Part 1

Prologue:

Many moons ago, well over ten years ago, I did something foolish that I am now strongly regretting. It was, I now realize, a very irresponsible thing to do, although at the time it had seemed the best option to solve a painful situation. It was a gut reaction and I did it to prove that I loved my girlfriend.

As a result of that decision at that time, it seemed that I was about to lose everything I held dear.

How did I get in that position? Well, it was simple really; all those years ago, I’d just proposed to my girlfriend in the most romantic way I could think of.

It was on a moonlit beach in Thailand, and instead of saying yes as I, and all our friends had expected. She hugged me and wrapped my fingers back around the ring I’d just offered to her. Then she whispered in my ear those four fateful words.

“We need to talk.”

I kept on smiling as she stepped back, mostly because I didn’t know what else to do, and she smiled back at me. Our friends all assumed she’d said yes. They all crowded around her, and while they were all occupied, I took the opportunity to slip away. I snagged a cool bag with a pack of beer and an almost full bottle of vodka in it and walked off down the beach.

The beginning.

I’d met my girlfriend, Karen a year before that fateful evening; we met at one of the University’s many summer balls. I say I met her, but the truth was, she fell into my arms. She stumbled as she walked past me and I instinctively put out my arms to catch her. I held her tightly, staring into the most mesmerizing pair of blue eyes I’d ever seen.

I don’t know why I did it, but I just couldn’t help myself. I gave her a big kiss. She started, then relaxed and gave back as good as she got.

After our lips parted and she recovered her equilibrium, I was tongue tied and barely managed to stammer out, “Hi.”

She looked at me with those mesmerizing eyes and wrinkled her cute nose. She said, “Now you’ve tasted the delights of my lips, I think you should be a gentleman and introduce yourself.”

While still holding her in my arms I told her my name. “I’m Neil, Neil de Jong.”

She raised her eyebrows in a question. “De Jong, that’s a rather unusual name.”

“I know, my father’s Dutch and my mother’s English,” I explained as I had many times before, “but I’ve lived here all of my life.” I gabbled on, not wanting to let her walk away, “My parents and sister moved back to Holland last year to take over the family farm.” I stopped talking as I saw her looking at me with the beginning of a smile creasing her lips.

“So, Neil de Jong, do you usually kiss women who fall into your arms?”

“Only the very pretty ones,” I replied. “And just whose delicious tasting lips did I enjoy?”

She giggled and gave me another flash of her beautiful eyes, “I’m Karen.”

“Well, Karen of the delightful lips, I thank you for the loan, I really enjoyed them.”

She gave the most delightful little laugh and took my hand. “Are you here with someone?” she asked.

I shook my head, “No one special; my flatmates had a spare ticket. If I know them, they are probably propping up the bar.”

She gestured at a table across the room with two women seated at it, “Come and join us, I’m here with my flatmates as well, Cindy and Jill.”

She turned, took my hand, and we started in their direction. Her long blond hair swept down her back, contrasting against the black silk of her formal gown. She stood five foot ten in her three-inch heels, she was slim and from what I could see from her cleavage, had full firm breasts.

We walked over and she introduced me to her friends as the gentleman kiss stealer who’d saved her from falling on her ass.

Meeting Karen turned an indifferent evening into an outstanding one. My two flatmates, Paul and Mike, were able to pry themselves from the sanctuary of the bar to join us, and we partied the night away. I’m not the worlds greatest dancer, but with my arms around Karen I felt supreme. Her hair smelled divine as she rested her head on my shoulder. Her body felt perfect as it pressed against mine. In the beginning, I’d attempted to maintain a semblance of decorum. She had pulled me close and hung on tight.

We ended the night watching the sun rose over the trees lining the far bank of the river that ran through the university grounds. I greeted the dawn, sitting on the grass with my back against an oak tree. She rested her head on my thigh, and I gently stroked her long blond hair. We sipped champagne from the bottle we’d managed to liberate earlier. Every now and again she would capture my hand, bring it to her mouth and kiss it.

