Chapter 6

Since they had been married Kevin and Sarah Bishop had been to several parties but they had never given one, so they decided that now was the time. Their apartment wasn't huge but it was a fair size, so it was determined that, as a first attempt, about thirty people could be accommodated comfortably, so they sat down to try to decide who to invite. Number one on the list was Alan Ayre, a close, personal friend of both of them, after that it was Sarah's friends from work, Kevin's colleagues, and his Sunday League football­ club team-mates.

This presented the first problem: there were maybe fourteen or fifteen of this group alone; and having met them all, there were some that Sarah had little time for. She had to put up with their sexual innuendos and crude jokes in the pub, but she didn't want them in her home. And of course Kevin argued that how could he invite some of them and not others. Sarah usually gave in to her husband on most things, but on this occasion she was adamant. So a kind of compromise was reached: none of the football crowd this time, and he could have more people from his workplace.

They didn't know their neighbours very well, but they thought that they should at least ask some of them, if only to keep them sweet. The final list was drawn up with thirty-two names, most of whom were couples, with a few singletons like Alan. It was thought that couples would, in principle, be better behaved and there would be less chance of them 'bringing a friend'.

The people on the guest list were asked personally, and in that way they would know right away who could and couldn't make it and whether any back-ups were needed to make up the numbers. Fortunately, perhaps, most people had confirmed within a day or two of asking. Alan also agreed to help out with the preparations and so they took two cars to the local supermarket one evening, where they spent quite a lot of money on the things they thought they'd need. It was planned for a Saturday evening during the football close-season, so Kevin wouldn't normally have much contact with his Sunday League mates and it was assumed that most people wouldn't be at work that day.

When the day of the party arrived, Kevin and Alan rearranged furniture and put some items in temporary storage in the Bishop's spare bedroom, while Sarah got on with the party food. As it was an informal affair, Alan didn't need to go home to change, so when everything was done that they thought could be, the three of them sat down to await the arrival of the other guests.

To begin with Sarah and Kevin greeted the arrivals together, as nearly all the guests were known to both of them, if only fleetingly, but as more arrived they did it singly while the other entertained their guests. Alan already knew some of Sarah's friends and colleagues, but he was intro­duced to Kevin's as 'a good mate from way back.' Five of them, in particular, had shared a car ride: there were two couples and a young woman who Alan thought was in her early-twenties.

"This is Mel, Al—she only joined the company a month ago, so she's still a bit shy."

Now Alan was a very good-looking guy, maybe even more so than Kevin, so initially he thought that Kevin might be trying to set him up; but Alan, being a writer, was used to watching people and reading their body language, and it soon became clear to him that Mel was much more interested in Kevin. Alan and Mel made small talk, but whenever Kevin moved away, Mel's eyes automatically followed him, until she realised and then she would quickly look elsewhere.

Eventually everyone had arrived and there was constant movement between the Bishop's living room, the kitchen where the refreshments were set out, and the bathroom, of course. There was background music at a moderate level and people either stayed in their familiar groups, eating, drinking and chatting, some guests danced, and the braver ones mingled.

Initially Kevin and Sarah were the perfect hosts, flitting about and socialising with as many people as possible, but as the evening wore on, Kevin was drinking steadily and tended to stay with those people he worked with, so Alan, who like Sarah had decided to drink only in moderation, gradually assumed Kevin's role. Not only was he good looking, he was educated and a good conversationalist, who could put people at ease and encourage them to talk about themselves. While he was enter­tain­ing others he was also watching his two friends and whenever Sarah caught his eye she would smile, or sometimes she had a certain look on her face and he would sidle across and join her, which always seemed to lift her spirits.

But it was Kevin who held his interest more. Every time he saw Kevin, Mel was standing near him: she was usually smiling or laughing, and more often than not, touching him in some way. And sometimes Kevin would leave the room and so would Mel, then one of them would return alone, followed shortly afterwards by the other. Alan didn't need any diagrams to know what was going on: he and Kevin had spent many hours together in their youths, pursuing women for sexual purposes, and he knew that Kevin and he had often literally charmed them out of their clothes. Alan had always assumed that Kevin and Sarah were happy together; but whether it was the alcohol, or his innate nature, Kevin appeared to have set his sights on Mel, and she was more than ready to be caught—if she hadn't been already, that is. He wondered whether he should have a quiet word in his friend's ear, but then he looked at Sarah and she had that look again, so he decided that she had priority.

