Victoria's Second Secret

'Thirty minutes,' Hev said as we got out of the taxi. 'Thirty minutes and it'll be snowing blankets.'

'What if we get snowed in?'

'Snowed in a pub?' She laughed. 'I'm Lucky Heather, but I've never been that lucky!'

I had a wary glance around the car park. Parking in Morton was notoriously tricky. My ex didn't have a reserved slot so always parked courtesy of the pub. And she always went in for a drink or two every day, by way of paying "rent".

Her car wasn't in its usual slot.

There again, I hadn't a clue what she was driving these days and it was a very busy boozer. Any one of the dozens of parked up motors could be hers.

We went inside and turned right, passing through the middle bar, me recognizing a few faces as I went, returning one or two nods and smiles. We both caught the odd lusty leer, too.

'I'm going for Landlord,' Hev announced. 'Are you joining me or are you playing the girl?'

I didn't bite. Putting my head close to hers I told her she was playing the girl later, big-time.

She laughed and said okay.

Picking one of the few free tables we sat, Hev on a bench-like affair, me perched opposite her on a low barstool (you know the sort: the ones with heavy cast iron legs that proliferate in pubs in the north of England).

'Did I ever tell you about Bluey?' Hev began.

I sipped Shiraz and shook my head. I knew Bluey was Oz slang for a red-haired man, but couldn't recall hearing the tale. And I would have remembered; very few of Hev's tales featured men.

'I was alone in Sydney,' she went on, 'in the biggest traffic jam ever seen outside of Calcutta, and my freaking campervan blew a gasket . . .'

Then she stopped abruptly and said, 'Get a load of those two.'

I guessed she wasn't referring to guys so craned my neck to have a look.

And I nearly died.

There were two young ladies at the bar. One was a tall blonde with straight hair down to her sexy ass, her perfect figure perfectly displayed in tight black leggings. The other was much shorter and resembled Velma out of Scooby-Doo.

Fuck.

It was her.

It was my ex.

It was Dave.

And I swear she felt me looking at her. Her head turning slowly, like the little girl in The Exorcist, she finally met my gaze.

(Big correction at this point: Velma does not look even remotely like a demon-possessed child. In fact Dave doesn't really look like Velma either. Her glasses are very similar and her hair is about the same colour, but much shorter. And that's about it for resemblances. Dave would never wear a skirt and turtleneck sweater. She hadn't been "born with a mystery book in her hand" and she'd never say "jinkies". It's just something about her . . . maybe her startlingly bright intelligence.)

The blonde was stunningly shaped but faded beside flat-chested Dave.

Yes, that same Dave who delighted in being mistaken for a boy.

Yes, that same Dave who split with me more than once in increasingly terrible circumstances.

That last split had been the worst. Harsh words had been exchanged. I had even revenge-fucked her new girlfriend out of sheer spite.

And here we suddenly were, bare yards apart, staring at each other.

That stare could only have lasted seconds but seemed like forever. I altogether forgot about Hev and returned it best I could.

Then Dave said something to the blonde and walked towards me.

Oh fuck, she wanted confrontation.

Or perhaps she did not.

'Hi Katrina,' she said, unsmiling yet civil, 'fancy seeing you here.'

Wincing inwardly at the use of my "Sunday Name", I answered her equally civilly. 'Hi Dave, you're looking good.'

Talking about looking good, Dave's eyes had moved onto Hev.

'This is Hev,' I said, spluttering a little, perhaps embarrassed to be introducing two lovers.

Old and new, my brain yammered, borrowed and blue.

'You're Heather Hunter,' said Dave, surprising me.

Hev nodded. 'You're Davina from the Widget Company. You were very helpful in that partnership project the other year.'

Oh shit, don't say my two lovers had already fucked each other!

Fortunately, they hadn't.

At least they hadn't unless they were actresses on the scale of Judi Dench.

'Anything but Davina,' said Dave, 'please!'

'Hiya,' said the blonde, crossing the room and shoving a medium-sized glass of white into Dave's hand.

'This is Lizzie,' Dave said by way of introduction.

'Lizzie the Lezzie,' the blonde said, giggling uncontrollably, 'I'm out loud and proud.'

In all honesty she couldn't have been much louder. Never mind throughout the pub, people must have heard her down in Bingley.

Like two miles away.

To my amazement Hev didn't recoil at the girl's brashness. She offered the blonde a clenched fist and said, 'Yes, and me too. Sadly my name doesn't rhyme.'

Still giggling, Lizzie bumped knuckles.

Then Hev turned to Dave who immediately returned her fist bump.

