Chapter 2

It was another muggy evening and Alan Ayre was restless, so he got into his car and drove around with the windows down and just enough volume on the CD player to hear it. Alan had no destination in mind, but he found himself near one of the town's late-night clubs. He also had no desire to mix with the revellers who were issuing out of the doors, usually in pairs or small groups, but one group of four young women seemed familiar; they were walking, arms linked, towards the station and the waiting mini-cabs. He pulled over and stopped and quickly crossed the road to catch up with them.

"Sarah!" The group stopped and turned to face him.

"Alan! What you doing here, Honey?" she said, sounding quite tipsy.

"I saw you come out of the club and I thought you all might like a lift, rather than get a cab."

"That's nice, Sweetie! You know all the girls, don't you."

"Yes, I've had the pleasure several times." They all giggled.

"—I wish!" the one he knew as Ally said, with a smirk. They all laughed again. Alan just smiled.

"Girl's night?" he asked.

"Mmm—'nother friend's birthday," Sarah replied, "She's still there, but we got to go home to our darlin' hubbies!"

"Okay, if you tell me where you all live, I'll drop you off."

"Thank you, Honey—we 'preciate it; don't we Girls!"

"Right—who's first?" Alan asked them. They all giggled girlishly again.

"You sure you can manage four in one night, Alan?" Natalie asked. This produced more raucous laughter from the four women.

"I bet it'd be fun finding out!" Liz sniggered. Sarah reached out and held onto Alan's arm.

"Okay—time to stop teasing the poor baby—I wanna go home!"

They waited until the road was clear and then they crossed—four of the party rather unsteadily—to where Alan's car was waiting. Sarah auto­matically went to the front passenger door, while the first two of the others to be dropped off sat by the doors in the back. Ally was first and Alan got out to open the door for her. After thanking him, she suddenly pulled him towards her and kissed him: he had time to ensure his mouth was closed first. The other women all waved from the car as she made her way to the front door and let herself in. Liz was next and did much the same thing; except that she only kissed his cheek. Natalie was last and as she pulled him towards her to kiss Alan's cheek, she whispered: "I bet you could have managed all of us—I'd still like to find out."

Alan was a good looking guy, and it wasn't the first time that he'd been blatantly propositioned by a married woman: but he wasn't the type to take up any of their offers, and he hoped she'd have forgotten doing it by the time she woke up in the morning.

As they drove back towards the flat where Sarah lived with her husband, Kevin, Sarah hitched up her short, tight skirt, kicked off her shoes, then rolled her black hold-up stockings down her legs and tossed them over her shoulder onto the back seat of the car. She then lifted her small feet up onto the dashboard.

"So did you have a good night?" Alan asked her.

"Mmm—brilliant! Lots of blokes tried to chat us up; but I'm a good girl! Only danced with my buds, too! Can't get Kevin to take me dancin'—says he feels daft! You dance, Honey?"

"Not really—I mostly feel the same way as Kevin. I think a lot of guys feel like that. Once upon a time everyone learned to do ballroom-type dances—it was the only way that you could hold someone in public. But I think girls liked it in the 1960's, when they could dance without partners."

When they got within a few streets of where Sarah lived, she said:

"Can I ask you something, Honey?"

"What's that?"

"—Well—can we stop for a bit and have a cuddle—nothing sexual, just a hug. You don't think I'm a slut or anything, do you?"

"No, I'll never think that—you're just a little bit drunk." She giggled.

"—Quite a lot drunk, actually."

"All right," Alan said, "but just a cuddle, nothing else!"

He stopped the car in the street, got out and climbed in the back and laid on his side. Sarah, rather indecorously, climbed between the front seats and joined him. After some settling, he held her in his arms against his chest.

"Not the most comfortable place."

"Sshh—it's lovely!" she said, holding a finger against his lips, "—Now don't talk any more." They stayed like that until Alan looked at his watch and said:

"I really do need to get you home—Kevin will be wondering where you are."

