Melissa clung to me as she writhed against the back of my fingers. My fingernails scraped along the soft skin of her Mons, the feeling of her skin contrasting with the slight feel of the light fabric of her thong as she moved seductively higher and lower on her toes.
I laid her on the bed, slipping her thong from her body smoothly, as she moved her hips to assist me. Her legs parted widely and gave my lips access to her vagina as I knelt on the floor between them. Her body was in constant motion as her vulva moved against my tongue, demanding the unique stimulation that increased her tortured arousal. Her breathless demands filled the room with a constant auditory expression of pleasure and suggestion.
She pulled me in to her as my tongue focused on her clitoral hood, gently circling the area as she ground her hips into me, seeking greater stimulation. She placed two fingers either side of her clitoris and eased it apart as I sought out the elusive gland while inserting my index finger inside her vagina. Her shoulders lifted as she watched what I was doing, a constant stream of whispered encouragement driving me on.
She suddenly lay flat on the bed and lifted her hips as the first tremors of climax coursed through her. She was impossibly aroused as a veritable stream of fluid began to flow from inside her, covering my tongue with a sweet muskiness that drove me further.
Her limbs shook in expression of the height of her journey as she caught my head in a vice, taking it on a journey as she held on to me with everything she possessed, while her orgasm took her away and flooded her senses with an intense and euphoric ecstasy.
“Oh my God. Yes, that’s it, Tony. Jesus!” she exclaimed, her voice just above a loud whisper.
A louder sigh of almost intoxication followed, her volume rising as the strength of her climax rapidly increased, culminating in an exquisite and breathless expression of joy as she broke through.
I maintained a gentle lapping of my tongue to her engorged vulva, attempting to ease her undulating restlessness, until she eased my lips away from her vulva and drew my lips to hers. She kissed me deeply and lay back, breathing heavily and trying to return to normality. We held each other as she settled.
She reached for my penis and smiled in the dim light.
“You’re still hard,” she whispered, her eyes actively searching mine, “can you give me a few minutes, Tony?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, stroking her face gently.
She smiled at me.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing,” she said as she sought my lips, “you’re a beautiful soul, you make me happy.”
“You’re a very sexy lady, Melissa,” I said.
She kissed me again and I just followed her lead as she rolled on her back and took me with her. She reached for my penis, taking it gently in her hand.
“Fuck me please,” she whispered, as she led me to the entrance of her vagina, “I’m ready.”
I pushed gently inside the moist entrance to her vagina, slowing as she squeezed me tightly.
“You ok, love? I whispered.
“Yes, a bit stretched, that’s all.”
“Sure?”
“Yes, keep going, I want you inside me so bad.”
I pulled out a little and her hips rose in protest, relaxing as I slid back in again, moving slowly, penetrating deeper. She murmured something unintelligible. She was so tight around my shaft. It was such an erotic experience. I flexed my penis inside her and she lifted slightly off the bed.
“Ooh fuck, Tony,” she whispered, “you’re driving me crazy.”
I withdrew again, to louder sighs from her, returning to my previous depth and pushing deeper until I reached her full depth.
“Jesus, that’s so good.”
I began gently thrusting inside her. She met and matched my pace as I maintained a slow rhythm. The release of some fluid eased the tightness somewhat but I could detect some gentle pulses from her vaginal muscles as she held me inside her, her hips beginning to increase her pace and indicative need. Her sighs of pleasure were constant as her arousal increased in time with mine. Her breath came in increasingly ragged gasps, manifesting itself as a plaintiff whisper.
“I’m coming again, Tony,” she cried out.
“Stay with me, I’m almost there,” I whispered, as my pace increased.
“Fuck! I can’t hold it!” she almost screamed as she hit her point of no return, taking me with her as my sensory system overloaded, causing a release of a powerful stream of my semen deep inside her vagina.
We remained in place as our bodies became one, in concert with our diminishing waves of ecstasy. We kissed deeply and lovingly, our tongues part of the harmonic joy we shared. The strength of my erection maintained as the sheer sensuous joy of this woman kept me turned on to the fullest. She looked at me through satisfied eyes.
“You’re still hard, love,” she whispered, a look of confusion and joy on her face.
“I can’t help it, Melissa, it loves your vagina,” I said, as I flexed inside her.
“This is unexplored territory for me,” she said, “I think I’ll die if I try for another orgasm.”
“But what a way to go,” I said, “let me make love to you.”
“Let me make love to you,” she said softly, as she kissed me deeply and lingeringly.
I rolled on my back, holding her in place. I didn’t want to leave her vagina as she held me inside her. We were impossibly wet from the co-mingling of our ejaculatory fluids and she moved easily against me, her lips and tongue holding mine prisoner and her hands holding mine above my head as we consumed each other into the night.
Next morning I woke at 6:00 with a fuzzy head. Melissa was fast asleep beside me. We were both naked and I eased myself out of bed as I headed for the bathroom. I ordered some coffee and checked my travel itinerary as it was one on the table in front of me. My flight was at 1:45 and check out time was 11:00. I picked up my phone and activated the screen. A few emails and several texts appeared. A couple of flight notifications from Aer Lingus telling me the flight was on time, a few work emails and a text from Penny. I opened that one.
“Hi Babe, sorry about the confusion last night. I guess you caught me out in my little white lie but I can explain if you’ll let me call you. I forgot the Daisy Dot, my bad. Please let me call you or you can call me when you get back home. XX Penny.”
I didn’t delete it and I didn’t respond. Little white lie my bollox! I scrolled through my emails and I was in good shape on them all. I was about to close the phone when it rang.
“Peter,” I said quickly.
“What time do you land?”
“Today?”
“No Tuesday fortnight. Of course fucking today.”
“Why?”
“So I can organise a welcome band.”
“Can it be Dire Straits?”
“HEFT want a meeting to discuss stuff, I’ve to give them a time. Hence this enquiry of your availability.”