'Solidarity sister,' Hev said. And then she burst into a storm of giggles of her own. 'I haven't said that in years,' she admitted.

'Sounds like you say it every day,' Dave countered. 'It sounds good.'

Nobody seemed to want to bump fists with me. I did briefly consider offering my knuckles to Dave but held back. As I said earlier, our last break-up was not amicable. I couldn't rule out the chance she might ignore my hand and knuckle-rap my nose instead.

'Join us,' Hev invited.

I made to scuttle across and sit beside her but was too slow. Before I knew it Lizzie was sitting at my side and Dave was on the bench next to Hev, gazing into her emerald greens, yarning away about partnerships of old.

Chapter Four

Lizzie listened to Dave and Hev for perhaps thirty seconds before yawning ostentatiously.

'Talking shop on a Saturday afternoon,' she said to me. 'We can do better, can't we? Let's talk about us. Tell me about you.'

Before I could oblige, she was off.

Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit!

I hate to admit it but her words were in one ear, out of the other. Could that girl chatter! I suppose that she said things of great interest but can't remember even one. Well, maybe not true. She told me she was "weekending" with Dave and enjoying it very much.

Looking at Dave and Hev, I suspected her weekend might be shorter than she'd planned, and so might mine.

What had Vic said about Hev and Mamma? Something about buckets of water being needed to get them apart, wasn't it? It seemed like Hev and Dave were headed the same way.

Now Dave showed no sign of sensing my attention. Her eyes were all on Hev, her body language to say the least, friendly.

Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit, went Lizzie, rabbit, rabbit, rabbit.

How the fuck do I get myself into these situations? I wondered. How am I going to get out of this one?

And why are my nips so hard?

Conscious Lizzie had noticed I helped myself to an eyeful of her. She wasn't exactly dressed for the weather: her low-cut top showed off melon-sized tits. And yes, her nips were standing out too; loud and proud, like the girl herself.

Tearing my eyes off her chest, I looked out of the window. It was snowing now, slightly ahead of old Farmer Hunter's forecast. Snowing but not settling.

At least it wasn't settling yet.

Snowed in a pub with these two, I thought, omigod, no.

Next thing I knew Dave was on her feet. 'Landlord,' she said, pointing to Hev's empty glass.

'I've got a tab,' Hev replied, 'I'll get them.'

'No you won't,' said determined Ms Dinkley, 'you can get the next round, but I'm getting this.'

And that was that. She strode off to the bar like a woman on a mission.

Me? She hadn't asked and I didn't really expect her to buy me a drink. Come to that she hadn't asked Lizzie either. On the face of it, we'd been ditched. The future was all Dave and Hev.

Changing tack, Lizzie indicated Hev's pint glass. 'Is that a statement?'

Again Hev surprised me. Instead of barking the blonde out like a hapless young private on a parade ground, she grinned.

And what a grin!

'We take turns,' she said. 'Kat's going to be doing all the shagging this afternoon. I'm going to be a good little girl. No, I'm going to be a very glad little girl.

'You're not butch and femme, then.'

'Only on an alternating basis, if you know what I mean; a frequently alternating basis. And what I drink doesn't come into it. I drink pints because I like beer; it is as simple as that.'

Lizzie giggled. 'A girl after my own heart,' she said.

Meanwhile Dave returned, bearing a fresh Landlord for Hev and another medium-sized white for her girlfriend. Determined to remain emotionless, I swigged the last of my red.

I'll go get my own, I told myself. I'll show the cow what's class and what's not.

But I didn't have to. Dave went back to the bar and returned with a fresh white for her and a large red for me.

'Cheers,' she said, handing me my drink.

Our fingers touched and the unexpected bolt of electricity was beyond awesome.

Dave didn't seem to feel it. She sat back in her place beside Hev and resumed their conversation.

So did Lizzie with me.

Wild, all-girl parties were her speciality, if I remember correctly. The sort with no strangers, just a lot of hot, horny babes who hadn't yet met . . .

Then, only a few minutes later, Hev was away to the bar. Dave was away to the ladies' rest room.

And Lizzie changed like a chameleon.

'She's madly in love with you,' she told me. 'There's no escaping it. She goes on about you all the time.'

Bemused, I raised a (hopefully) sexy eyebrow.

'Who is?' I wondered.

'Who do you think? I mean the girl who worships your very footprints.'

'Nah,' said I, 'Hev's just a mate.'

'Not Hev; I'm talking about Dave.'

My disbelief must have been apparent.

'Sincerely,' said Lizzie. 'And please, don't think of me as a rival. I like screwing with Dave but we aren't ever going to be an item. We're friends with benefits; nothing more to it.'

