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Chapter 26 the conversation

I awoke with an instant, decisive thought. Yvonne was blissfully asleep. I could hear her breathing, soft and regular. It was sometime in the wee hours of the morning, no dawn sky but black and peaceful, except for my thought. Why do they come in the middle of the night? I wondered. And how do they suddenly pop in, invading my peaceful dreams, which were totally different to my thought? Maybe it wasn’t my thought.

I shook Yvonne awake to share this thought with her.

“Mmm,” she murmured, half-asleep.

“Yvonne!” Time for more than shaking. The verbal attack.

“What?” The voice was an autopilot voice.

“Forget about your broken leg preventing us from going to Jamaica. I can’t go to Jamaica.”

“Why not?” More awake now.

“Let me count the ways. Electrolysis, waxing, I’m too skinny, I’m…”

“Shut up. I lied about all models being hair-free. They have the same problems as you do.” Yvonne turned over and yawned loudly. I wasn’t sure if she’d turned from her front on to her back or the opposite. All required a lot of shoving; bedclothes up and down, pillows having to be shifted around, more with the bedclothes up and down, and lots of sighing.

“Why did you lie?” I asked when the bed and Yvonne were silent.

“I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to make you feel better about what you were doing.”

“But we’ll be there a long time. The hair will grow back.”

“What did I just say?” Impatient voice.

After a small think, I said, “Something about models having the same problems.”

“Exactly. I’ve got it covered for you. There are beauticians coming to Jamaica with us and I’ve made sure one of them, at least, is trained in electrolysis. Christ, I’m sick of that word. I’m sleeping.”

“But what about the hair that is growing back? I can’t wear a bikini.”

“You’ve got a real phobia about this,” she said. “You’ll have a suntan by then, that will make it less obvious. And, like people in front of a camera, make-up will cover it until it’s permanent.”

“What about me being too skinny?”

“You are talking about models!”


“I’m asleep.”

Chapter 27 monkey shines

“Lyn, can you come here? I can’t move. This isn’t one of those come here’s. I really can’t move. I mean, I would come to you if I could, but I can’t.” Yvonne twisted around, trying to find me in the apartment.

I sat on the window seat, reading a letter from Jane. Yvonne, as usual, lay on the bed, wearing another of her sexy lounge outfits. She rested on her stomach.

“Just a sec. Let me finish this,” I said, reading the last little bit, but seeing Yvonne in the corner of my eye struggling on the bed.

“This is cruel,” she said. “I can’t move as well when I’m on my front.”

“Then turn over,” I said, returning the letter to its envelope and going over to her. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m randy. Can you believe that? In the middle of all this, I still want you. I was lying here, thinking of Jamaica, and I saw you in a bikini on the beach, and I got instantly turned on. Can you turn me over?” Her voice was filled with lust and excitement.

“How did my bikini look?” I asked as I held her leg so she could turn over. I repositioned the pillows under her leg, then began a slow crawl over her body on my hands and knees, up to her face.

“The bikini wasn’t on long enough for me to see. I ripped it off and made mad, passionate love to you.”

My mouth was a centimeter from hers and my body stretched out but up on my elbows a little to keep my full weight off her. “Is this too painful?” I asked, before devouring her mouth with mine.

“No,” she said, and brought my mouth down to hers, her hands holding my hair back.

I lay down on her gently, mainly for physical contact and to kiss, a long, very sensual kiss. No rubbing up and down, no jarring movements, no sex, just kissing and cuddling.

“And your body wasn’t horrible,” she said as my hands and mouth were on their way to her breasts. “Except I’ll look pretty strange going into a sun tanning salon with a broken leg.”

“You can do your leg later,” I said, her shirt open and my mouth and hands busy on her breasts.

“Can you sit up? I want to look at you,” she said. “I’m sick of lying down and seeing everything from a horizontal position.”

I sat up on her, straddling her around her hips, and looked down. “You have a broken leg. You have been sitting up, you sit up all the time,” I said, gently playing with her breasts in my hands.

“I want to look at you like you’re looking at me. Take your top off.”

“What’s with you?” I said. “I don’t jump to commands like that.”

“Why? You undress me and I can’t get at you. Can’t you take it off so I can see you? I used to just do it, now I have to ask or wait for you to do it.”

I felt odd being asked to take my clothes off. “I’ll lie down and you can take it off,” I suggested.

“No,” she said. “Can’t you just take your top off? What’s the big deal? You see me every which way now. I want us to make love. Do you want to?” She was still taking this very seriously. No playfulness, no sexiness to lure me in. It was very odd.

“No one’s ever asked me to do this. I haven’t enough to warrant taking my top off,” I said, wishing I could casually reach for a cigarette and light up.

“You have breasts, they’re just small. I haven’t got huge ones either,” she said, trying to make me feel a bit easier. “Don’t think about it. Just whip it off. It’s just you and me. Okay, help me up and I’ll whip it off you,” she said, yielding.

