The next days, we spent every possible second together, Adam and I, skipping lectures, giggling like naughty schoolchildren as we hid under the duvet secure in the shelter of his room, emerging only to nibble on sandwiches, crisps and each other. We were in a cocoon of raging desire as I strove to regain a kind of lost innocence that had been eroded, drip by drip, by my relationship with Ollie.

I ignored the momentary flashes of hurt and pain that lingered behind the laughter in Adam’s beautiful eyes, or rather, I did everything in my power to make them disappear, not able to confront what I’d done to him. I felt surges of genuine happiness every time I could conjure up tears of laughter turning away or offering my body each time they threatened to brim over into a dangerous outpouring of sorrow. So, with each coupling, I’d tease, caress, whisper soothing sounds into his ears. I’d invite his touch, his tentative, probing kisses, becoming vulnerable for Adam, making recompense, almost begging him to do his worst, to hurt me physically just as I’d hurt him emotionally. But Adam was kind, gentle, cradling my flesh as if he held a treasure that he’d never really dreamed of regaining. I revelled in his gaze so full of wonderment. I performed for Adam, allowing him to watch as I slowly undressed, fondled and lifted my breasts to his lips, teasing the tips between thumb and nipple. I relished the nipping, delicious pain of teeth against flesh, the strength with which he crushed me against him, the force of his desperate plunging inside, deep and hard. I opened myself completely every time we made love, giving him the opportunity for revenge. He didn’t take it.

Those few days were like Sleeping Beauty’s hundred years of peace and refuge from the outside world. I treasured them, feverish and desperate to keep the world out because I knew that, on Friday, I’d have to speak with Ollie.

-o0o-

I didn’t think that Ollie any longer had the power to shock me, not after all I’d been through during the course of our ‘relationship.’

‘Hi, Babes, ready?’

I hadn’t rushed into his embrace. I wasn’t dressed for one of our usual Friday evening outings. Ollie knew that something was wrong.

‘I need to talk to you, Ollie.’

‘How about later, Honey. We’ll be late and you know you don’t like to miss any of the action.’

The reminder of my past behaviour, in stark contrast to the last few days, jarred and I was looking at Ollie with new eyes, dark circles under his eyes, the slight turn-down at the corner of his lips, a hint of glassiness in his gaze. For the first time, I wondered what Ollie was on. And I was filled with a sudden, sharp ragep ‘No, Ollie… There isn’t going to be a ‘later’. I need to tell you now. There’s someone else who…’

That’s when Ollie finally surprised me. He held up a hand, palm outwards as if to defend himself. And then one tear fell from his eyes, followed by another and then another…

Jade Williams
Author of Body and Soul


8 October 2008

Silent silvery tears snaked down his cheeks and Ollie made no attempt to hide them, to mitigate the stark exhibition of pain. He stared at me accusingly and I half shrunk back with irrational guilt. Somehow, the sight of those tears aroused feelings of rage rather than sympathy and I couldn’t hold back the torrent of venom that had been building for some time.

‘So, why are you crying, Ollie? I’m the one who’s been wasting my life, waiting for you. Just hanging around, week after week, for the few hours that you deign to spare me. You’re the one who already had a girlfriend. You’re the one who has a wife. And I’ve always come second, haven’t I?’

He changed tack, the direction in which he was heading obviously not destined for dry land.

‘Is he right for you? Who is he? You know I care for you, Jade. I honestly want to know about him. What does he do for you that I can’t?’

‘I met Adam a while ago—

‘So you’ve been cheating on me—’ A half smile on his face, encouraging me to lighten the mood.

‘He really cares for me. And we get on. We can talk.’

‘About what?’

‘Most things.’

‘So you can’t talk to me? And I notice that you can’t talk to him about everything. You said, "most things". What can’t you talk to him about, Jade?'

‘Us.’

‘Us?’

‘And what we do. With Adam it’s about me and him. About how we are together. Not about anyone else.’

‘So you think you can live your life in a bubble?’

‘Adam, I’m not talking about bubbles. I’m talking about what we do together… Together… Not with other people.’

‘You know you’ve loved every moment, Jade…’

And I can’t deny a flutter, a skittering of excitement at the recollections. I know I flushed and I hoped that he hadn’t noticed. In vain. Ollie took a step closer, eyes darting from side to side like a big game hunter stalking his prey. He stopped an inch away, pupils dilated, full lips slick as his tongue ran across them. Fingers reached out to trace the curve of my jaw, down my neck, into the curve of cleavage. ‘Even now! Even now, you still want me, don’t you?’

