The driver handed my luggage over; one non-descript rucksack and my suit carrier. With both hands full I fumbled his fare out and ended up giving him a better tip than I intended because I couldn't be bothered to try and count it out better. Money didn't really matter too much as I had only got back off tour a month ago and I'd saved a good amount - you simply cannot spend money in Afghanistan. In true squaddie tradition I was destined to blow it all on women and drink. It didn't matter though as I knew I'd be back in the sand in less than four months' time; and I was determined to enjoy my leave while I could.
The taxi pulled away behind me as I walked up the short gravel path of what used to be a stately home, now turned into a hotel. I had checked out its website while I booked a room. It looked impressive but the prices didn't seem that high, so I guessed it would be the sort of place that has the veneer of high culture, but has lost some of its lustre over the years. I noted the door could do with a lick of paint as I pushed through it and made my way over to a young looking receptionist.
"Hi, "I said "I have a room booked under Rix?" The receptionist looked a little sheepish and replied.
"I'm very sorry, sir, but check in isn't possible until ten A.M." I smiled at her because I already know this having read it online.
"That's cool. I'm afraid I didn't have much option with the train times and it was either turn up early or turn up late." I gestured at my luggage. "Is there any chance I could just hang this somewhere in the meantime?" Her reply was unsure.
"Well, sir, we couldn't take responsibility..." I am about to say I couldn't care less I just don't want to drag two bags around with me for another hour and a half, when an older lady joins us.
"Is there a problem here?" She says with an easy smile, quite obviously accustomed to awkward customers. The receptionist, her tag says Rachel, says brightly.
"Mr Rix would like to leave his luggage somewhere while he waits to check in, and I was just explaining we don't really have the facility..." But the lady cuts her off.
"What luggage do you have, Mr Rix?" I hold up my suit carrier. One section has a plastic window and it's obvious it contains a military uniform. I think I see the lady's eyes soften slightly, maybe a relative in the forces also?
"I just want to hang this up somewhere as it's a real pain to iron - the rucksack I'm honestly not bothered about." I try and give her my winning smile, aware I really don't have one. It seems to work and she arranges for my gear to be taken up and hung in my room with the understanding that I'll still have to wait to access it. I hand both over, sign in, and then go and explore the house and grounds while I wait to see my room.
If I can, I always like to fully inspect my surroundings. I know part of it is because being concerned about security is now second nature to me, but also I am quite an aesthetic person and I like the architecture and landscaping that normally go hand in hand with locations like this. The garden is lovely, and there is a large and well-tended lawn that stretches down to a small stream which has a quaint little bridge running over it. Because I'm here for a wedding, my imagination is taking in all the spots that would make a good photo as its one of my hobbies; and this bridge is probably a banker for the photographer. I try and imagine Hannah and Yogi standing on that bridge as husband and wife, and actually, it's still a struggle for my imagination to make a couple out of them.
Yogi is one of my friends I have known since time began; we went to pre-school and basically grew up together. He is, in complete contrast to me, a really friendly person. The type that everyone gets along with and no-one has a bad word to say about. His only problem is he's a little too nice if anything, and when it came to girls he always ended up in the "friend zone". Maybe at high school he was carrying a few extra pounds making him even cuddlier (it's why he's nicknamed Yogi) but to look at there was never really anything wrong with him - I guess maybe he never gave off that sexual vibe or he was always too nice to push his luck.
So, it was a bit of a shock when I found out via Facebook, while I was on tour a couple of years back (complete mis-use of satellite technology), that he had started dating a girl called Hannah. For one thing; we had all been close buddies for years. Hannah had started hanging around us when she got to high school - Yogi and I are a couple of years older, and I suppose it was cool for her to hang with older guys. This was fine as we all lived really close to each other and were friends outside of school, but looking back it did give Hannah a couple of points on the respect scale because, at that age, older guys are more interesting. When we left school I joined the army, but because my training was relatively local, I came back often and I'd always be sure to find the two of them drinking in the local pub - Hannah normally with another guy, and Yogi making everyone laugh because after a few whiskey's he really was quite a comedian.
This went on for years, six years? Christ, six whole years. Hannah had always had a very healthy taste for men, and cut through them with the sort of efficiency you would normally expect from a guy. She would be in relationships, or a fling, or happy enough with a one-nighter if the mood and drink took her. I really respected that about her; she never bowed to that social expectation that girls had to be chaste - although funnily enough one of the few times I've been in a church was because she wanted to be christened, or confirmed I think they call it when you're older. Either way, Hannah ate men up and spat them out with the sort of ease that intimidated many young men in that area. I had slept with her myself a couple of times, and while it was fun, it just didn't seem right. We were really friends, to the point that fucking each other after a night of drinking didn't faze us and we would laugh about "the time when..."
I had seen Hannah with Yogi together several times over the last two years - not anywhere as often now there were two ongoing warzones to get involved with - but it still surprised the shit out of me that they were an item, let alone about to get hitched. We had all laughed at how weird it was, but the fact of the matter is that they simply fell in love. To me, it felt like the end of an era because they were so happy they'd started to settle down, and I was one of the few people that knew Hannah was pregnant. Part of me wished them well, but part of me wondered who I'd go drinking with now those two were going to have responsibilities.
On the face of it, thinking this way was a little selfish, really I was just being pragmatic about coming back on leave only to find strangers in the local pub. I had been noticing it more and more, as my age group all shacked up and their priorities shifted to family life. Now these two were destined for the same. I felt, nostalgic I suppose, as I stood on the bridge feeling the suns heat finally start to cut through the morning chill. Much of this event, for everyone I suspected, would be about days gone by. Hannah and Yogi had invited so many of our old school friends that I had not seen for years, and it would be interesting to see how everyone had faired since we all parted ways. My mind wandered over all the memories in a wistful way that left a smile on my face and in that moment I felt a deep sense of contentment. Time slipped away and it was only when I started to hear people milling around the house that I decided it was time to get myself ready.
