Jack and the Rollercoaster
Copyright© 2011 by Texrep
I wasn't too tired to go anywhere the next morning, although I wouldn't have minded a few more hours in bed with Becky. When you see a beautiful woman walk naked into your bedroom, pull back the duvet and slip in beside you, it makes you think you have conquered the world. The first time with a new woman is totally exciting and totally frightening at the same time. You have to discover what she likes, what turns her on, and how she wants you to love her, either soft and gentle, which is my preference, or strong and hard. I made love to her slowly and gently.
As we lay together recovering breath, she suddenly turned in the bed and sobbed into my shoulder. I was worried. Had I done something wrong? She was muttering, mainly to herself, but I could hear some of her words.
"Oh bugger! How can I make such stupid decisions?" I heard those words and was hurt, but her next words which were to me, relieved the hurt.
"Jack. I was right when I said I should have chosen you for a Lover. When I think I could have been loved like this for the last few years, I could get quite angry with myself."
"Becky, the time wasn't right then. Perhaps the intervening years have taught us both a lesson." I could feel her nodding. Her sobs lessened as we drifted off to sleep.
Waking up in bed with a pair of beautiful breasts pressed into your side was to say the least, Heaven. I was just started to pay them the compliment of my lips and tongue when Becky leaped out of bed.
"Shit! Look at the time. I have to get to work." I have never known a woman who could shower, make up, and get dressed in so short a time.
"Do you want some breakfast?" I asked.
She blew me a kiss. "Just a coffee please" I brewed some coffee which she drank very quickly, kissed me and went to leave.
"Can I come back tonight? You started something, and I think I would like you to finish. It felt rather nice." I nodded. She smiled. "See you later."
In anticipation of Becky's arrival I had prepared a Lasagne. I expected her about seven, reasoning that she would go back to her flat first to pick up a change of clothes. She turned up at eight. I couldn't be angry as I really had little idea of how estate agents worked. Anyway, she was dressed to excite, in the black leather trousers and a sweater that did little to hide her magnificent bust. The Lasagne was a little overcooked by this time, but went down well with the Merlot I had opened. Becky helped with the clearing away and washing up. Then whilst I made coffee, she went and sat in the lounge. Her chosen place was the two seat couch, and she patted the seat beside her when I brought the coffee. I sat down and Becky immediately moved over and grabbing my head kissed me with an open mouth. The coffee got cold, as we got hot, and very soon after we headed for bed. Becky allowed me to undress her, getting those trousers of was interesting to say the least as she wore nothing underneath them. Becky insisted that she undress me. As she got up from taking my boxers down she pushed her breasts into my face. "You started on these this morning, and I have been thinking about it all day. Please continue."
This night was very much a repeat of last night, except that the urgency was gone. I explored and played with her body for most of the night, and Becky revelled in the attention. Urging me to touch her here there and everywhere. From her cries of delight I assumed she liked my caresses. The last joining was slow and easy, and the gentleness of that was very pleasing. Two lovers extracting the most out of their coupling. We both fell asleep in the early hours.
It is a lovely thing to wake in the morning and the first thing you see is a beautiful smiling face. "Morning, lover." She greeted me. "If you slept as well as I did, then you had a good night." She pecked me on the mouth. "Must go and brush my teeth." She got out of bed, and I laid there in awe of her lovely body. She noticed my gaze. "Go on." She said. "Look all you want. After what you did for me last night you deserve it." She went to the bathroom. I decided that a cup of tea or coffee was exactly what I needed to restore myself to full awake mode.
"Coffee or tea?" I called to her.
"Coffee please, Jack." I went downstairs. All the lights were still on and two cups with cold coffee sat on the table in the lounge. All evidence of our rush to get into bed together. Apart from turning the lights off I did nothing except make her a coffee and for me a tea, eager to return to bed. I had thought that we would spend the day together, but not so. It was Sunday, and Becky rode on Sunday. She left telling me that she would call soon.
