The Letter

This is a serious story, I would have liked someone to scan this over, unfortunately it didn't happen. As always, all mistakes are mine. This one is a little bit sad, not as sad as my 'The Diary' offering.

LJA

I arrived at the party with a four pack of Doom Bar amber ale, a four pack of Stella and a bottle of Shiraz. That should cover just about everything. I hadn't been invited, but my best mate, Brian, was going to be there with his long-term girlfriend Claire. And he'd asked me to go along. Well actually, he phoned me and asked if I would pop to the party and look after Claire, he had a problem at work and was going to be late. He didn't like leaving her alone with all those office lotharios.

I was single at the moment. It was a birthday party for a girl from Claire's office, she was a secretary for a local solicitor, one of quite a few, so it was expected there would be one or two unattached girls there. And it was cheaper to go to a party with a carry out than go to a pub on a Saturday night.

The front door was open, so I walked in and dropped my drinks in the kitchen, which was full of men and beer, I headed to find Claire. I could see her talking to a bloke in the corner of the living room. I saw him shrug his shoulders and walk away.

As I walked up to her, she smiled at me and said. "I'm glad you're here, Brians going to be a bit late, some sort of broken down delivery van or something."

I told her I knew that, as he'd asked me to keep her company. She touched me on the arm. "Thank you for that, I keep on being chatted up. Is there any chance you could fetch me a drink please; I'd rather not go into the kitchen; it would be like walking into the lion's den."

Brian was a transport manager for a local delivery firm and he'd phoned me saying he was going to be late as he was off to either fix a van or transfer the load to another one so the driver could finish his deliveries. He'd be with us as soon as he could, so could I look after Claire for him until he got there? He was a bit nervous about her being on her own. It was a party for a girl she knew from the office, so that shouldn't be a problem, she should be able to find someone to talk to. I thought he was being a bit paranoid, never mind, He was my mate and he asked, and I'd do it.

Brian and I had been friends since we started in Primary school at about four years old, so that was nearly 22 years or so ago and, we've been helping each other out along the way. He helped with my first broken heart when I saw my then girlfriend Sharon, kissing Charlie, he pointed out that we weren't exclusive, and anyway it was Charlie's 7th birthday party.

I helped him when he failed to get into the football team when he was 13 years old in grammar school, the Sports Master told him to come back next year when he was taller, fitter and faster. I commiserated with him, and we started going running together. The next year he got into the football squad, and he found he liked running as well. The running also helped me get a place as a winger in the school rugby team. We got into several scrapes together over the years, mainly about broken windows and being late to class because we were farting around. Setting fire to the dustbin behind the sports pavilion when we tried our first cigarette didn't go down well with the Headmaster. Two weeks detention plus extra homework looking into lung cancer put both of us off smoking for life.

The bullies decided it wasn't worth taking the two of his on and tended to leave us alone after a while.

College came along, Brian did business studies, I did accounting. Whilst in college we continued our sporting. I called him poncy because he ran round kicking a ball and falling over as if in pain. He called me poufy Neanderthal, because I ran around throwing myself for other men. And to be honest there's definitely a look of Neanderthal about most of the players I play with. With all this exercise Brian and I got quite fit.

Brian got himself a job as an assistant, assistant transport manager; which really meant office dogs body and driver when needed. I got a job as an assistant under accountant in a local engineering firm; which meant office dogs body and someone who could use a calculator and do the simple boring jobs.

Then cars and beer were added to girls, endless days of fun for two fit young lads.

Over the years his company found that Brian had a knack for organising, spotting potential to expand the business and to operate more efficiently. In a few years he was promoted to deputy transport manager. I found that numbers that were wrong just leapt off the page at me, whether in error or done on purpose to hide something, and after a few years I became deputy chief accountant.

I called him a noncy van balancer, I couldn't think of anything worse, he called me a Neanderthal bean shuffler, which wasn't far from the truth.