"I expect he's asleep by now—but I suppose I ought to go."

When they got to the flats where Sarah lived, she put on her shoes but not her stockings.

"I'll walk you up; it's late," Alan said. "Did you pick your stockings up?"

"No, that's all right; you can bring them next time you come round. Goodnight, Honey—see you soon. Thanks for the lift!"

Sarah put her key in lock, smiled and kissed Alan's cheek, then turned the key and stepped inside.

2.2

The text message from Sarah just said: Hi Honey! Can you ring me? Alan rang back straight away.

"—Thanks, Sweetie! I was wondering if you'd be able to give me a lift to my Dance Aerobics class this evening. I know it's short notice and I'll get a cab if you're busy."

"—No, that should be okay! What time?"

"—Brilliant! Say, seven o'clock. Thank you—you're a star!"

Alan Ayre went back to his computer. He was a writer and worked from home, so he had no trouble accommodating his friend's request. Sarah Bishop was not just his friend, she was the wife of his oldest friend, Kevin. Alan saw the Bishop's quite regularly, at least twice a month, but although he could have seen them more often than that, and sometimes did, he chose to ration his visits. Since Alan had returned from living in France, earlier in the year, he had re-established contact with Kevin and met his wife for the first time. In a fairly short time they had become close, and as two young and very attractive people, there was playful flirting and an acknowledged, although unstated, mutual attraction. However, Alan was clear in his mind that Sarah was his old friend's wife and therefore he could think, but he must never act. Sarah knew this, too, and although she flirted more with Alan than he with her, especially when she'd had a few drinks, she loved her husband and accepted the status quo.

When Alan rang the doorbell, Sarah greeted him wearing her exercise clothes: in this case a black bra top, multi-coloured, mid-calf, Capri pants and pink Nike exercise shoes. Over the top she wore a long, baggy T-shirt which covered her bare midriff. She also had a small holdall with some other items. Alan smiled: "Very nice!"

Sarah swam regularly, as well as attending dance fitness classes once a week and her toned body warranted Alan's comment. She returned his compliment with a smile and a cheerful: "Why, thank you!"

It wasn't that far to the venue: a suite of studios in a large, converted former car showroom. Kevin usually took her, then went for a beer or two and picked her up afterwards. As they pulled into the small car park at the rear of the building, Alan said:

"Do you want me to pick you up afterwards, or is Kevin coming?"

"—Well, if you wouldn't mind, Love! But you can stay if you like—I'll ask Jenny if it's okay, but she probably won't mind. As long as you can bear the thought of looking at a bunch of women dressed like me for two hours!" Alan grinned.

"—What's that saying: 'It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it." Sarah laughed.

"—Yeah—I bet!"

Alan locked the car and followed Sarah into the building. They went through another door into Studio B. Alan stood at the back and after Sarah had put down her bag and put her discarded T-shirt into it, she sought out Jenny, the instructor: a tall, slim woman with short, dark hair and an athletic build. The two women greeted each other and Alan saw them look towards him.

"Is that your husband, Sarah—and very nice, too!"

"No, he's my lover, actually!" Then she laughed. "—Only kidding! That's Alan, he's a family friend, he gave me a lift; is it okay if he waits for me?"

"Yes, of course, Babe! If I had a family friend like that, I wouldn't let him get away, either! Are you going to introduce me to him then?"

They walked across the floor to where Alan was waiting: they weren't the only ones checking him out, as other women were arriving and leaving their things at the back of the room and then starting their stretching and warming up routines.

"Alan Ayre, Jenny Marshall," Sarah said. She couldn't help frowning a little as they shook hands. "Jenny said it's okay for you to stay, Alan."

"We normally take a short break about half way, Alan. There's a drinks machine at the end of the corridor and the loos. Maybe we'll get a chance to talk some more, later," Jenny said. She walked back to the front of the room. Alan made a point of looking at Sarah, rather than Jenny's shapely figure. Sarah gave him a cheeky grin.

