Goes Without Saying Pt. 01

He knew then that at least for the present she was all his. She sashayed towards him and took the glasses from him, placing them on the coffee table. Her arms went around his neck, and she pressed herself against him. She felt his erect cock, giggled and sighed. Their lips met and they devoured each other. All worries were eclipsed for him as they got into it.

She was tugging at his tee shirt, over his head and off. Then she was fumbling at his belt and drawing his zip down. Then his pants and boxers were on their way to his feet. He was naked.

She drew her fingers over his erection lightly, giving a little tug before reaching behind herself and loosening her bra, slipping it off her shoulders. Then her breasts were pressed against him. She groaned.

"Take them off!"

Since there were only three articles of clothing left, and all of them on her, he knelt and went for her stockings, only for her to pull his hands to her knickers.

He slid his open hands down each side of her waist and under the waistband, sliding the garment down as he caressed her buttocks, thighs and calves. She moaned.

He pushed her down onto the sofa, spreading her legs, and applying his tongue to her vulva.

"Put it in me!" she begged, but he ignored her. Her hands were raking his hair as his tongue made its repeated journey up each side of her outer lips, then down her open centre but avoiding her clitoris. In her turn she repeatedly lifted her hips while her hands tried to force him onto her pleasure point. He would not allow this. She gasped her frustration, but he was not listening; she was to be tortured for much longer before he allowed her release.

As he licked from her anus to her mons, tickling her inner lips and her valley, dipping into her hole briefly each time, her moans and groans grew higher in pitch and stronger in their intensity, until she started to beg him. Her legs, once resting on the floor, now straight up in the air, now hanging, knees bent, in mid air, then clasped round his back and neck.

"Please my lover, please!"

He lifted his head, "Please what?"

"Let me come, please, I'm in agony!" her face was contorted in a grimace, and her eyes were wild. He returned to his task.

"Oh, no!" she cried, "Please, please!"

He licked her clit. Bang! Her scream was deafening, her hips bucked and pitched against his urgent tongue as she cried and moaned out her climax, on and on, as he licked and nipped her little bud, until she begged him to stop.

He stood, pulling her bottom off the sofa and lining up his aching penis with her sloppy vaginal entrance, thrusting deep.

"Aah!" she yelled as he bottomed out, and began to pound her as she hung from his forearms. Her orgasm rose again, her hands beating on the sofa seat on each side of her.

Soon her clasping vaginal muscles twitching and gripping his length took him over the crest of his own wave and he came in his turn, setting her off again. He sank to his knees and continued gently to thrust in and out of her satiated sex. She sighed and simpered as she enjoyed the soft sensations his cock was giving her. She pulled him towards her and craned her neck to kiss him, so gently and lovingly.

The stress on her back was too great and she sank back with a blissful smile.

"My darling!" she whispered, "So good! Love you so much!"

It jerked David back to reality. She loved him so much? But was going to ditch him for a footballing playboy? It showed in his face for her brow furrowed.

"What's the matter?" she asked, all concern.

"My knees," he lied, recovering quickly, standing and then sitting next to her, taking her in his arms and cuddling her. A near miss. He would have to be more careful.

She used the remote control to put some on some music and they half lay, half sat on the sofa in silence, sipping their drinks until they climbed the stairs to bed.

The next two weeks were spent in pursuance of his plan - or rather Gwen's plan.

Celia and David usually had sex every other day or so, and it meant that David's charm offensive did not arouse any suspicion in her. It was however clear that she was impressed with his attentiveness to her thorough satisfaction.

There was the quickie, taking her from behind in the kitchen on the table while fingering her to orgasm and pile-driving her to his own. There was the prolonged oral ministration to her sex causing her to beg him to stop. There was the oral followed by slow fucking with her legs over his shoulder (after he had relieved some tension beforehand, by his own hand). That time her orgasm rose three times and during the last one she actually lost consciousness. The 'piece de resistance' was giving her the two hour massage followed by a gentle fucking in missionary position.

Of course there were the many caresses as they went about their lives in the house, the gentle kisses on her neck, pats on the bottom, little hugs and nuzzles: the works.

