Chapter 21: Match Day

During my time in The United States, I lost count of the number of women I had sex with. I mean that quite literally, it’s why I started and kept the diary. Although, it’s probably fairer to say I stopped counting rather than I lost count. Small difference, but perhaps significant because it tells you about my state of mind at the time.

But despite that, I could probably count the number of women that I’d slept in the same bed with overnight on both hands—or maybe both hands and a foot. Or both hands and both feet. It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that of those, I probably got a decent, restful night’s sleep with maybe two. Gina was the first—the waitress from New York and the first of many women I had sex with during the trip. Yes, that first night together was the first time I dreamt about Clarissa, but other than that I slept really well. I was really comfortable with Gina—both in bed and out of it. I think maybe that’s what spooked me and sent me into the spiral of madness for the next eighteen months.

The only other one was a woman I met in Nashville on what should have been a flying visit to see the Grand Ole Oprey and the Country Music Hall of Fame, but I ended up spending a couple of weeks there instead because of this woman. We hit it off after I bought her a drink when she finished her set in one of those music bars they have there—yes, she was a singer. So very clichéd. She wasn’t famous—yet, but I’m sure she would be one day—and had performed at an Open Mic night.

Once I got to Westmouth, I slept in the same bed overnight with pretty much everyone that Amanda set me up with. It was expected—or at least the encore in the morning was expected. But the only one I’d really got a good night’s sleep with (the dreams about Clarissa aside) had been Hannah.

So it was perhaps no surprise that I got a good night’s sleep after fucking Hannah’s brains out (twice). I woke up the next morning spooned up behind her, my morning wood pressed up against her peachy round arse and one arm draped over her with my hand cupping her big round breast.

I gently squeezed her boob. Then caressed the fleshy orb with my thumb before gently pinching her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. At the same time, I ground my crotch against her bum.

She responded by pushing her arse back against me and moaning softly. Then she twisted so that she was half on her back but able to keep her arse pressed against me.

“Morning,” she said with a smile. “I could get used to waking up like this.”

I smiled back. “Me too.”

I moved my head forward so that I could kiss her. A tender, caring kiss which slowly became more heated. Eventually she reached a hand down to grab my cock, lifted one leg and, despite the somewhat awkward position, managed to slot my rod into her welcoming pussy for the third time in less than ten hours.

The position meant it wasn’t fast & frenetic, but that wasn’t what either of us wanted. It was slow and sensual. She silently shivered through a couple of orgasms before I flooded her cunt with my semen once more, after which I flopped onto my back, both sated and shattered from the effort of fucking in one of the most awkward positions possible, and Hannah rolled over to snuggle up beside me. She draped a leg over me, rested her head against my shoulder as I wrapped an arm around her, and placed a hand on my chest as our breathing returned to normal after the morning workout.

She sighed. “I wish I could stay here like this all morning. All day, even.”

“I don’t see why you can’t.”

“Well, for one, I’ve got studying to do and don’t you have an essay to write for Monday?”

I shrugged. “I’ve got all day tomorrow to do that.”

“And second, I must have a gallon of your cum inside me already and God knows how much more there’ll be if we stay here. I might drown.”

I shrugged again. “I could clean you up.”

She lifted her head so she could look down at me and frowned. “You’d do that?”

I shrugged a third time. “I’ve done it before. I mean ... It came out of me anyway, right? And it would be a bit hypocritical to expect women to swallow something I wouldn’t be willing to myself. I mean, if it was someone else’s then...” I screwed up my face. “But it’s not. Not unless you snuck into Mark’s room while I was asleep.”

She shook her head, glanced over at the clock on my bedside table, then set it down on my shoulder again. “Eight o’clock. How about another hour like this. Then we’ll get up and have a shower or something. Is that ensuite big enough for two?”

I nodded.

“Sounds like a plan then. You’ll have to drive me home though; I’m not doing the walk of shame though the streets in my Alice costume.” She pointed to the TV on top of my dresser in the corner of the room. “Any chance you could put the breakfast news on?”

“So, how did it go?” Chloë asked.

“Well, I was able to do the research and about half of a first draft on Saturday afternoon and then finished the first draft on Sunday morning before lunch and typed up a final copy in the afternoon. Handed it in this morning and I think I should get a decent enough grade for it.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She grinned.

It was Monday afternoon and Chloë had popped around as she was in the area. Yeah, of course she was.

“It was... Fine. That’s what Hannah keeps saying, things are fine. And she’s right. We had a good time on Friday night. We’re not soul mates or anything but I like her and she likes me and we get along just fine. We’re not going to be together forever—hell, I doubt we’ll make it past Christmas because she’ll have to concentrate on her dissertation by then—but that’s fine.”

Chloë grinned. “So things are fine, then?”

I shook my head and smiled.

“What about Saturday? Did you go out then?”

I nodded. “Just to the cinema—although this time we did join up with everyone else in Central Pier. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

“What do you mean this time?”