An hour later and I was checking my uniform in a full length mirror that stood in my small room. Although compact even by hotel standards, the room had lots of character; including a very low doorway to the en suite which I had caught my head on twice already. I mused that this would be particularly deadly when I returned with a good amount of alcohol in me - regardless of the warning sign on the beam. Everything else was very well laid out, and relatively tasteful - only the mod cons really spoilt the antique look of the room which I thought was a shame. Some people really just cannot live without TV no doubt, but seeing as it was there I had flicked it on to catch the news while I dressed.
I regarded my reflection, and while satisfied that everything was as it should be, I never really could get used to the ceremonial uniform we used for special occasions. It always felt a little fake to be dressed up smartly, a pretence that the world at large expected and the army was happy to oblige with traditions of pomp and ceremony. My real uniform stank and was so grime encrusted I needed a new one by the end of every tour, but that was the one that I liked to wear because it was, in my mind, what a soldier is really about. I couldn't run very well in the shit I had on, but Hannah had pretty much begged me to wear it and I supposed multi-terrain pattern wouldn't be that helpful in the photos.
I made my way to the bar as there was still another hour before the wedding was due to start. Hannah had intentionally arranged to have it in the afternoon so she had plenty of time to get ready and the guests had enough time to travel to the venue. Quite a number of people were already there, many of which I knew and some I was related to. I nodded my hellos as I worked my way up to the bar. An older man struck up conversation about our military efforts in the Middle East and how he was proud of our armed forces and the general "cause". I politely agreed not caring for a long debate about my friends and I getting blown up to free people who didn't seem to care for their own plight. People always assume soldiers are madly patriotic and automatically believe everything their government tells them, but the truth is we are no different to the rest of society, some think, and some just follow.
Either the old guy realised blowing smoke up my arse doesn't turn me on, or maybe his family stole his attention, but somehow I am left standing with my back against the bar and an iced whiskey in my hand while I surveyed the throng of snappily dressed people. The drink chills and then warms as I sip it and one of Hannah's uncles comments it's a bit early for "the hard stuff". I just laugh and tell him I'm only drinking whiskey because I handle beer like a girl - which happens to be true, but he takes it as a joke and moves off and leaves me to watch the people.
My problem with weddings is that a person is required to be nice, and this comes quite hard to me because I am something of an introvert and my personality doesn't lend itself to small talk. I struggle to feign interest in people whom I find uninteresting, and just cannot carry off that easy laugh that seems so effortless for other people when somebody else cracks a lame joke. If it's funny, I'll laugh along like everyone else; if it's not then I just think I sound fake. Looking round I can see a good deal of fakery going on; there's the pretend voices of civil discourse, and the very English "weather" conversation. People telling one another how nice they look when quite clearly last year's dress seems a little tight this year. Everybody in the room is pretending that the crying kid really isn't that annoying, and that no-one wants his parents to just take him outside.
I take a walk into the courtyard, which I find really very well designed. It's light, and sheltered from the breeze - so warm it's almost continental in temperature. It's also where all the younger people have decided to hang out, and here at least, the affair seems much more relaxed. A couple of lads that I recognise as my youngest brothers friends start talking to me about the pool table in another room and challenge me to a game. They remember the days I used to spend playing in the pub and are keen to test their skills against me now they've improved. I laugh and say that I really don't get to play that much anymore and I see their faces drop, so I agree to give them a frame or two later on. Judging by the rate they're drinking I estimate they'll be lucky to still be standing upright, let alone potting balls.
I bump into one of my old school friends and his wife, and we strike up a conversation about motorbikes as I know he owns a bike shop. It feels good to really relate to someone that's not also in uniform, and we discuss all the nuances of riding fast, quite obviously panicking his wife about just how fast we can go. He expertly turns the conversation to the idea of me getting a new bike, but I tell him if I get another one it would have to be brand new. I suffered quite a dangerous mechanical failure on the one I have now as a result of the previous owner doing some modifications. Ashley only sells second-hand bikes and tries to assure me they're all fully inspected, but I tell him I've made up my mind about it, although I will certainly let him carry out services and repairs. Before he pens me into a corner about anything else I hold up my glass and say I'm just getting another and hopefully by the time I get back he will have lost the interest to part me from my money.
The bar is pretty busy now as there's not much time left before we have to enter whatever room they have set aside for the ceremony. I'm trying to calculate if I can get another drink and have time to do anything other than down it when I notice a girl on the other side of the room staring at me openly. It takes me a second to realise it's a girl I have had feelings for since I met her years ago at school. In some weird way, I have always known she felt the same, and looking at her over a gaggle of heads I can see it's still there in her cheeky smile and sparkling eyes. There was always something about Kirsty that dragged up something in my core, something deeper than just the normal lust a guy has when he sees an attractive girl - and Kirsty was definitely that.
She was physically my type in every way; petite, lithe, almost nymph like. At school she had long, raven black hair; however it was now cropped short at the sides with the top extending down to her jawline at the front, shortening at the back. It was a little unruly, sharp, and sassy - and it suited her personality perfectly. Kirsty was a real firebrand, fun to the point of trouble, and she was overtly very sexual. Something about the look in her eye, or her body language absolutely claimed men as prey. There was a confidence that could in no way be a front, it was just natural to her, and I think that is what called to me the most. Most girls tended to turn slightly timid around me because I too am a very confident; but Kirsty felt like my equal.
We were both standing grinning at each other, maybe in a secret kinship of finally finding someone we really wanted to talk to. I hesitated a fraction; I don't know why really; perhaps I was simply that happy to see her I forgot to take it to the next step of walking over. She was smiling at me over a glass of wine and her eyes looked full of joy and excitement. Before my senses came back to me everyone was starting to rise to make their way through to the ceremony room, and my view of her was blocked by numerous people shuffling forward. I caught a last quick glance of eye contact before she was ushered away by her friends. I wasn't bothered as I knew I'd see her afterwards. In fact, I thought maybe I needed a little time just to centre myself after the surprise of seeing her there.
