Fun in the Sun
Jo, T-Girl Goddess, Book 3
(Years ago I watched an adult movie which featured the late Camilla De Castro. I found the way she and her partner made love to each other very erotic. She was simply gorgeous and is the inspiration for my character, Jo, T-Girl Goddess!)
Jo blinked as she walked out the dimness of Fire nightclub and onto brightly-lit South Lambeth Road.
It was five thirty in the morning and she’d had a blast.
But, the club hadn’t felt quite the same without Ricki.
They had gone to the club together for years, not as often as they would have liked because Norman had kept Ricki on a tight leash, but whenever they had had the chance they had torn the place up, whether it was a house or a gay night.
It was way, way out of the way for two East End girls, but the club, regarded by most as a cult classic, was as addictive as a drug. To avoid being hit upon by anyone else she and Ricki had danced with each other all night and no one seeing them would have believed that they weren’t a couple.
They had behaved outrageously and no doubt several of the men, if they hadn’t been lucky enough to pull someone that night, would have gone home with bursting cocks and pairs of very blue balls.
Since Ricki had left for Barbados several months ago, Jo had felt the need to come back to the club and enjoy its unique atmosphere and music…and hopefully miss Ricki a little less.
It had worked for several hours as she had gyrated among the regulars and had more fun than she’d had in a while.
But moments ago, the DJ had played one of Ricki’s favourite songs and the emptiness inside Jo had threatened to overwhelm her.
Missing Ricki with a sudden, stomach-clenching intensity, she had needed to get away from the noise and the crowd immediately.
It had been better than staying at home, she conceded, as she filled her lungs with the crisp morning air.
She was glad she had made the effort to come, but she would never come again.
Not alone, certainly.
Now tired and hungry, she needed her comfy, king-sized bed and needed it right now.
When she had left home earlier she had intended to leave the club at six in the morning and take the Tube from Vauxhall Station, returning home the way she had come.
She had a valid monthly Zone 1-4 Travelcard in her purse and wouldn’t pay a penny if she went home that way.
A cab from here to her Wanstead flat would cost her nearly £50, including the tip.
Having freed herself from under the burden of debt with Ricki’s generous and totally unexpected £50,000 gift, Jo had vowed never to let herself be trapped again. She hadn’t realized how much having a huge debt had affected her, until she’d paid it off and felt a weight magically lift off her shoulders.
She was trying to be sensible, trying to live within her means and not spend money unnecessarily.
But the idea of sitting in the back of a warm cab, dozing lightly, as the driver took her straight to her front door was so appealing.
Night buses, filled with drunken club goers, wouldn’t be as comfortable, though they wouldn’t cost her anything.
But she would have to change buses at Trafalgar Square and there would be no guarantee that the bus that would take her two corners from her flat would come before she froze to death.
She would be sensible, she decided…but not this morning.
Soon I’ll be home and in my warm bed, she thought blissfully as she lengthened her stride and headed towards the nearest cab office.
Turning the next corner sharply, she narrowly avoided the punch the burly man in a rage threw at his cowering girlfriend.
Hell no!
Jo didn’t even think twice before wading in and kneeing the man in the groin before he realized her intention.
As he went down clutching his pulverized balls, Jo grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and made a dash for the N87 that had stopped at the nearby stop.
The bus was heading in the direction opposite to the one Jo needed, but getting out of the immediate vicinity was her main priority; she would worry about finding her way home once she had put some distance between her and the woman, and the raging man.
She let the woman proceed her into the bus and stood in the doorway, nervously flexing her thigh muscles as the man’s girlfriend rummaged through her small bag.
“Do you need the fare?” she asked the woman helpfully, trying to curb her impatience.
How could the woman possibly have lost anything in such a tiny bag?
“No, I have a Travelcard,” the woman replied, glancing fearfully over her shoulder instead of into her bag.
“If you have a pass, go on then, love,” the kindly bus driver told the woman.
“Thank you.”
Jo touched her Travelcard to the Oyster card reader and threw the driver a grateful, relieved smile as he closed the doors and pulled away from the bus stop.
Just as the woman’s boyfriend managed to get to his feet and started stumbling slowly towards the bus.
He stopped, cupped his crotch and dropped to his knees again when he realized it was moving off.
Jo couldn’t help feel a twinge of empathetic sympathy for him.
She’d experienced the pain of busted balls on more than one occasion and hated that she’d had to resort to kneeing him when she knew from bitter experience how much an impact between balls and anything hard hurt.
If there had been enough time, she might have tried a well-placed karate chop, but there hadn’t been a moment to lose.
And the fucker was too big and strong to be beating on a woman, especially one this petite.
He looked like an off-duty bouncer.
Jo wasn’t sure that it would have been a good idea to test her karate skill against his brute strength.
When they sat down on the back seat, the woman was still glancing nervously back in the direction from which they had come.
Jo suspected that there would be hell to pay, if the man caught up with them.
Most men would have been rolling around in agony, but he’d been determinedly trying to master the pain and catch the bus before it had pulled off.
“Thank you,” the woman said as she let out an audible sigh of relief and faced forwards.
“You’re welcome.” Something about her stirred a flick in Jo’s memory, but the woman kept her head down and hidden. Wondering if the man had landed a few punches before she’d intervened, she asked concerned, “You alright?”
“I guess.” The woman finally lifted her head and gave her rescuer a small, sad smile. “Thanks, Jo.”
“Trisha?” Jo gasped in disbelief and hugged the other woman. “What the hell were you thinking messing around with that guy? The last time I called, you said that you’d stopped partying.”
“It’s a long story and I’ll tell you about it later. First I think we should get off this bus before he jumps in a cab or taxi and catches up with us.”
“Good thinking, Batwoman!” Jo immediately pressed the bell.
She had thought they were safe quitting the scene of the crime and the muscle-bound fucker, but Trisha was absolutely right.
All he had to do was jump in a cab, follow the bus route, overtake the bus and wait to board at the following stop.
The lower deck of the bus was empty except for the two of them and from the lack of sound coming from the upper deck, there were no passengers upstairs.
The driver looked days away from retirement.
There would be no one to rescue them if the man managed to board the bus.
Getting off the bus, they quickly crossed to the other side of the road.
Jo breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the flashing orange light just ahead, the beacon of hope to all hopelessly drunk revellers in London–a mini cab office.
She grabbed Trisha’s hand and hurried towards it, feeling exposed without the cover of the bus.
It was only as they squeezed nervously into one of the mini cabs a few minutes later that she noticed that the bus they’d been on hadn’t yet driven off.
The driver had either decided that he couldn’t be bothered to drive an empty bus, or was running ahead of schedule and had stopped to regularize the service.
Whatever the reason, Jo was glad that they had made their escape when less than a minute later, a cab passed them, heading in the opposite direction, with the man and his bruised balls in the front passenger seat!
Jo and Trisha both instinctively ducked out of sight, although he looked too focussed on catching the bus ahead of him.
“Can we get off this main road, please?” she asked the driver. “Someone’s following us.”
“Sure.” The young Asian driver didn’t ask further questions, probably used to dealing with strange requests.
When he turned left at the next corner, both of his passengers breathed audible sighs of relief.
Jo felt sick as she thought of how close their escape had been.
She might wear heels and short dresses, but she fought like a man as several men had discovered the hard way.
But something about the man they had left behind scared her shitless.
He had been in a towering rage as he had thrown the punch at Trisha.
If Jo’s sudden, timely appearance hadn’t startled him and thrown off his aim, it would have shattered the other woman’s jaw.
It would have likely been the first of many.
“Where the fuck did you meet that prick?” she whispered fiercely to Trisha, who was still visibly shaking.
“I-I met him in Lightbox tonight,”
The club was literally a hundred metres away from Fire, but had a completely different vibe. Jo and Ricki had once toured all the other clubs in the vicinity to see what they were missing and had unanimously decided at the end of the night that they weren’t missing a thing.
“He got pissed off-f when he realized that I wasn’t a r-real girl,” Trisha explained. “Very pissed off!”
“But didn’t you tell him straight up when you first met him?” Jo questioned.
Trisha flushed and didn’t meet Jo’s gaze before she turned her head and stared out of the closed car window.
She didn’t have to say another word. Her guilt was written in every tense inch of her body.
