In honour of World Book Day, here follows yet more of my unfinished work, following on from my post of 2nd February. And just so you know, it starts to get a bit racy towards the end. If you want to read more, let me know and I will oblige… There’s 27 pages of it!!!
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My mum came home at about six thirty, having had her hair done. She came through and asked me what I was up to that night.
“Probably head into town. Meet up with some people.” I said casually.
“What people?” She was not purposely nosey, but didn’t always come across that way. The end of my marriage had given her extra cause to worry about me, whether I liked it or not.
“Just some work people” I lied through my teeth.
“Oh. You’re not going to be back too late are you? You’re helping Marie move into her flat tomorrow, remember.”
How could I forget? Along with worrying about me excessively, she was also planning my spare time for me these days.
“I hadn’t forgotten. But I’ve done nothing all week, I need to get out.” Lord only knows why I felt I had to justify this at the tender age of twenty eight years old. Marie was four years younger, and had a boyfriend and a mortgage, and as far as I can recall, she never had this.
Seemingly satisfied, mum left the room, only to return minutes later.
“Do you want some tea before you go out? It’s casserole.”
“Nah, it’s okay, thanks. I’ll get a pizza or something.” Anything other than the old classic casserole.
Mum looked at me with scorn in her eyes, but let it pass and left the room again.
As it was still early, I passed some time by playing on my Playstation2 console, taking out my stress on some poor unfortunate computer footballers. Just as I was getting ready to put it away, my dad shuffled into the living room.
“Aren’t you a bit old for that?” he grumbled.
“You’re never too old, dad. Trust me” I smiled and patted him on the leg from my kneeling position in front of the television. He grunted something unintelligible. He hovered for a moment, then went out of the room. I glanced at my watch and decided it was time to go. I left the Playstation2 littered over the living room floor, a throwback to the days when I would spend all night on my own waiting for Lucy to come home. I would eventually go to bed in a mood, and then be expected to be pleased to see her at two in the morning. If you can work out how I ended up being the bad guy in that situation, I’d like to know, really.
I sorted out my clothes for the night and went for a shower. As I stood under the water, watching it cascading down my body, I psyched myself up for a good night out. I got myself showered and smartened up. I shaved off the two days stubble that had accumulated on my haggard face, hiding the stresses and strains of divorce. I’d forgotten how young it made me look. After getting dressed in jeans, bright amber Mickey Brown ‘Cult Zeros’ t-shirt and brown kappa trainers I made sure my hair was tidy and cleaned my teeth. I completed my preparations with a splash of Abercrombie aftershave, a present from my parents on their last trip to the USA. I gave myself the thumbs up in the bathroom mirror and went out through the front door. As I was going down the driveway, my mum opened the front door and called me back. Reluctantly I turned back towards the door.
“You’re going then?” she said, with a hint of sarcasm.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I thought you were out the back.” I lied.
“Well, make sure you don’t get into any trouble,” she looked at me meaningfully. “Your dad said to give you this.” She handed me a roll of notes. I took them from her hesitantly. As she watched, I counted out fifty pounds. I looked up to see her face breaking into a smile. I wordlessly hugged her and turned back down the drive. As she went back in through the door I gave her a wave and carried on down the street with a spring in my step.
I made it into town with no problem. A one way train journey did the trick. I got on with another group of people all going into town for the night. As I sat down on the train, I noticed a pretty girl sitting on the other side of the carriage, a few seats down from me. She was on her own and looking nervous. She looked about twenty years old, but she could have been older, I’m not good at guessing ages. She was wearing a sparkly black vest top with a lipstick mouth logo in red sequins. The man in me was drawn to her breasts, which were impressive, whatever her age. A silver pendant hung tantalisingly in her cleavage, naturally drawing attention. The conductor came and I paid for my ticket, still glancing occasionally at the girl. The conductor went over to the girl, who rooted in her purse for change. She looked apologetically at the conductor. Craning my neck, I could overhear the conversation going on. The gist was that she was short on the train fare. Feeling generous, yet having my mind filled with images of her thanking me profusely, I stood up and sauntered over. I stood at the conductors shoulder and coughed politely.
“Is there are problem at all?”
Both looked at me, non-plussed. The conductor broke the silence.
“This young lady doesn’t have enough to pay her fare. Not that it’s any of your concern.”
Not liking his attitude, I wanted to give him a punch in the mouth, but smiling, I countered.
“Would it be my concern if I offered to pay the difference?”
The girl looked at me puzzled. I smiled and shrugged my shoulders in a ‘can’t do any harm’ way. She smiled back at me. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a murmur in my underwear. The conductor turned round to face me full on.
“Well, it makes no odds to me, as long as the ticket’s paid for.”
“I-I-I‘m sorry, I usually have lots of change on me” the girl stammered apologetically.
