Tending Lady Lovecome's Garden

Her orgasm is over in a blink. She hops off me, laughing, and skips about the room like a manic pixie dream girl.

Then gobbles me back into her mouth. She's making unhinged noises, like a ravenous dog, slurping and wanking me. Fuck, is this what she thinks Bash is like?

"Jane--"

"Fuck that's delicious. I need to suck your sexy cock more often--ymm!"

She's hunkered over me like a harpie, working me into her and I want to wrench my heart out and stamp on it. I am the worst--

Shit. No. My balls clench at an irrepressible rise. "I'm coming."

"Mm-hmm."

She hates cum. Even the sight of it. "Fuck. I'm really gonna come."

Jane's hand pistons. I arch off the floor. Swallow my roar with the fucked up notion it belongs to Bash now. But I come, anyway.

She goes still, her mouth suckered to my pumping head. She winces and grunts at each pulse I shoot into her.

As soon as my thrusts calm, even as I'm still pumping, Jane leaps up, and runs to the kitchen.

I hear a tap run. Spitting. Gargling. More spitting.

She comes back into the lounge with two glasses of wine, glugging hers and swilling. She swallows showily. "Fuck that was amazing." She puts a glass down beside me and kisses me tenderly. "I love your cum." She sniggers and scampers to the oven. "Steaks in ten!"

I can't do it. And perhaps that speaks volumes. If I can't break this woman's heart, then I must still love her. Her awkward efforts to please me have torn me up. I know she hates oral, yet she's doing it to keep me. That's love. I should give us another chance. Make more effort to please her.

I grow drowsy. My eyes are unbearably heavy. I'll sleep on it. I roll over. Drift off. Last time I dozed like this was on the lounger in Italy, after our epic sex. Bash rubbed sun-cream into my back. "Bash..." whispered the waves. "Bash..." A perfect afternoon, and best left there. A smile comes over me.

A stinging slap on the arse.

I jolt awake.

"Mother..." Slap. "Fucker!"

I jump to my feet, stumble over the clothes round my ankles.

Jane's cheeks are violet and streaked wet. "Get out." She claws her new hair. "Get... the fuck.. out."

I grasp my boxers to pull them up, but Jane lunges at me. "Wait. Look at yourself." She yanks me to the hall mirror. "Look!" She flings my bag at me. "Fucking look!"

The mirror shows a blinking idiot. A grim-faced, sunburned twat stood cock-naked in the hallway clutching a rucksack.

Jane growls, spins me.

Ah OK.

I've been branded on my right arse cheek, probably using sun cream, white-on-red: "Bash x"

I feel like a diary left for a grown up to find.