Jo shook her head sadly.
Trisha hadn’t changed in the years since Jo had last seen her.
Even when they were younger, Trisha had only lusted after ‘ultra-straight’ men.
She’d never embraced the ‘specialness’ of being transgender and had burst into tears if anyone had called her ‘shemale’ long before the term had become dépassé.
Jo understood the man’s fury now, though she didn’t condone it. Even in the brief skirmish she had subconsciously noted traces of the red lipstick he had been wearing.
The lipstick he had kissed off of Trisha.
A “tranny surprise” was funny, Jo supposed, in the porn world when male actors pretended to be shocked when confronted by a woman’s hard girldick inches below her luscious breasts.
In the real world it was as unfunny as a heart attack.
And just as deadly if the surprised man was a homophobic fucker like the one tonight.
Heaven knew what would have happened if she hadn’t rescued Trisha.
And heaven help both of them, if he somehow still managed to catch up with them!
Jo shivered and reached over to clasp Trisha’s hand and the woman looked up and smiled her thanks at the gesture.
She had never thought that she was born the wrong sex.
She liked men and she liked being a woman with a girldick.
She didn’t even care if they called it a ‘cock’, ‘girldick’, ‘pussy’ or ‘clit’.
For her having one was the best of both worlds.
But for Trisha it was different; she felt that God had played a cruel trick on her by giving her the wrong body parts at birth. If she wasn’t a real scaredy-cat, who grew queasy at the mere thought of the operation, Jo suspected Trisha would have had her girldick and balls hacked off as soon as she’d come of age.
***
Minutes later, both Jo and Trisha shivered as they alighted at Liverpool Station.
The cab driver was clearly unfamiliar with the east end of London and had been using landmarks to orient himself. It would have taken them twice as long to get to their destination as it would have if he’d had a better knowledge of the capital’s streets.
Jo had decided to change vehicles rather than offend him by instructing him on which route to take.
As exhausted and as desperate to get home as she was, she’d realized that they hadn’t done quite enough to cover their tracks. If the man pursuing her and Trisha had put two and two together, he might have gone to the cab office to make enquiries. He might have also charmed the sleepy-looking woman in the office into telling him that they had ordered a cab to Wanstead Station, which was three corners away from Jo’s flat.
If he’d then jumped into a cab with a driver who knew the backstreets of London as Jo did, he could have been there waiting for her and Trisha when they arrived.
They watched the cab driver accelerate away when the traffic lights changed. He had been a little put out when Jo had shortened the journey in the middle of the ride, but she’d thrown financial caution to the wind and tipped him handsomely.
Hurrying to the first in the long line of taxis, Jo gave the driver her address and tugged Trisha inside when he unlocked the back doors.
Travelling by black taxi cost a ton, but Jo had to admire the driver, who looked no older than mid-twenties, as he took the quickest route to her flat, without using a street finder or sat nav.
It was the exact route that she would have taken herself.
She’d partied all over London in the wild days of her youth and had always been the one who’d stayed sober and drove her other friends home.
She knew the streets of the capital like the back of her hand and always joked that if she was ever desperate for work, she would take The Knowledge, the legendarily-difficult test that London taxi drivers have to pass and become one herself.
Her taxi would have been pink of course, not black.
She said a silent ‘thank you’ to Ricki as she paid the driver and then took Trisha’s arm as he released the car door locks.
Ricki’s gift had completely changed Jo’s life.
Strangely, she had become more frugal than she’d ever been and now saved more than a quarter of her monthly salary.
The extra money she’d spent on transportation tonight was her first extravagance in a long time.
It was justified, she reasoned, as she and Trisha hurriedly climbed the stairs to her flat.
She’d caught the man unawares, but she doubted that she would be a match for his strength, if he had martial arts training, too.
Tonight hadn’t been one for penny pinching.
It had been a close thing and she felt unnerved.
She wouldn’t be comfortable until she was indoors with a stiff brandy in her hand.
***
An hour later, as they sat in her living room, Jo watched Trisha over the rim of the tulip glass as she sipped a double shot of Hennessey.
Trisha had opted for a glass of Prosecco instead, but it was clear that she was still hyped, despite the shower they’d taken together.
“You owe me at least a blowjob for the trouble you caused me tonight,” Jo told her, trying to lighten her friend’s mood.
“Okay.” Trisha smiled and placed her glass on the nearby table.
Jo had been half joking.
She’d forgotten how docile the other woman could be.
But she wasn’t about to say ‘no’ to getting her rocks off.
She put down her glass too as Trisha came to kneel between her legs and watched as the other woman delicately untied the sash of her bathrobe.
“Take yours off, too,” Jo instructed. “I want you to play with yourself while you’re giving me head.”
Jo was careful to use ‘yourself’ instead of ‘girldick’. Trisha had always avoided handling her sex parts as much as possible. She looked about to protest, but Jo shook her head firmly and said, “I insist.”
Jo had felt the slenderness of the woman’s body in the shower, but as Trisha dropped the bathrobe it was all she could do to keep from gasping.
Trisha had lost a lot of weight since she’d last seen her.
It wasn’t unattractive–many men might think her even sexier than before–but she was clearly underweight.
Biting back words of shock and concern, Jo smiled instead and ordered, “Get on with it!”
There would be time for a discussion in the morning after they’d both had a good sleep.
Looking relieved that Jo hadn’t commented on her near skeletal appearance, Trisha took Jo’s girldick between baby-soft hands and lowered her head to it.
“I said that I wanted you to play with yourself, too,” Jo reminded her.
As Trisha obediently reached down with her left hand and took her own girldick in hand, her hair fell across her face.
Jo brushed it back and over Trisha’s shoulder, letting it fall in a shining near black curtain. She was of African, English and Malaysian descent and looked even more ‘exotic’ than Jo. Her hair alone was enough to drive men wild, but she had a beauty that matched her hair.
“Yess!” Jo hissed as Trisha teased the head of her girldick with the barbell in her tongue. “You haven’t lost one bit of your technique.”
Trisha gave a smothered giggle but didn’t stop to acknowledge the compliment.
Jo picked up her glass, downed the amber liquid and rested her head back against the sofa.
If she wanted to come, she had to focus on the sensations that Trisha’s expert hand, tongue and lips were creating.
Otherwise, she would shake the woman and demand the reason why she hadn’t been taking care of herself properly and why the hell she’d put her life in danger tonight.
“Yes, just like that,” she gasped, as the woman circled the head of her girldick with a wicked swipe of her tongue.
Remnants of the adrenaline that had coursed through Jo’s body earlier still lingered and Jo felt a desperate urge to release it.
“Play with your pussy, baby.” Jo lifted her head and watched Trisha’s body convulse at her words. “I want you to come with me.”
Trisha’s movements became suddenly more urgent and intentional, and Jo felt herself teetering on orgasm.
Within minutes she and Trisha came almost together.
***
Even though she was exhausted, Jo found herself wide awake at she lay in bed with Trisha curled into her body.
It had been almost two years since she’d last seen the woman.
Trisha had been doing well at that time.
Something had clearly changed.
Jo had never met another transgender woman who seemed to hate her genitalia more than Trisha.
She’d even joked that she wouldn’t mind having another girldick, if Trisha didn’t want hers. Trisha had replied that she would gladly give hers to Jo, if she could.
She hadn’t been joking.
Jo knew that some transgender women needed gender reassignment surgery before they felt complete.
Trisha might be one of them, but her expectations were so too high and Jo knew that she would be disappointed at the outcome.
The last time they’d met, Trisha had started therapy and had seemed more accepting of her body.
Jo pondered for several minutes what could have occurred in the intervening period.
The crazy scenarios she conjured up soon created an ache behind her eyes.
Closing them, Jo willed herself to sleep.
***
It felt like déjà vu as Jo rustled up an English breakfast the next morning, with Trisha sitting up on the kitchen worktop where Ricki had perched on her last visit.
Except that Ricki’s mouth had been going at nine miles per hour; Trisha had barely spoken a word since she’d had awoken.
“So, how is the dishy psychotherapist?” she asked with a laugh.
It was the one topic that usually brought a smile to Trisha’s face.
Not this time.
The woman’s face crumbled and she swallowed audibly before she admitted, “I’m not seeing him anymore.”
That explains everything!