“I leave here at 1:45, allegedly, and arrive at 2:30, also allegedly.”
“I’ll set it for 4:15, you should make that easily. I’ll collect you at the airport.”
“Yeah, thanks, I should be okay.”
“See you then, don’t forget Ellen’s condoms.”
“Right.”
I plugged the phone in to the charger and pulled on some trousers. Melissa was lying on her back with her breasts exposed, I covered her quickly when the knock came on the door. I took the tray from the girl and brought it to the table. I was pouring a coffee when Melissa stirred.
“Good morning, lover boy,” she said, seductively.
“Good morning, miss orgasm,” I said, “coffee?”
“Please,” she said, “a large one.”
“What is it with you women and the size of things?”
“Oh, I can’t think why?” she said, laughing.
I brought her a coffee and sat by her on the side of the bed. She pulled me to her and kissed me,
“You’ve nothing to worry about on that score,” she said, “plus, you know how to use it.”
I smiled.
“It takes two, love.”
“Any idea what time it is?” she asked
“6:30. What time do you have to surface at?”
“Oh, I’m fine this morning,” she said, “I can take my time, there’s three of us on and it will be quiet. What about you?”
“I’m in good shape too,” I said, “my flight’s after lunch but I’ve to check out of the hotel at 11:00.”
She sipped her coffee and listened to me as she watched me over the rim of the cup.
“Can we fuck a little?” she asked, almost shyly.
I stood up and dropped my trousers.
“Absolutely not.”
I slid in beside her and took her in my arms.
“Melissa, you were fantastic last night,” I said.
“Because of you, love.”
“What would you like?”
“You have me all wet, I’d love to feel you inside me again,” she said, “we can take it from there then.”
I took her cup from her hand and placed it on the bedside table.
“Before we begin,” she said, “can we see each other after today. I mean at home?”
“Absolutely. I’ll be in Galway for a while, maybe you’d like to drop down for a visit or several.”
“I’d love that,” she said and pulled me down for a kiss, “I could be your Galway girl.”
We made love until it was time to leave the bed. We showered a couple of times and squared the room away after packing our bags. We left the hotel together and I walked her to the bridge that led into the EXCEL. She kissed me before disappearing into the bowels of the building. I turned to head back to the hotel entrance, hoping to catch a spare cab to the airport and I met Jimmy Evers.
“Well?” I asked him.
“Well what?”
“Did you shift Sabrina?”
“No, but I did shift Dani from the Kore stand.”
“The small blonde with big tits?”
“The very one.”
“Isn’t she married?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Now that you mention it,” I said, shrugging my shoulders, “not a lot.”
“What are you doing out here?”
“Just dropping Melissa to work.”
“You jammy fucker.”
“Well, I’d better head off, if I can get a fucking taxi.”
“See ya, Tony, safe travels,” he said, and we shook hands.
I turned to walk away and heard someone calling me. It was Sabrina, running towards me.
“Don’t be running, Sabrina,” I said, “you might hurt yourself.”
“Before you go, I want to give you this,” she said, handing me a card, “give me a call sometime, please. I hear you’re off to Galway, my parents live there. I go there once a month to visit.”
“That’s convenient. Thanks, Sabrina. I’d be happy to see you.”
She smiled and looked pleased with herself, she then quickly kissed me on the lips, scrunched up her face at the watching Jimmy, and ran away.
“You jammy fucking bastard,” he said and walked away.
A cab pulled in beside me and I walked into Heathrow airport forty-eight minutes later. Peter met me at Dublin Airport and drove me to the office. I had everything that he needed for the HEFT account completed and he grilled me on the details as he drove through town like a maniac.”
“What time is Ken coming in?” I asked.
“4:15.”
“So why are you driving like Stirling Moss?” I said, “we’ve loads of time.”
“We’re still on the north side, Tony, I don’t want to lose my wheels.”
When we reached the office I spent a few minutes distributing Duty Free requests. I was standing talking to Natalie when I felt a tap on my shoulder from Cadden. He signaled with his head that he wanted me to follow him and we went up to his office. He sat behind his desk and motioned for me to sit.
“How was London?” he asked.
“I enjoyed it, Mr. Cadden.”
“Good,” he said, “thanks for doing that for me. I know you’re under the gun for time this week.”
“I don’t mind taking one for the team.”
“Good man,” he said, “now, down to business. I need you to do that banking online thing with the thing on your phone.”
“The bank account App?”
“Whatever you call it. I’m told that you can do it through your branch.”
“Ok, why?”
“We got a note from our solicitors today, Dennison has made the payment on our ‘agreement’. It’s by cheque and it will clear in a few days.”
“So why do I need the App?”
“So they can pay you your €75k.”
“Can they not pay you and then you pay it on to me?”
“Then it becomes salary, Tony,” he said, tapping his finger on the desk, “which comes with all kinds of revenue implications.”
“I see. Ok, I’ll stop by the bank on my way home this evening.”
“Which bank do you use?”
“Bank of Ireland in Coolock Village.”
“Do it now. Call your branch and tell them what you need, they’ll guide you from there.”
“Why the hurry?”
“You’re finishing up tomorrow and I need you to be focused.”
“Ok, I’ll do it now.”
I spent twenty-five minutes on the phone and got all the numbers and PINs I needed from them. I downloaded the App to my phone and had it working well inside another ten minutes. I had to admit that it was a cool thing. I joined Peter in the board room, where he was setting up for the meeting with the Undertaker.
“What’s the craic?” he said, as I walked in.
“This is for Ellen,” I said, and threw him a gross of rainbow condoms.
“She’ll be delighted with these.”
“I left your smokes and her brandy in your desk.”
“What about the handcuffs?”
“I didn’t think you were serious about those,” I said, “so I got extra smokes instead.”
“You are most wise, grasshopper.”
“So what’s all this then?” I said, peering at his displays.
