Tottenham

Remember the Tottenham Riots, I do, that’s when I bought Katherine….

I grew up in Derbyshire England, at Harthope Hall high on the shoulders of the Pennine hills that row of aspiring mountains the call the backbone of England.

Dad was butler to Lord Harthope, the fifteenth Baron Harthope to be pedantic, but dad buttled for him and mum did some cleaning and waitressing when they had guests and filled in for cook when she was too hung over to make breakfast and I knew my place, bowing to the Lord came naturally, bowing to his daughter Katherine less so.

She could have been beautiful if she had learned how to smile, but no, a snarl was about the best one could expect when she was not actually scowling, blue eyes, shoulder length blonde hair, high firm breasts, aristocratic cheek bones and a scowl like she had just been hit in the face by a dog turd.

She was a year younger than me, privately educated of course and kept well away from me at all times, for fear of being contaminated by common people probably, but while we had played together as children it certainly was not the doctor and nurses play, and even more definitely not skinny dipping in the river Hart, though to be fair you really needed a duffle coat under your wet suit before plunging into the Hart’s freezing waters, which felt like ice was forming even in a heatwave.

She was a bit of an afterthought, Colin, 42, Joseph 41, Jane 39 and Katherine 19 summed up Lady Harthope’s regrettable decision to stop taking the pill too soon at 40 years old and for 19 years Katherine could do no wrong.

It all changed on August 6th.

I was cleaning the plugs on my MGF, it only cost £ 500 because it was clapped out, and it did about 100 miles to a pint of oil and twice that between sets of plugs, and Dad came down to find me, “Lordship wants you up at the house,” he says.

“Well fuck him,” I said, “I don’t work for him.”

“Lives in his house though don’t you,” Dad says, “He said now.”

“Right,” I said wiping my oily hands on my coveralls, “I’ll go straight away.”

Dad called after me, “You need to get washed and changed first!”

“Fuck him!” I muttered and I hurried round to the Hall entering through the front door where tradesmen and lower orders like myself were never allowed to go.

“Ah Henderson!” Lord Harthope spluttered, spilling his coffee all over his suit, “Good of you to come so promptly, its Katherine.”

“Cassie,” Lady Harthope added.

“Spot of bother,” he said, “On TV, Tottenham don’t you know.”

“Throwing a TV through the window at JJB sport.” Lady Harthope added, “Stupid girl.”

“Right,” I argeed, “So why, what,” I said forgetting to say My Lord, “How?”

“Get down there find her, get her home,” he said abruptly.

“Why me?” I asked.

“Because they’re people like you, you’ll fit in,” she said, “We can hardly send Colin.”

No because he hasn’t been sober since 2001 I thought.

“Right, of course, but,” I agreed.

“There’s a five litre can of oil in the garage and,” he paused, “Here’s five hundred quid, expenses, will you go now?”

“Right, lets Google JJB sports Tottenham and get a handle on where she might be.” I suggested.

“Oh,” said Lady Harthope condescendingly, “That is a good idea.”

“I’ll do that you get your damned car going,” the Lord added, before I could suggest he lent me one of his so I trousered the cash and headed for the car.

I stuck the plugs back in topped up the oil with his Lordship’s oil tossed the oil can in the boot behind the engine, and when Lord Hathhope brought me a print out of JJBs location I headed for London 140 miles, two hours of watching the temperature climbing and oil pressure dropping, M1, M25 it’s all right for you lot with smart BMWs with sat nav but me, well its a battered London A to Z and a torch, anyway by some miracle I found Tottenham, super, smashing, great.

Well I wasn’t going to find her was I?

I couldn’t get anywhere near the JJB sports shop, the whole place was in uproar with all these black guys pushing shopping trolleys full of looted goods away from the areas where I could see fires burning, I didn’t want to get too far from the car in case they torched it and I didn’t want to get too close to the trouble and basically felt like a useless prat, albeit one richer by four hundred quid even after paying for petrol.

I hunkered down in the seat turned the motor off and tried to sleep.

Suddenly there was a shout, “Henderson? what the fuck are you doing here.”