"—You want to be careful, Honey—you can build up quite an appetite by the end of these sessions, and there's more than a few women here who might like to invite you to dinner afterwards—and guess what would be on the menu!"

Alan looked deeply into Sarah's green eyes, which always made her squirm a little.

"Thanks for warning, but I'm on a strict diet. I'm happy eating alone—unless you invite me to dinner, of course!" Sarah bit her lower lip as she turned away.

"I, er, have to go—I'll see you later!"

Alan smiled to himself. He really was very fond of Sarah and he always took her playful teasing in the spirit that it was intended: but sometimes it was nice to give her a little taste of her own medicine, he thought.

There were far worse ways of spending a couple of hours in the evening, than watching a couple of dozen fit women in figure-hugging clothing, working up a good sweat! A few minutes before the end of the first hour, he went to get himself a drink, so he wouldn't be at the machine when the women took their break. He returned to his seat, a little apart from the other women's bags. As Jenny called time on the first half of the session, most of the women took towels out their own bags, including Sarah, who walked over to Alan. She wiped the perspiration from her head and neck, then took a large mouthful of water from a bottle. She thought about cheekily sitting on his knee, but instead sat on the floor next to his chair.

"Not too bored, I hope?"

"No, I brought a book with me. Watching you all is quite entertaining, though, although it reminds me of sitting in lectures at uni; after a while your mind wanders and you get a numb bum. You and the other ladies must be really fit, it's quite a punishing programme, isn't it; I certainly couldn't do it!"

"Well, a lot of these people have been coming here regularly as long as I have, so the stamina comes with practice. Don't you do any exercise, Alan; you look pretty fit."

"No, nothing like this—I try to eat properly and I take long walks most days, unless the weather's really bad; and I swim, but not every week. I suppose I'm just lucky not to retain fat."

"Well I swim most weeks, maybe we can go together some­times; I'll text you next time."

"Okay—but I won't promise! I think they're getting ready to start again."

Sarah put her towel and her water bottle back in her bag, then joined the others as they started to gather in front of Jenny. Alan watched for a few minutes, then he went back to his book; only glancing up occasionally at what was happening. Before the end of the two hours, Jenny said: "Right, let's start to warm down, Ladies!"

During this time Alan walked to the loo, and took the opportunity to dispose of his empty coffee cups. Sarah was sitting on his chair when he returned; once again towelling herself and drinking water. She said a quick goodbye to some people, including Jenny, who hadn't been able to talk to Alan again.

"Are you coming back to the flat for coffee, Honey: Kevin might be back by now," Sarah asked as they pulled out of the dance studio car park.

"Okay!"

"And is it all right if I get out of these sweaty clothes?"

"Sure! Don't they have showers at the studio?"

"They do, but I didn't want you to have to hang around, waiting."

Sarah's bag was down by her feet in Alan's car and she took out the towel and the T-shirt that she'd been wearing earlier. It was quite dark outside and there wasn't much other traffic in the side roads they took, so she worked her bra top over her head, exposing her boobs, then she quickly dried them before pulling on the T-shirt; she then slipped off her trainers. Out of the corner of his eye, Alan saw her lean back against the seat, raise her pelvis, then push her Capri pants down over her thighs, before sitting down again and taking them off completely. Alan expected Sarah to take knickers or something out of her bag; but knowing her, he wasn't surprised when she didn't.

"Do you do that when Kevin picks you up?" Alan asked her. She laughed.

"—Mmm, not a good idea—he'd probably lose concentration and crash the car if he saw my bare fanny!" Alan smiled.

"So you're not worried about me crashing if I see your fanny!" Sarah chuckled again.

"'Course not! You've seen it before—I'll take my shirt off, too, if you like!" And Alan knew that she would, too, if he gave her any encouragement.

"No, that's okay! We're nearly there, by the way, if you want to finish dressing." Sarah looked at him and smiled.