Then he met Claire, that was okay. It was always going to happen, we always knew we'd meet the girl of our dreams one day, and things would change, we'd talked about it. I just hoped it be me first that found the woman that I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I liked Claire, she was good for him. He wasn't quite so reckless; he was a bit more down to earth. It didn't hurt that she was very good looking. She was about 5 foot 6, long black straight hair parted in the middle, she was very pretty and when she smiled it lit up whole of her face. I know I shouldn't, but I must say the body looked pretty good too. They'd been going out for just over 2 years. She'd moved in with Brian about six months ago, but I'd heard a rumour she hadn't sold her flat, just rented it out.

I didn't very often get the chance to talk to Claire on her own, so I asked the question that's been playing on my mind for some time. "So, when are you two getting married then?" Subtlety wasn't a strongpoint of mine.

She looked a bit sheepish. "Brian's hinting, but I keep telling him I'm not ready yet." She looked me as if she'd let a secret out. "Don't get me wrong, I love him very much, he is kind, considerate, cute, funny and he's really, really nice."

I felt there was something missing, something she wasn't saying. "So why haven't you made a date yet? I've known him for the last 20 odd years he's a brilliant bloke, a brilliant mate. and I'm looking forward to being best man so I can have a go at some of your bridesmaids." She had got a bit serious, and I was trying to lighten the mood.

It didn't work, we were stood in the corner, so it was quiet, she turned to face me and put her hand on my arm. "Dave." She looked me straight in the eyes, that was a little unnerving. "I've known you for a few years now, so I know you can keep a secret, as brilliant as Brian is, there is something missing."

Now I was confused, I'd seen these two together for the last couple of years they were amazingly perfectly matched, it seems like they could always tell what the other one was thinking. I never know what a woman is thinking even after she tells me what she's thinking.

"It's just, well, that he's. Shit, this is so embarrassing."

"Surely you've got girlfriends you can chat to about this sort of thing?"

"Oh God no, I know what they'd say right now. But they're not in love with him, but at least you're his best friend."

I put my hand on hers. "Look you can trust me; I love you like family. Anything I can do to help."

"I don't know if you can, it's just that, oh shit, he's not very good." She whispered.

I just got more confused. "What do you mean?"

She just raised her eyes up to the ceiling. "You mean, oh you mean?" I discreetly pointed my finger upstairs where the bedrooms would be and then I whispered. "You mean in the bedroom?" She nodded her head.

She stood up slightly straighter, it was almost as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders by sharing. "Can you think of anything?"

What, how would I know. FFS. "Have you tried talking about it?"

"I've tried but he keeps shutting me down. I'm sorry, but I need more.

"David, I know you can keep a secret is there anything you can do to help me?"

She had her hand resting on my arm, I shook her hands off and took a pace back as if I'd been stung. "Well fucking hang on there, I'm his mate."

Now she looked confused, then she smiled. "No, no you silly boy. Not like that, I like you a lot, quite a lot. What I mean is can you talk to him, educate him, the rumours are, well, that you're not bad."

Phew I was relieved; I don't shag married women, well only the once, okay several times with the same one, but that wasn't my fault. She didn't tell me she was married, and she wasn't wearing any rings, and I certainly don't sleep with my mate's girlfriend.

"I don't know, I've never been asked this before. This is uncomfortable but, what actually is the problem." We'd spent enough time in the shower rooms together after matches to realise it probably wasn't an equipment size problem, he was about the same size as me flaccid. I assume he'd be about the same as me hard, yuk what a thought. Eeuw.

"It's like he knows he's not going to last long so he rushes it, he gets me there most times. And then it's all over and done with, it's not very satisfying." She had tears in her eyes now, "I love him, I need more of him, if you know what I mean."

"This is so unreal; I need another beer and you probably need another wine; I won't be two shakes." I just wanted time to think. I sent Brian a quick text to see how long he was going to be, I got a reply, he was on his way to their flat to get changed because he was dirty. He'd be about 20 minutes maybe less. That gave us 10 minutes to chat and five minutes for Claire to recover herself.

I got back and handed her, her drink. She finished half of it in one go. She told me she'd a text from Brian, he'd be about 15 minutes or so, I said to her, "right we've got 10 minutes, so it might be a bit crude, he gets you off, yes?"

"Yes, but only about half the time."

"And it's over and done with within 5-10 minutes, no long slow leisurely screws?"