I took a seat near the back and got as comfortable as I could in preparation for a good amount of God talk from the vicar about the joys of marriage or whatever. I could see Kirsty from here, or the back of her at least; her dainty little neck with the halter of her dark green dress across it was making me ache to touch her. I knew she would never turn around to try and catch my eye, it just wasn't her, but I could tell without a doubt that she was distracted by the way her friends had to repeat themselves. I wondered what thoughts were spinning through her mind, sure she was thinking of me also. The music started and with it the ceremony. Hannah walked in with her father, and I could see she was tearing up with emotion. I hoped she wasn't going to start giggling with nerves; that was usually how she reacted for some bizarre reason. But by the time she'd walked her way down to Yogi my thoughts were back on Kirsty.
We had never really gotten it together at school, and I had no idea why other than the situation had just never panned out that way. She always seemed to have a boyfriend, or I had a girlfriend. Or we were at a party and one of us was so wasted that the other just laughed and moved on. I remember crashing on Hannah's sofa one night and Kirsty was there but she was so drunk Hannah's boyfriend and I just put them into bed together and carried on drinking. An hour later they'd both come downstairs because one of them, and they blamed each other, had pissed the bed - and I didn't fancy snuggling up to that so gave up the sofa and slept on the floor. But I did rue another opportunity lost.
The fact is I'd seen Kirsty in all sorts of states and I still wanted her. The closest we had ever come was the summer I left school and were both out in a nightclub. We danced against each other and I thought that was going to be the night. What I hadn't banked on was Kirsty not telling me she was meeting a guy there. For a moment I thought I was going to get into a fight, but Kirsty told the guy to basically calm down and wait his turn. We had left the dance floor and found a bar. I remember clearly asking her why she didn't just leave that guy and go home with me. She asked me where I would be in November, and I told her basic training - to which she replied "And how will I go home with you then?" She said she didn't want me for a night, she wanted more. I couldn't give her that, and I let her walk away as I turned a bottle of Bud around in my fingers. It was one of the few times in my life I have been so upset I couldn't drink. I hated having to make that choice, and I hated myself for making it. I hadn't seen Kirsty since then.
Of course, I'd heard snippets about her on the grapevine. At one stage she was dating a good friend of mine and I felt a little gutted because I thought that would be it for any chance I had. I still hadn't figured out that maybe I had blown all my chances that night in the club, or I just didn't feel like admitting it to myself. Over the years I'd thought less and less about her but I never forgot her entirely, and every now and then the memory of her would fill me with a lust that I never thought I would be able to do anything about. Until now perhaps.
The ceremony was drawing to a close, two of my best friends were tying the knot, and I had daydreamt through nearly all of it. Again, one could call that selfish, but the thing about traditions is; once you've seen one you've seen them all. When it came to Yogi kissing his bride I could see something that was a little different though; they were entirely comfortable with each other. They'd been friends for such a long time that it all seemed so easy for them. There was none of the usual discomfort of being the centre of attention because they weren't putting on a show, it was all very natural. I think in that moment I felt the happiness that they were experiencing and in a way it was lucky that they had both found such a perfect partner in the other. It was one of the few times I could genuinely imagine them growing old together - they had done enough growing up together after all.
They led the way outside to the lawn and I could see the room where the reception would be held because there were several large doors wide open with refreshments on long tables. People were being informed to help themselves to drinks before we all sat down for dinner, which would have to be somewhere else. The benefit for having everyone here is that they could prepare the dining room, and in the meantime the photographers could get some pictures. I hoped Yogi hadn't paid too much for the guys they'd hired because as far as I could see they really didn't seem to know what they were doing. I picked up a glass - some form of punch - and went back outside where there were less people and settled into an internal critique of the lead photographer.
"Hello Sailor." Kirsty said from behind me. I smiled as I turned because I knew she was just trying to pull my chain calling me by the wrong arm of the forces.
"Hi. It's nice to see you again." We both watched each other's reactions. Part of my brain started to watch her eye pattern trace from one of my eyes, to my mouth, and up to my other eye - and repeat. It's something people do when they want to become intimate. I knew I was sub-consciously doing the same thing. We were both smiling. The pause in conversation didn't really seem uncomfortable, I think we were just really so happy to be standing there with the other after so long apart. I didn't know if we should just try and pick up from where we left off. Something wanted to make me apologise for that night in the club even though I knew I couldn't change it now any more than I could then. I felt a little sick then because I figured maybe the same rules would apply and I'd have to let her walk away once more. But I had learnt a lot about life in the years between and one of the lessons was to just go for what you want; life can get a little too short to mess about wondering what could have been.
"So who are you here with?" I ask her as nonchalantly as I can. She just laughed and replied.
"That's pretty fucking subtle, Daz." She tilts her head up to me and continues "Lou and Amanda; you remember them?" I nod but really I don't give a shit either way. Kirsty is looking so stunning standing before me, her light little frown peeking at me through streaks of black hair.
"So... where's your date then?" She asks in return. She knows damn well what the answer will be because her face splits into a very sassy grin.
"I don't have a date, Kirsty."
"Hmmm. Why don't you just pretend to be my date?" She's smiling, but her expression has changed a little. I can see, just barely, something in her demeanour become a little vulnerable. It makes my heart melt. I actually want to just hold her, or, tell her how much she means to me - even though we haven't seen each other for years. My mind throws up the idea of soul mates, and for a change I don't mentally just slap it down as horseshit. Fuck, this girl enchants the shit out of me. But all I say to her is;
"Sure."
I hold out my arm slightly and she hooks hers round it in the old fashioned way people used to do back in the forties. It's something we had done as kids too and in a way, it's like coming home. The very fact she's touching me fills me with a glow I'm sure other people can see. Very naturally, we just start to walk. She says.