“What happened?” Jo questioned gently.
“He’s taking a year’s sabbatical to look after his daughters. His wife was killed by a truck driver as she was cycling to work last November.”
“Oh my God!” Unless he’d married an older woman, she wouldn’t have been more than early thirties. “How did you find out?”
“Someone from the practice called me to tell me that he would be unavailable for the next year and asked if I wanted to see his replacement. I told them ‘no’. Then I remembered reading about a female doctor with the same surname killed in King’s Cross. When I reread the article, I realized that she was his wife. For some strange reason they didn’t mention his name, but he’d told me that they had twin girls and the article mentioned that she was a married mother of twins.”
“Oh my God,” Jo said softly again, not knowing what else to say.
“I feel terrible because I wonder all the time if it happened because I wanted him so much.”
“Trisha, you can’t blame yourself for her death!”
“Nothing ever happened between us, but Jo, sometimes it felt like he wanted me, too.”
He’s supposed to be a bloody psychiatrist!
“Really?” Jo was so shocked, she couldn’t close her mouth.
“Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe he was just doing his job, but Jo, he made me feel that I was perfect just the way I am for the first time in my life.”
“Maybe you should find a way to bump into him and see how he really feels.”
“How? I don’t know where he lives and the practice would never give out that kind of information.”
“Girlfriend, you know that I have ways and means of finding out these things. I wasn’t nicknamed Lisbeth Salander for nothing.”
“I forgot!”
“Right!” Jo blonked down a loaded plate in front of Trisha. “Get this down your neck. You’re skin and bones and I’m sure that your sexy psychiatrist liked your curves better. When we’re done, I’m going to boot up my computer and we’re going to do a bit of hacking.”
“I’m suddenly starving!” Trisha’s wide smile as she picked up the knife and fork and attacked the food was the first genuine one Jo had seen since she’d rescued the woman.
***
The next day, Jo sat in her car and watched as Trisha started striding briskly towards James Taylor as he exited the school gates.
Ten minutes ago, she and Trisha had sat in the car outside his address and watched him leave his house with his daughters, their small hands clasped firmly in his as they started the short walk to the nearby kindergarten.
Jo smiled as she watched James’s eyes lock in on Trisha. She was wearing a full-length black Marks and Spencer faux leather coat, opened in front to reveal the aqua shift dress underneath that masked the slenderness of her body.
Trisha had an enviable shoe collection and had wanted to pair the ensemble with her black Louboutin Kate 554 100 pumps, but Jo had advised her to don the Kate 85 instead. The added 15mm of heel length would have been great on a hot date, but might have made Trisha’s excuse of being in the area on business slightly less believable.
But even in the smaller heels, Trisha’s sexy walk had caught James’s attention.
What are you doing?
Jo gasped as Trisha walked past the man without saying a word.
But then, he turned around and must have called out her name.
Although, the man wouldn’t have heard Jo’s giggle from across the road, she clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle it as she watched Trisha act as though she was completely surprised to ‘accidentally’ bump into the man.
They spoke for a while before Trisha looked down at her watch and must have told him that she would be late for her appointment, if she didn’t hurry.
Jo smiled as the man hugged her friend briefly and let her go with clear reluctance.
Trisha continued up the road and turned at the first corner and out of his sight.
Jo started her car and went after her.
When she stopped alongside her friend, Trisha jumped into the car and let out a loud screech.
“Tell me!” Jo demanded, when Trisha started to flutter with excitement.
“He said that he’d been thinking about me a lot, but he couldn’t call me because it wouldn’t have been ethical, even though he’s decided to give up his job and become a university lecturer instead.”
“And?” Jo demanded, when a broad smile broke out across Trisha’s face and she didn’t immediately continue.
“He’s invited me to dinner tonight. He usually puts the girls to bed at seven and they sleep through the night.”
“Girlfriend!” Jo raised her hand for a high five. “That man wants you, baby!”
Trisha laughed gaily and held her hands to her cheeks as if they had suddenly become too hot and needed cooling.
“Thank you so much, Jo.”
“You’re welcome. Although, I should slap you upside the head for walking straight past the man.”
“I was planning to turn around and call after him, if he hadn’t called me,” Trisha explained. “You know the way you walk past someone and then realize that you know them a minute later?”
“Okay.” Jo grinned. “You had me shitting bricks because I thought that you had chickened out.”
Suddenly, Trisha sobered. “Oh God, Jo, is this real?”
“It’s real, baby,” Jo confirmed and then she said sternly, “And promise me, if that man tells you that he loves you just the way you are, believe him.”
“I promise.”
***
That night Jo lay in bed thinking up ways to pass the unexpected free time she had on her hands.
Her employer Ebonée Clark had suddenly decided on a month-long trip to Jumby Bay, Antigua, and had left the UK last Friday.
The first time the talented singer-songwriter had visited the retreat several months ago, she’d penned the two songs that had become the most successful of the seven on her album. With the record company breathing down her neck, wanting to capitalize on her current popularity, Ebonée had decided to go back to the retreat and spend twice as long as her last trip in order to compose most, if not all, of the songs for her next album.
Jo had planned to party as hard as she’d done in her youth, since she didn’t have to worry about getting up for work, but after the night at Fire, she couldn’t face going to another club on her own.
Not without Ricki.
Jo chuckled as she thought of her friend living her best life as the happy wife of a farmer in Barbados. They hadn’t made it official–same sex marriage weren’t yet legal in the country–but Ian treated Ricki as his wife in every possible way.
Although the article had never appeared in the magazine and Norman was still ignorant of the fact that Ricki had been the one to leak it, Jo’s friend had no plans of returning to the UK any time soon.
On the remote farm in Barbados, she was able to hide from the outside world but still live in luxury.
But she insisted that she missed her best girlfriend and repeatedly begged Jo to come for a visit.
And more and more Jo was convinced that it would be perfectly safe for her to visit Ricki and her hunk on his farm.
She’d resisted, knowing that she couldn’t take some willing partner along with her, and not wanting to be a third wheel to Ricki and Ian.
But–
Her mobile phone vibrated as a text message came through.
It was from Trisha.
Jo, OMG! We just made love and it was the sweetest thing ever! Got to go, he’s waiting for me in bed. xXXx
Jo laughed as she quickly sent a reply.
Fucking on a first date, Trisha? You dirty girl!
As she put the mobile back to sleep again, a wave of loneliness suddenly swamped Jo.
It seemed like only yesterday that she and her friends were all single, carefree girls–well, except for Ricki who had fallen into Norman’s evil clutches–but one by one they had become paired up, leaving Jo.
She had been too busy touring the country and the rest of the world with Ebonée to notice that she’d become the cheese that stands alone.
She could do what she usually did when she was horny and at a loose end: go to The Pink Panther, her friend Emmanuel’s bar, and pull a guy to fuck or be fuck by.
But she was tired of the same old, same old.
She wanted some excitement.
Not the kind she’d had with Trisha’s muscle-bound attacker early on Sunday morning.
Some real, gut-clenching, toe-curling excitement.
Suddenly she smiled.
She had to be able to find some in Barbados.
The beach there was full of hard-bodied men, wearing very little.
Even if she couldn’t touch, she could feast her eyes.
***
Brimming with excitement at the thought of seeing Ricki again, Jo barely slept in the two days following her decision to fly out to see her friend.
She arrived at Gatwick Airport a whole two hours before the official check-in time.
Luckily, the British Airways desk was open.
Tiredness hit her once she’d taken a seat in the departure lounge to await the announcement of the gate number from which the flight would depart.
Placing the backpack she was using as her carry-on luggage on the empty seat next to her, she used it as a pillow and closed her eyes, hoping to grab some shut-eye.
Instead her mind drifted to Trisha and her newfound love.
They’d had a long talk the previous night while James had been reading his daughters a bedtime story.
Things were going really well between Jo’s friend and her former psychiatrist.
His five-year-old daughters sounded simply adorable.
Trisha hadn’t officially moved in, but she’d taken the week off work and had practically spent every minute with James, talking and fucking, she’d told Jo with a wicked giggle.
Jo was keeping everything crossed for her friend.
She deserved more happiness than anyone Jo knew.