I knew I was falling in love with the beautiful woman lying by my side, and from her actions, I felt sure she felt something for me. We’d talked through the evening. She told me about herself; she was in her last year studying for a degree in economics, and she was twenty-one. Her full name was Karen Phillips, and her family lived in Cornwall.

She, in turn, discovered that I was twenty-six and in the midst of my last year of studying for my doctorate in biochemistry.

We met up for a second time later in the week, and the magic of that first wonderful evening still infused us. We ended that second date in my bed where we confirmed that our compatibility was complete and all encompassing.

We became ever closer over the next couple of months. Our bodies, our minds, were so in tune with each other that we could talk for hours, baring our souls before falling into bed and consuming each other. Our friends knew it would be only time before I asked her to marry me.

What was important to us was our ability to talk frankly; there didn’t seem to be an issue that we couldn’t or wouldn’t discuss, but I thought I could sense the briefest of hesitation from her whenever I would try to discuss our future. I guessed that it was because of the difference in our ages. She would occasionally comment on how much more world-wise I was, compared to her, and how she wanted to see the world. I tried to reassure her with promises of travel and adventure, but it didn’t seem to work. Afterwards, she would just shrug it off and say how much she loved me.

There was one fly in the ointment that constantly grated on me. Despite the fact, she spent most of her free time with me, she resisted taking that last step and completely move in. For some reason only known to her, she kept hold of her room in her old flat. She was happy to leave clothes and books in my room; she took over more than half of my drawers and wardrobe, but every now and again, every couple of weeks or so, I’d get a call, and she’d that she’d be staying the night in her room at the flat she still technically shared, and I wasn’t to disturb her.

I’d been plagued all along with an uneasy sense that this was all a dream, and I’d wake up alone. She was young, beautiful and very popular; I wasn’t; that was the simple truth. I didn’t understand what she saw in me. I had to keep pinching myself every time I saw her, just to convince myself that it was real.

I was the quiet studious type, the complete opposite from the group of fun lovers that made up the bulk of Karen’s friends. I was five foot eleven and fairly fit as a result of the rowing I did in the little spare time I had, but even there I wasn’t a team player; I rowed alone in single sculls. I’d never considered myself handsome, I was just the boy next door

Because of this insecurity, I succumbed to my fears and followed her when she next called to say she was staying at her flat that night. Of course, nothing happened. She met up with Cindy and Jill at a local wine bar. They were joined by a fourth woman, a former flatmate called Pauline. After an hour they went out for a meal and then back to the flat for the rest of the night. I sat shivering on a cold park bench until the lights went out at two-thirty in the morning. All I achieved for my efforts was a nasty chest infection and an understanding that she, like all of us, occasionally needed her own space.

I hate using the hackneyed term ‘soul mate’, but that’s what she was to me. She came with me to my parent’s farm in Holland for Christmas, and she got the seal of approval from both my mother and my Dutch grandparents.

I went with her to celebrate New Year with her family in Padstow in Cornwall. They lived in a rambling old farmhouse overlooking the sea, a mile outside the village. Her parents were very nice as was her older brother. Her older sister Robyn was a bit odd to me. My impression was that she liked me, but every now and again I’d glimpse what I thought was a fleeting look of pity when she looked at me. Late on New Year’s Eve when she was more than a couple of drinks worse for wear, she cornered me.

She turned to me and said earnestly, “How do you cope with her flatmates and... ?” Her voice trailed off.

“What do you mean?”

She gave me a deep soul-baring look and was about to answer when Karen interrupted us and dragged me away to meet her cousin who’d just arrived.

Later I saw Robyn and Karen in an animated discussion in the kitchen that turned into a hug when they saw me looking. Karen reached out and pulled me in close to her and said in my ear, “I love you so much it makes my chest hurt.”

Robyn said, “She does, you know, I’ve never seen her like this with a man since she grew boobs and was old enough to attract them.”

“Robyn!” Karen exclaimed, and Robyn laughed and wandered off.

I was walking on air for the rest of the evening.

Her father wanted a talk later the next day. We retreated to his study, and he poured me a glass of whisky.

“So what are your intentions regarding my daughter?” he asked.

