Susan

"Ah, right..." I said, smiling. "So this 'Paranormal consultancy thing? It's for real?"

"It's for real," said Susan. "But I'm always invited to participate as the resident 'party pooper'. It's my job to pour scorn on the Team's findings, maybe get them to be a bit more critical, a little more willing to look for a more rational explanation."

"And? Does it work?"

"Sometimes," said Susan. "But mostly... that's it really. I'm the in-house, State-registered, semi-Official Buzz Kill."

"But that's not the real reason I'm here," added Susan, her expression shifting.

"And that is?" I asked.

Susan pulled her legs up and under her, perhaps adopting a defensive posture.

"And no, nothing to do with my academic work, or my TV work," said Susan, her speech slurred somewhat. "I'm actually 'on the run', so to speak."

"Err, okay," I whispered. "As in... The 'recently escaped from prison' sort of 'on the run' or something else?"

"Something else entirely," said Susan. "I'm escaping, or rather have escaped from, a relationship gone horribly, horribly wrong."

"I'm familiar with those," I said, pouring her another glass. "Sadly..."

"You know, I'm quite, quite drunk," said Susan. "This stuff is apt to make me go a little loopy..."

"So what's this relationship?" I asked. "And how did it go all wrong?"

"It's a relationship," she said. "They all go wrong, sooner or later..."

"Indeed, they do," I said. "It's just a matter of time before the inevitable."

"So, go on," I said. "Tell me. I'm a sucker for a good old -fashioned bad relationship story."

And so Susan began. I've written down her tale of woe verbatim so what follows is in her voice rather than mine.

Around five years ago, not long before my husband passed, I met this guy, we'll call him Ian to save him some blushes. He works in broadcasting. You've probably seen him on the TV at some point in the last five or six years. Anyway, Ian and I really hit it off but, at this point, my husband, Vernon, was in a bad, bad way. Cancer, I'm afraid, so we, as in Ian and I, never took our friendship to the next level. That would have been a bit shit. And cruel, too because... I wasn't in a good place. Not at all. That said, Ian never tried it on and was the perfect gentleman. He stayed close and was incredibly supportive throughout the whole grim period, when nothing seemed to bring Vernon any relief and especially so when Vern was close to the end. Vernon and Ian actually became friends, strange as it may seem. Not a hint of jealousy. Mind you, Vernon knew he was finished at this point. I think Vern and Ian had a kind of understanding. Ian backed right off any kind of approach, insisted that he was there to help and not be the kind of bastard to make Vernon's last few months a misery.

And Ian was incredible after Vernon died. Really incredible. A total gentleman. We were never an item, so to speak, but when he asked me out around a year after Vernon skipped off into the twilight, I realised we were an item and we'd been an item, a couple, for quite a long time. We went everywhere together, did everything together, even holidayed together. And it was good.

Ian had been in several long term relationships and none of them had come to anything. He was alone and didn't have any children so, given he was well past seventy, I think he was looking over his shoulder a little. The spectre of the Grim Reaper moving closer, I think. He was looking for a soul mate and I'm fairly certain he found that in me.

Now, Ian was a thorough gentleman. Never once propositioned me until I started to feel like... now was the time to get back in the saddle, so to speak, and screw this lovely man. And we did, and it was lovely, and he had a nice big... dick... if you forgive my bluntness... and we started to enjoy a bit of a sex life. Vernon was okay in bed. Not very adventurous although I think that was because, in the early days of our relationship, we'd make love and I'd find myself pregnant about thirty minutes later. Our last child, Marcus, was conceived after just one night of playing around. We never did it again because I'm convinced that Vernon was frightened of even getting the end wet in case he ended up with yet another mouth to feed.

Ian was a fitness freak. Even at seventy, he was a bit of a gym bunny. Incredibly fit and very, very proud of his physique. He'd go to the gym at least three times a week and he'd spend a lot of time with his friends casually lifting weights and working out, and I know he spent a lot of time in the sauna and in the pool. Frankly, I think he was more than a little fond of a bit of man-on-man action. It was that kind of environment. He admitted that he'd sucked a cock or two in his time, and he found it quite enjoyable, but maintained that he preferred the ladies.

