Chapter 6

The key to good anal sex, be relaxed. It took them a while and at first it was almost clinical, and most unusually for them, silent. And of course Andrew could barely insert a single finger as Suzanne’s bum was so tense. But then the big old brain finally got some blood, having been somewhat starved of it all afternoon, and they made some changes. Everything switched round. Andrew placed his pillows half way down the bed and Suzanne lay back against them, propped up and more involved in the process. He knelt on the floor, her ankles resting on his shoulders, and kissed and licked her pussy.

“Do you remember what happened the last time? Two fingers in your pussy, can you feel your g-spot throbbing, desperate for my touch?”

He lightly grazed the area, no pressure and smiled as he heard her hiss.

“Have you been practicing your samba moves?”

Andrew pressed his tongue on her clit but just left it there, passively waiting to see what happened. Suzanne happened. Bracing herself against his back with her legs, her hips rode his tongue and a smile crossed Andrew’s face. This was them, fun and relaxed. Suzanne knew what was coming when he slipped his fingers back into her but the orgasm still bloomed like time elapse photography when he firmly stroked her g-spot.

When Andrew pressed against Suzanne’s rosebud this time he slipped in all the way to the second knuckle. When she breathed ‘oh yes’ his dick became even harder. He lost track of time, pussy and clit play with his tongue and gentle sawing and swirling with his finger had him zone out. At one point Suzanne begged for ‘more’ and so he carefully squeezed a second finger in. It was time to focus on her bum. He knew once he started there he could not go back to her pussy; the sexual health book had emphasised that repeatedly. Andrew slipped his fingers out and pushed his tongue against her, rimming her little arsehole. The muscle was too tight for his tongue to penetrate, even after being loosened by his fingers. He switched back and forth between tongue and fingers, until it was time.

A condom seemed the way to go, at least this first time, and so Andrew wrapped up and smeared jelly all over the outside of the condom, slathering the head in particular. His dick was achingly hard, and had been for ages. He re-lubed Suzanne’s rosebud one final time, before he lined it up, gripped the base of his cock and started to gently but steadily push. Andrew’s eyes were locked on Suzanne’s watching her, gauging her reaction. The resistance from the muscle was fierce and then suddenly the head of his dick slid in.

“Aargh.”

Not a scream but hardly a cry of ecstasy either.

“No wait, just give me a second. It takes a bit of getting used to. It is that wide head of yours that is the problem, the shaft is fine.”

Suzanne gripped his hands in hers and semi-smiled, semi-grimaced at him.

“The worst is past, just relax, we are going to do this. Just follow my lead, start and stop as I tell you until you are all the way in, okay?”

Andrew nodded and gradually more and more of his cock disappeared up her arsehole. The visuals were stunning, Suzanne lying back, legs spread wide, strumming away at her clit as he pushed more and more into the tight vise that was her arse. The pressure was at the ring of muscle and while the rectum was tight it was less tight than Mary Jones’ pussy or any number of girls at the moment of orgasm. Suzanne interlaced her fingers with his when he was all the way in and pulled him down.

“I feel so full, it is such an odd feeling.”

She pulled him closer.

“What I need you to do is paint a word picture for me. This has to be your very best Andrew. Tell me how you feel, tell me what you see, explode my mind Andrew.”

Pain erupted in his lower lip. Suzanne had not nipped his lip, she had bitten it, and Andrew could taste blood in his mouth. Even at that moment she was still goading him on.

“You are such a bad girl Suzanne. Don’t you wish I had my camera out, so you could see this rather than just feel it?”

Andrew was slowly stroking in and out and Suzanne was massaging her clit in time with the strokes.

“You are the absolute apex of decadent sexuality. So gloriously ripe, so deliciously fuckable, so unbelievably hot. My cock forcing its way in and out of your arse”

Andrew pulled all the way out of her arsehole and then forced his dick back in, she gasped and strummed her clit harder.

“But that is not the image you want, is it? You don’t want to see the look of tenderness in my eyes, you don’t need that, do you?”

Suzanne’s face was rigid now. As Andrew bent closer the mind games started, the whispers that transported her away.

“You want the beast, don’t you? You are always trying to get me to unleash but it is not for me, is it? You feel the need deep inside, don’t you? To finally let go. It is not me that needs to let go is it Suzanne? You need to let go and you can’t, you have searched, lost in the wilderness, so desperate for the moment when your mind, body and soul sing as one.”

She was close to hyperventilating now. Andrew pulled out, flipped her over like a doll and shoving her forward filled her up once more. Her keening wail filled the air.

“I don’t need to unleash the beast, do I? But you, oh you crave the beast, to be held down and taken. Think if Mum walked in right now? Pinned down on the bed, been buggered, being taken, like a mare in heat desperate for the stallion to slake her lust. Think about all the girls at school looking at you on Monday morning as we walk into Assembly, all of them able to tell that you spent all afternoon getting buggered senseless. All of them so jealous of you, wishing that they had your bravery, wishing that you could explain the sexual insanity flowing in your veins.”