"You got your dream come true then?" I glance down at her, raising an eyebrow - thinking if she means she's a sure thing for bedding or something. "The army. I heard you'd gotten in. Then I heard you'd gone to Afghanistan."
"Yeah, it worked out for me." I actually feel guilty because I know she's thinking about the fact that I picked the forces over her.
"Do you like it?"
"Yeah, I guess so." I really cannot be fucked to talk to her about this. It feels conceited. "It's just who I am, Kirsty. It suits me."
"You're fucking mad." And there is a flash of anger that sizzles through the swear word. I stop.
"I'm sorry." I say to her. She knows what I mean but brushes it off.
"No, I am. I'm just being a selfish bitch. I shouldn't have tried to stop you." For a moment, I'm a little stunned. In all the years I had never once considered she might be feeling guilty also. I felt like I was the one leaving her. I felt like I was the one being selfish. Now I felt guilty that she was feeling guilty - this was fucking crazy because I do not normally get this emotional. Ever.
Kirsty doesn't seem to want to look up at me, and that hurts me more than I would ever have expected. I lift her chin with my fingertips and she lets me brush the hair off her face with my other hand and we share an intense look that makes me crumble inside. Almost everyone around me seemed to evaporate and I was about to totally lose myself in the moment when I caught sight of the photographer in my peripheral vision. It threw me off - I think because his stance looked so much like someone aiming a gun at me - and I turned my head to see that he'd been taking pictures of us. He waved a thank you from twenty feet away and it was lucky he wasn't closer because I could have dropped him for pulling me out of that feeling with Kirsty.
"Let's get another drink." She said taking me by the arm and leading me back to the house.
Before we could get one we were roped into the set piece shots with the other photographer. I gave Hannah and Yogi a big hug. They both tried to apologise for not being able to catch up, and I told them not to be so stupid. I agreed that I'd come and join them for drinks later when most of the family had cleared out. The photographer made me go through a number of poses with them, and it appeared like Kirsty and I were an item. Then he wanted a couple of just Yogi and me.
"You two found each other then?" Yogi said to me while we waited for the guy to sort his flash out.
"Looks like it." I said back. I don't think Yogi expected me to say much else because, well, I had made an arse of myself more times than I could count about not getting together with Kirsty over the years. We used to get pretty drunk and every now and then I'd do a long drawn out whine about how I should've done something different, and he always used to say I should go find her. I'd always say it was useless, she didn't want a soldier. It turns out that Yogi is always, even on his own wedding day, a really good friend to me - and a fucking sneaky one because he'd never mentioned it while we discussed who he was inviting.
I knew it had been a total set up from the start when we went to be seated because Kirsty was placed next to me. Even if we hadn't spotted each other earlier, Hannah and Yogi had made it impossible for us to miss each other. From the head table I could see them watching for us to work it out. He tipped me a theatrical wink and I'm pretty sure I just shook my head and tossed him a casual salute back. Kirsty actually blushed which surprised me more than anything else.
The meal was awkward to say the least. We were sitting with four other people on a big round table that neither I nor Kirsty knew. Frankly, I didn't really want to know them either. I hadn't seen Kirsty for years and there I was making small talk with a group of people, instead of enjoying a more private conversation with just her. She absolutely dazzled the two men however, and I enjoyed the fact she provoked that response in them, and the sour looks on the other girl's faces. I'm not saying they were ugly; one was actually quite pretty. But both seemed plain compared to Kirsty and it clearly wasn't just my opinion.
Her dress was understated against what I was used to seeing her in, and the halter neck didn't play to her strongest features because she had small breasts (although it set her neck and jawline off very well). Kirsty, I knew, had one of the most perfect arses I had ever laid eyes on. I'd seen her in bikinis and underwear over the years, but actually even just a well-fitting pair of trousers on her would be enough to get me hard. The fucking dress flared too much to tell what it was like now - although I was struggling for my composure enough as it was. Catching an eyeful of that particular asset would probably be too much.
The dinner came to an end and I had hardly eaten anything. I don't think it was nerves as much as just being excited. We had shared little glances as we ate. The other people assumed I was Kirsty's partner, and we let them, grinning to each other, wanting to believe the lie. The sun was getting lower in the sky and the light held a magical quality as it lit up Kirsty's wide smile and big, bright eyes. I couldn't stop looking at her. She was busy playing up to the men as my internal dialogue was trying to make sense of the situation and my feelings. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt that I was besotted by her. There was a voice in my head suggesting I could leave the army for her if that's what it was going to take. I couldn't believe I was even contemplating it. I was in trouble. My emotions were running much deeper than I had anticipated; I thought I was confused by lust, or maybe drink. Deep down I knew better. I was trying not to ask myself if this was love.
Yogi and Hannah shared their first dance which was probably more comical than romantic as they're both piss-poor dancers but we gave them a cheer for the entertainment. Kirsty led me onto the floor as the next song started. My hands found her waist as she wrapped her arms around my neck. The proximity of her hit me in the pit of my stomach, and I was reminded how much I wanted her physically. We weren't really dancing close, but for me, it was making me so excited that my muscles were tingling. Kirsty looked up at me and those big eyes made me feel like I was unravelling.
"Did I tell you; you look stunning tonight?" I asked her, almost accidentally. She giggled slightly and her face seemed to change, becoming more predatory, her eyes narrowing.
"No, I'm afraid you've failed in terms of complimenting me for most of the day actually."
"It's all I've been thinking about really." I admit.
"Perhaps. But you didn't actually tell me did you?" I laugh.
"Are you fishing for compliments, Kirsty? I wouldn't have thought you are short of them."