“The first time we went to the cinema was to see Of Mars & Men and didn’t really fancy going to the club after that.”

“I can’t understand that. It’s quite a...” She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s the best word to describe it.”

“Me neither. It’s a really good film though. I can see why it’s being bigged up for an Oscar or two.”

“Oh, absolutely! I really hope Sam gets nominated for Best Director—he deserves it so much—but I’m not sure it will happen. Jack and Nigel will probably get nominated in the acting categories though. And it will get a ton of nominations in the technical categories—you know, Costume Design, Special Effects and things like that.”

“And what about you?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No chance. I know it’s a significant role because ... Well, you know ... But I’m only in about half a dozen scenes, if that. And for what? Less than fifteen minutes in total? The longest scene I’m in is the one where I die, so...” She shrugged. “And besides, I’m hoping to get a Best Actress nomination for my next film and there’s no way I’ll get nominated for both Best Supporting Actress and Best Actress. Speaking of which, how would you like to come to the World Première in London in January? You, Hannah, your housemates, Emily & Lisa?”

“That would actually be pretty cool. An actual World Première? I’ll have to speak to everyone first, of course—”

“Oh, I’ve already asked the girls in the group chat—”

“But of course you have.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “They are all up for it, anyway, so you just have to ask Hannah. Assuming you’re still together then. Which from what you just said is by no means certain. And if you’re not ... Well, I guess we will just have to find you another date.”

“We’ll see,” I said. “We’ll see.”

And so, October became November and here I was with an actual girlfriend and not questioning anything about the relationship at all. I wasn’t denying Hannah was my girlfriend and I wasn’t hiding it from anyone. We continued to have lunch together every day—well, most days—and to see each other for a couple of hours in The Cap each evening—well, most evenings.

Alannah and I breezed through our second-round match of the badminton tournament, setting up a semi-final against Ross and Gemma for last week in November—there being a break in our mixed-doubles section while the men’s and ladies singles and doubles sections took place instead. Hannah and I went out with our friends as usual on Friday evenings, then did something together, just the two of us, on Saturday afternoon into early evening before meeting up with our friends again later on.

My life was... Stable. That’s the best word to describe it. For the first time in a long time there was no drama, no angst.

I was happy. Happier than I’d been in a long time. Hannah and I were comfortable with each other and good friends outside of the bedroom, and enjoyed very good, very satisfying sex inside the bedroom. And outside the bedroom too on occasions. Turns out that not only did Hannah have both a mild submissive streak and a mild dominant streak, but she also had something of an exhibitionist streak too.

She loved it when I took charge—she always seemed to come extra hard on those occasions when I pinned her to the bed and hammered her as hard as I could or bent her over and took her roughly from behind. But also really enjoyed making me lie back and then riding me like a cowgirl or edging me with her mouth for as long as she possibly could. But what really surprised me was how much she liked to do things in situations where there was a possibility of us getting caught. On one Friday night, we left The Union early, well before any of her housemates and hustled back to her Student Village House. Once inside she started to climb the stairs, but stopped half-way up, flicked her skirt up over her hips, bent over to brace herself with her arms on a step in front of her and ordered me to just push the gusset of her panties aside and fuck her right there on the stairs.

We heard the key in the lock of the front door just as I unloaded my balls inside her snug pussy and, giggling all the way, we quickly raced the rest of the way up the stairs and into her room.

Another time, we woke very early on Sunday morning at my place, and she dragged me downstairs to the kitchen to make coffee.

We never actually got around to making the coffee at all.

I think it was just that Hannah was comfortable enough with me to explore her wild side. And I was more than happy to let her and reap the benefits. It was, in short, a typical student relationship. We both knew it wouldn’t last because we were at different points in our lives—or at least in our university careers—and we both accepted it and tried to make the most of however long we had together.

I almost felt normal.

Almost.

The last Wednesday of November, the twenty-seventh, was semi-final day in the three doubles tournaments, the men’s, ladies’ and mixed. The following Wednesday, which also happened to be my twenty-first birthday, the men’s and ladies’ singles semi-finals would take place. Then all five final matches were the week after that, the eleventh, just before the start of the Christmas break on the thirteenth—Friday the thirteenth.

I was sort of relieved that there was no possibility of having to play a match on my birthday. Twenty-one is supposed to be a big deal and while I had no idea what, if anything, my friends had planned, I was certain that Chloë’s Group Chat wouldn’t let it pass without marking it in some way.

Alannah and Lily joined me for lunch before the match. We were scheduled to play after the other semi, which started at two. I expected we’d be on court sometime between three and four. Alannah was unusually quiet over lunch. After her initial frostiness towards me had thawed, she’d turned out to be quite loquacious. Actually, that’s probably unfair. Loquacious implies she talked too much, but Alannah wasn’t like that. She wasn’t one of those people who needs to talk about something, anything, just to fill the silence. No, Alannah often spoke passionately and eloquently about the things she cared about. And she cared about a lot of things—some much more passionately than others.