With Age Comes Experience

"Don't you ever –" I began to shout, but then it was my turn not to finish my sentence, because Sammy sprang up, anger blazing in her eyes and, despite her intoxicated state, she managed to scratch me across the cheek. I felt blood spring from the wounds inflicted by her nails. She was trying to beat at me with her fists, so I grabbed her wrists in an effort to restrain her. Maggie had been bad enough in one of her rages – usually drug induced – but Sammy was younger, faster and stronger. She was really scary!

"Calm down! Stop it now!" I shouted, fearful that her screaming and swearing would alert my next-door neighbours and lead to a visit from the police. I shook her as hard as I could and pushed her back down onto the couch, leaning down on her, holding her down, trying to make her calm down.

That was when she kicked me. Luckily she missed my groin full on, but she caught my upper leg and that was painful enough – good job she wasn't wearing her shoes.

I grabbed her by the bodice of her dress with one hand and jerked her up towards me. Clamping my other hand on her cheeks, I stopped her screaming.

"Look at you," I hissed, my face close to hers, my knee now resting on the hem of her dress between her legs, preventing her from kicking out or getting up. "Cheap common jewellery! Tat! Worthless!" I ripped the three gold chains from round her neck, ignoring her muffled yelp of protests and threw them across the room.

Rufus ambled into the living room, disturbed by the noise, barking and jumping up and down, stiffly.

"Dressed like a tart! Could you possibly show more tit? Tell you what, why don't you just show it all, eh? Then I'll throw you out and you can wander the streets butt naked. You might even attract some fucking customers!"

With that I tore her dress open, the spaghetti shoulder straps snapping, the flimsy material ripping away from her body, revealing her firm young breasts, only her decorative belt stopping it from ripping further. To my surprise, she was wearing a bra – a discreet strapless one, red, like the dress. I yanked the bra down from her breasts and she screamed, tears springing to her eyes.

I froze. What was I doing? What was I doing? Was I about to rape this girl? This girl young enough to be my daughter? What if it was my daughter in this position? What would I want to do to the man doing it to her?

I released her and rocked back on my heel. "I-I'm sorry, Sammy," I stammered. "I didn't mean – I wasn't going to hurt you, I promise, I-"

But Sammy had buried her face in one of the cushions and was sobbing uncontrollably.

Rufus stopped barking, snorted at me as though with disgust and trotted back to the kitchen.

Now I was really afraid. What if she complained to the police? Or her parents? And what had I done to this girl I adored so much? I tentatively reached out and tried to stroke her shoulder, noticing the telltale pink patch where the tattoo had been now livid where her dress strap had cut into her flesh before breaking. She shrugged my hand off fiercely. I bent forward again and stroked her hair. This time she did not resist. "I'm sorry, Sammy. So sorry, darling," I soothed. "I shouldn't have done this. I'll buy you a new dress, I won't go on at you about going clubbing, I-"

She turned round, tears leaving muddy trails of mascara down her cheeks. "I'm sorry Clem!" she sobbed, all traces of drunkenness gone now – that's adrenalin for you – "I shouldn't have been so mean, I'm sorry!" She threw herself into my arms and we hugged tightly. I smoothed her hair down, but cursed myself for feeling aroused by this position, my erection pressing against her.

"Take me to bed, Clem," she whispered, kissing me "But I've got to do something first!"

"What's that?" I whispered back, smiling, and brushing the tears and mascara stains away from her cheeks.

"You're right, I am a tart dressed like this," she declared, holding up the torn front of her dress. "I'm going to get rid of it, every tarty bit of it. And then I want you to fuck me, and fuck me hard!"

I hate to admit it, but my erection felt like it'd burst out of my pants, I was so turned on, but also relieved that she still wanted me. "Are – are you sure?" I breathed.

She stood up, not wobbling now and pulled me up to stand in front of her. She furiously wrenched her belt undone and tossed it away, the torn dress dropping down around her legs.

She reached round behind her and virtually tore her strapless bra off, viciously wrenching the fastening apart and hurling the bra away from her. Her nipples stood to ramrod attention, rather like she was now, and I stepped forward, running the palms of my hands over them, pressing them into her soft mounds and then pinching them into hard points again.