"A girl can never have enough nice things said about her." She flashes an innocent eye lash flutter. We aren't really dancing anymore, merely standing at the side of the floor talking. Kirsty gives me a wicked grin before saying "You're looking pretty good yourself - certainly bulked up a bit." She squeezes my upper arm before running her hand onto my chest. I feel the situation becoming charged by the touch, as her hand moves across to lightly finger a row of medals on the other side of my uniform. Each one is a story that I don't want to have to tell her as she leans in close to read the inscriptions.
"These are real ones?" She says, half joking, and I laugh, probably in relief that the conversation has stayed light. She looks up at me then, a little startled with a quirky unsure expression, and I feel like I have never wanted to kiss a girl as much as I wanted to kiss her then. Her face literally mesmerises me and there are butterflies in my stomach as I realise I'm leaning forward. Of its own accord, one of my hands has found its way to the nape of her neck and I'm pulling her towards me. Her eyes close just before we kiss.
It's a soft, gentle, almost chaste kiss; delicate and brief. We pull apart by a matter of inches, enough that we can look into the others eyes. Her eyes are burning brightly with passion, and I'm sure are a reflection of my own. I want her desperately and I feel my lust driving away the softer emotions I was feeling moments before. I want to have her completely; I want to hear her moan with satisfaction. I want to taste all of her. We kiss again, this time almost savagely, each of us pulling the other as close as possible, her tongue instantly parting my lips and I revel in how much she wants me in return.
Someone wolf whistles and we break our embrace but remain holding hands. There is a look we share that reassures the other there will be much more of to come later. From that moment on I don't want to let her go. I am so fuelled by lust I just want to fuck her, to just forget the reception and take her back to my room. Kirsty's friends have come over and they're chatting to her, talking about everything except the obvious fact she's holding hands with me. Kirsty turns to me with a helpless expression and I give an almost imperceptible shrug that lets her know its ok to continue talking - even though inside my impatience feels like it will consume me. After a couple of minutes it becomes almost awkward how they are avoiding the situation and I know Kirsty just wants to get the girl chat over with so I ask her what she's drinking.
"Vodka and coke." She says loudly "At the double, private!" I laugh and I hear an old woman say that she needs to get herself a soldier too. I slink through the crowd of people which has grown from the ceremony significantly. There are a lot more ex-school friends now, and I end up chatting to several on the way there, and even more on the way back. By the time I get there Kirsty's friends have been replaced by a guy obviously trying his luck. I can't blame him because she looks like a sexy little Japanese anime character come to life. There's just no-one else like her here. I find I'm actually getting my kicks watching her fend off the unwanted attention until she spots me and makes her way over.
"Didn't feel like saving me then?" She asks with mock anger. I hand her the drink and slide my hand around her waist.
"You don't need me to do that. Besides, I like watching you." She smirks at me.
"You better want to do more than look." The lust on her face is vivid. Raw. Christ, my breathing actually catches. I really want to tear her dress from her but now is not the time, and over the top of Kirsty's head I can see Yogi waving at me.
"We'd better go and show our faces." I put my hand on the small of her back and guide her through the throng to where Yogi is standing. He's looking a little worse for wear now and hangs an arm round my neck once I'm within range and smacks a kiss on my cheek.
"Congratulations mate." I laughingly say to him "Where's your better half gone?" In a slightly slurred voice Yogi says.
"No idea! Since I put that ring on her I've seen a whole lot less of her!" I give him a little dig in the ribs.
"You want to cut back on the drinking, old chap - you want to perform tonight don't you?" He laughs at me.
"Looks like I'm not the only one." He hits me with another wink. "I'm actually surprised you're still here..." He lets his gaze fall on Kirsty and then back to me.
"Let me just have a celebratory drink with you and your wife and then that's my duties carried out."
We sit down and have a couple of drinks with Yogi, but there's so many people wanting to talk to him it's almost pointless. Hannah turns up and we manage to have a quick chat with her; but with both of them there we seem almost walled in with well-wishers. I make a deal with Yogi that I'll catch him for a late lunch tomorrow and make my way out of the crowd. One of the best parts about the friendship I have with those two is that we never stand on ceremony, and it's understood that we will have the least time with each other in these sorts of situations because we can more than make up for it later on. I know they have a lot of extended family, some they've never met before, that are only here for the day. We'll always have the next day, or the next week, or year, to enjoy each other's company. Although I'm betting they're not going to be too talkative tomorrow with the amount of drinking they've been doing.
Kirsty leads me through the packed room while coloured lights flash and Satus Quo plays on the sound system. I can't see him, but I know Yogi's brother-in-law will be dancing like mad to this somewhere. It's looking like it's going to be a wild night but I couldn't care less because I know where we are going now. I'm so charged up for this my body feels at bursting point. Kirsty doesn't look round until we are out of the door and down a little corridor that no-one seems to be using. She spins around and her little body slams me up against a wall with real force. Her mouth hungrily fixes on mine, and our breathing quickly becomes ragged. She moans into our kiss as my hands grip her arse and almost lifts her off the floor. I can feel how hard I am as she's pressed against me.
I've kissed a lot of girls but this felt like something else entirely. Kirsty liked to lick at my lips, or rub them with her thumb while she kissed. It felt exotic, teasing, and when she bit my bottom lip it seemed to set me on fire. I had moved a hand into her short hair and was squeezing it tightly as I guided her mouth to mine, and she responded to the sharp pain eagerly by running her hand between us and gripping my cock.
"I want this now." She sighed breathlessly. "Let's go to my room," I didn't argue at all. We walked quickly through the hotel, Kirsty's hair already messed but it only made her look hotter. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest as she fumbled the key into the lock. The door banged open and we entered her room. I engaged the lock and turned back to Kirsty.
She was standing with her back to me, and somehow the situation felt different, as if now we were here there was no need to rush. Instinctively I flicked a light on and got the one right next to the door which seemed to shine down on her and nothing else. I realised directly in front of her was a dressing table with the bed around a corner of a room which I presumed would be the en suite. I assumed she would get on the bed, but she wasn't moving. I walked up behind her and kissed her shoulders while running my fingernails down her back, which automatically arched as my touch, dropped lower.