It was Katherine, all dishevelled, hair straggling everywhere, mascara smeared, against all the odds it was Katherine, very drunk with about seven of the biggest ugliest black guys I ever saw.

And there I was in a canvas top two seat sports car.

“You were on TV, at JJB sports.” I said, “Daddy sent me.”

“Your father?” she asked drunkenly.

“No yours,” I said.

“Whats that?” probably the ugliest of the guys demanded.

“She was on TV a few hours ago trashing JJB,” I said, “Her old man sent me.”

This is where she was supposed to leap in the car and let me whisk her away, “Wanker!” she snapped, “Just fuck off ok.”

“Ok, I agreed, but when I turned the key there was just a dimming of the instrument lights, I had fallen asleep with the lights on, “Any chance of a push?” I asked and amazingly two guys just shoved the car from nothing to ten mph faster than it had ever accelerated before, I found a gear let go the clutch and I was rolling, and I damned near kept going to Derby except there was an orange light and no oil pressure.

I crept around at like 20 mph until I found a down ramp where I could do a bump start and stopped to top up the oil, it fired up as it rolled for a bump start and finally guiltily I retraced my steps to find Katherine.

She hadn’t gone far, she was sitting against a wall obviously very drunk, and she was now drinking Cider from a two litre plastic bottle surrounded by black guys, different ones as far as I could tell, I drove by, back tracked and drove by again, and then turned round and, well you get the idea I hadn’t got a clue.

They made a move, simply by walking out in the road stopping me. “What gives?” they asked.

“Uh,” I said helpfully.

“You wanna fuck the girl?” a weasly little black guy asked.

“Yeah, right,” I agreed.

“Two hundred notes bro,” he added.

“Right,” I said and pulled the wad of notes from my pocket.

“That’ll do,” he said, grabbing the whole wad, “Hey bring that bitch here,” he added.

She stumbled towards me in confusion, I opened the door, she peered in at me, “Get in.” I ordered and she did, that’s when I saw she had lost her knickers as her short skirt rode up revealing the tops off her hold up stockings and then as she stepped into the car over the high sill there was her pink shaved pubes.

Her moist pink pubes leaking black mans cum. I felt sick, genuinely nauseous, so did she, judging by the tide of stale cider and vindaloo she vomited all over her feet and legs and into the passenger side footwell. Super, smashing, great. The smell, my god!

I gunned the engine, maybe two and a half cylinders responded, and we spluttered away, as the bloody plugs oiled again.

Thank god an MGF has a canvass top!, just as soon as I could I pulled over and lowered the top, great, wind in the hair time except Katherine tried to climb out saying she needed to get back to her friends.

Luckily I had an aerolastic elastic strap and it wasn’t too difficult to wrap it around her wrists despite her protests and so as the early morning sun blazed down and I set off north for the M25 and M1 to head for home so the MG god smiled at me and gradually the other cylinder chimed in and we purred along with only the faintest smoke cloud wafting from the exhaust to show how clapped out the motor was.

We arrived back home just before nine.

Lady Harthope rushed out as I swept up to the house, and she gasped as she saw the state Katherine was in, “Why didn’t you ring!” she demanded of me as if I actually had a cell phone that worked.

“Hello Mummy!” Katherine greeted her as if nothing had happened.

“Katherine!” her mother cried and added “Ugh!” as she saw the congealed vomit, and then as I slipped off the elastic strap and Katherine tried to climb out of the car her mother shrieked “Katherine!” even louder as the short minidress rode up again revealing her hairless vagina.

“Ah well done,” Lord Harthope added as he joined us, “Don’t suppose you spent the whole bundle.”

“Well,” I said awkwardly.

“Consider it payment,” he said and they wandered into the house leaving me alone and abandoned.

I just got indoors when Dad came rushing in, “What the hell have you done!” he asked.

“What?” I asked.

“Dragging the poor girl from her flat, driving like a lunatic and raping her,” he added, “I just heard her tell his Lordship, you better make yourself scarce Stephen.”

“What!” I demanded, “The lying bitch!” but I didn’t hang around I had friends in Sheffield so thats where I went.

Luckily she didn’t go to the police with her ridiculous claims, but it was made very plain to dad that I was no longer welcome at Harthope.