“Don’t worry yourself” I soothed her. “Where are you going?”
“Just into town. One way.”
I got out my wallet, and pulled out a five pound note. I waved it in front of the conductor.
“This should cover it, my friend”.
He took the money and keyed in the ticket on his machine. As the machine spewed out the printed ticket, he snatched it and held it out to me. I gestured for him to give it to the girl. He handed it to the girl with a grunt and shuffled off up the carriage.
I smiled at the girl and went to go back to my seat. As I turned, she leaned forward and grabbed at my jacket.
“Hey, thanks for that. You didn’t have to do that for me.”
I shrugged my shoulders at her.
“I couldn’t let him throw you off the train in the middle of nowhere. I’m too nice”
She smiled warmly at me.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t have.”
“Probably not” I agreed. “But I’d rather not have left it to chance”. I smiled back at her. It’s hard to tell in artificial light, but I’m sure she blushed.
“Do you want to sit down?” She patted the seat next to her. I looked at her as though considering her offer. I took in her short black skirt, black tights and boots. She seemed like she had a body to die for.
“Sure, why not.” I gently sat down next to her, angling my legs out into the aisle. She smiled again, and angled her legs towards me. I could read that body language. Or I thought I could. I knew I wasn’t going to chance it.
“I’m Becky, by the way.”
“Hi, Becky. Nice to meet you.” I shook her hand and smiled. I held on to her hand a little too long, without realising.
“And what’s your name?” She probed.
“Mine? It’s Jon.” I smiled. I gave myself a mental telling off. I was falling apart right in front of her. I let go of her hand and put both of my hands on my lap, out of the way. Or so I thought.
“Are you going anywhere special?” I was jolted out of my private thoughts by her sudden question.
“Er, no not really. Just into town for a few drinks. You?”
She smiled coyly. I was beginning to wonder about her.
“Same. Are you meeting up with anyone?”
“At some point.” I admitted. I was beginning to feel out of my depth.
“It’s horrible drinking alone, isn’t it?”
I turned and looked at her. There was a glint in her eyes. Her body language was obvious now. She was playing with her hair. She twirled her long, dark brown hair in her fingers, letting it fall on her shoulders. I was mesmerised. All I wanted to do was take her hand again and stroke it. I was losing my control.
“Yeah. I suppose it is.” I said, trying to fill any silences. She smiled.
“Do you mind if I ask how old you are?” she ventured.
“Er, no. I’m twenty eight. Although I feel about forty six after what I’ve been through.” I tried to laugh it off.
“You don’t look it. Do you want to know how old I am?”
“Well, I’m a gentleman, and they never ask a lady her age.” I smiled bashfully at her. I couldn’t believe how I was flirting with her. It was no wonder I was awful with women.
“That’s okay. I’ll tell you. I’m twenty two.”
“Oh? That’s nice” I said. I prayed for the journey to end so I could go and give myself a good talking to over this. No such luck. The train pulled into a station I knew was two stops from the end. I felt panic start to rise within me. I’d thought that playing the field was going to be easy – this was a rude awakening. All this time Becky was slowly edging closer to me. No one got on or off at this point, and the train started with a jolt. I could be paranoid, but I swear she made more of it than necessary as she toppled into me. I helped her up and steadied her in the seat. One of the straps of her top had fallen off her shoulder. I happened to glance at her and didn’t see a bra strap of any description. I took a more concerted look, in case she had some of those clear straps on. There was nothing, and worse, she saw me. I hastily looked away, waiting for the accusations to start flying. Nothing happened. Except I felt a hand on my thigh. I looked down and saw it wasn’t one of mine. It was too dainty. I looked round and she was watching my reaction. There was definitely something going on. I could feel heat rising inside me. It had been a while, but I was pretty sure I was onto something now.
“You have nice firm thighs Jon. Do you work out?”
“Um, not really. I play football every week. Does that count?” My habit of using small talk to diffuse situations was kicking in, much to my annoyance.
“So you’re athletic, huh? That’s wonderful.”
I nodded agreement. I tried desperately to come up with something to say. She beat me to it.
“I used to do gymnastics when I was younger. I’m still extremely supple you know.” As if to prove her point, she fidgeted in her seat and manoeuvred herself into the lotus position. Her knees were now almost in contact with my crotch. As I took in her pose, I saw a flash of skin between her skirt and what I’d thought had been tights, but now appeared to be stockings. From that point on I was lost. I only had one thought on my mind – see more of that. Images were racing through my mind of frantic sex with Becky. On the train, in the station, in bed, on the back seat of my car. I could feel the beginnings of an erection and self-consciously shifted to hide it.
So there you have it. Granted, this was written in the early days when I couldn’t be bothered to come up with creative character names, so used my own instead.