JAMESIt's a nice area. A pretty area. And it's a day for seeing it at its best.Yachts and pleasure boats float in bobbing ranks on sparkling water. Tourists walk by with ice creams, tossing coins to cross-legged artists sitting by pavement chalkings. Shops sell souvenirs, art and holiday wear.The apartment block is clean and well-maintained. The hallway as we approach the door smells of new carpet and fresh paint.Mitch stands outside the door, seeming to gather herself together, then taking a breath, she inserts the key, turns it, opens the door and we step inside.It's... lovely...Sunlight dances over walls painted in soft neutral colours. They complement the furnishings, made from some pale golden timber, perhaps beech."Can't fault his taste," comments Michael.Paintings dot the walls, abstract mainly, except for a single striking piece taking the centre of one wall; an image of ice and broken water in astonishing rainbow hues."Amazing painting," I say, looki
MICHAELI don't much feel like breakfast, but for the sake of form, I join Mitch, James and Charlotte in the kitchen, downing a coffee, then pouring another.James is on his usual 'toast and coffee only' breakfast. Mitch works her way through yoghurt and muesli, eating tidily and sipping at a cup of peppermint tea.Charlotte's standing on tiptoe, rummaging at the top shelf of the store cupboard. James stands, walks across. "What are you looking for?""Pickled onions.""You don't like pickled onions.""I felt like one sliced up on my sandwich."I've already seen the other items laid out on the worktop for Charlotte's 'sandwich', along with the expression flitting across James' face as he saw them too.Hmmm...But he snakes up a long arm to the top shelf and takes down a jar.In some fascination we sit, watching Charlotte assemble a peanut butter, avocado and pickled onion sandwich, on crusty bread cut thick enough to use as a draught excluder. In a final flourish, sh
MICHAELI sit, staring at nothing, thinking about...... Nothing...Maybe I should get something to eat?My gut's griping. I've not eaten all day. Sally brought me one of her usual offerings for lunch; a plate-sized bacon and egg sandwich and a can of beer, but the smell turned my stomach.Scruffy ate well though along with Kirstie's tribe, running wild around the gardens in hairy, waggy, excitable enthusiasm.The pint-sized rag-tag lies by my feet. Occasionally he looks up at me, whining. I scratch his ear and he settles again.There's no sign of James and Charlotte other than James' tablet on his armchair and a book, marker inserted, on Charlotte's favourite spot on the settee. With no real interest, I look at the cover. 'A Song of Ice and Fire - A Dance with Dragons.'The scent of something is drifting in, James' cooking I assume. A part of me says it smells rich and savoury, winey and herby, but my gut recoils.Just a coffee maybe...I head for the kitchen, but
MICHAELheading south, I tug at the ties of the thong, pulling away about a square inch of satin as the flimsy thing falls away.Richard sucks in air. "So, James, where would you like me to start?""I'm sure you don't need instructions from me..." James drops eyes to Beth's smooth pubis. "... An old hand like you." His gaze shifts to Charlotte... "But I think we'll adjust the furniture a little." Rising, he takes a stand-mirror from the corner of the bedroom, moves it to the side of the bed, adjusts the angle, then stands back to gauge the results. He adjusts it a little, measures it by eye again and then nods. Charlotte has an excellent view of her own sex."Would you like her opened a little further, Richard? I imagine you'll want to reach everything easily.""Excellent idea, James. The knees wider I think, and we'll lift her hips."It's a game they play, the pair of them, torturing her with anticipation, but Charlotte's eyes tell a tale. The two Doms work as a team, J
A sound... Charlotte clearing her throat. "Ummm...""Yes, Charlotte." Richard swings around. "I believe that makes it your turn. James... Together or separately?""You're the guest, Richard. You choose.""In that case, I think together. Heads or tails?""Oh, tails I think, if that suits you?""Absolutely."As I withdraw from Beth, tucking away my subsiding erection, I help her upright.Richard and James both stand, side by side, towering over Charlotte. I back away from the action, giving them space, but take Beth with me, pulling her down onto my lap as I sit, nuzzling into her neck. "Thank you. You have no idea how much..."She twists back, kisses me on the mouth. "I think I did know."James and Richard are both stripping off jackets, ties and shirts, kicking off shoes. "I think Charlotte's about to get it big time," she murmurs."I'd say so, yes."James drops to his knees, settles between her thighs.Richard unzips, releases himself, then stroking his erectio
JAMESPain....Blinding, shrieking, unholy agony....Screaming....My Jade-Eyes screaming....Blood....Pain....Screaming.My Jade, weeping....With a gasp, I rear up, blinking into darkness.A nightmare....Just a nightmare....Beside me in the bed, my flame-haired mermaid, safe and sound, sleeps peacefully. Beyond her: Michael, his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep.Everything is fine. Everything is perfectly normal.But I'm drenched in sweat, my heart hammers behind my ribs and my breathing snatches. The wound in my thigh throbs a slow, heated beat.And for the first time, the memory surfaces, how I took the wound. Corby, his gun trained on Charlotte. Michael, flinging himself bodily at the gunman in a desperate bid to prevent the shot. And looking for refuge, finding none, I seize her, shielding her with my body....Pain....Shrieking unbearable agony......... And a fall into darkness....Christ!I check the time; it
JAMESI slam my pen down on the desk.Fuck!I'm educated, intelligent and usually articulate. I have no difficulties expressing my thoughts.So, how difficult can it be to write a five-minute Best Man's Speech?I rose early, wanting a little peace and quiet so I could get on with the most classic of a Best Man's duties. I'd assumed it would be easy and I would run the job off in twenty or thirty minutes.An hour later, the paper in front of me remains stubbornly blank.And my eyes ache.Surely I don't need another eye test?It goes with middle-age I suppose....There's no upside to getting older....I need coffee....Leaning back against the counter, sipping at my drink, my mind wanders, travelling back in time to my first marriage....No....My marriage....For this wedding, it's Michael who is marrying her.But it doesn't feel like that.It feels like my wedding too.And I'll get it right this time....This is my true marriage.Even though it w
KLEMPNERSutcliffe pokes his head around the door. "You have visitors, Mr Klempner." I jolt to attention. "Who? Is it her?""No sir, it's two men. The blond one who came with her last time, and another one.""Dark-haired? Looks a bad bastard?""That sounds like him, yes, sir."From outside my cell comes another voice, brusque; Hartland. "Sutcliffe, get on with it. Larry, move yourself. We don't have all day."Sutcliffe rolls eyes, offering me a look of mute apology, then, "Yes, Mr Hartland. We're coming now."In corridors of concrete and steel, sour with the stink of disinfectant and sweat, Sutcliff walks behind me, as per the rules. I speak in a low voice. "You remember what I asked you to do?""Yes, sir. Leave it with me."*****MICHAELKlempner ambles in as though he'd been invited to a tea party. His eyes pass over me, already seated, instead sliding across to James who stands, arms folded, lids hooded, silent.Klempner sits, the screen separating us. "On