Winter came quickly, round about the middle of September actually when Uni started again and that’s when I met Katherine, very unexpectedly she came to my digs, well it was a tiny self contained one bedroom flat half way up a grey anonymous medium rise block where the stairwells stink of piss and the lifts never work.

“Hi, I’m pregnant.” she announced, as she flounced past as I innocently opened the door, “It must be yours.”

I almost collapsed in shock, but regaining my composure I belatedly said, “Come in.”

She was softer now, less make up, neatly dressed, hair groomed, skirt to her knees, she probably had knickers on, “Can you sub me a few thou to get rid?” she asked as she stepped inside.

“You don’t remember do you?” I asked.

“No, but you must have.” she said.

“Oh no,” I exclaimed, “It’s not mine, and its an odds on cert it’s black.”

She stared horrified, “Your pimp sold you for five hundred quid,” I added, “And I never even got to fuck you.”

“No!” she said, “You dragged me from my flat and.”

“Raped you in my MG, there isn’t room,” I explained.

“But when I got home,” she insisted, “You must have!”

“You were so drunk,” I reminded her, “You trashed JJB sports remember?” she shook her head, “With your black friends,” she looked blank, “Who pimped you out to me?” she looked away.

“Oh, bollocks!” she said, “I thought that was just a bad dream.”

“No sorry,” I said feeling genuinely sorry.

“Oh fucking hell I remember, oh fuck Henderson, what are we going to do?” she asked.

“Whats with the we?” I asked, “This is your cock up,” and seeing she was upset I asked “Coffee?”

“I need something stronger,” she pleaded.

“Black coffee.” I agreed.

“Mummy said you must have raped me.” she continued as I filled the kettle for a coffee.

“Uh, no, although I did pay your pimp about four hundred and thirty pounds to screw you,” I suggested.

“Really, you thought I was worth that much, I had no idea.” she wittered, “Were you lusting after me all the time at home?” she asked her mind racing, “You could have raped me any time!”

“Really?” I said, “You wouldn’t have minded?”

“Of course I would have minded, I mean I should have been frightened,” she replied.

“But you don’t mind black cocks in you?” I asked.

“They are exciting, vibrant, real people from under privileged backgrounds,” she said.

“Like me except I don’t trash the place.” I explained, as I poured water onto the instant coffee in the mugs.

“But you grew up in a wonderful beautiful place.” she said.

“They have mates around, I never saw anyone outside of school,” I countered, “And there’s Libraries and Universities and everything on their doorstep.”

“Well you’re boring.” she said disparagingly.

“I did drive a hundred miles through the night to rescue you,” I said as I handed her the coffee.

“Yuck,” she said as she sipped it, “Instant.”

“Milk?” I asked.

“Actual coffee would have been nice,” she replied, “But I’ll live,” she sipped at the hot black liquid and I imagined those same lips wrapped around a hot black cock, “You’re staring!” she said.

“Sorry,” I replied.

“My bump, can you sub me?” she asked, changing tack, “Or maybe Daddy can find a new butler?”

“You bloody bitch!” I countered, “You bloody bitch, thats blackmail!”

“I am rather desperate,” she admitted, “All’s fair and all that.”

“I’ll sell the car,” I said, “That should raise a few quid, and I know a med student.”

“Ugh no way!” she snapped, “I need this done properly!”

“Discreetly more like,” I countered, “But yes, I’ll sell the car and pay Al to sort you out.”

It wasn’t huge sacrifice, I couldn’t afford the insurance or road tax anyway.

“Really!” she said, “I need about fifteen hundred.”

“Al usually charges about two fifty, the car should raise three hundred, and I’ll need fifty to buy a push bike,” I explained, she looked worried.

“Look I don’t want to die.” she said earnestly her big blue eyes boring into me.

“Al’s a good lad, you don’t want a black kid do you?” I asked. She shook her head.

“I’ll set it up.” I said, “Give me a ring tomorrow,” and I scribbled down my phone number.

Some fool paid seven hundred quid for the MGF when I advertised it in Tesco, and I had the cash within three days, Katherine seemed almost grateful when I rang her and we agreed to meet at McDonalds.

