Sweet Convictions (28 page)

I
love to tease. I want her to want me even more than she already does. I want to drive her crazy with desire. I smile cunningly at her then continue.

She grips my hair and pulls me closer to her. My tongue is buried so far inside, I wonder if it
’ll ever find its way back out.
I hope not! She tastes good.

I push her legs even further apart
and I suck her practically dry. I can’t get enough myself. It seems that the lust I’m trying to get her to feel is backfiring on me. The scent and taste of her is driving me insane.

Mark arrives at the side of the bed for a closer view as I look up at him and take two fingers and drive them into her pussy. She arches her back and I place my other hand behind it digging my nails into her spine. I fuck her hard, deep and fast with my fingers.

“More! Deeper for fuck sake
, I want to come all over your fingers,” she demands.
Wow, where was all this coming from? She’s gone from innocent to possessed!

Mark climbs onto the bed behind me and lodges his cock inside me.
Fucking hell, is it bigger than before? He must be really turned on by all of this.

It takes
my breath away and I moan. His hands pull my hips back and forth as he penetrates me faster and harder than I’ve felt before.

My tits
sway to and fro as Mark thrusts me back and forth. I reach across the bed taking possession of the empty wine bottle. I lick the fruity top of it clean and insert the long, slim bottle neck inside her and fuck her pussy until my arm aches and she comes. I place my fingers in her mouth and make her taste herself. She sucks them clean and kisses me.

Mark pulls out and Cassie leans forward with her hands on my chest now pushing me onto my back — my head hanging upside down off the edge of the bed.
Her turn!
She goes straight in for the kill and sucks on my clit. I twitch each time and she flicks it with her tongue and nibbles at it until I screech.
Either she’s lied and done this before or I’m one hell of an effective teacher! God I love converting virgin girls.

Mark sees this as a new opportunity and walks over to me, kneels on the floor and rams his burgeoned length inside my overturned mouth.
It’s quite an experience giving a blowjob upside down
.

He fuck
s my mouth like he’s fucking my pussy. I choke a few times but I pull it back in each time. He massages and slaps my tits as he continues to fuck the inside of my throat. Cassie is now fucking my pussy with her fingers as she licks my pulsating clit.

“
I want you to come in my mouth. I want to taste you,” she demands.

I soon feel myself about to orgasm. I move
Mark’s cock out of my mouth and I rub it vigorously as I discharge my juices into Cassie’s mouth. Simultaneously, Mark lets out a thunderous groan and explodes all over my face, tits and chest.

A few breath-catching
moments later, Mark lifts me upward. I’m lightheaded and need the blood to flow back through the rest of my body. We take time to gather ourselves as I hear a titter from Cassie.

“I can’t believe I just did this. And with two complete strangers. Jesus!”

“Did you like it?” I ask her.

“I fucking loved it! I’ve never been wi
th a woman before and now I want more!”

“Well
, if ever you’re up our way, here’s my number.” I hand her a napkin with my details and she kisses us and disappears from the room.

Ding! Ding! Ding! Second round!
Mark and I decide we want more. I’m feeling extra risky tonight, so I reopen our room door and get on all fours.

“I want you to fuck me right here.”

“Are you insane woman?”

“Yes, now do it!”

We fuck in the doorway. Right in the blatant view of anyone who might walk by – almost wanting it. Hardly going to happen considering it’s nearly four in the morning. The illicitly heated moment sends my heart racing and my clit pumping and I instantly orgasm. It doesn’t take Mark long before he comes over my ass then swiftly shuts the door as we lucratively conquer our peril urge.

Chapter 16

Break-ups are shit. There’s no two ways about it. There’s nothing worse than breaking someone’s heart and then watching the space between you and
them expand as you walk further away from one another for the very last time. It stings like fuck, but then we just need to slap on some antiseptic, let the healing process do its thing and start from the beginning again. After all, life is like photography—we develop from negatives. And what could be more negative than someone shredding your heart into teeny tiny unrecognisable pieces.