“These are everything we discussed. We need to make sure he just listens and agrees, We can’t take any shit off him. If he tries to negotiate or obstruct we shut him down immediately. That’ll be your job.”
“What’s the final cost implication? Has the QS come back with anything yet?”
“Yes,” he said, sliding a sheet of paper across the table, “it’s an extra €2.5 million.”
“Not bad.”
“Ok, that’s everything set up. I have my remarks prepared, all I need is for you to reinforce everything I say.”
“Good, let’s get a cup of tea.”
We walked into the canteen. Peter sat down at the table while I made the tea. I brought it over to him with a packet of chocolate digestives and placed it on the table in front of him. My phone dinged a text.
“You left without a word, Tony. Not even a reply to my text. I’m sorry for what happened, please let me know what I can to to make it up to you. XX Penny.”
“Who’s that?” Peter asked.
I handed him the phone. He read both texts.
“It’s remarkably good punctuation, I’ll give her that.”
“Yes, she’s pretty clever.”
I handed him her yellow thong.
“Masterful,” he said and proceeded to undertake a close examination of it, turning it over and over in his hands, perusing it in minute detail.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked.
“Just checking for inconsistencies. This isn’t an inexpensive piece of kit, Tony. This is for the connoisseur.”
“It’s all the same when they’re lying on the floor beside the bed.”
“Does she prioritise the modelling of the entire hand over its functionality in other areas of dexterity?
“What do you mean?”
“You know, where a ballet dancer can’t play football or an opera signer shouldn’t give head.”
“Can an opera singer not give head?”
” I said shouldn’t, I didn’t say not.”
“I never thought of that. But, seriously, Peter, which opera singer would you like to get head from?”
“I don’t know offhand. I’d say Katherine Jenkins would look good with my cock hanging out of her lips.”
“That’d be a crying shame if she couldn’t give head. I think I’d make her give the opera up.”
“Would opera singers be good at deep throating, I wonder.”
“Is there a necessity for a deeper throat to reach those high notes they have to reach?”
“I’m sure there has been some research done on it.”
“Yes, the Deep Throaters digest runs a regular column on it.”
“That magazine is made to resemble a large cock when it’s rolled up properly.”
“I wonder if they use flavoured ink, or paper.”
“Like my new condoms?
We had been sitting with our backs to the door as we chatted and we were overheard by Natalie and Raffles as they came in to the room.
“I have to object to the subject matter of this conversation in the strongest possible terms,” Raffles said, as Natalie went outside to laugh.
“Fuck off, Raffles,” Peter said, and he did.
Natalie came in as he went out. She was still laughing.
“You two are going to give that chap a heart attack.”
“Can I get that in writing, Natalie?” Peter said.
We had a quick chat with her as we finished off the tea and biscuits. I placed the cups in the sink and ran some water over them while Peter went back upstairs. Natalie came over and put her hand on my backside.
“Thanks for the perfume love,” she whispered in my ear, “I’ll model it for you later if you like?”
“Oh? Will you?” I said, “what will you be wearing?”
“Just the perfume,” she said, “and not very much of it either.”
“Excellent, we can go straight from work,” I said, “I’ve to get home earlyish.”
“I’ll be leaving once the Undertaker gets here. You can follow along when you’re ready.”
I had to adjust the front of my trousers to accommodate the movement inside. She smiled as she left.
Ken arrived on time at 4:15 and we brought him to our display in the Boardroom. He declined the offered drink and got straight down to business.
“Thanks for setting this up, lads. I’m a bit under the cosh for time,” he said, “so if we can dive straight in.”
“We’ve already sent you the overview, Ken,” I said, “this is the fully detailed redraw that includes a fully costed project.”
“I can see the work, Tony,” he said, “but why do we need it?”
“The initial concept was nonspecific in certain areas,” Peter said, “in an informal discussion with a planner, it became obvious that certain aspects could be construed as less than acceptable to them.”
“Is that not your oversight, Peter?”
“No. It’s purely caused by the nonspecific nature of sections of your initial proposal. We tried to steer you away from that. You chose to ignore us.”
“Give me one example of these ‘nonspecifics’.”
“We sent this to you in our initial discussions. It centres around the treatment, design and evasive nature of the term ‘efficiencies’.”
“I thought we’d agreed to get it in to them and argue the point later.”
“No, we didn’t. You’re using semantics to describe one item in our proposal, Ken,” I chipped in, “and you fucking know it.”
“Ok let’s all calm down,” Ken said, “what’s the bottom line?”
I slid the folder across the table and he picked it up.
“Transparency is the watchword here, Ken,” Peter said. “Your project is less important to us than our professional reputations.”
He looked at us both and walked over to the display that Peter had set up.
“Ok, it does look a lot better, I’ll give you that. I’ll present it and get back to you.”
“Great. If they’re serious about this, they have to accept it, if not, it’s a dead duck.”
“So what you’re saying is, it’s your way or the highway?”
“No, Ken,” I said, looking straight into his eyes, “what we’re saying is, it’s our way or no way.”
He looked at us both and tried a smile. We didn’t smile back. We shook hands and he left us to tidy the boardroom up.
“Pint?” Peter said.
“Just a quick couple, Natalie wants me.”
“You might need three. Can you not blow her off?
“I’ve never tried.”
“Fuck sake!”
“I’d love a few pints, Peter, but I’m on the Road early on Saturday and I promised my Mam I’d be home at a reasonable time tonight and tomorrow,” I said,
“Ok, let’s hit the Inn.”
I spent the next day clearing my desk and handing off minor projects to other staff members. Peter would look after the Heft, Council and Adams’ accounts and I was to be accessible to him at all times in case something came up that he couldn’t handle. Peter and I stole a couple of hours for a drink, or several, and I left the office at 3:00, as I was on the bus home, having to leave the van back at the office. I ordered the rental to be delivered and the red Mazda 6 arrived pretty much as promised, spotlessly clean and shining in the sunshine. I took my Mam and Sinead into town for dinner. Sinead was more interested in the car, but she was happy enough. My mother, however, was quite muted, half smiling at my extremely funny stories.