She came round the flat about three weeks later, she rang to say she was coming, I thought she came to say thanks but no, “It was horrible,” she informed me, “What if I can’t have children now!” she demanded as if I was responsible.

“Al’s a good bloke,” I said as if i knew what I was on about, “There shouldn’t be a problem.”

“And sex, what if?” she left the question hanging, “What if it hurts?”

“One way to find out,” I said jokingly an reached for my belt.

“Yes, all right,” she replied, “I expect it will be all right.”

“I was joking,” I said.

“No seriously, you see,” she paused, “I like big black cocks.”

“Ah, so my little white one won’t hurt a bit?” I queried.

“I hope not,” she said, “And you won’t tell will you?”

“No because nothing is happening,” I insisted.

“I’ll scream rape,” she said reasonably.

“Ok, I agreed, “The bedroom’s through there, I’ll get a wash,” I agreed thinking the whole thing was surreal.

I stripped completely, well it seemed the surreal thing to do, and I found the black Condom I had saved from the selection pack and after a few moments I bounded out of the bathroom to confront her with my semi erect black clad cock contrasting with my pale pink torso.

I stopped dead, she was entirely naked, sitting on the bed with her hands between her legs looking at me with those big blue eyes, and as she moved her hands away and I saw her hairless pink cunt all glistening where she had been fingering herself to get ready for me, I felt this tingling and suddenly instead of a semi my tool stiffened into a real hard on.

“Oh bloody hell Stephen,” she said, “It’s huge!”

“Sorry,” I lied.

“It’s bigger than,” she paused remembering she didn’t know her black lover’s names, “I mean it’s too big!”

“It’ll be ok,” I said and I placed my hands on her shoulders and pushed her back onto the bed, my knees slid between her knees and I put my left arm across her chest holding her down and guided my swollen tool inside her with my right hand.

“It hurts!” she lied as I eased inside her, “It hurts.”

“I thought you liked a big black cock?” I joked, but it wasn’t a joking matter, as with her beautiful blonde eyes boring into me and her golden hair spread over the bed sheets I was already struggling to stop myself shooting my load.

At last I found my cock all the way inside her, my balls banging against her crotch with every thrust, she smelled good, felt good, her skin felt right against my skin, I looked at her, she was smiling, her lips parted slightly, “It’s ok.” she said.

I tried to concentrate on MGF camshafts as I ploughed her, “Are you ready to cum?” she taunted me, “Want to change positions?”

“No,” I muttered through gritted teeth as I hovered on the brink.

“You smell nice.” she said.

“Engine oil,” I explained.

“No, nice nice,” she said, “You want to tell me you love me?” she asked hopefully.

“I’d be lying,” I admitted.

“Nice lies,” she said, “Mmm, kiss me.”

It was too good an invitation to pass up and I took her cheeks in my hands and kissed her lips.

“You’re too beautiful,” I admitted and quite suddenly I was twitching and pumping and my mind exploded in helpless orgasmic delirium.

I lay across her, “Stephen you’re squashing me,” she said so I pulled out, the condom looked to be in a poor way as it clung wetly to my shaft and I saw to my horror it was split all down one side, “You pig!” she squealed when she realised, “No wonder it felt so good.”

“Sorry, it came from a novelty pack,” I said limply.

“Oh well, I know who to see now,” she said, “You want to do it again?”

“Sure, next week?” I asked.

“Now?” she suggested.

“Sure,” I agreed, I looked at her perfect tits and long blonde hair, her teeth were not quite even I noticed, “I’ll get a rubber.”

“It’s a bit late for that,” she said, “From behind, doggie please,” she said and added “Not anal,” as an afterthought.

“Who put you in charge,” I asked, but the sight of her bending over the bed end was irresistible and I came up behind her and slid back into her invitingly hot wet box.

“That’s good,” she said, “That’s better than good, ohhhh.”

I had my hands on her breasts feeling, kneading her rubbery nipples, nuzzling her neck and it felt good to me too, really good, it was all over far too soon as my poor balls struggled to find some more cum to pump inside her and then quite suddenly I had shot my load and the moment was gone.