But I didn’t want to want him; I’d had just about enough of Ollie’s manipulation. I took a step back.

For several seconds, Ollie stared into my eyes. I didn’t dare break the spell, because – if I’m to tell you the truth – there was something compelling about his gaze, about the memory of his touch, fingers grazing my nipples, hands caressing the insides of my thighs, clutching my buttocks, and, yes, thick hard cock deep inside… aaaaaah… Momentarily, I swayed towards him.

But I turned away. This wasn’t what I needed.

‘Don’t touch me, Ollie.’

His eyes became as dark as a leaden winter day.

Ollie picked up his jacket, reached into the pocked and pulled out a small package. He walked towards the door and tossed the white envelope towards me. Without trying, I instinctively caught it and, without thinking, clutched it to my chest.

‘I wanted you to have those,’ Ollie said. He pointed to the package in my hands.

'And to know about Theo.'

He closed the door gently behind him.

Jade Williams
Author of Body and Soul


15 October 2008

Silent venom lingered in the air. I felt weighted down by an almost tangible sense of injustice. What on earth had I done to Ollie to make him turn on me like that? He was the one who had got married, he was the one who had attempted on so many occasions and in so many ways to share me with others. And all I had done was to find someone who cared enough to offer me, unconditionally, his time, emotion and sweet concern for me. I’d come to realise that there had to be something freakish in my nature if I were to reject that in favour of the scraps that Ollie offered. Was that so wrong?

There had been something unreadable in Ollie’s eyes as he spat his last words at me. Hurt pride? No, that would have been more understandable. This was more like rage at the loss of control over me. The worm had turned and yet he wasn’t able to squish it.

And what did he mean about ‘Theo’? Who was Theo? My imagination began to run wild. Was Ollie confessing that he was gay? Or bi? Oh shit, shit, shit! What about protection? We’d been careful most of the time, but all the time? I couldn’t be 100% certain. A line of perspiration beaded my hairline and I found myself massaging small circles at my temple.

The white envelope in my hand burned like acid and my fingers shook as I tried to break the seal. I lifted the flap and eased out a thick wedge of rectangular sheets, printed side down. The size and shape of… photographs. I turned the pile over and felt my heart begin to pound, throbbing in my ears as the images began to swim before my eyes. I wanted to drop the photos, look away, but the compulsion to know the worst was overwhelming. Objectively, the images were beautifully framed, expertly lit, almost artistic, so good that if they hung on the walls of a gallery, viewers might nod their admiration. But I couldn’t be so objective. The photos were all of me – starkly, glaringly identifiable – body impossibly contorted, in serial combinations, pale skin contrasting against mine, slender feminine fingers clutching my breast, a broad chest pressed against the curve of my back, a slick tongue poised against inner thigh, sharp white teeth nipping the lobe of my ear.

A flood of heat to my face. A clenching, grasping pain in my stomach as I flicked through each picture – did Ollie mean this as a warning, threat? – every previous frame replaying simultaneously in my head. So who was Theo? Which one of these men? How was I supposed to know?

Ollie had arranged the pictures strategically, cleverly. He’d left the best till last. The final image was of Ollie. One arm around her shoulders. Her. Bea. His wife. Both of them looking away from the camera lens. Looking down at the swaddled bundle that they cradled together. A baby. Their child. Theo.

Maybe the worm had been squished after all.

Jade Williams
Author of Body and Soul


22 October 2008

Adam held me with a close tenderness that brought a film of tears to my eyes as I avoided his concerned gaze. Sensing that something had changed, a subtle shift in the tectonic plate of my emotions in the last weeks, he was careful with me, delicate, as if I might break.

He had made love to me with a gentle kid-glove sweetness that only served to counterpoint the guilt and shame that simmered deep where I tried to bury it in the hollow cavities of my brain. Even now, fingers trailing back and forth across and around the rise and fall of my breasts as my breathing slowed, Adam aroused a flicker of longing, a fumbling quest for the previous relative innocence and joy of our relationship.

