Sweet Convictions (5 page)

“I guess so.”

“I tell you what. I’m going to send a little something in the post to you. What’s your address?”

And before I kn
ow it, she’s got the details to my most private sanctuary, my home.

Oh d
ear god, I’m going to be dead in a few days, I just know it. I better make arrangements for my cats and call my mother to tell her I love her.
              “When you receive it, take your time. Think hard. Don’t be ashamed or reluctant in any way. Just be honest and allow your inner sex goddess come out to play. Let her do your answering. Think of me as your own personal little genie about to grant you the most sensual fantasies you’ve always wet-dreamed of trying. This is your gift to
you
, so make the most of it. See you soon sweetheart.”

What in God
’s name was this woman on about?! See me soon?
I simply agree and hang up. Great timing, as Tally bounds over towards me with yet another pair of overpriced shoes. Just as I thought. Although one pair less than I’d expected. She is shoe crazy and easily has in the region of two hundred pairs, each averaging around a hundred and eighty pounds worth, at a minimum.

Shitting hell, I can barely affo
rd to get through each month. The most expensive pair I have is probably fifty quid’s worth, and that was a treat. Over a year ago. I’m in way too much financial bollocks at the moment. Hey friggin ho.

Tally
’s lovely. The most down to earth, genuine friend I have. We don’t see each other that often—maybe around twice a month—but whenever we meet up, it’s like we’d seen each other just yesterday. We simply pick up from the last time and always manage to have such a laugh together. She’s one of two girls in my life I could call a true and close friend. And even the other one I’m beginning to wonder about. She’s becoming quieter and less available as time quickly ticks by.

“Look what I got
,” she shrieks excitedly as she holds the bag high above her head.

“Yes, I can see
, you shoe hussy. Come on, I’m shattered,” I laugh as I guide her away from her store of weakness.

We le
ave the shopping mall on a high. Tally, because of her new heel addition and me because of the provocatively thought-provoking call I’d just received, and obviously down to my new buzzy play things.

Half an hour later, I’m back
in the familiar womb-like warmth and comfort of my home, where in all probability I’m now going to be found bound, gagged and maimed having uncontrollably blurted out my address to some strange sex nut.

I’m
too exhausted to care, even too drained to try out my new toy. I make myself a mint tea and climb straight into bed. As I rest my aching head on the soft squidginess that is my pillow, I shut my stinging eyes and ponder. Just what are my most intimate and deviant fantasies exactly?

Chapter 3

Sunday
arrives. I wake around half one in the afternoon.
Oh yes! I finally managed to get a proper sleep in.
It’s my day of rest and hibernation. My day to escape everyone and ignore my phone. My day to laze in the lounge in my PJs and fluffy slippers cocooned in my chunky, super king-sized duvet, snuggling with my two favourite fur balls, whilst watching incredibly girly movies all damn day.

Of course,
this is all whilst in the back of my mind and in the pits of my stomach, I’m thinking also of how crap it is that I have to have to go back to work tomorrow.
Urgh balls, bollocks, shit!
Yes, I know I swear a lot. But I like to think of it as me enhancing sentences. Making them better. More colourful.

Just as
I’m about to commence my Sunday pampering ritual of toners and face mud, to be closely followed by enjoying bad food and wholesome cosiness, I hear the letterbox in my front door swiftly swing open and shut.
On a Sunday?! What the hell?!

I
amble unwillingly from the bedroom towards a gold envelope on the floor. I bend down with a crack in both knees as I swoop it up and slice it open with my nail. Inside is a small card:

Dear Guest,

Please
kindly complete the enclosed form by emailing your answers to:

[email protected]

Please ensure that you are specific and entirely honest &

return
your response by no later than 7pm, Sunday, 17
th
July.

‘Sunday, 17
th
?! That’s tonight. Oh for fuck sake, just when I thought I had a day off, now I have to fucking think,” I take a seat at the dining table and read the form as I laugh.

Please complete this questionnaire in the truest form:

1. What are your top 3 favourite films?
   
2. What are your top
   5 sexual fantasies?
   
3. Which top 3 uniforms do you like t
   he most? Police/Sailor/Construction Worker/Fireman/Other
   
4. Yes or No to: Hot Candle Wax,
   Vibrators & Dildos, Domination, Alcoholic Bubbles, Nipple Clamps, Bondage (ropes, handcuffs, other), S&M, Spanking, Anal interaction,
   
5. Are you allergic to: Rubber, PVC,
   Condoms, Massage Oils, Other (please list any allergies you may have)
   
6. How did you hear about us?
   
7. If you were to win a luxury getaway:
   

a)
    
which dates could you be available from and to?

b)
    
what time could you be ready for collection on your first day of your escape?

“Holy fuck balls, personal or what?” Even so, I humour myself by getting out my laptop and drafting my answers.

1. Love Actually, Pretty Woman, 8 Mile, Lesbian porn of any kind
   
2. Group sex
   /swinging, girl-on-girl, sex with a random girl in a gym changing room, threesome—preferably with the third being a woman, being taken abruptly by surprise and dominated (preferably by a guy I know or have at least met a couple times), sex in /files/14/22/54/f142254/public/being watched, and watching others. Sorry, got a little carried away!
   