“Stephen,” she said as I pulled out of her, “You didn’t say anything.”

“What do you want poetry?” I asked

“Say something nice,” she grumbled.

“What, like I love you?” I suggested, “A meaningless platitude.”

“If you like,” she agreed, and I went to the tiny bathroom to get cleaned up.

She waited naked on the bed while I cleaned up and only then went to wash herself, and she came back still naked without even a towel around her.

“Am I beautiful Stephen?” she asked as she posed in the doorway.

“When you smile,” I agreed, “When you smile,” I wondered why she asked, “Why?”

“No reason,” she replied, “You want to do it again?”

“Ah, not right now,” I demurred.

“Spoilsport!” she retorted, and she went to get dressed, “Oh well at least we are even.”

“Even?” I asked.

“Well you paid four hundred pounds to fuck me,” she said, “And.”

“Hold on, that was for your family, I wouldn’t have paid otherwise!” I explained.

“So how much was that worth?” she asked.

“Ten,” I suggested, meaning it was a ten out of ten.

“So that means about fifty more fucks until we’re even.” she suggested.

“No, I mean,” I said, “No, it’s not about being even.”

“Pity,” she said, “Oh well never mind.”

She dressed with the rapidity of a prostitute, smiled at me and slipped away into the evening.

It was the following Sunday that she rang me, at half past six in the morning, “Stephen,” she whispered, “Can you come over?”

“Why?” I asked.

“I think I’ve been raped,” she said, “My eye hurts and.”

“Address, give me the address.” I demanded.

It was two fucking miles away, I ran, no buses no car and it had to be quicker and safer than the local Halal Taxi service, eventually I found it, she shared a house, and she was sitting in the downstairs room with a black eye.

“He hit me!” she sobbed, “Anton!”

“Call the Police,” I suggested.

“I can’t Mummy will kill me,” she whined.

“So where is he?” I asked.

“Upstairs,” she said, “Sleeping.”

“Super smashing great,” I said, “So what am I supposed to do about it?”

“He hit me!” she reiterated.

“So?” I enquired.

“Do something!” she shouted and suddenly there were grunts from upstairs, “Oh god.”

“Hey get yo ass up here!” a rather false west indian accented voice ordered.

“Ah no thanks, I prefer girls,” I replied in the poshest accent I could muster, “I’m afraid I don’t believe we have been introduced, I’m Giles, Katherine’s fiancee.” I lied as I prepared my escape.

“Bitch, you’ve been two timing me,” he said with the accent slipping as he reverted to public school vowels, and then there he was at the bottom of the stairs dressed only in his string vest and Y front underpants.

Fortunately in my tracksuit I looked pretty classless and he squared up to me, bigger, stronger, faster, uglier, and definitely more stupider, if stupider is a word, than I.

“I thought you said his name was Stephen?” he said.

“Giles Stephens, Katherine’s fiancee,” I reiterated, “Pleased to meet you Mr?”

“She said your cock was bigger than mine, said you was better in the sack,” he accused.

“So?” I asked.

“That’s why I hit her, the bitch.” he explained.

“But why hit her?” I asked.

“He keeps cumming before I’m ready,” she explained awkwardly, “It’s bloody frustrating.”

“So why is it my problem?” I asked.

“Because you spoiled it for me,” she said, “With your huge cock.”

“Look,” I said trying to disarm the situation, “It’s not that big,” but Katherine’s nightdress had ridden up revealing her pubes and it was obvious from the bulge in my pants that I was lying.

“It’s not the size it’s what one does with it!” I explained.

“Oh no, it’s the size that matters,” she argued, “I can hardly feel poor Anton’s cock after you ripped me wide open.”

“I think you are seriously screwed up!” Anton suddenly announced, “I’m sorry I hit you, but honestly you’re sick,” he said as he too spotted her pubes and his tool bulged out the front of his Y fronts.

“Oh boys!” Katherine gasped, “You do seem pleased to see me!”

“You are sick!” I agreed.

“Oh let me see, I need to know,” she said, “Is your cock really bigger than Anton’s?”

I knew it wasn’t so I slipped my tracksuit bottoms down and she stared.

Anton stared, “This is ridiculous!” he said.

