Read Online Asking For Trouble by Kristina Lloyd - Free Book Online Page B

he said softly, his breathing shallow and faint. ‘Ah, yes.’
    I couldn’t speak.
    Sometimes when I come I feel so shocked afterwards. I feel dazed and numb, like I’ve just been assaulted, like I’ve been picked up and hurled down. I felt like that then: shocked and stunned. The fact that I’d just mutually orgasmed with a stranger down a phone line probably had something to do with it. But it was ecstasy and its aftermath that left me truly reeling.
    ‘You OK?’ he enquired in a murmur. ‘Nice?’
    I still couldn’t speak.
    ‘Beth? You still there?’
    I managed to say, ‘Mm.’
    ‘You OK?’
    ‘Mmm.’
    ‘You sure?’
    I took a deep breath and told him: ‘Words fail me.’
    He gave an appreciative half-laugh, half-snort. Then he fell silent.
    We were like that for a while, quietly recovering, ignoring phone etiquette, which demands someone make a noise.
    Eventually I said: ‘OK. I’m OK now. I’ve got my words back.’
    ‘So,’ he began, ‘you’ve never had anal sex?’
    ‘No, never.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Dunno. Just haven’t. I’m quite happy with the orifice I’ve always used, thanks.’
    ‘Do you like the idea of it?’
    ‘I . . . I don’t . . . You tell it very nicely. But –’
    ‘I can do it very nicely as well.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘Let me. What I just did in fantasy, Beth, let me do it in reality. Let me fuck –’
    ‘You’re moving too fast,’ I cautioned. ‘Slow down.’
    ‘Is that no, then?’
    ‘Slow down means slow down,’ I replied. ‘Call me old-fashioned but I generally like to meet a guy before I agree to drop my knickers, let alone offer up my arse to him. My virgin little arse.’
    ‘How very principled,’ he said. ‘We should meet.’
    ‘I might not like you in the flesh.’
    ‘Hmm,’ he said, as if he were thinking it over. ‘Maybe not. Perhaps we should leave it here then. We met on an abstract plane, fantasised, and it was perfect. Finito. Nothing after that to taint the memory.’
    Was he serious? Was he trying to call my bluff? Idesperately, desperately wanted to meet him, and I knew I’d like him in the flesh. I’d only said I might not just to tease him. I was simply playing, ever so slightly, hard to get. I didn’t expect him to take my words at face value and back down. I’d expected him to banter, to persuade me that he was stunningly beautiful and well worth meeting.
    ‘Maybe you’re right,’ I said, praying that I wasn’t taking too big a risk. ‘End on a high note. Finito.’
    He paused. Then he said, ‘Yeah, it’s probably best. And it’s probably best not to discuss it too much. It’ll only bring the high note down.’
    Silence. In my head, I screamed and cursed.
    ‘Well then,’ he began, in a signing-off tone. ‘I enjoyed our little chat.’
    ‘Yeah, me too,’ I said, feigning casual brightness. I struggled to think how I could rescue the situation, how I could ask for more of him without losing face. I didn’t want to appear too keen, especially when he was so infuriatingly cool. An idea came to me and I blurted it out: ‘You should send me a photo.’
    ‘A photo,’ he echoed. I heard that smile in his voice.
    ‘Yeah,’ I said hurriedly, trying to make amends for my eagerness. ‘I mean, it’s not fair if we end it here, not fair on me. You know what I look like – at least, I assume you do. I’ve only ever seen you from across the street. I can’t . . . I think of you as a faceless man. It’s not fair. That’s how I’ll have to remember everything – this, the fantasy, the things you –’
    ‘Is that how it was for you?’ he asked, still smiling. ‘In your imagination, were you buggered by a faceless man?’
    ‘Yes,’ I said.
    ‘You’re right,’ he replied. ‘It’s not fair. So you want a photo to imagine it all anew?’
    ‘I’m just curious. I’d like to know –’
    ‘OK, I’ll send you one. And if you like the look of me, we can meet. Is that a deal?’
    ‘Sure,’ I said, trying to be