He had feared that he would be turned off her; it didn't happen. He feared it would feel unnatural and forced; that didn't happen either. It occurred to him that he might be trying too hard to woo her, but it felt just as relaxed as always.

It was on the Tuesday of the second week that he had another brainwave. He had been idly looking through his diaries, reprising their six years together, when he found a significant date. He said a prayer of thanks. Saturday would be the fifth anniversary of her moving in with him. A devious plan formed.

He phoned Celia's boss and the man was happy to let her go on Friday for a romantic weekend, and to keep it secret as a surprise.

Then on the Wednesday, Gwen phoned David.

"A word to the wise," she said without pre-amble, "Celia is meeting Gary for lunch tomorrow. Why don't you turn up and take her to lunch - see what she does?"

David thought for a moment. "Thanks Gwen," he said. "I might just do that."

"Did you put the plan into action?" she asked.

"Yep," he replied. "She's had a whale of a time."

"I know," she said, "I had lunch with her today, that's how I found out she was seeing lover-boy tomorrow. I invited her for tomorrow and she couldn't make it. We had an interesting conversation. Tell you about it sometime."

"I'd like that." he said.

He took the afternoon off the next day and drove into her office car park five minutes before her lunch break. There, at the end of the car park, leaning against his Porsche, was Gary.

David drove to a position opposite the front door of the building and phoned her.

"Hey, Celia," he gushed, "My office is closed - a power cut. So I can take you out for lunch."

"Oh."

There was a note of uncertainty in her voice. What was she to do? He could hear the cogs turning in her brain.

"I've got to work through lunch darling, I'm sorry I can't make it. It would have been nice though. Tomorrow?"

"OK. I can eat my sandwiches in the car," and he rang off.

A minute later she came hurrying through the main door. She wasn't looking for David or his car, but for Gary, and she found him. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, and started to walk towards her. David opened his window.

"Hey, Celia? I thought you had to work through lunch?"

She spun round, a look of horror and guilt all over her face. She made for David's car's passenger side. Gary was still approaching, now looking puzzled. She climbed in.

"I was going for a walk for some fresh air," she babbled, "Let's go to the park. I haven't got long."

"You sure?" David prevaricated. "I mean-"

"Drive David! I haven't much time. Got to be back in ten minutes."

David took just long enough to fire up the engine to let Gary get to the back of the car before driving away, leaving Gary standing, looking very angry indeed. David rather hoped Gary would follow them, but he didn't.

She was pale and shaking.

"You OK?" David said solicitously, "you look as though you've seen a ghost."

"N-no. I'm fine. You surprised me, that's all. I thought you were still at your office. Quite a shock seeing you there in the car park."

"Well, I was on my way home and thought I could take you to lunch, No matter. Hey, did you see that Porsche in the car park? Really cool! Thought I recognised the bloke leaning on it, but can't place him. Know him?"

"Didn't see the car, or the guy. Must have been waiting for someone."

Yes, David thought, and I know for whom as well, and that my dear Celia, was a lie.

They arrived at the park, and went for a ten minute stroll round the gardens. Then back to the office. The Porsche was still there, with Gary inside it. David parked opposite the door as he had before. He knew Gary could see them.

What is more, he knew that she had seen Gary as well. Now she was agitated.

"Must rush," she said, and went to get out.

"No kiss?" he asked.

She halted, turned and tried to give him a peck on the cheek, but he took her face in his hands and kissed her long and hard.

"That's better," he said.

"What'll you do this afternoon?" she asked, rather transparently he thought in the circumstances.

"I'll sit here and eat my sandwiches," he said, "and then go home."

"Bye, darling," she said, kissed him again, and left the car, hurrying to the office.

Gary had got out of the car and had started towards her, but stopped when she dived into the building. Then he stopped and got out his mobile. She must have been explaining who David was, for he glanced towards him and then turned his back. A little late, David thought, if he wanted to escape notice.

Gary got into his car and drove away. So did David, after a delay to make sure Gary did not return or that Celia did not come back out of the building.