"That's about it." I felt she was going to say something else, but I held my hand up. I had too much information in my head as it was.

"Foreplay, oral sex?"

She was looking really embarrassed now, not as half as embarrassed as I felt. But she started this. "I do Bj's," she said looking into her wine, "he's good with his fingers but he's not keen on returning the oral side if you know what I mean.

"When he spends time with his fingers is when I get off, but it's still, like there should be more." She didn't go any further, but I knew Brian wasn't her first, as in fact Claire wasn't his.

She touched me lightly on the arm. "If you could just get him to talk about it, that would be a start."

"Right, I'm going to go fetch him a beer ready for when he gets here, you go and repair your make up and I promise you, I'll think about it." I could see why she couldn't talk to her girlfriends; they'd just say dump him and find somebody else, but she loves him.

"OK, thanks," she looked up at me put a hand on my shoulder and give me a kiss on the cheek. "You're like the big sister I could chat to that I never had."

I waved my hands up and down my body as I towered at least three inches over her. "Big sister!"

"Okay, the Big Brother I could chat to that I never had. I'll have to start calling you 'big bro.'" She went off to the toilet to repair her makeup. I went and fetched some beers, two for Brian as he was behind us, and he'd probably need a beer.

He got there before Claire got back from the toilet. He'd grabbed two beers on the way through the kitchen, he got one for me so we couldn't shake hands, they were all full of beer. We had to do the man hug thing with beer in our hands. Just then Claire reappeared, I ended up trying to balance 4 beers whilst he gave her a proper hug and a big, long smouldering kiss. He apologised for being late and thanked me for looking after his girlfriend. He asked me to go out for a beer on Monday after rugby training to make up to me for him dumping her on me at short notice. I told him it's no problem, I liked her, anything for a mate. But as he was buying the beer, I was up for it.

He told us he would have been later but when they got halfway moving the load from one van to another the mechanic managed to get the original van started. So instead of moving everything back he split the delivery notices in half and sent the two drivers off. They could make up some time and probably have an early finish. Right now, he was here, and it was time for me to circulate and try to find some of these ladies that might be available. I chatted with a few girls, managed to dance with a few, even got a few slow smoochy ones. I swapped some phone numbers with a promise that I would phone them, but my heart wasn't really in it.

It was about half 11 when Brian and Claire came and found me to tell me they were going home. Brian was off on a course on Tuesday, so they had things to do. Brian grinned that silly grin he's got and winked at me. Oh dear. They asked if I wanted to share a taxi as they don't live far away from me. I declined, I'd let the love birds go and have their fun. Well one of them at least.

I stayed till the party started to die down and made my way home, still a little confused.

I met Brian in the pub about half seven on Monday, he dragged me over to a table instead of standing at the bar like we normally do.

He hit me with it, with no preamble. "I think Claire's seeing somebody else."

Fuck, "why'd' you think that?"

"Well, she wants more sex, and to try other things. I thought we were OK. We do it two or three times a week at least, but she wants more."

"Sorry mate can't see the problem with that."

"it's almost like its guilty sex; I don't know; I can't put my finger on it."

"What other things does she want to try?"

"Licking, you know down there."

"That's brilliant, what's wrong with that, fill your boots, mate."

"No, it's horrible, it stinks awful and tastes nasty."

I couldn't believe that; Claire was quite hygienic, and she always smelt nice.

"No, it's brilliant, it's almost as good as a cold pint of bitter on a hot summer's day, warmer of course."

"No, it's all fishy and skanky."

"Doesn't she shower?"

"Of course she does, don't be daft."

"So why does she stink down there if she's just come out of the shower?"

"If I do it then she tastes of soap, and then it gets in my mind's eye of blowing soap bubbles up her... oh shit I'm going to stop, but you know what I mean. And I hate the taste of soap."

I could understand that, we'd both been caught swearing in our first year at school and we'd had our mouths washed out with soapy water. That was awful.

He paused. "I've only, you know, gone down... a couple of times with Claire, but it reminds me of Sharon White."

