought not. Still, he's experienced, been round the block a few times... someone's going to get there before you do, mate—it might be him—and once he hits the spot, she'll be purring like a kitten—and you're history. Not even that, in fact. You'll be written out of the story completely, mate. She'll be far too busy sucking his cock to remember you even existed. So—"

"That's my girlfriend you're talking about," he howled. "You know, I think you've got a really nasty way of looking at the world, Mrs Strait..."

"Do I?" she said and glided closer to him, undoing the zip on her house coat even more as she went.

Then in a distant, trance-like voice she continued, "You can get a better look now. You've got a really nasty way of looking down my charlies. Rachel will love it when I tell her that her boyfriend came round to stare at my tits."

"I did not and you know it."

His eyes fell to avoid hers and he found himself gazing into the lace edged ravine of her cleavage. For one unthinking moment, he pictured his hands all over its abundance. Then the moment was over and he started to go red in the face again. He looked up to see her tongue hovering under the gap in her front teeth, and pulsating in a devilish smile.

"You're still looking at them, like you always do—and it's Bev. Bev."

"They—they were hard to avoid. What am I doing here now?" He made a show of looking at his watch but inside he knew it was far too late. What for, he had no idea, but it had been too late from the moment he had gone into the kitchen.

"I'm going to teach you to kiss." She flashed her gappy toothed smile at him. "I promised Rachel I'd help."

"Teach me? We don't need any help."

"That is a fucking lie and you know it," she said in a low sing song.

Her arm snaked round his shoulder as her hand cruised to the back of his neck. She stroked it at an indolent pace, then started to pull him down firmly while he gazed transfixed by her sumptuous bosom and its ornate setting.

Like a rabbit trapped in the headlights, he felt the coming moment as inescapable, the moment when her lips touched his and her grasp on his neck locked to keep him there while she got to work on him.

"Mmm," she hummed, her lips big and soft and on his. Her tongue was all over them, preparing him for its entry. But then she paused.

"Houston, we have a problem..." She moved back as if to study him. "Talk about stiff upper lips. Let them go, Colonel Blimp, let them go. You're never going to do it if you do it if you copy those guys in the old movies. It's like you've clenched your fist. Let me..." She took hold of his lips with her thumb and a couple of fingers, and wagged them around a bit, then tugged at the surrounding flesh. "Let them go loose," she ordered. "Good. Now."

She moved, cradled his neck and put her lips on his, then forced the tip of her tongue into his mouth.

He caught his breath as she took charge, pushing and flicking over the lining of his mouth. She was dressed for work in one of those nylon tunics. Yet again, he noticed that she was wearing a black bra and panties. In addition this time she was wearing dark tights and an elasticated cincher belt with a metal clasp round her waist. The belt gathered the skirt of the tunic in to the benefit of her hips and her generous arse. It just managed to impose some shape on her figure, and her prominent bosom did the rest.

He was reminded of when she had pressed her tits into him while he was working on the fusebox and waiting for Rachel to come home. Oddly, it it somehow slipped his mind completely to mention it to her.

In spite of himself, if he only admitted it, he was always slightly excited by seeing Beverly dressed for work. Now it was blossoming into a real state of arousal. And his enjoyment of the look of her body and her clothes, complemented her tingling stimulation of his mouth, as she made good her possession of it.

She adjourned, the tip of her tongue jauntily raised as she pulled back. She was grinning with no little satisfaction.

"Like that?"

He stared vacantly for quite a long time, resenting it and wanting her to repeat it at the same time.

"No."

She took a deep breath as if he wasn't there. Then she grasped him by the hair on the top of his head and went in hard, forcing her tongue right in so as to overcome any resistance. As she did so she undid the first few buttons at the top of the shirt. Leaving him breathless she nuzzled the space between his neck and his shoulder. Suddenly he shivered as she reached a spot he didn't even know existed.

"O-o-o-oh..." he moaned, as her tongue flickered over it and his excitement intensified. She started to pull the bottom of his shirt out and her hands crept inside it, roaming freely.

She pulled back to look at him again. This time she didn't even bother to speak, but she nodded gently and her face seemed to say, "now do you take me seriously?". The piggy nose wrinkled in a smile of malicious glee, as she advanced on him. His cock was starting to harden and he realised that she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

She had no need to hurry. He was her conquest now and when she kissed him again, it was with the delicacy of a lover, the tongue sliding gently over his, and he made no attempt to resist. He found himself gazing into her eyes again.

"What's going on?"

She moved to stroke his chest slowly undoing more buttons as she went. "Bev. I'm called Bev."

"Bev? What's going on?"

"I told you. You're going to kiss me. That's what we're doing, yeah?"

Gerry didn't seem to remember anything they were talking about before.

She turned round. "Well let's see what you can do now. Give me a minute."

"Look. I think I should be going."

She went upstairs anyway, calling down, "Why? Are you afraid you'll fall in love with me?"

"No," he shuddered and went over to the table where Beverly had been writing. The scrap of paper there had 'Rache (Mum)' written on it but no number.

