Stories We Ruined Together Pt. 08

Author note:

To those of you who have read this far - thank you very much!! Great perseverance, haha. Especially thank you to those who have left feedback, honestly I wouldn't have kept going if no one was interested so it's very nice to see.

I wonder where this story will go, let's see....

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During that next week Ed and I saw each other twice, both times at the pub, for long conversations over hearty meals and wine. He told me about his previous career as a postman, and how he'd loved it but given it up when he moved up north, and never got back into it. I asked why he had moved, and he said it was to live with his then girlfriend, when she needed to come back up in order to look after her ill parents. He was vague on why it hadn't worked out with her, but I could understand that. Sometimes there is no clear reason, sometimes it all just falls apart and leaves us wondering what on earth happened. I gave him my impressions of Gareth and Mary, all positive, and he said that they liked me too, that I'd made a good impression and they wanted us all to spend more time together. That sounded good to me -- I needed more fun people in my life.

That second evening together, in that week, we went back to mine and fooled around for a while, making out on the sofa, touching each other in all the right places but only over our clothes -- like very well-behaved teenagers. It was unspoken but we both wanted to wait for the weekend, our little trip away. We both wanted it to be a bit special. I wanted him to feel the same desire I did, and finally I was beginning to believe he did, from the way he moved with me, the way he held on to me. Everything was coming together, and life felt colourful and happy.

Saturday finally came. On the train to the river town, we reviewed our plan. Arrive, check in, go for a nice relaxed lunch, and a walk in the pretty countryside. Then to the cinema, to see an independent film that we'd both been looking forward to. And after a light dinner, we would wait for cover of darkness, and walk down to the river. And toss ourselves in, just like Rosie in my book, with the boy she isn't sure about. I felt lucky in that, compared to my fictional character. I was going to do this stupid thing with someone I really was sure about.

Lunch was easy going, we laughed about stupid things, and didn't talk about the evening. During our walk I asked him if he thought it was dangerous, at this time of year, and he said he wasn't sure, but he didn't think so.

"It really is cold though. And when the sun goes down it'll be worse. I mean, I'm not saying we're going to die or anything, but I don't want to have to call an ambulance and waste anyone's time."

"We won't," said Ed, with a confidence that sprang from somewhere unknown to me. "We'll have towels and warm clothes with us, so as soon as we come out, we can get warm again and then walk quickly back to the hotel."

"Very quickly."

"Very quickly."

"Before we freeze to death."

"Yes, before that happens. It's only about three-hundred metres, we'll be fine. Some people do this kind of thing regularly, It's a hobby."

I put my arm through his, as we stepped over a log. The path was shrouded by trees and light struggled to arrive, but it was beautiful. "I'm glad we're doing it. I'm glad I'm here with you." I pressed my lips to his cheek and he smiled, stopped and kissed me warmly, with both hands in my hair. I liked it when he messed with my hair.

"Whatever happens, it's your fault for putting this in the book in the first place. What made you think of having them hop into a river at night?"

I had wondered this myself, and not worked it out. "I was just trying to think of something stupid for them to do. Something that wouldn't involve alcohol or other people."

"Well, I hate cold water, so it's definitely going to be an experience."

In the cinema we held hands and enjoyed watching the brainless action. Just like a real boyfriend and girlfriend. I felt that I could get used to this. Our fingers intertwined and I knew that, like me, he was enjoying our proximity, our contact, more than the film itself. During a dull scene I thought about condoms. Should I have brought condoms. He probably had some. Surely that was the man's thing. Not that it had to be. But surely he would have some.

We had dinner out, quietly and happily in a place full of couples and families, and then returned to the hotel. There, we lay on the bed side by side and for a time we were silent, just looking at the ceiling. This was a nice place, the room was spacious, classy décor of navy blue and forest green and flashes of amber that appeared golden. One wall was entirely a window, giving views out over trees and fields. But not of our lake, which waited hidden round the other side of the building. I rolled over a little so that I could lay my head on his chest, and listen to his heartbeat. Everything else was still.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked him, even though I hated it when people used that question on me.

"I was thinking how nice and warm it is here, and how little I fancy going out and walking through the cold and the dark to an icy lake, and then stripping off and throwing myself into it for no good reason at all."

"Cool, cool."

"But also I'm looking forward to it. Like I told you, I worry that I'm too boring. Not just for other people -- for myself as well. This kind of thing could be good for me."

"And I told you that you definitely aren't boring. But yeah, it'll benefit us, I'm sure."

"Not too late for you to back out."

"No way. No chance."

"Yeah, I didn't think you would. What time are we off? Does it have to be exactly midnight like in the book?"

"Nah, I don't think so." I felt at home there, in a room I'd never been in before. Like I had stepped out of my life but in the best way possible. "We can go at ten. Which is... in twenty minutes." He yawned and I took that as agreement. "Hey, we could do some more of those insecurity confessions."

"I don't know if I can think of any more. I must have buried all my really bad stuff deep deep down."