“What’s the matter, Mam?” I eventually asked. “You’re very quiet.”
“Nothing, Anthony,” she said, “I just worry about you, that’s all.”
“I’ll be grand.”
“I know you will, but I’ll be happier when I see you settled over there.”
“I’ll be home most weekends,” I said in mollification.
“Most?”
“Yes, most, I can’t be here when you’re coming to Galway.”
“You can come over and give us a lift, Anto,” Sinead said from the back seat.
“But that would deprive you of an expanded horizon, Sinead.”
“Or it’ll deprive you of your women,” she said with a smirk.
“That’s a terrible thing to say, Sinead.”
“I’m joking, chill it.”
“There’s a lot of truth spoken in jest, Anthony,” my mother said.
“Is that near Galway?”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“Jest, where the truth is spoken. Is that near Galway?”
Sinead laughed and my mother just looked out the window, but I knew she was laughing too.
I had everything packed into the car at 2:00 and was ready to hit the road for Galway. My Mam and Sinead waved me off and I promised to stay in touch. Two hours later, I arrived at the outskirts of Galway city and wasn’t overly impressed with what I saw. I used the Satnav to guide me to the apartment from the Oranmore junction and the coastal drive and view from the window of the living room changed my perspective. It was spectacular.
On Monday morning I stood, alone, at the side of the cold registration area of the administration building in the GMIT college campus. I was attending courses at the GMIT, The Galway Mayo Institute of Technology, which had been incorporated into the ATU campus itself.
It was a busy enrolment day and, not being used to participating in an academic environment, I felt somewhat awkward and disconnected. I leaned against the wall as the prospective students milled about searching for the places they’d been assigned. It was a bit of scrum, to be honest, and it was woefully disorganised.
Above the cacophony of the melee, I heard the plaintive voice of a very put-upon lady as she yelled out a plea for order, in a voice lacking any real authority. Needing to free myself from the mass of disorganised and entitled bodies, I made my way to the counter behind which she stood. She looked at me through harassed eyes as I approached her. She held a hand up, her palm facing me. I smiled at her and pulled a plastic seated chair out from behind the counter, stood up on it and faced the crowd.
A shouted, “Oi!” was the best I could come up with.
The nearest people to me stopped talking and looked at me as though I were a lunatic. The noise abated slowly as awareness rippled backwards through the throng.
“If you’ll all shut, the fuck, up, this lady is trying to get your attention,” I said and dismounted the chair.
“Thank you,” she said and then addressed the crowd.
“We’re enrolling students in the Architectural Technologist training module first,” she began, before being interrupted.
“Why is that one first?” a female voice shouted.
“We’re going in alphabetical order,” the lady, Frieda, replied simply.
“The arseholes must be next, I presume,” I said, to a red-haired chap standing beside me.
A girl standing behind him burst out laughing.
We were directed to the enrolment room off to the side and I embraced the relative peace that it offered. We were followed by Frieda, who took a position behind a desk and addressed us. A quick count told me there were fifteen of us present, ten male and five female. Frieda looked at me and beckoned me with a wave of her head. I ambled over to her.
“Thank you for your assistance out there,” she said, “it can be a little belligerent at times.”
“You’re welcome, Frieda,” I said,” I just want to get out of here.”
She laughed.
“You’ve got the better of me,” she said, holding out her hand, “Frieda Walsh, I’m the registrar.”
I took her hand and shook it.
“Tony Harris, I’m not.”
She laughed.
“Here, as a thank you,” she said, riffling through some papers and handing one set to me, “sign the top one for me and take the rest with you. They’re the course details and college directory.”
I dutifully did as she requested and left her to it. I headed for the entrance door, engrossed in the informational material I had been given and paying no heed to a female voice shouting behind me.
“Anto. Anto,” was all I heard, not recognising it as addressing me.
“Anto Harris,” she screamed, causing heads to turn.
I looked around at a tall, thin woman with long dark hair and glasses. She was wearing a rain jacket over an Aran sweater, black tights, a tartan miniskirt and black brogues with a slight heel. I had no idea who she was. She ran towards me and threw her arms around me.
“Anto. It’s great to see you. What, it must be ten years,” she said.
She released me and I searched her face for recognition. She was quite a little fox, all things considered.
“It’s me,” she said, “Margaret Donoghue. From Kilmore.”
I looked closely at her. I remembered Margaret being a skinny little thing but this was hardly the same person. I removed her glasses and saw her iridescent blue eyes. Recognition dawned on me.
“Ah Mags,” I said, “get your arse over here and give me a kiss. You look fantastic.”
Her smile beamed at me and she kissed me quickly.
“You look as handsome as always, Anto. How have you been? Still living with your Mam?”
“Yes, you?”
“Yes, sometimes. When she’s drunk.”
“How is she doing?”
“She’s good, all things being equal.”
Mags’ mother had had a very hard life and her health hadn’t been great since Mags’ dad flew the coop a few years back.
“I wouldn’t have recognised you. In fact I didn’t, until I saw your eyes,” I said, “they’re as bewitching as ever.”
“They never bewitched you though, Anto, did they?”
“You were always on my hit list, Mags,” I said, “I just never had the courage to do anything about it.”
“There was that one time in the lane between the Drive and the Avenue.”
“I often think about that. I wasn’t sure if I’d upset you that night.”
“You did, but maybe not in the way you’re thinking. You were so sweet then.”
“Sweet?”
“Yes, and shy.”
The look on her face told me she was back in time.
“Earth to Mags,” I said.
“I was just remembering,” she said, as she blushed, “they were nice times.”
“There’s a lot of things I would do differently if I had that time over again, Mags,” I said, wistfully.
“Yes, but it’s best to not dwell in the past.”
“True. So what are you doing down here?” I asked.
