Popped (5 page)

“Yeah, you
run,” one of them shouted after him.

I pulled a
book from my handbag, and leaned up against the door, content to
get some reading done on the ten minute journey. I may have changed
in many ways in recent weeks, but I still liked to read. Change the
bad, the dull, and the boring, but keep the good
—
all part of the plan. Thank God for PowerPoint
presentations.

The walk down
South Parade to Richard’s Mother’s house brought back memories, and
when she answered the door I felt a wave of nostalgia rush over me.
I’d always liked Mrs. Criddle, even though I did think she should
have thrown Phillip out decades ago.

“Clara, dear,”
she said, the surprise evident, “we weren’t expecting you.”

“I should have
called, but I thought you’d be here, and I was passing.”

“Phillip’s
upstairs in his room. Should I call him down?”

“Never mind,
I’ll go up myself.”

“He was ever
so upset that he couldn’t get hold of you these past weeks. Did
something happen, dear? At the party? You disappeared so sudden
like.”

“Nothing
happened. I just wasn’t feeling well, and didn’t want to spoil the
party.”

“You’re
alright now though?”

“Never been
better,” I said, and headed for the stairs.

Telling her
what had really happened on New Year’s while she was serving drinks
downstairs never entered my head. I liked her too much, and she was
far too besotted with her son to have that picture implanted in her
mind.

There was
eighties music coming from Phillip’s bedroom. Diana Ross I think it
was, singing
Chain Reaction
. Phillip’s taste in music seemed
to have frozen when he was a teenager. In retrospect, Phillip
himself seemed to have frozen somewhere in the 1980s, living with
his Mum, retiring to his bedroom after dinner, treating women like
alien creatures who gave him erections.

I opened the
door without knocking and walked in. If I was hoping to find him
playing with himself like a typical teenager, I was disappointed.
He was lying on his bed, head propped up on two pillows, reading a
science fiction novel wrapped in a library cover.

“Clara,” he
shouted, surprised and a little shocked to see me. He jumped up
from the bed, dropping his book in the process. “Where have you
been?”

“Croatia,” I
answered, closing the door firmly behind me and stepping into the
room.

“What were you
doing in Croatia?”

“Sampling the
locals. Look Phillip, we have to talk, but there’s something I want
to do first.”

As he stood
there gaping at me, mouth open and glasses hanging halfway down his
nose, I dropped my bag and coat onto the floor, stepped out of my
shoes, and unbuttoned my pants.

“What are you
doing?” he said, stepping back from me.

“Last time was
all wrong,” I said. “I want to purge it, replace it with something
a little more in keeping with the new me.”

I pulled my
pants down, kicking them to one side, and began unbuttoning my
blouse. Phillip was staring at me like I’d grown a second head,
which in a way was true. I was a different person after all. The
blouse went the way of the pants, and I raised my hands above my
head, pulling my sports bra off in one sweeping motion. Sports bras
were the only bras that made any sort of sense to me now. Anything
more
feminine
and I looked like a twelve year old playing
dress up. With a single final motion I pulled my panties down and
took a step towards Phillip, naked.

He was looking
at me like he didn’t know what to make of me or what to do with me,
and I guessed that both were true, but his body knew, as evidenced
by the growing cock visible in his pants.

“Stand still,”
I said, before grabbing a pillow off the bed, dropping it onto the
floor next to him, and falling to my knees. I’d learned only a few
days ago that it got really uncomfortable kneeling on the floor
when giving a guy a blow job if you didn’t have something soft to
kneel on. They never show you that in porn movies, but then most
porn movies were made by men, and the care and well being of
women’s knees didn’t appear to be their top priority.

I unzipped his
pants and shoved my right hand into the hole, searching for the
cock that I knew was growing in there somewhere. When I pulled it
out, holding it firmly in my small fist, Phillip groaned a little
and looked about to complain, but before he could say anything I
lowered my mouth over it, allowing it entry into my warm, wet
mouth. I sucked him off, using the limited techniques I’d picked up
from Goran and learned from Parker at one of our girls-only nights
during the week. I was far from being an expert, and expected to
improve very quickly, but I was guessing that Phillip, despite the
fumbling fuck of New Year’s Eve, was just as much of an
amateur.

It didn’t take
long until I noticed the build up of tension that signified an
imminent mess was about to be made, so I stopped what I was doing,
jumped up and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Why are you
stopping?” he panted. “I was about to...”

“I know what
you were about to do. You’ve done it before, remember?” He blushed
as I spoke of the encounter he had probably planned to forget. I
leaned back onto my elbows and lifted my legs off the floor,
opening my thighs in the process, exposing my pussy to him.

“You’ve never
seen this before,” I said, a seductive tone entering my voice.
“Have you?”

“Seen
what?”

“My
pussy.”

“Last week,
I...”

“On New Year’s
Eve you saw my bum and you fingered my pussy, before fucking me
from behind. Now I want you to fuck me again, only from the front
this time. While you look at me.”

This was a me
he’d never seen before. I was determined and almost aggressive. I
knew what I wanted, and I knew that I was beautiful and
desirable.

“But, Mum is
downstairs,” he said, a pleading and uncertain tone entering his
voice.

“She was
downstairs last time too. Come on, you know you want to,” I said,
stretching one foot out and sliding it up his leg until it reached
his cock.

Phillip was
looking at me like he’d never seen me before, and he hadn’t. Not
like this at least. His cock was still hard, and he hurried over to
me, stepping in between my legs, and squatting a little so that he
could reach my opening.

“Push it in,
Phillip,” I said. “Sink it in all the way, as hard as you can.”

He did as he
was told, a look of ecstasy on his face.

“Now look at
me,” I said, my voice clear and confident, “and say my name when
you fuck me.”

“Clara,” he
said, thrusting deep into my moist wetness. He was aggressive and
frantic in his haste to get what he wanted, just like a teenager
who’d never had sex before, all grunting and thrusting and
grabbing. But each time he pushed inside me he panted my name, and
I made him look at my face as he had me. There was no comparison
with the calm, passionate competence of Goran, but I wanted to wash
away that first time up against the door, take back control of my
sex life and my body. He came inside me, shooting his cum deep into
me again and again until he was drained, exhausted from the effort
and the strangeness of it all.

When he was
finished he looked as if he wanted to curl up on top of me and fall
asleep in my arms, but I didn’t want that. I had what I came for,
and it was time to move on. I slipped off the bed and walked to my
bag, bending over to retrieve a handful of tissues which I used to
wipe my thighs and pussy.

“You need to
move out of your Mother’s house, Phillip,” I said as I dressed
myself. “Give her a chance to find a life of her own, maybe even a
husband.”

“What? But she
likes me living here,” he said, the confusion evident in his
voice.

I continued as
if he hadn’t said anything, “And you need to learn how to live on
your own. You know
—
learn how the grownups
live, go on dates, meet new people, step outside of your cosy
comfort zone.”

“You’re
different,” he said. “Did something happen?”

“We won’t be
seeing each other anymore, Phillip.”

“But we
just... Is there somebody else?”

“Yes, Phillip.
There is somebody else. Somebody very, very new and very, very
different.” He was lying on one side looking as if someone had just
kicked his puppy, so I walked over to the bed, bent my head and
kissed his cheek.

“Goodbye
Phillip.” And I walked out.

Oh, I could
have stayed longer, had a more serious chat about everything, but
it wouldn’t have made a difference. Shock tactics had woke me from
a thirty one year slumber; maybe they would do the same for
Phillip. And I had arranged to meet Parker at a bar in Soho at
eight thirty
—
so I had just enough time to
rush home and change.

It was going
to be a great night.