Sophia Pt. 03

With the memory men always seem to have of these things, Peter reminded her early in the holiday that she still owed him a blowjob. Sophia duly and dutifully obliged, teasing Peter expertly so as to delay his release for the longest time. As if to repay her, he then gave her oral sex but she was hardly stimulated at all. Peter asked if he was doing anything wrong. She could hardly tell him 'Everything', so she contented herself by fingering her clitoris and thinking of the Galician girl while asking him to 'lick her bone dry.' She came within a couple of minutes. Peter appeared satisfied. She was satisfied -- sexually, for the moment -- but she knew deeper needs remained unfulfilled.

'Please don't let me become a fully fledged lesbian, O God,' she prayed. 'I want us to stay a family. I want to be a good mother. I think I want to be a good wife. Should I go and fuck a man? Maybe that Italian? Adultery would be better than losing everything. Or would I be losing everything? Oh, please, help me God!'

'I'm okay with being bi,' she thought. 'Maybe this is all karma because I used to say that I didn't really believe bisexual people existed. You were either one or the other. "A man couldn't serve two masters", I used to say. Peter would always tell me, "No, give in to your gay side! I want to see you do it with a woman." Of course, he then wanted to join in -- fucking the other woman first, of course. God! I still don't believe in bi-ness. Which leaves me where exactly? A closet lesbian? Or - what do they call them? -- a lipstick lesbian?'

'Do I actually prefer talking to women rather than men? Well, I'm not so sure. Veronique would irritate me sometimes, to be honest, with all her stratagems and secrecy. When she opened up, sure, it was different, but I'm not convinced that that was the "real" Veronique any more than the sexual predator was. Would I honestly prefer to spend the rest of my days conversing with her rather than with Peter? No, no I wouldn't. So where does that leave me? Either I embrace chastity, or I live a secret life, using all measures to continue to deceive Peter. And what about the children? What effect will my actions have on them as they grow up? They will sense something. Maybe before Peter does. I won't be able to pull the wool over their eyes. So, what do I do?'

They returned to England and soon the children were back in their pre-school and Peter was back at work. Sophia had the best part of four weeks left before she would be rejoining the workforce. Valentýnka had agreed to start a week early so Sophia could show her the ropes and monitor how the children interacted with her. Sophia called Veronique one day and they arranged to have lunch at a place in Fulham.

It was strange meeting up with her again. She looked a little older and puffy around the eyes, as if she hadn't been sleeping well. She wasn't her usual self, either, neither flirtatious nor vivacious, and certainly not voracious. She told Sophia that she'd be in London for the next couple of months, while a property she had bought in Hurlingham was being redecorated prior to leasing it out. She said there were a few issues with damp and the like but nothing one wouldn't expect of a house built in the mid nineteenth century. She didn't mention where she herself lived and Sophia didn't ask her.

'You seem as if you have made some decisions about your life,' said the Frenchwoman.

'Not exactly,' replied Sophia, choosing her words carefully. 'But I have thought things through and I will try to manage my conflicting selves, if you follow me.'

'I follow you very well. You don't need me any longer, do you?'

Sophia suddenly understood what was at the heart of Veronique's pining. It didn't make her feel good. Part of her wished it wasn't so. Veronique had been the catalyst that released something in her. Now her work was done. It was a fact of life. Neither of them could do anything about it.

'Have you been with another woman since we parted?'

'No. I've wanted to. I suppose I've had the opportunity to, but I didn't follow through. I will, I know, but I wanted to think things through rather than blundering into situations that will hurt me and those around me.'

'So you will go underground?'

'I suppose you could put it like that.'

'And have you identified your next, er, liaison?'

'Yes. I think so.'

'Does she know?'

'I think so.'

'Don't abuse your power, little English rose. You have it in trust. You will be called to account for it one day. You will not be always young.'

'I know. I'm not sure if it's a power or an addiction. Something that will make me happy or an affliction. I never wanted it. No, that's not true; as soon as I was confronted with it, I wanted it. But I never went looking for it.'

'You are more beautiful now than you were when I met you. You have blossomed. Your confidence is sky high. Stay true to yourself and you will do more good than harm.'

Then, after a pause, she asked, 'Are you still sleeping with Peter?'

'Yes, but it isn't easy.'

'You think of other women?'

'Yes. Sometimes I think of you.'

'And sometimes of the new conquest you are lining up?'

'Yes.'

'Is she a lesbian?'

'Yes, I believe so.'

'Don't play with her emotions.'

'I think we are both going into it with eyes wide open.'

'She will probably fall in love with you.'

'Did you?'

'I have my pride, Sophia. I have my pride.'

'I know, I will forever be in your debt.'

'Don't go mushy on me now. Let's walk by the river and talk of other things. I need to regain my equilibrium -- I'm too old to be moping like a teenager.'