Over the next few months, things got busy at college, and things continued with the boys from the flat upstairs. I continued to see Fraser and Jason once a week. Marc three times. We spent other times together too. Financially things were difficult for Marc, too, because of me, but we drove out into the country and he even took me out for a meal for my birthday. I loved it; it all felt real, like he was my actual boyfriend.
There was no obvious jealousy. The other two knew I was fond of them and would keep my bargain, but they knew it was different with Marc. They knew that he cared about me in another way than them. They were surprised that he seemed OK with them visiting me, given the depth of his feeling. He just shrugged and said,
“We made a deal; just be kind to her.”
Only I knew how difficult he found it, more difficult than he would ever let on to them. He was always out when they visited me. Only I knew that he always came to see me afterwards to kiss and hold me. Although he never said it out loud, I think he needed me to reassure him that he was still my favourite.
Despite craving any time I could spend with him. I had to compartmentalise my life. I had all these sheets of timings and notes to ensure that everything I needed to do college-wise was done. Oddly, my hours spent with the boys were a good distraction.
Jason had lost some weight but was still a big cuddly bear obsessed with my breasts. He wanted to try different positions and new ideas as he grew confident. He always ensured that I wasn’t crossing any of my boundaries. One day soon, he would make a lucky woman very happy. He was my cuddly teddy bear and although I knew he was desperate to kiss me properly, he respected me enough not to push it. He also respected my feelings for Marc even if I denied them to Fraser and him.
“We’re just good friends, that’s all; you two are my friends, too.”
“No, you like us, but it’s more with Marc. If the three of us are in the room, you can’t take your eyes off him. You admit he might be your favourite, but you must realise he’s more than that,” Jason insisted.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. He would never want me now, not after I agreed to all this.”
“He’s already sacrificed a lot for you to have more of you – his car, his money, his pride.”
“Pride?”
“Fraser and I know it hurts him when we come and see you, but he insisted it’s only fair to us, even if it isn’t fair to him. We’d give you up, but we’re too selfish, and you’re too lovely. We’re not as good as him.”
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Believe me any time with you is like a balm on any hurt feelings. You make him happy.”
After only three months of seeing me, Fraser suddenly stopped visiting. His confidence was so high that he asked out a petite blonde from year two. The other girls called her the nun because she never dated. Fraser was utterly smitten and asked my advice on how to proceed. He was anxious that she would never know we’d been anything other than friends. The other boys didn’t know that we’d only had full sex once. He was intent on first learning how to please a woman in different ways. He was very considerate, and I enjoyed it. He learned to make me come quickly using his hands and his mouth. He never made me come like Marc did though; Marc always had me screaming.
The last time Fraser and I were together was the only time we had full sex. After spending a long time pleasuring me orally, he lay on his back and I climbed on his very stiff cock. I swear it was bigger than it ever had been before. I held my breasts out for him to feast on before he rolled us over and rather athletically pounded me into the mattress, with me clinging on to those well-known muscular buttocks. He roared as he came and much to his delight, I came too.
“You came on my cock,” he looked at me, amazed.
“I did,” I smiled at him.
I think this was the final bit of confidence he needed. He kissed me on the cheek and practically skipped up the stairs. The next time I saw him, he had his new girlfriend on his arm, gazing up adoringly at him. She was a lucky girl. She needed to hold on tight to him.
After my dissertation was finally handed in, it was all about the revision notes. On my last week at college, Jason came to see me. He had a little gift. A little angel carved out of wood. It looked so delicate in his big hands.
“This is to say thank you for everything. This isn’t my usual visit as you need to revise. Your exams are more important than anything else. You know that I think you’re beautiful. You’ve been so kind to me and never made me feel stupid or clumsy. You always made me feel like you wanted to see me, even if I knew I wasn’t the one you really wanted.
I got you this because you’re an angel. You’ve been kind to me. Please be kind to my friend Marc, won’t you? I wish I’d been a better friend to him, but I couldn’t give up my time with you. I’ve been selfish, but I did it because I’ve always been a little bit in love with you. Over time, I hope that you can both forgive me for that. More importantly, please forgive Marc, just remember that whatever he’s done, he’s done for you.”
I looked at him, puzzled. He kissed me on the lips for the first time; it was just a peck, just like a parent would do to a child or a brother would give to a sister. After he’d closed the door quietly, I cradled the little angel in my hands and wondered what I would have to forgive Marc for. I placed the angel carefully on the side and returned to my revision.
Marc wasn’t around for the next few days. I had seen him every day for the last six months and missed him. It made me wonder how I would cope on Saturday morning when I left after my final exams and the summer ball.