"Okay, well I've got one." I closed my eyes, somehow that made it easier to confess things. "I worry about going absolutely nowhere in life. I don't like my job, it's really boring and it doesn't seem to have any real importance at all. And I don't think my writing is good enough to ever be able to take further, to ever have like an actual following, a large amount of fans or anything like that. So I feel like I just don't have any... prospects. Yeah, that's how I feel, basically."

"But people read the things you publish."

"Yeah, some people do. I don't know how much they really care about it though, how much any of it actually means to them."

"You'd be surprised, I bet, about the affect is has on some people. And anyway, you've got to be patient with it, and keep going. I mean, do what you want to, obviously. Do what you think is best. But that's how it seems to me."

"Yeah." Almost everything he said was soothing to me, all of it worked, all of it sounded logical and reliable. We went back to happy silence, until it was time to go to the lake.

Very dark and very cold, the walk there. We slipped out of the hotel like criminals, and hand in hand we shuffled down the path to the small road, then followed that round the back of the hotel until it was intersected by the footpath. We walked the path of damp grass, beneath the spooky limbs of tall trees. We didn't say anything. Ed had a big rucksack with two large fluffy towels from the hotel, and the tracksuits we had packed. The plan was to dry off quickly and get straight into those clothes, then hurry back to the hotel and get right into a warm shower.

We arrived. The lake was smaller than I had expected. The path led onto a sort of gravelly, stony shore, at which the water licked and lapped. Ed set the rucksack down and walked closer, I followed, already shivering even beneath many layers of clothing. It looked black, the lake, and I was glad for the occasional faint sound of a distant car on the main road -- far away from us but enough to reassure me that we weren't really out in the middle of nowhere. It really was beautiful, in a strange and eerie way. There was something about seeing an expanse of water like this under the cover of an inky black sky. Something magical, being there together. Not quite like any experience I had ever had before.

"Last one in is a coward or something," Ed said, and began to very slowly untie his trainers. I steeled myself and set to work undressing more quickly, kicking off my shoes and wriggling out of my jeans, pulling off my coat and hoodie, then the t-shirt, underwear, and the night air bit at me suddenly and viciously. I swore loudly and Ed looked up from his slow progress with his laces, and told me he was impressed. I told him that he was stalling, and that I was freezing and about to die so please hurry the fuck up. He did so and soon we were both standing there in the nude, shivering and giggling, and then, taking my hand, he turned to the lake and started off towards it, hobbling barefoot across the stones, yelping and laughing and dragging me along with him. At the water's edge we paused, as if it would make any sense to back out now, and then looked at each other.

"Are you ready?" He asked me. I was ready.

"You know it. I just want to get this done. Let's go on the count of three."

"Let's go now!" Ed shouted, and off he went, dashing into the shallows, then a moment later wading, wading through deepening water, and I couldn't see his face, and watching him disappear into the lake was enough to push me into it myself. I stepped in -- one foot and then the other, and the iciness bit at my toes, but I forced myself forward as quickly as I could, and before my body could process the extreme discomfort I was in it up above my knees, and then suddenly to my waist -- it seemed that the lake bed had a steep dip shortly off shore, into which I plunged. Then the shock of it caught up, hit me hard and took all of my breath. I half fell, half threw myself forward, into a childish swimming motion, grasping crazily with my arms, rough and useless strokes that just churned up the water around me. A second later my ability to breathe returned, and I gained control of my swimming, turned it into a serviceable breaststroke and got my head up to look for Ed. There he was. Performing some sort of undignified doggy paddle, like a kid on his second swimming lesson. I wanted to laugh but found myself physically unable, so I just swam over to him. His expression wasn't clear until we were almost touching, so small was the piece of moon that night. He was smiling, happily, beautifully. I smiled back and went to kiss him. We bumped foreheads but got it right the second time.

I tried to say, completely redundantly, that it was so, so cold, but speech failed me. He nodded anyway, probably wanting to make the same obvious remark. I looked into his eyes and he looked into mine, and there was something pure about that moment, as my body calmed itself down and adjusted to survive, and my brain received a rush of positivity from achieving our weird little goal. I ducked my head fully under for fun, and Ed copied me. I reached out and put my hands on his shoulders, and he did the same. We stared at each other for a few seconds. Then he inclined his head to the shore, and we swam back.

Coming out was even worse than going in. The air hit my wet body and a second later I was shuddering -- real convulsions of cold, my jaw going of its own accord. Ed raced to the bag and got a towel around me, rubbed me all over with it before getting his own one on. Then back to the bag to retrieve the tracksuits, and he helped me into mine, both of us still unable to speak. Shoes on and he bundled our wet things into the rucksack and off we went, back up the path, speed walking it back to the hotel. Thankfully no one witnessed our return, and we laughed as we took the stairs two at a time, so happy to have done it and to be so close to warmth. Ed did a little 'I've lost the key card' routine at the door, but he was clearly too freezing cold to keep it up for long enough to convince me, and he opened the door and in we hurried. That room, gently heated as it was, felt heavenly, but what we really wanted was the shower.