So
thinking back, after my first beautiful love of seven years from sixteen, my really shitty relationships have gone from shit to even shittier.

Fuck up
number 1: The angry, woman-bea...oh hold on and holy shit, how could I forget one of the biggest dipshits of them all? The Already-Married-Twat. I was with him for a year—a year people! He met my mother, stayed over most weekends and even introduced me to his mother and brothers. The only teeny snag was he was married. With a child! And I never knew a thing about it. Not until one day I received an anonymous call at work telling me to get in my car and head to an address they had provided to me before hanging up. Of course, I was rather horrified, along with mystified, terrified, and pretty friggin offended. I felt queasy and light-headed. I felt like I was going to faint but there wasn’t time for all that bullshit so I got into my car and did what I was told. My entire fifteen minute drive I thought to myself how untrusting and stupid I was being but I couldn’t help but keep going. If it’s true, how could I be so blind? When I pulled up at the house, the pits of my stomach were churning. My heart was in my throat and I could have puked up every intestine at that very split second. I got out my car, walked up to the gates and there they were, the happy family; laughing and joking and playing in the garden; mommy, baby and lying dirt-bag of a husband/boyfriend. That was the day I lost all confidence not only in myself but in everyone else. The trust I had in people was desecrated and been completely obliterated. Before that, I trusted everyone. Gullible, naive yes and perhaps he did me a favour but it was a favour I didn’t want and certainly did not permit. Following about a month of daily, sometimes hourly abuse over the phone to both me and my mom with whom I was still living at the time, I was ever so kindly visited at my workplace by his wife. She didn’t want to talk to me. And why would she? She simply came into the office, picked up every piece of stationery she could locate on my desk and flung it at me. She didn’t utter one word during the stapler-hurling, hole-punch-propelling, ruler-lobbing, folder-tossing, calculator-flinging, highlighter-firing, pen-after-pen-after-pen-chucking moment before walking out the door as if this was as normal as munching on a sweet chilli chicken wrap.

And
I’ll be honest, if the tables were turned, I’m positive, I’d have not only whacked any cheating-man-stealing bitch over the head with her keyboard but I’d have indeed been particularly verbal about my feelings whilst in the process of it all.

But hey, how could anyone misread that huh?
Come to think of it, I’d have probably done all of that to my deceiving husband, rather than her. After all, he’s really the one to blame. He knows he’s married. He knows he’s in the wrong and he’s certainly the one who should know better than to fuck with me.

It kills me that I missed something so significant.
I mean, I really didn’t know a damn thing. Was I honestly that pathetic and blinded by what I thought could be love?! Holy hell was I naïve back in my young inexperienced days! The guy practically lived with me for god sake. Had I turned an ignorant blind eye or was I honestly that pathetically and desperately stupid?

A few months down the line, h
is wife and I got in touch and decided to collaborate and scheme a plan to trick him. I drove around to their home whilst he was at work – due to finish shortly thereafter—and picked her up in my car, however she didn’t climb into the front or even the back seat – she clambered into the boot. Thinking back on it, I was pretty fortunate none of her nosy neighbours were watching from their windows or I’d have probably been pulled over and done for kidnapping! Oh shit! Even worse, had she been trying to trick me, I’d have definitely been thrown into a cell for it! Okay, I just got major shivers. I’ve never thought of that until now!

Anyway, thankfully it wasn’t the case.
I collected him saying I wanted to talk it out and we drove to a nearby park. Immediately as I had come to a stop, we got out and walked together to a bench and sat down. Seconds after, his wife snuck out of the boot and appeared before us with each of us giving him an ultimatum to which his response was kicking up dirt as he ran off and never reappeared in my life again. I’ll tell ya, I’ve learned a hell of a lot from that wasted year alone. To never trust anyone ever!