As he stood next to her in a group of her friends, she slipped her arm around his waist. He knew her friends quite well and Sarah didn't seem overly concerned about appearing over-familiar with him, so he draped his hand loosely over her shoulder. They all continued to chat for a while, before Alan made an excuse and walked away. As he walked towards the kitchen, he was sure that he saw Mel slip into the spare bedroom and close the door, and as he walked past he heard muffled giggles. There was no way that he was going to stand outside the door and listen, so he slowly shook his head and walked on.

Well, by gone midnight a good few people had already departed, so Alan stood with Sarah, quietly talking, seeing people out as they left, and waiting for the stragglers to leave. It was nearly one before Mel and her party left, they were the last of Kevin's colleagues to go, so he said he'd go down to the car with them. It was twenty or so minutes before he returned and bleary-eyed he said: "I'm off to bed, Babe—coming?"

"I can't," Sarah declared, "There's still people here—you go if you want to."

Sarah followed him and collected the few coats that people had left on the bed, which she carried into the living room.

"You look beat," Alan said, "If you want to turn in, too, you can—I'll see the last people out."

"No, I'm okay, Honey! I don't suppose it'll be much longer. It went okay, didn't it."

"Mmm—I don't think you'll hear any complaints—even your neighbours seemed to enjoy themselves."

"And what about you, Alan—did you enjoy yourself?"

"Of course! I'm still not a big fan of parties, but it was all right—and we didn't even get pissed, did we!" Sarah chuckled.

"No, but I think my husband probably drank our share! I hope he behaved himself: you know what he's like."

"Well, he's still walking, so he can't be that bad."

The last guests finally left and Sarah slipped the bolt on the front door. Alan was staying the night, on the sofa, so although tired, Sarah got two large glasses of wine from the kitchen, then kicked off her shoes and sat next to Alan in the living room. "Ooh, that's good!" she exclaimed, as she wiggled her toes.

When they'd drunk their wine, Alan said:

"If you wouldn't mind getting me a blanket, Sarah—then I really do think that you need to turn in."

"Okay, give me a few minutes."

Alan sat on the sofa and waited. When Sarah returned she was carrying a large duvet and two pillows; she was also dressed in just a T-shirt. He looked at her quizzically, as she threw the duvet on the floor and folded it in half, lengthways.

"Change of plan, Babe! I decided that I've worked hard tonight and I deserve a reward—and you're it! Kevin's dead to the world, so tonight you're all mine. So would you please get those clothes off and lie down!"

Sarah pulled her shirt over her head and lay down beside him, then pulled half the duvet over them and snuggled up close.

"No, not quite right! Roll over on your side and face me, please!" Alan did as she asked.

"Yes, much better! You know, the first time that I saw you, Alan, I couldn't believe how beautiful your eyes were, and looking at them still gives me goosebumps. Let's just assume that this is a one-off deal and may never happen again—I know you're a good friend to Kevin, but I'd very much like you to kiss me now; and not as a friend, lips, tongues, everything!"

"I don't know, Sarah—" Alan began to protest. She put her finger on his lips.

"Kissing is no worse than what we're doing now, Honey, and I don't class this as infidelity. Yes, maybe it's a bit more than a friendly kiss, but you aren't going to fuck me, are you."

"No, definitely not!'

"All right then—shall I start?"

Perhaps it was because of what he'd seen and heard earlier, but when Sarah put her hand behind Alan's head and pulled him onto her lips he didn't stop her. And as their lips touched, the tip of her tongue parted his. The kiss went on, and on, and on, until it was Sarah who broke away, gasping.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, fucking fuck! Why haven't we ever done that before! I thought Kevin was a good kisser, but you're— you're—something else!" Alan smiled.