“I’ll get a ruler.” she said.

“And a Micrometer,” I said, I meant a vernier caliper but he still took a swing at me, tripped over the coffee table and knocked over the TV.

Katherine rushed across to him as if to help him up but instead she yanked down his Y fronts and exclaimed, “Oh gosh, Stephen, I mean, Giles, you’re much bigger!”

“This is ridiculous!” I complained.

“You’re sick!” Anton chided.

“But yours is bigger round and longer Stephen,” she said admiringly.

“To be quite honest I don’t care,” I lied, it was like being thirteen again with cock contests in the showers at school.

“Sorry Anton,” she said, fucking sorry she was the one with the black eye.

He stared at me with sheer hate, “You really shouldn’t have,” he said and he pulled his Y fronts up and scurried from the room.

“What the hell?” I asked.

“It’s your fault,” Katherine said, and she gently grasped my cock in her fist, “He looks cold, I know where he could get warm.”

“You are completely impossible,” I insisted but I didn’t resist as she found enough clear floor area to lie down and guided me into her moist pink softness.

“I like a bit of rough,” she said quietly.

“What?” I asked, “A black eye?”

“No, good honest working class cock!” she replied, “Now make me cum.”

“No,” I refused, “Don’t just lie there you make me cum.”

“I just love it when you talk dirty,” she said, “I ohhhh, really, oh thats right, yes more,”
she said and then there was just warmth and her breathing and softness as she wrapped her legs around me urging me ever deeper inside her.

“That was,” she said finally as I stilled with the relief of orgasm, the ripples of intense pleasure fading as I shot my load within her, “Not bad at all.”

“It was bloody intense,” I admitted, “Really bloody intense.”

“Painful, remember to use a bed next time,” she laughed, “The floor digs in my back.”

“Next time?” I asked.

“Oh yes, we could make it a regular thing?” she suggested, “As long as Daddy doesn’t find out.”

“Fine,” I agreed, “Bit of rough.”

“Oh yes, nothing more, just sex, all right?” she asked.

“Just sex,” I agreed, “That sounds good to me.”

I looked deep into her eyes, she smiled, her face lit up and as i reached out to her a key scraped in the front door lock.

“Oh fuck!” she exclaimed, “It’s Lucy, or Alice, my housemates.”

It was both of them, both hung over after the night before, returning home mid morning after a now forgotten night of booze and sex, they stumbled into the hall way and Lucy fell over as Alice stopped abruptly as she saw us in the parlour.

“Cassie, what happened to the TV?” she exclaimed as I tried to drag my tracksuit bottoms over my still hard tool, “And who’s the boyfriend?” she said.

“Steve,” she said awkwardly, “His family works for us.”

“He certainly works for me!” Alice announced, “Were you guys about to, you know, on the couch?”

“No, we just used the floor thanks,” I assured her, “Its just sex we aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend or anything.”

“He’s mine, hands off,” Katherine insisted.

“Do you two want any breakfast?” Lucy enquired diplomatically.

“Mine’s a sausage,” Katherine insisted, “Shall we go upstairs?”

“Are you insatiable?” I asked.

“Yes!” she admitted, “Are you coming?”

How could I resist?

She had one of those three quarters beds, not a double but wider than a single, absolutely ideal for lovers although two could sleep in it if necessary, but sleep was the last thing on my mind as I followed her to the bed room, she undressed as quickly as I did and then she switched out the light and in the heavy curtained darkness we embraced and kissed.

“No strings,” she said as she pushed me back on the bed and straddled me.

“None at all,” I agreed as she slowly sank her gossamer smooth vagina down over my straining cock until she was completely filled and than she gasped as she started to grind against me.

“Ohhhh, Steve, that’s so good,” she cooed, “I love it!”

“No strings,” I warned, “I love yours too,” and we laughed and drifted off to where our minds go when everything seems perfect.

We got up around four, an hours sex followed by hours of her talking about her plans, her dog, her car, her mother, her aunt, it was horribly like being married, but a finger tip in her vagina silenced her every time, even if I wasn’t really ready to perform again.

“Your skin’s so smooth,” she said, “Like a baby’s, Anton’s was like sandpaper.”