His hips were a blur, Suzanne’s hand was a blur and Andrew’s mind was a blur. This only had one inevitable conclusion and as she came so did he slumping over, resting on Suzanne’s back unable even to move. Andrew pulled the condom off and wiped his dick on his tee-shirt, conveniently to hand. He pulled Suzanne onto him and held her tight, letting the emotion flow out of her, letting her know he loved her.

“I don’t think I can do that again. I struggle to be like that with you, if it is what you need then I will try but I am not wired that way.”

Andrew let her lie silently as they tried to process what had happened.

“I know, you are the most romantic man, but please push yourself for me. I never felt as loved as I did then Andrew. You were doing that for me, and for me alone.”

She looked at him as she lay there tired but calm.

“I could never trust anyone like I trust you. You could do anything to me and I would love it. That is why I want to play dress-up with you, it is the only way I am going to get you to come to the dark side with me.”

He snorted at the Star Wars reference and she smiled.

“I really did feel like I broke through your control, and when you took me, I made you mine.”

She stopped, trying to make sense of everything in her head.

“Now is not the right time to make sense of all this but know this Andrew. I loved all this, and needed it too.”

They were at the outer reaches of Andrew’s understanding of sexuality and so he just held her. She was one of his dearest friends, the person to who he was closest to, sexually, in the whole world and whatever she needed he would be there to help. Quietly he gulped at that admission. The weekend was full of doubt and reflection. Andrew was at the Commonwealth on Sunday morning and swam slowly for as long as he could, nearly 90 minutes by the time he was done. It troubled him that Suzanne needed to feel like she was being taken, even the word had horrible connotations in his mind. But she said she loved it and needed it. As with June and her need to be photographed, who was he to judge. Andrew could play the game, he was worried about everyone else and how they would react, would Suzanne be safe. He had no answers to those questions however far he swam. When he pulled himself out the pool Suzanne was sitting in the spectator area. Was he really that predictable? Apparently so. 20 minutes later they were in the usual café on South Clerk Street holding coffees.

“I knew you would want to think about everything and I also know where you do your best thinking.”

She sounded smug. Andrew shook his head but really didn’t have much of a comeback.

“Come on then, tell me what you have thought.”

It all came down to his worries for her. Her safety and the situations that she got herself into. He couldn’t really explain about June without betraying a confidence but he tried. She listened with interest as he poured it all out in his usual un-coordinated manner.

“Typical you, no judgement just worries about your friend.”

She smiled and laid his hand in hers.

“As you intuitively said on Friday afternoon unleashing the beast was all about me not you. I don’t know how it started or when but it has been building gradually for a long time. You slotted some of the pieces into place with your strength. Throwing me around, flipping me over, bending me in half, all of them resonate inside me. I don’t know how your sexuality is created, how it grows, whether it is innate within you from birth waiting to flower during puberty, or whether it is a product of the environment that you are surrounded with. For me now, it is irrelevant. When you take control, my body is like a tuning fork, it vibrates in harmony. Anytime you are moving my body it feels like you are in control. I don’t know whether this goes back to being fat when I was 13 to 15, the height of puberty, the defining period for my sexuality. The taboo-ness of Friday played a part, the naughtiness of it and of course that was in your whispers as well. Your mother watching, everyone at school knowing. You had me pinned down and could control everything.

“But here is the key thing. It is all about trust, I trust you like I trust no other man. You have spanked me twice, played with my arse including fucking me in it on Friday. It has taken years to get to this point. I am still exploring, in some ways worried about what I find. The day you spanked me and I encouraged you to the perfect point, versus the day at the hotel when you popped me on the arse a couple of times. Talk about conflict, you were so typically you. But I asked you for 10 more spanks and you were still careful not to go too far and part of me was grateful but there was a part of me wanted you to spank me and not stop. Feelings like that scare and confuse me. Even the way you talked about the dress up. Fuck, I just have to think about it and I need to go and change my knickers. What were your words, ‘love and dread at the same time’; that is me in one phrase. A lot of my sexuality is tied up in that phrase.

“Remember when the three of us talked about you and your need to be passionate, it is who you are. Well this is me, I have the need to give up control with sex.”

Andrew held her hand processing everything that Suzanne had said. He thought about Allison and how she craved the control, how he was happy to play with her including being tied up. Was this any different? It came back to trusting your partner. Standard one night stand sex was not like this, this was deep relationship sex. He focused back on the moment and Suzanne was smiling at him.

“Welcome back, you were off in your own world there for a minute, you really can tune the world out.”

“Sorry, I was thinking about your situation versus someone else I know and comparing and contrasting. As you said it comes down to trust, without it all this is very dangerous. I think I will always worry for you but I also know this is you and you have to live your own life.”

She giggled.

“When I go to Glasgow in the autumn and end up in some cute guy’s bed it will be nothing but sex. The level of trust we have takes a long time to build up.”