I frowned even deeper. Lizzie didn't exactly feel like a rival but she was fucking Dave. And was I starting to feel jealousy?

Hmmm, maybe I was.

'Dave talks in her sleep,' Lizzie continued. 'You'll know that, won't you?'

I nodded. Too right she did. I'd heard her come out with all sorts.

'More often than not she talks about you,' said Lizzie. And last night he cried out your name when she . . . Well, when she had her biggest and best orgasm. I don't think she realizes she did that. And I'm sure she doesn't know what she says in her sleep.'

'We're history, Lizzie,' I said evenly.

'You can still be friends. And it could be to your advantage.'

'What do you mean?'

The blonde hastily checked to ensure the coast was still clear, which it was. Hev was chatting to a man at the bar, still waiting to be served. Dave was nowhere to be seen.

'Give the girl what she wants,' Lizzie said, softly but clearly. 'Rattle her bones for old times' sake if nothing else.'

'Rattle her bones,' I echoed.

Still unsure about Lizzie's transformation, I shrugged. Which was the real her, I wondered

'Yeah,' she replied.

Then, rooting in her bag, she produced a card.

'Here . . . My personal's on the back.'

It was a business card. On the front it had all the usual details: telephone and mobile, email and website. Lizzie was a manicurist . . . as I should have guessed from the perfect state of her nails.

That did make me wonder how she'd ever met up with Dave. Dave's idea of "nail care" was to put on gloves when she went rock-climbing.

And she rarely bothered with gloves.

Bare-handed was best, in all sorts of ways.

'Ring me,' Lizzie said. 'I can see we are similar sprits, so why not?'

I could actually think of several reasons why not. But gobby as she was, the blonde was nothing if not alluring, and my girly opportunities hadn't been exactly unlimited lately.

Not that I was going without, you understand. Just once every week with Hev was like ten times a night, every night with anyone else.

But a girl can't have too much, can she?

And maybe fucking Lizzie would shut her up awhile.

Dave returned before I could accept or reject the blonde's indecent proposal. Sitting on the bench she drank the last of her current glass of wine, ignoring both of us, off in a world of her own. Then Hev was back, handing drinks all round.

'Snowing outside,' she said, 'exactly as I forecast.'

I couldn't argue with that. By then it really was coming down in blankets. The stone wall tops were already covered. The road through the village was filling with slush.

Chapter Five

Dave tried to buy more drinks but it was time for us to go into the restaurant. Hev asked Dave and Lizzie to come dine with us but they'd already eaten.

'I made us a full English before we came to the pub,' Lizzie said, girlishly giggly once more. 'I don't know where Dave put it all. She has the appetite of a horse.'

I shrugged and didn't comment on Dave's only too familiar appetites (eating a plate full of fried food was the least of them!). I said it had been nice meeting Lizzie. Then, feeling stiffly formal, I told Dave I hoped to see her around.

'Come in here and you'll find me as often as not,' she replied cryptically.

And that was that. Two minutes later we were at our reserved table, studying menus.

'Lizzie had a lot to say for herself,' Hev said after we'd ordered. 'What was she telling you?'

I instinctively hedged. 'She's a free spirit; footloose and all that.'

'She seemed to like your chest.' Hev laughed. 'It's a good job she didn't know about no knickers. I think knowing that might have made her spontaneously combust.'

'I forgot about that,' said I, laughing along with her. 'I wish I'd mentioned it at some stage. It would have shocked Dave no end. Or perhaps not; perhaps they were knickers-less too.'

'What did I see Lizzie giving you?'

'What?'

'Don't what me, young lady. She palmed you something. I was sent away to school, remember? I know every prison yard trick in the book.'

'You're like the all-seeing eye,' I grouched, handing her the business card.

'A manicurist,' said Hev, reading it. 'I should have guessed.'

'That's what I thought.'

'Is she going to treat you to a free trim and varnish?'

'No, she wants me to rattle her bones,' I said casually, trying to shock.

Hev just laughed.

'I'm in two minds,' I continued. 'Part of me wants to, part never wants to hear her voice again.'

'Borrow one of my ball-gags.'

I frowned at that. 'You don't have any gags. Or do you?'

'Not at present, but I've got an on-line account with a very reliable supplier. A couple of clicks of my mouse and any accessory I want will be delivered on Monday.'

I see-sawed my hand and told her I'd think about it.

'So what's the score with Dave?' Hev asked as our starters arrived. 'You were on pins in there.'

'We have history,' I mumbled. 'Mmmm, this smells good.'

'Kat,' said Hev, 'tell me.'

