Chapter 7

THEY lay there cuddling for a while. Gill had pulled the duvet over them although neither was really cold.

“You hungry?” he ventured to suggest.

“You bet!” she said, sitting up, “I need to freshen up first, though.”

“There’s a bath robe for you hanging up in the bathroom, where there’s a toilet and bidet, and in the shoe rack on the left there are several pairs of backless slippers, I wasn’t sure of your shoe size. I’ll go sort out the meal.”

“Darling, you’re so thoughtful.”

Jake got up and fetched his bathrobe from ‘his’ bathroom, while Gill entered the doorway Jake indicated was for ‘her’. The dressing room was large and she thought she could have got her entire wardrobe, and the kids’ in there too, and still have had space to expand her wardrobe by a factor of ten. Then the bathroom was something else, huge, with a large standalone bath. Jake had already thoughtfully lined the shelves with new aromatic candles, ready to light, if she wished. She picked up a couple of candles and breathed in their heavy essences. For now she just washed herself down using the warm water of the bidet and put on the brand new robe, in soft, fluffy cotton, before joining Jake in the kitchen.

As soon as she entered the vast kitchen she could smell the spicy goulash. Jake had pulled the large pot out of the oven and had it resting on the marble centre island. He directed her to sit at a breakfast table for two at one end of the console. The table was laid with a setting for two, with the same bright shiny cutlery and cut crystal glasses he used for their first meal, for water, sparkling wine and table wine. Having sat her down at her place and placing a napkin across her lap, he handed her a glass of Champagne to be getting on with. He sat opposite her, smiling, taking her free hand and kissing it.

“Happy?” she asked as his smiling lips sent a tingle through her hand to her heart.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wash this smile off my face.”

“Me too, thank you Jake, you have been a godsend. From being at such a low ebb a few months ago, I now feel I could fly.”

“Well, to me you are an angel, so fly wherever, so long as you come back to me. You ready for something to eat?”

“Mmm, I’m starving, and it smells delicious.”

He rose and took some warm plates out of the oven, ladled some of the peppery stew onto the plates, stirred in a spoonful of sour cream and sprinkled some freshly chopped parsley on the top. With a tea towel he carried their steaming plates to the table. He poured a couple of glasses of dark red wine from an already-opened bottle. Gill blew on her first spoonful and tasted the goulash.

“Honey, this is delicious,” she said, “I’m not just saying that, I really mean it, this is so tasty.”

“Well, I couldn’t have this kitchen installed and not use it properly. In fact it’s nice to be able to cook for someone else for a change.”

Gill insisted on helping with clean up after the meal and they danced around each other, touching and kissing at will.

They went back to the bedroom and cuddled under the covers for a while, kissing and stroking each other until once again their passions took them over, this time in simple missionary position lovemaking, taken slowly and gently as they worked their way to exhausted mutual satisfaction.

They lay sleeping in the bed as the sun came up and illuminated the bedroom. Jake stirred first and Gill, who had her head resting on his chest and one of her legs across his thighs, was already awake but hadn’t wanted to disturb him. She’d happily lain there, feeling the heat coming off him; loving his smell and watching his chest rise and fall. The tenting of the light sheet they pulled across to cover them, instead of the heavy duvet last night, hadn’t escaped her attention, either.

She stretched as he moved. “Morning, hon, did you sleep well?”

“Like a log, how about you?”

“Very well sweetheart, thank you. Now, before you cook me my breakfast, should we do something about this particular log?”

“Mmm, I must go to the loo first.”

“Me too!”

It was in the post-coital glow, assisted by the low spring morning sun through the drawn curtains that they explored each other’s body, systematically stroking, kissing, and commenting, pointing out what bodily concerns each had. One of the first observations Gill made was that while Jake’s limp left nipple immediately stiffened under attack from her tongue and teeth, while his right one was half erect all the time.

“That one was created by my surgeon, Sir Michael Rahn, who is considered an artist with skin, to replace one they couldn’t save.”

“You poor baby.”

“It doesn’t have any feeling in it, so I really only have one nipple.”

Gill lifted her head off his chest and sat up on her haunches, cradled her own small but ripe, definitely shapely breasts in the cups of her hands, moving the thumb and forefinger of each hand to the nipples and teasing them until they were nice and stiff.

A smile played on her lips. Jake licked his.

“See these babies, Jake?” she breathed.

“Ye-yes.”

“These sweet little tits are not mine any longer, I’m giving them to you, they’re yours, I’m just minding them for you when they’re not in use.”