"Take my dress off?" She murmured to me, her head tilted to one side and I could see our silhouette in a mirror in front of us. The knot of the bow came undone relatively easily and the front of the dress fell forward. It had a zip on the side, and my fingers were shaking as I slowly pulled it down. Her dress dropped to the floor to reveal nothing more than a lace thong. I had to remind myself to breathe.
Before I could touch her she walked slowly away from me and I was put a little off-balance, not knowing how it was going to work, or what she wanted me to do. I found myself simply watching her perfect little body move. Fuck her arse really was as good as I remembered; it didn't have much of a sway to it, but it was tight, so tight. She pulled the chair in front of the dresser round to the side and knelt upon it, her arse high as she rested her elbows next to her make up. And then she looked round at me.
With the light behind me her eyes sparkled as she simply waited for me. It was the sort of scene that you only see in films; she was so unbelievably sexy, back arched in the most delicate and feminine way with an unreadable expression on her face. I didn't want to be delicate with her though. Inside my head the absolute most base and primal thoughts were thrashing through my imagination, pushing my desire higher than it had been before. Having spent almost all of the day in a state of perpetual arousal, seeing her like this was more than I could take.
My response wasn't as I'd imagine it would be; I wanted to look at her. I hadn't been joking earlier when I said I had enjoyed watching her, and now that feeling was multiplied. I felt as though I was inside a photograph that I had always wanted to take. I shrugged my jacket off, my eyes never leaving her. She stared straight back at me, not quite smiling. The sexual tension was virtually tangible, like static in the air and I knew this whole situation was beyond anything I had experienced before. There was so much left unsaid between Kirsty and I, but top of the list was just how fucking turned on we could make each other. It had always been there. Always. Now we were both in the same room, with nothing to stop us, and I think we were drunk on our own lust. Before we fucked we were going to enjoy this moment, which had been building up for years and then left to steep for longer still. Now we would indulge in each other fully.
It took me longer to get out of my shirt than normal as my fingers were literally shaking with pent up excitement. By the time I had taken everything off my eyes had adjusted to the light and I could see little details that were previously lost in the shadows; like the little anklet Kirsty wore that seemed to enhance her nakedness that much more with the exception of her panties and shoes. As I moved closer to her I could see she was breathing heavily, essentially panting; desire plain on her face. As soon as I touched her hips with my fingertips she dropped her head and just waited with her shoulders heaving for air.
I felt my cock press against her arse and it made me throb. I looked down to see I was leaking pre-cum so much her cheeks were already becoming slick. My hips shifted forward and the light friction felt so good it made me shiver. Stepping back I hooked a finger into Kirsty's thong and gently peeled the material away from her body, relishing the resistance as her it came free from her pussy lips. My crooked finger slid further down and I could feel the fabric absolutely saturated with her desire. I pulled it to one side, weaving it into my fingers as I spread her cheeks to view her pussy. As her lips opened I could see her juices literally ooze out of her, and this was enough of a sensation to make her groan.
I was so hard that it hurt when I used my thumb to angle my cock down so that the swollen head nudged against Kirsty's wet hole. We both held our breaths then, I could sense her whole body go rigid as soon as she felt me there, and every muscle in my own body was tensed. I thought it would be easy to slide into her because she was soaked but I couldn't have been more wrong. She was already so aroused her pussy was squeezing before I had even started to fuck her. I had to grit my teeth and slowly force my way into her. It felt out of this world. I managed to get the head in before needing to hold her body more firmly; I clasped her tiny waist with one hand and with the other reached up to her shoulder and pulled her onto me. As I sunk into her I could feel her pussy periodically clench and I could hear she was gasping; sweat had broken out on her back and glittered in the soft light - I was desperately close to cumming.
The instant my balls bottomed out against her I could feel the wetness there and it made me throb inside her; her pussy instantly squeezed back. I groaned with the pressure building up inside me and my whole body was screaming for the relief of an orgasm that had been building up all day. I didn't want to drag my thoughts away from the moment but I had to think about something, anything, else or I would cum almost as soon as I was inside her. I wanted it to be worth the wait but I wasn't sure I could wait any longer. Normally when I fuck there is time to get used to the sensation, to become calm enough to move without the pleasure overtaking me. I dare not move inside Kirsty I was that close. I had to close my eyes and stop looking at her beautiful body I was that close. I could do nothing to prevent my ears from listening to her small moans and heavy breathing, any more than I could turn off the ripples of excitement that coursed through me when her pussy spasmed against my cock.
Just as I thought I had gotten myself under control, Kirsty lifted her head and I looked at her in the mirror. Her expression was beyond description; completely lost in passion. I could only see one of her eyes because her hair covered the other, but her expression was almost feral. For the briefest moment we shared a look that burned through everything else except a deep and unrelenting need to have the other. There was nothing else. I didn't want to move but Kirsty, ever so slightly, pushed back against me. Her eyes squeezed shut and her head dropped.
"Fuck" She spat out in a whisper. "Fuck... I can't... Fuck" All the while I could feel her pussy contracting harder and harder in waves on my cock. I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached, and I unconsciously dug my fingers into Kirsty's skin, pulling her against me so she couldn't move anymore because I couldn't take the sensation. There was an overwhelming instinct to pull my hips back and drive into her but I'm sure that is all it would take for me to lose control.
She banged her dainty little fist on the dresser, knocking several objects over, and I can see the strain in her muscles all the way up her arm and into her back. She almost growls out a moan, starting quietly but quickly getting louder.
