Country Pleasures (21 page)

In an echo of their dwindling fluids, the water from the shower slowed, dripped, and then stopped, and Sally fell back against Jonathan's chest, glad in a way that she couldn't see into his face; glad to feel him inside and behind her, not able yet to admit that he had her by the short and curlies, and always would.

‘There. Knew you'd come round,' he growled, squeezing her hard. She smiled to herself, then pushed his arms away, and tilted her arse towards him. She crawled forwards so that she could relish his cock sliding slowly out of her. She heard it flop heavily onto his thighs, then she was up and out of the shower.

‘You mean
you
came round,' she retorted over her shoulder, as she wrapped herself in a towel. ‘You were practically on your knees. You're on your knees now! Just where I like you.'

Jonathan looked up at her, sleek and wet as a seal, then got up to follow her out of the shower room. She didn't offer him a towel. He walked around her bedroom examining things, still dripping wet, his penis still half-cocked and bouncing in front of him. Then he went up to the telescope.

‘You can probably see to Plymouth with this,' he said, tilting it up to his eye. He hooked a foot round the
leg of a bar stool that was tucked into the corner of the window, which Sally hadn't noticed, and perched himself on it.

‘I've tried fiddling with the knobs,' she said, sidling up to him. She wasn't used to this comfortable silence between them, especially after such stupendous sex. She was still waiting for his act to drop; the peacemaker to disappear and the old, evil Jonathan to reappear.

‘Your speciality, my girl,' he laughed softly. At last he was looking at her, and they smiled at each other. ‘But you didn't twiddle this particular knob expertly enough. Look, it's working now.'

He hoisted her up onto one of his knees and she stared through the lens. At first it was all blue sky and the odd nodding tree branch, and she felt as if she was tipping downhill as Jonathan aimed it towards the sea, focusing it so that the blurred blue turned first into clear sand and then the individual stalks of sea grass waving in the slight breeze.

‘How do you know what I'm looking at?' asked Sally.

‘Because I can read your mind,' he chuckled, stroking her buttocks where they were planted on his leg. She felt an answering twitch of renewed desire in the moist crack of her pussy. ‘Seriously, there's a little monitor attached here which gives you a miniature of what the lens can see, like a video camera. You should be trained on the beach now, or the dunes just behind it. You won't get the focus as far as the surf, because the dunes are in the way.'

‘Oh my God!' cried Sally, clutching with both hands onto the shaft of the telescope. She settled more comfortably onto Jonathan's leg and started to rub herself gently against the bone of his thigh. ‘You're right! And there's some people down there, stretched
out on a towel, topless, nothing on – it's a couple. Fucking each other's brains out! A man pressed up behind a woman, just like you were taking me just now, doggy style. He's got her by the hips and he's fucking her from behind and she's toppling forwards with his weight but – but she's on top of another guy! They're all humping like rabbits out there on the dunes! Anyone could stroll up and see them. An old dear walking the dog, kids building sandcastles.'

‘Let me see!'

‘There's two blond guys … hmmm, wouldn't mind a bit of that myself. There's one – red-headed – oh, my God! It's Janie! She's the sandwich! What is she playing at, the hussy? She's being rogered out there by two hunks in wetsuits!'

‘Give me that!' Jonathan grabbed the telescope off Sally so that she tumbled sideways onto the floor. She jumped onto his back while he peered through the lens, swearing loudly.

‘I've got to stop them!' he exclaimed, pulling the focus. ‘The little bastards!'

‘What's your problem?' Sally felt a surge of irritation. Now that he was there, she wanted to get right to the bottom of what was going on. Not only had Jonathan not finished with the begging and pleading, he had not complimented her after getting her in the shower. He seemed to have forgotten all about wanting her to come to London and work for him. Instead he was squinting down a bloody telescope and making a fuss about Princess Janie being taken from above and below by two strangers. Sally shook him. ‘Want to have another go at her yourself?'

Jonathan pushed the telescope away and stood up.

‘Can you find me some dry stuff to wear? I've got to get down there.'

‘No, you can get your own clothes.' She scrambled up on the stool, warm from his bum, and straddled it.