I looked at him earnestly and said, “I’ve two sir, to get my doctorate, and when the time is right, to ask Karen to marry me.”

“Please don’t call me sir, I’m Charles.”

“Thank you.”

“So when would you ask her then?”

“After she’s graduated. We want to go traveling over the summer, and I thought I’d ask her then.”

“So where are you thinking of going?”

“Karen has been talking about going to Australia and New Zealand; I have a nice legacy that my aunt left me so I can easily cover our expenses. Some of our friends are going to Thailand for the summer, and we’d like to meet up with them for a couple of weeks on our way there.”

I took a sip from my glass. “I’ve already been offered a great research job after I get my doctorate. It’s with a major cancer research centre, and they’ve offered to find us a place to live.”

He smiled, “That sound like a worthwhile job. I think you are just what my daughter needs. She talks about you all the time, I’d be happy if you were to join our family.” He held out his hand, and I shook it.

The next few months passed in a blur for us as we each prepared for our final exams, and I struggled to finish my dissertation. Our sex life just got better and better. Although just as before, every few weeks she would go out with her old flatmates and occasionally a couple of other girlfriends and spend the night in her old room. One time they all disappeared for a weekend at a country house spa, and she teased me with the barest of descriptions.

We travelled to Paris for the Easter vacation. Our days were spent exploring the historic sites and the museums, and we indulged each other’s sexual fantasies at night. Recharged and invigorated we entered headlong into the last months of our university education. Those last months, we barely saw each other during the day, only to collapse exhausted in the evening and spend the nights cuddling each other as we slept.

I walked out of my final exam feeling as though I’d pulled through a wringer backwards. I collapsed on a bench in the quadrangle, utterly exhausted. Karen had finished her exams a week earlier and I realized as I sat there, I hadn’t seen her since the evening we’d briefly celebrated her last exam.

I sat still enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face for what seemed like ages, until I registered a presence beside me and a warm hand took mine. I opened my eyes, and once again, I fell headlong into her mesmerizing blue eyes.

“I missed you,” I told her.

“And I missed you,” she said softly. “You were so immersed in studying I’ve been staying at my old flat to give you your room.”

“Don’t ever leave me again,” I whispered, and she wrapped her arms around me in a mute promise.

We made our way back to the flat and fell onto my bed in a frenzy of undressing. The sex was amazing, her body responding to my every move with wild abandonment. Mine was eager to please her in every way she desired or imagined.

The next few weeks were a flurry of activity as we prepared to move out of our various rooms. I wasn’t scheduled to start my research job until the beginning of September, and the apartment they were supplying wouldn’t be ready until then. I was going to stay with my parents in Holland for the first part of the summer. I was hoping that Karen would come with me.

That fell through because Karen was offered a position in the marketing team of a medium-sized advertising agency close to where I’d be working. They were eager for her to start as soon as possible, so eager, that they agreed to honour our holiday plans. She was due to start work at the beginning of July. Because my place wasn’t going to be ready in time, she was going to stay with one of her ex-flat mates for those few weeks.

Pauline’s flat was apparently too small for both of us, so Karen stayed there without me. Pauline was not happy when one time I showed up unannounced. It was only for a few weeks until our trip started so I just grinned and bore it.

Mid-June, both our families came to watch us graduate. My parents and my younger sister flew over from Holland. Hers took the train up from Cornwall. Karen received her degree, a first. The following day, I stood on a stage to receive my doctorate.

The last week in July saw us back together. We and our friends were on a flight to Bangkok. Karen and I were going to stay with our friends for the first two weeks of our trip.

There were eight of us on that first part of the vacation. Our companions were Cindy and Jill, her old flatmates. Then there was Samantha and Georgie, who were in a lesbian relationship. The last two were my old flatmates. We were going to spend two weeks in Thailand with the others before going on to Australia and New Zealand for a month. The others were going to stay a further two weeks.

We had rented a beachfront villa near Phuket for the group on the understanding that for the two weeks we were there, Karen and I got the main bedroom. There were three other bedrooms, and in the original agreement: the girls got two and the boys the last, but there seemed to be a fair amount of bed-surfing going on, so you were never too sure who was going to appear from which room. They seemed to be playing a complex version of bedroom shuffle in the last gasp celebration of their student life.

