Ms Thomas' Guide to Lovemaking

It had window-panelled double doors on either end, with cut-up windows all around, and a pull-out sun screen that stood over a little wooden deck, now straining beneath the weight of a thick white ledge of snow. Ushering Vanessa inside, who felt now like she was on some magical adventure, Michael switched on the electrical hanging lanterns situated between the bar's windows.

With the snow falling outside, Vanessa's eyes twinkled in the light, though she shuddered and rubbed at her arms now. 'It's like a little log cabin, isn't it?' she observed with an impressed little smile. For a moment, the younger man just stood there captivated by her.

'Oh I'm sorry,' he urged, noticing that she was cold. 'I forgot to get you your coat.'

Vanessa who had returned to hallway to retrieve her handbag, cared more about what was in the bag than getting her coat. 'It's fine,' she assured. 'It's not freezing. Either that or I'm not feeling it yet...'

'You will,' Michael humoured. 'But there's a portable heater behind the bar,' he then recalled quickly.

'That'll do the trick,' she beamed, following him to the bar, where she proceeded to line up all her fixings - tobacco, rolling papers, roach booklet, and a little plastic snappy bag filled tight to the brim with what looked like...

'What's that?' Michael asked hesitantly.

Vanessa froze, her eyes rolling up to meet his, but he was way more interested in that little snappy bag. 'Cheerios?!' she offered with a dash of sarcasm.

'What strain,' Michael rephrased disarmingly. He noted the orange flecks in the fat green buds. Fond memories immediately returned to him. 'It looks like Orange Widow if I remember right.'

Vanessa relaxed and grinned helplessly as she got to work. Michael uncoiled the heater's cable and plugged the device into the wall-socket behind the bar, and silently its fan began to whir to life, blowing the heat of the glowing elements into the still air of the shed.

'That's exactly what it is, baby,' she purred.

'Made me sleep like a baby,' he recalled fondly.

'You really are the dark horse of this family, aren't you?' she intuited. 'What did you study?'

'Clinical psychology...'

'Wow!'

Vanessa quickly made a three-paper frame, laid down a thin foundation of tobacco, and began picking at a bud to lace it with. Quietly Michael watched as she expertly rolled it together, even with her long fingernails. The so-called experts back in his day were never so quick or neat.

'So you're the brains?' she asked.

'Means nothing when you're outnumbered by stupid,' Michael sighed. But he was more interested in her handiwork. 'You're an artist,' he said, still stood behind the bar. He fell silent again as Vanessa brought up the joint to her lips and almost sensually licked the paper's gum with the smooth pink tip of her tongue. And as he did, her eyes met his again in the dim golden light.

'Plenty practice,' Vanessa belatedly dismissed, though marvelling at the quality of her own work all the same. 'Can I ask a personal question?' she then asked.

'My favourite kind,' he replied, turning the heater to face them now that it wouldn't blow tobacco and weed all over the bar.

He was the son of an uptight hairdresser and overbearing mother, and an underhanded brother, and he was smart enough to be a clinical psychologist. He was also a considerate gentleman with a mature sense of humour. And yet he had no opportunities to make good of his chosen profession and he was living at home.

Vanessa lit the end of her joint, sucked gently and inhaled, and then she offered it to Michael, who took a long drag and passed it back.

'Is it true that you're a virgin?'

Wordlessly he nodded. The smile he wore was sweet and innocent enough, but without much of a care. It was not the reaction he gave his brother or anyone else.

'And you're how old again?'

'I'm twenty-five.'

That alone made her head spin. She took another pull and savoured its sweet taste and scent, and then passed it back, blowing a thick stream of smoke - made all the hazier with the chill of the night - over the bar.

'Well, Mr Barman,' she began, 'I think it's pretty sweet, tragedy aside.'

'Tragedy,' Michael echoed, adding to the mist that now swirled around them in the warm blow of the heater beside them. 'What's the tragedy?'

'Well for one, as a man you've already passed your prime, although you have plenty years left in you,' she began. 'You're healthy and may I say handsome again?'

'Say it all you like, pretty lady-

'And thank you, barman,' she gushed. 'You're smart and funny, and before you've really experienced life amongst humans, you have the keys to the kingdom of the mind. Are you waiting for someone special?'

'I don't even know if I'm waiting,' Michael offered.