Arrival of
wank-stain number 2: The woman-beating, over-moisturising, anger-infused, confidence-crushing waste of skin. An ugly – in many ways than just one—walking dildo who could never make a decision of his own. A real soul-sucking mommy’s boy who always felt the need to fold his clothes before sex. Had he had the choice and time, he’d have ironed them too. The one who had all the signs of a handful and I don’t mean a pleasurably soft stress ball type handful, or a sumptuously plump breast type of handful; I mean more like a handful of sharp stabbing nails.

E
nter cock-sucker number 3: The arrogant, self-loving, self-centred, self-anything, philandering bamboozle who loved himself so much. A David Beckham wannabe, and to be honest not too far off from a lookalike actually; who put me down at any moment that he could, forever trying to change anything about me, from my lipstick shade, nail polish colour, how I wore my hair, what I should and should not wear, and worse, how I should wear it if I was to wear it. The one for whom listening was an undervalued skill which he simply did not possess or come to grips with. The only times he listened was at the sounds of his own voice or to the gaps in between whatever he had to say. One who was so shitty that even his parents and grandmother warned me I should leave because I was too good for him.
Note to self: Shoulda taken a hint then!

Come in
dick-head number 4: The unmotivated, insensitive, resentful, ridiculously lazy knob who had a complete lack of dialogue and an absolute deficiency of emotion. The bull-headed, heart-obliterating mind-fuck who treated me more like his roommate-slash-cleaner-slash-cook-slash-mother, who he fucked once a month if I was fortunate enough to be treated to his limp shrimp. The one, who I inanely thought was The One. The one who told me that I was perfect in every way yet never actually allowed our relationship to reach its fullest potential because he was so numb to any feelings or desires of any kind. The one who hated kissing, the one who refused to do anything as a couple, the one who made me think I was worthless and the failure of our time together all my fault. What a guy!

And
then came along number 5, not-a-twat-at-all, Shaun: The altogether genuinely great guy. Caring, indulging, affectionate and selfless. We were best friends with constantly amusing banter and astounding sex. The only problem being, we pressed each other’s buttons far too much. We knew how to wind each other up to the point of it becoming unnecessarily nasty. He was the one whose ready-made kids I adored as if they were my own. The one with whom, regrettably I just could not find that indefinable can’t-see-my-life-without-you spark. And whilst we believed and tried to make a good go of it, it simply wasn’t meant to be. A shame but a thankful end because it opened the doorway to my heart and soul to the true and right One for me.

Finally
, the end of my loveless tear-jerking journey. Welcome to Excellence Forever—my savour, my best friend, the one who without fail ignites a flame in my soul; my world, my entirety. Mark.

Only t
wo months into our relationship, I manage to construct some prowess and convey to Mark that I love him. Another two months follow and I suggest that he quits his ludicrously low paying job up north and move in with me. And a speedy four months later, we’re engaged. Well why the hell not?

It was a perfect proposal too
– traditional; beautiful. I had been in suspense for months, waiting for it to happen and eventually gave up hoping. Then one day Mark tells me that he’d like to take me out for dinner. We hadn’t really done that many times before then. We’d always preferred to stay cuddled up indoors with takeaways hidden away from the world; alone savouring one another’s company, bodies, lips, eyes, conversation.

So o
f course, this invitation I was pretty excited about as I got to wear my strapless knee length cocktail dress that I had bought about a year earlier but never had the opportunity to wear anywhere nice. God
if I tried to fit into it again now, I’d split it in two.

Annoyingly, o
ur reservation was delayed slightly so we popped into a local old man’s pub a few doors down and had a drink in there. Initially I felt overdressed but realised soon after our arrival that in fact, I was rather underdressed which became quite apparent from the salivating grunts and hungry stares I was getting each time I leaned across the pool table. We played three games of pool and I kicked Mark’s arse every time. I knew then it was gonna be a gooood night.