Was I disappointed? Well only a little. After knowing Becky for something like ten years and seeing how she operated, I did not expect anything else. Becky was a user, not of drugs, but people. I had no illusions about where we were going. Nowhere! This relationship was convenient only until someone else came along who could be of more use to Becky. I thought already that I knew who that would be. Richard Ewing. For me this was being a friend, but with benefits. I got to have the naked Becky in my bed, and that was a very satisfactory benefit. It has to be said though that sex with Becky was a little one sided, she loved for me to pleasure her with my mouth; she had more orgasms that way than any other. However she would not return the compliment. Our relationship settled down into a routine. Becky was usually with me Friday nights and Saturday nights, returning to her flat during the week. That suited me, as I could get on with my hobbies, and dance on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. I had told Becky the truth, I was giving consideration to letting the dance classes lapse, but dancing with Elly was very pleasant, and there was still a little thought in my head that we may find the spark somewhere. So in some ways you could say that whilst Becky was using me, I was using her.
The proof of my theory came two months later when Becky arrived on Friday night in a very good mood. "Jack! I have got a new job."
"Hey, Becky! That's great. Who with? And what will you be doing?"
"I am getting into the commercial sector with Ewing and Company." In many ways I had suspected this. Hell it was obvious at the Ball what Becky was after. I just hoped that she would be happy with her success, I was happy for her, although there was this voice in my head telling me that this interlude with Becky was coming to an end. We sat down to eat, and she was so effusive, telling me all that she would be doing, about the package they had offered, the great commissions she could make, and the very real chance of promotion. That night Becky's enthusiasm about her new job spilled over into our sexual coupling, she was wild! She did a strip-tease for me immediately after our meal, and then slowly mounted the stairs, looking over her shoulder at me, her eyes seducing me with visions of Paradise. She made it to my bed a minute before I did, and she was laying there, offering herself to me.
"Come on Jack. Make love to me." I did.
What is it about women that a night of unbridled sensuality energises them for the morning, whilst leaving us poor blokes wiped out? Becky was up and singing as she showered and dressed. I almost fell down the stairs my legs felt as if they were made of rubber. She grabbed the coffee I had made then went off to work, almost skipping out of the house.
Everything was the same for the next three weeks, then one Friday afternoon Becky phoned to say she wouldn't be there that evening. "I have a viewing of some premises and could be very late to finish, so I will go home, rather than keep you waiting Jack, would it be alright to come Saturday evening?" I told her it would be no problem.
"That's fine, Becky. Hope the view goes well." I said no problem but there were two problems. First she told me that she was doing commercial sales and lettings. Now I could be wrong, but I couldn't imagine that companies looking for office space would view in the evenings. Secondly, after the first time, it was unusual for her to ask if she could come to my house. She just turned up. My antennae were vibrating. She arrived on Saturday evening and was her usual 'loving' self. I had never kidded myself that I was in any way emotional about Becky, so whatever she got up to on Friday evening was her business. I just took advantage of a willing and beautiful body.
A month went by, and the Friday evening 'viewings' were repeated twice more. I had decided that the next time it happened I was going to tell her that she wasn't welcome any more. Serendipity, chance, call it what you will, anyway it happened. On the Wednesday afternoon before the Friday I had determined to talk to Becky, my doorbell rang. I cursed as I was just in the middle of writing a rather important chapter, and it was going well. I almost decided not to respond to the doorbell, when it went again. I resigned myself to answering it. My jaw must have dropped when I saw who it was. Sheila Ewing!
She smiled. "Hello Jack. Do you think we could have a chat?"
"Yes, of course. Come in." She stepped through the door and I directed her to the lounge. "Sit down, please Sheila. Can I get you a tea or coffee?"
"A tea would be nice. Just a little milk and no sugar." Whilst I made the tea I wondered why she had come to see me, then it struck me. How did she know where I lived? Curiouser and curiouser as Alice would have said. I took the teas into the lounge, and sat down opposite her. My thoughts in the kitchen came straight to the fore.
"I am happy to see you, Sheila, but what is your purpose of calling on me? I don't recall telling you where I lived." I was a little abrupt.
"You have every right to be angry, Jack. We had what? A couple of dances together, and to presume that could be a friendship is taking the enjoyment of dancing with you too far. I found out where you lived because I had a detective follow someone who is familiar to you and to my husband. And she led him here."
"Becky!" She nodded.
Suddenly I knew what this was all about. My suspicions were confirmed. "You know Ms. Cannon and my husband are getting together from time to time. I wouldn't call it an affair, which pre-supposes some emotional attachment. I can assure you my husband has none of that. But however much of a bastard he is, he is my husband and I want this stopped. I have evidence and photographs, but I would prefer not to use those if this can be resolved without rancour."
"You are presumably asking me if I can do anything about it."
"I hoped you could."