"Let's get in there," Ed stammered, the first words either of us had managed since entering the lake. We stripped and stepped into the shower -- it was one of those big, luxurious walk-in ones, which had been Ed's primary reason for booking a more expensive room. He turned it on and the large rainfall shower head started up, a cascade of wonderful warm water, crashing over our frigid bodies, and I nearly shouted from the immediate bliss of it. For several minutes we were off in our own little worlds of recovery, close to each other but not quite touching, just allowing ourselves to recover decent core temperatures, and enjoying what felt like the ultimate luxury. I don't think I have ever enjoyed a shower more, and I suppose I probably never will, it really was that good.

When I was ready, I reached for Ed and he put his arms around me, we stood under the flow in a close hug. I felt the honey kiss of the water, I felt his supple skin, I felt the hot thick vapour of the room, closing in on us protectively. I felt his cock grow against me, to push at my navel. Resting my head on his shoulder, I massaged his lower back, and he responded, cupping the cheeks of my bum and gently squeezing them.

"I need you to want me," I whispered to him.

"I do," he said.

"Good." We broke our embrace, the humid heat of the shower was becoming too much. Into the warm room I went, and he followed, pushed me playfully down onto the bed. Wet skin on the bedcovers. He stood there, as if waiting for instructions, and I shuffled up the bed and opened my legs, to avoid any possible doubt. Then he did the right thing, positioning himself over me, elbows keeping his weight off me, our eyes meeting and relaying our mutual need. For a while we just kissed, lightly, then deeply, and he teased me, nudging his hard cock against my entrance, promising and not giving. But then he gave, he pushed into me, and with a sharp intake of breath I accepted him inside, took him wetly and willingly. And wow it felt good. It felt so good. I don't mind saying that, even after all that followed, all of the messed up things that happened. That really was an amazing moment, when we joined physically, and I was so, so turned on, wanting it so much, wanting him so much. And I knew that he wanted me.

At first he used shallow strokes. Testing the waters. Testing my responses. I squeezed his upper arm, took slow and deliberate breaths, as warmth spread through me. Bit my lip when he increased his pace, started to go deeper. Further into me. It all felt so right. I let myself go, let myself go into it, and it all felt so right. Until I remembered something. My eyes flashed open and I put my hands urgently onto his torso, stopped his movements, and his eyes were wide and fearful, wondering what it could be.

"We forgot the condom."

"Oh, wow. Well remembered."

"Better late than never," I said, and we parted awkwardly, him withdrawing and me slipping away from under him. He went over to his bag, fumbled for a minute, then raised his hand triumphantly. As he sat on the bed, and rolled it on, I swung my leg over him and pushed him down. "I'll drive." I lowered myself onto him, filling myself again, and he took hold of my hips, gently lifted me to start my rhythm, his head lifted so that he could see me, so that he could see his parts inside of mine, the happy joining. I could feel the condom and didn't love that, but I chased that from my mind, and moved, moved on him, knees on the bed, back arching and breasts pushed forward. His right hand left my hip and grabbed one, rolled the nipples between his fingers, and I rode harder.

I let myself go to the feeling. I let it guide me, I moved with it. I went harder when it told me to go harder, and I eased off when it asked for that. His breathing was thick. My eyes were closed and it filled my ears, the only other sounds were body meeting body, and my own escaping whimpers. He gripped my tits, one in each hand, and I began to grind on him, pressing my clit to his pelvis, rubbing, pushing myself further down the road, almost like I was just using him. He returned his attentions to my hips, encouraged me to rise from him, but I selfishly kept going, knowing I was close, and then I came, suddenly and hard, shouting it out, whole body quivering. I collapsed forward onto him. Tried to whisper an apology, knowing now how men felt when they finished sooner than intended, but the words didn't make it out. I lay on him, breathing hard into his neck.

He tolerated this for a moment, then smoothly turned me over, back onto my back, and when he looked into my eyes for permission I nodded. So he shoved his way back inside of me, clumsily, desperately, and all of his motions were quick, untidy, deep and lustful. It was his turn to be the user. Mine to be used. I wanted to help him, help him get there fast. I whispered filth into his ear.

"Fuck me like I'm your dirty little slut. Like I'm just here to be used. I'm your little bitch, you own me."

That brought things along nicely, he pounded into me a few more times, making me draw breath sharply, fingers in my hair and stubble against my cheek, and then he exploded inside, gasping. When it was all spent he shuddered, and withdrew carefully. We both looked down at the condom. In tact and unbroken, a job well done. We smiled at each other almost shyly, kissed gently, and then he excused himself to the bathroom to deal with the prophylactic.

The rest of the night was easy -- blissfully so. We just lay there together, intertwined. Naked physically. And I thought naked emotionally, but it turns out I was wrong about that. How much can we really show another person anyway, even if we tell ourselves that we do truly want to. Well, in any case, there we were. Together. Nothing was said, nothing needed to be. I could have said things. I could have said that it felt so good with him. That he was wonderful. That I wanted this to be my last first-time with someone. But speech would have spoiled it, so I didn't, and we looked up at the ceiling, looked at each other, shifted our positions, stroked each other's skin. I didn't want to fall asleep but eventually I had to. And it was deep, and dreamless.