"Now that you've got that out of your system can we go to sleep now?" Sarah just chuckled.

"Oh, no! I told you—you're all mine for the night! Now you've really got me wondering, Honey: if you can kiss like that, what else can you do?"

As she lay facing him, centimetres apart, Sarah's small hand was slowly stroking Alan's back and hip.

"I've told you before, Sarah: you're a married woman and I'm not going to have sex with my friend's wife!"

"But you're the writer, Love: can't you just pretend I'm not your friend's wife, and that you're Alan Ayre and I'm Sarah Turnbull, and we've just met at a party and now we're in bed together and we're going to get to know each much, much better."

"Of course I could pretend: I could easily give in and make love to you, and I wouldn't have to pretend that part! But then we'd wake up in the morning and we'd have to live with what we'd done. And do you know how I'd try and cope with that knowledge?" Sarah was still looking into his blue eyes: "No."

"Then I'll tell you: I'd stay away from you and Kevin. I might even give up my flat and put some physical distance between us, I can work anywhere. That's how strongly I feel about this, Sarah. Now, say the word and I'll pretend you're not married to my friend and we'll have one night of intense passion; but if we do, that will be it; we won't be able to undo it and we'll both have to accept the consequences. So, it's your choice, Sarah." She kissed his lips, softly.

"—Why did you have to be so bloody perfect, Baby? Let's get some sleep now—we've got a lot of clearing up to do later."

Alan rolled over onto his back and Sarah snuggled up tight against him.

It seemed like only a few minutes before they were awake again. Sarah stroked Alan's face.

"Thank you for last night, Honey. It's going to be hard to keep my hot little hands off you from now on, but I'm going to have to try, aren't I? I suppose I ought to go and have a shower—I'd invite you to join me, but that might not be a good idea, but I'll let you know when I'm done, though!"

After one, last, lingering, albeit chaste, kiss, Sarah stood up and stretched, then she picked up Alan's boxers and threw them at him. As he pulled them on, she picked up the duvet, then carried it and the rest of the bedding away with her.

While Alan was waiting for his turn in the shower, he began to walk around the living room, collecting glasses and the remains of last night's party. He carried as much as he could to the kitchen, then went back for a second load and then a third. Sarah had left the bedroom door open and he could see Kevin sprawled on the bed, fast asleep.

6.2

It was a Tuesday.

"—I'm at the hospital, do you think you can come and get me, Alan!" Sarah Bishop said, over the telephone.

"—Of course—but whatever have you done!" her friend, Alan Ayre replied.

"—Oh, it's nothing very serious: a stupid accident at work, but I've managed to break a few bones. Someone from the office brought me here, but I told them not to wait. I could have rang Kevin, but he's gone up north on a job today and I knew you probably wouldn't mind."

"—Okay! I'll get there as soon as I can. Are you mobile?"

"—Mmm—I'll tell you all about it when you get here. Thanks, Honey!"

After driving to the hospital and finding a parking space, Alan found Sarah sitting in the A&E Department waiting area. The only obvious signs of injury was the heavy bandaging on some of the fingers on both hands. She smiled when she saw him, stood up, then kissed him lightly on the mouth. They walked back to Alan's car and he opened the door for her and fastened the seatbelt. As they drove slowly out of the hospital grounds, Sarah began to give her account of what had happened to her.

"Well, we were moving some furniture: big cabinets, which should have been moved weeks ago. They weren't really heavy, just cumber­some—anyway, for some reason one of them toppled forward and I instinctively tried to stop it and somehow I got my fingers in the way." Sarah held up both hands and Alan could now clearly see that the middle three fingers on each hand were bound tightly together. "They're not all fractured, but they said it's the easiest way to keep them immobilised. But it's really awkward and there's not much that I can do with them—that's why I'm going to need a really good friend, Honey!"

No one could ever accuse Alan Ayre of being slow on the uptake! "Ah, I see!" he said. Sarah laughed—she, at least, could see the funny side, despite her discomfort.