“All the courses were full in Dublin,” she said, “now I’m stuck in this kip for six months.”
“Me too, what course are you doing?”
“Lab Technician.”
“That sounds nice.”
“I was doing it as an internship in Beaumont Hospital,” she said, “I quite took to it and my mentor set this up for me, thinking I’d be in Tallaght COT. What about you?”
“Similar, except I’m doing an Architectural Technician’s course.”
“Have you any experience at that?” she asked.
“Yes, I work full time in an Architectural practice in Dublin. I’ve been there a few years.”
“Lucky you, I’ve been living off a CE Scheme allowance, at least I get paid for being down here.”
“Did you just get down here today?”
“Yes, I got in at 10:00 on the first train out of Heuston,” she said, “of course, my fucking room isn’t ready yet, so I’ve to try and get a Bed and Breakfast for two weeks before it’s ready. I’m heading to the Students Union to see if they can help me. You?”
“I got here yesterday morning to get my place sorted but it had already been done for me,” I said, “I have three bedrooms, if you want to crash there until your room is ready, Mags.”
“Really?” she almost screamed, “that would absolutely save my life, Anto.”
“It’s not a big deal, Mags,” I said, “after all, if I can’t help out a fellow northsider.”
I looked at my watch. 11:50.
“Come on,” I said, “let’s get out of here, have you eaten today?”
“Yes, I brought some sandwiches on the train with me.”
“Well, I’m starving, so you’re going to eat again.”
“Oh well, if I must,” she laughed, “thanks Anto, I really appreciate this.”
I took her hand and squeezed it as we left the building. She threw her bags onto the back seat of the car, looked at me and then at the car.
“Is this yours?”
“It’s a rental, don’t judge me.”
“How the fuck can you afford this, Anto?” she asked, “are you selling drugs or something?”
“Fuck off, Mags,” I said, “the job gave it to me. My digs are out in Salthill and I may have to drive to a few jobs while I’m down here.”
“Ooh. Touchy,” she said, and she ran off as I chased her around the car.
“Come on, child,” I said, “let’s get something to eat.”
“If this is your transport to school, I can’t wait to see your digs.”
“Well, we can get a takeaway, although I haven’t found much to write home about yet.”
“How’s your Mam and Sinead?” she asked.
“They’re good. They want to come down for a bit,” I said, “I think Mam just wants to see that I’m not living in a cave.”
“Your Mam is so funny.”
“That’s one word for it, Mags,” I said, and put the car into gear.
The Atlantic Technical University campus was on the Old Dublin Road, on the outskirts of Galway city. My apartment was about 6 Kilometers away in Salthill. A 15 minute drive with, mostly, a coastal view on the journey. My apartment was in a holiday development on the Whitestrand Road called, Arasain na Mara. It was quite a well appointed apartment and had the promised amenities and conveniences. It was also blessed with a sea view through the large picture windows of the living room and main bedroom.
I decided to take the scenic route for the entire journey in order to impress Mags. She asked a million questions, most of which I had answers to. I was trying to explain what my job actually was when the phone rang in the car. It was the Undertaker.
“Who is that?” Mags asked, pointing at the caller ID.
“He’s a major client. He’s also bankrolling this little folly,” I said, waving my hand around, “I have to take this, Mags. Don’t utter a sound ok?”
“No worries, Anto,” she said, hunkering down in her seat.
“Ken, how are you?” I said over the hands-free kit.
“I’m good, Tony. Peter got everything in to the Planner in Blanchardstown, I think we’re good to go,” he said.
“I know, we were in the office until midnight fine-tuning it,” I said, “in fact, I think we have a much better proposal now than previously.”
“I agree, thanks for clearing my head on everything, Tony,” he said, “Peter and your good self have done an absolutely first-class job on this. We are very impressed and delighted to have you driving this for us.”
“Let’s hope the Planner will think so too,” I said.
“Do you think he won’t?”
“It’s hard to say,” I said, “the way I look at things like this is that the Planner is there to find anomalies and small errors. If he finds them, he’s happy and won’t go too mad on the final grant.”
“How do you mean, the final grant.”
“They can impose conditions on it.”
“Like what?”
“It can be any one of a thousand things, Ken, but it won’t matter too much because they’re usually a help rather than a hindrance.”
“That’s if they don’t find any errors or omissions?”
“Yes, but they will find some.”
“How do you know, Tony? It might be perfect.”
“It won’t be, Ken, we stuck in five errors on purpose. A blind man could see them.”
He started laughing. I don’t think I’d ever heard him laugh.
“You two are complete scoundrels,” he said.
“Yes, but we’re your scoundrels, Ken.”
“Thank the Lord for that,” he said, “how are things in the West?”
“I just enrolled and am heading back to base now. I have a lot of work to do on the development principles and terms of contract. Once we get that set out, we’ll get them out to the tender list of contractors.”
“Sounds complicated. I got €1K lodged on your Revolut card,” he said, “take some time this week and enjoy a night out with it.”
“I might just do that, Ken,” I said, “thanks very much.”
“You’re welcome, Tony,” he said, “and if you need anything at all just send me a text, or call anytime.”
We hung up and I looked at Mags.
“What an absolute dickhead,” I said.
“He sounded very nice,” she said.
“I don’t trust the fucker, Mags, but I have no option as long as he toes the line on his end of the deal.”
“Can I ask a question, Anto?” Mags asked.
“Yes.”
“It’s totally unrelated to anything.”
“Ok, shoot,” I said.
“There’s talk around the area at home about you and Tara Jones, and you and Clodagh Murray.”
“What kind of talk, Mags?”
“That you slept with them both.”
“Together?”
“No.”
“Yes, I did, Mags. Both of them at different times,” I said, “why?”
“No reason,” she laughed, “it was said to me.”
“By who?”
“Ah I can’t tell you that, Anto.”
“Why not, Mags?” I said, “I was upfront with you.”
