Sweet Convictions (13 page)

Sent:                             Hey ma. Miss you, love you, must go. I’m in the middle of shagging! Hahahaha x

It’s obvious that my mother and I are very close and we tell each other everything. It’s the most blessed mother/daughter relationship anyone could wish for.

Sent:                            I’ll text you tomorrow when I’m in bed, resting my genitals. Haha Love ya x

Received:
              LOL, you hussy. Love you too. I want all the details tomorrow! Eye colour; how good he was and dick size! x

I speak to her daily and we talk about anything and everything. Sadly, even after thirty plus years she continues to miss my dad terribly, and often cries. The more time she spends alone, the more she pines for him. She still lives in South Africa; my brother immigrated to America and I’m in the UK.

On a more dismal note
, my father was abruptly taken from us when I was just six; a horrid motorcycle accident. I don’t remember much of my childhood at all but the day the police knocked at our door and told my mother we had just lost our dad—her forever love, is still as clear as if it happened just a week ago.

My dad was rushing home to us one evening
after work. Tragically, he sped into a street light, literally wrapping his motorbike around the lamppost. We were told that he broke every bone in his body on impact and died within minutes of being transported to the hospital.

I too still cry and not only because I miss him and always will
, but the most poignant fact that I have heartbreakingly managed to outlive my own father is a wretched guilt that will never subside.

Jesus,
I can’t think about this now. I’ll become a bloody mess!
I swallow hard and reassign my mind and vagina back into a state of lust.

Q
uickly snapping out of my soul-destroying daze I throw my phone down into my bag and mount the bouncing bed where Lexi’s astride Walt; he’s winching her up and down with his prodigious biceps. I watch Lexi’s tits flap about like jellies and reclaim domination by squatting over Walt’s face, lowering myself as I instruct him to lick my pussy until I come. I’m face to face with Lexi as I press my hands into Walt’s chest and lean forward to kiss her. I convulse with every flick of Walt’s frenzied tongue against my clit.

I become frustrated with not being able to climax and
swivel myself around for better control. I clench firmly onto the headboard that’s raucously being clobbered against the wall as the four-poster is vigorously bumped back and forth with the amorous pounding and slamming. There’s no doubt in my mind that the occupants in the neighbouring room could either be very tempted to come over and join in or rather they’d be quite up for bashing our heads together in return for a bit of silence.

Within
moments of Walt’s tongue gratifyingly caressing my clit and the external borders of my saturated pussy, an orgasm erupts like a volcano shooting exhilarating tingles to the tips of my toes and fingers; through every limb, and raising every hair. My abs tense and the ferocious release launches my body into spasms as if I’m having a minor fit. I let go of the headboard, leaving imprints in the padding and collapse sideways over his face onto the soft mattress before rolling breathlessly onto my back for well-earned a break. Immediately Luke, who’s been watching the arousing revels, joins us all. I’m dangerously dehydrated and thankfully, he’s brought over a bottle of bubbly which I grab. Before I can knock any back, he retrieves it precipitously from my desperate grip and shakes his head with a suspicious grin as he swallows a mouthful himself, followed by a large swig.
Selfish shit
.

T
ravelling his blowfish cheeks towards my face I hide behind my hands.
Shit he’s going to spray it all over me the fucker
.

“Don’t you dare
Luke!”

H
e moves my hands away to meet his lips with mine and releases the now warm bubbles into my parched throat. I swallow gratefully as he moves further down to widen the gap between my groin, runs his nails down the inner parts of my thighs and...
holy fucking lightning bolts
...gradually discharges it into my already beating pussy.
Oh my shitting fuck!
It’s fizzing away inside. Not unlike the energy-inducing effervescent vitamins I watch bubbling in my water each morning.

Oh my
god it sounds like popping candy! So not only have I learned a new trick with pearls, but champers too
. I shudder at the tingling responsiveness. My body is like a plane in turbulence.
It’s weird. Oh hold on, no, it’s good. Oh, it’s really, really good! Oh fuck me!
I giggle as I squirm about and laugh so much I snort.
Attractive!

Thankfully it doesn’t
faze Luke in the least. He moves back in and brushes his tongue against my clit as he savours the bubbles trickling down the sides. I’m unbelievably sensitive already and I giggle some more as I try to push his head away but he’s like a gigantic boulder, he’s not budging. He persists at licking my pussy like a hungry dog gnawing at a bone. I stifle a scream and eventually relax into it, allowing it and I actually manage to come all over again. God
I hope my own wetness doesn’t friggin curdle with the bubbly.

Chapter 7

I wake up in a panic, disorientated. It’s 4.02am on Friday. We’d fallen asleep at some point. I’m spread-eagled across Lexi’s bed.
Oh shit I hope I didn’t pass out mid-fuck.

I gently peel my face
from one of Lexi’s 36DD tits, slowly remove Walt’s hand from between my crotch and silently gather my bits. I throw on just my dress and exit the room barefoot. It’s only two doors down—that much I remember from that evening. I scamper over to my door, quickly unlocking and hiding myself behind it like some prowler in the night. Giddy and befuddled, I climb into my bed, weaken under the soft embrace of the duvet and enter a dreamy slumber.

At a more reasonably acceptable time, I awake with a banging head.
Shitballs.
I roll off the bed, onto the floor and crawl—literally, to the bathroom where I hang my head in shame over the toilet and puke my lungs, my liver and my spleen out. I’m in agony. I’m usually fortunate enough to be able to mix my drinks without quandary. Just every other night barring last night it would seem.

