Author: Akiko

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I kissed her. Of course I did.

It was soft for about one second. Then Jess made a noise in her throat, grabbed my T-shirt in both fists and kissed me like she’d been saving it up. Her mouth was hot and tasted of tea and toothpaste. I got my hands on her hips, soft and generous and exactly as good as I’d imagined, and lifted her onto the worktop. She wrapped her legs round me and ground herself against the hard length in my shorts.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “I’ve wanted to do that since Sunday.”

I pulled her vest up. Her breasts were heavy and freckled, pink nipples tight, and I took one in my mouth and sucked until she hissed and arched. Her hand shoved down the front of my shorts and closed round my cock. “Fuck, Tom. Look at you.”

I slid two fingers inside the leg of her knickers. She was soaking, slick and swollen, and she gasped into my hair when I found her clit. Behind her, the red knickers on the radiator watched us.

Then she caught my wrist, breathing hard, and nodded at the uncurtained window over the sink. “Not here. Next door’s lights are on.”

Her eyes were dark and begging. Hannah’s best friend, wet on my hand, waiting for me to say where.

→ I carry her upstairs to the spare room

→ I stop, and take my hand out of her knickers

← Back

I said nothing, pulled on my trainers by the back door and ran.

It was gone midnight, raining lightly, the streets empty and orange under the lamps. I ran like a man being chased, past the shut chip shop, round the park, up the hill by the allotments, and with every step her face kept coming along with me. The dimple. The red knickers. Her whispered “my name”.

Forty minutes later I was soaked, shaking and as hard as a fence post, which is an irritating thing to be at the top of a hill in the rain. I jogged home with my phone buzzing against my thigh. A message from Hannah, from the ward: quiet night. missing you. 3am cuppa? x

I could do that. I could walk up to the hospital, kiss my wife in the corridor and be a good husband.

But first I let myself in, dripping on the mat. The house was dark. The spare room door was shut. The bathroom light was on, and the radiator on the landing was heaped with Jess’s washing, a pile of lace and cotton and one pale blue thong I definitely hadn’t seen before.

I stood there steaming, in the dark, with the smell of her coconut shampoo drifting out of the bathroom.

My cock throbbed in my wet shorts. I could take myself in hand in the shower and be done in a minute. Or I could get dry, pull on dry clothes and walk the mile to the hospital with a flask of tea.

→ I lock the bathroom door and get in the shower

→ I get dry and take a flask to Hannah’s ward

← Back

I took a breath. “Jess. I’m flattered. You’re gorgeous and funny and I’m not made of stone. But I’m married to your best friend, and it ends here.”

She nodded slowly. I’d expected her to cry again. She didn’t. She breathed out a long wobble of a laugh and tucked a curl behind her ear.

“Good,” she said. “Thank you. I think I needed someone to say it. Callum never said no to anything, which is why he said yes to Becca from his office.” She wiped her nose on her wrist. “God, I’m a mess. I’ll stay out of your way. And I’ll put a pillow over my head at night.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I do. For both of us.”

She stood up, barefoot on the lino, her vest sliding down her round stomach, her knickers a pale triangle under the cotton, her washing drying on the radiator behind her like a flag of surrender. I made myself look at her face.

“Can I at least have a hug?” she said. “A proper one. Then I’ll go to bed like a good girl and we’ll never speak of it.”

She opened her arms. She was twenty-nine, warm, curvy and wearing next to nothing, and every cell of me wanted to say yes and also, in a quieter, wiser voice, wanted to say yes very carefully.

→ I give her a quick, brisk hug and say goodnight

→ I hold her as long as she needs

← Back

I took a breath. “Han, I wanted you to hear it from me. That’s all. I’m not going to do anything. I love you. I just didn’t want to hide it.”

She didn’t move. Then she let out a long, slow breath and kissed the corner of my mouth.

“God, you’re a good man,” she said. “Annoyingly good.” Her thumb stroked my jaw. “Okay. I believe you. And I’m going to say something and you can say stop at any time.”

“Okay.”

“Now it’s in the room, I’m a bit turned on by it. Not the doing it behind my back. Obviously. But the wanting.” She laughed softly, embarrassed. “I’m not sure what to do with that. Are you?”

Through the wall, a hairdryer started. Jess, singing along to it.

Hannah’s hand was back on my cock, firm and slow. She lifted the duvet and looked down at me, then at me. “You’re so hard. Is that all me?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly.” She snorted. “Honest man.” She crawled down the bed, pushed my knees apart and took me in her mouth, one slow wet suck, and I groaned so loud the hairdryer paused.

She lifted her head, lips shining. “So,” she said. “Do you want me to tell you what I’d say if I were being really naughty? Or do you want me to stop talking and just ride you?”

→ I ask her to tell me, in detail

→ I tell her I just want her, nobody else

← Back

I asked. My voice cracked halfway through.

Hannah rolled off me and lay on her back, one hand stroking my chest, the other tucked behind her head. Through the wall, the shower shut off.

“I’ve thought about it,” she said. “Before Jess even moved in. When she was telling me about Callum, how she’d been crying in the loo at work, and I thought, God, someone should show that girl what she’s worth.” She turned her head. “And then I thought about you doing it. And then I thought about me watching. And then I had to go and have a very quiet wank in the sluice room.”

“Han.”

“I’m serious. I’m not talking about you sneaking off. I’m talking about all three of us. Her, if she wants it. Me in the room, in the bed, with my hands on both of you. Everyone saying yes out loud, nobody lying. Rules.” She counted on her fingers. “Jess says yes freely. I’m there. We stop the second anyone wants to. And afterwards we’re still us.”

She took my hand and slid it under her scrubs, into her knickers. She was drenched.

“Feel that? That’s me thinking about it. That’s all from my best friend’s tits.”

I almost came on the spot. Down the landing, a door opened and Jess’s bare feet padded towards the kitchen.

“So,” Hannah whispered, grinning. “Do we ask her tonight, together, or do you want to sound her out on your own?”

→ I say we ask her together, tonight

→ I say I’ll sound her out on my own first

← Back

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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