"You mean Sharon 'pongy' White?" Now, that would put you off? Sharon stank all the time, all over. I'd never gone down there on her; in fact, I'd never touched her that way at all. But I imagine it would smell quite awful, it did up top.

"No sorry mate you've got this one wrong the taste of a lady down there is fantastic. If you don't mind me asking, how are you doing it?"

Shit why would these two be talking to me, why aren't they talking to each other?

He told me he liked to play with his fingers without expanding and when he went down 'there' she tasted of soap and that was almost as bad as Sharon White. I explained that whilst I wasn't an expert at it, I did find that as long as the lady rinsed well down there, it shouldn't taste of soap.

I told him when I was with the married lady, I'd discovered that if you used your fingers and got them, how can we say, wet, well lubricated, moist after they'd had a shower and rinsed well, it would taste fine. The ladies' natural flavours took over and that was a lovely taste.

I told him the story of Katie, the married woman who used me as a toy boy. Oh, I wasn't complaining about being used as a toy boy. I was complaining that she had told me she was divorced, she wasn't, he was In the Navy and was away a lot. Apparently, that's why she always came to my place, and I never went to hers. I found out when she turned up one day and she'd forgotten to take her wedding ring off. It was in the days when I didn't check for a white band or a dent on the third finger of the left hand.

Anyway, she wouldn't let me touch her down there as soon as she got in from work, she would shower first, it could then take a couple of hours before we got down to business, she didn't get time to get sweaty down there so when I when I managed to get her moist the taste was fresh. The better the food tasted, the better the meal.

I was red with embarrassment now, but at least I had an insight of what Claire had told me.

"Listen mate this is a bit embarrassing for me so here goes. When Claire gets in and has a shower, just give it a couple of hours and then get down to business, but let your fingers do the walking, and do a lot of walking and I mean a real lot of walking." I dropped my head into my hands, I couldn't believe I was doing this, but carried on whispering. "Look mate this is embarrassing it's almost as bad as hearing your mum and dad have sex." But I carried on. "When she gets a certain level of, how can we say, moist, lubricated, damp, wet. oh, fuck you know what I mean. That is when she will taste the best, well in my experience anyway.

"But this is what I do, it works for me, you'll have to work out for yourself what works for you two. I let my fingers do the walking and my tongue do the talking until she's had at least one, if not two or even three of those things that women have, you know."

He looked at me and whispered. "Orgasm."

I nodded and carried on. "Well, when she's a few of those things, I go straight in and give it to her hard, if she hasn't come down too much it's not difficult to give her another one of those things you just mentioned. Now if I want to take my time for a long slow one, and I'm getting too close I have a couple of techniques to slow me down. I clench my bum cheeks together, or dig my fingernails into my skin, pain normally slows things up for me. If I'm really desperate I think of Margaret Thatcher or the Queen. That really slows me down."

He nearly spilt his beer. "Mate that would stop me not slow me down." I could see him think a bit "But you like Margaret Thatcher and the Queen."

"Yes, but not as bedpartners you prat.

"That generally gives me enough time to get another one out of her. That's how I do it mate; how you do it is up to you, my secret is the fingers walking tongue talking approach. But for Christ's sake mate you at least need to talk about it. You need to be able to talk in a marriage if that's where you're heading?"

I went to the bar; I know he said he'd pay, but I needed to stretch my legs and think about something else. Whilst at the bar I came up with a cunning plan. When I got back, I suggested to Brian that as he was away for a couple of weeks and home at the weekend it was a good time for him to do some research. But not the hotel late night adult viewing, I told him not porn, or he would end up watching latex lesbian bondage or something like that. Yes, that would be interesting, but it might not help. I suggested he use the time to use his laptop and Google stuff like 'how to improve your sex life' or 'how to drive your women crazy in bed'.

I then came up with another idea. Whilst he was away and as I had quite a few hours of flexi time off which I had to use or lose. I would keep an eye on Claire discreetly on her lunchtime. She goes to a hotel not far from where she works, she was a member of the gym there, so I could check there was no hanky pancky going on there. I could also keep an eye on their flat. I was happy to do that because I was absolutely certain she wasn't doing anything. He seemed to like the idea and it put his mind at rest.