3. All of them!
   
4. Yes to everything apart from S&M. Oh and only mild bondage...and it depends what the ‘other’ refers to exactly
   
5. Not that I’m aware of
   
6. Your card was
   randomly handed to me by a cashier in a local adult store
   
7. If I were fortunate to win ANYTHING, EVER
   :
   

a)
    
I could make myself available from Wednesday, 20
th
July to Sunday, 24
th
July; and

b)
    
I’d be happily ready to disappear from half 4 on said Wednesday afternoon

What a joke this is. If they’re going to take the piss, I’m going to bullshit them right back. As I press send, sneering, my phone vibrates next to me. It’s a text from Karl.

Received:              What you up to? x

Sent:
                            Nothing much. Watching chick flicks x

Received:
              Want some company? x

Sent:
              Sure, as long as you don’t attempt to convince me to swap my films for action packed ones ;) x

Received:
              Would I do that? Lol I’ll be there in a jiffy with a couple jiffies x

              Argh! I thought I’d get to relax today. Oh well, that’s that then.

I dash
between bathroom and bedroom washing my face, brushing my teeth. I quickly shuffle my hair about, paint my face and smear on a few layers of lip gloss.
So much for my day of beautification and nothingness!

I
climb into an elegant yet extremely sumptuous purple corset, suspenders, some black hold ups, a pair of excessively high heels, which can never actually be walked in or my feet would bleed to pieces, and roll on my long black satin gloves.
Aaand breathe!

Just in time as
I hear the door click open. He’s got a key so he lets himself in.

Cla
ck, clack, clack.
What the hell’s he wearing?
Usually he’s in trainers so I don’t usually tend to hear him coming in – and then generally shit myself when he appears from nowhere.

I wait for him to
make his way to the bedroom. I’m still panting from the rush and try to slow it as I clumsily collapse onto the bed in the most erogenous position I can manage. He’s walked through to the lounge. I hear him fiddling about with something but can’t make out what he’s up to.

“I’m in here babe,” I
shout out to him suggestively.

“Coming now, give me a sec,” he replies
, his voice shaky. Then I listen to the clack, clack against the laminate wooden slates become louder as he reaches my bedroom door. He’s dressed in a tux!
What the fuck? Have I forgotten about a bloody wedding we’re supposed to be at?

Karl
smiles appreciatively and quite approvingly down at me, then takes my hand and guides me to the lounge. His hand is trembling.

“Hun, are you okay? Why are you shaking?”

Not another word is uttered as he sits me down and presses play on the stereo. I’m mystified. The song starts to play. It’s a dub-step tune. He begins to dance!
Fucking hell! Please don’t let me laugh! Please don’t let me laugh!

Thankfully, whilst
I’d always thought this would be something I’d laugh my tits off at if a guy ever did this for me, and not only do I want to avoid making him feel like utter shit, because clearly he’s particularly nervous about doing it anyway, he’s in fact really good and I’m loving it.

The song
starts to fade into its finish and he straddles over my legs, leans forward and fervently caresses my neck; my cheeks then my moistened lips.
Oh wow.
I quiver from the sheer passion and tenderness. It’s as if he’s not seen me in weeks – like he’s making up for lost time or something.
Oh god maybe he’s sick. Maybe he’s just found out he’s dying.

Oh for fuck sake
Gemma, stop being such a ridiculous twat.
He moves away from my lips and stares into my eyes.

“That was really amazing baby. Thank you for
doing that for me,” I whisper.

“You sure you liked it? I had about three shots of whiskey before I left my place,” he
admits self-consciously.

“Honestly, I’ve never thought I could handle
a guy doing that for me but you were really good. I loved it and I completely appreciate what a nervous wreck you must’ve been, so thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Well, in that case, you’re most welcome. Would you like to
join me in the bedroom for a bit more warmth?”

“
I think I’ve warmed up after that but still, absofrigginlutely,” and we disappear to the shadowy curtain-drawn room.

“Hang on a sec. I’ve got something I’d like to try out.
I bought it yesterday,” I announce.

“
Definitely!”

That’s one of his
many great attributes—always up for anything. He’s quite the audacious one. Never asks what it’s about, why or how, he simply trusts my judgment and follows my lead, and vice versa. We have fantastic sex.

“
Whilst you sort that, I’ll quickly check our account.”

When we first got together it was
purely on the basis of having a bit of no-strings-attached fun. We decided we wanted to try anything and everything and top of the list was a threesome because he’s never had one and I am a big fan of them.

I’m bi-sexual and quite fond of
girls so I thought why the hell not. Besides, I love going down on a woman. How the hell men don’t find themselves constantly burying their faces in women’s pussies is beyond me. Ah, the feeling. The taste.

S
o anyway, we set up an account on an adult sex site. Annoyingly, most email contact was from couples looking for the same thing we were; a single girl willing to join a male/female couple.

T
hey very clearly didn’t take the time to read our profile thoroughly before getting in touch which I just find so rude, so desperate. Others were simply chancers. So we gave up checking our account for a while.

“Okay
, I’m just putting in some batteries. I won’t be long.”

“Hold up, I think we’ve got something here,”
Karl says eagerly.

“Ooh goody! What’s it say? What
does she look like?”

“Hmm, she’
s 42, size 14, massive tits!”

“That’s it? You see nothing but
age and cup size?” I quip.