Trisha had been sexually and emotionally abused by her stepfather well before she’d hit puberty. Her alcoholic mother had been too drunk to notice although the abuse had continued until Trisha had finally left the hellhole of a house at the age of nineteen to go to university.
Jo had met her at The Pink Panther and they had become instant friends.
She’d soon discovered that Trisha needed to be loved by everyone she met. Often Jo had had to step in and prevent the young woman from going off with a regular she knew to be a bastard.
Then three years ago Trisha had started seeing a much older man who was already married to another man. He’d treated her well–the first man to ever do so, she’d told Jo–and she’d been content to sit and wait around in the flat he’d rented for her, a ten-minute walk from his own house, on the off chance he could sneak away and spend a little morsel of time with Trisha whenever he could.
Trisha had lived for those moments, not wanting to leave the house when she got in from work, just in case the man decided to come around.
Jo had warned her that it would end badly and after a while had given up trying to persuade Trisha to come out on nights out.
Trisha had been so wrapped up in her older lover, she’d stop making contact with Jo and any of her friends.
Then Jo had heard through the grapevine that the man’s partner had followed him when he’d left their house for one of his ‘evening strolls’ and they had been an almighty bust-up.
Trisha’s bastard lover had not only dropped her, he’d stopped paying the rent for the swish apartment.
Trisha had moved out by the time Jo had heard of the fracas, and probably ashamed that the affair had ended just as Jo had predicted, she hadn’t informed Jo of her new address.
Jo had resorted to her hacking skills to find it and had hurried around, fearing the worst.
Instead of being distraught and suicidal as she had a tendency to be, Jo had found Trisha looking strangely content and happier than she’d ever seen her. Trisha had finally decided to start therapy, as many of her friends had urged her to do and it had made a marked difference to her outlook on life.
She’d described the therapist as young and dishy and someone she could tell her deepest secrets.
Jo had been slightly uneasy when she’d realized that Trisha was more than a little fixated on the man, but hadn’t said anything for fear of upsetting her.
And if the man was as wonderful as he sounded, Jo had reckoned, he wouldn’t cross the boundary between him and Trisha.
She had been wrong about that.
But sometimes being wrong can be right.
***
Jo had had her share of older lovers over the years, but she hadn’t been tempted to settle down with any of them, despite some generous offers.
Her friends called her morbid for saying that she didn’t want to settle down with an older man, only to have him die on her.
That was only part of the problem.
Jo wanted a great romance, like the one her parents had, and wanted to live a long and happy life with the partner she eventually chose.
She had been luckier than most of her friends in her sexual partners, perhaps because men sensed that she would give as good as she got if they decided to get rough with her.
Many of her friends had seemed drawn to older men and Jo often wondered if it was the fact that most of them, like she’d done, had had their first sexual encounter with an older, often married man. Some of them had had no say in the matter.
Jo’s with her father’s boss, Alexander Bishop, had started just after her sixteenth birthday.
Though he’d worked with her father, she hadn’t met him until her coming-of-age party which he had attended with his wife and two sons, one Jo’s age and the other a year younger.
She had been too busy playing games with them and the other children who had attended her party to notice Alexander.
He had noticed her, though.
On the weekend including the Early May Bank Holiday a few weeks later, he’d taken her and his two sons camping.
On the way to the forest the man had let her sit in the front passenger seat, much to the annoyance of his two sons. As soon as they had both nodded off in the back of the Ranger Rover, the man had reached across and stroked Jo’s cheek and told her how special she was.
That night he had strategically placed Jo on his right side and his sons on his left.
She had been about to drop off when he had reached over and stroked her arm repeatedly. He’d kept the caresses soft and almost fatherly, but they had sparked a strange quivering inside Jo.
Then, he had abruptly turned his back and seemingly fallen asleep, leaving Jo feeling like she was standing at the edge of a cliff without a safety rope or harness.
On the way back, the younger of the man’s sons had taken the front seat and the man had behaved so normally that Jo had wondered if she had dreamt the whole thing or misconstrued the man’s intentions.
But outside her parents’ gate the man had ruffled Jo’s hair as he’d handed her the backpack he’d retrieved from the boot and said casually, “If you need a good man-to-man talk while your father’s away, come and see me in my office tomorrow.”
Jo’s father had been out of town attending a week-long management conference in his boss’s stead. Later she had found out that the man had deliberately orchestrated events to his advantage, pulling out the conference at the last minute stating that he had forgotten that he had booked a trip to the Sherwood Pines Campsite with his sons. He’d then insisted that Jo come along with them since her father wouldn’t be there to spend the holiday with her.
Her parents had been thrilled at the prospect of Jo and Alexander’s sons becoming close friends. Up until that point she’d been a total homebody and they’d wanted her to be a little more outgoing.
Though she’d had no prior experience, Jo had understood exactly what Alexander meant by a ‘man-to-man’ talk.
After school the next day, she’d gone straight to his office and had left hours later with a full appreciation of just how special she was.
It very nearly hadn’t happened, though.
Just as she’d been about to slip through the front door of the building, the man’s secretary had driven around from the car park.
Jo had quickly averted her face, but when she’d told Alexander that she’d just seen his secretary leave, he had become quite agitated.
He’d said that he’d given her permission to leave an hour before her usual five o’clock finish, but she’d faffed around for almost half an hour before finally leaving.
For a few minutes Alexander had paced the office pulling at his hair before Jo realized that he was concerned that the woman had seen her.
If the woman had, it wouldn’t have been difficult for her to put her boss’s urging her to leave early and Jo going to the office while her father was absent together and come up with the right conclusion.
But the woman hadn’t seen Jo.
She’d quickly assured Alexander that even if the woman had seen a boy in uniform entering the building, she wouldn’t have known that it was Jo, because she’d averted her face.
His mood had swiftly undergone a metamorphosis from nervously pacing to expertly ardent.
Jo had returned for ‘man-to-man’ talks for the rest of the week, and would have kept going, if her father hadn’t returned from his conference.
Hooked on Jo’s tender charms and frustrated that he couldn’t satisfy his craving, Alexander had called Jo on her mobile phone constantly over the next week, trying to arrange secret trysts, each reckless and ill conceived.
Though eager for his special treatment, Jo had been aware of the risk involved. The last thing she’d wanted was to rouse her parents’ ire by playing truant or being caught with him in a compromising position.
Finally after weeks of concocting totally impractical schemes, the man had come up with the idea of renting a good’s delivery van and parking in the quiet mews behind Jo’s school.
She’d sneaked out to meet him during her lunch break and it was a minor miracle that no one had passed too closely to the van and heard the man’s loud moans of appreciation during the fifty minutes Jo spent with him rather than in the canteen having her lunch that day.
Afterwards, a broad smile splitting his slightly podgy face, Alexander had told her that they would meet in the same location as often as possible.
Jo hadn’t even missed not eating lunch; her biggest problem had been focussing on her classes that afternoon.
But just two days later, Jo’s father had come home with exciting news.
One of the company’s executives had decided to retire early due to ill health and they wanted to offer him the position, which included a substantial pay increase and relocation to the company’s headquarters in London.
Ironically, it was Alexander’s scheming that had given her father the opportunity to impress the company’s CEO at the management conference.
Loathe to relinquish Jo, Alexander had offered to let her stay with him and his family until the end of the school year, so as not to interrupt her education.
Jo’s father had firmly refused, but the man’s imprudent offer must have started alarm bells ringing in his head.
That night he had asked Jo some seemingly innocent questions about the camping trip.
Luckily she’d been able to answer them truthfully.
Yes, they had all shared the same tent.
And no, there hadn’t been a time during the trip that she’d been alone with Mr Bishop.
Seeming relieved that the camping trip had been above board, her father hadn’t questioned Jo further.
She had been relieved not to have to lie outright to him, especially since he’d always been the coolest of fathers.
The downside to moving to the capital was that they had moved to a smaller house, since the average price per square foot was almost twice as high as in Birmingham.
Her parents had spent the next days frantically packing the things they were taking with them and organising a jumble sale for the rest.
It had been the half-term holiday at the time and with school out, Jo couldn’t sneak out to meet her Lothario at lunchtime.
In desperation, and with her father out of the office organising the hundred-and-one things left to be done, Alexander had arranged for Jo to come to the office at lunchtime two days before their departure on the pretext of giving her a letter of recommendation, to present to a potential employer should she decide to get her first part-time job when she got to the capital.