I think we were all nervous about what the future would bring us. I know I was, for more than one reason. Tucked away in a hidden corner of my backpack was my grandmother’s diamond and sapphire engagement ring. I was waiting for the right moment to give it to her.

We’d been in Thailand for the best part of a week and been having a great time with our friends. Those first days had been a heady mix of partying and relaxing. We’d discovered the best local bars and had enjoyed barbequing on the beach in front of the villa.

I’d hired a scooter so we could get a bit of time away from the others. That morning, Karen and I had driven along the coast a few miles until we spotted a track heading for the sea. At the end was a small isolated cove, and as luck would have it, there was not another soul to be seen. We were quick to claim it for Queen and country, spreading our towels as makeshift flags.

Karen knelt on her towel and grasped the hem of her tee-shirt, gradually lifting the garment off and over her head. There is a point in such an action when the woman’s face is buried in the shirt, and her body is on show. She cannot see anything, and it makes her feel sexy and at the same time vulnerable. She left it like that for a moment or two, as if to show her absolute trust, before lifting it clear and dropping it on the sand. She was smiling. She knew what she had done and what she was doing to me.

The bikini top was pure semi-translucent white, barely covering her breasts. I stared, and she looked smug as she caught the direction of my gaze. She stood, and I gazed up. She undid the clasp on her shorts and slowly pushed down the zip. The shorts made their way to the floor, revealing the micro bikini bottom. She picked up her shorts and, turning away, folded them and placed them in her beach bag. She was quite conscious that she was barely hiding the lower part of her bottom, the cheeks peeping from beneath the revealing bikini bottom, and her cleft tantalisingly half-hidden by such flimsy fabric. God, I loved this woman. My body responded in the only way it could, and my cock grew hard, tenting out my shorts.

She lay back on the towel, removed the bikini top and with one eye on me began to spread suntan oil over her firm ripe exposed breasts. Her full pink nipples stood proudly and inviting. I took the bottle from her and took over the application. She sighed and wrapped her arm around the back of my neck drawing my mouth down to her lips as I massaged the oil onto her breasts. Her nipples hardened under my palms, and she groaned in anticipation and need.

Running my slippery fingers down her abdomen, I slid them under the fabric of her bikini bottoms and let my fingers curl protectively over her mons.

“Oh God, I love it when you touch me there,” she gasped and spread her legs, inviting me to plunder further. I untied the ties at the side of the bikini bottoms, and with a slight of hand made them disappear. Her little blond tuft drew me down and she shuddered as I licked along her succulent pussy lips, tasting the sweet honey of her arousal. I licked and sucked her clit, my arousal painfully pressing against the hot sand.

She came with a muted cry as I pushed two fingers into the hot wet warmth of her pussy. She came again moments later as I caressed her G-spot, this time with a loud cry. Her legs tightened around my head, and I nibbled at her clit as she writhed under me.

“Oh holy fuck, what are you doing to me? I love you so much.”

I looked up at her flushed face as she rose to her elbows and peered down her body at me.

“I love the sweet taste of you,” I told her, “But now I just want to bury myself deep inside you.”

“Please,” she said, “fuck me; show me how much you love me.” She held her arms out to me inviting me to cover her body with mine.

I rose up and pulled my shorts off, tossing them over my shoulder. My rampant cock was as hard as I’d ever seen, and moments later, all seven inches drove into her willing passage.

I groaned as I slid into her tight wet pussy. The walls fluttered as they stretched to accommodate me.

“Oh fuck Yesss,” Karen gasped as I pressed down on her. Her legs arms and legs wrapped around me holding me in place.

She felt so wonderful, and I wanted to watch her face as she lost herself to the waves of pleasure that ran across her features when with slow, deliberate movements I thrust in and out of her. She met my thrusts, pushing up against me each time. Her mouth was open as she gasped each time the head of my cock ran across her G-spot. We moved to the rhythm of the waves lapping at the golden sand, both of us reaching our climaxes at the same time. Karen cried out incoherently, and I groaned as I came, cum pulsing out to coat her willing vessel.