“That’s fair enough,” she said, “it was Tara, but don’t tell her I told you.”
“I’ll probably never see her again, Mags. It was a once-off. She was engaged at the time, unbeknownst to me. When I found out, I was a bit pissed off.”
“Why? Did you fall for her?”
“I fall for everyone, Mags. I think Tara’s issue is that I wouldn’t repeat it.”
“Are you serious? She asked you for a second go?”
“She didn’t just ask, Mags,” I said, “it was very awkward.”
“Fuck,” she said, “I’d imagine it was, living so close to each other and all.”
“I know, she approached me again afterwards as I was outside the house, sitting in my van. I was on the phone at the time.”
“Was she angry?”
“Quite the opposite, she was very conciliatory. She wanted me to take her on a date.”
Mags quietened then, reflecting on something.
“Why, did she say I was a bastard or something?” I asked.
“No, I actually thought she was about to start crying,” Mags said, looking at me for a reaction.
“Really? I didn’t get that from her,” I said, “what else did she say?”
“Not much.”
“Come on, Mags, I know you a long time, there is something more.”
“Ok, she told me that you’d spoiled her for any other man.”
“What? How?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Ok, that could mean anything. Or maybe you just picked up the wrong meaning.”
“That’s true, I could have.”
“There you go then,” I said, thinking I’d dodged a potential bullet.
“Then I met Clodagh in the Sheaf, a couple of weeks later,” she said, “and your name came up again.”
“Ah for fuck’s sake, Mags.”
“She said more or less, the same.”
“What? That I’d spoiled her for another man?”
“No, she didn’t say that, exactly,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “she said that you were the best fuck she’d ever had and that she wants to see you again.”
“That was nice of her,” I said.
“Was she the best fuck you ever had, Anto?”
“Ah that wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me to comment on,” I said, “we had a beautiful couple of evenings, where we relived our youth through a prism of nostalgia.”
“They both said that you’re not the same Anto Harris they knew when we were younger.”
“Everyone changes and grows, Mags,” I said.
“Not where we live, Anto,” she said, wistfully.
“I realise that now, Mags,” I said, “did they explain how I’ve changed?”
“I don’t think they really know how. Confidence is how Clodagh described it,” she said, “Tara just wants you.”
“Look, Mags, emotionally, I’m no different now than I was then,” I said, “I still feel things the same way as I always have. Because I no longer hang around the Sheaf three nights a week, everyone thinks I’m different, but I’m not.”
“But there is something, Anto, I heard you on the phone with that undertaker bloke,” she said, “you educated him.”
“That’s my job, Mags.”
“Yes, but you’re really good at it and you’re still very young,” she said, “and this conversation isn’t over yet.”
“Fuck,” I said, with a laugh, “is it going to be an inquisition?”
“No,” she said, “but there’s a whole other side to you that I don’t know. Yet.”
“Ok, I’ll tell you what, Mags,” I said, “I think I know where you’re going with this. So why don’t I cook dinner at home and get it out of the way. I don’t need the distraction hanging over me.”
“You cook too?” she laughed, “fucking hell, I’m way off beam here.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes, it is, Anto love,” she said, and touched my hand.
I showed Mags the apartment as we drove past on the way to the local Tesco supermarket. It took five or six minutes to cover the short journey. She took in the views across the bay as we drove along.
“Lovely spot to hunker down, Anto,” she said, “you chose well.”
“I didn’t choose it, Mags, but I’ve been in worse places.”
“Ooh, Tesco’s,” she giggled as we drove into the car park.
“It’s not Tesco’s, Mags, it’s Tesco,” I said, my inner pedant fully exposed.
“Oh fuck off. Some things never change,” she said, laughing, “do you want me to go in with you?”
“Not if you have something more important to do,” I said with a grin.
“I really have to make a call,” she said.
“I’ll leave you some privacy then,” I said and walked into the store.
Fifteen minutes later I returned to the car, laden down with a bag of stuff. Mags was still on the phone, so I took my time in opening the boot and placing it inside. She noticed I was there and waved for me to get in. There seemed to be some fractious sentiments floating down the line, but I only caught her side of it.
“Alan, for fuck’s sake, you can’t. I won’t be staying there for another two weeks.”
Then, “I told you, it’s not ready for occupation yet.”
Then, “At a B and B in the city.”
Then, “Look, I’ll call you tonight or tomorrow, I’m totally messed up today.”
Then, “I do too, I’ll talk to you then.”
She hung up and put the phone on the floor as I started the car. She turned her head away and stared out of the car window as we drove back to the apartment.
“Trouble in Paradise?” I asked.
“Ah, it’s nothing.”
“Who’s Alan?”
“Alan Dyer, remember him?”
“Tall guy used to clean supermarkets for a living. Half a finger missing?”
“Smart arse!”
“What? He did clean supermarkets. There’s no shame in that.”
“I know.”
“He also got a few grand when he lost his finger. He had an accident at Northside Shopping Centre when they were building it. Maybe he was in there honing his supermarket floor cleaning skills at the time.”
“Stop, Anto, will you?”
“He lost a finger while trespassing in a place where he shouldn’t have been,” I said, irritated, “he had no basis for a claim, the builder was coerced into paying him five grand just to get his father’s ugly mug out of his face.”
“It was before my time, Anto,” she said, “but, if it’s any consolation, you’re not the only one with that viewpoint.”
“I’m sorry, Mags. That shit just irritates the hell out of me. Does he know you’re staying at my place?”
“No, it’s best he doesn’t know.”
“Why?”
“He was there when I was talking to Tara and Clodagh. He wouldn’t get it.”
“Have you been seeing him long?
“About nine months.”
“Do you love him?”
“No, I’m actually pissed off with him.”
“Why?”
“He’s turned into a jealous little bitch, since I found out I was coming over here.”
“Fuck him. Here we are now, Mags,” I said, as I parked in one of three designated spots in the development car park, “home sweet home, and you have your own room, in case you want to reassure Dyer.”