The man had literally sobbed as he’d demonstrated her specialness, twice in quick succession. Only the shortness of time and the real possibility of being discovered by his secretary returning from her lunch break had prevented a third attempt.
As it was they had barely put themselves to rights before they’d heard her moving around in the outer office.
Jo, a born actress, had opened the office door and sailed through it clutching the letter of recommendation Alexander had had the woman compose and print before going to lunch.
Jo had stopped and thanked her politely.
The old dear had gotten all misty eyed, saying that she would miss Jo’s father who was such a sweet man. The woman had showed no sign of suspicion despite Jo’s keener sense of smell detecting the distinctive odour that Alexander hadn’t been able to completely mask with a hurried spray of air freshener.
That had been the end of Jo’s and the man’s secret relationship.
He’d kept calling her wanting to come to London to hook up with her, but Jo had thought it too risky and declined.
Three months later Alexander had made television and newspaper headlines by travelling to Thailand for a two-week trip with a fifteen-year-old runaway.
The boy had looked nothing like the man’s younger son, yet Alexander had managed to use the boy’s passport to sneak his young lover past customs officials both in the UK and Thailand on the outbound trip.
They had avoided detection in Thailand as they’d boarded the return flight, but an eagle-eyed immigration officer at Heathrow Airport had first spotted the dissimilarity between the boy’s features and his passport photo and then questioned why he’d been taken out of school during the term.
An image of Alexander in handcuffs had been flashed across the television screen in the early evening news and as her parents had discussed the event over dinner, Jo’s father had suddenly turned and looked at her sharply.
Jo had been caught unawares and had blushed under his eagled-eye scrutiny.
Her father had very deliberately placed his knife and fork down besides his half-eaten plate of food and had sipped his wine for the rest of the meal.
Her mother had kept asking him if anything was wrong, but he’d assured her that everything was fine.
He had never mentioned the man’s name again, but Jo knew that he knew she had lied to him.
Unfortunately for Alexander Bishop, the runaway had turned out to be the child of a wealthy, well connected family and he’d received a harsher punishment than he would have if the boy had been a nobody: a total of 7 years in prison for facilitating the illegal use of a passport, unlawful kidnap of a minor and sexual assault.
He died in prison of a massive heart attack at the age of fifty-six, mid way into his sentence.
Looking back, Jo found it hard to define her feelings for him. She’d been over the age of consent, but in some ways he’d taken advantage of her youth and naivety.
Worst than that, she could never recall that period in her life without the guilt of lying to her father.
When she’d finally admitted to her parents that she was gay a day after her eighteenth birthday, they had looked at her as though expecting something further to be revealed.
Then her father had explained that they had known for years and told her that she didn’t have to give up marriage, happiness and a family.
With their keen interest in art, her parents had always seemed oddball and unconventional compared to other parents she knew.
Jo had still been surprised that they hadn’t shown the slightest sign of disappointment in her that day, or since.
She knew that she was incredibly lucky in having them for parents.
Her only regret was not giving them grandchildren.
Three years ago, after they’d taken her for dinner at The Ritz to celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday, they had admitted that they were both bisexual and had been members of a swingers’ club for years.
Their revelation had explained so much: why her father had always seemed the submissive one in the relationship, why when Aunt Linda, a childhood friend of her mother’s came to stay, she slept in the same bed as Jo’s parents.
And ever since their revelation, Jo had wondered if her mother strapped on and gave both her husband and her friend a good seeing-to in their threesome games. It was so wrong to think of her parents having sex, but somehow that thought always made Jo smile.
Though both born in the UK, having Jamaican ancestry and aware of the censure of homosexuality in that country and among some of their friends in Britain, Jo’s parents must have made an informed decision to come together to have a family and yet have the freedom of both enjoying other partners of the same sex.
But as happy as she was for her parents, Jo didn’t want to follow their example.
She was attracted to men, not women. Even if she met a woman like her mother, Jo didn’t think that she would be able to deny her true inclinations, just for the chance of having children.
Fingers crossed, she would meet the right man one day who would want to marry, settle down and adopt a child or two.
***
Jo woke with a start and lay for a moment with her eyes closed trying to make sense of her surroundings.
There was an unfamiliar babble of conversation around her and–
Shit the flight!
She jumped up in a panic and reached for her backpack.
“If you’re going to Barbados, they haven’t called the gate number yet.”
“Thank…” Jo’s voice trailed off as she caught sight of the man who had slid into the seat next to her some time while she’d been slumbering.
Oh my fucking God!
“I recognized the legs, but I didn’t want to wake you.” He gave Jo a dazzlingly white smile. “You seemed to need some beauty sleep. It worked. You look more gorgeous than ever.”
So do you!
Jayamma Johnson.
Six-foot-six of deliciousness.
He’d told Jo that his Nigerian mother had given him the first name when she’d finally conceived after seven years of marriage to his Scottish father.
Its meaning was ‘Praise to the lord!”
And it was what Jo was doing right now.
Say something before the man thinks you’re an imbecile!
“Hi, Jay!”
“For a moment there I thought you’d forgotten my name.” He gave her another of those deadly smiles that Jo suspected came from years of the best and most expensive dental care rather than newer whitening methods. “I was beginning to feel crushed.”
“I think you know that you’re unforgettable,” Jo replied, before her still half-asleep brain had a chance to intercept the thought and prevent it from escaping her mouth uncensored.
“So are you,” he said softly.
Jo’s legs felt suddenly too weak for her to stand on and she flopped inelegantly back onto the chair beside him, catching the side of her hip on the armrest.
The brief ache was enough to snap her out of her lustful stupor.
She remembered the woman she’d envied, hated almost, more than any other who had stood in the way of her getting closer to Jay.
“Where’s Angel?” she asked casually.
“We’re over,” he replied simply. “I woke up one night and found her sexting some guy called Brandon. She swore that they only slept together once, but the texts told me otherwise.”
“Maybe she was telling the truth.”
“Once…a hundred times, it makes no difference to me.” He shrugged his impossibly broad left shoulder as he said the words. “She knew that I expected total fidelity from her.”
As he must have given the woman, despite admitting to Jo that he would have made her his, if he was single.
They had shared a hot kiss one night in the bathroom of The Pink Panther; he had been the one to pull back after a heated minute with a look of regret in his eyes.
And although she’d never been one for entangled relationships, Jo had been ready to willingly bend over and let him take her, if he’d asked.
He hadn’t.
And she hadn’t seen him since.
He moved in more rarefied circles and had been slumming that night at a birthday party for one of Angel’s friends.
But that kiss and his hard body had been imprinted in Jo’s memory.
“So who’s the new girlfriend?” she asked.
“The position is currently vacant.” He winked. “Care to apply?”
“Why do you assume that I don’t have someone?”
He was sexy as sin, but how dare he think that she’d been sitting on the shelf waiting for him!
“I hoped rather than assumed,” he told her smoothly and flashed another smile. “If you’re free, I know it would be of your own choosing.”
The sudden anger drained out of Jo’s body as quickly as it had filled it.
“I might apply, but it would depend on the job specification,” she replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could.
He leaned closer until his lips were a breath away from her right ear.
“You would need: full, sexy lips that could stretch around a thick, 91/2″ cock; a tongue that could tease the bulbous head and a throat that could open up and swallow it and a sweet butthole that could accommodate its length and breadth with just the right degree of tightness. I must add that a smooth milk chocolate body and long legs would give you the edge over other applicants.”
Jo had to bite back a gasp of arousal at the words.
That they were spoken in his upper-class diction made them even more erotic.
“I’ll have to think about it,” she replied as he straightened and sat back on his chair. “Sometimes a job description can sound exciting, but once you start you find that it’s just another boring desk job.”
He gave a short chuckle.
“Maybe I can give you a little preview. Are you travelling First, too?”
“Premium economy.” She’d paid the extra so that she could stretch out her legs, but that was as much as she’d been willing to stretch her newly-tight budget. “I don’t have a trust fund like some people.”
He didn’t take offence at the little jab.
“I’ll get you an upgrade.”
“You don’t have to,” she protested weakly. Yes, please!