And then, about a year ago, Ian met someone else, Janet. Janet was lovely and we got on very well indeed, even to the point of all three of us going on holiday to France, which was just gorgeous. I wasn't at all jealous when Ian said he'd love to jump in the sack with Janet, maybe enjoy a threesome if I was up to it. And, of course, being curious, I said yes. Not gonna lie about it. I wanted to enjoy myself. So I did.

Two nights later, Janet, Ian and I just happened to find ourselves in the same room, all slightly drunk and, well, Ian started showing off a bit. He took his shirt off so that Janet could admire his torso, which was very impressive I should add. And then Janet asked to see more so his pants came off and, wow, just wow. Even in silly boxers this guy was amazing. Yeah, I'd seen it all before but... Just wow.

Then the boxers came off and we all started to laugh because here's this naked guy in front of us and his dick is getting pretty big. I've seen a very, very small number of cocks in my time so I didn't have much idea of what to expect but this thing was a bloody monster. I asked him how he ended up with such a huge penis and he said "I pump..." I didn't know what that meant so I looked it up later and he'd been using a penis pump to make his dick bigger. I asked him how long he'd been using it and he said something like fifty years.

"I hope you don't mind me talking like this," said Susan. "Because I'm well pissed and I just tend to let go..."

"I'm fine," I said. "And I really want to hear how this ends..."

Off she went again, this time her speech very slurred. I've edited out the repeated words etc. I need to point out that, at his point, I was seriously horny. I'd dumped my t-shirt and was sitting under my blanket topless, and touching myself up more than a little.

"So... I grabbed Ian around the waist and dragged him closer. I wanted to get really close to that thing so that... I could feel it up for myself. Seconds later, I was out of my blouse and then topless, and then I had Ian's... in my....mouth... I do hope this isn't too shocking for you...

Janet? She joined in without any kind of apprehension and... It didn't take long. Janet was naked in next to no time and then kneeling next to me on the floor. You know, I don't think I'd seen another naked woman, I mean fully naked, up close and personal, since I was in the showers at school and that had been fifty years ago.

We started taking turns sucking Ian's cock and he just couldn't have been happier. I started touched Janet up a bit, too. That's when I realised I had to go freshen up down there. I was a bit... ripe...

I went to the bathroom, had a quick wash, had a pee, had another quick wash and then returned to the action. I walked in and... I found Janet sitting in an armchair, one leg hanging over the side, the other leg way up in the air and, between her thighs, there was Ian with his cock buried in her just about as far as it would go.

I was stunned. Really stunned, partly because I'd never seen two people having sex before but also because it was readily apparent, and I mean really, really bloody obvious, that Ian knew her body very well indeed. He knew what she liked and how she liked it. He knew just how to push and where to pull and the only reason he knew that was because he'd been screwing her for months, possibly years.

I made up my mind in a trice that Ian was history. He had said, on many, many occasions, that he'd never had the pleasure of Janet but ... Na. He lied to me. A bare-faced lie and I can't stand deceit.

Did I leave straight away? No, I didn't. I wanted one last ride on that pony. I wanted a good hard fucking, maybe my last ever good hard fucking. A gal has to think of such things, you know? What if you've already had your last really good hard fuck? It's a deeply philosophical subject, said no one ever. But it is, when you think about it.

What did I do? I simply tweaked my nips to make them good 'n' hard and rubbed my pussy so that it was as wet as possible, and then I dragged Ian away from Janet. I pushed him onto the nearest bed then I did what I've only ever done once or twice before - I sat on him, cowgirl style, and fucked him until Janet flopped down beside me and asked if she could have another go before he popped.

"Sure," I said and off she went. Actually, that part was good fun because Mr. Cool just wasn't in control any more and. I kinda liked that...

And when I reckoned he needed a rest, I pushed Janet off him and went down on her. I've done that once before, years ago at University, when I had a thing for a girl in my Halls. And I enjoyed it... A little bit of oral fun with a lady friend.

Janet and I tried to do a sixty nine but we just couldn't. I hurt my neck straining to plant my lips on her pussy and, when she flattened herself against me, her weight fair well made it impossible to breath so I rolled her off me, rolled her on her back and got between her thighs.

Susan paused. "I'm sorry," she said. "I've said too much. Far too much. I'm drunk."

"No, please," I said. "I'm seriously getting off on this. I want to know how this ends."

"Sure? Okay..." said Susan downing the last of her wine, and visibly swaying in her seat.