“Fuck him, Anto. You’re really getting me out of the shit, I don’t particularly care what he thinks.”
“I know, but you’d rather not tell him. I totally understand.”
We grabbed our collective bags and went inside. I opened the apartment door and led her inside. Her head spun as she took everything in.
“Very fucking fancy, Anto,” she said, smiling happily, “this is gorgeous and you have it spotless.”
“There’s a housekeeping crew comes in a couple of times a week, I have to keep it clean in case they think I’m a knacker.”
I took one of her bags and led her to a door off the entrance hall.
“This is your room, unless you prefer the smaller one. There’s an ensuite bathroom in your room and a full bathroom across the hall, if you prefer a bath to a shower.”
“Wow! This is amazing, Anto. Thank you so much.”
“You can have the run of the place, Mags, just don’t touch my laptop, it’s a work computer. If you need Wi-Fi, the password is on a label stuck to the fridge door and the TV instructions are on the arm of the sofa.”
She came and hugged me.
“Thanks, Anto, you’re a saint.”
“Ok, you do what you need to do and I’ll stick on some food. I’m making chicken and mushroom pasta, is that ok?”
“Yes, it sounds delicious, can I help?”
“If you like.”
“I’ll be with you in a few minutes, I need to take a quick shower and change.”
“Take your time and relax. You’ve had a long day.”
I was close to finishing the cooking when she came up behind me and hugged me tightly from the rear. I held her hand while stirring the pan with a wooden spoon.
“Everything ok, Mags?”
“Everything is just peachy,” she said, and came to my side and kissed my cheek, “really.”
While I was cooking, I was reminiscing about our relationship when we were in our teens. I smiled as I remembered that I felt the need to always watch out for her. She was such a beautiful skinny little thing, you could probably snap her in two. I always soothed her pain and held her when she was hurt and I never forgot the feeling of her soft body in my arms.
“What are you smiling about there, Anto?”
“I was just thinking back to when we were kids.”
“What were you thinking?”
“Oh, nothing and everything.”
“That’s very evasive.”
“I know, sorry,” I said, as I felt tears spring to life in my eyes.
She noticed it but said nothing, just hugged me again and stayed beside me. I pointed at the darkening sky through the window.
“The sun is setting, Mags,” I said.
“It’s really beautiful, look how the water in the bay shimmers in the sunlight.”
We sat at the table and devoured the food. I opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses.
“That was fantastic, Tony,” she said, holding up her glass “to us, and fuck the begrudgers.”
“Exactly, as long as I don’t spoil them for every other man.”
We sipped our drinks quietly. She was reflecting on things that I couldn’t work out. I broke the mood and cleared the table.
“I’ll do the dishes, Anto,” she said.
I left her to it and opened my computer. There was nothing outstanding, I had everything covered. I closed it, sat on the sofa and switched the TV on and she turned around quickly.
“What’s on?”
“Nothing, I just listen to music on this internet channel. I’m not one for TV, to be honest.”
She sat beside me and took my hand.
“This is nice, Anto.”
“It’s really great to see you again, Mags. it makes me realise how much I’ve missed you.”
She smiled and looked away out through the window.
“Hughie Mulhearn told me once that you loved me.” she said softly.
“Why would he tell you that?”
“Because you were never going to.”
“Hughie was never that intuitive. Did you know that he had a brain transplant?”
“Hughie did? I never knew that.”
“Yes, unfortunately, the brain rejected him.”
She screamed with laughter and started to cough. She held my arm as it worked itself out.
“You’re still a sarcastic fucker, Anto, I always loved that about you. You just don’t give a fuck what you say.”
“It gets chilly here in the evening. I’ll switch on some heat.”
“Don’t. Would you share a blanket with me?” she said, “like we used to in my Mam’s house?”
“You should try wearing some clothes,” I said.
“I’ll have you know that these shorts and this top were quite expensive.”
“Ok, sorry, I’ll get one from the bedroom.”
“I’ll get it, you never get the right size.”
She came back with a blanket over her shoulders and sat down beside me. She covered us both and then snuggled up to me, her head laying against my chest.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
“Yes.”
“You never tried anything with me when we were hanging around.”
“Is that a question?”
“It’s implied. But seriously, how many nights did we sit like this in front of the Telly? Hundreds of times and never once did you try to kiss me or touch me or anything.”
“Did you want me to?”
“I wouldn’t say” she began and stopped, “Fuck it, yes, I did.”
“I’m sorry, Mags. I could never get the nerve up to do anything,” I said softly, “in fact, I spent the whole of those evenings sweating on working up the courage to ask for a kiss.”
“Really?”
“Yes, it was torture.”
“According to Tara and Clodagh, you’ve got over that now.”
I laughed.
“I’m going to tell you something that I’ve never told anyone, Mags,” I said.
“Ooh. Let me make myself more comfortable,” she said and snuggled closer.
“There was one evening that I was walking you home. I think you were going with Mark Ward at the time. You were wearing a loose orange print mini dress, the kind you’d see the dancers wearing on Top of the Pops.”
“I remember that dress. I had real style didn’t I?” she laughed.
“We stopped at the end of the lane before you went home and I thought about kissing you.”
“Your hand brushed off my bum,” she said, “I remember.”
“Yes, and you jumped a bit.”
“I did not!”
“Yes, you did. It’s a vivid memory for me. I’ve never forgotten it. I was decimated. I felt that I repulsed you.”
“Oh Anto, no, the opposite was the case.”
“If I had kissed you, what would you have done?”
“I would have done this,” she said and kissed me sweetly on the lips.
She sat back on her legs, a cute smile dripping in smugness on her face. She was daring me to react. I laid my head on the back of the sofa, my lips millimeters from hers.
“I probably would’ve had a stroke,” I whispered into her mouth.
I brushed her lips with mine.
“You wouldn’t,” she replied, swallowing as she spoke.