David used the afternoon to pack a bag for the weekend. He had booked them in at the hotel in London where they had first celebrated her moving in, along with a theatre booking and first class train tickets to the smoke. He placed the bag in the bottom of the wardrobe.

Over dinner he decided to have a little more fun at her expense. He surmised that she would have planned a lunch date with Gary for Friday.

"Shame about lunch today," he began. "It's been such a nice day; a picnic would have been fun."

"Yes," she said, affecting sincerity. "If you were thinking of tomorrow, I couldn't leave work at lunchtime tomorrow either. Life is hectic at work at the moment."

So she was meeting Gary. David remembered Henry Fanshaw, her boss, had told him things were very slack at the moment, so there was no problem about her having the day off.

"You're right about not being able to leave work tomorrow," he said with a straight face. "You won't be at work tomorrow."

"Say again?"

"You won't be going in to work tomorrow. I spoke to Henry and he seemed to think there'd be no problem about you taking the day off."

"You did what?"

"I asked Henry what were the chances of you having the day off tomorrow."

"God David! Are you trying to get me sacked? I've got to be there; there's so much-"

"Henry said things were slack. Where's all this work you're talking about?"

"He was just trying to be nice to you. No, David, I've got to go in."

"OK, I'll go on my own."

"Go? Go where?"

"You've no idea, dear Celia, have you?" David said, affecting exaggerated patience. "I'm very disappointed. Saturday is the fifth anniversary of you moving in here with me. I've planned a surprise for you.

"First class tickets by train to London tomorrow morning; the same hotel we stayed in when we celebrated you moving in; shopping in Oxford Street Saturday morning; dinner at a Michelin Star restaurant; a show in the evening; a club for some dancing.

"Of course, if you can't drag yourself away from the office even after Henry has given the go-ahead, you don't deserve it, but I'm not going to waste it."

Her shock was gratifying, her tearful hug and kiss as she sat on his lap at the table more so.

"Oh, David, you romantic fool," she sobbed, "How wonderful!"

But he knew there would have to be a phone call, and now he also knew she would not pass up the weekend he had planned.

He told her he had already packed and was going for a shower. He stripped and left his clothes in the bedroom and ran the shower on cold. Then crept along the landing. Sure enough she was on the phone.

"... I'm sorry Gary, but he's sprung this on me as a surprise."

"... No I can't. He's doing this as a treat for me; he's found out Saturday is the fifth anniversary of me moving in with him."

"... No I can't. I don't know how you could suggest that."

"... Well, I'll have to give it some time after we get back. I can't very well celebrate five years with him and then dump him. What sort of a bitch do you think I am?"

"... You don't seem to get it do you? He's not some sort of bastard I'm trying to escape from. He's a very good man who loves me to bits and I love him. It's our relationship - general life - that's gone stale."

"... Ok, lover. Just a couple of weeks more. Bye, darling."

David returned to the bathroom and had a shock as he got under the freezing cold water. Having restored the hot water he took his shower. He did not spend ages under the shower; he got out quickly and having dried himself went to the bedroom. There he sat and thought it over.

She was going to go through with it. She had some sort of misguided idea that she could leave him without causing him any pain. What sort of fantasy life was she leading? He could feel his connection with her fading. They would have a good weekend together. When they got back he would finish it. No way was she going to dump him.

She came to bed all smiles and fell upon him, taking him orally and then riding him to their mutual conclusion. She cuddled up and he hugged her to him.

It is strange how a loving action like that can blunt the reality of what was really going on. Our emotions cloud our reasoning very easily, at least his did at the time.

The weekend was a resounding success. They did everything she loved, and they made love each evening and Saturday afternoon after returning from her shopping expedition.

David had a lunch date on Monday, but not with Celia. As far as he was concerned she could have as many lunch dates with her new lover as she wanted. He was now mentally at a distance from her; it was as if she had already left.

-

Chapter 03

David met Gwen at a nearby park and they ate their sandwiches together.

He told her about the abortive lunch and she laughed. He told her about the weekend and she gave him a look of admiration.