"Kevin will be home sometime this evening, of course, but during the day I'm literally going to need a helping hand, or should I say 'hands'. You know me pretty well by now, Love, but I really need you to be much more up close and personal."

During the relatively brief time that they'd known each other, Alan and Sarah had gotten very close: emotionally and physi­cally; in some respects a lot more than might be regarded as 'normal' for a single man and a married woman. But Alan Ayre and Kevin Bishop had known each other a long time and Kevin knew that he trusted Alan implicitly—especially where his wife was concerned. Sarah also knew that as soon as her husband was aware of the help that she was going to need for a few weeks at least, he would know that only Sarah's parents or Alan could provide it; and he would be more than happy for his friend to step into the role.

Once back at the Bishop's flat, the implications of Sarah's incapacity soon became apparent. She wanted to change out of her work clothes, but apart from kicking off her shoes, she was pretty much stymied: her bound fingers were no longer service­able tools for undoing the buttons on her blouse, or manipulat­ing the hook and eye and zip that fastened her skirt. Alan was of course completely understanding and sympathetic, and he treated these actions as impassively as if he was taking off his socks. By using only her thumbs, Sarah managed to push her tights down over her hips and thighs and then off, but she needed Alan's help to get the baggy T-shirt over her head and then to pull up the sweat pants shorts that she liked to wear when relaxing at home. Then, feeling rather useless, Sarah followed him into the kitchen while he made them both a cup of coffee. She of course realised that she couldn't even pick up her mug.

"I've got some of those plastic, bendy drinking straws in the cupboard, Honey: I keep them for when my family and friends brings their kids here. It's not ideal, but it will have to do. And I've been thinking: I can survive the embarrassment of having my bum wiped, but not Kevin's cooking! I know you get by on your own okay, but he's useless, and we can't live on takeaways and fast-food until my fingers are better, so do you think you can help me out with that, too, while you're here; you're welcome to eat with us, of course, and I'll be here to tell you what to do."

"Sure! No problem—and I'm open to improving my culinary skills. Is there anything else you can think of, apart from the obvious."

"Well—you've seen me naked, but I usually have a bath or shower morning and evening, so we've got to work something out about that. It's going to be another of those 'close up and personal' things I was talking about—you know I'm cool with it, just as long as you are, and to be perfectly honest, I'd probably rather you did it than Kevin did. He can be a bit heavy-handed sometimes, so I'd rather wait until you got here in the morning, and I usually have a nice soak in the bath before he gets home and wants his dinner. And there is one more thing: my periods are pretty regular and I'm due to start again in a couple of days —Friday, in fact. I know a lot of guys are squeamish and find the whole thing pretty yucky." Alan smiled.

"Again—no big deal! I know the theory, but I'm obviously short on practical experience, so as long as you can handle it—sorry, bad choice of words—I'm sure that I can."

Just about then Sarah's home phone rang. Alan immediately picked it up and held it to her ear.

"—Yes, I'm fine, thanks! Mmm—Alan's here, he picked me up. Yes, the fingers are broken, so I'm going to be off work for a while. No, practically helpless! Okay, Babe, I'll see you all this afternoon—yes, he'll still be here!" Sarah indicated that the call was over, then she laughed.

"—That was Liz, from work: her and Ally and Natalie are coming round later for a gossip—although I'm not sure if they're coming here to see me, or you!"

Alan had he'd met Sarah's three friends on several previous occasions, and although they were now all married, they flirted with him outrageously. Alan liked them and apart from a little teasing on his part, he took it as harmless fun. He believed that, as with Sarah, married women could be friends, but otherwise they were off limits.

"But for now, it's that time, Honey—I really do need to pee!"

He smiled again, helped her up from the sofa in the living room, where they'd taken their drinks and then followed her into the bath­room."

Sarah's doorbell rang about ten-to-five and Alan answered it. "Hi! Nice to see you all again! Sarah's in the living room—can I get you all coffees?"

They all greeted Sarah with hugs, then they found seats. Alan was in the kitchen making them all drinks.