“It will be no trouble. The seats aren’t all taken, so it won’t cost me a penny.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He got to his feet, grabbed the handles of his supple leather, rather expensive-looking travel bag and reached down for Jo’s backpack before she could. Slinging it over his shoulder, he said, “Let’s go to the lounge.”
Jo’s whole inside warmed at the thought that he’d forgone taking advantage of the more luxurious waiting area because he’d been waiting for her.
***
Three hours later, Jo was tucked into a seat that was almost as comfortable as her bed at home.
Jay had switched his pre-booked window seat for one of the pair in the middle aisle; Jo had been given the other.
The update had been no trouble, as he’d predicted. He had simply walked up to the desk and told the woman that he’d discovered that his friend was on the same flight and since he knew that there were seats available, he would like her to have an upgrade.
The woman hadn’t blinked an eyelid. All she’d asked was if he would like to change seats, so that he and Jo could sit together.
Jay had told her, ‘Of course!’ politely, but in a manner that hinted it was what he’d expected to happen without being asked the question.
Jo had never flown in such luxury.
It had started even before they’d boarded with free food and drinks in the executive lounge.
She could so easily get accustomed to living like this.
Her only complaint, and it was a small one, was that even with the middle divider down, there was a substantial gap between their seats.
The downside of travelling in luxury, Jo thought with a smile.
The seats in Economy were so close together, you had to wrestle the person sitting next to you for possession of the armrests. Some selfish buggers hog the ones of either side of them, leaving the neighbouring passengers the job of supporting their arms for entire flights. And though shoulders were meant to support the weight of arms, on a cramped flight with little room to reposition your body, your arms can feel as though they weigh a ton.
But, when those armrests are raised between those closely packed seats, some very interesting things can take place.
The biggest problem was suppressing your groans which can be easily overheard by those in nearby seats.
Thankfully, the gap between Jo’s and Jay’s seats didn’t totally ruin the vibe. Once the flight was well on its way and after food that had turned out to be nothing special but served with a full bottle of exceptional champagne, they settled down under their blankets for a snooze.
“Are you ready for your preview?”
“What?” Jo gaped.
It was dark, but he couldn’t be serious.
“Give me your hand!” he commanded softly, overlapping the edges of their blankets.
Jo slipped her right hand from under hers and up under his, thankful that they had somehow chosen to sit in the right order, so that her dominant hand was closer to him.
Or perhaps, Jay had been thinking ahead.
A head.
It certainly was a bulbous one she noted as her hand reached into his already opened fly and closed around it.
He wasn’t fully erect, but he quickly pulsed into hardness as Jo stroked him.
“Is that job offer looking more tempting now?” he queried.
“A little,” she admitted.
“Let me make it a bit more exciting.”
He laid one long arm alongside Jo’s under the blankets and reached up under her dress and the thong she was wearing.
They both turned their heads and lock gazes in the dim light of the cabin.
By mutual but unspoken concurrence, they stroked each other softly and slowly.
Before getting on the plane, Jo had entertained notions of joining the Mile High Club, but had realized on boarding that it would be too risky, even impossible.
She sensed that Jay was a master of control.
For him, this was little more than foreplay.
For him.
She felt pre-cum liberally oozing from her girldick as his large hand worked it like a pro.
He stilled when she was almost on the verge of coming and she had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out.
“Bastard!” she whispered softly.
His eyes sparkled as he smiled unapologetically and moved his fingers lower.
Jo pulled her legs up, placed her feet on the edge of the seat and tilted her bottom upwards as his now-slippery fingers probed her bottom.
He slipped one long finger inside her and moved it slowly, frustratingly, back and forth.
“Ordinarily,” he whispered across the gap between their faces, “I would push several digits into such a sweet, tight asshole, but this, as I mentioned before, is only a preview. You have to accept the job and sign a contract before I reveal more to you.”
“Bastard!” she repeated softly and laughed.
He knew that she wanted at least another finger up inside her.
She also knew that he wouldn’t oblige her.
She was used to making men do her bidding.
Jay was going to be a challenge.
She should be annoyed as fuck with him right now.
Instead she was aroused to the point of pain.
She would get her own back, she vowed, when they were on terra firma and didn’t have other passengers’ sensibilities to consider.
***
Even though the sky was slightly overcast as if foreshadowing rain, the heat was intense as Jo disembarked, holding on tightly to the rails as she slowly followed Jay down the aircraft’s steps.
Once again she’d appreciated the perks of flying in a higher class.
Their bags had been retrieved from the lockers without the usual crush of bodies and bump of shoulders and they had been among the first set of passengers to exit the plane.
She had planned to change into a pair of flat, open-toed sandals for this stage of the journey, but that idea had gone out of the window.
A girl had to work her biggest assets when the occasion called for it.
Luckily, Jay was once again playing the gentleman and carrying her backpack for her.
All she needed to do was ensure that she didn’t catch one of the 4″ heels and go flying headfirst into him.
“I’m staying at the Sandy Lane Hotel, where will you be?” he asked as she made it safely down to the tarmac.
She’d been avoiding all talk of Barbados for the entire flight.
“Sorry I can’t tell you that,” she said apologetically.
“Are you meeting a lover?”
“No.”
“I’ll be here for ten days,” he informed her. “Will you be able to come to the hotel and meet me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
They made small talk as they waited to clear immigration, but Jo sensed that some of his ardour had cooled.
Damn!
She couldn’t let this man get away!
But she also had to consider Ricki’s safety.
“I’ll call you,” she promised, reaching for the handle of her suitcase when she saw a uniformed driver waiting with a placard with Jay’s name scrawled boldly across it.
“Are you sure you’re going okay for a ride,” he asked a slight frown creasing his forehead.
“Yes.”
“Okay then.”
She sensed that he knew that she didn’t want him to see who was meeting her.
Damn!
Damn!
***
Even though she’d never met him in person before, Jo recognized Ian from her video calls to Ricki as he strode to meet her when she exited the airport.
“Ricki’s in the car,” he explained as he took hold of her luggage.
“Okay.”
When she slipped into the back of the Range Rover, Jo found Ricki in a pair of oversized dark glasses, an equally large hat and an auburn wig.
She was tanned a deeper brown and looked absolutely fabulous.
Even the sexy, petulant pout of her lips
“You took your time getting here!”
Jo laughed.
It was nice to know the spark that Norman had tried to extinguish had survived.
‘Ricki the Diva’ was back in full force!
“I told the pilot that you were waiting for me,” Jo explained. “I told him to hurry, that he shouldn’t keep you waiting, but he just ignored me and refused to fly faster.”
Ricki rolled her eyes.
Ian laughed.
“Girlfriend, we’re going to have some fun in the sun!” Ricki clapped in excitement.
“Not so fast, girlfriend.” Jo raised a staying hand. “You would never guess who I met on the plane and who wants me to come meet him at the Sandy Lane Hotel?”
“Who?” Ricki demanded, looking anything but pleased. “You’re here to spend time with me!”
“And I will,” Jo promised.
“You didn’t say anything about me, did you?” Ricki asked, her expression suddenly filled with concern.
“Of course I didn’t!”
“Who did you meet then?” Ricki relaxed back against the car seat, looking once again at ease.
“Jay!”
“Jay?”
Ricki hadn’t met him–she’d been home playing the good little wifey to Norman that night–or she would have remembered.
“Jayamma, the mixed-race guy I told you that I met at Big Willy’s bar. Jo rolled her eyes when her friend’s face remained blank. “The kisser!”
“That one? Oh fuck, Jo, he sounded as hot as hell!”
“Hotter!” Jo confirmed. “His bitch of a girlfriend messed up and he’s currently as free as a bird!”
“Okay, I’m willing to share you with him…maybe one day out of every five.”
“I came to spend time with you and Ian and I will, but Jay is going back in ten days’ time. Girlfriend, I have to stake my claim so that he doesn’t think of hooking up with anyone else before I return.”
“Good thinking, girlfriend,” Ricki agreed, the mischievous look Jo knew and loved back on her face. “You have to do enough to turn him out before he gets back on that plane!”
“And you know that your girl can.”
Ricki hugged her again.
“Oh my God, Jo, you’re here in Barbados!”
“Yes, I am!”
They squealed like schoolgirls.
Ian shook his head, chuckled and kept driving.
