Chapter 5

Jasmine didn't come home. Thanks to Anna, I slept and didn't worry, and when I woke, Anna had my attention. Of course; how could she not? There was no way I was up for another round, lovely as she was, but I certainly enjoyed letting my hands roam ... not to mention my eyes, my tongue ... she really did taste wonderful. We got ourselves down to breakfast, oh, nine o' clock. Jasmine came in half an hour later. Actually, sidled would be a better adjective. She wouldn't look at me at first, standing as she was just inside the door. I stood and went over to her, took her hands in mine.

"Jazz," I spoke quietly, gently, "look at me, sweetie."

She did meet my eyes, then.

"I'm not going to be angry with you for doing what I told you to do. I understand why you did it this way. I'm not going to stop loving you; in fact, this means I can go on loving you."

She flung her arms round me then and squeezed me tight; her voice was very shaky when she spoke. "I feel torn in two."

I turned my head and looked at Anna. Somehow she caught what I wanted to communicate and came and joined in the hug.

"I'm assuming you were with Danny last night at his home."

She nodded against my chest.

"How did Tammy react this morning?"

"Oh ... she seemed to take it in her stride ... just put a bowl on the table in front of me and asked me what cereal I'd like ... and orange or apple juice."

I snorted. "Sounds about right. I don't mind you bringing him here, but if I remember rightly he's got a bigger bed."

She giggled, then looked at Anna, then me. "You two?"

Anna said, "Bill turned me into a puddle of goo last night. I've never experienced anything like it."

Jasmine sniggered, "he does that quite well, doesn't he?"

"He certainly lived up to your hype," Anna responded.

I blushed. "You two ... either go and discuss me elsewhere or find something less embarrassing to talk about, please. I can't believe you set me up, Jasmine, and hyped me to Anna."

She drew back slightly and looked me in the eyes very seriously. "It's hard letting go of you, and I couldn't have done it if there hadn't been someone to take my place."

"Sexually or emotionally?" I enquired.

"Both, of course. Quite apart from your well-being, I couldn't let you go to waste, now could I?"

"Okay ... so how was Danny?"

She blushed comprehensively. "He's lovely. He really is like you, you know ... but ... not very experienced. I'll have to get him to come and talk to you."

"Thanks! Just what I needed!"

She looked at her watch. "Oh, no ... gotta run. Bill ... I love you, you know that?"

"Yes, baby. You get off ... I'll be fine – we'll be fine, okay?"

Jasmine rushed around collecting books and notes and rushed out of the door minutes later. I stood in the kitchen looking at said door. Anna came and wrapped herself round me. "You alright, Bill?"

I held her with one arm and stroked her hair with the other hand, very conscious of her warm body, her breasts, pressing against me and sighed. "I will be, thanks to you, love. I will be."

Jasmine didn't lose sight of her aim. Most nights she slept in the guest room. Sometimes Danny stayed over; sometimes she spent the night with him. Tammy seemed very accepting of the situation; I suppose it made sense, sort of. But through all she kept up her studies. I liked having her in the house, even if was uncomfortable at times, and she and Anna seemed to get along really well.

Anna? Well, it was almost like being an old married couple after the first few weeks. She did open up about her marriage though. Seems her husband expected her to give him oral, but would never return the favour. Not to mention being a one-shot wonder, and not a very good one shot at that. She found out he was cheating and when she confronted him just shrugged and told her she was frigid anyway and didn't turn him on any more. She up and left, quit her job in advertising and got herself admitted to the Hallam PGCE course. He was dragging out the divorce ... she'd get half the equity in their house eventually ... but at least had some savings – about enough to see her through the course.

"Though now, thanks to you, I'm going to be ahead."

I watched her as she told me her tale; at rather greater length than this, which is just a summary.

"Did you say he thought you were frigid?" I frowned – it was hard to believe.

"Yep. Certainly did. I was tempted to tell him what I thought of his technique ... or lack of it, but managed to resist. I just told him 'best of luck', and when I saw the girl-friend, told her I hoped he made her as happy as he made me."

"Ouch!" Then I laughed, "frigid!" Sometimes when I start to laugh, I sort of lose control; it can be quite painful on the stomach muscles. This was one of those occasions. After a few minutes of looking puzzled, she started to smile, then to giggle.

I eventually wound down, gasping. "Frigid. Okay, it does happen, but most women labelled 'frigid' are just married to a man who can't be bothered to find out what heats them up. Anna ... I hope you realise you are one hundred percent sexy woman. He's just an idiot; a lazy, selfish idiot."

She came to me and held me close. "What a lovely man you are..."

"With a lovely lady. But..." I frowned, "what about us? Susan and I never divorced..."

"Bill ... you still love her, don't you?" It wasn't a challenge, or a plea ... just a simple, calm statement of fact.

I thought about it. 'I divorce Susan, marry Anna (if she'll agree)and if Susan and I meet, we'll just be ... acquaintances.' No, that didn't seem right, didn't fit. 'I love my wife'. Truth. 'I'm willing to give up Anna and beg Susan to come back'. A horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"I still love Susan. I'd hate to think we'd be separated for ever. But..."

"But..." she held my head in both hands, one on each cheek, and looked intensely into my eyes, "you love me too, don't you?" Again, not a plea, a simple, firm, statement of fact. "Not," she added, moments later, while I was still processing the idea, "perhaps quite like Susan, but still, love."

I couldn't deny it. "Yes," I said, "I do. Trying to work it out ... it's uncomfortable. But I'd ... hate to lose you, but I don't want to think I'd never see Susan again. You know why she left, do you?"

"Oh, yes," she smiled, "I was fully briefed. Otherwise, we wouldn't be having this conversation. We wouldn't be where, how, we are. I'm not the kind of woman who seduces a married man."

"No, I don't suppose you are ... I never thought you were. But then, I haven't really thought through what kind of man I am; I never thought I'd find myself sleeping with a woman not my wife."

"Bill ... would it freak you out if I were to say... 'I love you'?"

That made me stop and think again. I really hadn't thought through this whole situation even in part.

"No..." I said slowly, "it sort of makes me happy ... but, it does add a layer to my decision-making. If I had to choose..."

"Your wife has a prior claim?"

"Yes ... if she wanted to exercise it."

She stretched forward and kissed me gently. "Good. I can live with that. I wouldn't like to leave, but I wouldn't want to stay if you were willing to give up on Susan that easily. Does that make sense? I'm not sure it does to me!"

"I think so."

"In that case, I'm afraid I need to be in town in half an hour. Meet me at Uni for lunch?"

"Gladly."

It's strange, but some days it seems everything is coming at once. Anna hadn't long been out of the door, I was warming up the computer to do some writing and the kettle was coming to the boil when I heard a very distinctive motorcycle draw up outside. The old Panther was/is probably the last long-stroke engined bike produced; the joke is 'one firing stroke for every lamp-post' as it turns at such low revs. While they can be made to go fast – I've seen one win a classic bike race ... seriously – they really come into their own as a sidecar machine.