Author: Akiko

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I turned the phone face down, pushed the earbuds in and put on a podcast about Roman roads. A very calm man explained how they drained the foundations.

It didn’t work. Under his voice, the wall kept up its soft private noises, the creak, a sharp breath, and my cock stayed rigid against my belly. I pinched myself. I thought about the gas bill. I did not think about the red knickers on the radiator.

At some point I slept.

At twenty to seven the light was grey and my erection was so hard it hurt. I took out the earbuds. The bathroom shower was running, and over it Jess was singing.

I got up for a pee and found the bathroom door ajar, the mirror steamed. The shape behind the frosted glass was pale and curved, an arm lifting, soap sliding over a heavy breast.

“Tom?” she called, not turning. She’d heard the floorboard. “Is that you? Can you pass me a towel? I’m so sorry, I’ve forgotten mine.”

I took one off the rail. She slid the screen open a few inches, dripping, and took it. Her eyes dropped to the tent in my shorts and stayed there.

“Oh,” she said. Then, very quietly: “Hannah’s not home till eight.”

The shower kept running between us. I heard the front gate, a click that was only the wind. Her wet hand rested on the towel, not wrapping it round her.

→ I say no, and go and wait for Hannah to come home

→ I step inside the shower with her

← Back

I typed: I’m awake. And I heard you before. Sorry.

Three dots. Then: DON’T be sorry. i thought i was being quiet

You weren’t.

oh my god. what did you hear

I looked at the wall. I could picture her on the other side, six inches away, phone lighting her face.

Everything, I wrote. Your breathing. A little “oh”. I haven’t been able to think about anything else.

A long pause. Then: tom. i’m in my knickers with my hand down them. is that ok

My cock jumped. I pushed the duvet off and wrote, Tell me what you’re doing.

She told me. In detail, with typos. Two fingers, slow, circling, imagining it was me. I told her I was holding myself, hard and leaking, and what I’d do if the wall wasn’t there. Bend her over. Lick her until she begged. Fuck her slowly with my hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.

The wall began to knock, tap, tap, tap, her knuckles, then the whole headboard, rhythmic, bumping against the plaster behind my head. I heard her moan, really moan, and matched every stroke.

My phone lit up with a second thing at the top of the screen.

FaceTime: HANNAH (Work).

Then Jess again: come in here. please. i’m so close.

The wall kept knocking. Hannah’s face, on her break, was calling me.

→ I ignore Hannah’s call and stay in bed with Jess

→ I answer Hannah’s call

← Back

I took my hand out of her knickers. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

“Jess. Stop. I can’t.”

For a second she just stared at me, lips swollen, vest up round her armpits. Then it hit her. She slid down off the counter, tugged the vest down and pressed both hands over her face.

“Oh God. Oh God, I’m so sorry. That was me. I started it. I put my hand on you.” She laughed, and it cracked in the middle. “I’m such a mess, Tom. I just wanted someone to want me for five minutes.”

“I do want you,” I said, which wasn’t helping. “That’s the problem. It’s Hannah. It’s you and Hannah. I can’t do that to her.”

“No. No, you’re right. You’re a good man. I hate it.” She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. Her curls had come loose, and a freckled breast was still half out of the neckline, and I will go to my grave remembering how much I wanted to put my mouth on it.

She sank onto the sofa in the next room and hugged a cushion. Her knees were drawn up. Her bare thighs, and the damp patch between them, were very much on show.

“Can you just sit with me?” she said. “Not like that. Just so I don’t feel like a slag.”

The kitchen light buzzed. I could go up. Or I could sit.

→ I sit with her and hold her

→ I tell her it was a mistake and go upstairs

← Back

I picked her up, legs round my waist, and carried her up the stairs with her mouth on my neck. We tiptoed past our bedroom door like teenagers. She was giggling into my shoulder, which made it worse. Or better.

The spare room smelled of her: coconut, perfume, warm sheets. Her suitcases were open on the floor, bras spilling out. I laid her on the double bed, pulled off her knickers and just looked at her. Soft thighs, a full curve of belly, a neat strawberry-blonde triangle already glossy.

“You’re staring,” she said.

“I’m appreciating.”

“Then appreciate harder.”

I knelt between her thighs and licked her, one long wet stroke, and she grabbed the headboard and swore. She tasted sweet and salty. I circled her clit with my tongue and slid two fingers in, curling them, until her thighs shook against my ears and she came with a stifled yell into the pillow.

