The irony of the situation didn’t escape me even then: I’d resisted all manner of fashionable drugs freely on offer around Alexander’s dinner table, only to be drawn back to my first drug of choice – sex. I don’t think I was under any illusion that there was anything resembling love between Ollie and me, but he represented both my dealer – he’d first introduced me to the highs and lows – and the drug itself. And that’s what I was in love with. I loved sex and, in turn, I was hooked on – and constantly astonished by – the power I held over Ollie. I had merely to glance at him or brush against him with the faintest of touches and he’d be instantly hard. I didn’t explore why that was. My relationship with Ollie was purely, exquisitely and unhealthily physical. Ollie took it almost as a sacred duty to instruct me in all the sensual delights – tending always to the darker, more dangerous side.

Did I mention that I saw Ollie only at weekends? To an extent, that suited me fine. During the week I became reclusive, cutting myself off from fellow students, longing only for Ollie’s return on Friday nights, unable to share with friends details of any of our adventures – nights that thrilled with exquisite torture, but that made me feel ever so slightly ashamed. And still, my focus was keen, pining for skin against hot, yielding flesh, insatiable desire peaking my breasts, swirling sensation threatening to dissolve my very core as his tongue teases inner thigh. Sitting in lecture halls, visions of his rigid and ridged pole approaching my lips, threatening with its determination, the intoxicating aroma of his overpowering maleness almost tangible now, making thigh muscles contract. Visceral memories of the probing of relentless fingers deep inside – this time my own – advancing, retreating, back and forth as Ollie watches, full lips parted slightly as his breath becomes shallow, fast. I tear my eyes away from him, thick mushroom of his penis emerging from his tight fist and I glance at my reflection in the mirror, legs wide, moisture glistening against lush, dark pussy hair and I’m hypnotised by the wantonness, the exposure, the knowing abandon to my lover’s eyes. Being watched brings an extra sensual dimension that Ollie understands. He has an awareness of the delicate undercurrents of my needs that Adam would never have guessed at. For now, I luxuriate in the knife-edge torture of being seen. Here in the sparsely populated echoing lecture hall, I reach down, fingers sliding to achieve release…

Yes, Ollie understands. He understands and he challenges my secret desires, edging me a little further each time towards the knife-edge precipice. With an unerring instinct, he sought out like-minded souls. I didn’t ask how, but he found people I had never met in this small town before. My first introduction to this exclusive elite was unexpected, unsought, but not unwelcome. No warning, no preparation. But Ollie clearly believed that I was ready…

Jade Williams
Author of Body and Soul

10 September 2008

I simply received a text. ‘Pick u up 10.00. Glad rags.’ And I waited from 8.00, on edge, pacing back and forth, tension building, not knowing if I was ready...

Ollie rang the doorbell of the anonymous building and a not-so-young woman answered, taking our coats, offering drinks from a side table strategically placed in the hall and hovering around us like a mother hen.

‘Make yourself comfortable, Sweetie,’ she directed at me before opening the door to a dimly lit room, candles flickering in the sudden draught. She gestured a slight nod at the soft woollen cardigan that I clutched protectively around my waist.

I gulped at my drink, a blush rising to my cheeks as mildly curious glances turned in my direction although all activity continued, no one even missing a stroke. All around me figures in various states of dress and undress moved together in an erotic dance. Pairs, threesomes, serpentine groups undulated, soft gasps of pleasure, surprise or pain penetrating the gentle anonymous music that flowed through gigantic speakers.

The woman continued to babble at my side. ‘This your first time, love? Don’t worry, we’ll look after you. I’m Penny, by the way.’ Penny? Such a normal name and, indeed, now that I finally looked at her properly, such a normal woman. Time and space seemed to shift alignment as I adjusted my focus from the background activity onto her. Thirty-five-ish. Badly permed mousy hair. Eyes that looked so trustingly at you that you’d never want to deceive her.

‘Come, dear.’ Penny took my hand and led me to a plump sofa that enveloped as I sat, Ollie on the other side of me. She took my glass and I half expected her to offer me a cup of sweet tea but she merely patted my knee comfortingly.

‘Relax, my dear. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.’ As shadows flickered against the walls and ceiling, giant ogre shapes rearing up and then cowering back, I did allow myself to sink back and drift, Penny’s burbling a reassuring backdrop.

In one corner a slim dark-haired youth, no more than seventeen, lay back, seemingly in a trance, eyes wide in apparent shock as two women gazed adoringly at his long, thin penis that twitched occasionally in response to a touch, a caress, a testing little squeeze.

Diagonally opposite, a darkly handsome middle-aged man leaned forward on a chaise longue, keenly eyeing the threesome, toned muscles taut as he thrust rapidly back and forth into his tight fist, cheekbones high as his teeth clenched. I, in turn gazed, mesmerised, at him, breath deepening each time the slick, purple mushroom merged from the cocoon of his hand.

‘Look, there,’ Ollie whispered as his hot tongue snaked a trail from collarbone to my ear.