I brushed her lips again, she closed her eyes at the soft intimacy. They opened again at the touch of my tongue on her top lip.
“Maybe a small cardiac event then?” I whispered, as I took her top lip between mine and sucked gently on it.
“Unlikely,” she said with a heavy groan as I brushed my tongue along her lower lip.
“Oh, God,” she breathed, and offered me the soft skin of her throat and I ran my tongue under her chin, kissing her with barely a touch.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” I whispered and took her lower lip between mine.
“Yes,” she breathed with closed eyes.
Her nipples were extending through the fabric of her tee shirt and she moved herself onto my lap.
“I’ve dreamed of this,” I said, as I stroked her lips with my finger, slowly pulling her head down to mine.
As our lips met she sighed. As our tongues met her breathing deepened. Our lips moved slowly and deliberately together, finally finding a peace in our hearts. A peace that was long overdue. A peace that we didn’t want to end. Her hands were in my hair as she held me. I touched one of her nipples and she lifted off, staring into my eyes. She pulled the bottom of her tee shirt over her head, exposing her small perfect breasts to me. I touched a nipple with my tongue, replacing it with my hand as I sought her beautiful lips,
I caressed her breast as our kiss grew deeper, it was impossibly soft, beautifully formed. She broke the kiss and moved to offer her nipple to my lips, watching through hooded eyes as I licked it quickly before taking it in my mouth.
“That’s so good,” she said, her hips moving against the erection that was manifesting itself as I moved her lower, until she lay flat on her beck beneath me. I kissed her on the soft underswell of her breast, caressing and squeezing the other as I moved my head lower.
I could sense her arousal as her musky aroma teased and tempted my senses. I pulled her shorts down and kissed between her thighs. I then kissed her thigh, just below her groin, a lingering kiss as I sucked her flesh into my mouth.
She lifted her hips off the sofa as I slid a black thong down her legs and off her feet, exposing a soft growth of black pubic hair, trimmed in the shape of a triangle. I moved her knees apart and settled myself between them, my mouth hovering over her vulva, my warm breath making her move her hips in search of my touch.
“Is this ok, Mags?” I whispered.
“Don’t stop, Anto,” she pleaded, “I’m gonna come.”
I could see by the wetness of the lips of her exposed labia and the puffiness of her vagina that she was aroused enough to come, so I opened her with my thumbs and slowly placed my softened tongue directly on to the pink flesh, the tip just touching the top of her vaginal entrance. I gently massaged her entire vulva and she groaned in pleasure.
I reached for her breasts with my hands and she sighed as she held them there with her hands. I moved my tongue downward once, flicking the tip inside the entrance of her vagina and she suddenly erupted with an animal howl as her orgasm surged through her.
I held her as she shook through it, her stomach muscles tensed and her legs gripped my head tightly. Her body was a symphony of movement, her flow of fluid was lengthy and sweet. I touched my tongue to her clitoris and she screamed as a powerful jet of fluid squirted onto my face. She pulled me up from between her legs.
“No more, Anto, I can’t take it,” she begged me breathlessly.
We held each other as the darkness outside drew in. She was dozing fitfully as I lifted her from the sofa and carried her to her room. I put her in bed and kissed her forehead, covering her and going to my own room. I undressed and slid under the covers, lying back with a cigarette and enjoying the memories of Mags’ taste and smell.
Shortly after, my bedroom door eased open and she stuck her head inside. She wore a white lace one piece body suit that immediately sent waves of lust surging through me. She was a vision of beauty and she looked so sensuous as she turned to ease the door shut, exposing her entire naked back and her pert little bum that was gifted to her by the Gods.
“Anto,” she whispered loudly, “are you asleep?”
“Yes,” I said.
She came in and shut the door.
“You little fucker,” she said, laughing, “we’re not done yet.”
“I think you might be after you flooded the living room.”
“I’m so sorry about that, Anto,” she said as she slid in beside me, “that’s never happened before.”
“Do we need to put sandbags around the bed?”
“Oh, shut the fuck up, will you?” she said, “take it as a compliment.”
“I am. I’ve send twenty texts out about it.”
“You have not.”
I reached for her and pulled her to me as she reached around my neck. She was precious, and it was a special feeling to have her so close to me. I touched her breast through the lace and electric shocks sparked at my fingers. I slid my hands inside the garment and slowly peeled it off. We kissed as our skin blended together and her form fitted right into mine. She sought out my lips as my hand slipped down to her vagina, my finger testing her arousal. She was soaking wet.
“Are we going to do this, Mags?” I asked her.
“Yes, Anto, I’ve been waiting for this for ten years,” she said, “do you not want to?”
“I want you more than I want to breathe, baby. I always have.”
She slipped my penis inside her and we made love for the rest of the evening until we fell asleep together a few hours later.
When I woke next morning she was beside me in bed, her hair a dark volcano as it covered her pillow. I smiled as I touched her face. She was still the girl I loved when we were kids. I felt her stir and slowly lift her head. She felt me looking at her and turned to look.
“Hey baby,” she said with a sigh, “can I snuggle against you for a few minutes?”
“Yes, but no hanky panky.”
“I couldn’t, Anto,” she said, “I’m very tender still.”
“Sorry about that, love.”
“Don’t be. I’m as much to blame. I didn’t want to stop”
“Have I ruined you for other men?”
She laughed.
“I’m never gonna hear the end of that, am I?
“No.”
“Although I understand what Tara and Clodagh were talking about now.”
“In what way?”
“You are the same, but there’s an extra layer to you now.”
“Is it worse or better.”
“It’s part of you, babe, so it’s much better.”
“Coffee?” I asked her.
“I can give you a nice wake-up first,” she said, reaching for my burgeoning penis, “if you wish.”
“I wish, Mags.”
“Lie back and enjoy, babe,” she said, taking it in her hand, “fuck, that looks a lot bigger in the daylight.”
“You women are so obsessed with the size of everything.”
