The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1288 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Lunch was very quiet–I still missed Stella and I had to admit to myself that Gareth staying here would be quite a challenge to me. It would be another mouth to feed, because I hardly expect Stella to do that when she’s well, let alone recovering from delivering a baby and goodness knows what potential complications.

Simon did tell me that neither he nor Gareth had discussed me in any context, leave alone a ménage a trois for which I had no enthusiasm at all. I do love Simon, but would I be able to resist temptation? I don’t know.

While Jenny muttered long about some bloke she knew I mused about my feelings for Gareth. He’s a nice man who is immensely good looking without being affected by it. He’s clever, sensitive and very good company. He’s–oh bugger, if I carry on with this I’m going to have left my husband by tea time.

He’s forbidden fruit–I’m married to Simon, whom I love dearly. I don’t love Gareth, I just want to shag him or better have him do me. Is that a crime–having desires? Not a crime exactly but it would have enormous knock on effects if I were to do anything and Simon were to find out. Simon would be devastated as would I be if things were reversed.

I mustn’t do it–I have so much more to lose than I gain. The profit would be minutes or hours of pleasure and years of guilt or worse. It isn’t worth it, it really isn’t. I feel like some adolescent who’s suddenly faced with going out with a reliable next door neighbour or the captain of the football team, who is absolutely beautiful with a body to die for, but also holds no future for me. As a school-kid, I could have taken some risks, as a married parent, I can’t.

Is this part of my problem–the lack of an adolescence to work through some of these things? I would have probably dated a few different boys and learnt about dealing with them and also in doing so, learned lots about myself. It’s a nightmare. I must have really pissed off the gods of Karma the last time I incarnated to have had such an interesting life.

“You haven’t heard one word I said, have you?” Jenny shook my arm.

“Sorry?”

“Cathy, I was telling you this long involved story and you weren’t listening, were you?”

“Only to some of it.”

“You’re thinking about Gareth, aren’t you?”

“No, I was thinking about dinner.”

“That is total rubbish, Cathy Cameron, and you know it.”

I blushed, “What d’you mean?”

“Your face gave you away, you were thinking about very painful stuff but there was also a very pleasurable side to it as well–it had to be Gareth.”

“Gosh, remind me never to play cards with you.”

“I’m very good at reading expressions.”

“So I see, even if they are wrong.”

“Wrong?” she said loudly, “Never, even the dog could have seen through your thoughts they were so transparent.”

“Really?”

“Really–I was right wasn’t I?”

“Partly–I was also thinking about if only I’d had a girlhood or even adolescence I might understand myself better.”

“I had one and I don’t know much about myself, except I’ve made a few mistakes over the years.”

“Did you learn from them?”

“Once or twice.”

“Oh, I thought that was the whole purpose of growing up, to practice adult skills in a safer environment than adults have. You know, breaking your heart or someone else’s.”

“You read too many women’s mags, Cathy, life isn’t like that, it’s a continuous learning curve which peaks and troughs all the time, sometimes on the same day or even the same moment. A boy can build you up, get what he wants and smash you down the next. He can two time whoever he wants and he’s seen as adventurous, his father pats him on the back and loans him the car, his mother is worried in case he gets someone into trouble, but secretly she’s pleased for him, he might learn to be a better lover than his boring father.

“The girl’s parents feel very differently about it all. They might well like the boy but wish he’d leave their daughter alone or marry her. If he gets her up the duff, they’ll try to force him to marry her–for the sake of the baby, of course.

“The boy will feel confused but exhilarated and be ready to have sex at a moment’s notice–they really do think about it twenty five hours a day. How often did you think about it when you were a teenager?”

I blushed profusely, “This is going to sound far-fetched, but I sincerely thought I was asexual until I was down here and working through my masters. I was out with Simon...”

“Oh so Simon turned you into a sex-maniac?” she joked.

“I’m trying to be serious.”

“Sorr-eeee,” she looked out at me from enormously long eyelashes–they couldn’t be her own surely?

“I was sitting in Simon’s car–the clutch had gone and we had a breakdown truck arrive and some lad named Kevin, leant in the car and snatched a kiss. Without any other contact, I had an orgasm.” The memory nearly caused another one.

“So your first with a boy? I’ve heard stories of girls having one when they have their boobs touched by a boy–or girl, depending on which way they swing.”

“It was my first, full stop.”

“What, you never pulled little willie?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Cathy, but I don’t know if I believe you.”

“That’s your business, but I’m telling the truth. I knew what I thought I was–a girl–but the sort of girl I was, was a different matter. I’d never thought of girls or boys as sexual partners. Boys were a group of hairy arsed primates who made gorillas look sophisticated, and who spent most of their time bullying or trying to humiliate me. I couldn’t have fancied them unless I was stupid.”

“Fair comment, given your experience.”

“Girls were someone with whom I identified. I wanted to be pretty and sexy–though quite what that meant exactly, I had no idea. I don’t think I wanted sex with a girl, I wanted to be her, so everyone would know what I really was–a girl.”

“And all this changed with Simon?”

“Yes and no. I mean, Stella–the bitch–amused herself by making me look better than I ever had and throwing me at her brother. Simon had a poor record with girls and by sending him this girly boy, she was really getting at him twice.”

“I can sense a but coming, can’t I?”

“Yes, because we clicked and suddenly I became her protégé. I wanted to tell him because I liked him as nice man. He was generous and easy going, very funny and good company. He had a secret too.”

“What? He’s not gay or something is he?”

“No, I didn’t know at first who he was, I mean a member of banking royalty and super rich.”

“When did he find out about your plumbing?”

“A long time ago. It threw him for a few days but much to my delight he came back, we talked it through and he said he’d wait until I got myself sorted. He kept his word and here we are.”

“What about Kevin?”

“Oh he flitted through my life with just that one meeting and one kiss and one orgasm.”

“Not a bad average–didn’t you try to find him, to see if it could happen again?”

“You’re joking, he was a bit of rough who technically assaulted me and was gone.”

“Ah, the good ol’ rape fantasy.”

“No–nothing like that, I was sitting there minding my own business, he kissed me and I messed my panties. That was it.”

“You must write your story one day, no one will believe it.”

“Oh yeah, and post it on the internet I suppose?”

“You could do.”

“No thanks–I’d rather stay unknown and private–besides, who except my psychiatrist would be interest in the minutiae? Oops, gotta get the girls.”