He had left a letter wishing me luck and saying he had to sort out some family business. He’d had special leave from the college. He’d ended the letter by writing ‘All my love, Marc’. How I wished that I really did have all his love as I returned to my revision.
It’s hard to describe the feeling of walking out into the sunshine after that final exam—three hours in that smelly gymnasium to decide your future. My year group all sat on the hill past the tennis courts to have a group photo taken. We had no trouble smiling. All that revision is finally done with. We had the rest of our lives to look forward to.
As I climbed back up the hill, I saw Marc leaning against his beaten-up old car. The car he’d had to buy because of me. He smiled at me from under those black curls, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. I loved it when he did that. How was I going to say goodbye to him? Suddenly my post-exam euphoria disappeared and I had a lump in my throat. I tried to return his smile as I walked towards him.
“Your chariot awaits. We’re going to lunch. Jump in!” he said as he was kissing me on the cheek.
He drove up into the hills to a little country pub. It was easy and comfortable and he held my hand. I didn’t want him to let go. Afterwards, we sat in the car and looked out over the rolling hills.
“I’ve got something to tell you. Will you promise to listen and not to interrupt?”
I nodded, feeling that lump in my throat reappear.
“I am leaving college. I’ve decided that I don’t want to be here without you. Fraser and Jason are moving into a new flat together in September. That’s a month left of the term for me here, and then in September, I’ll do my final year at another college. I’ve already sorted out some digs, but that depends on you.
“I love you, Vic. I don’t want to have to share you ever again. I don’t think I can. I’ve only been able to cope these past few months because I was still getting more of you than anyone else. Fraser eventually told me that you had only been fully together one time. I know you never held anything back from me. That gave me hope that you felt the same way. You picked me first that time. Now I need to be the last one you pick.”
I realised that tears were slowly rolling down my face. I looked into his eyes as he took my hand, and I felt a ring being pushed onto my finger. I looked down to see a beautiful sapphire ring, flanked by two small diamonds.
“It was my Mum’s. I know that she’d want you to have it. Will you marry me?”
I just looked at his handsome, eager face. He had no idea what he was doing to me.
“It wouldn’t be for a few years yet, I know, but the world would know that I love you, that we belong together and that we picked each other. Only each other,” he emphasised.
“I love you, Marc. I just didn’t think that you’d ever forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. We just found a different way to be together. I’m not ashamed, and neither should you be. This was our path. Perhaps we won’t share the details with our kids, though,” he smiled.
“Perhaps not,” I whispered.
“I certainly didn’t share the details when I asked your mum for her permission to ask you to marry me.”
“You’ve met my mum?” I asked amazed.
“Of course, I have. I think she quite likes me. I went to see her the day after I had sorted out the college transfer. I’m going to the one nearest to you; your house is close enough that your mom suggested that I move in and pay my rent to her instead of a student landlord. If you say yes, of course.”
My wonderful, handsome Marc. I had barely answered yes to his proposal before I was lost in one of those delicious kisses. He still had one more surprise left for me. He turned to the back seat, moved the rug away, and there was a dress bag.
“Your mum sent you this to wear tonight at the ball. She didn’t want you to have to wear that old one you wore last Christmas. Don’t worry; it’s only from the charity shop. It didn’t cost much, but it is your size.”
It was a beautiful shade of blue; my new ring would look fabulous with it.
“I bought you the shoes; I went shopping with your Mum. I bought lunch, she said she’d always wanted a son. I think she’s pretty keen on me.”
“How could she not be?” I smiled. “ So, the boys knew?”
“Yes, I had to tell them because of the flat. That’s why Jason just came to say goodbye. He was thrilled for us, despite how he feels about you. He asked me if he could give you a present. He was desperate for one proper kiss. Poor bugger, he’s completely in love with you; you could have kissed him goodbye properly, you know.”
“No, I only kiss you. No one else.”
I don’t think his smile could have been any wider if he had tried.
That night at the ball, we danced together and held each other. I only danced with my fiancé. We returned to my flat after the ball. That night when we made love, it was different; we had made a commitment to each other, a bond that we’ve never broken.
We were giggly and silly as we came up the stairs, full of wine and happiness. We were hot, but Marc smelled sexy, and I felt the heat radiate off him. His shirt was stuck to his back as I held him. His heat seemed to make his aftershave smell stronger. It smelt delicious; he tasted delicious. As I kissed him, his tongue explored my mouth and I felt him slide the zip of my dress off. The dress pooled at my feet, and I stood there in nothing but my knickers and heels. I felt my nipples pebble against his chest as he continued to kiss me, deep and hard.