I gripped her sheer red satin panties, twisted the elastic at one side and ripped them away, eliciting a satisfied sigh from Sammy. They slid down her other leg and she stepped out of them, almost naked now, her pubic mound glistening with her own juices. Sammy finished the job by wrenching the bangles off her wrist and discarding them where she stood. Now she was naked – and beautiful. And mine.

I took her hand and led her towards the fireplace. She nodded and smiled. She dropped to her knees on the sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace. We'd made love in front of the fire one winter's night and it was a fond memory. Sadly, there was no fire today, but I was ready to oblige with some fire of my own. I hastily pulled my robe off and then knelt down in front of her. She calmly reached out and yanked my pants down, releasing my blood-engorged cock.

I gently, but firmly, pushed her down onto her back and positioned myself between her legs. Then, with a speed which surprised me, I grabbed her legs, hoisted them up onto my shoulders and thrust into her beguiling cunt in one long, hard motion. No fumbling, no obstructions, straight in.

"Oh my god, yeeeessssssssssss," screamed Sammy, eliciting a warning bark from Rufus in the kitchen. I thrust into her, backwards, forwards, up, down, her cunt not as tight as it used to be, but now even more deep and inviting.

Her nails dug into my upper arms, her legs squeezed against my neck, her head was back, eyes screwed shut and her mouth open in ecstasy.

I came in a swift flood, perhaps it was the stress, the anxiety, the adrenalin from the fight, who can say, but it was so good.

Sammy climaxed a split second later, her juices rushing to join mine in a glorious, vivid, noisy shared orgasm.

"With age comes experience!" I gasped, panting furiously, my heart beating fit to burst.

Sammy slowly lowered her legs down to the floor, caught her breath and panted back: "Yeah, and with youth comes flexibility!"

By 4 am, we had finally climbed the proverbial wooden hill to Bedfordshire. Sammy was now fast asleep, one arm across my chest, one leg across my aching groin. She was totally exhausted – spent. The second and third love making sessions had been taxing for both of us.

Just before she fell asleep, she'd explained that yes, she'd danced with some lads, but so had her girlfriends, and nothing untoward had happened. None of them was her type anyway and besides, even if one of them did get her into bed or up against the wall, he'd never do it for her, because he wouldn't be me.

"You always say, 'With age comes experience,'" sighed Sammy as she began to drift off. "And you're right you know."

I'd felt good for a while, and then my darker thoughts had taken over as I reviewed the strength and ferocity of my angry outburst, even in the face of her drunken state and general cockiness. I also felt, good though the sex had been, it hadn't been the very best. It was almost bordering on rape. All because of my jealousy. Perhaps my air of coolness was now wearing off.

Maybe I was just too old for her?

* * * * *

Any such dark thoughts I harboured soon faded, however, and I put the whole thing down to a rather nasty misunderstanding on both our parts.

The next three months were hectic, to say the least, and pretty well shot past. Both Hannah and Sammy returned to school and pitched into their all-important GCSE 'A' Level exams. Both needed to attain a requisite number of passes in order to gain their places at their respective universities. Hannah was delighted to have been accepted by Lancaster – subject to attaining her grades – for a place on their Forensics and Law course (watching the X-Files all those years had been the catalyst for that. Mulder might be nice for teenage girls to look at, but Scully was the smart, rational pathologist), so she was happy. She was certainly working flat out on revising every spare hour she had. I had to say I admired her dedication; she was obviously rationing herself as far as Marcus was concerned too, but he was giving her plenty of space too.

Unfortunately, I too was being rationed. Sammy needed to study hard as well, and her visits were few and far between after Easter. At first I worried whether our first and only fight had changed the way she felt about me, but she assured me all was fine and when she did drop by on the rare days she wasn't sitting exams or revising, she was certainly as flexible as she ever was.

I somehow felt that something significant had shifted in our relationship; the sex was still good, but less frantic, less urgent. It felt more… normal, sedate even. Not boring, not at all, but I felt that our relationship had moved to a different level. I even had the occasional mad though that maybe one day, perhaps a few years down the line after Uni, Sammy and I might actually settle down together as a proper couple. Maybe we could tell Hannah by then. But all such wild speculations were quickly dismissed. I'd never expected our relationship to last as such, but what had started out as a bit of fun for both of us had become something more profound.