'You're not gay,' she insisted. 'That I'm certain of.' She thought about their flirtations in the kitchen and about how his eyes roved over her breasts; especially the latter. He didn't disagree.

'I just don't worry about it,' he insisted calmly. 'I just don't see a big deal.'

'Maybe you don't see a big deal because you don't know what you're missing,' Vanessa suggested with a lazy grin. 'Sex is a big deal for me. A really big deal,' she purred. It was then that Michael became aware of the gradual tightening of his pants as his cock began to swell. A smirk crossed his own face then as they shared the joint between them.

'But maybe you're in an ideal situation for something good to come along,' she thought aloud.

'You think so?'

Vanessa nodded, regarding the younger man and how his strong features coupled with his gentle demeanour became so much more appealing in the dim warm glow of the bar.

'You're mature enough to know what you want, and yet as you probably discovered already, all the single-minded girls are flocking to the cocky idiots. Sound like somebody you might know?'

Vanessa winked. Michael grinned harder. "O' brother where art thou, were the unspoken words on his lips. And instead he simply agreed. 'I see your point.'

'But if you are waiting for "the right one", the sad truth is that you tend to have to go through a few of the wrong ones in order to find her,' she added. 'I've been hurt, countless times. I got really good at the sex part though and I don't regret that,' she finalised with a cool gaze. 'But like I said, practice makes perfect. Getting into relationships late can be like learning to drive when you're forty. That's all I mean to say.'

'Is that when you learned to drive?' Michael diverted.

'No, but I've known a few people,' Vanessa said with a naughty grin. The joint burnt down to the end. Michael found a small saucer and put it down on the bar for Vanessa to use as an ashtray. 'Waiting didn't work in their favour.'

'Ready to go back?' he asked, not really wanting to. He was starting to truly deeply enjoy her company, alone.

Her eyes shifted to his with a mischievous look. 'Let's have another,' she suggested. Feeling warm and fuzzy down to his bones already, Michael laughed and turned the heater away again.

'Oh shit, everyone's going to know.'

'Does your mum not approve?'

'Not in the slightest,' Michael admitted without a care.

'But you're a free man Michael,' she told him, 'and I like your company.'

8

It was definitely getting warmer, though the snow now drifted across the bar windows in a heavy flurry. The thought had crossed Michael's mind as to how Vanessa would get home that night, if the taxis had to be called off. Still, in the moment, she stretched out of her top, leaving Michael with the heart-aching preview of the most amazing breasts he had ever seen.

It was not that warm, but as she lit the second joint, she was beginning to feel more uninhibited. And didn't the cougar know just what effect a sultry older woman had on the mind of the younger man - let alone a virgin?

Eye contact, when it was possible, was evermore magnetic and lingering under the effects of the drug and their attraction combined.

'Forgive me for asking,' Michael made small-talk to temporarily dispel the enchantment, 'but what did you want to be when you were younger?'

'What's to forgive about asking that?'

'Because there's obviously more to you than hair,' Michael explained. Immediately both of them were laughing at the absurdity of that statement.

But grabbing handfuls of the fountain of black curls atop her head, the giggling Vanessa agreed that, 'Oh I don't know about that. I have a lot of hair.' And he couldn't disagree. He loved it. Vanessa was as bouncy and sparkly in appearance as she was in spirit.

'Artist,' Michael fired from the hip, clicking his fingers, before she passed the joint back.

'I did study art and photography, well done!' Vanessa very clearly blushed that time. It was not in the colour of her skin, not even on her throat or chest, but in the way that she exclaimed so softly and shied away. 'Yes, I wanted to be a photographer, and I still enjoy it as a hobby, but it just never happened for me, no matter how hard I worked. Plus, it's expensive, and there's always something else that money ends up going to.'

'Maybe another time,' Michael cajoled.

'How long do you give that young thing your brother's with?' she asked. 'I don't think she's too taken with him.'

'April? I give her a couple weeks,' Michael supposed. 'He still has to fit in February, March, May, June, July, August...'

She snorted, crinkling her nose. 'One of those is he?'

'He likes girls, not women.'

'Could be she's just with the wrong brother,' Vanessa hinted, allowing a silence to fall between them. All the while Michael shook his head. 'Ah, you like women, not girls,' she intuited. A shy smile betrayed Michael then.

'That's a very broad generalisation.'

'How so?' she asked.

'Because I wouldn't settle for any old woman,' he said quite proudly.