Weakly,
I lift myself up to the basin, brush my teeth and switch on the shower. I climb in with my toothbrush, still brushing, and let the powerful running water hit the hell out of my head.
Massage bitch, massage my head better
. I exit the shower, dab myself dry and collapse face first back onto the bed.

“This is only the third day and I’m fucked already,” I
murmur to myself. Then I giggle at the irony.

“
No! I won’t have it, I won’t be defeated by booze,” I demand to myself.

“Get up you miserable cow bag. Sort yourself out and get cracking.”

I lift myself
from the bed and suddenly I feel a bolt of energy shoot through me. That throw-up earlier must have done the trick—vile, but greatly needed. I send Tally a text to check on the boys and quickly recognize it’s a challenge to type. The sensation of vigour must be in my mind...not yet reached my body.

I
ease myself gradually into the next step towards leaving the room and loaf across the bed switching on the TV. There’s a cooking show on. No doubt, it would be my favourite. Seafood. More seafood! You’d think after the mass of shellfish I guzzled last night, I wouldn’t want to see another clam, mollusc or shrimp in a good long while. Wrong. I could live off of the stuff.
Mmm, garlic sea cockroaches.

As I though
t; the moment of get-up-and-go is rapidly lost. Lazily, I watch as a scoop full of pinky orange king prawns are neatly stockpiled like a game of Jenga over a blanket of steaming hot mussels. Then yet another layer, this time of spongy scallops is evenly spread across the top. The stacked heap of shellfish is then placed inside of a huge chunky lobster. My mouth floods with saliva, as I watch the chef drizzle a sizzling buttery glaze which drips down the sides and onto a plate decorated around the edges with, you guessed it, more juicy prawns.

I can almost smell the lemon and garlic sensation.
The fifty four inch flat screen gives off the clearest picture I have ever seen on a telly. I can practically reach out and grab a hold of the beautiful crustacean-loaded lobster and shovel it down my throat.
Mmm. Food. Must eat.

I turn off, spritz some complimentary perfume
. Well in fact, I virtually re-shower myself with the entire bottle. It is only little...and free after all. I check myself in the mirror and concur with the bloodshot eyes glistening back at me that for someone who’s only had around 3 hours suspended consciousness, a chuck-up and a gang bang, I look pretty darn doable still.

An hour later
and a belly filled with runny poached eggs, smoked haddock and two cappuccinos, I make my way outside. Oddly I’m gagging for a cigarette, but I don’t smoke. I notice a couple standing face-to-face. They’re both leaning against an angular black metal art deco railing. The woman’s sucking on a long, thin cylinder of tobacco. They’re busy chatting.

I head in their direction
in the hope I can bum a ciggie off of them.
Hmm, I wonder if they’ve come here together
.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if I could be cheeky and ask if I c
ould pinch a smoke from you please?”

They look over, astounded.
Jesus, did I suddenly have a head of an alien or something? Why are they looking at me like that?

“Sure sweetheart, you can be as cheeky as you’d like,” says the woman
bewitchingly.

I giggle shyly and confused.

“Thank you.”

The guy hands me a cigarette
and I place it in my mouth. The spongy cellulose acetate sticks to my lips; they’re dry—must be from all of last night’s hard-core kissing and nipple-nibbling. The tall ginger-haired guy puts a lighter to my mouth and I move in to light it up. I’m so busy taking in the gorgeousness of the woman standing next to him that I misdirect my mouth, move in too low and feel a sudden sting as I singe my bloody eyebrow.

             
“Fuck!” I burst without any thought to the explainable fear it infused into both of them.

He drops the lighter;
thankfully! She jumps back and they both stare at me as if I had Tourette’s.

“No, seriously, it’s fine. This is what I do! I’m a clumsy, idiotic
doofuss!” I say as I continue to rub my brow. I feel more of the stiff hairs fall into my fingers.

“Shit.” I’m not bloody
gonna have any left in a minute!
Stop rubbing, stop rubbing! Why am I still rubbing?!

“I don’t mean to embarrass you
love, but you are just simply stunning,” ginger man says as he directs his lighter to my face.

I choke as I inhale, unsure of the reasons
—embarrassment or a clear reminder that I do not have a clue how to smoke.
Shit.
I can feel my face heat up as if I’d just swigged an entire bottle of hot sauce.

Oh
god, I’m probably a dark shade of crimson from the utter mortification. I mean, it’s a lovely compliment and all, but they’re still staring like they’ve just seen my head pop off my shoulders. And for someone such as myself, who doesn’t generally receive much in the way of complimentary approval, I immediately tense up and assume they’re being disparaging. I’m probably their private joke of the day.

“
Er, thank you?” I respond in an uncertain questioning tone.

“
And, thanks for the smoke.” I smile and start to walk away.

“That’s it?
You really just wanted a ciggie?” enquires the tall, curvy woman; her long fiery red hair flaming over her slim shoulders.
Wow, I love her hair.
It reaches the top of her pert little ass.
You sexy bitch. I hate you. But I want to be you.

“Yes, that’s it really.
Although, I don’t know why I’m doing this, I don’t even smoke.”

“Well, stick around and have a chat with us
. Three is never a crowd.”

There she goes again
with her inviting ways. Her sultry, heavy-lidded eyes are insatiably alluring and they draw me in. Jesus, talk about come-to-bed-eyes.
They’re dark, like exotic almond-shaped black holes sucking me in and she has the longest lashes I’ve ever seen.
Must be false
.
Although, who the fuck cares. They work!

Out the corner of my eye, I notice
Mike, the main host for my stay here. He clocks me and walks over.

“Hey
Gemma, good to see you. You enjoying your stay?” he asks politely and kisses my cheek.

“Hi
Mike, yes I’m absolutely loving it actually.”