Impetuously, I clutched Adam tight, fingers delving into the ridge of his spine, probing the contours of muscle and sinew. He pulled back momentarily and turned my head, forcing me to meet his look, puzzlement etched into the furrow between his brows. Desperate to distract him, I reached between us and cupped the soft bulb of his balls, stroking, caressing, waiting for the merest flicker of life, the rhythmic pulsing that would signal renewed desire. Tentatively, I surrounded his nipple with my lips and sucked hard, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. Sitting back, watching him, watching the effects of my touch, I entwined my fingers in the coarse V of dark hairs between his thighs, tugging gently. Bending, I took his warm flesh into my mouth, tongue flicking round and round. Adam moaned, shifting his hips as if to retreat from my touch while fighting the need for more. I sucked harder, drawing him deeper as he began to harden, setting up a steady call and response, up and down as he grew fuller and fuller. Then he started to thrust as my lips explored the bulging veins, the valleys and ridges. I clutched his hips, holding him still, teasing, torturing as I pulled back, slowly releasing him as my tongue circled the soft, warm mushroom of desperate flesh before capturing him again, allowing him ever closer to the brink.

‘Oh, babe. No. Don’t stop. Please, please… Aaah…

I stopped before it was too late. Straddling his thighs, I lowered myself until I rested above him, hovering just there, tantalising, tormenting.

‘Now, Jade. Now.’

Adam reached for me, but I laced my fingers between his, holding his hands down with all my strength. His beautiful eyes were dark with longing, wild with desperation. Millimetre by millimetre I lowered the hot circle of my pussy, sliding him deeper and deeper inside. Slowly, in infinitesimally tiny degrees, I held him on the cliff edge, holding him back from the desperate plunge, watching, watching as his teeth clenched tighter, cheekbones jutting sharply.

‘Oh, God. Babe. I can’t take it.’

‘Oh yes, you can, Adam.’

I held him there, relishing my power over him, smiling to myself as his gorgeous head tossed from side to side. A bead of sweat trickled along his temple, matting his dark hair.

‘Jade, I beg you. Pleeeeeaaaaaseee…’

I couldn’t resist his plea for mercy. I gave in, plunging hard and fast, just once, holding him tight, tightening and releasing muscles in rapid, relentless pulses, using every ounce of strength until he came in a powerful rush of honeyed sweetness and I held him tight, protecting him until his shudders subsided and he came to rest in my arms.

Adam kissed me then, softly, lovingly. I wanted the moment to last.

But the pool of guilt still simmered. And hot tears filled the divide between us.

Jade Williams
Author of Body and Soul


29 October 2008

The next year scudded past like sparse grey clouds whispering across an idyllically blue summer sky.

Adam and I settled into what felt like domesticated bliss – an accepted and envied golden couple, we were at the top of the social tree, doling out coveted invitations to the selected few. We hosted dinner, tea and cocktail parties. Sure, part of this was Adam’s long-sighted, calculated cultivation of those who might yet be useful to his political future, but we also had a whole lot of fun. We’d stand together in front of the wide, speckled mirror in his bathroom preparing for the night ahead, Adam shaving while I attempted to repair a hairstyle that had, a little earlier, been dismantled by Adams’s slender fingers as he swept back unruly curls dampened by the sultry passion of early-evening love-making. We’d smile at each other and Adam would stoop to kiss me briefly, saving foam dappling my cheeks.

I came to know Adam’s family, his parents studiously liberal, warming to the idea that their son, proving the evolutionary success of their combined genes and progressive upbringing, had made such a fashionably rebellious choice of partner. I make it sound as if Adam’s mother and father weren’t fantastic people. They were. I guess I’m just feeling a little jaded now. In fact, I got on with them extraordinarily well and sensed a genuine fondness towards me, even if I never fully relaxed in their company.

A firm bond developed with Adam’s sister, Cecilia. Four years older than Adam, she fussed over him like a clucking hen and, at first, interrogated me fiercely and relentlessly. Finally convinced of my genuine care for her little brother, she melted and took me under her protective wing.

Though Dad, ever the realist, worried about problems that race would surely bring, my parents and sister all grew to adore Adam – his current role in politics presaged even then; he knew exactly how to charm them.

So, our future together was assumed by friends, family and, I guess, both of us. Adam stayed on to complete his Masters and, as my final year loomed, I smiled at all my girlfriends who frantically scoured through tattered address books, despairing of finding A Husband. Adam and I held each other at night, secure in the burning electric current that sparked and arced between us and each day, relaxed into the warm friendship that simmered.

‘She who lights my life,’ he’d introduce me. I’d laugh at the flowery compliment, reaching for his hand, meeting his proud, lingering gaze.

Ollie had long ago faded away, my anger dissipated and forgotten. Adam and I were constructing a future built on a pretty solid foundation.

Until a knock on the door. Special delivery. The package that brought the whole edifice crashing down.

Jade Williams
Author of Body and Soul

Read Jade's other blogs:

May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
November 2008
December 2008

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