‘Whatever.'

‘You're supposed to be either fighting with me or wooing me, Jonathan. What's going on?'

‘Perhaps it's just the magic of the seaside, makes us all mellow, except I won't be mellow when I get my hands on those two little shits.'

Jonathan marched out of the shower room, muttering and pulling on his soaking trousers as he went, and scuffling his feet into the deck shoes. Sally smirked. He bent down and pinched her face in his hand.

‘I have to go, doll.' He kissed her hard.

‘Leave them alone. Stay here and pay me some attention. I've got more where that came from.'

‘It's a promise, but not now.'

‘Janie can look after herself, you know,' said Sally.

‘It's not Janie I'm after, you idiot!' he exclaimed, pinching her face again then flinging open the door. ‘Honestly, you're obsessed with that girl. No, she can do what she likes, and very nice it is when she does it, if I recall. But I can't stand by and let those boys get away with that behaviour.'

‘Why the bloody hell not? If I had the car I'd go down there myself and join in! Give you something to chew on. They look like pretty tasty young dudes to me.'

‘You'll go near them over my dead body!'

For once Sally was stunned into silence.

‘Don't look so shocked, Sal. I'm allowed to be indignant once in a while, and not just about you, or about business. Because those over-sexed gigolos sticking their bits into your friend are Sam and Tom – my sons!'

He clattered down the stairs and Sally chased after him, her mind whirling. The unattached, enigmatic,
cruel Jonathan had sons who looked like a couple of Greek gods! This was something else.

‘Wait up, Jono, I'm coming with you!'

He ran down the garden path and she followed him, exulting in the luxurious kiss of the unexpected sun on her bare limbs, her blood still racing after their session in the shower.

‘Not this time,' he said, revving up the engine of his 4x4 Merc and blowing her a kiss through the window. ‘I'm not having you creaming all over my leather seats!'

‘Bastard!'

‘We'll talk. I'll be back for more.'

‘You've blown it, Jonathan Dart!' she shrieked, hopping up and down on the doorstep. ‘I'd rather stick needles in my eye than have you back for more!'

The car jerked as he executed a three-point turn and powered up the drive and onto the road, scattering clods of dried mud.

‘Such a bollocking! He was like some father from a Victorian novel. It was lucky we'd finished what we were up to, otherwise he'd have ruined an absolutely sensational moment!'

Janie was having trouble suppressing her laughter as they bumped along the narrow lanes towards the village in her battered Saab.

‘What was his problem? They're old enough to do what they want, aren't they?'

Janie roared with laughter and slapped the long brown leg that extended from her miniscule polka-dot shorts. She pulled in by a hedge to avoid a dozy tractor. The driver's head swivelled full circle to get a look at the two girls.

‘Barely! They're seventeen and nineteen, faces like angels, bodies like –'

‘You lucky cow. You're having all the luck,' said Sally.

Janie turned to look at her friend; her face was solemn again. Someone tooted at them from behind to get a move on.

‘I'm sorry if it seems like that, Sally. None of this is turning out the way I envisaged. But
you
try resisting that kind of temptation! Golden boy comes and talks to you while you're stretched out naked in the sun, ogles your tits, hard-on fit to bust, young, untried, in dire need of the older woman's touch –'

‘Older woman, indeed. You're younger than me.'

‘Twenty-nine seems very old to kids of that age, I can tell you,' said Janie.

‘Which must make Jonathan forty plus instead of the mid-thirties he told me.'

‘Who cares? Who the fuck cares? With him you get three for the price of one!'

Janie stepped on the gas as the road widened, and they bowled along the seafront towards the village. Sally stared at her friend. The red hair was tousled in the wind that blasted through the open window, and freckles were dotted all over her honey-coloured skin. Sally snuffled into her handkerchief, and tipped the mirror down to look at her pink-rimmed eyes and white face. All she'd had time for was a hair-wash this morning, before Janie had forced her out into the sunshine.

‘I expect Jonathan will ground those boys for a week now,' Sally remarked spitefully. Janie had had enough fun for one week. She wanted Jonathan to stay away as well until she was able to have him all to herself.