"Actually, Honey—I'm still feeling quite naughty! When we get out of the car, can you take my bag and walk behind me: I don't want to shock the neighbours!"

Alan got out of his car first, then walked around to open Sarah's door. As he did so, he positioned himself in such a way that his body screened her as she swung her legs around and got out. She then pulled her T-shirt down as far as it would go; although it started to rise up as she walked. At that time of night there might be people about, but there was nothing that she could do about her erect nipples that were pushing against the thin cotton fabric.

There was a lift, but she elected to walk up to the two floors above the ground level. Alan had always liked her bum, clothed or otherwise, but he thought there were few sexier sights than the way a women's buttocks moved as she climbed stairs—but to see a bare bum climb the stairs—

And the rules still applied, of course: you can look but you mustn't touch—not that he ever would, even if it wasn't Sarah! She wasn't an exhibitionist: she just liked the freedom of being naked, but there was a moment or two on the stairs when she really wanted to take her shirt off; but it just wasn't worth the risk.

At her front door Alan handed Sarah her bag, from which she took her keys and opened the door. The flat was in darkness.

"Kevin's not back, then!" Sarah turned on lights as she went.

"I'm going to have a quick shower," she said, pulling the T-shirt over her head. "Help yourself to a coffee, or there's beer in the fridge."

As he filled the kettle and turned it on, he heard the sound of the shower in the background.

2.3

Alan Ayre picked up his phone:

"—Hi, Kev! How are you!"

"—In the shit, Mate—I need a big favour! I've got to go to Birmingham on a training course and I won't be home until Friday night. But the thing is, Sarah's work's do is on Wednesday night and I forgot all about it—she said that she'd rather not go if I can't, but I know that she's been really looking forward to it. So—"

"—Of course, if it's okay with her."

"—Magic! You're a top man, Al! I owe you one, Mate—I'll get Sarah to ring you with the details."

At seven-thirty on Monday evening, Alan arrived at Kevin and Sarah Bishop's flat with his bag: he was staying there until Friday morning. Now some people might find it odd that Kevin had invited a very good-looking man to stay in the flat with his very attractive wife while he was away, but the two men had once been best mates and were still close, so there was a strong bond of trust between them. And although he knew that Sarah loved him and had never strayed since he'd met her, he also knew that he would be happier if Alan was there, rather than leaving her alone to brood.

"Hello, Alan! Come in, dinner won't be long," Sarah said, "Do you want a beer?"

"No thanks, maybe later."

Alan really liked Sarah, but he knew from prior experience that if she drank too much she could get a little flirty with him sometimes; which was okay when Kevin was there, but not when he wasn't.

When Sarah had arrived home from work that day, she had done what she usually did: run herself a nice, deep bath, where she lay for some time. Getting out of bath, she moisturised her skin, then put on clean underwear and a loose T-shirt. When Alan had been there before to eat with her and Kevin, she had also worn a bra and a skirt, but now she felt comfortable enough to just put on grey sweat shorts.

They had a nice meal and then Sarah made coffee and they sat on the sofa drinking it while they chatted.

"Ooh, before I forget," Sarah said, getting up from the sofa. She came back and sat down and handed Alan something. "A front-door key. I usually leave for work about eight in the morning, and if I don't have to stop off anywhere, I'm home just before five. We've shared a bed once before, but there'll be more room with just two: don't worry, it was Kevin's idea!"

At about eleven o'clock, Sarah yawned and said to Alan:

"Sorry, Honey, but I need my sleep! You come to bed when you're ready; there's a spare tooth brush in the bathroom if you haven't brought your own." She leaned across and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight! See you in the morning."

It was too early for Alan, so he took a book out of his bag and started to read. At about one in the morning he put the book down, turned the light off on his way out the sitting room and walked to the bathroom. Sarah had left her bedroom door open and there was enough natural light for him not to need more, so, standing by the bed, he slipped off his shoes and socks, pulled his shirt over his head, and took off his jeans. Sarah was asleep, lying on her front, her head turned towards him. Alan got into bed, trying not to move too much, and lay with his back to her. It didn't take him long to fall asleep.