‘Lovely, aren’t they?’ Penny echoed, pointing to two blonde full-breasted women who might have been sisters. The contours of their bodies formed the most exquisite tableau as they lay together, legs and arms entwined and one, with a sharp red-painted fingernail traced the isobars of the continental map that was the other’s body across mountains, along the valleys and deep into the chasms and crevasses of her landscape.’

A sudden rush of wetness made me moan as I met the eyes of the guy on the chaise. Our eyes locked for just a second before he turned away to concentrate on the women.

‘They’re two of my regulars. Come back if you like them.’

Both Penny and Ollie had misunderstood the source of my excitement. I didn’t disillusion them as Ollie’s tongue snaked into my ear and Penny’s trembling fingers began a tentative expedition along my thigh, upwards, lifting my skirt, exposing my flesh…

Watching the stranger across the room, perspective joining us like subjects in a Magritte painting, I caught a glimpse of what it was that I really wanted, really needed.

Jade Williams
Author of Body and Soul

17 September 2008

Through the autumn and unexpectedly severe winter, I continued to study but always in a miasma of sexual desire. My head was not in the books I read, lectures I attended, essays I wrote. Instead, it was as if my whole body was electrified, sensitised to each and every erotic stimulus. Vacations that should have been a time of welcome relaxation with parents and sister became almost purgatory, trembling withdrawal from my drug of choice.

Throughout every week, I’d wait, expectations heightened, waiting for Friday evenings Ollie’s arrival promising new and previously unimagined experiences.

I sensed, but only distantly, that Ollie was becoming impatient in his demands; I would willingly subject myself to his experimental forays, eyes wide, taking in the minutest arousing details of each new visual temptation, but I held back from taking part, subjecting myself to the touch of others. Although curious, drawn in, hypnotised by the touch of strangers’ fingers on anonymous flesh, cries of ecstasy piercing the air, I remained somehow detached and content to watch, allowing Ollie alone to take me, half hidden in the shadows of a dimly-lit room.

And it was after our first venture to that kindly woman’s house that the flowers began to arrive. Tiny, neat, elegant posies. No accompanying card or note. For only a short while I thought they might have been from Ollie, but his would have been large, showy, headily perfumed. I soon knew and didn’t know how to respond. These delicate offerings were from Adam. It was so like him: restrained, undemanding and totally charming. I couldn’t contact him, though. Though not yet reaching the surface, something bubbled beneath the wide open tingling nerve ends of my skin that told me that I was now tainted; I didn’t want to corrupt what had been between me and Adam. I didn’t respond. Adam never telephoned, never wrote, never turned up at my door. And still, week after week, the flowers would be delivered to my flat, a constant reminder of what had been between us.

Spring arrived, a welcome, cleansing reminder that life continued with endless new possibilities. It’s difficult now to explain the addiction to Ollie except to say that raw, unrestrained, daring, illicit sex was the constant draw. Remember that this had been my very first experience of passion and if you’ve never experienced this, then it might be impossible for you to understand what kept me with Ollie, what had made me reject Adam.

Lurking in the shadows of my mind was a thought that fluttered nearer and nearer but that I brushed aside each time: the unbreakable routine. I would only ever see Ollie at weekends. Unfailingly, he’d arrive on Friday evening and leave early on Sunday morning. I can’t say that I didn’t have suspicions but, equally, I didn’t really want to know.

Then, gradually, something changed. I became restless, needy, unsatisfied. Because into my dreams crept that first stranger, watching, watching. And then Adam’s face, his eyes. As I lay back, constantly aroused, open, vulnerable they invaded my fantasies, joined us in our love-making.

Jade Williams
Author of Body and Soul

24 September 2008

These were supposed to be the best years of my life. I knew that even then. And yet, there I was each night expending time, energy and emotion on waiting for Ollie’s arrival. I was beginning to neglect study, friends and even family just longing for the next sexual thrill that the weekend would bring – and with it the hope of that mirage of final fulfilment – while Ollie… Well, what was Ollie doing? He never spoke of the time apart and I never asked.

Meanwhile, I heard from those pals who still cared enough to continue to pester me with invitations to lunch, supper, drinks, concerts, chats if I needed them, anything at all, that Adam on those long evenings, remained mostly alone. There had been the odd sighting of him with one or another gorgeous blonde on his arm, but they had clearly led to nothing. And week after week, delicate scented posies arrived and perfumed the air in my room, night after night.

I called him. The sound of his voice startled me with its husky warmth and I nearly hung up suddenly struck dumb and doubtful as to his reaction. My silence must have spoken more than a million words.

‘Jade? Jade, it’s you isn’t it?’ A sudden catch of hope in his throat.

‘Hi Adam.’

‘It’s so good to hear you.’

‘I’m sorry, Adam, I…’

‘Don’t say it, Jade. Don't apologise.’

I wasn’t sure exactly what that ‘sorry’ meant. Sorry that I’d left him? Sorry that I’d finally got in touch again? Sorry because I didn’t know what I was doing? Adam must have sensed my uncertainly because he spoke fast, hardly pausing for breath, not letting me interrupt, not allowing me room for the uncertainty to prevail.