I was also very busy with a sudden rush of consultancy work. Some days I didn't even have time to take Rufus for a walk, but he didn't seem to mind trotting out into the back garden, sniffing around and doing his business and then flopping down in the sun –or in the shade if it was very warm – and dozing. Good life if you're a dog living here, I thought on more than one occasion, looking at him out of my study windows as I toiled away on the computer. I took a couple of photographs of him to use up a film I'd had on my camera, and the old clown had lain there, panting happily at me, posing as the noble hound. As soon as I'd stopped taking photographs, he flopped down again and dozed off.

Soon, however, the girls' exams were over and the end of term approached. The Sixth Formers had an American-style prom arranged for the Friday evening of the week just prior to school breaking up. I was more than happy to pay for Hannah's prom dress – she'd worked hard to earn it, and I'd even slipped Sammy a few quid towards hers after she complained that her parents had "been a bit bloody tight".

Sammy had told me that she'd be going off to a club with some of the girls after the prom, then staying over at one friend's house. She promised me that she'd be on her best behaviour and make it clear to any boy she danced with that she was spoken for. That satisfied me, although I still had a pang of jealousy. Still, I could hardly turn up as her prom date, could I? Besides, she wasn't taking a date. Even Hannah was going alone, although Marcus, ever the gentleman, had promised to pick her up in his car afterwards and bring her home. Seeing as I wasn't expecting Sammy that night, I'd casually mentioned to Hannah that Marcus could stay the night, although he would have to make do with sharing her single bed with her unless he wanted to sleep in the spare room.

Hannah had blushed slightly, but then reinstated her air of coolness and said, "Thanks Dad, that'll be fine. We'll manage."

I bet you will, I smiled to myself. I wasn't entirely comfortable with the whole thing, but I told myself that I could hardly object to this, given my relationship with Sammy, not to mention the fact that Hannah and Marcus had been together on holiday and she'd stayed over at his parent's house several times already. After I, I was no old fart – I was cool, apparently.

The following week, Hannah and Sammy left school, now both technically grown- ups in the big outside world.

Hannah and Marcus went off on holiday together to Spain. Hannah had an allowance which I'd set up for her out of the insurance money after Maggie's death – in this way, she hadn't felt compelled to take a Saturday job and interrupt her studying. So the holiday was paid for from the allowance as a "Well Done" gift for doing so well at school. Sammy, however, wasn't nearly so fortunate, as she complained to me just before a wonderful 'end of term' session we'd had to celebrate her leaving school, which involved ripping every piece of her school uniform off her, bit by bit, followed by all sorts of sexual stimulation. Her father, apparently, felt that if she got a holiday job before going to Uni, she could earn some money and learn better to stand on her own two feet.

I was quite outraged by this. The poor kid only had a maximum of eight weeks until going off to Uni and she surely needed – deserved – time to get everything arranged for her sadly inevitable move to Uni and also to have a bit of fun. She'd secured a place at Manchester, which was close enough to be very convenient for us to get it together.

"Look, tell him you've got a job if that makes him happy," I said, "I'll give you some money, okay?"

"Are – are you sure, Clem?" she asked with what I felt was genuine surprise. "Only, I – I don't want to be taking your money and – "

I dismissed her protests with an airy wave of my hand. "It's alright," I said, "I've been working pretty hard lately and there's plenty of money coming in, so it's okay with me to divert some of it your way."

Sammy hugged me and kissed me long and deep. "Richard Clements," she said, smiling adoringly at me, her blue eyes sparkling, "You are a gentleman, and you're cool!"

She slowly stepped back, pulled her tie up straight and adjusted the bunches she'd fashioned her hair in and buttoned her blazer up – looking every inch the perfect - but also extremely naughty - schoolgirl. "Now then," she whispered wickedly, "I've been very naughty, Mr Clements. You said I'm a disgrace to the school and aren't fit to wear the school colours. You'd better punish me, hadn't you?"

"Oh yes," I replied slowly tearing the school badge from her blazer pocket, court-martial style, "I think I'd better. You've been very naughty indeed." I gripped her lapels and ripped her blazer open, wrenching it down over her shoulders. "You are not fit to wear this uniform!"