"Well," she said, "you've certainly made her decision a lot harder. When we had our talk over lunch, I told her she'd been seen by a few of our friends, I said she was already cheating by seeing him behind your back. She didn't like that. I told her that it would get back to you and that would finish you as a couple. She said she would have left you by then. I affected amazement. I told her she was throwing over a dead cert. for a very dodgy relationship."

She took a sip of water from her bottle before continuing.

"I asked her why she was throwing away her life with you and she came out with that crap about your relationship losing its spark. I told her that always happens, but she didn't take it on board.

"So I asked her did she understand what she had to lose. She said she would always wonder what it would have been like with Gary. I asked her if she wouldn't always wonder what the rest of her life with you would have been like.

"I told her you would never have her back when Gary dumped her. She didn't think Gary would ever dump her, and I don't think she believed me that you wouldn't have her back. She thinks her devastating good looks opens all doors.

"David, why do women always think that it will be different with them when they date a playboy? I just said that she was making the biggest mistake of her life, and that there would be no going back when her world fell apart.

"I even gave her a list of the girls I know who have been dumped by Gary. She looked worried at that, but I think she's too far gone. I'm sure Gary has told her she's different. She isn't. Sorry my love."

"Well, you're right about taking her back," David said, "That won't happen. It's funny, Gwen, but this whole thing doesn't feel real. Splitting with her doesn't worry me and I know it should. I know it's inevitable. But I'll tell you this; when she was phoning him about the weekend, and then saying she'd leave it about two weeks before moving out, I decided that was enough. I'm confronting her tonight. She's not dumping me, I'm dumping her."

"I think you're right." she said, and then had an idea. "Finished your lunch?"

He nodded.

"How about we drop by Celia's company, and see if she's had another lunch with lover boy?"

It seemed a good idea, and she drove them in her car to Celia's office.They parked at the back of the car park and waited. Sure enough, the Porsche arrived, stopping outside the door. They could see them in the car quite clearly. The lovers were locked in a prolonged kiss before Celia left the car.

In retrospect, David thought that was the moment it became real. It was the moment when his emotions and his head came together. He felt the yawning churning gap in his stomach. Celia and he were finished. He would never again wake up with her, go to sleep with her in his arms, make love with her, laugh and joke with her. He felt real fear and loss. He'd got used to living with her, how would he manage living on his own again?

Gwen saw David's face change and grasped his thigh.

"Don't be hopeless about this. You'll get through it," she assured him, "There are lots of women who would be delighted to make a life with you. Not many as pretty, but that doesn't last, and really it doesn't matter too much. Hold on and be strong."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'm here for you David. Don't forget that."

She took him back to his car, and he returned to work but got little done. He went to see Michael Simpson, his boss, and told him what was happening. Michael was sympathetic.

"Take what time you need," he said. "I know what it's like."

David remembered his boss had been through a vicious divorce. He felt some relief that divorce was not necessary in his case, but it didn't lessen the hurt. From time to time he had felt anger, even rage but not any more. All that had gone. He just felt so sad; he wanted it over.

He went home.

He got out the three biggest suitcases they had and left them in the bedroom, then sat and thought back over the past six years. Holidays together, Christmas and New Year, some of the parties they had, and also the ordinary times: washing up together, gardening, her ecstatic response when he got tickets for her favourite singer's concert. They were good times, and he reminded himself that they would always be good memories, once the suffering had lessened with time. That little touch of philosophy did nothing for his present feelings.

He made plans about how he would deal with her when she arrived from work. That provoked a dead feeling inside; a certain hopelessness. He decided that the less she was allowed to say the better. What could she say anyway that would not be untrue, or hypocritical, or vacuous? But David would have his say, indeed he would.

So he was sitting in his chair when she came through the door, happy as Larry.

"Hi darling..." she began but saw his face.

Good, he thought.

"What's the matter?" She was all concern.

"Did you have a good lunch?" he asked in a dead voice.

"Not reall-"

"With Gary?"

Her face was a picture. Puzzled for a moment then worried and fearful.

"You certainly seemed happy enough just before you got out of his car."

She coloured up in embarrassment. "You saw?"