Candid Confessions of a Shameless Sexaholic...Part One: Just What The Doctor Ordered (6 page)

            Well, that seemed
reassuring. We skirted round the north of the town and headed towards the
coast. We pulled up in some parkland near the beach. Looking good so far, I
thought. The beach was awesome, with rolling surf and a few families strolling
along the sand. Nothing scary there. And no cliffs to abseil from.

            ‘Well, here we are!’ Brad
exclaimed triumphantly, pointing in the opposite direction to the beach.

            I followed his finger and
looked across the parkland. The first thing I noticed was the air strip with a
couple of light aircraft perched at the edge of the runway. That made me a
little jumpy. And then I saw it. A huge sign stood at the side of the road like
a behemoth, blasting out a message in huge, bold lettering.

WELCOME TO
SKYDIVE CENTRAL!!!

Skydiving? SKYDIVING!!! Oh, fuck…I was
screwed.

***

I got out of the car and threw up on the
grass. Brad jumped out of the driver’s seat and rushed round, just in time to
get a clear view of what I had eaten for breakfast.

            ‘Oh, God.’ I said.

            ‘Angel…are you OK? What is
it…travel sickness?’

            Let’s go with that, I thought.
At least it would get me off the hook for the moment. ‘Yes, sorry…I should have
told you. I get it sometimes.’

            ‘Here…sit down on this park
bench, and I’ll get you some water. Back in a sec.’

            I was glad to have a few
moments alone. What the fuck was I going to do now? Skydiving is not the ideal
pastime for someone who is terrified of heights. And I was too young to die. I
looked up at the sign again and read the smaller print beneath the headline.

           
Enjoy the spectacular
views from 14,000 feet!

            14,000 feet! I get scared
going up a step ladder. There was no way anyone was going to make me jump from
14,000 feet. But if I didn’t, I would make a total fool of myself, ruin any
chance of a relationship with Brad and probably lose my job, too.

            I’ve been fucked a few
times, but never as well and truly fucked as this. What the hell was I going to
do? I thought fast, and by the time Brad came back with a bottle of water, I
had a plan. I would just go along with things for a while, and then at the last
minute, I would fake sickness again, and they would have to go up without me.
Brilliant! I was feeling better already.

            I recovered a little, and by
the time we got into the preparations stage, I was almost back to normal. I
didn’t even have to listen to the trainer. After all, I wasn’t going anywhere.
I just smiled and nodded at him, and pretended to listen. But all I was hearing
was ‘blah, blah, blah…’

            Well, that was a dumb
attitude. Because to cut a long story short, my plan didn’t work out. I kind of
got sucked into the whole process, and somehow that opportunity to butt out
never arose. The next couple of hours flew by, and before I knew it, I was
sardine-sandwiched into one of the tiny planes with Brad seated right behind
me. But all was not lost…I had a plan B. When it came to the big moment when I
was supposed to jump, I would just refuse to go. I would play the scared little
woman routine. Easy. They can’t make you commit suicide, right?

            The whole idea certainly
seemed suicidal to me. I’m not comfortable flying in a jumbo jet, never mind a
minute and rather frail-looking Cessna. There weren’t even any seats. When the 
plane started to hurtle down the runway, I thought I was going to throw up
again. I clenched my fists so tightly that they turned white. Soon we were up
in the air, and I felt more vulnerable than I had ever felt before. The plane
circled higher and higher. There were twelve of us in the plane, five newbies
including me, five experienced jumpers, the pilot and the leader of the group.

            I felt Brad lean closer to
me, reaching around the parachute pack that was perched on my back. I saw him
clip some straps onto my pack. ‘You’re OK now…you don’t have to do anything.
Just enjoy the ride. We are nearly at 14,000 feet.’

            Oh, bollocks, now there was
no way out. Brad and I were strapped together, and he was going to take me down
with him. I was going to die. I resigned myself to my fate. I’d had a good
life. I’d had more fun than most women get in eighty years. I suppose it all
had to end sooner or later, and it turns out it was going to be sooner. Maybe
this was some kind of divine retribution for my sinful ways.