‘A bit rich, coming on the heavy father when he has the morals of a donkey, wouldn't you say? Even if he could order them about, which I doubt.'

Sally relented and burst out laughing. She slicked some lipstick quickly across her mouth. ‘So it's just you and me today?' she asked.

‘That's the idea. To be honest, I feel as if I've gone six rounds with Mike Tyson – I don't think I could take a cock right now if it socked me in the mouth.'

‘You dirty mare. Get your mind onto a different track, why don't you. We'll get some food in from the supermarket, yeah, then how about a beer?'

‘Whatever you say, dear. Anything to keep that smile on your sulky little face and your bum on that seat. Still want to go back to London?'

Sally glanced out at the little thatched cottages that lined the road, the gardens thick with bushes and flowers, washing lines dancing with towels and bathing suits. Every other car towed a boat or collection of surfboards, and people in shorts strolled towards the sea, all rain and storms forgotten.

‘No, I think I'd like to extend my holiday, actually … if that's OK with you. I've been a fractious bitch, and I'm sorry. Apart from anything else, look at me, I'm a mess. I'm afflicted with the flu. I must stay here and recuperate. To hell with Jonathan's phony offers of work.'

‘What was it exactly he wanted you to do?'

Janie reversed the car into the supermarket car park and got out her shopping list. Sally smiled. Despite all the sexual shenanigans and men coming out of her ears, Janie still couldn't help being little Miss Organised. And thank God for it, the way Sally's head was pounding.

‘A drink will make that go away,' soothed Janie a little later as Sally massaged her temples. ‘Nothing one of Alf's Bloody Mary's won't cure.'

‘Alf?'

‘The landlord of the Honey Pot Inn – our next destination.'

They were back on the road, the car bulging with enough food to keep the army in shepherd's pie, apple crumble, every cheese under the sun, strawberries and cream and, of course, all the ingredients for mind-blowing cocktails. The car crawled back between high hedges, every so often a tantalising glimpse of the sea becoming visible through field gateways and breaks in the cliffs. Finally the winding coast-road led them into the village.

‘I'll leave you here to get the drinks in. I'd better get
this lot back to the fridge,' Janie said, as she slowed down outside the pub. The place was heaving. Sally realised it was a Saturday and the entire population of Devon seemed to be spilling out of their cars and onto the unadorned patch of tarmac in front of the pub: everyone from beach bums to crusty old salts fresh from whaling, or whatever they did out there on the ocean.

‘I'll come with you. Don't fancy my chances with the hoi polloi,' said Sally.

‘Christ, what's the matter with you?' said Janie. She kept the car in gear and revved the engine impatiently. ‘You're not afraid to go in on your own to get our drinks, are you? Time was you'd relish the prospect of going into a pub full of men on your own. Time was I'd have cramped your style!'

‘Just not feeling brilliant, that's all,' Sally shrugged, but Janie leaned across her and unclicked the seat belt.

‘Get a grip, girl. You're becoming a recluse, and that most definitely wasn't the point of this exercise. You haven't stepped outside the cottage in a whole week. Now, I'll be twenty minutes, max. And mine's a pint of Pilsner.'

All eyes followed the choking exhaust of Janie's old car as she roared loudly up the street towards the cottage. Even her driving had changed, Sally thought, feeling in the pocket of her tiny denim skirt for some money. All confident and assertive. Everything about Janie had become more confident. She had a glow coming from inside. Was it really several good doses of sex that had done that for her? And if so, why was Sally still feeling like shit?

She didn't know if anyone was looking at her as she ventured in, but she didn't feel like catching anyone's eye, so made for the dark interior of the pub as coolly
as she could in her suede mules. There was a solid bank of male backs between her and the bar and the noise level was deafening, and rising. She felt her own level of irritation rise as she struck out sideways with her shoulder to get between two lads who totally ignored her and started jabbing their fingers into the chests of two blond guys who were leaning over the worn wooden bar. The bar staff were run off their feet and there seemed to be an argument brewing over who was going to be served next.