Tuesday, 18 March 2008

After the bar at the .....

The bottle of white wine stood empty in the middle of the table surrounded by the remains of the usual fourteen pints that Jekyll had consumed throughout the evening. Somewhere in the fug of the night she had spoken the words he wanted to hear.
"You're coming home with me tonight!"

He struggled into the taxi beside her. Remembering nothing of the journey he found himself fumbling in the half-dark of her bedroom as she offered him a teasing smile. A slight frown tugged at his brow as he was painfully aware that he remained limp and soft. It had happened before and the timing couldn't have been worse. A touch of desperation swept through him but he told himself that he could easily blame it on the alcohol.
Ten endless minutes later Jekyll's nerves were stretched to breaking point as they continued to fumble beneath the sheets. He wondered if he could tell her that what he really wanted was for her to take him into her mouth and that nothing else was going to rouse him.
The silence between them was broken by her inevitable reaction. Driven by frustrated rage she stormed at him until he scrambled out of the bed and into his jeans and shirt.
She swept the door shut just shy of a slam as he retreated before her steady gaze. It was a deliberate maneouver, meant to intimidate. Unfortunately, it was working. He didn’t pause until he was well out of sight.

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