A Good Man - Cover

A Good Man

Copyright© 2011 by Marc Nobbs

Chapter 7: Warned Off

Vicky wouldn’t let me have the car for two nights running, so I walked to Kelly’s house early on Saturday evening and we took her mom’s car instead. We ate first before going to the movies. Micester didn’t actually have a cinema but the multiplex on the edge of Westmouth was only a ten-minute drive. Fortunately, I didn’t have to watch the same film two nights running.

Afterwards, we drove back to Micester, parked up at The Rec and went for a walk around the lake.

“How did it go last night?” Kelly asked.

“It was good. Lauren and Kevin seem made for each other.”

Kelly laughed. “Yeah, she’s had a crush on him for ages.”

“He’s been crushing on her for ages too but never had the guts to ask her out.”

“What about you and Lisa? I know the two of you were only there because of her mom but...”

I shrugged. “It was fine. We left them in the car for a while and went for a walk. We talked and stuff. It was nice.”

“And stuff?” She was grinning.

“You’ve already spoken to her haven’t you?”

She arched an eyebrow and her pupils twinkled in answer.

I smiled. “So we kissed. Big deal. It was a date, wasn’t it?”

“You know she’s had a crush on you for a while, don’t you? That’s why she felt she had to speak to me on Friday. I can’t believe she thought she had to ask my permission.”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

We came to the same bench I’d shared with Lisa the night before and sat down.

“She says you’re going out again next weekend.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“She’s a nice girl.”

“But?”

“But...”

“No spark?”

I nodded. “Not like with...”

She looked up at me. “I know. I’m sorry. But...”

“Yeah.”

We fell silent and stared out over the lake.

“Don’t hurt her,” Kelly whispered. “She likes you, but she’s not like Lauren. She’s—”

“I know. And I’ll try not to. Hurt her, I mean. But...”

“I know.”

She leaned into me as we watched the moon’s reflection move with the ripples caused by the wind. She smelled so good. Felt so good pressed up against me.

I was beginning to think that perhaps coming out with her wasn’t such a good idea after all. My feelings for her were still there. I’d buried them deep over the past year, but they were definitely still there. We’d gone out for about nine months the first time around before things ended and they’d been the best nine months of my life. People described us as a volatile couple because it seemed we were fighting half the time and loved up the rest. And people stayed out of our way when we fought.

But the fighting never lasted long and the making up afterwards was always fantastic. We’d given each other our virginities and explored what we could do to each other and with each other to make us feel good. There was a connection between us that would never die. We’d been right to split up when we did but I would never forget what we’d shared.

I felt her hand on my chest and looked down to see her eyes wide and her pupils dilated. She didn’t even have to ask. Our lips met and we went straight back to the old routine. There was no need to explore or to work out what the other needed. We both knew how much pressure to apply and which way the other was going to move. We were as synchronised as champion ballroom dancers, except we had twinkle-tongues rather than twinkle-toes.

She pulled my hand to her chest and as I squeezed gently, I could feel the rise and fall of her laboured breathing. She moaned quietly and pulled back. Her face flushed with desire.

“Damn.”

“I know.”

“Why the fuck did I ever dump you?”

“Because you realised what I’d already known. That we’re headed in different directions.”

“You want out of here, don’t you? Out of Micester. For good.”

I nodded. “Too many bad memories.”

“Yeah.”

“You knew it had to end some time so you got out before we were in too deep and would’ve gotten hurt too bad.”

She shook her head. “It didn’t work. It still hurt.”

“Tell me about it.”

“And it took me ages to get over you.”

“I don’t think I’m quite over you yet.”

“Yes, you are, Paul. You’re doing fine. And I’m happy you’re taking Lisa out again. It’ll do you good.”

“Perhaps.”

“It will. She’s a nice girl.”

We kissed again but it felt slightly different. It was almost as if we were giving each other the last goodbye that we hadn’t had a year ago. While I caressed her boob, she fumbled to open my fly, pulled out my cock and stroked it slowly. It had been a year since any hand other than mine had held my cock—and it was that same person that held it now.

She broke the kiss and whispered, “Did you come appropriately equipped?”

I nodded. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Is Vicky working late tonight?”

“She’ll be back about two.”

“Good.” She kissed me once more then said, “Take me home. One last time.”

“For old time’s sake?”

She nodded. “Plus, you’re really, really, good.”


I was in a good mood when as I walked to school on Monday morning. My MP3 player served up a mix of tunes that matched my mood and I had it turned up loud so I didn’t hear the person calling to me before I went through the school doors. At a tap on my arm, I turned around.

“Gav?” I pulled my earphones out. “What up?” Gavin Davies was one of only two members of our class who played for The Quilters. Well, I say played, he’d gotten on the pitch three times so far this season for a total of about thirty minutes. Still, he was one for the future according to his profile on the club’s website.

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