Vanessa held his gaze, leaning over the bar with her elbows. That gave Michael a deeper preview of her proud assets. Very swiftly his eyes flicked down and back up, where he was ensnared again in her dark chocolate eyes.

'That's good to know. So, do you like older women, Michael?' He had either become too shy to answer or too captivated. 'Because you know the cliché that an older woman will make a man out of you?'

Michael swallowed hard with a mouthful of cotton. Shakily he took back the joint and inhaled deeply. Upon exhaling he gasped aloud. 'Yes,' he finally spoke.

'Well, Michael, sometimes that cliché is the god's honest truth and very much worth exploring, if you get the opportunity...'

Again he fell silent, lost in her eyes. Then his phone rang, utterly shattering their personal reverie. His stomach turned when he saw the name pop up. He put the phone up to his ear.

'Are you still a virgin then, bro?' his brother grunted. Loud background laughter pierced his ears.

'So says the child molester,' Michael responded without even thinking about it. It registered when Vanessa clapped a hand to her gaping mouth and began to convulse with suppressed laughter.

Aaron fell silent for a moment, but then; 'Mum says what's taking you so long? There's a party at her house in case you didn't notice...'

'We'll be back in soon,' Michael said, feeling nothing but dread. The mood was ruined.

9

Again they made their way back through the snow towards the tall house and its glowing windows. Michael was about to turn back when he realised he'd left the lanterns on in the bar. Vanessa hooked his arm under hers, tugging him flat against the side of her full breast. She assured him that she would be going back for more later, and wanting him to keep her company. With that he smiled and turned back towards the house again.

'Oh here they are,' Aaron was first to say. Michael, paranoid that they would know he was high, was easily taken aback by the look that April gave him. It wasn't just that she smiled at him. It was the nature of that smile.

Not that she looked like a crocodile, but there was a lot to be learned from a predatory gaze. But what had brought it on? Was he imagining things?

'Oooohhh,' Vanessa sighed as she sunk back into her warm seat. 'That's better.' She made eyes at Michael then.

Gaynor attempted sarcasm. 'Were you building snowmen out there or something?'

'Here, bro,' Aaron suddenly interrupted nothing at all. He'd been tugging at April's t-shirt from the back and whispering something to her. 'Keep my seat warm,' he said and dragged April off.

'Err... and where are you two going?' Vicky called after them.

'We're going for a shag, what do you think?' Aaron yelled back. Feigned laughter was had. The real stuff came out as April turned red and smacked him directly between the shoulder blades.

'What was that for?' Aaron bleated, eyes wide open in a hurt expression. And then they were gone.

'Michael,' Vicky turned to her remaining son, 'Aaron said you could have his chair.' Michael was still stood back in the same spot, warming by the radiator.

'That's nice of him,' he scoffed.

'Sit down,' she urged.

'No, I'm good, really,' he declined.

'Some people don't feel comfortable when they're sitting and you're standing,' was the general context of what Pauline then said over the space of some ten minutes, by the end of which he was desperately lagging.

'Bloody hell, Pauline, you're not a hostage,' a slow-talking and laid-back Vanessa came to his defence. 'Trust him to do what makes him comfortable. It isn't an issue is it?'

'Well,' Pauline said and hesitated.

Michael felt gratitude like never before in that situation, even with his mother rubbernecking between him and Vanessa, and then everybody else to gather if they were seeing what she was.

'Well you've been a bit frosty tonight, Michael, and that's all I'm saying,' Vicky spoke up. 'I don't know what's gotten into you.'

'You know, actually mum,' Michael started to say, moving toward the empty chair, and then as he motioned to take it - the inanimate fucking object that his arrogant brother assigned him to keep warm with his arse until his highly anticipated return - he did something he never imagined that he would, though he had dreamed of it often.

'You're right! I have been frosty, or you might say aloof, but that's because your party - as Christmas parties go - couldn't break up a funeral wake,' Michael said flatly to astonished gasps. Surprisingly it was Gordo that began to laugh, and he carried on despite Gaynor trying to slap him down.

His mother, Vicky, sat there open mouthed and shocked into silence. 'You cheeky little twat,' she yelped. Soon enough Jeff was laughing too.

'You're a fucking hairdresser and you couldn't invite a single outrageous homosexual to get people laughing and dancing. Instead you've all been sitting here, acting sober and fucking sensible, except...'

Vicky was now blushing furiously. 'Okay Michael, stop!'