"Please... For fuck sake... I'm going to... Please." Her pussy pulses again and again. With each squeeze my cock twitches back, it's so hard there doesn't seem enough room in her pussy, and we're feeding off these small movements, both trying to hold back from an orgasm that is screaming towards us. The rest of her body starts to buck and I'm lost to everything now, sensations seem to blend into each other and I'm fucking her hard; fucking her even though I'm so sensitive I can barely stand it. My eyes close as I fight the intensity of it, but I want to see her at the same time, and my vision becomes a strobe of her flesh. I look down at her arse, which is so taught it barely moves as I fuck her, and watch as my cock pushes and pulls her lips. There's a ring of frothy liquid around the base of it which I know I want to see her lick off later, and the thought drives me wild. Drives me into her even harder.
This extra force is more than Kirsty can cope with, and her words become totally incoherent as her orgasm finally crashes into her. She starts to buck her hips like mad against me as she screams through gritted teeth that drags my release from me. My hand comes off her shoulder and grabs a fist full of her short hair, pulling her back against me. It seems like my entire lower torso is being pulled into her as my balls begin to pump cum up my shaft. I think I might have been shouting out as I thrust viciously into her, but all I can hear is Kirsty's animal cries as she climaxes - her whole body rigid, her back trying to curve away from me, and her cunt squeezing so tightly it feels like she will force my cock out of her. I am using all the strength in my body to stay lodged as deeply inside her as I can, while I fill her with long heavy spurts of cum.
We seem to stay like that for an eternity as I empty myself into her, and her own spasms demand more as her pussy milks me. In the quiet that remains all I can hear is our laboured breathing and my own pulse rushing in my ears. I look into the mirror at my sweat soaked reflection and Kirsty lying with her face pressed exhaustedly onto the devastated dresser top, and I smile. I run my fingertip along her spine, between her cheeks and onto her wet pussy which makes her shudder. Absent-mindedly I taste her, enjoying the moment, the reverberating sensations of Kirsty's orgasm on my still hard cock. The whole thing was years of foreplay and the sex lasted maybe five minutes. It was the best sex of my life.
Kirsty lifted herself up and arched herself so we could kiss and we stayed like that looking into the mirror as I stroked her body and she slowly ground her hips against me. The sexual tension had reduced to a level I could cope with but I wasn't surprised to find my cock stayed hard. There was something about this girl that mesmerised me as I watched our reflection; her arms reaching back to stroke my cropped hair while my fingers tickled her skin from her breasts to her hips. She simply smiled at me, the cat that got the cream look while I licked the sweat from the nape of her neck. As I nuzzled into her hair she said.
"That was nothing like how I imagined it." Between kisses I mumbled against her skin.
"Me either. I thought there'd be a bed." She giggled.
"There is a bed. You're not done yet, soldier" I let my hips drop and then slowly pushed inside her again which made her gasp.
"Stamina isn't a problem, Ma'am." Kirsty was almost purring as I slowly stroked in and out of her and I was enjoying the sensation just as much. I leaned back to watch how our bodies met and in the dim light I could make out the dimples just above Kirsty's arse. Both of my hands reached down to her hips, thumbs finding those depressions in her back as if they were designed for it. She grasped the edge of the dresser with both hands and started to meet my thrusts. Although her eyes still smiled every now and then I could see her grit her teeth as she bumped back harder. It felt fantastic but actually it was the look on her face that I was getting off on. I'd never been with a girl like this. I had known from day one that Kirsty would be a sexual person, but this was... this was fucking magical. She was so responsive, the small sounds she made, the way she would arch herself was beautiful; I could feel myself being drawn into her spell again.
One of her little hands took hold of my wrist, I thought for balance; as she leaned back seeking my lips. We both loved this off-centre way of kissing; brushing and licking each other's lips. We were smiling while we were doing it, and I was now in the moment with her. I wasn't worried about cumming too soon, or being in control, I was just trying to absorb every sensation that this amazing girl was giving me. But her hand wasn't there for support at all. She pulled her face from mine with an evil grin and then looked to the mirror as she guided my hand across her smooth skin, down between her legs.
Our eyes locked as she pressed my fingers against her pubic bone and then firmly pushed my hand lower, inside her thong. As soon as I felt her hard clit beneath my fingers her eyes closed while her head tipped back and she moaned softly. I felt the slight contraction along my shaft and smiled at the thought of Kirsty's growing arousal. She came back to me and fixed me with a sassy little look as she began to guide my fingertips over her, setting the pressure and the motion to her taste.
"Yes, just like that." She murmured. I decided to reduce the speed of my thrusts to the slowest I could manage. "Fuck yes... I like that." I could tell because she was starting to tighten up once more, and the friction was beginning to really get to me. Every time I pushed forward I could feel all the way inside her, and the sensation on the head of my cock was causing it to swell even more.
Part of me revelled in this sensation, part of me wanted to just let loose and fuck her senseless. My spare hand snaked round her body to cup underneath her breast and when my thumb and forefinger found her hard nipple I squeezed hard. Harder than I should have done, but the sight of her in the mirror and the feeling of her wrapped around me was bringing out the animal in me - and if I wasn't going to fuck her hard my body felt like it should do something with the pent up energy. Kirsty instantly moaned, and moaned loudly, then hissed through her teeth.
"Harder." I almost didn't dare to, but I could feel her need growing as her hips started to work back and forth. Her eyes squeezed shut and she virtually shouted "Harder!" and I pinched as hard I could and even used the edge of my thumbnail to cause that extra level of pain that she must have been seeking because she really started to thrash her head from side to side. Her hand was pushing mine onto her clit with a pressure that I would never have thought to apply to such a sensitive area, but she wanted more. Much more. I felt like I was only just scratching the surface with Kirsty.