“Manly,” I suggested.

“Like being pawed by a Rhinoceros,” she said, “No I want a nice smooth skinned black guy with a cock like yours.”

“I could black up like the old minstrels, overdose on a sunbed?” I suggested.

“Sorry,” she said, “But you’ll do for now.”

=============================================

I didn’t hear from her for almost a week and then around ten to midnight on Saturday she rings me.

“I need cock.” she said.

“On my way.” I agreed and I set off at a brisk walk or slow jog.

There was a black three series BMW outside her house and raised voices, “No!” Katherine was saying, I knocked politely.

“Fuck off,” a Carribean accented voice ordered.

“It’s not locked,” Katherine insisted so I walked in, she was sitting on the couch in her underwear, he was standing over her stripped to the waist

“You don’t learn do you?” I challenged her.

“He won’t go,” she said.

“You had your fun now go,” I told the black guy.

“What fun?” he asked, “Prick tease!”

“She does that,” I agreed, “She only got you round to make me jealous.”

“So what you going to do?” he asked.

“Watch,” I suggested.

“Pervert,” he snapped and he started to pull his tee shirt on.

“I’ll have a coffee,” I suggested, “You want one?”

He never even answered me, he just dressed and slunk past me and slipped out of the door.

“What an ass hole!” Katherine exclaimed, “He didn’t even get hard, he wanted me to suck him!”

“Great,” I agreed, “Do you want cock or not?”

“Not,” she said, “Sorry.”

I made coffee, instant coffee and poured myself a cup, “You want some?” I asked.

“I said no!” she reminded me, “Oh, you mean Coffee?”

“Yes,” I agreed, “You already turned me down for the other.”

“And that’s it?” she asked, “Take it or leave it?”

“If you want it, well just say,” I suggested.

“Look, well, I just thought you might, you know, not take no for answer?” she suggested.

“That is what the legal profession call rape,” I explained.

“So, aren’t I worth it?” she asked.

“No!” I said flatly.

“Oh,” she said, “I see.”

“No you don’t,” I pointed out, “You want it all ways and it’s not going to happen.”

“How about if I sign something?” she said hopefully.

“What, like a Pre Fuck, sort of a Pre Nup for bonking?” I suggested.

“Yes!” she agreed.

“Not worth the paper it’s written on.” I explained, “Either we have sex or we don’t, your call.”

“Well, how can a girl resist a chat up line like that,” she agreed, “Shall we go upstairs?”

“Here is fine,” I suggested, maybe we should have drawn the blinds but we moved the cereal boxes to make a space on the kitchen table and she simply slipped her knickers off and lay down.

“Did the earth move?” I asked as I eased inside her.

“No but the table did, get off we’re too heavy for it.” she complained.

It was too late, there was a sickening sound of rending wood and the whole thing collapsed.

She was ok, I sort of held her, gently guided her down as the table keeled over and then when it stopped collapsing I carried on humping her, “Stop,” she protested.

“You said you wanted it rough,” I reminded her.

“Not that rough!” she protested, “Get off me,”

There was this blinding flash, it took a moment to realise but Alice or was it Lucy had taken a picture of us with her mobile phone, “Get off her you brute!” she shouted and she switched to video mode.

“It’s fine she likes it rough,” I insisted and someone hit me over the head with a jug which broke and showered us with sticky orange juice.

“Ali, what did you do that for?” Katherine demanded, “Jees what does a girl have to do to get a half decent fuck?”

“He’s raping you!” she protested.

“No the table collapsed and I’m lying in a pool of milk,” Katherine explained, “You do know Steve don’t you? he works for us.”

“Steve Henderson, Gigolo.” I announced theatrically.

“Oh, yes,” she said, “Well you better have this mess cleared up by the morning.

We didn’t, we went to Katherines room and finished what we started and slept soundly.

Alice and Lucy were very annoyed with us and I guess that’s why Alice put the video of us on You Tube and the still on Facebook.

It was a pain in the butt, we weren’t an item, just two buddies getting laid but soon everyone knew we were together.

She rang me one Thursday, “Steve you need to get over here right now,” she ordered.