            I was trying to remember if
I had written a will, when the leader guy threw the door open. Shit. A cold
wind whistled through the compartment and I looked outside to see
nothing…absolutely nothing except blue sky all around us, bluer than any sky I
had ever seen before. If I hadn’t been so shit scared, it would have been
beautiful. I realized with a shock that we were first in line for the exit. Brad
shuffled us forwards, closer to the edge, and there was nothing I could do
except panic. I found myself sitting in the doorway with my legs dangling over
the edge. Now was the time to shout that I couldn’t jump…

            …I never got the chance.
Brad pushed forward, and we were out of the plane and spinning. I started to
scream. I was hurtling through thin air, wind rushing past me. As we spun, I
saw the plane disappear into the distance, fast becoming a tiny speck. We
cleared some clouds, and then looking down, I saw the ground below me, a
distant spot that seemed to be slowly getting nearer. The rushing wind lasted
for what seemed an eternity, but must have been less than a minute. I felt
Brad’s hands gripping me, and somehow I felt reassured. Maybe this was going to
be OK. Maybe I wouldn’t die. Just a few months in hospital, perhaps, then a
lifetime in a wheelchair.

Then something
happened…It felt as if I was being pulled up into the air, but in fact we had
just slowed dramatically. I looked up and saw our parachute open above
us…possibly the most beautiful sight I have ever seen in my life. The billowing
cloud of blue and white material looked magical. We weren’t going to die!

Now my world
view changed completely. I was floating in space with a hot guy arm’s around
me, and a spectacular view of the world to enjoy. The adrenaline from the fall
was pumping through me, and I was experiencing a huge high. I could see the
ocean below, the surf crashing on the beach, and the green of the parkland
beyond. Better than sex? I wasn’t sure about that, but it was pretty awesome. We
floated downwards, circling around landing area, swinging in closer and closer.
Suddenly the ground seemed to rush up towards my feet, and I realized that we
were almost down, and coming in fast. Brad told me to lift my legs, and he
guided us down to the grass, coming to a neat running landing.

A moment later,
I was sitting on the grass feeling  totally exhilarated. Heck, what had I been
scared of? I wanted to do it again! But more than anything else, I was more
intrigued than ever by my parachuting partner. There really was more to this
guy than met they eye. This put a whole new spin on the phrase ‘flying doctor.’

Brad unclipped
himself from my parachute pack and helped me out of it. I jumped to my feet and
hugged him. I couldn’t help it! The moment was so intense. He didn’t seem to
mind, in fact, he was laughing.

When we left in
the Land Cruiser an hour later, I was still on a high. I couldn’t wait to tell
Ellen about this…she would be laughing on the other side of her face when I
told her about it. Better still, I had a DVD of the event to prove it. But all
that was to come later. I was starving, and when Brad suggested finding a
restaurant to get a meal, I was all for the idea. We drove into Wollongong and
soon came across an Italian restaurant that looked friendly and inviting. It’s
a good job Aussie restaurants are very relaxed about dress code. I felt scruffy
in my rumpled clothes, although Brad somehow managed to look immaculately
groomed. I wondered vaguely how he did that. Anyway, half an hour later, we
were enjoying some excellent pasta and discussing the adventures of the day.

‘Well, you did
it,’ Brad grinned. I felt that I had gone up in his estimation that day. I
guess he was used to women who chickened out of scary activities. Ha…not me!
I’m up for anything…LOL!

‘Of course, I
wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ I lied. ‘Thanks for an awesome day. I’m
still feeling a buzz.’ And that was the truth…I was just glad to be alive.

‘Great,’ Brad
smiled. ‘I think working with you is going to fun.’ He reached across the table
and squeezed my hand once again. It was just a friendly squeeze, but it sent a
feeling like an electric shock shooting up my arm. What kind of fun was he
talking about? I had some ideas that I would like to suggest, but I didn’t
think this was the moment.