"Sure?" she said when she returned after a minute or two. She was clutching a tabbed hard back address book which she proceeded to open on the table.

"Sure of what?"

"Sure you're not afraid you might fall in love with me?" She said this as she wrote on the paper scrap.

"Ye-es." He dragged this out in annoyance as she treated him to another devilish smile.

She put the scrap in her pocket.

"Well let's get on with it."

He noticed that she no longer had the tights on. "Are you wearing perfume?"

She cocked her head slightly as if to say, 'well what do you think?', then walked up and gave him a small kiss on his lips that made a plopping sound. He could tell that she'd cleaned her teeth.

"Yes. I'm wearing perfume. You asking why?"

"Uh. No."

"You are. So I'll tell you. You need to get into the mood, Gez. You're not learning how to fix a car here. I need to get you into the mood."

"What mood?"

"We need to get you to feel like a lover, Gerry." It was the first time she'd called him that since they'd been introduced. She let that sink in.

She was right. He needed to feel like a lover if he was to go on with Rachel.

"How do we do that."

"Just stay on the bus."

"But who are we doing this for?"

"You and Rachel, of course," she said holding his gaze with those extraordinary eyes.

There was simply no scope for disbelief when she used them

"It's a role play," she went on. "Whatever you do to me, whatever we're doing, you should pretend you're doing it with Rachel—if you can."

Again she paused to let him absorb this.

"So if you kiss me or hold me, it's got to be that you're feeling as if you're holding the woman you love."

"Uh..." He was slightly terrified. He still found Beverly a bit scary.

"Gez, babe, you don't need to be all 'unnh' with me." She mimed a cowering figure, arms crossed, covering her chest. Then the palm of her hand landed gently on his chest and cruised to the back of his neck again, stroking it gently. She kissed him very softly, not a kiss of desire. "That one's for the real me and the real you. What do you think? Shall we try being friends now?"

He still wasn't sure they were on the same side, but he couldn't deny that she was a good kisser. He decided he might as well go along with it, make use of what she was offering and... enjoy her.

"Okay—friends. We're in it together now, aren't we?"

"Yes. We are." She gave him the full force of her gaze again. "Now. Kiss me. As if you really love me."

He put his lips onto hers a few times and then he pushed them apart with his tongue and went exploring round her mouth. It slithered over hers. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands but wanted to hold her body against his, so he slipped his arms round her hips, reasoning that this is the kind of thing that you would do with the woman you love. Then it occurred to him that maybe he shouldn't, maybe it was beyond the remit he'd been given...

Aah...yes: He felt her pushing forward with her hips so that her pelvis went against his and he felt them churning round so that she was rubbing on his cock, and her hands dropped to his waist, pulling out his shirt from his jeans, so that she could stroke the bare flesh of his back. Then they moved above his hips and she found another one of those places that made him shiver unbearably.

When you do that, you can make me do anything, he thought.

She brought her wrist up to look at the time.

"Oh, Gez, you're learning really fast," she murmured in his ear, dropping kisses underneath it. There's a bit more to learn, though. So listen up: you play with your cock don't you? Gez? Do not go all shy on me. Now is not the time for that."

"Okay."

"Okay, what? What do you do?"

"I... play with my cock. I masturbate and, uh, think of women."

She still wasn't satisfied with his answer and waved her hand round and round in a circle as if it was waiting for permission to land.

"I play with my cock, Bev."

"That wasn't so difficult. What women? Anyone I know?"

"I... I... no. No one I know."

"No one you want to say?" she said gleefully.

With unnerving speed she started undoing his jeans and pulling them down along with his y-fronts.

He was paralysed with horror while she did this. Eventually he said, "Are you sure about this?"

"Do I look as if I'm not sure?" she said, reaching down calmly to help herself to his cock. Her wrist then moved smartly back and forth. His cock stiffened with every stroke: the first time a hand other than his own had done this to him.

She put her mouth near his ear.

"How do you like this?" she asked, very softly.

"Oh christ..."

"Good for Christ, but how do you like it?"

"A-a lot."

He was now conscious of her fist slowing down, of her bringing this exposition to a halt.

"You should get Rachel to do it then. Now... you need to do it back to her. Put your hand on my leg." She looked at her watch. "No. Damn. I can't. I've got to go to work. Could you come tomorrow?"

"Yes," he said without hesitating.

"Hmm... I don't know what Kate's doing."

"Oh. I do. She's going to a wedding this weekend and she won't be back in London till the evening."

"Good." She pulled up the zipper on her housecoat with a satisfied look, and herded him towards the stair. Her hand went into her pocket.

"There's the number for Rachel's mother," she said with a long hard look. "She... probably doesn't need to hear too much about what you've been up to." At this, she gestured with a jerk of her head back into the kitchen.

"Ah... okay. For the best, I guess."

"For the best. Now buzz off."

She saw him out.

"A bit earlier?" she suggested

"Two hours?"

"If you can, I can."

She watched him going down the path.

"Two hours. That should be enough," she murmured when he was out of earshot.

**********

Continues in Partial Insertion Pt. 02