***
Jo had secretly worried that the farm would feel like a gilded cage, despite the fact that it had looked airy and light when Ricki had given her a virtual tour as soon as she’d arrived on the island.
She’d feared that Ricki had exchanged one prison for another, although this was one of her own choosing.
Jo needn’t have been concerned.
Ricki’s iPhone screen hadn’t fully conveyed the beauty of the large, ranch-style house.
A close second to that beauty was the tranquillity.
With the ocean breezes drifting through the floor-to-ceiling windows, making the snowy curtains billow like oversized pillows, the place felt like an oasis.
Jo and Ricki hung out in the spacious living room and caught up on the gossip, including the good news about Trisha.
Then Ricki admitted that while Ian busied himself with running the farm, she had started penning romance novels as a way to pass the time, and took Jo into the sanctuary where she spent most of her day, writing, replying to fan mail and posting to her social media accounts.
It was a totally feminine room, painted pink and containing a comfortable-looking chair, a large desk with two curved monitors, several A4 yellow legal pads and a couple of black biros.
Jo soon discovered that writing wasn’t just her friend’s ‘little’ hobby.
Ricki had written seven books so far, using a female pseudonym, and although independently published, they were selling incredibly well, earning her over US$5,000 per month in royalties.
On a small shelf above the writing desks were printed copies of all Ricki’s books, although they sold primarily in digital format.
“Why didn’t you tell me about all this?” Jo demanded, taking one down and turning it over to read the blurb on the back cover.
“I didn’t want to bore you. I know that you’re not into romance novels.”
Jo had teased Ricki about reading silly romance novels and had been even more entertained when Ricki had said that one day she would write one herself.
“But these are yours!” Jo protested. “I would have read them.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Ricki retorted, but her lips were stretched in a wide grin. “They are soppy and silly and sentimental, but my fans love them.”
Jo looked around the room. It was neat, as every space Ricki inhabited was, but it had a lived-in quality. As if Ricki spent considerable time here.
“How much time do you spend a day writing?”
“Nine or ten hours, if Ian doesn’t come in and drag me outside for some food and fresh air,” Ricki admitted and had the grace to look embarrassed. “Writing is a drug and I’m totally addicted. I have thousands of people following my Instagram, FB and Twitter accounts. The review average on some of my books is almost five. It’s crazy! I can’t write the next book fast enough.”
“So you won’t miss me, if I spend the next ten days with Jay?”
“Of course I would!” Ricki pouted. “I was looking forward to spending some time with my girlfriend!”
“I’ll come back, if I can. But, girlfriend, I can’t let this man slip through my fingers.”
“I understand,” Ricki replied, and gave a small sigh of defeat.
Ricki really did understand.
Jo had bent her friend’s ear for weeks after that memorable kiss with Jay, lamenting over the fact that she’d found the man of her dreams only for him to be already taken.
“Go, get your man, girlfriend!” Ricki said and gave Jo a playful push towards the door. “I’ll stay here all by myself and cry as I write.”
“If you’re good, I’ll tell you all about it when I return,” Jo promised.
“Every last detail!” Ricki insisted.
“Once you don’t put it in your next novel.”
“I write romance, not erotica, darling!”
Jo laughed as she hurried to the bedroom Ricki had settled her into mere hours ago and stuffed as much as she could into her backpack.
If Jay turned out to be awful in bed, she could make a cleaner getaway, if she didn’t have a suitcase to lug behind her.
And if he turned out to be as good as the preview suggested, she wouldn’t need many clothes.
That kiss they’d shared had been hands down the hottest she’d shared with any man, but if he turned out to be a crap lover, she would spend tonight with him and run back to Ricki and Ian in the morning.
And never see Mr Sexy Wonderful again!
She’d been disappointed in men before, but it would hurt like hell if she had to add Jay to the list of losers.
She’d dreamt about him more than once and had jerked off numerous times with the memory of his handsome face in her mind’s eye.
“I don’t want to get in the way of arriving guests,” Ian explained forty-five minutes later when he stopped the Range Rover several yards away from Sandy Lane’s grand entrance.
Jo knew that he was probably more concerned about Ricki not being seen than inconveniencing the guests, but she didn’t mind.
“Good luck!” Ricki gave Jo a tight hug as she made to exit the vehicle.
“Thanks!” Jo smoothed her hand nervously over her sleeveless, red floral-print sundress. “I need all the luck I can get.”
No relationship with a man had ever felt more important to her.
She couldn’t fuck this up.
“Is that him?” Ricki whispered, her voice full of quiet awe.
Jo turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered form standing under the arch of the doorway.
Even from this distance Jay’s physique was jaw dropping.
She’d called to tell him that she was on her way but hadn’t expected him to be outside waiting for her.
Shit!
“Yes,” Jo confirmed and opened the car door quickly, hoping that Ian would stay in the vehicle.
No such luck.
He was there to grab her backpack, as she turned to get it herself. He hooked it over his right shoulder and the look in his eyes told her that he was coming to get a closer look at this man she barely knew but was about to fuck.
Unless she wanted to wrestle him for the backpack, and she almost laughed as she imagined the scene in her mind’s eye, she had no choice to accept his gallantry.
Being treated as a woman occasionally had its drawbacks.
“He’s a hunk, Jo!”
“He is,” Jo agreed, giving her friend one last hug and stepping back so that Ian could close the car door.
If she hadn’t been trying to stay incognito, Jo knew that her friend would have insisted on being introduced, just so that she could get a closer look.
It would have looked fishy if Ian had dropped her off and taken off in a plume of exhaust fumes, but Jo knew when she introduced the two men, they would be some suspicion on both sides.
“Ricki looks wonderful,” she told Ian as they started walking the short distance towards Jay.
She hadn’t yet thanked him for taking such great care of her friend.
Ricki had never looked better.
“I’m just glad I got the chance to correct the biggest mistake of my life.”
“At least you realized it before it was too late. Some men never do and live a big fat lie their whole lives.”
“If I’d stayed in the UK, I might have been one of them,” he admitted with a smile. “Something about this island and being closer to nature forced me to admit what I really wanted in life.” He turned his head and looked at Jo. “Call me when you’re ready to return, no matter what time. And don’t worry about Ricki. When she starts writing, she gets lost in the words. If I don’t drag her away from her desk some days, she wouldn’t eat.”
“She always said that she would write a romance novel one day, but I never knew she was serious.”
Jo felt a tiny bit regretful that she hadn’t been more supportive. Her only consolation was the fact that Ricki had told her earlier that loving Ian and being loved by him helped her to create her stories. So, even with the endless time she’d had on her hands, Ricki wouldn’t have been able to write, stuck in the penthouse with that bastard Norman.
“I didn’t either, but she’s very talented,” Ian replied.
The pride in his voice warmed Jo’s heart. She was so glad that he didn’t feel the need to compete with Ricki’s writing. It was the perfect diversion for her friend and from the sound of it, the adoration of her fans was a nice added bonus.
***
Minutes later, Jo felt Jay’s tension as they exited the lift and walked towards his room.
The introduction had been as awkward as she’d anticipated, but both men had donned their best British reserve and thankfully there had been no fisticuffs.
As the door close behind them, Jo didn’t have time to admire the huge Orchid Room or walk to its large balcony and look out, as she’d immediately felt drawn to do. Jay tossed the backpack onto the bed and took her by the upper arms, firmly but without hurting her.
Startled she looked into amber eyes that were staring hard into hers.
“Tell me that you’re not involved with anything illegal,” he demanded.
“I’m not.”
She didn’t look away.
“My parents aren’t thrilled about my lifestyle, but they accept it.” Jay didn’t blink. “My father’s political career would be shreds, if I got involved in a scandal. I can’t be with you, if you’re mixed up in something shady.”
“Jay, I promise that I’m not doing anything illegal or shady. I have a friend who is hiding out here on the island for her own safety. That is as much as I can say…perhaps even that was too much. Maybe one day I will tell you the story with her permission, but right now you have to trust me.”
Though he’d kissed her when he’d professed to be in a committed relationship, Jo still thought him one of the most honourable men she’d encountered. Their chemistry had been red hot that night–the embers had burned too brightly for him not to have been singed by it–but he’d reigned in his desire. And had left her feeling for days like a kettle that had been turned off and left on the stove to cool down just as it was about to boil.