Well, I brought Janet off. Dunno how, because I'm no expert with Lady bits and... I was very, very horny. All I really remember was flopping back on the bed, raising my legs up in the hair, spread them as far apart as I could and basically told Ian to fuck my brains out. So he did. I mean, his cock was in me so far it hurt. Pounding away, grinding hard up against my belly, this huge, huge dick kept flopping out, the big purple end splitting me in two each time he slipped inside. And I came. Man, did I come? Over and over again, to the point that I was sitting in a puddle. Janet was watching from one side, egging him on, and when I'd screamed the roof down twice, Ian hopped off me and did much the same to Janet. Then I figured, "Yeah, Viagra". Later, he said he'd taken a full tablet instead of just the quarter tablet he usually took if we were doing stuff.

When he still wasn't even close to coming, Janet and I lay side by side on the end of the bed, our legs in the air and spread wide, and Ian took to deep diving the pair of us. And all the while, Janet and I are kissing each other and feeling each other up, and I'm rubbing away at her clit to the point that she's sore and can't come any more, and then... Wham... Ian gasps... once, twice, three times and... fuck... I thought "He's having a bloody heart attack..."

"No, he does this all the time," said Janet. "Nothing to worry about."

And that was it. My suspicions had been confirmed. He'd been fucking Janet and me at the same time for years, even before Vernon died. I felt awful. Used. Lied to. It was a major boner killer, if you'll forgive the term. And I just knew I had to get out of there.

That was three weeks ago and I've been on the move ever since. Charlie was kind enough to offer me a place to stay. And here I am.

"There," she said at last. "That's my story. I hope I didn't shock you but... I'm drunk and you're the first person to actually sit patiently and listen without interrupting and, unless I'm mistaken, judging... I'm sorry if I just dumped that lot on you..."

"Wow," I said. "Well, yeah. That was quite a ride. And thank you for being so frank. As for judging anyone? Never. I'm just pleased, genuinely happy, that you felt able to be so open and so honest."

"Honesty really is the best policy, I find," said Susan.

"And I'm afraid I may have disgraced myself a little..." I whispered.

Susan looked puzzled. "Disgraced? What do you mean?"

"My knickers, " I said. "They appear to be somewhat damp..."

Susan laughed.

"Soaking actually," I added.

"Soaking? Really? Was it that arousing?"

I laughed out loud. "More than... I'd be lying if I said otherwise."

"Well, that's two of us," said Susan. "And it was very, very intense. And, if you don't mind, I'm just going to take them off any let them dry a bit. Because..."

I burst out laughing. "Well, I tossed mine fifteen minutes ago."

"You did? I didn't notice."

"You had your eyes shut," I said. "And you were on a roll."

It was Susan's turn to laugh out loud. "Well, yes, I was, wasn't I?"

I picked up what was left of my wine and downed the last couple of drops that were clinging to the bottom of the glass. "I've had more than enough. I need water. You?"

Susan nodded. "Please..."

I stood up, let my blanket fall and... well... I let Susan savour the goodies. She couldn't help but stare as I stood in front of the fire, naked, hands on hips, smiling, totally owning the moment. Yeah, I said I was seriously horny and I wasn't kidding.

"Oh my," whispered Susan. "This is an unexpected development. Not entirely unwelcome though..."

"You seriously got me buzzing," I said.

"I guess I did," she replied, smiling from ear to ear.

I skipped off to the Dining Room and returned a few minutes later with two bottles of mineral water, chilled to perfection.

I found Susan along the couch, legs outstretched, naked. My heart, quite literally, skipped a beat.

"Your husband? He doesn't mind such adventures, does he?" asked Susan.

"Not at all," I replied.

"Really?"

"We have an agreement. An understanding," I said. "He's okay if I dabble with the ladies but not with other guys, obviously. And I really don't want any other guys. He's kinda special so... I play by the rules."

I flopped back down at the other end of the couch and leaned in towards Susan's outstretched form.

"I love your house," said Susan, smiling, her legs gently parting. "Victorian?"

"Built in 1875," I said. "Same as Charlie's."

"Thought so," said Susan. "And this one contains the Masonic Temple, right?"

"How did you find that out?" I asked, slightly taken aback.

Susan smiled. "The benefits of retaining your academic links," she said. "I still have access to resources unavailable to the General Public."