“What’s wrong Cassie?” I asked.

“I can’t tell you over the phone,” she said very mysteriously, “Mummy saw the video,” she said, “Please you have to come over.”

I went straight away, she had been crying, “Mummy went ballistic,” she said as I walked in.

“Hey, it will be fine,” I said and I touched her arm to comfort her, and went to embrace her.

“Steve, no, don’t touch me!” she said angrily, “This is serious!”

“Ok, but people know now, where’s the problem?” I asked, “We can be more open can’t we?”

“No,” she said, “It’s not that, it’s over.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Don’t you see, don’t you feel something inside?” she asked.

“Yes of course, I do, we make love, we’re lovers effectively, so I guess it’s love,” I said innocently.

“Yes, she said, “Mummy was bonking your father.”

“Really, no wonder I fancy you, it’s genetic!” I agreed, “Who would have thought it the randy old bastard.”

“Nine months before I was born,” she added, “Work it out!”

“Are you sure,” I asked, “Of course you are, your mother said didn’t she?”

“Yes, she’s,” she explained, “Absolutely, well you know.”

“Oh Jesus christ,” I agreed, then I looked at her, “You have your fathers eyes,” I said, “We get DNA tests tomorrow ok.”

“And then?” she asked.

“It’s a whole new ball game,” I suggested, and that’s when I remembered the college had our blood groups on file, so we went to her room and checked on her Laptop.

It was inconclusive, we checked the web sites and we could be related, we drank coffee, we talked it seemed strange, usually we just fucked when we were together but this was different and eventually we found an online DNA testing service which was still taking calls at 11 p.m. and arranged for them to send a testing kit by courier.

I walked home, it seemed wrong, usually I was tired, but tonight I was just totally frustrated and worried and I went to bed and lay awake for hours.

Katherine found me in the library at lunch time the next day, the kit just needed a swab from inside the mouth which was better than needing half a pint of blood or a sample of sperm so I gave a sample there and then and it was just a case of waiting.

She rang the next evening and we talked for hours, and the evening after that, and the third day she asked me to come over.

“It’s ok,” she said as we sat in separate armchairs facing each other, “Steve, we aren’t related.”

“Right,” I agreed, “I don’t know what to say,” I joked, “I quite like the idea of having a sister.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “It was good, you know, talking.”

“We can still talk,” I suggested, “But better still we can still fuck.”

“Is that all I am to you!” she demanded, “Something to fuck!”

“I think its the other way around Katherine,” I pointed out, “I’m the hired cock.”

“It is a nice cock,” she agreed.

“So suck it,” I said.

“What!” she demanded.

“Suck me off, show me what you can do,” I suggested.

“No way!” she said, “No way.”

“You would if you loved me,” I reminded her.

“You wouldn’t ask if you loved me!” she replied.

“Touche!” I agreed, “Bed then?”

“It’s my period,” she said.

“So suck me off,” I demanded, “It’s the least you can do.”

She threw me out and I got as far as the front door before the phone rang, it was her mother so I hung around.

“We had the test results and we aren’t brother and sister,” Katherine told her, “So we don’t have to stop seeing each other,” Katherine explained, “Because he has a lovely big cock if you must know,” she added in answer to some other question, “No I’m not going to marry him or have his children,” she insisted, “It’s just sex like you and Henderson.”

“Not even if I ask you nicely?” I asked as I came to stand behind her.

“You could try,” she agreed

“Will you suck me off?” I asked.

“No!” she repeated and then she relented, “Yes, if I must,” she agreed, and then she spoke into the phone, “Sorry, got to go Steve needs me,”she said and she clicked the phone shut.

“Does that we are engaged or something if I suck you off?” she asked.

“Yes, I guess it makes us boyfriend and girlfriend.” I agreed.

“And you’ll stay the night?” she asked.

“Yes, if you want,” I agreed.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she said, “I half hoped, you know, because we could be friends.”

“I thought we are friends, lovers, friends,” I suggested.

“Yes,” she agreed, “I’ll use my hands, OK.?”

“Blow job,” I insisted.

“I’ll wank you and kiss you at the same time,” she offered.

“Sounds like we have a deal,” I agreed.

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