"You really are a lucky cow, Sarah Bishop!" Natalie said, "You have a little accident, make a phone call, and now you've got Mr Sexy Blue Eyes as your personal slave. And when you say he does everything for you—do you mean, literally, everything?" Sarah grinned. "—Mmm—pretty much!"

Alan came back carry a tray with four mugs and a plate of biscuits.

"Aren't you having one?" Sarah asked him.

"Yes, I've left mine in he kitchen—I thought I could take my laptop and do some work while you all talk; you can call out if you need me."

"No! Come and join us!" Ally exclaimed. "Yes, please do!" Sarah added. Alan shrugged and went to collect his drink. Of course, there was only one topic of conversation:

"Be honest, Alan, it's really great that you're helping our girl, but doesn't the bathroom stuff gross you out?" Natalie contin­ued.

He looked her directly in the eyes and smiled. It had the usual effect, as it did with most women on the receiving end: Natalie squirmed a little in her seat, and feelings that were usually suppressed began to rise to the surface again, before she managed to check them.

"All right, I'll throw that question back at you. I don't know if you have children or much experience with them, but isn't changing a baby pretty gross, and even when they're out of nappies you have to take them to the toilet and clean up after them; it's not a great job, but you just get on and do it. And suppose it was your husband, Mike—would you take him to the toilet? And whether it's an adult or a child, it's not sexual, it's just something that you needs to be done."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Natalie replied.

Alan then felt someone tugging on his shirt and Ally, who was sitting next to him, said, in an affected little girl voice: "Please, Uncle Alan, Ally needs to wee!" They all laughed, but then Alan sighed, in an equally exagger­ated way, before standing up, taking Ally by the hand and pulling her to her feet: "Come on, then!"

She stood there for a moment, eyes wide open, not knowing what to do, then as Alan started to walk towards the door, she found herself meekly being led. As Ally got to the door, she quickly looked back at her friends. As they exited the room, Liz said quietly: "Would he really?" Sarah smiled, then said: "Maybe—but I don't think so!"

In the layout of Sarah's flat, the bathroom was theoretically visible from the living room, although the furniture was arranged in such a way that it wasn't possible to see it from where they were all sitting. When they reached the bathroom, Alan had opened the door then gently but firmly pushed Ally inside, but then he had quietly closed the door behind her and he had waited outside. When she had reappeared, a few minutes later, he held his finger to his mouth, took her hand again and delivered her back to her seat. Everyone looked at Ally, who seemed flustered, but before he allowed her to sit down, Alan turned her around by her hips and pulled her skirt down at the back, to straighten it. Sarah, Liz and Natalie thought that this little display was hilarious; which served to cause their friend's blood to rise to her cheeks!

"Did you enjoy that, Love?" Natalie said to her. Ally, still flushed, grinned coyly, then said: "Yes, thank you!"

They all sat chatting casually, until at nearly six o'clock, Sarah said: "It's been lovely to see you, but I really need to get Kevin's meal started." The four women hugged again before the guests left.

"Bless! I love 'em all to bits, but we can all chat for England once we get started! We can order in tonight, or Kevin can go to the chippy—he won't mind! I really wanted a bath this evening, but I'll settle for a quick shower and a change of knickers! You ready to do the honours, Babe?"

Sarah had a roll of plastic sandwich bags and after helping her out of her T-shirt, Alan placed a bag over each of her hands and sealed them at her wrists with some ribbon that Sarah had for tying presents. He then unfastened her bra and lifted it off. Although he had seen her naked before, he had never undressed her and so it was a novel, but not entirely unpleasant experience for both of them. Whether it was really necessary or not, Sarah shook her shoulders slightly while Alan was still in front of her, causing her 32D-size boobs to jiggle. She grinned when she saw the look on his face: "—You want to try wearing a bra all day!"

"Can you manage the rest?" Alan asked, "I'll be in the bathroom when you're ready."

As she had done with her tights earlier, Sarah used her thumbs to push down her shorts and bikini briefs in one go and with several wiggles of her hips, both slid to the floor. Bending, she hooked her warm knickers with a little finger and put them on a chair, then repeated the action with the shorts, placing them on the back of the chair for later.