"I do hope you have a decent library," she said.

"I do," I replied. "But I also have a fairly indecent library, too."

Susan burst into a fit of giggles. "Now that, I would like to see..." she said.

I noticed that she was unconsciously, or perhaps consciously, touched her pussy. A shiver ran up and down my spine. I reached across and touched her leg, smiling, once again, testing the waters.

"What time is it?" asked Susan. "I really ought start thinking about bed. I've been up since five."

"It's, err, eleven forty five," I said squinting at the wall clock.

"And I need to pee," she said. "Where's the Thunder box?"

"Downstairs toilet is out there and second on the right," I said. "But watch out for spiders. Upstairs toilet? Just go to the top of the landing and turn left."


Susan stood up and, well, there you go. I have (yet another) naked woman in my house. This is habit-forming.

I wondered what I was doing. "Is this wise?" I said to myself. "She's Charlie's God Mother. What if Charlie finds out? Will she mind? Of course she'll mind. Who wouldn't? Then again, Susan is also a consenting adult and Charlie doesn't appear to be particularly religious..."

"Hey, one chance. One life. Live it," I whispered to nobody in particular, least of all Sam, who was spark out in front of the fire. Plus I hadn't had sex in over two months, thanks to our various business schedules, family visits and, of course, the ultimate cock-blocker himself, Theo.

I figured I was due some action.

Susan returned to the Lounge, swaying a little as she went. "Yeah, just a bit drunk," she said. "But I'm good."

She flopped down on the couch and soon adopted her former position, sitting up, legs outstretched. Comfortable for her but not entirely conducive to making the Sex happen.

"So how did you come by this place?" she asked, edging a little closer.

"My ex-partner, Beast, left it to me," I said. "I was in a band twenty odd years ago and, to cut a long story short, it ended badly. We split, I came back to England, got clean and put the whole experience behind me. I got a proper job and joined the Corporate Dream. Then, four years ago, Beast turned up on our doorstep. He was ill, actually very ill, and he'd hit a real rough patch. He was homeless and broke, so we fed him, gave him a place to sleep for a couple of days and, when he got his act together, he went on his merry way and we parted as friends. I'd moved on and was incredible happy, and the whole band thing was so long ago that I hadn't realised that I'd already forgiven him for being such a total douche bag. Alas, I didn't fully realise how ill he was and he died a couple of months later.

As a thank you for helping him when he was at his lowest, we soon discovered that he'd changed his Will in our favour. Not that he had any family left to leave anything to. They were either dead or had dumped him, and he said he felt bad that I'd been left crippled by a monumental tax bill. He wanted to make up for his shitty behaviour."

"Wow..." whispered Susan.

"Alex and I inherited his Company," I said. "And this house. Cost a fortune to fix up but it was worth it. I love it. It's a dream come true."

I rather self-consciously pulled my blanket up around my neck and downed the last of my water in one go. "Hey ho. Such is life," I whispered.

Susan pulled herself upright and then edged along the couch so that we were practically touching.

"Indeed, hey ho, here we go..." I thought. "If she doesn't make a move then I will..."

And she did. No fuss. No nonsense. Just slid her hand under my blanket and let it rest on my belly.

"This is nice," she said, smiling, her head resting on the sofa just inches from mine. "I can't remember the last time I was able to have a sensible conversation about... anything really... without being interrupted or talked down to or both."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Oh, colleagues, friends, children," said Susan, her voice becoming softer and more muted. "They always know best even when they don't. And kids, too. You'll get that a lot as they get older. They know everything. Absolutely everything except how to flush a toilet, operate a washing machine and balance a cheque book. All of mine, all four of them, are utterly hopeless where money is concerned. If I hadn't learned to say 'No' then they'd have bankrupted me years ago."

I smiled very gently.

"And you," said Susan in a whisper. "You're so kind, so thoughtful. You could, so very easily, have just driven past and ignored me. Lots of others did, even though they could see I was having a miserable time of it."

"Interesting, isn't it?" I said. "I really believe in 'Paying it forward'."

"You've heard of Jung's theories about Synchronicity, right?"

I nodded. "Of course," I said. "I practically live by that rule. 'Be the energy you want to attract'. 'Be fab and groovy', that's what Beast was always saying. And, by and large, it worked."

"And look what happened, eh?" said Susan, smiling.