The next thing that he was aware of, was the persistent tone of an alarm clock. He felt the movement in the bed beside him.

"—Sorry, Alan—go back to sleep!" Sarah said, quietly. In his half-awake state he closed his eyes, but he didn't sleep; he lay as still as he could, facing the wall. The bedroom and bathroom shared a dividing wall, so he could hear the sounds of the toilet flushing and then the shower running. He stayed facing the wall so that he couldn't see anything, but he was interested in the sounds of cupboards and drawers opening and closing and Sarah's soft humming as she dressed for work.

"I'll see you later!" she said, as she walked out of the bedroom, and then the sound of the front door being closed.

When Alan decided to get up later, he got out of bed, yawned, stretched, and scratched. His first destination was the bathroom, where he had his first pee of the day and then brushed his teeth. As he walked into the bedroom he looked around. There was a chair, over the back of which was draped Sarah's T-shirt and shorts, and on the floor next to the chair, the little heap of her discarded knickers: he looked, but he was long past the pervy stage of his adolescence; back then, he would probably have picked them up and 'examined' them thoroughly, using all of his senses. Instead he smiled a knowing smile, got dressed in clean clothes, and then went to the kitchen to get a wake-up coffee and something to eat.

Alan was a self-employed freelancer, so his time wasn't routinely organ­ised around working hours. After breakfast he took the key that Sarah had given him and put it on his own keyring, then he drove home to see if there was any new mail, then into town for a couple of hours. He was walking around when he had a thought. He took out his mobile phone and rang Sarah's number.

"—Hello! I'm in town and I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch."

"—Well, I usually go with a couple of the girls."

"—No problem, bring them along; just tell me where and when."

"—Okay! You know where I work; we'll meet you outside about one. Is that all right?"

"—Brilliant! See you soon!"

Sarah was waiting with three of her workmates when she saw Alan walking towards them. He smiled.

"Oh My God! Is that him—he's utterly gorgeous!" one of the young women, Alison, exclaimed. Sarah laughed.

"Yes, that's him! Now close your mouth, Ally, and pretend you're a sensible, engaged, woman!

"Hi, Alan! This is Liz, Natalie and Alison—she prefers 'Ally', though."

"Hello, Ladies!" Alan said, shaking each of their hands, "Right, where are we off to?"

"Well, there's the Crown and Anchor: we can get a nice cup of coffee and they do great French bread sandwiches," Sarah said.

"Sounds good! After you, Ladies!"

When they got to the pub, they ordered and Alan insisted on paying for everything. As he stood at the bar, the others were talking, conspira­torially, with Sarah answering their questions:

"—He's a good mate of my Kevin's. Yes, he's unattached, but he seems happy that way! No, don't even go there, Alison Matthews! Mmm—he's the one taking me on Wednesday evening."

"So what do you do for a living, Alan?" Liz asked him when he sat down again, after ordering the food.

"I write. I've been quite lucky and I've got quite a lot of little things on the go: regular articles for magazines and news­papers, mostly in this country, but I've lived and worked in France. My first novel is also doing the rounds of publishers and I'm hoping that someone will pick it up."

The ladies were all fascinated by what he had to say: especially Sarah, who didn't really know that much about his life, now. Hers and Kevin's lives were pretty much average: the nine-to-five job, with four or five weeks paid holiday a year, kind. She thought she now understood a little better why Alan was so knowledgeable and entertaining: that was his job! But all too soon it was time for Sarah and her friends to go back to their jobs, so they walked back together. Alan of course said that it was nice to meet them all, and he hoped that they'd all be there on Wednesday evening. He didn't know if the others were aware that he was staying at Sarah's, so he just smiled at her and said goodbye.