‘…later tonight. Jade, I’ll be there at 8.00 then, Jade. We can just hang out, have a meal or just a drink? See you.’ He hung up.

Had I said yes to something? Or had Adam simply taken my silence for agreement. I was committed now, because he would be arriving in just over an hour.

-o0o-

It hurt to look into Adam’s eyes and I instantly felt saddened and overwhelmed with guilt. Nothing as dramatic as gaunt cheeks or deathly pallor or sunken eyes, but instead a hesitation to meet my eyes and deep, deep pain behind the pupils, not masked by his smile, when he did.

Adam reached for me and I instinctively took his hand and walked into his embrace. He held me close, caressing my hair and breathing in my scent. I buried my head into his shoulders and closed my eyes trying hard not to cry, not to release pent-up emotion. Then Adam pulled away and, taking my face in both hands, kissed me so, so gently, brushing my bottom lip with his tongue, tentative, no longer sure. Something icy inside me began to melt, turning to warm, golden liquid. I responded to his kiss, pulling his shirt out, needing to sense his naked flesh beneath my touch, savouring the heat rising from his body. He was still, waiting, reluctant to break the spell. It was as if he didn’t want a dream to fade.

I stepped back, away from him and I could see the sudden flicker of hurt rise to his eyes again. I smiled at him with as much reassurance as I could.

‘Adam, I have to explain.’

‘Please, Jade. Not now. I don’t think I want to know.’

I nodded, understanding why. I unbuttoned my blouse. Unzipped my skirt and let it fall. Adam stared, heat visibly rising to his cheeks. He watched. Just watched. A tiny fire started inside, making my nipples hard. I wanted to feel his touch but I also wanted him to continue watching. Reaching behind, I unclasped my bra and let it fall to the ground, cupping my breasts in my palms. I stood, almost naked, for a few luxurious moments and then let my hands drop to my sides. Adam’s sudden rush of pleasure betrayed itself in a harsh gasp and his eyes widened as his pupils dilated. I walked close, took his hands and placed them on my hips. I kissed him again and allowed my tongue to trail along the length of his neck, down to his collarbone. Then he was returning my kiss, hot lips burning circles around my hardened nipple and I let out a moan of ecstasy at the instant effervescent sensation that tickled between my legs and fizzed along my spine.

I pulled Adam down, there, on the floor and his fingers reached for my mound, cradling, making me shudder with excitement and anticipation. I moved against his hand, directing the sensation, craving the fire that he was kindling with his soft, tentative probing. His thumb circled languidly, excruciatingly, heading inexorably for my clitoris and I tensed, just waiting for the touch. Closer, closer, ever closer. Adam stopped, looked into my eyes and, finding an answer, slid down against my side until he hovered above me and, and… Sparks exploded as the tip of his tongue found the spot and lingered there, slowly drawing unbearable figures of eight, round, down, round and round. I couldn’t move. Didn’t dare. Couldn’t bear to break the rhythm, scared by the intensity of the building sensation, building, building, building until I pushed him away, begging him to stop.

I must have triggered something because all at once, Adam was crushing me tightly in his arms, unzipping himself, folding my knees to my chest, exploring and finding a route and, without any warning, he was fiercely inside me with one ferocious thrust that threatened to impale.

‘Jade, I’ve wanted this for so long. Dreamed of this. Babe, I’ve missed you so much. I don’t think I can wait.’

‘Then don’t wait, Adam.’

He didn’t. All his weight crushing me as he slipped further inside my slick, hot opening, hips rotating, easing even further as his fingers sought my nipples and squeezed, hard. Pulling out slowly, then thrusting hard, fast, hammering like a steel piston, back and forth and I’m climbing with him towards the peak, I’m on heat, burning up, in a fever of unquenchable desire and I’m nearly there, nearly there, nearly there and he slows the motion, becoming tender, oh, so sweet. I match his pace, surrendering to his command, rocking with him back and forth, side to side, relishing the melting, longed-for, innocent sweetness that envelops us in a golden cocoon.

One long, ecstatically, beautifully painful thrust and Adam comes with an, ‘Uh, uh, uh, aaaah’ of release and forgiveness and warmth and an endlessly lingering, soft kiss. I watch his beautiful face, long, long lashes fluttering against his cheeks. His eyes flicker open and in an instant, he’s between my legs, pushing my thighs wide and licking, sucking, nibbling, circling, tongue darting to the peak of my desire and then he’s retreating making every pore flood with expectant desire. The tide ebbs and flows, each upward surge wearing away all resistance until I’m wide open to him, a pool of silvery mercury and he stabs hard, just there, just where he needs to, again, again and again and I scream loud and long as my whole body begins to burn in a cascade of unbearably brilliant fireworks.

We lie together for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, his fingers caressing the inside of my thigh, round and round, hypnotically and I drift off to sleep, wondering if we really are bit-part players in Adam's dream.

Jade Williams
Author of Body and Soul

Read Jade's previous blogs:

May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
October 2008
November 2008

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