She dragged me up, tugged my shorts off and wrapped her hand round my cock. “Condom in my bag,” she panted. “Side pocket.”

I found it. Then she stopped, propped on one elbow, flushed and gorgeous and a little bit unsure.

“Your bed’s bigger,” she said. “Hannah’s nights, nobody’s going to know. Mine’s got a wonky leg.” She bit her lip. “But I’ll stay here if you want.”

The wonky leg creaked as she shifted. Down the landing, our bed waited.

→ I tell her we stay right here

→ I carry her into our own bedroom

← Back

I dried off, packed a flask of tea and walked the mile to the hospital through the drizzle with my erection finally calming down.

The cardiac ward was quiet at three in the morning, all dim lights and humming monitors. Hannah met me at the double doors in her blue scrubs, hair clipped up, smiling like I’d given her a kidney. “You daft sod,” she whispered, and kissed me. “You came all the way up.”

“I wanted to see you.”

She searched my face, and something in it must have shown. Her eyes darkened. She took my hand and pulled me down a corridor, through a door marked STAFF ONLY, into a little room with a bunk bed and a lamp.

She locked it. She pushed me back on the lower bunk and straddled me, her scrub top riding up. “You’re wound up,” she murmured. “I can feel it. Who’ve you been thinking about?”

“You,” I said. It was nearly true. The thought of Jess had burned itself off. It was just her now, the weight of her, the smell of her hair.

She wriggled out of her trousers. No knickers. “I’ve got twenty minutes,” she said, and sank onto my cock.

She rode me in absolute silence, one hand clapped over her own mouth, her scrubs bunched at her ribs, her eyes fixed on mine. I gripped her hips and thrust up, the bunk creaking, the lamp swinging. She came with a muffled sob. I followed, spilling deep inside her, and she collapsed on me, shaking.

“Thin walls in here too,” she whispered, and giggled. “Worth it.”

Ending 16 of 16: On-Call Room. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I locked the bathroom door, or I thought I did.

The shower was hot and hard. I leaned my forehead against the tiles with the water battering my neck, and let myself think about her. The dimple. The freckled breasts. The red knickers on the radiator. I took myself in hand and stroked slowly, long and firm, and it felt so good I groaned out loud. In my head she was kneeling in front of me, looking up, curls wet, mouth wide.

“Oh, Jess,” I muttered, to the tiles. “Jess, fuck, yes…”

The bathroom door opened.

It was the old kind of lock, the sort that pops with a shove. I opened my eyes through the steam to see Jess in the doorway in a towel, with a toothbrush in her mouth, saying, “Sorry, I’ve left my…” and stopping dead.

We looked at each other. Me, naked, soapy, fist wrapped round a very obviously half-finished cock. Her, eyes enormous.

The toothbrush fell out of her mouth. It bounced off the bath mat.

“I, um,” said Jess. She did not look away. Not for a long second. “Tom. Hi. That’s. Wow. Respect.”

“Jess, get out,” I croaked.

“Yes. Yeah. Totally.” She backed out and shut the door.

I heard her in the corridor. She was laughing, wheezing, helpless, until she slid down the wall. From behind the door she called, “For the record, my name sounded lovely!”

I stayed under the water until it went cold, but not before I’d finished.

Ending 15 of 16: Wrong Moment. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I held her as long as she needed.

It was meant to be comforting. She wrapped her arms round my neck and pressed her whole body against mine, soft and warm and smelling of coconut. Her breasts squashed against my chest. Her thigh slid between mine. She shuddered and said, “Thank you,” into my neck, and her breath was hot on my skin. My cock swelled instantly against her belly and there was nothing, nothing, I could do about it.

She felt it. Of course she did. She went very still.

“Tom.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Her voice had gone breathy. She didn’t pull away. She moved, a tiny sway of her hips, once, against me. Her mouth was an inch from mine. We were both shaking. For one long, stupid, glorious moment I held on, and then I broke it by stepping back, and it was like pulling off a plaster.

“Hannah,” I said hoarsely.

“Hannah,” she agreed, and laughed shakily, pressing her palms to her hot cheeks. “Wow. Worth a try.”

She went up. I stood alone in the kitchen with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit.