Sammy giggled and then moaned sensuously as I began to pull her tie undone.

It was, as I said, a very good session….

* * * * *

If I'd hoped for a 'summer of love', I was to be disappointed. To start with, Sammy only put in an appearance once during the first week of the summer break, which I felt wasted valuable time when we had the house fully to ourselves whilst Hannah was away on holiday. Although the sex was good, it wasn't enough and I felt pretty deprived after not seeing or even hearing from Sammy. I sent her two text messages to her mobile asking her if everything was okay and to get in touch, but she only responded briefly to the second one saying 'C U soon, luv, S xxxxx'.

Trying to suppress my growing irritation about this apparent brush-off, I took the chance to e-mail Sammy too. I'd always studiously avoided sending Sammy too many e-mails, just to be on safe side in case any prying parents discovered them. If her parents were half as bad as she made them out to be, I wouldn't put it past them to be checking her e-mails. I deliberately kept the message bland and non-specific, simply asking how she was, what she was doing and how about a chat soon?

When the e-mail elicited no response after a day I called her landline. I had an excuse prepared in case either of her patents answered the phone, and was going to ask whether Hannah had possibly left a crucial wallet round Sammy's house, as she'd mislaid it. In the event it was Sammy who answered the phone.

"Sammy. Sorry to call you at home, but I was worried," I began. "How are you?"

"Clem!" exclaimed Sammy, then dropped her voice to a whisper "Sorry I haven't been round Clem, my Mum and Dad are being really anal in getting me packed up for Uni, and they keep going on about wanting me to spend time with them, so we've been going on loads of boring day trips to places together. I will call you and I will be round soon, I promise!"

We exchanged a few more brief words, I kissed her down the phone to which she responded with a dreamy 'Mmmmmm' and then I hung up, wondering whether she would be round soon.

She actually turned up on the Tuesday of the second week, in the early afternoon. "I've told them I'm staying over here," she announced, dropping her overnight bag onto the hall floor as she walked in. "Said Hannah and I are going clubbing and Hannah's asked me to stop over. They don't know she's away and she'll always cover for me anyway."

"Very clever and ironic," I smiled, closing the front door behind her and grabbing her round the waist, kissing the back of her neck, causing her to squeal with delight. "I've been deprived for days, Sammy… so I've got a lot saved up for you!"

The sex was okay – that's all I could say about it. Once in the afternoon, followed by dinner and watching TV together, drinking some wine and then another session in bed. Sammy excused her lack of sexual appetite as being a sign of the imminent onset of her period, to which I made the appropriate concerned comments.

When she left after breakfast the next day, she said she'd forgotten to tell me that she'd be visiting the halls of residence at Uni to check out her accommodation and was then going down to London where her cousin lived to stay with her for a few days, as Carol was ill and needed a bit of help and a friendly family face. She promised to call me, text or e-mail me.

"Come and see me as soon as you can when you get back," I exhorted, trying not to sound too desperate.

"Promise Clem," she smiled and kissed me quickly on the lips before skipping off.

So why, I asked myself aloud, did I feel so apprehensive? Was she going to be seeing any boys whilst she was away? I much like the sound of her cousin anyway – never had done. But I had to trust her and accept the fact that she was a good-looking girl – young woman – and what boy or man wouldn't be attracted to her?

The next week seemed to crawl by. Sure, I had plenty of work to occupy me, but without Hannah in the house – or at least coming and going – and without the lovely Sammy to cheer me up, I was pretty bored. I even broke off from work for a couple of afternoons to do some gardening. Yes, I paid an old chap to come in during the week to do whatever needed doing, and a grand job he did too, but I wanted to get involved a bit, so I spent some time re-planting a lot of large, free standing pots which Maggie and I had bought years ago. I had to admit, I was rather pleased with my efforts.

Sammy did text me a couple of times, mainly to say that Carol was quite poorly and she'd be staying down there with her for a few days longer. I contemplated going down to the Kings Head to see if Bob and Reefer were down there, but I wasn't really wanting their company after the way Bob had pretty much told me grow up about my relationship with Sammy. If he saw me so down in the dumps without her, he'd just say 'I told you so!'

I finally had enough one day and phoned Sammy several times, leaving a number of messages. Finally she called me back.