We lay in the dappled shade of the coconut palms that fringed the sand. It was an afternoon of new delights. I can’t remember how many times we made love, on the towels or in the sea by the time the sun dipped below the horizon.

Finally, we dressed and rode the couple of miles back to the villa in the falling twilight. As we rode, Karen’s arms were wrapped tightly around me, and I could hear her murmuring in my ear.

“I love you; you make me feel complete.”

They were my sentiments as well, and I decided that tonight was the night I would ask her the question.

Through the pain, nausea and the constant throbbing in my head, I heard a jeep coming down the track to the beach, then voices and finally the sound of the jeep faded into the distance as it drove back up the track. I pried an eye open and winced at the bright afternoon light. Karen stood at the top of the beach beside my scooter that lay on its side. Her hand shaded her eyes as she searched for me.

She saw me sitting in the shade of a coconut palm, and I watched through bloodshot eyes as she walked over to me. She gave a little moan of horror as she saw the state I was in and took in the empty bottles that lay scattered around me. She knelt down on the sand beside me, holding her hands out to me. Her eyes were red from crying and were full of fresh tears. She could barely look at me.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper. “What did I do to you? I didn’t handle that well. You surprised me.”

“No, you handled it just fucking perfectly,” I said through gritted teeth, groaning slightly at the pain shooting through my head. “Your answer told me everything I needed to know.”

“Neil, please, love, talk to me. I love you. I’ve never loved anyone like you.”

I gave a small ironic laugh and buried my head in my hands as the pain skewered my brain redoubled in strength. I had to breathe deeply, swallowing to stop myself throwing up. Seeing her in front of me brought my reality crashing down on me again. I didn’t think I could feel any worse, but I was wrong. All my fears over the years that our relationship was a dream I would wake up from looked like they were justified. I wasn’t good enough for her, and she’d finally realised. She was still talking, and I had to concentrate to understand her words.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I only wanted to talk about it first.”

I lifted my head to look at her with despair tinged with a bit of anger written across my face. “Talk? All I asked was one simple question, there were only two possible answers. Either you wanted to marry me, or you didn’t. You didn’t say yes. I understand. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends.”

“Embarrassed me? Neil, you could never embarrass me. It was the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Yaeh right!” I shook my head and groaned as the pain stabbed from the back of my head to my eyes. “Shit,” I groaned, “What do you want, Karen? Can’t you see I want to be alone right now?”

“I want, I need you to talk to me, please, and we’ve always been able to. We can talk about anything. It’s one of the things that’s so great about being with you. I love you, Neil, with all my heart, but I’m just not sure if I’m ready to get married. Please, please can’t we go back to the villa and talk?”

“Why,” I asked, “We’re hardly going to be disturbed here.” I gestured around us at the deserted beach.

“Please, Neil,” she begged, “Come back to the villa, you need to eat something and get cleaned up. You smell like a brewery.”

I stood up and swayed, and then I had to hang onto the trunk of the palm tree as I lost the battle with my nausea and emptied the contents of my stomach over the sand. She held my arm, and I shrugged her off. I wiped my face and turned to walk back to my scooter.

I looked back over my shoulder and said despairingly, “Karen, I know when I’m not wanted; frankly, I’m surprised it’s taken you so long to get tired of me. I’m going to get my bags and go back to Bangkok. I’ll get a flight home. You enjoy your holiday.” She staggered back from me at the sound of utter despair in my voice.

“Please, no; you can’t leave me.” We both stood there crying, and she pulled me back into the shade of the palm trees, and we sat down again crying.

“Why didn’t you say yes?” I finally asked once we were both cried out, sitting there silently.

“I don’t know. I’ve been waiting months for you to ask me. But when you did, I panicked, and all of a sudden I was petrified.”

She gently caressed my matted hair. “For a few moments, I completely lost the whole direction our relationship had been moving. Dad hinted that you were going to ask me while we were away, and I couldn’t wait. Suddenly there you were kneeling at my feet holding out a ring. I froze, I swear my heart stopped beating for a few seconds. A montage flashed in front of my eyes of me married, tied down with children, my freedom lost.”