In the cold shower I wrapped my fist round myself, and thought about her thighs and her nipples and her small helpless wiggle, and I came in four seconds against the tiles, groaning into my arm, hating and loving every one of them.

When Hannah got home I told her nothing. I just held her tighter than normal. She looked at me in her sleepy way and said, “You’re being weird,” and then, “I like it.”

Ending 14 of 16: Long Hug. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I gave her a brisk hug, pat-pat on the shoulder, “Night, Jess,” and took the stairs two at a time. It was the hardest quick hug of my life.

The next morning I came down to find Hannah home from her shift, sitting at the table opposite Jess, both of them holding mugs. Hannah looked up at me, then back at Jess.

“She’s told me,” Hannah said.

My stomach dropped. “Han, nothing happened…”

“I know. Jess said that too. She said she had a go and you said no. She said you were an absolute gentleman, and she cried on me for half an hour.” Hannah stood up, crossed the kitchen and took my face in both hands. “I’m so proud of you I could scream.”

“I… thanks?”

“Thank you, Tom,” Jess said, with a wobbly smile. “I’m going to be a better friend. And you two are going to be very, very loud tonight, because I’m putting headphones on and going to the cinema.”

Hannah’s grin was pure filth. She took my hand and led me upstairs in the middle of the afternoon and pushed me down on the bed. She rode me with her blouse half off, hands braced on my chest, rocking and squeezing until I was begging. She’d never been so wet. “Reward,” she panted. “For being a good boy.”

I flipped her, pinned her wrists above her head and fucked her until the headboard rattled, hard and deep. She came with a scream.

Downstairs, the front door shut. Then, through the open window, we heard Jess’s voice in the street, shouting very clearly, “NICE ONE, HANNAH!”

Ending 13 of 16: Good Man. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I told her I only wanted her. Nobody else.

Hannah searched my face for a long moment, and whatever she found there made her eyes go soft and a bit wet. “Okay,” she said. “Okay, love. Then you’ve got me.”

She kissed me, slow and deep, the sort of kiss that came from fourteen years together and still made my toes curl. She stripped me. I stripped her, scrubs and bra and all, and we lay skin to skin in the stripe of morning light. I kissed her long throat and down her body, her small hard nipples, her ribs, and she opened her thighs for me with a happy sigh.

I licked her slowly, patiently, the way I knew she loved, one hand on her hip, the other slipping two fingers inside. She tasted like home. She rocked against my mouth, hands in my hair, and said my name over and over until she came, gasping, thighs tight round my ears.

Then she pulled me up and onto her. I slid inside and she locked her ankles behind me and we made love, looking at each other the whole way through. No rushing. No audience. Just the bed and the quiet and the sound of her breath catching.

“Tom,” she whispered, close, “I love you.”

I came with my forehead against hers.

Afterwards, in the doze, she said, “A bit of me thinks it’s a shame.”

“I know.”

“But I’d still rather have you.”

Through the wall, Jess had put the radio on. Loud. Considerately, awkwardly, hopelessly loud.

Ending 12 of 16: Just You. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I asked her to tell me, in detail.

Hannah’s grin was pure sin. She slid on top of me, pushed my wrists into the pillow and murmured, hot against my ear, what she’d say if she were being really naughty.

“I’d want to see her undressed. Those big soft tits in my hands. I’d want to feel her nipples go hard in my mouth.” She rolled her hips, sliding my cock against her wet knickers. “I’d take her hand and put it on you. I’d say, look how hard he is for you, Jess. And I’d watch her take you in her mouth.”

“Han…”

“And then I’d kneel behind her and lick her while she sucked you. And she’d moan round your cock and you’d feel it.” She pulled her knickers aside, positioned me and sank down in one slow stroke, both of us groaning. “And then I’d make you fuck her while I held her hand and kissed her. And then you’d fuck me while she watched, with her fingers in herself.”

She rode me hard and wet, whispering every detail, her breasts bouncing and her teeth in my shoulder. I gripped her hips and thrust up into her until she came, shaking, calling my name, her best friend’s name, and I came so hard my vision whitened.

Afterwards she lay on my chest, flushed.

“We’re never actually doing that,” she said, sleepily.

“Never?”

“Not yet.”

Next door, the shower was off. We lay still. Someone on the other side of the wall had gone very quiet.

Ending 11 of 16: Her Fantasy. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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