“Okay.”
The smile started in his eyes, making them twinkle like the fossilized tree resin they closely resembled.
It reached his lips before he parted them and covered hers.
Strangely, though they had teased and fondled each other and done everything but made each other come, they hadn’t kissed once on the flight.
It was as if they’d both known that that would have driven them to the point of no return.
As Jo wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back fiercely, she knew, as she known that night in the bathroom at The Pink Panther, that this man had the power to break her heart into a million tiny little pieces.
Grabbing her hips in his hands, he lifted her and pressed her back against the door. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, he ripped the front of her cotton dress and exposed her breasts.
“Beautiful.” He took a moment to admire her pea-sized dark nipples that were already standing firmly erect from the gently swollen mounds.
Some men thought that they were too small; his eyes told Jo that they were the perfect size.
Then he dipped his head and pulled her entire left breast into his mouth and sucked hard.
“Fuck!”
Jo wriggled her hips against him as he continued to torture her breast and nipple, in a way that always sent her mad with desire.
And just when she thought that she would go insane, he switched to the other side and the torture began again.
“Oh baby.” Jo cradled the back of his head, flattening his short curls with her fingers as she pressed his face into her breast.
When he ripped the rest of her dress to the hem, she shrugged it off, releasing one hand at a time as he ran his hands all over her body, almost growling as he caressed the smooth firmness.
Reaching down, she unzipped his fly and freed his cock, and it leapt into her hand like a wild beast that had been freed from a cage.
She couldn’t wait to get her lips around it.
But Jay had other plans.
Moving backwards to the bed, he reached into the drawer of the bedside table for a large tube of lube.
“I have been dying to fuck your tight ass.”
“And I have been dying for you to fuck it.”
He placed her facedown on the bed, her knees on the edge.
Turning her head, she watched as he applied the lube liberally to two fingers, circle her anus with them before pressing them deep.
“We’re going to need plenty, baby.” He groaned as he picked up the still opened tube and squeezed another generous portion onto his fingers as he withdrew them.
Reaching backwards with her hand, she enclosed his cock and stroked its hardness.
It was big.
And so hard.
And so bulbous.
Almost as big as her Big Willy III.
“Get it nice and wet,” he said, picking up the lube once more and squeezing a good dollop over himself and her stroking hand.
Then he slid his fingers out of her, wrapped his hand around hers and aimed the head of his cock at her slick entrance.
“Aaah,” she hissed as they both pressed it inwards.
But greedily, she exerted more force than he.
She couldn’t wait to have it inside her to the balls.
“Easy,” he cautioned, gently removing her hand as she tried to press even harder. “It’s going to be a long night and I don’t want you too sore to enjoy every minute of it. Let’s take this first time nice and slow.”
Obediently, she grasped the sheet on either side of her head, circled her hips and backed slowly onto him as he advanced in tiny increments.
“Aaaaah!” The moan escaped her lips as the head finally slipped past her anal ring. “Ooooh! So good!”
“Yes?” he asked, and executed a teasing motion as if to withdraw from her body.
“Yesss!” she replied through clenched teeth and tightened around his crown. “Don’t tease me!”
“Okay, baby.” Reaching under her body, he tugged on her nipples firmly as he increased the pace of his thrusts.
Jo lost it, rotating her hips like she was moving to an upbeat reggae song and within moments, Jay was sunk to the hilt.
He stoked in and out for a minute or two before carefully turning her over, hooking his arms under her knees and lifting her bodily.
She wrapped her legs around his upper arms and kissed him hungrily as he cupped her bottom and moved her slowly up and down his standing shaft.
Much too soon, Jo felt herself reach the point of no return.
Holding Jay more tightly she threw her head back and rode him harder.
She felt the sudden tension in his body, and increased her pace mindlessly.
With a loud groan, he flooded her back passage, just as her girldick jerked between them.
After a quick shower, she could have secretly wept when she discovered that he wasn’t one of those macho men who wouldn’t suck his woman’s girldick, when he positioned them on the bed for a more leisurely 69.
And later as she was bent over, holding onto the edge of the face basin in the huge bathroom as he took her from behind, he whispered, “Look how beautiful we look together, baby.”
She turned her head and saw them reflected in the glass door.
They looked amazing, she agreed.
On tip toes, her long legs looked even longer and slimmer compared to his muscular thighs.
His thick cock looked like a plug as it drove smoothly in and out her plump cheeks as it pummelled her asshole relentlessly.
She would have been totally destroyed tomorrow if not for the tricks Emmanuel had taught her and Ricki.
It hadn’t been done purely out of altruism–Emmanuel had had a perchance for tight young things and he’d wanted them to remain tight–but Jo and Ricki would be forever grateful to the man. He’d taken great pleasure in filling their youthful buttholes with his truncheon, but he’d taught them about hygiene and how to control and tone their sphincter muscles, and give maximum pleasure to any man lucky enough to slip his cock inside them. He’d said that too many transgender and gay men didn’t take enough care of their ‘honey holes’ as he’d called them.
Emmanuel.
Every time in the past when Jo had made love to a man, his name had hovered in the periphery of her mind, comparing the man to him, wishing the man was him.
For the first time ever, the man with her and in her occupied her whole being: mind, body, spirit and heart.
She gasped.
Oh my fucking God!
I’m in love!
Jo loosened her grip on the basin as Jay pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” He kissed her nape and stroked her erect nipples, making her purr like a kitten.
“And you’re so big and hard.” She gripped the firm lobes of his butt and pressed him deeper. “Fuck me, baby. This tight ass is all yours.”
“Your wish is my command, my queen.”
Like an obedient subject responding to a royal decree, he bent his knees, bringing her off her toes to flat on her feet and more able to brace herself, he started to slam into her with solid bangs to his hips.
***
Nine days later, Jo pressed her head into his chest and tried to hold back her tears.
“Are you sure that you don’t want to come back with me now?” he asked her again as he lifted her chin and kissed her softly one last time.
He was due to go through to immigration in a minute.
“I would love to, but I must spend some time with my friends.”
“Okay.” He kissed her again. “Remember, don’t change your seat! I don’t want some other guy touching my woman.”
He’d upgraded her return flight to first class and insisted on a window seat for her.
“Your woman?” she questioned with a laugh.
“Yes, my woman.” He kissed her. “I’ll pick you up at the airport.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to miss you.”
“Me, too,” she admitted.
“I have to go.”
The reluctance in his voice made her almost change her mind. Her passport was in her backpack and the clothes she’d left at Ricki’s and Ian’s could be sent to her in the UK.
Instead she said, “Bye.”
“See you in two weeks.”
Jo watched him walk away and thought, my man!
He turned and blew her one last kiss before he disappeared from view and she felt her eyes well up.
She brushed the moisture away with an impatient hand.
She’d done the right thing by staying with Ricki and Ian for the rest of her planned vacation.
They had been totally understanding about her needing to spend the full ten days with Jay, now she owed them the pleasure of her company.
But, as Jo headed to the rank to hail a taxi to Ian’s farm, the coming days seem to stretch endlessly before her.
She wondered again if she was crazy to have let Jay go back without her.
Get it together, girlfriend! she told herself sternly.
This could be the last time in a very long time that she would spend time with her friend.
Her life was going to be so different when she returned to the UK.
Jay had already told her that he wanted her to rent her flat and move in with him.
She should be scared how fast things were moving, but she wasn’t.
She never felt surer about her feelings for any man.
And Jay seemed just as hooked on her.
They had fucked themselves to exhaustion every day…and it had been glorious.
They both needed to catch up on sleep.
Ricki had already nicknamed them ‘JJ’ and ‘Double J’, saying that the best couples always had special names.
Jo had in turn nicknamed her and Ian ‘Rian’.
Not nearly half as cute perhaps, but she had two weeks to come up with something better.
As she sat in the back of the taxi, Jo suddenly smiled.
She didn’t doubt that Jay would be there waiting patiently at Gatwick Airport at the end of her flight back to the UK.
All she had to do now was imagine that the next two weeks were the fortnight before her favourite holiday, Christmas Day.
She would let the excitement build inside her as she did every time the season came around.
And, like the wrapped parcels under the tree on that holiday, in two weeks’ time, he would be there waiting for her.
The gift she’d always wanted.
*****
The End