They had briefly debated whether or not Alan should strip off as well and get into the shower with her, but he had said that it would probably be easier if he just held the removable shower head while he washed her while standing outside the bath, he did remove his shirt, though.

And while Sarah enjoyed the feeling of the water being directed over her body and the soapy lather being worked into her head while Alan washed her hair and then her body, it was very hard not to try and use her own hands; so once her hair was done, she rested her hands on her head while she just enjoyed his gentle touch. First she knelt on the rubber bath mat, but then she had to stand while he soaped and rinsed her lower body and legs. There was anticipation and a little frisson of excitement as he finally reached that most intimate part of her body. Alan was no stranger to that area of the female anatomy, but it was usually in a sexual context when his intentions were solely to give pleasure to the recipients of his attention; however, this was different, and erotic pleasure was the last thing on his mind. Sarah seemed to sense his hesitation:

"It's all right, Honey—this time it's allowed! You know I love and trust you, and you understand what women like, so go ahead."

"Okay! Do you usually use anything, or just your hand?"

"Oh, a soapy hand will do just fine!"

Sarah moved her hands onto Alan's shoulders for support, and despite knowing what was coming, she still softly bit her lower lip as for the first time Alan's fingers slid between the folds of her vulva, gently working the soap into her. He tried not to linger or to press too hard on anywhere, especially her clitoral hood, but this very gentleness seemed to have the opposite effect to that intended and she closed her eyes and bit on her lip a little harder; and Alan sensed that, as he washed her, she was pushing against him to increase the pressure. Her legs even shook as his fingers probed a little deeper and passed over her vaginal opening and anus. And then, after one last rinse, Sarah sighed loudly when Alan said: "Right, I think you're done!" Sarah didn't speak, but she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

He steadied her as she stepped out of the bath onto the polished wood floor and wrapped the big, fluffy towel around her, patting her dry. Once dry, they walked back into the bedroom, where Alan put his shirt back on, and after applying moisturiser to Sarah's soft skin, he helped her dress.

They were sitting in the kitchen when the phone rang again: Alan held it to Sarah's ear and he continued to hold it for her as it was obvious that she was talking to Kevin. Sarah hadn't previously had a chance to tell her husband about her accident, so she said to Alan: "Put it on speaker phone, Love!" having done that, he replaced the handset and they had a three-way conversation.

The gist of the conversation was that he would be back quite late. Sarah said that as Alan was here, why didn't he book into somewhere and then he could drive back, fresh, the next day. Kevin agreed that as Alan was there, he would prefer to do that.

Sarah then told her husband about her friends visit and even about how Alan had to take her to the toilet: she also told him about the shower—although not in much detail; which Kevin said sounded kind of horny! However, he just thanked his old friend and said that it was a good job that he was there to look after her! They talked for quite a while, and when Kevin finally hung up, Sarah said:

"How about we improvise dinner tonight: you said that you wanted to learn more about cooking and 'making do' is a part of that."

Like a lot of people who were enthusiastic cooks and who also worked full-time, Sarah always had various things like tinned and dry food, such as rice, pasta, etc., as well as cold meats and cheeses in her cupboards and refrigerator, and they had a lot of fun decid­ing how to use them. It was for Sarah yet another example of the differ­ence between Kevin and Alan: Kevin liked good food, but he wasn't really interested in it before it got to the plate; Alan, on the other hand, was curious about most things and Sarah loved how he got her involved and talking about something she was almost passionate about. And in the end they really did make a little go a long way and with a very enjoyable outcome.

Eating was a problem of course: when you're young and in love it's quite romantic and even sexy to feed each other; and although Sarah still enjoyed being fed by her friend, it's not quite the same when it's done out of necessity, rather than choice.

For the rest of that evening Alan's bathroom services were called upon several more times before they went to bed, although he was always happy and willing to help. Sarah also got a fit of the giggles when Alan had to brush her teeth for her, but she recovered and they were both happy as they climbed into bed that night. This was marred, slightly, by her inability to snuggle up to Alan, as she had to be careful how she placed her hands, eventually, however, she fell asleep.