I had thought I had known her, how sexual she was, how you could tell she wasn't just acting the role out for attention; but I realised I'd under-estimated this side of her. The image that moved in the mirror was pure eroticism; my hand on her clit, her panties pushed to one side, and her little hand pressing into mine. She kept bucking her hips forward to get more pressure and I would press my hand into her, forcing her back onto my cock - but slowly, so we could feel every sensation. Kirsty's body was now starting to take over her movements entirely as it instinctively sought to find the touch she needed. It was obvious to me that she needed her clit thoroughly rubbed and wasn't as interested in being fucked. I let my hip movements cease and concentrated on my fingers which delved underneath her to coat them in her own juices, before returning to her hard little bud. The added lubrication made Kirsty moan in delight and she began to buck rhythmically against my hand as I started to bite gently at her neck rather than just kissing and licking as I had been doing before.
"Mm god that feels fucking good." She said between her little moans "Rub it faster." Her hand urged mine to increase speed as her body started to tighten with desire. Her relaxed attitude was being overrun by the passion building inside her. In the mirror her expression was no longer smiling, she wore a small frown, jaw clenched, and the tension clear in her petite face framed by her wild hair. She looked so sexy I felt my own arousal build and couldn't help but slam several hard thrusts into her.
"Fuck me, yes, fuck me harder." She was panting and moaning, her hips completely out of control - her whole body was. I wrapped my arm around her breasts tightly and I could feel the force of her body squirming of its own accord. But I needed to fuck her now; I needed to do it for my own pleasure. The urge, the sensation of my own orgasm building, was seeping through my muscles and compelling me to abandon restraint. Kirsty wriggled against my chest as I held her against me, and I pushed myself hard into her, forcing her body to conform to mine as her muscles convulsed with her impending orgasm. I could feel her cunt gripping my cock tighter and tighter, and I was dancing on the very edge of losing control.
Somewhere in my mind I made a commitment that I would not allow myself to cum with her this time; I wanted to continue enjoying her longer and to do that I needed to stay hard. I'd been lucky the first time because I was so aroused that one orgasm simply wasn't enough, but it wouldn't happen again. So I made a pact with myself to hold back and simply make the most of this perfect girl as she started to let go completely.
It was beautiful, entirely erotic, as I watched Kirsty climax. I held her to me as she whispered she was going to cum, an insistent mantra, over and over. Her little face was tightly screwed shut and with each sharp thrust of my hips she hissed these words between her clenched teeth. Where she had been meeting my movements she now almost tried to avoid them, but every time I tried to be a little gentler she would almost shout at me to fuck her harder. I was using all my strength to hold her in place so I could get into a good rhythm but she writhed and bucked to the point I gave up and just forced my cock into her however I could. She didn't care; all that mattered was that I rub her clit hard while I smashed my pelvis against her, her whole body shuddering with each impact. I could feel her pulse around my shaft, and she held her breath while her whole body went rigid. I fucked her as hard as I could until she cried out, her orgasm taking over her body entirely as the waves of her climax washed over her. The strength had gone from her shaking legs entirely and I discovered I was supporting all of her weight while she gulped air into her lungs, gasping sharply with each small movement between our bodies.
My own breathing is heavy from the exertion but quickly returning to normal, however I realise holding her like this is beginning to make my own legs ache. Very slowly I allow myself to slip out of her which makes Kirsty whimper, and supporting, her I stand her up. Quickly she turns around and throws her arms around my neck and I pull her against my sweat streaked body. We kiss, languidly, breaking often to allow Kirsty to gather her breath, both smiling with satisfaction. My hands cup underneath her arse to help her stand, while my fingertips gently stroke her wet lips and tease the edge of her tightest hole. She rests her head against my shoulder and I hear her say;
"You live up to your reputation." I laugh, not sure if she is joking or not, but reply;
"I think you exceed yours, Kirsty. We should have done that before." She looks up at me and gently kisses the point of my chin.
"Nah, I am glad we waited." I raise an eyebrow to this as my fingers reach under her, slipping into her soft folds. She gently exhales with a slight smile on her face. "I don't think either of us would have made tonight what it is five years ago. I didn't really know what a man liked when I was younger."
"I don't believe you." Kirsty slowly grinds against my hand and then looks into my eyes and says.
"It's true. I always used to think to please a guy I had to do something to him, like a special way of touching or fucking. But it's not true is it?"
"It's not?" I'm genuinely not sure what she is thinking as her little hands trace down my back.
"Nope, the trick to being a good fuck is to enjoy yourself. Men like to think they've fucked a girl properly, that's what makes them feel good." She pulls away from me and I feel her fingertips stroke around my sides and follow my abs slowly downwards. "Of course, there are times when a girl gets some pleasure by giving..." Her fingers run up along my hand shaft, nails lightly scratching the soft skin. I slowly breathe out, the sensation making my cock instantly rigid. She looks me in the eye and says "I've wanted to know what this feels like for years." Kirsty gently pumps her hand up and down, gliding easily because my cock is coated with her cum.
"Lick it clean." I simply tell her.
"Yes, Sir." She whispers back.
My eyes open to bright sunshine as I had forgotten to close the curtains, and I wonder how I have got away with not having a hangover until my brain forgets tradition and remembers the night before. I slide my foot across the bed until it bumps lightly into Kirsty's leg. She's still there. I realise I can hear her breathing even though she's turned away from me. We had both tried to fall asleep in each other's arms but actually, we were just too hot. I don't move as I don't want to wake her; it's stupid early in the morning and I figure I'll fall asleep again as I've only had a couple of hours sleep. Unfortunately I'm hard again, and I know that's going to keep me awake - especially knowing I have such a sexy girl lying naked next to me. I smile. I am extremely happy with this situation, even though I am already considering what the future may bring. I picture all the scenarios of what might happen when Kirsty wakes up. Perhaps she will stay with me? Perhaps she'll come with me to eat with Yogi and Hannah? Perhaps we will leave and go back to hers? Or, perhaps she'll realise I'm due to leave again in four months and decide to leave straight away.
Kirsty stirs and I feel the bed move, followed by her snuggling up against back. I feel her hand reach around and slowly stroke me.
I don't think she is in any hurry to leave.