While Andrew worked away at the Food Bank that afternoon he reflected some more. He had compared Suzanne to June but hadn’t thought that comparison all the way through. June thought she wanted to be photographed, topless and naked. But when it came time for the shoot the reality was different to her fantasies and she pulled back from the edge. Andrew had no way of knowing how Suzanne would react to further playing. He was at peace, this was who Suzanne was, he needed to accept it and help her explore it. That last thought got all the blood flowing.

Monday morning on their first walk to school in a month Andrew was in a devilish mood. He teased Suzanne that everyone could tell from the way she was walking that she had been fucked up the arse on Friday. Despite repeated whacks they were in a good mood. Three paces from the Assembly Hall just as they were about to go in he leaned in and whispered in her ear ‘everyone can tell’. After an interminable assembly they were walking out and Suzanne spoke to him quietly.

“I thought everyone was looking at me, everyone. You are the devil.”

Andrew would have been worried if she did not completely radiate sexuality. Pete wandered up to him.

“What did you do to Suzanne? She looks different.”

“No more exams Pete, we all probably have the same look of freedom.”

Pete laughed and dropped it. Andrew was still working hard completing his final Open University course, the project, a database structure to capture all the data from his CSYS physics project. He thought that tying the two of them together made sense and hoped to extend the research as his 4^th year project at University. He had designed the database, had the data entered and the report writing function seemed to be working well, all that was left was the documentation of the system. He had to have everything in Milton Keynes by June 17^th in preparation for the final review visit during the week of July 11^th. As with all projects it was a little too frantic the weekend before but he had everything off in the mail on June 15^th in time to make the submission deadline.

June 1983 was a time of farewells, some of which were unsaid and unacknowledged, if Andrew ever saw Rob Derry again it would be too soon. He spent part of a morning chatting to Vinnie Kirk, someone he had always got on okay with without ever being very close to. Unsurprisingly he was going to be the Dux and was in the office going through the requirements for the day as well as getting details of his prize.

“Thank you for pushing me Andrew. When you beat me in 4^th year it just made me work even harder. And then you just gave it all up, dropped out of contention when you ditched your formal language requirement. Why?”

“It was never really important to me Vinnie. The challenge and pride of having a chance at being the Dux versus the reality of hating Latin and wishing I had never chosen it. In the end it allowed me to concentrate of Maths and Physics.”

Andrew was tempted to tell him about the Open University, but resisted, it was too much like bragging.

“I was happy doing well in Maths and Physics, I was never going to beat you in languages or English. I’ll get a couple of subject prizes at the end of term. Where are you going to university?”

“Balliol at Oxford, assuming I get the exams, PPE.”

“Well we’ll be rivals going forward then, Trinity at Cambridge for Engineering.”

That may have been his longest conversation ever with Vinnie, two weeks from the end of term after nearly 10 years together at the same school. As Andrew had predicted earlier in the term, the prefects had a lot of administrative tasks to do, including helping in the school office, conducting a seemingly never ending series of open days and generally making the teachers lives as cushy as possible. This was where he started to say his goodbyes to the teachers. Some were perfunctory like Caldwell and Cousins, the school equivalent of air kisses and ‘we must have lunch’, both sides knowing that was never going to happen. Others were more heart felt. Some were shorter than others, Mrs. Hall and Mr. Kearns got sincere thanks but Andrew had not had them as a teacher for several years, Kearns since the incident with Lyle. Doc Fraser and Commander Travis were two teachers that he spent more time with, and Travis in particular was embarrassingly fulsome in his praise. The three teachers who Andrew was most thankful for, and who he spent the most time with were Mr. Nicol his Physics teacher, Mr. Durrand his Maths teacher and the head of the Maths department, and old Mrs. Graves the Librarian. The first two meetings were mutually complimentary, them of his results, him of their teaching. They were good teachers who had made school bearable, no stupidity and allowed him to thrive. Mrs. Graves on the other hand was the sharpest knife in the drawer.

“We are both leaving Andrew, it is time for me to retire. Sometimes I think it was only you and your gaggle of female admirers that kept me coming in here.”

Andrew laughed with her at the characterisation although on some days she wasn’t wrong.

“Can I ask you something?”

Her demeanour was polite but there was intense curiosity in her eyes.

“Of course you can.”

Andrew was curious about what she was curious about.

“What were you doing with all your time? You studied compulsively at lunch and after school for years, aced everything, dropped your language, but never slowed down. Did you work in the family business in the evenings or something? A shop, a restaurant?”

Andrew thought about all that this kind old lady had done for him and mentally shrugged, why not?

“I have never told a teacher this and I would prefer to survive the last 10 days without it becoming a big to do, but I was a student at the Open University. This lunchtime I went to the post office and sent off my final project for grading. Subject to a review meeting on that project I will have a BSc in Computer Science from the Open University. I started in January 1980 and have just finished. That is why I tried to get all my homework done at school, I had computer science to study at night.”