She whispered, “Look at me Neil, I’m almost twenty-two, I’ve done so little with my life compared to you, but I’ve got all these ideas, dreams, things I want to do.”

I reached out and tucked a lock of her blond hair behind her ear. Her face was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And I knew what I was going to say next was going to hurt. “I’ve got dreams as well,” I told her. “I’ve a list as long as my arm of things I want to do someday, but the big difference is, I wanted to do them with you. I can’t picture doing them without you with me ... but now I’m going to have to try, aren’t I.”

Karen looked pitiful, and she curled up looking out across the sea, her head on my lap. “I’ve been such an idiot,” she whispered. “I’ve spoiled the most important moment of my life. I love you so much. I’ve been hoping for a life with you, to grow old and wrinkled with you. I want to have your babies.”

She sat up and looked at me and said with a tremor of fear in her voice, “But I’m afraid. What if there’s something I want to do, and you don’t want to? Do I just give it up? Will I regret getting married before I’d done more with my life?”

“I can’t answer those questions,” I replied. “But I think the fact that you need to ask them tells me you aren’t ready.”

She shook her head, “That not true, I’m just panicking. I am ready, I know I’m ready, I want to be married to you.” She held out her hand imploringly to me.

I stood up and began walking to the fallen scooter, Christ, I’d left the keys in it. I was lucky that it hadn’t been stolen. I pulled them from the lock and contemplated throwing them away. It seemed fitting to throw them away just like Karen had thrown my happiness away.

She caught up with me as I was righting the scooter and almost knocked me down, throwing her arms around my waist and clinging to me. “Neil, I’m begging you. Please don’t do it. I love you so much it hurts. Yes, I’ll marry you, and I’ll do whatever it takes so you don’t leave me.”

I froze, indecision racked my very soul, and there was no doubt in my mind that I loved her. Loved her with every fibre of my body. I wrapped my arms around her. I so wanted to say yes, but how could I do that to her now.

“And if I agreed, how soon would it be before you hate me?” I asked. “It wouldn’t be fair or kind to either of us if we got married now. I understand the situation more clearly now. I love you with every fibre of my body, but it would destroy me if you grew to hate me. But I agree we need to talk.” I sighed, “Let’s go, Karen, you’re driving.”

I was incapable of driving that stupid scooter, she took the keys, and sobbed all the way back to the villa, the front of her tee-shirt growing wet with her tears. Somehow the alcoholic haze I’d been in before I barfed had disappeared, so at least I didn’t fall off the damn thing.

Luckily, our so-called friends weren’t around when we arrived. She held on to my hand desperately as we walked into the villa. She followed me into our room and then the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet and watched me intently as I undressed and stood under the shower letting the cool water stream over me. The next thing I knew she was standing beside me in her bikini, and we held each other. We both cried, my tears streaming down my face mixing with the shower water. She let it all out, sobbing. I hugged her to me and stripped her sopping top off her, and finally her bikini bottom. I wrapped a bath towel around her, and we lay down on our bed.

She had admitted she was racked with doubts, and I wondered if there was one underlying fear that was triggering the situation; I thought I knew what it was.

I sat up and took her hands in mine. We both sat cross-legged, and I tried to get to the bottom of her fears. “I know you’re scared, and I’m trying to understand what’s causing it. Is it the sex, or rather your lack of previous partners?”

She was quiet for a long while. The towel had slipped to her waist, and I counted her breaths, watching as her breasts rose and fell. Finally, she spoke, “I’m not sure, possibly. It’s a part of it I guess. I think I’m jealous that you’ve done so much more. You were my first real boyfriend, the couple of men I had known before you were fumbling children in comparison. I hadn’t realised how great sex could be until I met you. You make my body sing with your barest touch, and you were so patient with me.”

She gave me a crooked smile, “Even when I hurt you.” We both recalled the time I had to sleep with ice packs on my groin because of her over enthusiastic blow job. “You taught me so well, my love.” She leaned in and briefly kissed my lips.