“Mine, eh?” Jake grinned, “They’re beautiful.”

“They’re yours. Your beautiful little tits. You can get them out to play with whenever you want. You can touch them, kiss them, suck them, and bite them. No need to ask permission, they are all yours. When I say any time, I mean, you know, within the bounds of decency, of course; I would want to be able to show my face in the Co-Op again!”

They laughed.

“So, Jake a little maths test: How many nice little titties with working nipples do you have?”

“Er, three?”

“Wrong!”

“Just the two, then?”

“Right, those two on your chest, the working one and the wonky one, they’re mine. I’m putting in a claim. I mean it’s only fair, you’ve just been handed two quite nice little titties.”

“I agree, it is only fair, and I realise that I can give these ones up because I now have the two nicest titties I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re damn right. So, who’s the artist here, Sir Michael whatever-his-name the surgeon or Mother Nature the miracle worker?”

“Mmm, hard to tell without a thorough examination, and you can’t get that on the National Heath.”

“Well, Jake, I’m just going to check out my one and a bit working tits, what about you?” She raised and lowered her eyebrows a couple of times.

“Sounds a plan, honey, so come here!”

They continued to explore, touch and comment. Jake kissed her stretch marks, even though he couldn’t really see what her fuss was all about, regarding them as defects was wildly exaggerated at best, he thought.

Gill meanwhile explored every inch of Jake’s skin. His chest was hairless, Jake saying that hair only grew around one nipple, which he shaved from time to time to balance with the artificial one. When Jake rolled over at her request, so she could kiss his back, Gill had to fight back the tears, his skin on his upper back was puckered and bubbly and an angry red colour in the morning light. Jake heard her brief sob.

“My clothing melted onto the skin, which killed off the outer skin layers. As the skin died and flaked off or removed, it left what you can see and feel behind. Sir Michael did some skin graft work here, mostly on the lower back but I had had enough by then. Sir Michael checks me over every six months, just in case anything flares up and says he would love to work on me again, using new techniques, lasers etc, but I’m happy with how I am.”

“You say you’re happy, yet, you hide yourself away, Jake,” she poked him gently, “not just your body, but you hide in the print room when you should be out carving an electrifying career in the bank.”

“OK, I may wear short sleeve shirts and shorts on occasion in the future, but a banking career?”

“You were brilliant analysing the pony trekking business plan, pointing out the only two possible areas of improvement. And all the advice you give at the bank; you are a natural, honey, deserve to be successful, and the print shop is a complete waste of your talents.”

“We’ll see, let’s not talk business this weekend, eh?”

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

With no hurry to be anywhere, they cuddled and caressed until hunger drove them to the kitchen. They talked while Jake cooked, popping the sausages and bacon under the grill. He prepared the mushrooms and fetched a can of one-calorie oil from the cupboard.

“I use that brand, too, initially for Clay’s fried breakfast, and when I wanted to lose weight, but now I find it a boon for everything,” she said, “you look good on it, Jake, really good.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, “you look pretty fantastic on it yourself.”

With curtains thrown back, I was warm with the spring sunshine streaming through the windows of the flat and they were wearing shorts and tee shirts. Jake was at last comfortably allowing Gill to see him, all of him, albeit indoors together. If he felt self-conscious, his happy expression failed to display it. Gill was soon able to see past his skin and see his shape and the way he moved, and was increasingly fascinated by him.

He placed the plates on the table, she reached over to kiss him thanks, and they sat down opposite one another.

“You were saying how low you felt at Christmas?” Jake asked.

“Yes, I was at a low point, the divorce proceedings definitely lowered my self esteem, I almost didn’t take the promotion that Sir Gerald offered me, only I needed the money to buy my new house and I felt I couldn’t afford to refuse the offer.”

“Everyone tells me you’ve been brilliant in the job, better than Alan Harding, who’d been coasting for too long to his retirement. As his deputy, you’d carried him for the last two years.”

“I love my job. But in January, when they were making the appointment, I didn’t think I’d get it, there were so many rumours of people who were being interviewed, and most expected that someone from outside would likely get the job. I felt I had to work twice as hard, selling up the house, moving, the divorce meetings, everything was getting to me. So Christmas was a sad low point for me. When Wayne came over for Christmas dinner with the kids, he was feeling sorry for himself too, he stayed behind after the kids went to bed and drank too much to be allowed to drive home. I made up a bed for him on the sofa and one thing led to another and he ... he seduced me.”

Jake just nodded. He hadn’t been involved with her then, so what could he say?