‘I’m looking
forward to it,’ I said. ‘You are full of surprises. I can’t wait to see what
happens next.’

By the time the
meal was over, I was more intrigued than ever by this complex and mysterious
man. He was driven to succeed, certainly, but there was more to him than a
desire for power and money. As we talked about his career, I realized that he
genuinely cared about people, and wanted to leave his mark on the world. By
comparison, I felt shallow and self-centred. My life had been primarily driven
by my hormones, with not much thought into making the world a better place. If
I left a few guys with smiles on their faces, that was good enough for me. Or
was it?

Luckily, falling
out of an aeroplane had given me enough credit to make up for any deficiencies
in other areas. We got along famously, and by the time we left the restaurant,
we were getting along rather cosily. During the drive home, I wondered where
this might go from here. Probably nowhere. Surely he had a beautiful wife, or
fiancé – or at least a girlfriend  – tucked away somewhere. But if that was the
case, why wasn’t he spending the day with her? Maybe she wasn’t dumb enough to
jump into space at 14,000 feet.

Eventually, we
pulled up outside my apartment just as darkness fell. I didn’t want the day to
end there, but I didn’t want to do the corny old ‘want to come in for coffee?’
line either. Then I remembered the DVD of my death plunge. I found it in my bag
and waved it enthusiastically.

‘Hey, you want
to come in and see how we did?’

Brad smiled his
acceptance, and a few minutes later, we were sitting on my sofa, drinking
coffee, and watching me make a complete fool of myself. The soundtrack mainly
consisting of me screaming my lungs out during the freefall, then cooing like a
happy pigeon for the rest of the descent. I sounded like a total idiot, and
Brad seemed to find it very amusing. We watched it several times, then I
switched it off. Ellen had gone out for the evening, so we had the place to
ourselves. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, and I was busy
trying to think of something to say to fill in the gap when Brad leaned forward
and kissed me. His lips were firm and insistent, and I gasped with surprise. I
certainly wasn’t expecting that.

This was
different from most of my other encounters. Somehow this was not just sensual,
but caring and loving, too. I felt like a schoolgirl on her first date,
enjoying the touch of a man for the first time. I responded, putting my hands
round the back of his head and pulling his mouth tighter against mine. I felt
stirrings of longing, deep within me. I wanted to feel his flesh next to mine,
and when he pushed me gently back against the sofa, I didn’t resist.

We lay back
together, kissing softly. Then I felt his tongue probing into my mouth, like a
precursor of sexual penetration, a gentle reminder of what we could be doing.
It felt good. Brad slipped an arm around me and I felt his fingers tracing down
my back, then caressing my buttocks. I ran my fingers down his back, from the
hard muscles of his shoulders to the small of his back. Brad kissed me on the
cheeks, then gently worked his way downwards, kissing my neck, my shoulders,
and then moving further down to kiss my breasts through my clothes. Was
parachuting really better than sex? I had a feeling I was about to find out for
sure. Brad brought his hand up and slipped it under my T-shirt, sliding up to
my breasts and gently caressing them. I couldn’t help but let a moan slip out.
Damn, it felt good. I felt a burning desire to get naked, to feel his bare
muscles next to my soft flesh.

And then he
stopped. In mid boob grope. He pulled away from me with an apologetic look on
his face.

‘Angel,’ I
apologize. ‘I was getting carried away…I didn’t mean to take advantage?’

Take advantage?
I thought.
You
wouldn’t be the first, not by the long way.
But I sensed that would be the
wrong thing to say. I guess he was the kind of guy who expected a little more
sophistication from his ladies.

Fuck.

No fuck.

I stumbled over
my words. ‘Oh…er, me too! That’s not like me at all!’

Hey, stop
laughing….I was trying to be serious. Brad stood up and straightened his
clothing, and I felt obliged to do the same. He bent down and kissed me quickly
on the cheek, the kind of kiss you give your grandmother when you say goodbye.
‘I’m sorry…I’d better go. I’ll call you on Monday…about work, that is.’