I pulled away from his lips and started to kiss down his body as I opened the buttons of his shirt. My other hand massaged his cock through his trousers. I undid his belt and pulled his trousers and boxers down in one. I studied his erection for a brief second; I loved its curve, and I loved the way his foreskin rolled back so tightly that the large mushroom of his cock looked angry and fiery. I loved this cock and I loved him. I engulfed his head in my mouth and I licked and sucked him in. I had always struggled to get my mouth around the head of his cock, but practice made perfect as I took in more of his length than I ever had before. He groaned above me, that sexy growl in the back of his throat spurring me on, encouraging me to make him feel better than I ever had before.
He gently grabbed my shoulders and moved me towards the bed. He lay back, his erection standing proud as it curved towards his belly. He motioned me to join him. I knew what he wanted. He loved to sixty-nine with me. I can honestly say that I was never happier than when he was tonguing and probing my pussy as I sucked and licked him. It was the best. We both came together and even though I screamed as I came, I managed to catch most of his seed in my mouth, but what I didn’t, I cleaned up as I lovingly licked him clean.
Marc soon recovered quickly; this would be the first time we would make love without a condom. It made it even more special as I felt him properly for the first time, his warmth as he entered me. The first and last man to be fully naked with me. As he rocked back and forth within me, I ran my fingers through those black curls I loved so much. I was kissing him with all the passion that he roused in me. I felt him go deeper inside me as I opened up to him. I was pulling him into me as he thrust faster and faster. I felt another orgasm building and when I came, it just seemed to carry on and on until finally, with a shudder, I felt him fill me with the warmth of his seed, the warmth of his love, for the first time.
Later when I thought he was asleep, I whispered “I’m yours.”
“Finally, all mine,” he whispered back.
So, all these years later, when the parents at my school look at their middle-aged deputy head, they’d never guess that she was once a kept woman. They’d also never think that her handsome, curly-haired husband could still distract her with his kisses and still regularly made her scream through her orgasms.
I’m so glad that I picked him first and last.
That’s the end of The Boy’s Upstairs; I hope you enjoyed it, and you may leave it here, but if you want to know a little bit more, please continue reading.
Epilogue:
My husband has enjoyed this story, most likely because he is the real-life Marc. He quite liked that he was the hero of the story. Well, he is the hero of my real-life story, so it only seems fair.
He wanted to know what happened to the other characters. I have also had many messages asking if it is all real and, if not, which bits are true. The basic plot is entirely fictional, but there are elements of truth, for example, the proposal overlooking the hills on my last day of college, the dress and the description of my ring, although in reality, that wasn’t a complete surprise.
My husband was also really one of the boys upstairs! He wandered downstairs one night, knocked on my door, and never really left. However, I did not sleep with any of his flatmates. I describe the boys I knew before I met my ‘Marc’.
‘Jason’ was a previous boyfriend who was very much in love with me. I was fond of him, but I knew that something was missing; I was just too inexperienced to know what it was until I met my husband.
‘Jack’ was real, too; I have described him painfully accurately. He was my big mistake. I fell for his line of chat and allowed myself to think he cared about me. It is not a happy sexual memory. I had to rewrite an aspect of that story because the real Jack pushed my boundaries in a way I had not agreed to. Consequently, the moderators would not allow it and gently explained precisely what had happened. I am grateful that they made me rethink that experience. I was obviously more innocent than I thought.
‘Fraser’ was real, too. However, we were never intimate. I had a bit of a crush on that big red-haired Scotsman, but it was never reciprocated. However, I still remember the glory of his buttocks as someone lifted his kilt above his head at the Christmas ball. I imagine she would be arrested nowadays, but thirty years ago, he took it in good part and continued to moon us for the rest of the night. My husband laughed when he read Chapter Four, as he knew exactly who the real Fraser was. He has offered to buy a kilt!
So, what happened next in the story? This is especially for my lovely real-life husband and anyone else who is curious.
Vic and Marc, of course, lived happily ever after. Fraser married his girlfriend, the little nun, and they continue to be happy and satisfied, with a house full of red-haired children.
Jason married too, but very late after playing the field for a bit. He is now the oldest and happiest Dad in the playground.
As for ‘little Jack’, by the age of thirty, he had become one of the youngest head teachers in the country, racing up the ranks to success in his confidence and arrogance. It all came crashing down for him at aged 32 when he was sacked for inappropriate sexual behaviour with two student teachers, four mothers and the school cook!
As for the well-known tart Lizzy Peat, she was made Student of the Year, and we all know that her popularity with a particular silver fox lecturer got her that accolade.
Thank you again for reading. This is my first (and probably last) attempt at a story in parts; I apologise for any mistakes I have made. I am grateful for those people kind enough to say that they enjoy anything I have written.