I dragged my feet before giving in. Sometime in the early hours of Thursday I'd told Vic I had only ever been in love with travelling. I had believed it at the time but was suddenly less certain.

'Dave's not exceptionally pretty,' I began. 'She regularly gets mistaken for a guy. But I fancied her the moment I saw her.'

'Where was that, at the Widget Company?'

'That was most recently. As you seem to know, she's an IT techie. She's moved around almost as often as I have. Our paths have crossed more than once. We've worked together almost as often as we've lived together.'

'You've lived together!' Hev grinned wider than ever. 'Do tell more.'

Then I was the one rabbiting on. Hardly noticing the delicious food I told Hev of our various break-ups and make-ups.

Okay, so I skimped on a few details but gave an outline sketch of most of them.

'It was my love of travelling,' I admitted. 'I couldn't give it up. And Dave has girls after her all of the time. I leave her ten minutes and she hops from bed to bed. Older girls, younger girls, she's had the lot. I don't know how she does it. Maybe it's her gold star.'

Hev's expressive eyebrows both shot up at that. 'Is she really?'

'Yeah, she hasn't time or space for men. Literally, I mean. Think about it. She reckons that she's never as much as kissed a guy but her time's not her own. She's been fucking hungry women all of her grown life. Her social diary has to be as packed as yours.'

'I've known a few gold stars,' Hev said, smiling a little wistfully, almost as if she was reminiscing. 'And I am always jealous as heck. If only, eh?'

'It's easy to claim but almost impossible to disprove,' said I. 'But I believe Dave a million per cent.'

'Is she good where it matters?'

'She's brilliant; nearly as good as you.'

Hev laughed again but her eyes were serious as she pushed aside her empty dinner plate.

'Dave still means a lot to you, doesn't she?'

I shrugged. Seeing her again had brought it all back. I just didn't want to say so.

'That last break-up was final,' I mumbled. 'Harsh things happened between us. And even harsher words were exchanged.'

'She doesn't seem to hold a grudge. Maybe it's less final for her than it is for you?'

I shrugged again and said nothing.

'Listen,' Hev went on, 'you were right when you said Dave's not exceptionally pretty. She is drop-dead fucking gorgeous.'

I gasped at Hev's use of the F-word.

'Dave wants you, Kat,' she continued. 'She never took her eyes off you when we were in the bar.'

'You could have fooled me.'

'I mean it.' Hev was remorseless. 'She was talking to me and thinking about you all along. And you were doing the same with Lizzie; letting her tell her life story and watching Dave, trying not to be noticed.'

'Lizzie said Dave wants us to be friends again,' I confessed, 'when you went for more drinks. And she wasn't gushy about it. She was almost credible.'

'There's too much hate in the world,' Hev said. 'Every friendship is a step in the right direction.'

'It looked like she wanted to befriend you,' I countered.

'If you spurn her I might well befriend her. But if you do what you secretly want to do, I'll keep my hands to myself.'

'What?'

'I'm not one for relationships, you know that. But I'm not a relationship-breaker either. Back at uni I was little better than a tramp. But I only ever shagged with kindred spirits.'

She shut up at that and drained her umpteenth pint glass. I passed her the business card.

'I'll ring Dave on Monday, once Lizzie is off the scene. See if she hangs up on me. Take it from there.'

'And what am I supposed to do with this, Katrina?'

'You're supposed to keep me out of temptation. Mixing with one of Dave's girlfriends is a very bad idea. In fact it's a recipe for disaster, especially after last time.'

'What happened last time?'

'Trust me, Hev, you don't want to know.'

*****

Blankets of snow were still falling. Somewhat reluctantly Hev called a cab and only sank one last beer before it arrived.

Shortly before three o'clock, after skidding and sliding as we went up hills and around bends, we were back at Hunters Farm and I soon fulfilled my promise to have her as a girl.

Three hours I had her. I kid you not. Three hours fucking her with her favourite strapless device.

Nice, nice, nice!

Finally running out of vim, I rolled off her and mused on the difference between guys and gals. In a mellow state of mind I wondered why I had missed out on my own gold star. Okay, cocks were designed to please girls, but Mother Nature had missed a trick. Half an hour at a time was about as good as I'd ever got.

What the hell was that all about?

Fair enough, I knew about refractory periods. And I knew they weren't exclusive to men. But I had had many female lovers, most of them ready, willing and able to go on and on forever.

Amen.

Hev was queen of all queens when it came to cumming. That girl really could go on forever and ever. When she got off the bed I assumed she was headed for the toy drawer. I also assumed it was my turn to lie back and face the force of the hurricane. But to my surprise, she went to look out of the window.