“No, I’ll do it,” I said. “Just don’t laugh.”

“Believe me, I won’t laugh. I love making love, that’s what I want, and you are turning this into something that makes me look and feel like a sex fiend.”

I was making a huge deal out of something so natural. “It’s the way you asked,” I said, feeling very uncomfortable. “No love. You’re the model. I’m not used to this, but I will.”

“Do it slowly, take it off sexily. I’ll sit up so I can see better,” she said, quite excited by this.

I lifted up and Yvonne shifted herself up the bed, by pushing down on the bed with her hands and her bent-up left leg. I went with her and fixed the pillows under her leg and behind her back on the brick wall. We were now sitting up, facing each other.

“Can we make love?” Her hand touched my face gently, moving into my hair.

“Yes, that’s not the problem,” I said, trying to think what the problem was. “We usually just do it, you’ve never asked me before.” I shifted off her a little, taking more of the weight onto my knees.

“I’m okay,” she said, her hands on my waist, her gleaming eyes looking directly into mine. “I love you,” she said, leaning closer.

I leant closer, slid my arms around her and we kissed.

We kissed and cuddled until Yvonne stopped and said quietly, “Take it off, just you. I want to see you. I love you.”

I leant back from her and slowly lifted my top over my head. Yvonne was turned on, smiling at me. “How was that?” I asked nervously.

“Come closer and I’ll show you. I didn’t want to ask, but sometimes you seem to need to be pushed to do things.” Her eyes followed mine. I could feel them probing me.

“Don’t talk,” I said, “you ruin things by talking. You are the most confusing person I’ve ever met and it’s not just because you make me feel hot so often. You don’t say or do what you really mean. Sometimes I think you just say whatever pops into your head. You’re sitting up now and yet you complain about lying flat. You’re mixed up.”

“Kiss me, I can’t chase you. I’m here and you can move, I can’t.”

“What about what I just said?”

“That has nothing to do with how I feel about you, and what I want.”

“You see? That is a perfect example of what I’m talking about! You don’t answer me the way a normal person would.”

“I should hope not! Who wants to be normal? Lyn, if you don’t want to, just say it!”

“I do,” I said quickly. My head was beside hers and my arms around her.

It was difficult for Yvonne to move so I moved for both of us.

We hugged quietly for a while. Then I divested her of her shirt, ran my fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp along the way with my long fingernails, and lowered my head for a very long kiss. With our mouths open wide to each other and our tongues entwining, slipping and sliding over and under, inside our mouths, and our lips smacking, twisting this way and that, with our heads swapping sides, then coming together to seal us for eternity, we kissed and cuddled while I slid my body right up her lap as far as I could go, until I was pressing her chest to mine and I could then slip my legs behind her, removing the pillows against the wall and replacing them with my crossed-over legs, which were now completely wrapped around her, our mouths still open, slurping each other in our long, drawn-out, hungry, wonderful kiss. Our hands, arms and legs constantly shifted around each other, our naked top halves molded together.

My embarrassment was soon long forgotten.

“Move down,” I breathed into her ear, followed by my tongue delicately tracing the many ridges it was finding, then my open mouth going in for the kill, sucking the life out of it, with my left arm wrapped around her head, holding her to me. She squirmed, struggling under the intense feelings my mouth and tongue inflicted on her ear. My right hand had hold of her hair, keeping it away from the ear I was making love to. Yvonne loved it, but it made her feel gooey inside and she could only handle it for a short suck and lick, not the massive job I was doing on it.

Yvonne won. Her hands managed to disengage mine from their hold on her head and she soon wormed her way down the bed, taking me with her and wiping her ear on the bottom sheet to rid herself of my saliva. She flattened herself out on the bed under me and her mouth landed on my breast, with her arms around my back, holding me tightly to her. I groaned under her wonderful mouth and rested my head on the pillow I’d pulled across. Yvonne shifted her mouth to my other breast while her hands moved down to my pants. I helped, and together we took them off, with a burst of laughter from both of us at the awkwardness of making love with a broken leg in the way. I’d had to raise myself up a bit to actually remove my shorts and underpants from my legs. And then I whipped Yvonne’s off her.

The weather outside might have been cool, but the apartment was warm with central heating. With our clothes off, Yvonne lay flat on her back, and we made love in a way that was not painful or difficult for Yvonne or her leg, which meant me on top, being a monkey, crawling all over her, touching her all over, kissing her all over, and shifting myself around to lie on and over her body, or moving to where she wanted me, so she could kiss me, lick me, suck me and touch me anywhere she desired, by her hands gently directing me down or up her body, depending on the area of my body that interested her the most at the time, a massive Monkey Shines.

Our lovemaking had only been halted or curtailed by Yvonne’s level of pain and discomfort. The more she became accustomed to her leg being in plaster, and the less pain she was feeling, the more we got back on track, starting another perfect record.

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