'Except that you've been relying on Aaron for witty banter - Aaron who is about as funny as running a cheese grater against the underside of my bollocks. Great party, mum,' Michael said with two thumbs pricked up in her direction.

Vanessa too began to howl, then Jolene, as did Michael's own mother, though she was about to die of embarrassment.

'And for fuck's sake, mum,' the tirade continued - and now everybody's attention was focused on the round wooden coffee table sat centre of the room, where a party platter of sandwiches sat on a foil tray - 'triangular cucumber fucking sandwiches, when's the queen and her corgis arriving?'

Now Michael was waving his finger angrily, raising his voice above the laughter, and oh the perfect timing as Aaron and April returned to see what all the noise was. Aaron could not believe his eyes. Never in his life could he command such hysterics.

'Never mind me acting out of character - enough of this reckless geriatric faggotry! Put some music on and fucking dance, you wrinkly old bastards,' he ranted, to which the whole room erupted. 'I'm going for a piss and there'd better be Columbian drug mules and strippers when I get back.'

'Did you get some finally?' Aaron asked, blocking the doorway.

Michael grabbed him by the shoulders. 'No brother, and judging by your girlfriend's pale and lifeless complexion, neither did you!'

How Aaron burned...

10

'Whooooo, that perfume sure is some strong shit, Elaine,' Vanessa excused herself to leave the living room five minutes later. 'Aren't you high?' Elaine had no idea what she was saying.

That was also coincidentally the moment that Michael was coming back from the bathroom. She met him at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide with disbelief. 'They still don't seem to know what just happened,' she said.

Michael frowned questioningly, still grinning all the while. 'Give it time. Mum will be dragging me to see a priest next week.'

'Fancy another smoke?' she asked invitingly.

'Get your coat on,' Michael suggested this time.

But he had left the heater on at least. That was something. The music now playing from the dining room was something else. Lo and behold, there was dancing back there, and Michael was the cause of it.

Vanessa sidled up to the bar and began to roll another joint. This time Michael came right up to her and leaned beside her on the bar.

She offered him a wicked but lazy smile. 'Hi, do you come here often?'

'I'm the barman, remember?' he began, and didn't intend to finish.

'Mmhhh, you're that fine young thing, I remember now,' she purred her response.

Any response to that would have been corny. Michael didn't dare ruin the atmosphere that this woman's sweet and smoky tones elicited. He didn't know if she was trying to come across as seductive, but that's what she was.

'You got very confident in there,' she said, almost to herself, as she groomed the sticky buds of the Orange Widow. Again she rolled up the joint and ran the moist tip of her tongue down the sticky shaft, eyes fixed on his. 'To say the least...'

'I am kinda high,' Michael admitted.

'Oh my god,' she whispered, and confided, 'I was about to ask you if you'd ever had sex when you were high, and I remembered...'

Michael laughed to himself, and reminded that he was hopeless in such instances, did only that. 'It's good! Oh it's really good!' she insisted. 'Like have you ever been close to someone and you got all filled up with butterflies?'

Michael recalled, yes there had been moments similar. 'I had a girlfriend once. We were only together for a month...'

'A month and nothing happened?' Vanessa looked like she was about to faint suddenly, but of course she was playing, or dramatising.

'She was weird,' Michael explained. 'It got hot and heavy a couple times but she was very pushy and insecure and I'm glad it never happened. Nobody needs to hear that story. I did get mad butterflies kissing her though.'

'Well fuck her!' Vanessa snapped and then broke into another reverie. 'You know those butterflies when you're getting hot and heavy and you can't breathe and you're shaking?' Michael nodded along enthusiastically. Vanessa lit the joint and offered it to him. 'Feels good doesn't it?'

'Like pleasure and fear mingled together,' he recalled.

'Yes! But there is nothing fucking sexier than the feel of butterflies when you're too relaxed to care or worry about anything,' she insisted lazily. Michael had her attest to that. 'Even better when it makes you horny like it makes me,' she said breathily, arching her eyebrows slightly.

'Wow,' he remarked with honest intrigue.

'Everything feels better. Kissing, touching, hmmm... licking and sucking...'

Now she was laying on the seduction foreplay. She'd have been the world's worst tease if she wasn't. To test her, Michael accused her anyway. 'You are a terrible tease,' he gasped.

'What?' she begged. 'I love it and I love talking about it...'